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#taylor swift inspired WHAT'S NEW
ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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Hi Ghost! Mega congrats on 3k!! 🥳can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? Maybe with some sneaking around fun? Thankyou!!
thank you so much!! ngl, i'm very proud of this one. i definitely got carried away, but i swear the smut is there, somewhere amongst the 3k+ words!!! this is really just one long love letter to eddie munson. hope i did your idea justice! also got heavily inspired by taylor swift's song "cruel summer", but what's new?
come party with me!
summertime and stardust (eddie munson x fem!reader)
warnings: smut, p in v, raw dog heathen prevails (aka unprotected sex). also a lot of references to mythology. my bad. i think i got too much prose all over my smut. oops.
Hawkins was always boring in the summer, and maybe that’s how the two of you ended up in this predicament. It was a sweltering wasteland of quarries that had started drying up long before July even arrived, and twenty four hour diners that were occupied with waitresses that made it very clear that they were sick of seeing yours and Eddie’s faces before even a week of freedom. Half of the usual hangout spots the two of you had considered hidden gems were quickly overrun by the middle-schoolers and freshmen that now had nothing but time on their hands (Eddie had taken the loss of the Arcade badly). So it was no surprise that you two ended up here, at the shore of Lover’s Lake, side by side on a blanket that Eddie had kept in the back of his van. 
“Which one is that one?” you ask, lifting a finger to trace out a constellation winking down at the two of you. 
“Orion,” Eddie immediately answers, hardly having to squint to make out the stars as you were, “Want to hear the story behind that one?”
“Is that even a question?” 
This is how the two of you had spent the last hour. On your backs, gazing at the stars, exchanging stories and theories that did not belong to either of you. Tales of Greek Gods and Goddesses, smartass remarks and make-believe when one of you couldn’t identify the constellation. There’s nothing else but you, Eddie, and the cicadas this far out of town. A buzz of relief and tranquility to bask in. Every so often, you could make out the lake water lapping at the shore not far from where both your feet rest, Eddie’s stretching past the blanket. 
It was nice. Every night you had spent out here had been very nice.
You turn on your side to listen to Eddie ramble about Orion, somehow both eloquent but still unfairly funny in his side comments of his opinion on the tale. He makes it very clear that he finds Orion to be deserving of losing his sight - “Seriously, fuck that dude!” - and you can only watch on, entranced by the boy and his starry eyes. 
“I think the version where Artemis murked his ass is pretty good, but I also like the idea behind Gaia sending a Scorpion to kill him, because then they’re opposing constellations and sh- Are you even listening to me?” Eddie pauses when you bring a hand up to his chest, fingertips dancing over the damp cotton of his t-shirt. 
You can’t hide the small smile tilting your lips as you nod, biting back giggles, “Oh, absolutely.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, arms crooked up to rest behind his head, biceps straining against the worn sleeves of his t-shirt. You resist the urge to just bury yourself into him, curl against his side and press, press, press until the two of you conjoin, never to separate again. 
“You’re such a fucking liar,” he lowly chuckles, eyes looking back up to the sky as your fingers begin to trace patterns higher, now skimming his barely-exposed collarbones. 
This is how it usually goes. He’s watching the sky, you’re watching him. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the change. 
Everyone in town knew that the two of you are friends; it’s not a secret. You’d met in school, partnered for a chemistry lab, and the rest was history. Everyone knew that you were the first person Eddie showed every new Corroded Coffin song to, and everyone knew Eddie was the last person you spoke to at the end of every day. And surely, they had to know to some extent, that you both reserved your summer nights for each other. 
The change is what they didn’t know. 
Steve and Robin would tease you two when you’d come into Family Video, a new thriller or horror movie always in hand at the checkout. Dustin would make gagging noises when Eddie would dramatically bid you farewell before Hellfire Club would commence, making endless jokes about his wife returning from war, how lonesome he would be now as you walked through the door and out of his sights for the next several hours. Even Mike, even Max, even Joyce, had made off-handed comments about your attachment to each other. 
But they were all always joking. They never saw any purchase in their words, their relentless teasing never serious because they couldn’t fathom a world where those jokes were actually correct. 
They could never fathom the nights you and Eddie would end up cuddling each other while studying, pressed together too tightly to leave space for friendly speculation. They could never fathom the way Eddie would drag you into the darkest corners of the arcade, his hands tight on your hips and your breath brushing his cheek as he nuzzled his way against your neck, teeth and lips alike nipping at you in desperation until you caved and gave him a chaste kiss. They could never fathom the way Eddie had been holding you to him by the end of these nights spent by the lake, pressing his body into yours and reveling in every whimper that was only his to hear. 
No, they couldn’t fathom that half of the story. They knew you two were close, but they didn’t know just how intertwined your lifelines had become with the boy lying beside you. And that was fine, you didn’t care for them to know about those sacred moments laden with secrecy. All you really cared about was that the boy before you was all your summer nights and all your starry skies, brimming with clandestine glances and whispers of worship in moments alone. That was enough for you. Here, in your bubble of privacy by the lake sans persistent cicadas and gentle waves, he was yours. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to yours that continues to explore his body innocently, intertwining your fingers with his before resting them over his heart. 
It was drumming in his chest – you could feel each beat perfectly, breaking through the Iron Maiden logo and against your skin. After a few moments, your own racing heart synced with his, a quiet rhythm coursing through your veins. You hope he could feel it, too. 
“Just thinking about how it’s just us out here,” you whisper back, voice low and careful not to break this moment. All of the paths, all of the dead-end streets you had both endured, just for moments like this, “How it’s always just us.” 
You mean more than the fact that you never invite anyone else out on your endeavors, but Eddie takes it that way anyway, snorting. 
“You wanna start inviting the guys out here?” he jokes through more laughter, making you attempt to break your hand free from his in order to smack at his chest. He doesn’t let you, though, only tightening his fingers’ grip on yours, “Think that Gareth would like the show? Or maybe Jeff?”
“Stop,” you whine, starting to fight him with your whole body now, still trying to get your hand free. You nearly roll on top of him, your giggles now joining his, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 
He doesn’t reply as the two of you continue to wrestle. At some point, he takes his free hand and begins to tickle you, making your giggles turn into awful screeches, echoing in the warm, stale air around the two of you. You twist and twist and twist, trying to get away from his merciless grip. You’re no longer holding hands, him now utilizing both to attack your sides before moving toward your armpits.
“Don’t!” you gasp out, realizing what he was about to do. He’s on his side now, you flat on your back as he begins to hover over you, “Edward Munson, don’t you dare!” 
But he does dare. And even as you’re slapping at his shoulders, even when he overexaggerated how much your knee knocking against his thigh hurt, even when the weight of him presses you down into the blanket and threatens to bury you into the soft dirty of the small-town beach, you know it in your heart – there is no where else you’d rather be in this moment. 
The compromising position that results from the ridiculous tickling and wrestling is welcome, Eddie’s body heavy between your legs as his torso drapes over yours. Your face-to-face with him, now looking in those dazzling brown eyes for constellations rather than the sky above. 
His grin from the entire interaction has begun to ache, but it doesn’t falter as he bumps his nose to yours gently, “I’m sorry. I get it, I know what you mean. It’s always been just us,” he pauses before scrunching up his face, rearing up to continue to tease you before he playfully mocks, “You and me against the world, baby.”
You smack at his chest with fruition this time, making a soft oomph fall from his lips that pass over yours, “I was just trying to be sentimental, you dick.” 
The grin finally falls away, but the corners of his eyes stay crinkled, “I know.” 
When his lips finally meet yours, it’s like a breath of fresh spring air. You’re no longer in Hawkins’ muggy summer weather, instantly transported somewhere far away where the sun is just warm enough for comfort, where the breeze is just soft enough to wrap around your shoulders like a favorite blanket, where every strawberry is the sweetest and nothing will ever hurt. 
The world can be cruel, both in heat waves and hurting souls, but he never is. He’s a sanctuary – he’s your sanctuary. 
His sickly sweet kisses continue, taking your breath away in a willing way, leaving both your lips shades of summer blooms and spring flowers. His tongue is a welcome prodding, almost as if tending to your garden as he tries to get the two of you even closer. It’s not possible, but it doesn’t stop either of you; chests crush together as foreheads clash, and you yearn for a world where you could just curl up beneath each other’s skin, clamber your way into his chest and nestle right beside his pounding heart.
Only Artemis knows that he’s already made residency in yours, decorating your ribs and lungs with his flowers of adoration. 
Between desperate breaths and needy hands, hips beginning to roll and curse the clothing you two have yet to get rid of, you silently wonder where the two of you will end up in this lifetime. You hope it’s amongst the stars. You hope your constellation can find his across the night sky. 
 “Baby,” he begs. You don’t know what he’s begging for – for closeness, for your legs to fall further open and welcome him home, for you to swallow him whole with all the love pounding just beneath the surface of you – so you can only kiss him back with more urgency. 
The urgency follows through both of your movements. Urgency is what removes his shirt, your hands shaking as his chest is exposed to you in the moonlight. Urgency is what unbuttons your shorts, prickles of thorns when his fingertips make contact with your nude hip. Urgency is the slip of his hand into your panties, fingers curling and swirling in every right pattern to have you preening against him. 
“Off,” you plead with him once he has you down to just your underwear and him just his boxers. Your palms rack down desperately over the waistband before trailing down to his bulge, fevered movements earning more purpose as you press down on him and elicit a moan. 
He recovers his composure, only to shake his head down at you, curls ticking your cheeks, “Ever heard of a thing called patience, sweetheart?” 
“Fuck patience,” you immediately argue, pulling yourself back from his lips fully, eyes meeting and lips slick with each other’s spit, “We have the entire summer to be patient, Eddie. Just… Just fuck me. Please.” 
You awakened something in him with those words, you saw away whatever restraint he was holding onto so tightly. These nights always ended the same way, but they never felt the same. 
Familiarity waits in the shadows as each graze of his skin against yours ignites something new in you. New flowers, new petals, new budding growths that scream that this can’t last for just the summer. Whatever this is, as he removes your panties and his boxers, is not just a coming and going on the seasons. It’s not just a constellation only to be seen in the quiet of the night by two lovesick fools sneaking off to observe it. The heat of the summer that frizzes both your hair and his repeats it, the cooler breeze that rolls off the lake behind you guys encourages it. It may have taken the summer to tend to it, but this is only the beginning of it. Not the end – never the end.
And he fucks you like he knows it, too. He can hear the whispers of it all, telling him to pull you closer, telling him to take his time as he pushes into you and feels your walls stretch around him. It isn’t quite patience, it isn’t quite cruelty. It’s just you, and it’s just him. 
“Fuck,” he moans out once he’s fully sheathed inside you, cock pulsing as your wetness tightens on him. Really, it’s a shame that no deity will ever experience the devotion you feel pouring off of him as his mouth falls open for you, as his head rolls back and his eyes flutter close. He’s devoted to you – he’s yours just as you’re his, “Always so wet for me, baby. Always so good.” 
He finds a familiar rhythm to have you both gasping and groaning, and it still feels brand new. The way you feel him deep in your stomach, the way your thighs quiver and his abdomen tightens. It is all always new and it is all always euphoric. 
If you lift your eyes to find the stars above you almost winking at you, you can feel that he’s not fucking you as you’d requested; he’s making love to you. He is confessing his past sins and he is professing that he’d spend the rest of his days here, inside you, against you, with you. 
The roll of his hips don’t stay slow for long, though. You both know the love is there, and you both know what the two of you need. Eventually, soft confessions and loud professions become slapping of skin on skin, teeth knocking as you try to keep your lips on his. You swallow every moan and he grabs every mewl. You can feel his hands on your waist, your hips, your thighs. He is everywhere all at once, and it still isn’t enough. 
It’s not enough until his movements stutter, until his voice has grown hoarse from calling out your name for only the two of you to hear. Your nails rake down his back at some point, and you know that come tomorrow night, beside the lake, you’ll be tracing fading red lines that spell out a clear message: he belongs to me because he chose me. 
Your walls flutter around him and he knows without you saying a single word other than ramblings of his name that you’re close.
“Cum for me,” he’s begging again, lifting above you and looking down with wide, wet eyes, “Fuck- I- Please cum for me, baby. Need you to cum. Please.” 
You whine out in response, head tilting back into the grass around the edges of the blanket, consumed by him. Your ears ring as your vision blacks, the last image you see being his face contorted in pleasure, and you can’t decipher whether it’s the lake again that you hear or simply your own waves meeting his shore. 
The echoes of his voice surround you. 
“Just like that, sweetheart.”
“Doing so good for me.”
“Always such a good girl.” 
When his own high has its hold on him, his head is falling to your shoulder, his nose buried into your sweet spot behind your ear as you listen to every grunt and moan. He holds you painfully close, like he’s scared that maybe this is the end. You ponder bruises in the shapes of roses forming on your hips as he buries deep in you and he paints your walls with warmth, with devotion, with something unspoken only between the two of you. 
He collapses on top of you in the afterglow. Savors the moment, lets his lips pucker against your salty skin slick with sweat no longer just from summer. His own hair is matted at the knape of his neck, his cheeks, his forehead. 
You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your chest. It’s overflowing, mingling with the still crying cicadas. He lifts his head and glances up at you, smiling shyly. 
“What?” 
You continue to laugh, unable to answer him, as he pulls out and cleans you up with his t-shirt. If you weren’t so delirious with unbridled delight, you’d scorn him. 
He doesn’t bother with redressing as he rolls to his original side of the blanket, laying on his back and wrapping his arms around you to pull you into him, “What’s so damn funny, my beautiful girl?” 
You think Artemis, maybe even Orion, would smile down at the sight of the two of you. Perhaps Gaia is sending her well wishes to the love-stricken look you two exchange in the form of a breeze that doesn’t bring more heat, only relief, only sanctuary. 
“We are not inviting Gareth or Jeff out here, ever,” you finally explain breathlessly, “This place is for just us, Munson.” 
He joins you in your lingering giggles, his chest shaking with them more than he vocalizes them as your cheek finds his heart and presses into his cheek. 
Whatever this is, label or not, is good. And it is only the beginning, never the end. Whether the others will ever know or not, the two of you always will, and that’s all that matters for the time being. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, holding you just a little bit tighter, “Always just us, you heathen.” 
He brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face up. When he kisses you, it tastes like summertime and stardust, just as it should.
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cametotheshowinsd · 1 year
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THE ROARING TWENTIES (1929) | Written + Directed by Taylor Swift *ALL-TALKING PICTURE* Flapper Clara falls in love. With a Princeton sophomore. Every night they spend together feels like a dream. All the social occasions, the scent of wine she tasted on his lips, dance floor reflecting broken mirrorball lights, tossing pennies in the pool, sneaking in campus, night walks around the Nassau Hall, joking about school dorms, long dinner that seems never end and sophisticated conversations. His innocence and passion. Her wide-eyed gazes. Breathes that felt too close in the dark. Finally, one day, the kid went down on his knees and pulled that damned rock out of his pocket. Will Clara say "yes"?
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lapetitechatonne · 1 year
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Masterlist of Fandom Playlists
as a neurodivergent person, i literally can’t write if the vibes of what i’m listening to isn’t on point, so i thought i’d share a few of my fandom playlists down below! some of them are specific to fics, others are certain relationships, some are purely vibes. i’ve included links to all of them, just click on the title. welcome to the chaos that is my mind
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there was an idea
this one is just vibes tm. songs that i listen to when i’m picturing fights or action. i named it after the avengers because i liked the way it sounded, and i generally like the mcu’s music choices.
it's angst hours baby
these songs just put me in the mood to ruin someone's life.
ethereally eldritch
this one’s still under pretty heavy construction, but when it’s finished i want it to be a Danny Phantom inspired playlist that’s a bit spooky. i’m going for grungy, spooky, punk vibes.
i've learned to love falling
this one is a Dick Grayson character playlist. i just wanted to add some songs that remind me of him/his vibes. think abba, Britney Spears, and a little bit of punk pop.
i'm the most cutest girl in the world
a Paulina Sanchez playlist!!! i love her so much and i realized i didn't have many 'bad bitch' playlists, so it felt fitting. this is a lot of female artists, mostly pop and rap. however, i have thought about adding some 'bubblegrunge.' thoughts?
i’ve been bamboozled (into loving you)
an Anger Management (Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd) playlist <3 basically a lot of the songs that remind me of their relationship or that i think fit their vibes.
👑Space Princess💫
a Space Princess (Dani Phantom/Mar’i Grayson) playlist, because i am so soft for them. it’s a soft sapphic playlist that’s just as lovely as my favorite girls
🏹Trick Shot💘
i will admit, this one started off as Dani Phantom/Lian Harper, but at some point became more of a sapphic modern disco playlist. it still have light, fun vibes that i associate with them though.
👑 Crowns & Clowns 💗
now we’re getting into the fic specific playlists. this playlist is a BIG spoiler for my fic “The Princess and the Outlaws” so listen at your own risk. basically all the chapter titles for that fic are different Taylor Swift songs and they’re on that playlist. past those songs, we get into more vibes territory. this playlist in particular has a few different sections since it deals with the polycule Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd/Roy Harper/Koriand’r. the first section being chapter titles obviously, the next being songs about their relationship, then songs they would sing to/about their partners, then a girl power section because Kori and Jazz kick ass, and lastly non-romantic songs that give off their group vibes.
Blush Bobbin
this playlist is specifically for my fic "hitting pitch black streets with pink clad heart beats." it's mostly Panic at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, and Matt Maeson right now, but i want to add some more to it eventually. fun fact, i named the playlist that because a group of robins can be called a Blush or a Bobbin, among other things.
Bellflower Manor
this playlist goes along with a fic i'm cowriting called "Brides, Birds, and Batshit Family Matters." if you know, you know.
forgotten kids
this is a grungier Dani/Lian playlist for a fic i'm planning "Urban Legends are Warnings from the Dead." it's meant to be a bit spooky, a bit grungy, a bit hopeful---because what is Gotham if not full of hope?
Gotham Academy
this playlist is also specific to my fic “Wisteria” which is a dp/dc dark academia au. it’s a mixture between dark academia, dark forest, investigation, spooky, magical, grungy, gay vibes. it’s doing a lot right now, and i might go back and edit it sometime some.
❤️‍🔥let me show you power💋♟
this. playlist. okay, so it’s specific to the dp/dc leverage au i’m working on but bare with me. it’s punk, punk pop, angry feminine, anti-hero vibes. it’s about manipulation and being alluring, and falling in love somewhere along the way. i rather like this one as you can tell lol.
alt universe 
so, this playlist was actually made for a fic i started a long time ago “See the Light.” i’m not currently working on it, but i really like the concept so i’ll probably revisit it one day. it’s alternative, dark vibes, very much so focusing on the dark parts of the fic. it’s probably one of my favorite playlists i’ve every made, the songs just hit in or out of context.
🕊prettybird🌷
this playlist was made specifically for my very indulgent Batfam/Charmed (1998) au. it’s based on the main pairing of the fic, Dick Grayson/Melinda Halliwell. it’s a lot of love songs, pinning and accidently falling in love vibes, as well as a generous amount of ABBA. 
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eevstuff · 2 months
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welcome 🪽
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monstrousfemale · 6 months
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using this as a diary real quick...
i recently had like a Big Life Change like super huge and I'm the loneliest I've ever been and also the happiest I've ever been and it's a really strange time to be alive but you know what I'm so fucking grateful I got back into fandom last year because every now and then when things seem to be getting out of control hey I can always write something really sappy and completely poorly written and entirely for my own benefit and feel healed.
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Taylor’s ability to pivot from one thing to another and be like a little chameleon is one of her best traits.
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sergeantpixie · 4 months
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But I need to know everything about all the wips 😭😭
Tell me everything about St Augustine pls
Maddie pls you know I would tell you literally anything you want to know!!!
St. Augustine omg ofc you'd pick that one. There are so many things you know already, it's The Elena outtake for Addendum: Outtakes. It's got like 5 alternative titles including:
how does a girl like elena become a girl like elena?
the training montage
when elena stopped straightening her hair
sweet melting little girl dreams
the grass is dead & barren
While each chapter of the outtakes is named after where they are set St. Augustine isn't just set in St. Augustine, Florida, it's also set in Mystic Falls and at a cheer camp in Trinity, Texas. However, St. Augustine was picked for the title because it's A) the final location, and B) St. Augustine of Hippo is the saint famous for helping to formulate the doctrine of Original Sin.
Largely the point of this outtake is talking about what it's been like for Elena to be objectified by men to the degree she's been objectified her entire life and how that comes to fuel her desire to be a hunter. Addendum spends a lot of time talking about how Elena is irresistible to people, especially men, and I think if you're gonna talk about that a lot, at some point you have to go back to when that all started. At some point, Elena constantly being objectified was genuinely traumatizing to her, so how did she get to the point where she's willing to use it to her advantage? That's what St. Augustine is about.
Also any opportunity to talk about the ugliest realities of girlhood.
When it comes to being looked at, Elena could choose to be an object, or she could choose to have some semblance of control in an unavoidable situation. She could ignore them or encourage them; she had no power to stop them. Elena does what she can live with.
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orihimeii · 8 months
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call it what you want - gojo satoru
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being married for 2 years with the strongest still feels surreal every time the both of you celebrate your anniversary.
a/n: this was inspired by taylor swift's song "call it what you want." i always imagine gojo whenever i listen to that song. god i love him. reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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"gojo is so in love with you" shoko nudges you, your attention diverting to the man who was walking towards you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
"yeah" you say, heart fluttering while staring at him and you can see him smiling at you from his direction, "i love him too."
"why did you choose that dumbass?" shoko asks.
you chuckle at her question.
"there's a lot of reasons, but" you pause, "-one thing im sure is that, every little thought in my head that troubles me fade to nothing when i look at him."
shoko looks at you amused, smiling too. "i'd kill for that kind of love."
a tall figure towered over you and you smile.
"what are you doing here mister?" you crossed your arms as you playfully roll you eyes at gojo who was standing now in front of you.
his eyebrow shot up, "who are you calling mister?" he questions as his hand took yours to kiss it, giving you the flowers after. he dressed up today, wearing an all black outfit, he was always too good looking.
"wow im not even here" shoko announced as she walks away leaving the both of you. gojo pulled you closer to him and he was smirking.
"oh? did you finally remember what date is it today?" you asked, crossing your arms. he was always busy with the school and missions, it started to convince you that he forgot about it.
this day was always special for the both of you, the day where you two have shared a loving bond and giving promises to each other that's been kept constantly till to this day.
"happy anniversary" he kisses you in the lips. "i will never get tired of loving you."
you let him kiss you, god you loved him. he smelled good.
you tiptoed trying to align your height with his, arms wrapping around his nape as you feel his slowly holding your waist.
the kisses you had with him were always this passionate, like it was the first time.
you pulled away, tasting something different and started giggling, "toru, is that a new lip balm?"
he was pouting, he didn't want to end the kiss.
"yeah, i bought a new one because i ran out," he replies, feeling both of his thumb making circles on your waist while looking at you flirtingly, "it's your favorife flavor too."
your smile widened, "then, don't blame me when i ask for more kisses often."
"i will never complain princess."
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© ORIHIMEII 2023 all rights reserved, do not copy or plagiarize my work including my theme and graphics that i've done, thank you.
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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# IN A WORLD OF BOYS, THEY’RE GENTLEMEN | MV1 & CL16
summary: people always like to jump into conclusions and you are the internet’s newest victim, the ‘slut playing with two boys’. little do they know, there’s more to the story.
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warning: kaia gerber as fem!reader, cursing, toxic fans, tiny bit of angst because i like to make them suffer, f1 grid because they need their own warning. inspired in the song slut! by taylor swift.
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# INSTAGRAM
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Liked by user01, f1wagsnews and 152,840 others
paddockgossip Max Verstappen and a mysterious girl spotted in Monaco this afternoon. This is the second time we’ve seen them in a span of two weeks. We still don’t know who she is, but they seem pretty close. Is Max Verstappen finally taken?
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user01 not paddockgossip calling max’s childhood friend a ‘mysterious girl’ loool
user02 she’s been getting so much attention ever since they started dating
user03 we don’t even know if they’re actually dating
user04 i’m sure i’ve seen her before 🤔
user05 that’s because you have! she was seen with charles leclerc like a month ago but no one talks about it bc they haven’t been seen together after that user06 she’s friends with max AND charles????
user07 is this really max wearing non redbull merch???
user08 the girlfriend effect is real user09 ffs we don’t know if they’re dating
user10 no one’s asking the important question here: who is she?? do we have an instagram, twitter, something????
user11 she’s @/yourusername user12 no way she’s THAT pretty
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Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 63,734 others
yourusername tummy hurts don’t talk 2 me
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user13 so this is max’s new girlfriend?
user14 shes one of us.
user15 SHE LIKES MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANA DEL REY? SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR
user16 and she has stomach issues too. it’s like looking at myself in a mirror
charles_leclerc but i was omw with some goddies, what do i do now?
yourusername tummy don’t hurt anymore 🥺
user17 i didn’t know charles and y/n were that close
user18 girl haven’t you seen the photos? user17 WHAT PHOTOS
maxverstappen1 i won’t say i told you so but i told you so.
yourusername you’re no fun at all
user18 oh to be y/n and have not one but two formula 1 drivers flirting with me in the comments
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# TWITTER
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# INSTAGRAM
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Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 135,767 others
yourusername book nerds! 📚 we have some really exciting changes coming for our book club in the next couple of weeks — but in the meantime, i want to share that the incredible @/lauradern will be joining us to talk about “honey, baby, mine”, a collection of conversations between laura and her mom… grab a copy and join us next thursday!
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ana_d_armas This is amazing! 👏👏 can’t wait to join you and know more about this amazing book.
user19 Reading now!
user20 is that-is that really max verstappen?
user21 max verstappen? like as in formula one champion max verstappen? THAT ONE?
user22 what is max doing with her?
user23 do u think he knows about what’s going on with her and charles? think about your gf cheating on your face with your so called ‘friend’ user24 he has to know otherwise that’s pretty sad. user22 think about your gf cheating on you with your friend and having to see that friend every weekend… that’s so fucking awkward!
user25 where is charles? you got tired of him already? 😂
redbullracing You said he was gonna join your book club but all I see is Max napping. Bad. Very bad behavior.
yourusername sorry admin i tried!
user26 i need an explanation, like i would settle for anything at this point i just wanna know what is happening with them
user27 stop freaking out! they’re probably just friends
user28 yeah right nobody believes that
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paddockgossip New photos of Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N out and about in Barcelona. There are multiple witnesses that saw the couple ‘very cozy, they couldn’t stop touching each other’ inside the restaurant — this comes after the pictures of Y/N with Charles Leclerc kissing on his yatch just a week ago. We don’t know what is happening, who is cheating on who, but we do not support this kind of behavior.
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user29 this is disgusting
user30 what is this chick playing at?
user31 oh shut up you all. you wish you were her.
user32 WHAT IS GOING ON WHY IS NO ONE SAYING SOMETHING ??? user33 probably because this is bullshit
user34 you don’t know anything. is actually so fun seeing you all losing your minds over this.
user35 I NEED ANSWERS
user36 they look good together ngl
francisca.cgomes 😂
user37 kika what does this mean
user38 they’re sick
user39 she’s jumping from one driver to another it wouldn’t surprise me if the next one is lando.
user40 at this point i think she would pretty much crawl into anybody’s bed
user41 she’s just looking for fame
user42 that’s what i’m saying! just look at her followers now, she gained like 100k user43 oh i hate her so much
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paddockgossip Well, well… We really thought we wouldn’t get any more news about the chaotic mess between Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen & Charles Leclerc, so, we were a little surprised to see Charles’ latest instagram story (second slide) where he tagged Y/N! It’s a beautiful picture but then we have Y/N’s story: a conversation between her and Max Verstappen. So, what do you think is happening here?
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user45 OH MY GOD LOVE OF MY LIFE?????
user46 are they-are they soft launching their relationship?
user47 nah it’s mpossible these boys don’t know y/n is playing with them
user48 oh bestie that is so not what’s happening here
user49 I KNEW IT BUT NO ONE BELIEVED ME
user50 what the actual fuck
user51 she’s such a slut
user52 she’s cheating and she doesn’t care. iconic
user53 i’m gonna throw up
user54 they need to get out of there asap
user55 SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM
user56 OH MY FUCKING GOD SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM. SHES DATING LESTAPPEN
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yourusername you really thought you knew it all, uh?
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maxverstappen1 loves of my life.
liked by author and charles_leclerc
user57 WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFF
charles_leclerc my pretty girl and pretty boy.
liked by author and maxverstappen1
user58 THEY ARE DATING??? THE THREE OF THEM??
carlossainz55 FUCKING FINALLY.
user59 LESTAPPEN IS REAL WTF
lilymhe i love you all so much. 🩷
pierregasly you can finally stop moaning to me about wanting to be public. i was just about to commit murder.
user60 i never thought i would see the day where charles and max would be kissing
user61 not only that but also dating user62 in a poly relationship*
francisca.cgomes my favorite throuple. 💜
user63 this is so NOT what i was expecting
landonorris can you adopt me?
oscarpiastri me too, please.
user64 the fifth pic??? i also wanna kiss both of them pls
redbullracing Can we celebrate now? 🥺
scuderiaferrari My house? 10PM?
alex_albon this is such a surprise to me. i’m shocked.
danielricciardo MY PARENTS. 🤩
user65 look at that last slide 😭 they really were destined to be together.
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headkiss · 11 months
Text
you’ll always know me
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part 1, part 2
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.
word count: 8.6k
warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!
a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!
♫♩♪♬
It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.
To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.
Closer than anyone ever would, still.
To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.
You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.
Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.
(“Hello?”
“I can’t get this line to sound right.”
“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)
You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.
Because you do. You miss him so much.
A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.
There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.
‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’
You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.
You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.
Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.
Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.
Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.
-
Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.
Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.
He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.
Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.
At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.
Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.
He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.
He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.
Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.
“Munson! You’re on in five!”
He’ll call you later, then.
-
“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”
The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.
He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.
It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.
His hands clench into fits in his lap.
As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.
Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.
The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.
After all, it was home.
Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.
Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.
Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”
He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”
“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”
“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”
“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”
“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.
He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.
He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.
“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”
“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”
Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.
Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.
By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.
He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.
In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.
“Thanks.”
He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.
In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.
“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.
They both know he means you.
“How’s she doing?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”
“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”
“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”
Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.
“She misses you,” Wayne adds.
“She tell you that?”
“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”
Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.
Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.
“I miss her, too.”
“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”
“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was still fuckin’ funny.”
“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”
Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.
In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.
Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.
He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.
-
Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.
Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.
You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.
“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.
You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”
He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”
Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.
You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”
His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”
And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.
You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.
“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.
“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.
“Eddie!”
“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”
Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.
Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.
“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”
“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”
“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”
“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”
You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”
He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.
Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.
“You working late?” He asks.
“Until we close.”
“Care for some company?”
You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”
“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”
It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.
It’s all better than not having him at all.
“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”
“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.
“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”
He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”
You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”
Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.
He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.
He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.
“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”
“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”
-
The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.
Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.
Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.
The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.
You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.
On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.
He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.
It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.
After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”
“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.
When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”
You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.
“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”
Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.
You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.
Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.
He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.
When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.
Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.
The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.
Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.
Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.
“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.
She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.
“‘Course I am.”
“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”
He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”
“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”
He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.
“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.
“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”
It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.
It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.
-
You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.
They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.
“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”
“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”
“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”
Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.
Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”
You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.
“Look who I brought,” You announce.
Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”
“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.
It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.
All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.
“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.
“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.
“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.
“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”
And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.
You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.
He plops down beside you.
“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.
Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.
“You could definitely say that.”
Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.
He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.
Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”
The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.
It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.
You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.
When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”
His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”
And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.
Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”
You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.
Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?
You laugh awkwardly, “what?”
“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.
“Me and Eddie?”
He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.
“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”
You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”
“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.
Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.
Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.
Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.
He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.
-
It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.
Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.
There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.
Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.
“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.
You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.
“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.
“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”
He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”
“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”
“Getting cheap, trouble?”
You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.
It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.
Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”
“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.
His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.
“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”
“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”
Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.
“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”
“You’re still my loser.”
How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.
“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.
You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”
Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.
“I miss you, too, trouble.”
Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.
“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“
“I think about you a lot, honey.”
Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.
Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.
“You do?”
“All the time. You’re my best friend.”
Right. Friend.
“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”
And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.
Against all odds, he does.
Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.
He’s kissing you.
It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.
It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.
When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.
“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.
“Was it okay?”
“More than okay.”
You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.
-
Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.
You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.
Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.
Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.
He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.
The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.
Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.
Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.
You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”
Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.
You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.
So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.
“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”
“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”
“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”
“I mean right now.”
You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.
He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.
“Did you have a show today?”
You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.
“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”
“Nervous or excited?”
It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”
“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”
“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”
He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”
“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”
“You asked!”
“You answered the question wrong, honey.”
There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.
“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”
“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”
“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”
“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”
“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”
Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.
Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.
Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.
“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.
“Hm?” He hums sleepily.
“I lost you for a second there.”
If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”
“You wanna hang up?”
“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”
You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”
And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.
Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.
There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.
The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.
-
The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.
You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.
That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.
They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.
“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”
You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.
Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.
If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.
Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.
“Eddie?”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”
“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”
Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.
“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.
“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”
“You do not.”
“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”
“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”
Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.
“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too.”
“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”
They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.
“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”
“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”
Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.
“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”
It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.
“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”
“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”
Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”
“You don’t?”
He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.
“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”
No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.
He’s so, so fucked.
“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”
You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.
“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.
“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”
“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”
“Yeah, I did.”
And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.
Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
-
After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.
But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.
He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.
What the hell is wrong with him?
Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.
“What?” He pauses in the doorway.
“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.
“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.
“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.
“I do not sound like that.”
“You kinda do,” Jeff says.
“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”
Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.
These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.
Yeah, he’s so fucked.
♫♩♪♬
thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!
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hearts4renaa · 11 months
Text
YOU'RE LOSING ME.
summary: how the love began to die out between you and them. featuring kamisato ayato, alhaitham, diluc, and zhongli. gn! reader (see a/n below) pt. 2 here w/c: 2.1k words in total a/n: inspired by the new vault track from midnights by taylor swift. meant to be a gender neutral reader but one of the lyrics i reference uses "her". otherwise, no pronouns used.
And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.
“I’ll be entering an arranged marriage to the daughter of another clan.” Ayato said matter of factly, as if it was as casual as discussing the weather. Today was the off day Ayato had free. He’s been so busy the past month that he barely has time for you. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you woke up together. He always slept late and woke up earlier than you. The affection was rarely there too; The usual loving kisses and cuddles were reduced to pecks on the cheek and pats on the arm. This was one of the rare times you were actually able to sit down with him. 
The air was tense, almost impossible to breathe in. What was supposed to be a romantic dinner quickly turned sour the moment Ayato announced a piece of news you never wanted to hear. “I’ll be meeting her in two weeks. I’m expecting the marriage ceremony to take place within the next three months or so.” He wasn’t looking at you, instead more focused on the food in front of him. Your chopsticks fall from your hands, the clatter piercing the silence between you two. Ayato looks at you, completely deadpanned. You take the moment to really, truly look at him. His expression was standoffish, and his eyes were dispassionate. Just where did that loving gaze go? “What?” He asks.
“Ayato, you can’t just expect me to be happy about this.” You huff in frustration, picking up your chopsticks and setting them down in a proper manner. “When you accepted the proposal, did you just forget about our relationship? About me?” 
Ayato rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re acting like I declared undying love for her. I’m simply doing what’s best for the clan, and for Inazuma as a whole.” He puts down his chopsticks as well, clearly not focused on eating anymore. “It’s not like I’m ending things with you. Marrying her opens many opportunities I can’t pass on.”
“You’re not ending things with me, but you’re just gonna go off and marry some girl?” Your heart broke a little more with every word. If someone were to listen closely, they could probably hear each individual crack. “Ayato, our relationship has already been wavering a little…you’re so busy. It’s like you just can’t fit me into your schedule.” Your eyes start to become glossy, and you need to swallow back your tears to fight against them falling. “How can I expect us to stay together when you need to make room for two spouses now? I thought love meant more to you than business did.” Your voice cracked with every syllable that fell from your lips.
Ayato stood up from his seat on the floor, adjusting his sleeves and beginning to make his way to the door. He slides it open before stopping in place. “Marrying her has a lot to offer.” He speaks, but he isn’t even looking at you.
“And I don’t?” You ask. You didn’t even know if you wanted the answer to that. Luckily for you, he didn’t answer at all. He looked back at you from over his shoulder. He takes a breath, and you feel as if he’s stealing the air straight out of your lungs. He turns his head back and sighs. He steps forward, leaving the room. 
The door shuts, and you are left in silence.
And I’m fading, thinking: Do something babe, say something.
With Alhaitham being appointed as Acting Grand Sage, it’s only natural that his workload for the Akademiya would increase. However, if there’s one thing that Alhaitham truly hates, it’s when unnecessary work piles up and begins to leak into his personal life, like a bucket overflowing with water. A work-life balance can only go so far before work begins to completely tilt the scale in its favor. Naturally, this takes away from time the two of you could spend together.
Normally, that would be completely fine with you. You knew Alhaitham was a busy man with a busy lifestyle. It’s completely reasonable for him to not throw aside his work just for you. Alhaitham always tries to make time for you, to show you his affection in small ways that don’t take up too much time. Either with tea he makes for you before he leaves for work, small trinkets that begin to appear on your bedside table, or a hushed declaration of love when he accidentally wakes you up when he rises early. But recently, his efforts have been slowly dwindling. You no longer wake up to the smell of tea. You no longer reach over to your nightstand in a sleepy haze, only to feel an object that was not there before. You no longer hear an “I love you” amongst the sound of your bedsheets ruffling in the early hours of the morning.
Of course, you noticed. So you took it amongst yourself to try and do something to express your love. You usually go to sleep before him, but here you are in the living room, waiting for him to return. It’s already quite late, and you fight back a yawn every twenty minutes or so, but you’re determined to stay awake to greet him. The smell of his favorite food wafts in from the kitchen, and you smile while thinking of his reaction. You might not be a Michelin star chef, but you pour love into everything you make him.
Finally, the door opens, and there he is. His eyes are tired, and an annoyed expression is etched onto his face. “Hey, honey.” You shoot up from your seat to greet him at the door. His head snaps in your direction slightly, not expecting you to still be awake. He lets out a little grunt as a response. You can tell he’s in a bad mood, but you keep pushing. “You’re home late.” You state before realizing how you pointed out the painfully obvious.
“I always am.” His voice is monotone, cold. He walks straight past you, barely even sparing you a glance.
Your hope begins to falter, but you try again. “Are you hungry? I made you dinner.” You reach your hand out to lightly touch his. He pulls his hand away with no hesitation. You feel the familiar sting deep in your stomach, and you try your best to ignore it. You clear your throat as if to rid the moment of his past action before speaking again. “Then, maybe we could eat together-”
He groans aloud. “Can you just be quiet?” He snaps. His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t filled with love or hate. It was indifference, and in all honesty, that hurt so much more. “I’m exhausted. The last thing I need today is you nagging me.” 
You falter, as if you were shrinking away in a desperate attempt to try and disappear. “Right.” Your voice is quiet, meek. “Of course.” You turn away to walk into the kitchen, and you hear your shared bedroom door slam shut. You sit at the dinner table, gazing at the untouched meals on the opposite ends. Your hand moves to touch the spoon and stir it around in the food, but any outsider could tell that you have no intention of eating a single bite. 
For the rest of the night, you sit there alone as the food goes cold.
Lose something babe, risk something. (You’re losing me.)
If there’s one thing Diluc strives to do, it’s protect you. He lost his father already, he can’t risk losing you too. It brings him peace to know that you’re safe at Dawn Winery, away from things that can bring you harm. But even though he is protective, it’s not as though he keeps you locked inside the house. He knows of your adventurous spirit and he would never want to hurt you. However, he has a habit of being a little paranoid. The people of Mondstadt are aware of your relationship, but he rarely lets the two of you be seen together. He prefers things quite private, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it.
You just returned from a small commission; it’s been ages since you’ve done one. It felt so refreshing to wield your weapon and go on a mini adventure! Even if it was just a few slimes near Windrise, the experience was one you haven’t had in far too long. You end up with a small cut on your hand, but you look at it in pride as you walk back to the winery. You open the heavy door, and you’re met with the face of your lover.
“Y/N, where were you?” Diluc’s question is loud, his voice laced in concern. A second barely passes, and he’s already by your side. He catches sight of your hand and cages it in his larger ones. “Why is your hand hurt?”
You shake him off lightly, heading to the couch to set your things down. “I took a small commission.” You explain. “Just a little group of slimes. My hand got cut, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about it!” You attempt to reassure him, but the crease in his eyebrows doesn't go away.
“Y/N, how many times have I told you?” Diluc scolded. He folds his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to take commissions. I provide for us enough already.”
Your eyes roll before you can stop them. You can feel your frustration rise inside you. “I didn’t take the commission for the money, Diluc.” You huff at him. “I wanted an adventure, even if it was a small one. It’s the experience I wanted.”
Diluc scoffs. “Oh, so getting hurt is an enjoyable experience for you?” Diluc never had the most friendly tone, but you’d have to be truly clueless to miss the sarcasm weaved into his words.
“By the Seven, Diluc, it was a cut!” You exclaim. “All of this over a cut?”
He looks you in the eyes. “You know I just want you to be safe.”
Your eyes softened slightly, biting your lip. “But Diluc, you play it too safe sometimes.” You grab your weapons and bag again, adjusting your jacket before heading towards the door. Despite just getting home, you felt the need to get away, to cool off. Maybe to kill some other monsters, you weren’t sure.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“Out.” You respond curtly. You weren’t sure of your destination, but you didn’t care. You just needed to be away from him.
“Y/N-“ He called out. You cut him off by slamming the heavy winery doors.
Choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.
“I love you.” Zhongli murmured, knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping his pole arm. He towered over you, who was on the ground in a pool of blood. The metallic smell was hard to ignore. “I love you, I truly do. And I always will.”
You laugh bitterly. “You love me, and you caused my injury.” You use your hand to weakly gesture towards your torso. “Some love you have…”
Zhongli grips his weapon even harder. He digs the heels of his feet into the group as an effort to ground himself. He knew that if he were to take a single step, he’d run to you, and he’s not sure if he can stop himself. He takes a breath to calm himself, and every breath of air he breathes makes him wish he could breathe that same life into you instead. “It’s for my nation.” He says as calmly as he can. Oh, how he wished he could run to you, kiss you, and heal you. He continues with bated breath. “You know I cherish my nation.”
You cough, blood splattering out. “More than you cherish me?” You ask weakly. “More than you cherish us?”
Zhongli’s eyes soften with sadness. “Yes…more than I cherish you, my love.”
You sigh, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit you like a truck. You’re so tired. So, so tired. You voice out your thoughts. “I’m exhausted, Zhongli.” Your voice is weak, along with your body.
“I’m sorry.” He says before facing away from you. He can’t bear to look at you in this state. He can’t bear to see what he’s done to you. He takes slow steps away, using all his willpower to not turn around and run to your side.
“I love you, Zhongli.” You call out.
He takes one final look. “I love you too, dearest.”
A sad, soft smile etches itself onto your face. Your eyelids droop, and eventually, they flutter closed. Zhongli stares at you sadly. His weapon drops to the ground, making a loud clatter. The silence is deafening. He peers at your lifeless body before closing his eyes. “You’ll always be my favorite story.” He whispers.
A single tear falls from his eyes.
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lizthewriter · 8 months
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i think there's been a glitch / theodore nott
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PAIRING  Theodore Nott x studious!shy!Reader
SUMMARY  Theodore Nott was well known for the sort of happenstances that occurred in his dorm. However, the new transfer student seems to catch his eye in particular - that transfer student is you. His friends think that, at first, he has his eyes set on you for more sinful reasons, but he soon proves that his intentions are more romantic than anyone ever thought.
TAGS  Theodore Nott x Reader, angst, if you squint, idiots in love, cursing, kissing, study buddies, friends to wtf is this to friends with benefits but also wtf is this to lovers, theo is a simp, reader is not slytherin, can be any other house, reader has social anxiety, references to sex, underage drinking, headmaster's list = dean's list, gender neutral reader
"We were supposed be just friends, / you don't live in my part of town, but maybe I'll see you out some weekend, / depending on what type of mood and situationship I'm in, / and what's in my system," - Glitch by Taylor Swift
WORD COUNT  3.2K
WRITTEN  27.08.2023
A/N This came as a burst of inspiration during calc class when I realized I was really the only person answering my professor's questions in my classes, lmaoo 😭😭 so this is purely self-induglent. i hope you guys enjoy <333
When you had transferred to Hogwarts, you hadn't made very many friends. All right, you hadn't made any friends. Because you had transferred to Hogwarts so late in your academic career, everyone had already formed their own friend groups. No one had any real interest in you - that was, they were interested in why you transferred, but not in assimilating you into their social circles. Your professors, however, had grown quite fond of you, most likely due to your dedication to your studies. And eventually, around midway through the fall semester, you were called into the Headmaster's office. It had kept you on your toes all day - had you done something wrong? Gotten in trouble? Your mind had come up with most elaborate and unlikely scenarios that might have cause you to get called into the Headmaster's office.
You were awarded the honor of being added to the Headmaster's list. Only two others in your year were granted the same honor - Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott. All three of you were maintaining straight O's. You and Hermione had never gotten the opportunity to grow close - it might have been the fact that she was much more close-mindrd than you, or the fact that she didn't have the time to spare to make new friends between her studies and all the "Chosen One" stuff going on. You wanted to at least make one friend, instead of an academic rival, which you made the mistake of creating at your previous school.
So, you approached Theo after the meeting, your hands clamy and shaking while you stuttered out your request to study together. Theo simply watched you with those dead eyes of his before nodding. It had unnerved you but you pushed yourself to confirm a date and time with him. And so began your little friendship.
You were never meant to be more than study partners. Weekly study sessions in the library grew into bi-weekly gatherings, which then grew into daily meetings. And then you were meeting each other after class, making inside jokes, hanging out just because. Slowly, but surely, you and Theo grew close. You weren't sure you had ever been this close with anyone before. It was like he just knew you, not only like the back of his hand, but like every square inch of his body.
And Theo? Theo had never saw you coming. He didn't know that he wanted to be friends with you until you were friends, and then he couldn't stop coming back. You were like a drug. He needed another hit each and every time he saw you. Soon enough, he was aching to spend every waking moment with you. It had started as nothing more than a mutually beneficial partnership, but it grew to be much more than that.
It took him a while to realize he loved you. Cared for you. He was well reputed for sleeping around and having a general devil-may-care attitude. He knew that he loved you when he began to grow tired of the constant flings and one-night stands. When he called off the on-and-off relationship he'd had with a particularly vivacious Slytherin girl. He hated the way girls threw themselves at him, vying for his attention like wildcats fighting over a piece of meat. You weren't like that. You were perfect.
He knew he wanted to ask you out. His friends scoffed at the idea, thinking he was joking. They were shocked when they realized he was serious. Mattheo had even knocked on his head, asking if Theo was really in there. It had to be perfect, so he went to the only people he knew who had ever been in serious relationships. Mostly everyone had told him the same thing - find out what you liked. Woo you. It was rather simple. "For someone who is so smart, you're rather stupid, you know," Blaise had told him. He secretly agreed.
First, he had bought a collection of muggle novels for you at a book store on a forgotten. It had beautifully decorated covers, guilded with golden etchings. When you had sat down to study one day, Theodore had dropped it on the table in front of you while he pulled out his books.
"What's this?" You had asked in confusion.
"It reminded me of you," he said simply, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through it to find where he had last left off.
You furrowed your brows as you pulled the box towards you, unclasping the front of it and pushing it open. You let out the small gasp at the gorgeous hardcovers resting inside, hands trailing along the sturdy spines. Five Muggle Classics, the interior of the box cover said. "Theo . . . " Your voice trailed off at the thoughtfullness of the gift - you were left utterly speechless. "I can't take this. I can't imagine how expensive how this was." You slid the case of books back to Theo. He stopped it, pushing it back towards you.
"Take it. I can't return it. Besides, I got it for you. I would hate to see these go to waste."
You bit your bottom lip before pulling the box back towards you, a smile spreading across your face as you pulled out one of your favorite muggle classics. You flipped through the pages, allowing that paticular new-book smell to wash over you like the waves on a shore. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.
-
You never came to parties. Mostly because you hated all the drinking and crowds and the mixture of stroking lights and booming music that made you dizzy. But you had started to develop feelings for a particular friend of yours. He was tall, devilishly handsome, and more intelligent that anyone you'd ever met. He smelled of evergreen trees, cigarettes, and lilac. You felt for him in a way that you had never felt for anyone else. You were always so laser-focused on you studies, but you realized that your attention had been straying towards a paticular someone as of recently.
You knew he hung around these sort of parties, finding pretty girls to have a fun night with. You wore the most insanely inappropriate dress you could find, hoping to catch his attention. You weren't exactly sure what your goal for that night was, but you were certain you wanted it to end with you and Theo, alone.
Of course, Theo was shocked to see you there. Even more shocked to see you out of the jeans and sweaters you usually wore, standing in a tight little number that had him practically frothing at the mouth. Not that you weren't always stunning, but you were stunning stunning. He wouldn't have approached you normally, but with the alcohol currently coursing through his system, he had a boost of courage and stupidity.
Five seconds later, he was standing right behind you, calling your name. You turned around to face him with a grin. "Hey, there you are."
"What are you doing here?" It sounded much more like a statement than a question - he was seemingly distracted by something else about you.
"I came to see you, silly. And to see what all the rage is about."
"And?"
"I've come to the conclusion that parties suck."
Theo laughed, something hearty that rumbled through his chest. "Want to go somewhere else?"
"Please," you responded with a role of your eyes. "I'm starting to get a headache." You had stupidly accepted a drink and chugged down the bitter alcohol earlier - that didn't bode well for your head when you were already bothered by loud music sober.
Theo's eyes searched the room for somehwere that might be a little quieter - his eyes landed on the staircase to his dorm. Well, where else was there to go? He lead you up the steps, the two of you laughing as he kept you from stumbling down the stairs, and guided you to his dorm. He sat you down on the bed, grabbing a glass on his bedside table, and filled it up with the spell Aguamenti.
"Thanks," you said sweetly, taking it from his hand and taking a long sip. You took a good look at the room, easily able to tell whose area of the roo. was whose. Mattheo's was messy - clothes strewn across the bed and floor. Draco's was neat and filled with a variety of potions book, his bedside table cluttered with potions of a variety of colors, lined up in orderly rows. Blaise had a poster of his favorite Quidditch team plastered on the wall, as well as a family photo filled with all his siblings. Theo's, however, was minimal and tidy aside from the piles of books. His bed was neatly made, the corners of the covers tucked under the mattress.
You finally met Theo's eyes and finally saw some sort of emotion - it took you a moment to identify it as hunger. You glanced down at the outfit you were wearing and flushed, your eyes staying firmly on the ground.
"You look very pretty."
You felt your heart stop in your chest. Had Theo called you . . . pretty? You were in shock - sure, you had come to the party with more than friendly intent, but you had never expected that he would actually notice you the way he had noticed other girls.
"Y-you - you look very handsome."
Theo watched you for a moment - he was standing only a foot away with arm wrapped around the four-poster, hanging off from it slightly. There was an odd sort of tension in the room - you both knew what you wanted and you both knew you wanted it now. Both of your inhibitions were lowered because of the alcohol, so it was that one split desicion that changed everything. Soon enough, his lips were planted into yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other trailing along the side of your body. Everything had happened so fast - it went from the hand on your hips guiding you down onto the mattress to clothes strewn on the floor to sleeping heavily within each other's arms. It was hours before you woke again, and you were grateful that none of his friends had come up from the party yet. He helped you get dressed, a look of almost disbelief settled into his features as you left, sending him an awkward smile before you closed the door. What had he done?
-
The next day you had studied together like nothing happened. You cracked a joke. He laughed. You helped him with Transfiguration, he helped you with Ancient Runes. Another day passed. And another. And another. Theo was going beyond mad - what were you two now? Were you still friends? Were you dating? He felt like he wanted to yank all his hair out of his head.
That was, until about a week later. Late at night, the two of you were studying in the library. He was huddled next to you, embarrassingly distracted by your beauty while you were trying to help him with a homework problem he got stuck on. He finally snapped back to attention as you pointed to something on his parchment, leaning downwards to see exactly what you were pointing at. At the same time, you had turned your head to see what had him so distracted. The resultant situation: your noses bumped together and he could feel your heavy, hot breath on his lips.
Flashbacks to the night you shared soared through both of your minds. And it was you, this time, who had made the stupid desicion. You lunged for his lips with desperation, fingers snaking through his hair, a hand planted on his chest. He had tensed in surprise before returning the kiss with equal fervor. It wasn't long before you were quickly packing your things and Theo was dragging you to some abandoned room, your lips entangled as he pressed you up against the wall. The moonlight seeped in through the red glass-stained windows, dancing deliciously on your skin. Forever engraved in his memory was the picture of you, the only word on your lips being his name, grasping his shoulders with need.
-
Neither of you knew what kind of relationship you had descended into. It involved rather intimate gatherings from time to time, but for the most part, you were just friends. It was an almost seamless friendship between you two - except for the nagging thoughts at the back of both of your minds that kept you wondering if the other really felt the same way.
Theo buried his face into his hands, surrounded by a group of friends who had utterly no idea what to do. Their eyes watched him with trepidation and worry. It was oddly concerning how much he was stressing over this. Theo never seemed to stress about anything. But here he was, hands fisted in his hair, staring down at the ground in utter disillusionment.
"I've ruined everything. All cause I couldn't keep it in my fucking pants."
"That can't be it, mate," Mattheo tried reassuring him. "Look, you said they're different, yeah? All the other girls you've slept with found someone else after you. But they keep coming back for more. That has to mean something, right?"
"Yeah, you've just got to romance them," Blaise said. Theo groaned.
"Please never open your mouth again."
"I'm serious. Take her to Hogsmeade, that'll show them."
Theo leaned his face upwards, staring at Blaise. He was right - taking someone to Hogsmeade virtually meant asking them out on a date. You had to know the innuendo by now, being at Hogwarts as long as you have. "Blaise, you're brilliant." He clapped his friend on the back, rushing out of the dorm to find you.
-
You scanned the bookshelves for books with more information on Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The idea fascinated you - how come you could conjure any sort of non-edible object from nothing, but with food you couldn't? At the root of it, everything was made of subatomic particles, then atoms, then particles, and so on. So, theoretically, anything could be created from nothing, correct?
You were so enraptured by your own thoughts that you had no conception of your surroundings and bumped right into someone walking straight towards you. The books in your arms tumbled onto the floor and you flushed a bright red, bending down to pick them up.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, hastily collecting the books from the ground. The boy, who you hadn't really looked at yet, bent down to help you collect them as well. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm really -"
As you stood up, you finally got to look at his face - and it turned out to be Theo. His face was just barely flushed, and the emotion in his eyes held a deep meaning that you couldn't quite decrypt. You didn't have a chance to ask him what he was doing, because he beat you to it.
"Go to Hogsmeade with me."
"I'm sorry?"
"Hogsmeade. You and I. Interested?" His tone was strained, and you realized what emotion finally lay beyond those dead eyes. Fear.
You knew what he was insinuating. Was he - asking you out on a date? Did that mean he really did like you? More than just as someone he could have a little fun with time and again, someone who was just a friend. You stared up at him for quite a while, not realising how silent you were as you sunk into the rabbit hole of your own thoughts.
"I - erm - all right, then." You were still quite in a bit of shock. "Will you -"
"Yeah, I'll wait for you outside your common room." The fear in his eyes seemed to dissipate, his shoulders sagging in relief.
"Right. Yeah, sounds good. Great."
-
You had bundled up for the cold weather, a thick scarf wrapped around your neck and a hat with your house emblem on your head. You tried to dress in something nice underneath the layers of warmth - it had taken you a long time to decide what exactly you wanted to wear, but you had eventually come to a conclusion.
When you exited the dormitory, you found Theo bundled up with an equal amount of layers, yet he looked just as attractive as he always did. In his hands, he held a single rose. You flushed a bright red, especially as a group of first year girls giggled as they exited the dorm behind you.
"Hello," Theo said simply, handing you the rose.
"Hello," you responded shyly, taking it gratefully and holding it in your hands. You smiled nervously, rocking back and forth on your feet. "So."
"So. Are you ready?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Theo grabbed your hand, holding it gently. You hid your face from his view, not wanting him to know the kind of affect he had on you as he lead you through the castle. "What do you want to do first?"
You had weaved your hand through his arm, resting your head on the edge of his shoulder. "Hm. I need some more quills. But we should definitely stop at the bookshop first. I want to see if they've gotten anything new."
"Okay."
Theo had never been a talkative person - and you had never really minded it, not until now. You wish that maybe he might just tell you he had feelings for you, more than feelings that only arose every once in a while. It would make this so much easier on you. But you were nervous and shy and had a hard time talking to people, even one's you've been friends with. So you remained silent on the walk there.
Theo could tell it was an uncomfortable silence. Not only did being the quiet one meant he could read a room easily, he had also been around you long enough to know when you felt uncomfortable. He stopped the two of you from walking - you were already walking the path to Hogsmeade, snow lightly covered both of your heads.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothing."
"You don't have to lie to me."
You bit the interior of your cheek nervously. Did you really want to destroy what you had with him? You were content with keeping your relationship the way it was. At least, that's what you convinced yourself.
You felt your gaze being drawn back to Theo, his fingers resting under your chin. "Don't hide from me, love, tell me what's on your mind."
"Love." You felt your heart melt into a puddle of hope and embarrassment. "Theo . . . what are we?"
Theo grabbed your hand and held it up, intertwining your fingers together. He looked at them, with something akin to fascination, and muttered, "What do you want us to be?"
You paused. "I want us to be together," you whispered, looking up at him with eyes of despair. Theo felt his heart wrench at the sight of it. He raised his other hand, brushing it lightly against your cheek.
"Then let's be together," he whispered back. He leaned downwards, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. It wasn't like any of the kisses before that - no, those were passionate, desperate, lust-filled kisses. This was loving, caring, blossoming. He dropped your hand to cup both of your cheeks in his hand, his nose biting into your cheek. "You and I. I like the sound of that."
tags: @plants-are-pretty-cool @annaisabookworm @maricardigan
Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!
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eraenaa · 10 days
Text
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.
Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 2,372
A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!
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You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 
You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 
He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 
You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 
You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  
You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 
You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 
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“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 
You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 
“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 
Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 
“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 
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Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 
You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 
“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 
Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 
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I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.
982 notes · View notes
book-place · 1 year
Text
Never Grow Up
Warnings: slight mentions of child abandonment, violence, cursing, gunshot wound, weapons, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Your family might have grown over the years, but your bond always stayed the same
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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Your little hands wrapped around my finger
Bruce looked down at you, only a couple weeks old, so tiny. So fragile. So innocent and unknowing to the horrors of the world.
You had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying, so of course he had gotten up with you, especially after Jason threatened to throw you out of the window if you woke him up again.
Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
Finally, after what felt like hours of crying and screaming, you seemed to calm down and you looked up at Bruce in an innocent wonder.
He reached down and began to adjust your shirt that had moved to an awkward angle with all of your squirming.
He paused when you reached up slowly and wrapped your hand around his index finger.
Ever since your mother had dropped you off here, claiming to Bruce that you were his daughter and she didn’t want to take care of you anymore, he had vowed he would do anything to protect you.
As he looked down at you with soft features, he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Hi, honey.” He whispered.
And it’s so quiet in the world tonight
It was weird.
All night you had been completely silent, no screaming, no crying.
While Alfred, Dick, and Bruce were all gratefully taking this opportunity to sleep without worrying about having to get up every five minutes, Jason on the other hand, didn’t like how quiet it was, it felt as if something was wrong.
As silently as he could, he snuck through the halls and into the nursery that Bruce had immediately had put in as soon as you showed up.
Don’t get him wrong, Jason didn’t like you at all. Nope. No way, no how. You were just an annoying baby that moved right into the manor not too long after him, which was only about a month ago.
He had still been in the process of adjusting to his new life, and then a baby was thrown into the mix, so if anything, he hated you.
As he opened the door and crept into your room, he didn’t really know what he was expecting. But he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be wide awake, just staring at the ceiling, not screaming and not crying like you always did whenever you were awake.
Even as you watched Jason approach you, you didn’t scream out and begin the waterworks that he was inevitably waiting for.
Pretty soon, Jason was standing right over you, staring down at you with just as much curiosity as you were to him.
Jason hesitated before slowly reaching down and gently picking you up.
All you did was stare up at him, and he continued to stare down at you.
Your little eyelids flutter cause your dreaming
Jason sat with four year old you on his lap, bouncing his knees up and down as you giggled every time you went up, almost flying in the air if it weren’t for his hands holding your sides, keeping you from going airborne.
Dick sat on the other side of Jason, secretly snapping a picture on his phone before turning his head back to the cartoon that the two had put on the tv for you. Though it seemed that they were enjoying it more than you were.
Bruce was out for the day with Alfred and they hesitantly trusted the boys to watch you, after a whole lot of begging on the younger ones' parts.
“Higher, Jay!” You called suddenly, still giggled.
The boy smiled slightly before bouncing you higher, causing Dick to look at the two of you nervously.
“You know, Jay, I think she’s going high enough.” He said, not taking his nervous gaze off of you, ready to leap forward at any moment if you were to fly out of his younger brother's arms.
He just shrugged, continuing to bounce you higher.
Fifteen minutes, and almost a heart attack, later, your giggled stopped and Jason’s leg slowed, and he looked down to see if you were okay, only to see you leaning against his chest with closed eyes and even breathing.
“Dickie,” Jason hissed, trying to get his older brother's attention.
He hummed in return, not looking away from the new cartoon.
“She’s asleep.”
That made Dick look over and he cooed over you in adoration.
“I think she’s dreaming.” Jason continued softly, watching you.
Dick nodded in return, snapping another photo.
So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light
“No, daddy!” You screamed, running away from an exhausted looking Bruce.
“It’s way past your bedtime, honey.” He practically begged, just wanting to go and get a nap in before he had to go on patrol.
You ran around the dining room table again, forcing Bruce to try and go after you.
Jason walked into the room calmly sipping a cup of coffee, “Wow, B. The five year old is faster than you.”
“Shut up.” The order man grunted in return, “Or help me get her to bed.”
His adopted son pretended to think about it, “Nah, I’m good.” Before turning on his heel and going back the way he came.
Bruce grumbled under his breath, promising himself that he would give Jason an earful later about respect.
He stopped running when an idea came to his mind, “Hey, n/n. If you get ready for bed then I’ll give you a surprise.”
You slowed your running in curiosity and looked at your father, “What kind of surprise?”
Bruce shrugged, “Guess you're going to have to see.”
The curiosity that you were feeling got the best of you and you quickly ran up the many stairs and got into your pj’s and hopped in bed.
A couple seconds after, Bruce walked in with something behind his back, which made you crane your neck to try and see what he was holding.
He bent down at one of your outlets without saying anything, plugging something in with his back covering what he was doing, then stood up and flicked off the lights.
You looked at him in confusion before he said, “Look up.”
So you did.
The sight above you made you gasp, it was the bat symbol on your ceiling, from the nightlight that Bruce had just placed in.
Batman had always been your favorite Gotham vigilante and you told your family about it all of the time, though your two brothers constantly tried to tell you that Nightwing and Robin were way better.
Bruce was able to slip out of the room unnoticed as you continued to stare up at your ceiling, not taking your eyes off of it until they started to droop.
And pretty soon, you were peacefully asleep.
To you, everything’s funny
You waddled down the stairs, scurrying into the dining room with a large grin on your face, following the delicious smell of Alfred’s pancakes.
When you got there, you were greeted with the sight of your father, Alfred, your brothers, and even your new brother, Tim, who just joined you guys at the manor about two months ago.
Six year old you had been ecstatic to gain a new brother, thinking that you could get away with more than you could with your other brothers.
“Good morning, n/n!” Dick called cheerfully, rushing over and scooping you up in his arms before plopping you down into the seat next to his and across from Tim.
“Morning, Timmy!” You exclaimed excitedly, still in the phase of becoming joyful whenever you would see the new face.
He hummed lazily in return, head in his hand as if he was putting his entire weight into it against the table. There were dark circles under his eyes that insinuated yet another restless night for him.
Sitting in front of him was a bowl of cereal, barely touched, with a spoon resting in it.
Just as you were about to turn to your own breakfast, Tim’s arm fell under the weight of his head and his eyes were closed, making him fall face first into his bowl.
Everyone looked up in surprise as the boy shot straight up in his seat, now fully awake.
Before anyone could even ask if he was okay, you let out a loud laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed.
You were laughing so hard that you had doubled over slightly against the table with your arms wrapped around your stomach, “Silly Timmy!” You exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in between giggles.
He grumbled under his breath, taking a napkin and harshly wiping milk off his face, “Glad someone finds it funny.”
You’ve got nothing to regret
Bruce stood before you with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised so high that they were lost in his hair.
“Care fo explain?” He asked sternly.
You shook your head back and forth quickly, trying to put your hand over your mouth as if it would hide your giggles, “No, daddy!” You cheered back, trying to keep up your innocent act.
“You’re six now, Y/n,” He reminded you, “You should start taking responsibility for your actions.”
“But I didn’t do it!” You protested, though your wide grin told a whole different story.
“I suppose the vase just fell over on its own then,” Your father said sarcastically.
You jumped on that story, nodding your head vigorously, “Yeah! It fell over on its own, daddy!”
He sighed, bending down and scooping you up into his arms, playfully poking your stomach, “You’re too stubborn for your own good…” He trailed off before snickering slightly, “I suppose you get that from me.”
I’d give all I have honey, if you could stay like that
“Jay Jay!” You cheered, immediately hopping into your elder brother's arms as soon as he exited the batmobile.
With a small chuckle, he caught you effortlessly before bringing you to a tight hug to his chest, “And how’s my favorite little sister doing this evening?” He asked jokingly.
You laughed loudly, shaking your head at his silly actions, “I’m your only sister!” You accused.
He pretended to think, “Hmm, is that so?”
Before you could try and reinforce that, Tim and Dick exited the vehicle as well, “Timmy! Dickie!” You cheered, causing Jason to scowl at the pair for pulling your attention away.
Dick squealed excitedly, rushing over and ripping you out of his grip and into his own, “N/n!”
Tim reached over and ruffled your hair slightly in affection.
“Daddy! Daddy!” If it was possible, your face lit up even more as your father appeared, shedding off his cowl and striding over to you.
“Hey there, honey.” He greeted with a small chuckle, gently removing you from his eldest sons grip and bringing you into his own, “Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” He teased, playfully rubbing his nose against yours.
You giggled at the tickling feeling and pull back slightly, “Nuh uh, daddy! Grandpa said I can stay up to see you!”
“Is that so?” Bruce threw a playfully accusing glare to Alfred in the corner of the room, who held his hands up in surrender with a small smile, “Come on,” He huffed teasingly, “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Dickie!” You exclaimed, straining to look over your shoulder at the boy, “Airplane! Airplane!”
With a wide grin, the boy skipped over and carefully removed you from your fathers arms and laid you horizontally so that you could spread out your wingspan and pretend you were flying.
“We should call it the batplane,” Tim snickered.
“Batplane! Batplane!” You chanted in return.
Everyone’s eyes softened as they watched you laugh loudly.
Oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up
“Go fish!” You exclaimed sassily, giggling wildly at the feigned expressions of horror that your entire family wore all around the table.
Dick let out a fake groan, dropping his head into his hands, “How do you always win this game?”
You shrugged happily, humming slightly as you picked up the cards, “I’m awesome.” You giggled again.
“Who wants cookies?” Alfred entered the room with a soft smile, it widening slightly at the sound of all the children’s excited squeals.
Dick, Tim, and Jason all shot up out of their seats and began shoving and tackling each other to get to the tray of desserts first while Bruce just ran a hand down his face tiredly.
“Uh, uh, uh,” The older man calmly sidestepped the herd of boys, “Miss. Y/n gets the first one because she is not acting inappropriately.”
You giggled again at their groans of protest, happily reaching for a cookie and leaning up to plant a quick kiss on Alfred’s cheek, “Thank you!” You chirpped, plopping back down into your seat and munching on the treat.
Don't you ever grow up
“What is this thing?” Damian asked in disgust, looking down at your grinning form.
Bruce sighed, bending down and picking you up, you automatically wrapping your arms around his neck in return, “She is your little sister.” He introduced, “Y/n, this is your brother, Damian.”
“More brothers!” You cheered.
Damian scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “That thing is not my sister.” He declared stubbornly, turning a harsh glare your way.
“Don’t talk or look at her like that,” Your father scolded with a scowl, but your smile didn’t drop.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dami!” You giggled a little bit, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.
“Damian.” He corrected through gritted teeth, “My name is Damian.”
“She’s your sister,” Bruce hissed at him, “You have to learn to deal with that.”
“Dami!” You giggled wildly, making Bruce tighten his grip on you so you didn’t slip out by mistake.
The boy glared at you in a way that promised danger until your father had to step away with you in fear of something actually happening.
“I know you don’t like it,” The man said softly, “But you’re gonna be staying with me at the manor now, and you’re going to have to get used to her.”
The young boy crossed his arms over his chest and began grumbling under his breath. Though, his glare did lessen a bit after those words.
Just stay this little
“What do you think you are doing?” It had been four weeks since Damian moved into the manor, and he had avoided you at all costs.
You whipped around with wide eyes, “Dami!” You squeaked in shock, looking up at your elder brother nervously, “I was just-“
“Have I not specifically informed you not to touch Titus?” He seethed, standing in his bedroom door menacingly.
You looked down guiltily and began shuffling your feet, dropping your hand that had been softly stroking the dog's soft fur from where he was perched on the bed, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled.
The boy scoffed with a roll of his eyes, “I do not want your pathetic apology.” He told you matter of factly.
“Titus is just such a sweet puppy,” You sadly looked up at the dog that had perked up in wonderment as to why you stopped giving him attention.
That made Damian pause, “Oh… yes. He is a good dog.” He replied hesitantly.
“Sorry for bothering you,” You mumbled again, trying to make your way past him.
“Wait,” He surprised both you and himself with his word, but you froze nonetheless, “I suppose it would not hurt for you to pet him for a few more moments.”
A wide grin broke out and your face and you automatically dashed back to the creature and began rubbing behind his ears excitedly.
“I love animals,” You began rambling happily, “They’re so adorable and sweet. I would like to have more pets, I need to tell daddy that we don’t have enough. Maybe I’ll get Jay Jay a snake, I think he’ll like one-“
For the first time, Damian looked at you in a different light. Instead of just seeing some eight year old nuisance, he finally saw a kid only a couple years younger than him that might possibly share some common interests. Maybe having you as a sister wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up
“Where are you?” Jason called in a sing-song voice, fighting off a smile as he pretended not to be able to hear your poorly muffled giggles.
He stalked down the long aisles of the bookcases in the library, where he had heard your little feet scamper off into during the beginning of the hide-and-go seek game.
Even though you were now ten years old, you weren’t any better at the game than you were at four years old, but Jason never had the heart to tell you that.
“Are you... over here?” He dramatically rounded one of the corners, raising his voice as he spoke even though he knew full well that you wouldn’t be there.
The sound of your laughter only increased at his failure and the smile grew on his lips as he strode closer and closer to your ‘hiding spot’.
“Now,” He mockingly thought out loud, “I wonder where she could be…”
Right on cue, he threw open a small closet that was tucked in between two bookcases, emitting a shrill shriek from your lips at the sudden brightness and your brother's face grinning down at you.
“Found ya,” He teased.
You laughed, “I wanna do it again, Jay!” You eagerly jumped up and skirted past him, “Count again!”
He chuckled, but placed his hands over his eyes and followed your instructions.
Don't you ever grow up
“And how was your day today, Miss. Y/n?” Alfred asked with a small smile, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat propped up on the counter, kicking your legs back and forth.
“It was good, I saw a puppy today!” You exclaimed excitedly, seemingly having waited for that very question so that you could share the good news.
“Did this puppy happen to live in this manor?” The man hummed in curiosity.
You shook your head back and forth, getting even more excited, “Nope! My teacher brought it into school today and his name is…”
Alfred just listened and nodded along with your joyful rambling, loving the way you got so excited about small things, even as you got older.
It could stay this simple
Many years ago, a tradition had started between you and your siblings that every Friday night before they went on patrol you would all have a movie night in your at-home theater.
Bruce had joined you that night and you were all lounged around on various different couches and chairs comfortably, watching whatever movie Damian had insisted upon watching.
Your father leaned back in his seat with a contempt sigh, grateful for some time to relax after a long day and what would surely turn into a long night.
The credits began rolling, and instead of hearing you and your siblings begin to chat loudly amongst yourselves, it stayed dead silent.
He quickly snapped his head over in alarm, only for his eyes to soften.
You were leaning your head against Dicks shoulder with his head on top of yours, sleeping soundly on a nearby couch. Tim, Damian, and Jason were also asleep on their nearby pieces of furniture.
A small smile tugged at the ends of the man’s lips and he stood up silently, he would let them all rest. He could survive one night without them.
I won't let nobody hurt you
“I’m gonna kill you!” Your classmate roared, reeling his fist back and getting ready to release it in your face.
Unwavering, you stood your ground with your arms in front of yourself protectively as you stared him down, completely unafraid.
He was a stereotypical mean boy jock that just so happened to make the wrong comment in front of you. And when you called him out on it, he had been less than happy. Everything quickly escalated from there into a full out fist fight outside after school.
Easily, you ducked and side stepped his pathetic attempt at a punch, sending him stumbling forward because he made the rookie mistake of putting all his weight behind it.
Reaching over, you socked him in the face in one swift motion, sending him flying back down.
“You bitch!” He cried, emitting some laughs from the onlooking crowd due to his embarrassed state.
Quickly, he got up and went to lunge at you.
“What is happening?” Damian’s voice made everyone freeze, your older brother having been able to intimidate everyone in the school.
The boy froze at the sound of the older boy and slowly turned towards him with wide eyes, paling even further at the sight of his glare.
“Sh-she-“ He tried to stutter out.
Damian paid him no mind, calmly turning to face you, “What happened?”
“He tried to hit me after I called him out for being an asshole,” You spit out.
Menacingly, your brother turned to said boy and the onlooking crowd held their breath in preparation for what was to come.
A fury seemed to set in the already embarrassed boys gut, because he let out a scream of rage and went to lunge at both of you this time.
“What the hell is going on here?” Yet another booming voice stopped all further action as none other than Jason Todd came stomping angrily through the crowd towards you and Damian.
If everyone was scared of Damian, then they were down right petrified of Jason.
Everyone in the school had heard the horror stories of when your brother ran amok in the halls and reeking havoc during his high school years.
Quickly, everyone scrambled away from the scene, except for the boy, whose collar Damian was holding onto.
“He tried to fight our sister.” The boy informed your older brother calmly.
“Is that so?” Jason turned to him with his eyebrows raised mockingly before he smiled in a similar manner, “We can’t have that, now can we?”
Won't let no one break your heart
“Where are you going?” It was an innocent question, simple even, but it still made you freeze in your steps nonetheless.
Slowly, you turned on your heel to face your brothers, who all now looked up from whatever they were doing in the living room to stare at you in curiosity.
“You look nice!” Dick chirped.
“Thanks,” You tried your best to keep your voice from wavering, failing.
Jason however, wasn’t as easily distracted as your eldest brother, “Where are you going looking so nice?”
From beside him, Tim raised an eyebrow, piecing it together pretty quickly. Unlike the rest of your brothers, who for the most part were slowly but surely getting it.
It was silent for a moment before Dicks eyes widened in horror and he shot to his feet, “You’re going on a date?” He shrieked in horror.
You blew out a huff of air, “It’s no big deal.”
“I beg to differ!” He had begun dramatically doubling over and hyperventilating.
Jason narrowed his eyes, “Who are you going on a date with?”
“A date?” Damian looked back and forth between everyone in confusion, “You all told me that she was only fourteen and therefore not allowed to go on one until she was much older.”
You threw your head back with a groan, “That’s not true! I am more than old enough!”
“We just don’t want you getting hurt,” Tim tried to reason calmly.
“You’re too young to date!” Dick sobbed, stumbling over and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.
Jason stood, crossing the room and looking down at you sternly, “I agree with Dickie-Bird, I don’t think you should go on this date.”
“What do you even know about them?” Tim offered, “Probably not enough to risk going on a date.”
“I do too know enough about them,” You grumbled, prying Dicks arms off of you.
“Tell me their address right this minute and I will judge if they are worthy enough!” Your youngest older brother declared.
Everyone ignored him.
Jason sighed through his nose, “We just want what’s best for you,”
You softened at that, relaxing in Dicks death grip that was intended to keep you from leaving the manor, “I get that,” You reassured them, “But you also have to realize that I’m growing up. And with that comes different things. Like dates.”
All four of them hesitated, “I still don’t like this,” Tim said after a moment, “But youre right.”
“I want you to text me every five minutes so I know that you’re alright.” Jason said, immediately followed by sounds of agreement from the other three.
“No,” You groaned.
“Fine… every ten minutes.” Tim reasoned.
You stood there for a moment, contemplating his words before ultimately deciding that the only way you would be getting out of there anytime soon was to agree to their terms.
“Fine,” You sighed, “Dick. You have to let go of me.”
He just stood there for a moment, sniffling slightly, before hesitantly pulling away with a look for complete sadness overtaking his features.
“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You reassured them with a small smile before slowly backing away and walking out the door.
“She’s growing up,” Tim stated after a moment with a frown pulling at the ends of his lips.
And no one will desert you
“Hands in the air!” A voice boomed through the building, causing all festivities to halt in their places automatically, “We’re robbing this damn joint!”
Immediately, everyone in the room went to the ground with their hands raised, Jason dragging you down alongside him with a soft curse, “I told Bruce this charity gala wasn’t a good idea.” He muttered.
You locked eyes with your father and Damian, the only other two there, from across the room and he silently begged you with his eyes to do as the people said and stay down.
Multiple figures with masks and guns moved up and down the room, shoving anything expensive- looking enough into some sacks that they carried.
Your entire body tensed when one of the people froze in front of you, slowly looking down at you and your brother.
With wide eyes full of fear, you allowed your hand to latch onto your brother's wrist as he shifted his body to be between you and the man.
“Hey, get a load of this!” He called in a mocking way, “These are those Wayne kids!” Clearly he hadn’t noticed your father and other brother on the other side of the room.
A couple of his friends glanced over at him with nods, not stopping what they were doing.
“You reckon they’re worth anything if we take ‘em?” Another one called out, and you had to physically restrain yourself from letting out a whimper, all other gala guests smartly choosing to stay silent.
The first one shrugged and moved as if to grab you, causing Jason to immediately shoot to his feet with a glare that could put everyone in the room six feet under, “Don’t you dare touch her,” He warned dangerously despite the gun pointed to his chest.
Right on cue, the doors slammed open and in rushed none other than Dick and Tim, suited up as Nightwing and Red Robin, quickly taking over the situation and knocking out all the robbers.
Jason turned to you as guests began to scramble out, “Are you alright?” He asked quietly.
All you could do was nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. You had never been in as much danger as you had just been in that day. And it terrified you.
“You’re alright,” He whispered softly, rubbing your back comfortingly, “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”
Just try to never grow up
“Shut up!” Jason snapped, elbowing Tim harder than necessary, making the boy stumble a bit from where he stood.
The younger of the two whipped around and glared at his brother, “Elbow me one more time.” He challenged through gritted teeth.
“You wanna go-“
“Alright, alright,” You got between the two with a huff, giving them each a small push apart, “Break it up, we have bigger things to worry about then you two breaking each other's faces.”
“Yes.” Damian agreed with narrowed eyes, “Wait until after we have surprised Pennyworth, like civil beings.”
Dick just kept on humming happily and mixing the ingredients for cookies in a large bowl that rested on the counter, “I can't wait to see the look on his face! Oh, this was such a good idea to surprise him for his birthday!” He gushed.
“Well, n/n is pretty good at coming up with plans,” Jason momentarily let his fight go and walked back to the bowl and carefully watched it.
“Here,” Tim walked over and picked up the bowl, “Let's bring this over here so we can-“
He cut himself off when his foot caught on the edge of the counter and he was sent stumbling forward, making the bowl tip over and land right on none other than Jason.
Silence rang through the kitchen as everyone froze in pace, mortified at what they had just witnessed.
Jason slowly turned his head up, “Why, you little-“
“Hey! Hey!” Dick scrambled forward and grabbed the arm Jason had begun winding up to punch Tim, “Let’s not get into this again. We can remake the dough-“
Using his other hand, Jason took a large handful of dough off of his shirt and flung it straight into Tim’s face, your eyes widening even more at the sight.
Next thing you knew, dough began flying every which way, hitting everyone in its path. Less than a minute passed before you were all covered head to toe with chocolate chips and unbaked cookie dough.
“What is-“
You all froze at the sound of Alfred’s voice, pausing a moment before all whipping in his direction. The older man was looking back and forth between all of you with slightly parted lips.
“Surprise?” You squeaked out.
Never grow up
You yawned, “This is more boring then the time we had to sit through dads speech about the importance of sleep.”
“Agreed,” Damian grumbled from beside you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning down further into his seat, “I suppose father has a knack for talking for obnoxious amounts of time and not once making it of any interest to us.”
The two of you continued to stare at Bruce up on stage, giving a speech about one thing or another and trying not to fall asleep.
“If he tired dragging us to one more of these things,” You mumbled, eyes dropping slightly, “I say we pull a Jason and steal the tires off of his car.”
“Agreed.” Your brother grunted.
You're in the car on the way to the movies
“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!” You and your siblings all chanted in sync.
Bruce let out a tired groan, running a hand down his face as he pretended not to notice the way Alfred was chuckling slightly from the driver's seat.
“If you all keep being this loud, you’re going to get us kicked out of the theater again.” He reminded you tiredly.
Jason scoffed, “Don’t act like you can’t just buy the theater so that they can’t kick us out!”
“I can't keep doing that everytime one of you messes up.” Bruce stressed.
It was silent for a moment, then the chanting started again, twice as loud this time.
“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!”
And you're mortified your mom's droppin' you off
“Dad,” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands, “I told you not to drop me off!”
Bruce looked over at you sternly, “Is this still about us being billionaires?” He questioned.
“I just don’t want people treating me any differently if they know!” You insisted.
Somehow, you had been able to keep it away from your new, out of school friends that you were the daughter of the Bruce Wayne. And you planned on keeping it that way.
“There’s no reason to be ashamed of who you are.”
“It’s not that I’m ashamed, dad,” You told him, “I just don’t want them being nice to me just because we have a lot of money.”
That made him pause, and after a moment, he pulled over to the side of the road.
You show him an appreciative look and quickly leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before hopping out of the car, “Thanks, dad! I love you!”
He smiled softly, “I love you too, sweetie. Have fun.”
At fourteen, there's just so much you can't do
You threw your head back with a groan, causing Tim to glance over at you sympathetically, “This is so stupid!” You complied with a grumble.
“I know,” He agreed.
“Why do I even have to do this?” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest and sunk farther down into the chair you sat in at a desk in the batcave.
“Cause it’s homework and getting an education is good for you,” The boy hummed.
“Easy for you to say,” You scoffed, “You’re naturally smart. You don’t have to worry about this.”
He sighed, moving his chair over next to yours, “Alright, what do you need help with?”
You perked up immediately, face lighting up like a Christmas tree, “Yes, yes, yes! You’re the best brother ever!” You gushed.
“I said I would help you, not do it for you.” He warned and you waved a dismissive hand.
“Yeah, yeah, same difference.”
And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots
You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, “Don’t act as if they didn’t start when they were way younger than me!”
Bruce rubbed his hands down his face in frustration, “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to be like them.”
“I don’t!” You protested angrily, “I want to be like them! I want to help people!”
He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is not up for discussion, Y/n.” He told you firmly, “It’s too dangerous.”
Your mouth dropped open and you gaped at him, “Too- too dangerous?” You seethed, “So it’s alright for my brothers to go out every night fighting crime as this city vigilantes with you, but not if I do it?”
“Yes!” He finally snapped, “Yes, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt! I will not let you go out there and risk your life every night. The- the boys have their reasons for doing it, but you don’t have any reason. I need you to stay here. Safe.”
You recoiled slightly at his words, “You think I can't handle it?” You whispered.
His head shook back and forth again, “That's not what I said, and you know it. You can handle yourself, I just don’t want you to need to.”
“I want to help people!” You insisted desperately.
“Help them in a different way.” His tone was final, leaving no more room for discussion, “Because I will not let you fall into this life. I couldn’t stop them from joining, but I sure as hell will stop you.”
You stared at him for a moment in an eerie silence before turning on your heel and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut harshly behind you.
Bruce flinched slightly at the noise and dropped his head into his hands.
But don't make her drop you off around the block
“I just don’t want them seeing the car.” You tried to reason, using your fathers excessive amount of money as an excuse.
“You sure about that?” Jason turned his head from the passenger seat with a smirk, “Sure you’re not just embarrassed of me and Dickie-Bird?”
You groaned, sinking further into the backseat and burying your head in your hands, “Please just drop me off around the corner.”
Your brother feigned worry, “But how will we know that you got to the movies safe, then?”
Dick snickered slightly, but pulled over where you asked nonetheless, “Come on, Little Bird. I know you used to hate this just as much as she does.”
“But we love you!” Jason teasingly called as you hurriedly exited the vehicle and slammed the door with more force than necessary, fear of someone hearing him taking over.
Their laughter did follow you all the way through the doors of the cinema, though.
Remember that she's gettin' older too
“What is it- what happened?” A look of complete horror and desperation painted your features.
You had just been getting ready to turn in for the night when you had heard a lot of commotion coming from the batcave, which was rare considering your family wasn’t normally back from patrol for at least another four hours. And even then, they always stayed as quiet as they could as to not wake you.
Alfred sighed immediately moving to gently grasp onto your arms, “Master. Bruce was shot, but-“
“Dad was shot?” You looked like you were about to throw up, but you tried to stumble past Alfred to go farther into the cave, nonetheless, shaking off his grip.
He gently reached out and grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to halt all further movements from you, “But he’ll be fine,” He continued his previous sentence reassuringly, “And I don’t think it’s wise for you to have to see him like that. He wouldn’t want you to see him like that.”
“B-but-dad-he-“ You began to become overwhelmed as you frantically stuttered things out, trying and failing to form a coherent thought.
“He’s right, n/n,” You hadn’t even noticed Dick approach the two of you until he was right in front of you and speaking.
Your head snapped over to your oldest brother, taking in his soft expression as he gently tried to urge you to calm down.
Vigorously, you shook your head back and forth and pushed away from both of them, heading straight for the room you knew they all went to whenever one of them was injured.
You pushed the door open, ignoring the way Tim shot out of his seat beside Bruce’s bed as you did so, your breathing becoming a shaky and uneven pace.
Bruce slowly moved his head to look at you, and when he did, his eyes turned sad in a way you grew to despise, “N/n-“
“Are you okay?” You asked in a panic-filled tone, rushing over to his side.
A blanket lay over his body so you couldn’t see where he was shot, “Yes, I’m fine.” He had the audacity to chuckle.
“This isn’t funny.” You snapped, “How is this at all funny?”
He quieted for a moment, neither of you paying any kind of attention as Tim slipped out of the room after giving you a small squeeze on the shoulder.
“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry.”
For the first time in your life, your father looked small to you, weak. He was always strong and determined, sure. But never had you seen him look like he did now. And it scared you.
“Dad-“ You hadn’t even realized when tears had began to roll down your cheeks, but they did and you tried to bite your bottom lip to stop sobs from slipping through.
“Come here,” He prompted softly, and you didn’t hesitate.
You rushed over to his side and fell into the chair Tim had previously been sitting in, your hand shooting out and holding onto his tightly.
“I-I don’t want to see you hurt,” You admitted tearfully.
“I know, I know.” He reached his other hand over and softly moved a piece of fallen hair out of your face, “I hate having you see me like this.” He paused, “But I would hate seeing you like this even more.”
Your eyes shot up, “Dad-“
“You know how you feel about me being like this?” He continued, “I would feel ten times worse if it was you out there instead of me, that’s the reason I don’t want you out there. Because I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something were to happen to you.”
Silence fell over the two of you like an uncomfortable blanket for a minute before you slowly nodded your head, “Okay,” You whispered, “Okay, I’ll stop trying to go out with you guys. But only if you promise that all of you will be safe. That’s the only reason I ever wanted to go in the first place, to make sure you guys were all alright.”
He squeezed your hand in appreciation, “I promise you, n/n, we’ll all be safe.”
And don't lose the way that you dance around in your PJs getting ready for school
You sang loudly to the song playing over the speaker as you spun back and forth along the kitchen floor, packing your lunch for the day.
Perhaps the music was too loud, or you were too much in your own world, because you didn’t even notice the way your brothers all crowded in the doorway, laughing quietly at your antics.
Naturally, Dick had his phone out and was recording the moment that no doubt would be used as blackmail later, but none of them could shake the soft smiles they felt unconsciously growing on their faces at the sight of it.
You looked so young and carefree, like you were five again.
Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up
“They’re really beautiful,” You admitted with a dreamy sigh, leaning further back into your seat to look up at the sky filled with thousands of stars in complete wonder.
Your father hummed in agreement from beside you, “They are.”
About a week ago, you had been complaining to him that you were hardly ever able to see any stars at night due to the bright city lights, so he decided to surprise you by taking a night off of patrol and bringing you up, over the clouds in the batplane to see them. Just the two of you.
“I can’t believe that I’m seeing them this close,” Your wide, full of wonder, eyes were yet to tear away from the devastatingly beautiful scene.
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, each observing the various constellations at your own pace.
“Dad?” The man’s head lulled to the side to find you already looking at him, “Thank you.”
He smiled softly, leaning over and gently kissing your temple, “No need to thank me. I’m glad we did this.”
Don't you ever grow up
They were the loudest in the audience by far. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be even slightly embarrassed. If anything, your grin only widened at their proud features.
Their claps and cheers of your name were enough to make your legs move across the stage as you graciously accepted your diploma before waving it in the air excitedly at them.
All in the front row, your father, honorary grandfather, and brothers all jumped up to keep their clapping, even Damian didn’t pretend not to care.
Tears shone in each and every one of their eyes as they watched you were about to take your final steps off the stage, officially having graduated high school.
Of course, there was an immense amount of pride and joy in their hearts, but there was also a sinking feeling inside that made the tears keep rolling.
The second you stepped off of that stage, you would no longer be a child. You would be off to college. You would have grown up.
Deep down, they all knew they had been dreading this very moment for as long as they could remember, but they never really anticipated what would happen when the day actually came.
But instead of voicing these thoughts and ruining your day, they continued to let their applause boom through the auditorium.
The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @xbergiex @kiyomi-uchiha777
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winterarmyy · 10 months
Text
winterarmyy's masterlist
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Disclaimer: This masterlist may contain works with adult contents that is not appropriate for those who are under the age of 18. Please proceed at your own risk. Thank you.
Taglist: I do not use taglist system for my work anymore. You may follow me and turn on the notification for new updates. Don't worry about spamming, my blog posts are only consist of fic updates and asks replies.
Navigation: For now I only write for Bucky Barnes and all of my works are complete unless stated otherwise. Each of the work under a specific universe are listed chronologically based on the story's timeline.
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Genre tags:  🥀 - angst    ⛓ - smut    🐇 - fluff    🖤 - dark
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FRIENDLY REMINDER
• I will block you if you...
MY WORK
Plot Twist Universe ft. mafia!bucky
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
♥︎ Plot Twist (🐇)(⛓) - Part I | Part II | Part III
♥︎ Around My Scars (🐇)(⛓) (🥀)
Behind The Facades Universe ft. avenger!bucky
An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.
♥︎ Behind The Facades (🥀) - Part I | Part II | Part III
And You're Mine Universe ft. alpha!bucky
How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega.
♥︎ Must Be Fate (🐇)
♥︎ And You're Mine (🐇) (🥀)
♥︎ Baby, Fever & Cuddles (🐇)
Welcome Home... Soldat? Universe ft. winter soldier!bucky
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
♥︎ Welcome Home... Soldat? (🐇) (⛓) - Part I | Part II | Part III
♥︎ Welcome Home, Daddy (🖤) (🥀) (🐇)
Promise Me Universe ft. 40s!bucky / tfatws!bucky
When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.
♥︎ Promise Me (🥀) (🐇) - Part I | Part II | Part III
Thin Walls, Thin Lines Universe ft. fuckboy!bucky
What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?
♥︎ Thin Walls, Thin Lines (🥀)(🐇)(⛓) + Deleted Scene
A Series of Bucky Drabbles
���︎ Until Then (🥀) (🐇) ft. 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky
A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with. (Inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift)
♥︎ I'm Not Like Her (🥀) (🐇) ft. avenger!bucky
Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body looks and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.
♥︎ Never Lie To Me (⛓) ft. winter soldier!bucky
In which Y/N's sinful thoughts towards the Asset is reciprocated. (Inspired by I Can See You by Taylor Swift )
♥︎ My Person (🐇)(⛓) ft. tfatws!bucky
In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.
♥︎ Kiss It Better (⛓)(🐇)(🥀) ft. avenger!bucky
In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.
More drabbles coming soon...
A Series of Random Bucky Blurbs
Midnight Rain (🥀) ft. 40's!bucky
Breast-pumping Routine (🐇) ft. avenger!bucky
Forced Marriage (🐇) (⛓️) ft. duke's illegitimate son!bucky
Support other writers here: #fic rec
MY RECOMMENDATIONS
All my recommendations are consist of Sebastian Stan's characters.
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2K notes · View notes
gasstationlady · 7 months
Text
tom holland’s school of manifestation | a charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x supermodel!reader
charles has a big crush on world renowned supermodel, y/n l/n. who would’ve thought she’d return the feelings.
notes: very much travis kelce x taylor swift inspired. faceclaim is yasmin wijnaldum! btw i try to improve with each post (like how i write/pace the story) so if you have any suggestions, pls (veryvery kindly) tell me!! :))
disclaimer: SORRY FOR TYPOS. GOOGLE TRANSLATE (and from american high school lol) FRENCH. KYM ILLMAN MENTIONED LOL. none of the information in this social media au is factual. i do use old photos of charlotte and charles, and usually i don't like to include pictures of their ex or current gfs in these fics (only bc i want to keep it as imaginative as possible and i feel like adding them kinda gives you a reality check while reading LOL) so lmk your opinions on that!
masterlist
voguemagazine
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 854,487 others
voguemagazine Since beginning modeling at the age of 14, Y/N L/N has cemented herself as the most influential supermodel of all time. As of 2023, she is now the world’s highest paid model surpassing Kendall Jenner who previously led the list. Throughout her career, she has made 39 appearances on international Vogue covers.
Tap the link in our bio to read the full profile. Photographed by @/leannafitz, Written by Phil Stevenson, Styled by @/sheri_simmons, Vogue, February 2023.
View all 942 comments
user MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user omg as someone who has been a fan since she began in 2011, i’m so proud of her 😭
user she's the definition of perfection
user LOL ariana (charles), what are you doing here
↳ user his little crush on her is soo cute 😩
↳ user he’s just like us fr lmaoo
user her walk is legendary like it reminds me so much of naomi
user i was gonna say she’s the model of our generation but that’s wrong. she’s actually the top model of all time 😩😩😩
user i’m glad to see a non-nepo baby be on top of the list
↳ user no literally like no shade to bella, kendall, and them but y/n had to fight tooth and nail to be here
↳ user frrr bc most of the nepo baby models are great, don’t get me wrong. however, they were allowed to make mistakes during their career in order to improve. y/n was not privileged enough to have that. like ppl don’t understand the insane expectations that were placed on her ever since she entered the industry, but she exceeded those expectations every. single. time. and that’s why she deserves this title
user she’s so beautiful
user i would die for y/n
user nothing could describe the amount of affection i have for this woman omfg
charleslc_updates
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42,077 likes
charleslc_updates Charles and Arthur talking about Y/N L/N (again lol) in a recent interview 👀
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user lmaoooooo relatable
user omg i'm new to f1 but i've always been a y/n stan i'm freaakkkinng out but wdym again??
↳ user lmaooo charles is always trying to bring up y/n
user the leclerc brothers 🥰🥰
user it was so cute to see the both of them in one video
user this man fr blushed AHAH cute
user i get it charles i too have the biggest crush on y/n
↳ user lol literally like get in line dude
↳ user back of the line bucko
user i've never seen a man so down bad for someone he's never met
user y/n what are you doing girl if you don't want him ILL DO IT
user @/yourusername
↳ user LMAO YESSS @/yourusername
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ynupdates
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239,095 likes
ynupdates Y/N opening the 2023 Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld show during Paris Fashion Week.
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user omg she absolutely killed it
user god does she need a dog? i can bark
user i love seeing her thrive
user quick charles this is your chance!!! she’s in paris 😭😭😭 @/charles_leclerc
↳ user lmaooooo not you tagging him but literally though
↳ user no srsly please mr. "i hope our paths cross soon" you don't understand i need this to happen
user yall saw that walk??? ugh y/n the woman that you are
user i don’t get the hype. all she does is walk.
user NAHHHH SHE ATEEE THAT
user i’m so happyyyy 🥺 y/n is so booked and busy she’s really out here doing multiple back to back shows for paris fashion week
↳ user same! it’s crazy that she gets to open and close multiple shows, especially ones like chanel!
user i love that so many people are going to these shows just to see y/n
user i could make this exact dress with my curtains
user if i ever meet her in real life i would die happily
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 5,490,124 others
yourusername rien de mieux que d'etre a la maison [no place like home]
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gigihadid sexy lady
↳ yourusername already missing you
user i keep forgetting she's part french
user you absolutely KILLED those shows
voguemagazine iconic ⭐️
alexademie 🔥🔥
user beautiful girl!!
user omggg charles liking this LOL
↳ user it's actually frustrating me that this man has no game like i'm rooting for you cmon
↳ user lmaooo literally though i'm just hoping he's pulling some strings behind the scenes
anokyai 😍😍😍
user la plus belle fille [the most beautiful girl] *liked by charles_leclerc
↳ user if this is him shooting his shot 😭😭
↳ user lol charles is down so bad he's even going through the comments
user am i just crazy but why are there two drinks in the second post? like is this supposed to be a very soft launch
↳ user it's probably gigi 😭😭 she did comment saying that they were hanging out with each other
↳ user but why not just take a pic of her tho
deuxmoi
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31,844 likes
deuxmoi Y/N L/N & Charles Leclerc spotted hanging out with each other in Paris
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user NO WAY OMG
user i'm actually in disbelief how tf did charles get here
user i knew you could do it charles!!
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
user so are they dating???
user CHARLES FR WINNING RN AHAH
↳ user NO LITERALLYYY HES BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES
↳ user he manifested this 😭
user they look sooo good together
user why does he look so srs
↳ user give my man a break 😩
↳ user well it looks like he’s not your man anymore 😭😭
user omgg this is like a fairytale
user wait i'm kinda obsessed with this
user i’m so invested
kymillman
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201,885 likes
kymillman Y/N AND CHARLES
Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is joined at the track today by top supermodel, Y/N L/N. This is the first time Y/N is with him and she clearly shines in front of the camera.
Her debut at the grid has quickly become a popular topic as fans and drivers alike are intrigued by the presence of one of the most famous women in the world.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com #f1 #formula1 #signedprints #japanesegp #CharlesLeclerc #Y/NL/N
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user SHDJEJ IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL
user mom and dad 😩
user so it’s official???
↳ user i mean this is the hardest launch they could have done other than posting 😭
user i’m a charles fan and even i’m surprised he got her to date him
user i’m rooting for them so much 🥺🥺
user she’s serving though
user i’m watching the race rn and they literally keep talking about y/n being there AHH
↳ user i always forget she’s kind of a big deal
user kym gets on my nerves but this picture is actual gold
user it's so obvious that this is a publicity stunt
↳ user nah but for who? bc i know damn well that neither charles nor y/n need it
↳ user obviously not for them but maybe it's to gather more attention for f1
↳ user girl i need u to listen to urself rn 😭 bc that makes no sense
user idk who charles is and idk what the hell f1 is but best believe i’m tuning in next race just to see y/n
↳ user literally me girl i can’t believe i’m watching cars drive in a circle rn
yn_updates
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91,922 likes
yn_updates Some moments of Y/N being mentioned by drivers during the Formula 1 race
View all 1,061 comments
user i swear it was like every minute i'd hear y/n's name
user the way that all the drivers are aware of charles's long time obsession with y/n LOL
↳ user i just know charles is the type to never shut up about her ahaha
user she's literally THE y/n l/n. i mean if viewers are sky rocketing just by her being there, imagine her impact if she had actively promoted it
↳ user she's so iconic
↳ user no bc i love y/n so much that i just forced myself to watch rich grown men vroom vroom in circles for almost 2 hrs just to catch a glimpse of her
user i'm in love with her life
user LMAOOO THE DRIVERS TEASING CHARLES
user lando's so funny 😭😭
user y/n and f1 stans are being FED today wow
user is it just me or am i kinda annoyed about how often they're bringing her up like my girl can't even support her bf in peace
↳ user yea i'm eating it up but also feeling bad for y/n at the same time. the attention is definitely a double edge sword.
user apparently she was with joris most of the time 🥺
user this is literally straight from a fairy tale i can't
user didn't they just meet like a week ago
↳ user as far as we know they were first spotted together about a month ago by that deuxmoi post. but assuming from y/n and charles's past relationships, i don't think they'd be this comfortable going public without being together for a while
↳ user yea this has definitely been going on longer than we think/have been seeing
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, gigihadid, landonorris and 7,712,083 others
charles_leclerc J'ai toujours su que c'était toi. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ [I've always known it was you. Happy birthday, my love]
View all 34,511 comments
yourusername merci, mon cœur ❤️ [thank you, my heart]
yourusername je suis raide dingue de toi [i'm madly in love with you]
↳ charles_leclerc l'amour de ma vie [the love of my life]
user are we interrupting something...
user i can’t believe it’s already been 6 months since they first went public
user throwing myself down the stairs as we speak
user they don't know it yet but we're actually a throuple
user happy birthday y/n!!!
user in love with their love 🥺
user lmfaoooo i just know charles is on cloud 9 this man literally sees y/n and is blind to everything else
↳ user he's sooo cute, he's like a love sick puppy
user i still think this is a pr relationship
user god i'd die for someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n in that second pic
user this is my roman empire
user i'm so obsessed with them it's insane
user our generation's brad and angelina
↳ user don't say that wtf my parents are never separating
user pls don't ever breakup 😭😭
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