#thank you for waiting 84 years for this

[koumeowkami]

🪐 no celestial ; kanallen

— chapter six

"Kanata was a poor little angel that heaven couldn't help. He'd always been a tough one, not trusting anyone but his little brother Nayuta, the only person that ever made him feel love. Growing up by themselves, he did everything in his power to protect his sick brother, things that dirtied his holy hands. "It's for a good cause though", he thought. But it wasn't enough, and Nayuta died soon after.

Kanata's soul was completely spent. He became unable to feel love, and adding to his dirty dealings that soon were found out, he got cast out of heaven. Fallen on Earth with his wings blackened, he felt so lost and empty he thought he could've just died.

But a random encounter with a very annoying, persistent, stupid redhead human boy would've made him discover love again."

2268 words

genre: supernatural, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

previous ✧ next

Weeks kept going by, as Kanata was slowly getting accustomed to the hectic life of the city. He was learning how things worked there, how humans worked. As he wasn't used to being around people to begin with, living with Suzaku and his friends had never seemed to be appealing to him: actually, it felt absolutely atrocious in the first few days. They were noisy, annoying, and the redhead's friends were constantly nagging the boy to do the dishes, clean his room and stuff like that; although he absolutely hated them for never being quiet, he had to agree his current roommate's bedroom was a literal mess, as there were clothes and records scattered everywhere and his bed was never tidied up, the redhead always in front of that glowing screen making music.

Sometimes he also joined him, creating his own pieces of art coming from his broken heart, thinking that could've helped him ease the pain, at least a little bit. He still thought he deserved to die, but that boy was preventing him to do that without even realizing it: Kanata didn't understand why he wanted to take care of him so bad, always trying to look through him with those red eyes burning with passion, with life. The angel just thought he pitied him like everyone else would and he hated it, but still... his heart was getting warmer and warmer each day, to the point it hurt, beating so loud in his chest that he could hear it in his own ears; he always had to put his hand on it to shut it up.

Thankfully, the trio wasn't always home, as they were busy with their studies and their Hip-hop career: whenever one of those days came, Kanata would just spend his time chilling on the bed, looking at the ceiling and reminiscing about good memories with Nayuta; when the thoughts would start getting grim, he'd just compose music by himself, letting himself and his unspoken words free through the notes. He never really thought about going out, almost considering that apartment like some safe haven, and they wouldn't let him go take a walk by himself anyways, since he didn't know where to go.

Until one afternoon.

Kanata really thought he needed some fresh air, being the little stray cat he was: he felt safe in there, but suffocated. Those humans probably underestimated him, who had wandered through the streets ever since he was small. He put his sneakers on and left with soft steps.

The streets weren't particularly crowded there, as it was mostly a residential area with just a few convenience stores here and there. He sighed softly, enjoying the breeze and silence under the setting sun, while sipping on a cheap drink he had bought with the pocket money the trio gave him. He had said multiple times he didn't want that, already grateful enough they gave him a roof to live under, but they were just too stubborn and handed him some anyways. Just in case.

"Ugh, these rich snots... they just keep treating me like a kid" he said to himself, while crushing the can with his hand.

He walked around for a while, until he stopped by an almost empty square, finding it the perfect place to rest before going home. He noticed a group of boys not too far from him hanging out but he didn't care about them, sitting on the opposite side and closing his eyes to enjoy the quietude.

Only for a while.

"Hey, little bastard over there! Ya hear me?"

Fucking hell. He knew something was going to go wrong. He just opened one eye, looking towards the little gang with no interest whatsoever for a mere second, then closing it again.

"What, are you deaf?! I'm talkin' to you!" Kanata felt one of the guys, probably the leader, coming towards him. He sighed, already pissed off that someone was bothering him on such a nice day. He fully turned to him, looking at him straight in the eye while still sitting: "What."

The thugs laughed upon that question, trying to intimidate him. "Don't ya know this is our place? You're not invited. Get the fuck outta here" the leader spoke again, acting all high and mighty. The way they were trying to scare him away was annoying Kanata so much. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into, but he still did his best to keep his calm and avoid sending them flying. It wasn't worth it.

"Tsk... annoyin'."

Rolling his eyes, he got up. He wasn't planning to back off, having gotten himself into these kinds of situations many times before, in Heaven. He wasn't scared of them at all, no matter how tall and big they were.

"Ya wanna get your pretty face smashed?" the leader snickers, cracking his knuckles, "You're gonna get really hurt... weakling."

That single word grinded Kanata's gears, as he remembered all the abuse, all the pain he and his brother had received during their childhood from those shitty adults who only cared about showing them who was more powerful between them. "Don't you... fuckin' call me that..." he eyed the gang with an icy cold stare, growling and slowly making a fist, ready to punch that fucker. He was trying so hard to keep his anger at bay, but he felt his sanity go away more and more. His mind told him to stop, but his heart... his heart only saw red.

"Aw, Shortie is gonna cry! So cute!" the gang said, mocking him. They got closer and closer, eventually enclosing themselves around him. This was too much. Kanata suddenly felt something rising from deep inside of him, a weird energy fueling his feelings. He was so close to snapping, when his demeanor suddenly changed.

"Y'all better not want to fuck with me."

A voice octaves lower than his usual left his mouth, his once moonlight and galaxy colored hair and eyes were completely black, and a shadow of his black wings was visible on the ground. He had no idea what was going on but he didn't stop, he couldn't resist that. The snake had spilled its venom right into his veins and it felt so damn good.

The thugs immediately backed out as their faces turned pale from the panic. They ran away, muffled curses and screaming heard in the background. By the time the sun was entirely set, Kanata was back to normal, panting hard. He wanted to make sense of what came over him, but he couldn't think at all: he was feeling exhausted and his head was spinning, his body feeling almost feverish. He fainted, falling on the ground of that now deserted square.

"Aaah, I finally got it! This limited edition record was so hard to find!!" Allen was excitedly running down the streets, over the moon after yet another too pricey purchase. He was probably being a bit too hyper about it and people were definitely side-eyeing him but he didn't care, as he hugged the vinyl close to his chest. "Anne and Hajun are getting home later today, so I'll be listening to it with Kanata... I'm so excited about it! He's gonna love it!" he said, immediately smiling at the thought. He was a tough and unfriendly guy, but Allen was so happy to see him getting more and more passionate about Hip-hop every day: he knew about the healing powers of music, and Kanata did seem more peaceful when making music, or simply listening to it. He was glad he could help that boy, even if he still didn't know what happened to him to get to that point; Allen really wanted to know, but he'd be waiting for the other to speak up. He was doing his best to turn into a reliable and trustworthy friend for him, simply showing him that he was ready to listen.

Too immersed into his own thoughts, he didn't realize he took a different route, ending up in a place so emptied of people that almost looked abandoned. He looked around for a bit, trying to recognize where he was, until he saw a familiar boy laying on the ground slightly far from him. White long locks and a snake decorated jacket. He dropped his bag.

"Kanata!!"

Panting, Allen finally reached their apartment with the boy in his arms. He had already checked if his heart was beating, but he just couldn't calm down: he wondered what happened, for how long he'd been laying there like that. He carefully placed him on the couch and took a chair to sit next to him. He couldn't leave him alone, his mind occupied by any possible bad thought about this entire situation. He touched Kanata's forehead and it was burning hot, compared to how cold his body is usually. "Does he have a fever...?" he mumbled, preparing a wet cloth to place there and then he just sat, waiting.

Anxiety was devouring him more each second that passed, until he saw the boy's body trembling. He tossed and turned, groaning in pain. Allen was getting even more worried when he noticed a weird dark glow around Kanata, who was now blabbering frantically.

"I wish... I could be as pure as you were..."

The redhead rubbed his eyes, wondering if this was real, but he was left even more confused when he came to the conclusion that it was really happening. He didn't move one inch from there, though. He wasn't afraid of him.

"Who are you, Kanata...?"

With a gasp, Kanata opened his eyes again, seemingly back to normal. He immediately sat, scanning his surroundings and finding the other boy giving him a small, reassuring smile, although at the same time he looked like he really wanted, no, needed answers. He couldn't even look at him anymore, as a part of him felt guilty for not telling him sooner. What was he even going to say, now? Suzaku was a mere human. He would've never accepted that he was a celestial creature, right? He looked at his lap in thought, still avoiding those fire colored eyes.

"I'm not gonna ask what happened" the other guy started, his voice soft, "but just know that I'm here and I'm ready to listen to you, your story... anything."

Kanata felt horrible. He really had to come clean, no matter the outcome; he knew he'd be back to being alone in the streets right after this conversation, but he thought he couldn't lie to the redhead. He'd been too good to the angel. Maybe it was for the better, he pondered: after that, he'd finally be able to die as he originally had planned. So he took a deep breath, turning to the guy, looking at him straight in the eye.

"I... I'm a fallen angel."

Black wings appeared behind him, big and majestic. Suzaku was shocked, but still stood there, not looking intimidated at all. Instead, he got closer to him, looking at him in adoration.

"You're so pretty..." the redhead whispered to him, and Kanata felt his stare falter, dropping his gaze somewhere else as he blushed. The wings disappeared. His heart was a mess, again feeling like a bomb about to explode. That guy always managed to make things more complicated, as Kanata kept feeling things in his chest that both hurt and made him feel good.

"You... you should be scared of me..." the angel said, getting up from the couch and moving away from him to try to hide himself from the other boy, "I'm not some stupid human! How can you act like this is okay?!"

He saw Suzaku looking at him with a soft gaze as he smiled, "Man, this sure is new to me" he said as he also got up and reached the angel, "But I'm not afraid of you... I know you're not evil so I don't have to worry."

"You're unbelievably foolish." Kanata replied, astounded by how stupid and accepting the other was. He knew at this point he couldn't do anything to intimidate that guy anymore, as he really had no ill intentions after all. He just audibly sighed.

"I'm fallen, ya hear me? I can fuck you up."

"I'll keep that in mind, then."

The guy let out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head. And then, he suddenly got serious, looking at Kanata with a worried expression.

"Um, Kanata..." he took a breath before continuing, "Back when you were dreaming, it seemed like... you were in an unimaginable amount of pain. The same pain I felt in the first song you made. I wonder if I can help you..."

"There's nothin' a human like you can fix." Kanata stopped him, not wanting to hear a single word more. He knew that warmth spreading in his chest when he was with the redhead was only temporary. That boy couldn't fix such a damaged heart.

The other muttered a "I'm sorry" before going back to his usual self. But before Suzaku was able to speak again, a black smoke with hints of orange appeared in a dark corner of the living room, floating. As the two boys turned around, a voice crept in.

"Oh boy, what kinda mess are you causin' over here?~"

Kanata's eyes widened. He knew that voice too well. That demon had been helping the twins a long time ago, he didn't really think he would get to hear nor see him ever again.

"Suiseki-san... what are you doing here?"

#🪐; no celestial #paradox live #paralive #kanallen #allenkana #allen sugasano #kanata yatonokami #paradox live fanfiction #it's been 84 years ...... i'm finally back !! #it's shocking revelations time (that don't have an explanation yet but. soon) #i hope you guys enjoy and pls lmk your thoughts with rbs and asks 💜 thank you for waiting hehe #(gonna publish this on ao3 asap i prommy)

[kyouka-supremacy]

I really hope season 4 gets to Akutagawa's death I don't care let's rip the bandaid off

#If it doesn't I'll have to wait what ten more years? No thanks #ryūnosuke akutagawa #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd ch 84-88 #bsd s4 #mine #q. #I mean I already know they'll ruin it- sskk anime scenes are always underwhelming compared to the manga but maybe. #maybe the dubbed “you damn fool // hurry up and go” will have the exact perfect amount of softness I imagine it having #Edit from 28/07/2022: Just remembered the saying goes “rip the BAND-AID off” lol #Dazai-induced brain dysfunction #I'll keep it that way though it's funny

[loisroo]

8 shows to get to know me

i was tagged by @tiffanylamps forever ago (sorry 🤦🏼‍♀️) and more recently by @evil-moonlight (thank you my beloved evil 🖤🖤).

btw none of these are in order because i can’t choose favorites and most of them are recent shows that I’ve watched and not all my favorites over the years.

1. the untamed — y’all i’m a basic bitch and i wish I could say i loved this for wwx and lwj relationship, the darkness and the sacrifice, the pain that comes with being known, the grief of losing the one you hold dear and all the wonderful, wonderful things this show is about… but in reality it’s because of this idiot:

2. beyond evil — this show has consumed me for like two years now and i’m still writing fic for it and I watch it multiple times. the plot is amazing, the actors are phenomenal, the writer and director are both women. they care about the victims on this show and allow vulnerability to exist while also keeping you at the edge of your seat and so fucking confused. the characters are dynamic and nuanced and so very real, it makes you feel for them so much. but if I’m staying honest then it’s mostly because of these two idiots being in love:

3. we are lady parts— i didn’t even know i needed this show until i watched it. it’s so fucking punk, the whole show just oozes pink vibes and the music ughhhhhhhh. i’m neither muslim nor from the united kingdom but i resonated so fucking hard with aspects of the characters and fell in with the whole show. it’s empowering and fun, i highly recommend this to everyone.

4. what we do in the shadows (wwdits) — this show is just… one of the best comedies ever. the writing, the acting, the character development…. this show might honestly be one of the best i’ve ever seen even outside of the comedy genre. it’s so much more then it actually leads you to believe at first. plus the gay, can’t forget about the gay because literally the whole show is queer and i love it. and the plus sized rep is also super wonderful!

5. good omens — i recommend this show to everyone because it’s wonderful in so many ways, and the two leads are just *chef’s kiss* but i also love this show so much because it was written by my brother’s favorite author (@neil-gaiman) and he loved this book (and american gods) so much, he talked about it constantly. now that he’s gone whenever i watch it, i feel closer to him and connected to him, it’s a really nice way to handle my grief sometimes. plus i know he’d be pissed that he missed the show too. lol

6. ted lasso — this show was super surprising for me, i don’t mind watching sports and some games but I was like 10 episodes about sports? Mmmmm maybe not. but then my sister begged and begged for me to watch it so i did. it’s second to wwdits with comedy but this show has the healthiest characters, the greatest character developments, they call out toxic masculinity and sexist ideals, and it’s so heartwarming. i rarely stop smiling while watching it, top notch writing and top notch acting.

7. derry girls — i struggle to pinpoint the exact reason i adore this show so much. maybe it’s the teenagers that act like actual teenager, or the inclusion of parents in the story line without them being dumb or the main characters or ignore their children. maybe it’s because they are a light in a dark time, living through something awful and scary while still trying to live their lives. maybe it’s the wonderful characters that make you smile and laugh… maybe it’s sister george michael.

8. the equalizer — i fucking love queen latifah. she is awesome as the man badass lead in this, she’s smart and resourceful and she uses that to help people in her community and make things right when the law falls short. most of the main cast are black women and a lot of the guests and secondary characters are also people of color and women. ohh also gay auntie saw whatttttttttttttttt. i know this show doesn’t get the greatest overall ratings and people really judge it often but it’s a show about the injustices in the world with a dynamic and diverse cast, I really really love watching it.

thanks for the tags! 🖤 no pressure tags: @killerandhealerqueen @l-tyrell @tardis--dreams @ah-ragehappy @cafedecanela @magicaldreamfox1

#8 shows to get to know me #tag game #thank you for tagging me and also thank you for waiting 84 years until I responded lol

[katyspersonal]

Valtr & 1 for the ask meme? 👀

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

1) What would their social media page/activity be like

Hahah! Tbh I did make a post about Twitter accounts for Bloodborne characters here ( x ) a while ago, but looking back on it, Valtr's was not very accurate? So here is the new drill:

Instead, Valtr's account is locked only to people whom he gives the password to! It would work well as a Tumblr blog, but I do not have a specific media in mind. But yeah, either 1) you approach him yourself by seeing his comment somewhere or 2) he deems you worthy by observing you and sends you a DM like HEY KID WANNA HELP FOR THE COMMON GOOD?

And then the only other members allowed in that blog are Henryk and Madaras Twin, several deactivated accounts, and Yamamura account that last posted several years ago ;-; The blog itself is just posts from Valtr of leaked Discord messages, rips from Twitch streams, copies of deleted videos and various other evidences of this or that "harmful" person. Basically, an exchange of who to seek with other blog members in order to doxx them and neutralise them. :) fun.

There are also occasional posts with Valtr giving heart-warming encouraging speech to other blog members for keeping up the good job and congratulations with holidays when they come. But yes, he'd not be interested in having a personal page. I think this is more accurate reflection of his character moved onto internet antics!

#bloodborne #valtr master of the league #ask replies #thanks for ask! #again: valtr is not a person i'd particularly like to encounter in real life.. #like.... #even if people he and his friends are tracking ARE bad this behavior gives me chills ;-; #also guys you can't even imagine how hefty asks i've got #it will take me some time to get to so many haha..... #i got 0 for Izzy tho HELL YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES #I'VE WAITED FOR IT FOR 84 YEARS #bloodborne headcanons

[rosyblooom]

chicken shop date | cl16 smau

pairing: charles leclerc x fem youtuber!reader

summary: y/n hosts a popular youtube channel where she invites various celebrities to have a 'chicken shop date'. in this upcoming episode, she welcomes famous formula 1 driver, charles leclerc.

a/n: all my love to amelia, i love her vids🫶🫶 also, pls lmk what u think :)

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading! thank uu!! :)

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯

21st of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: red 4 🏎️🏎️🏎️ ]

[ caption: chicken shop date out on saturday!!! xx ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: aussie aussie aussie 🦘 ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 137,923 others

yourusername i love you australia xx

view all 4,831 comments

yourbfusername third pic 👀👀

yourusername 🤫 username that's suspicious...

username ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

username flying across the globe for a chicken shop date??? oh this is serious guys

username nah she's just rich lol username i'll be sad if they're just playing in our faces

username y/n becoming a ferrari girl was NOT on my bingo cards😀

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourusername 🥰🥰 username so the plot thickens username love u charlie🫶🫶

username y/n don't play with me rn. are you dating charles or nah

(liked by author)

username girl it's been 84 years we are tired of the games😭 username 'liked by author' WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

landonorris here for mclaren i'm hoping

yourusername i- sure! username oooh it's the lying for me miss

22nd of March, 2024

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 8,239 others

f1gossipofficial After arriving in Australia last night and posting a picture hugging who fans believe to be Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N made her F1 debut this morning during the practice sessions.

She and Charles appeared to be very close, only further fuelling the dating rumours that have been circulating the internet for the past month. As of yet, however, neither of the pair has confirmed nor denied the ongoing rumours.

view all 273 comments

username bruh how hard is a "we're dating/we're not dating."😑

username lmao are you ok?? they don't owe us anything

username Y/N as an f1 wag???? OH HOW I USED TO PRAY FOR THESE TIMES

username aw she's so pretty

username a chicken shop date episode with charles is dropping tmrw so i think it's all pretend

username oh yeahhhh I almost forgot username but travelling all across the world for that seems a little excessive? she's literally already super successful ygm username pretending for over 4 weeks is nasty work😫

username did anyone see the way he looks at her though????😍

username RIGHT?? THEYRE SO CUTE OMG😭

23rd of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: this is more like it 😌 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Lucky charm secured ❤️ ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 277,004 others

yourusername chicken shop date with @charles_leclerc OUT NOW!! hope it's an uncomfortable watch xx

view all 4,992 comments

username 10/10 awkwardness, I had to pause multiple times. truly hated it, keep posting more!

yourusername thank u thank u. will do🫡 username loool Y/N ilysm

username Y/N ARE YALL DATING OR NAH??? IM SO CONFUSED

username u and me both😭😭 username idc if it's delusional i'm just gonna pretend they are🥰🥰 username ignorance is bliss babe✨😌

yourbfusername wait you guys are lowkey cute🧐

yourusername *highkey username OMG IS THIS A CONFIRMATION??? WE WONNNN username just fell to my knees in tesco pls don't be joking Y/N😭

charles_leclerc Avez-vous déjà pratiqué votre français ? (have you even been practising your french?)

yourusername oui oui 😌 username she's actually got it lmaoo who would've thought💀

username LMAO Y/N not "what are we?" why are you like this💀💀

username that's so real of her tbh

2:35 ───ㅇ───────── 7:55

The YouTube video begins with a series of clips showing Y/N and Charles laughing, with intermittent shots of Y/N looking directly at the screen. The familiar tune of Y/N's 'chicken shop date' videos begins as stop-motion hearts flutter across the screen, transitioning smoothly to a scene featuring two dolls seated in a miniature chicken shop date setting, seamlessly leading into the main content of the video.

"Charles Leclerc," Y/N warmly greets, resting her elbows on the table. "Welcome to our date."

Charles responds with a smile, settling back in his seat and gesturing around. "Y/N Y/LN, thank you. I'm very happy to be on our first date... here... with all these cameras," he remarks jokingly.

Y/N narrows her eyes slightly, briefly glancing around before refocusing on Charles with a hum. "I'm not sure what you're implying. This location is a solid 10 out of 10," she says, gesturing to their surroundings. "Besides, do you see the chicken?" she adds, plucking a single fry from her meal box and waving it in the air, awaiting his response.

"You mean the fry?" Charles chuckles, pointing. "That's not chicken."

Y/N takes a bite of the fry, pausing to swallow before clearing her throat. "I'm aware," she says with a dramatic tilt of her head and a tight-lipped smile. "I just grabbed it because I fancied a fry." 

"But anyway," she continues, circling back to the initial question, "do... you... see... the... chicken?" Sensing his hesitation, she places her hands firmly on the table. "Look at me. It's a simple yes or no, Charles."

"Well, actually, it's yes or yes," she corrects herself with two affirmative nods, before redirecting her attention back to him.

Charles responds with a smile, though his expression betrays his confusion, evident in the different angles of his raised eyebrows. "Yes, I see it, Y/N."

"And do you taste it?" Y/N asks slowly.

"I haven't yet..."

"So, what are you waiting for?" she claps her hands together, motioning towards the untouched box of food in front of him. "Don't be shy now."

Charles chuckles as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, rummaging through the food before pulling out a chicken nugget. As he dips the piece in some ketchup, his eyes meet Y/N's once more, her wide-eyed nod urging him on.

"Go on."

"Okay, okay," he says, taking a bite. "Mmm," he nods, almost as if someone were holding a gun to his head, compelling him to do so.

"Oh," Y/N purses her lips and shakes her head, "I don't like it when people make noises while eating."

"Uh," Charles swallows and chuckles, "sorry?"

Y/N shrugs. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Anyway," she inhales deeply, "what do you think? That's some good chicken, right?"

"Yeah, actually, it is really good," Charles nods as he speaks.

Suddenly, the video cuts to a staff member in chicken shop attire standing behind the counter, wearing a smile while staring at the camera, unmoving.

Then, the video returns to Charles and Y/N.

As Charles takes another bite of his chicken nugget, Y/N casually asks, "Do you think our children will like chicken?"

Coughing sounds interrupt as Charles drops his chicken into the box, knocking his fist against his chest until the sound clears. His voice croaks as he speaks, his brows furrowing, "Our children? We're talking about children already?"

Y/N's composure cracks slightly as she chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction, and observes him reaching for a glass of water, taking large gulps. However, she quickly regains control, shrugging nonchalantly before continuing, "Well, yeah. I don't know about you, but I date for marriage—I want a little family of my own someday. Don't you?"

Charles rubs his eyebrows and places the glass back on the table. "Yes, I do want to have a family one day. But this feels like it's moving very fast, don't you think?"

Y/N shakes her head. "Not at all. To be honest, I want one boy and one girl. What about you?"

At Y/N's continued forwardness, Charles releases a laugh, visibly bewildered, before scratching at his beard in deep thought. Propping up his elbows on the table, he finally responds, "I think I want a boy."

"—And a girl," Y/N interjects, smiling expectantly.

Charles blurts out a laugh, clearly taken aback, before nodding. "Yeah, a girl too. I don't really mind."

"Great, so we're on the same page then."

The video cuts off again, this time to the entrance of the chicken shop, slowly panning into the empty and bright interior with multiple tables and chairs. The camera stops on the large menu, featuring pictures of chicken and fries, lingering for a few moments before cutting back to Charles and Y/N. 

However, this time Y/N is holding a piece of paper in front of her.

"So, I hear you're French?" Y/N glances up at Charles, noticing the grimace on his face. Quickly realising her mistake, she corrects herself, "Oh, hold on, no wait, don't kill me please. You speak French, but you're from Monaco—you don't claim France at all."

Charles laughs and nods in agreement. "Correct. I am Monegasque. Those are separate countries, yes."

Y/N purses her lips, her eyes flickering from side to side. "I know, I literally just said that." Clicking her tongue, she exhales a long breath and continues, "Anyway, what a coincidence. I'm actually trying to learn French."

Something flashes in Charles' eyes as he suddenly leans forward in his chair, his expression filled with keen interest. "Oh wow, tu l'es ? Comment vas-tu ?" (translation: "Oh wow, you are? How are you?")

Y/N freezes, her mouth parted slightly in a half-smile. For a moment, she just stares, clearly startled, before scratching the back of her neck and humming deep in thought. "Oh, okay, straight into the deep end, huh?" she chuckles and then blurts out, "Oui, oui?"

Charles tosses his head back, laughing, while Y/N folds her hands together, waiting expressionless for his laughter to subside. When he finally regains his composure, his eyes back on Y/N, she says, "Great, thanks."

"I'm sorry," Charles waves his hand in the air, "I just thought you'd know the basics already. My mistake."

Y/N narrows her gaze at him for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Well, that's what I've got you here for." Clearing her throat, she tilts her gaze down at the paper and asks, "Let's start easy, shall we? I'm going to give you a few sentences in French, and you translate them back to me in English."

Charles furrows his brows. "Wouldn't it make more sense the other way around?"

"What can I say, I'm special," she shrugs, "I actually learn better this way."

"Ah, of course you are."

"Alright. Je t'aime."

"I love you," says Charles.

Y/N places her hand across her chest. "Aw, Charles. Dropping the L-bomb already, are we?"

Charles drags his teeth across his lower lip while shaking his head. "Next one, please."

“Veux-tu m'épouser?" (translation: "Will you marry me?")

Charles tilts his head sideways, an amused expression spreading across his face. “Seriously?”

Y/N clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “No, that doesn’t quite sound right. I think you might need to brush up on your French, Charles, because I’m pretty sure ‘Veux-tu m'épouser’ does not mean ‘seriously.’”

Exhaling a long breath, she rotates in her seat and straightens up. “Don’t worry though, I’ll give you another chance.”

Charles rolls his eyes playfully before releasing a whistle. Rubbing his hands together, he begins, “Will you marry me. That’s what it mea—”

“Charles!” Y/N's jaw drops as she interrupts him. “Well, I’m a hot commodity, you know? But I want to know, how would our marriage work? I mean, how long are you planning on racing, anyway?”

Charles smiles, slumping into his seat as he reaches for a fry and tosses it into his mouth. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I love racing and I want to be a world champion, so we’ll just have to see how long that takes.”

“You want to be a world champion, yet you extended your contract with Ferrari?” Y/N's brows furrow inquisitively. “That’s an interesting choice.”

A couple of chuckles escape Charles as he runs his hand up and down his neck, his gaze fixed on the half-empty box of food before him. After a moment's pause, he replies with a casual shrug, “They're like family to me. And honestly, when I see myself winning, it’s always with the Ferrari team by my side.”

“Fair enough,” Y/N exhales, her eyes widening as she claps her hands together. “I suppose I'll have to stock up on red outfits.”

Noticing Charles’ puzzled expression, Y/N theatrically rolls her eyes before explaining, “For our next date, silly. I’ll be your lucky charm, and then you can finally start winning and have a real shot at the World Championship.”

“Wow, how nice of you, Y/N,” Charles responds with a lazy smile. “Merci.”

“Oooh,” Y/N points at him, nodding in satisfaction, “I know that one. You’re welcome…”

“…Boyfriend?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “What—what are we?”

He ponders for a moment, swaying slightly from side to side, then relents, “Okay, sure… girlfriend.”

The video cuts to the outro, displaying various polaroids of Y/N flashing by, accompanied by a text reading, ‘If you enjoyed the video, please don’t forget to like and subscribe for more! xx’.

24th of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: early day😴😴 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 4,723 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc have been spotted entering the Paddock together. Numerous sources have also confirmed seeing them exchange a few kisses.

As always, wishing the drivers all the best for today's race!

view all 269 comments

username oh we're so on

username the world is healing

username who would've thought being awkward is how to pull charles leclerc💀

username ig this means we all have a chance username lmaooo i need u to be so fr

username ugh I don't see the hype?? that video made me so uncomfortable, she's such a weirdo

username nobody cares bruh

username mhm iktr😌 we love to see it

f1

liked by yourusername, carlossaiz55, username and 324,076 others

f1 Carlando back on the podium together! Congrats to Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc on their wins! Huge accomplishments!

#F1 #Formula1 #AusGP

view all 248 comments

username CARLANDO LETS GOOOOOO

username aw they all deserved it I'm so happy for them😭🫶

username carlos the man that you are❤️

yourusername 🥳👏

username seeing Y/N become an actual f1 girl🤧 username please treat charles well for us🥹

username lfg 💪

yourusername

liked by yourbfusername, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 263,014 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername as the french say 'soo la voo' or whatever xxx

view all 5902 comments

charles_leclerc close enough🤣

yourusername je t'aime ❤️ username OMGG??????? AHHH KICKING MY FEET🥰 username wow we've literally gone full circle🤧 username he fell first she fell harder tease🥹

username NOOOO CHARLIE NOT HER :(

username girl shut up

yourbfusername lool cuties <33

yourusername bby 🫶

username is- is this what it feels like to win?😭❤️❤️

7:35 ───────────ㅇ─ 7:55

hope u enjoyed! thoughts are appreciated! <3

#f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #f1 imagine #cl16 x you #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles x y/n #charles x you #charles leclerc fanfic #smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 instagram au #fanfic #f1 fic #charles x reader #cl16 fic #f1 scenario #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc one shot #formula 1 x you

[reiding-writing]

Hey Red! I really enjoyed all of your writings especially because I am also a sucker for angst and hurt/comfort fic. Anyway, can I request fic about post-prison Spencer x reader (romantic) where the reader is the one who distanced herself from Spencer because after the first time Spencer released from prison, he doesn't want to touch anyone? Bet he'll be so heartbroken and thinking that she's over their relationship. Thank you! Sorry if it's too specific ❤️

distance [ s.r ]

Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions

WARNINGS: miscommunication, established relationship

pairing: post-prison!spencer x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending

wc: 1.6k

masterlist!!

a/n: gave this one a happy ending as an apology for transgression-

You waited for 84 days to see him again; And yet now he’s stood here in front of you you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him.

He’s thinner than you remember. His cheekbones show more prominently. He has stubble lining his chin. His hair is more unruly. His eyes don’t shine anymore.

Spencer changed in those 84 days, and the second you caught his eyes a hairline fracture formed in your heart.

Gone was the Spencer who would light up at the most insignificant thing. Gone was the Spencer who would look at you with those sweet innocent eyes that would make you weak at the knees. Gone was the Spencer who would link his pinky finger in yours so that he could anchor himself to you no matter where you were.

Gone was the Spencer you knew.

Your Spencer didn’t exist anymore.

You watched as he swerved a hug from Morgan as he entered the office, clasping both of his hands behind his back with an awkward smile as he walked through the bullpen towards you were standing in front of his desk, eerily resembling the 23 year old Spencer who avoided everyone like they had the plague.

“Hey Spence…” Your voice is a lot more breathless than you thought it’d be, only amplified as you look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that you’d dreamed about being able to look into again for the past three months. “..How are you?”

It’s a completely unnecessary question Spencer thinks, it makes it sound like you’re just his co-worker and not the love of his life.

“I’m alright…” His eyebrows twitch when you take a few steps away from his desk as he nears you, like you can’t bear to be too close.

Then again, he probably looks like hell, so he can’t entirely blame you.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“That’s good,” You press your lips into a line, nodding softly with your eyes flickering everywhere except his face. He’d been gone for 84 days, but you were treating him like you’d never met.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee-” You point lamely towards the kitchenette with your thumb, sliding past him to walk towards it as he watched you leave, eyes burning into the back of your head.

It was a weird feeling to say the least. You were ecstatic that he was home, that you could finally see his beautiful face again and know that he wasn’t suffering in a prison cell. But you weren’t sure how to express that. Whether you should express that.

You fumble with the coffee machine as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Everything about Spencer’s body language when he entered the office told you he wanted space, and you wanted to respect that.

You understood that he’d definitely been through a lot over the past few months and that he wanted time to collect himself before he let anybody else back in; But the way he looked at you when you moved away from him made you unsure. Did he want to be left alone? Did he actually want you to suffocate him with a hug like you were originally planning on doing?

You weren’t sure. And that was the worst part, because depending on which option you chose you could unintentionally swerve things into being worse than they already were.

You chose the safe option. Let him come to you. Leave him be and allow him to choose what he wanted.

He didn’t approach you for a few days, and you figured that meant your decision was correct, that he truly did just want some space to gain his bearings again and allow himself the downtime to focus on himself before anyone else.

You were wrong.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Spencer caught you right as you left the office, stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevator with an exhausted expression on your face after working for almost 10 straight hours.

You do nothing more than blink in his direction at his question, exhaustion morphing into confusion once your eyes catch him expression.

You could see his own tiredness echoed through the bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped at his sides, but you could also see a flicker of hurt floating around in his gaze, seemingly amplified under the white florescents as if to torture you.

“I’m- not avoiding you Spencer,”

“Yes you are.” His tone is rigid, a stark difference from the soft and whispered tone you’d grown used to with him. It felt like having a bucket of ice water poured over your head, and as if to physically acknowledge that feeling, a shudder ran its way up your spine and into the base of your skull. “Every time I’m within ten feet of you, you make an excuse to leave.”

You can’t really argue with him there. You had been keeping your distance. But only because you thought that’s what Spencer wanted.

“Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Am I too broken for you now?”

“What- No-” Your confusion turns into shock at his accusations, and you immediately shake your head in denial.

“Then why are you treating me like a stranger you’ve never met?” His tone borders between angry and upset, and you can see the start of tears forming in his eyes as he stares at you like you’d just ripped up a first-edition copy of his favourite book.

“I waited for the day i’d finally be able to see you again and now you’re acting like I never existed in your mind at all.” You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to stop it from cracking under his emotions.

“Spence-”

“Have you moved on? You found someone better for you right?”

“Spencer-”

“I hope he makes you happy-”

He barely has time to get out the last sentence as you give a sharp tug on his tie and pull his face down to yours, effectively silencing all of his insecurities with a kiss. It’s soft but firm, and slightly salty. He must’ve started crying.

“I love you Spencer.” Your words hold no room for debate as your lips part from his, connection maintained through the way your foreheads press together.

“But you- Why did you- I thought…” His mind seems to run a thousand miles a minute as he stares at you, finally close enough to see the details of your face that nobody else had the privilege to know. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”

“Spence…” You shake your head as it rests against his, a firm denial of his doubt in your complete and utter adoration of him.

“But you kept moving away from me whenever i’d try to come over to you,” He speaks through stuttered breaths, his eyes squeezed shut to hopefully stop the tears that assault his cheeks, running hot down his skin and pooling underneath the curve of his chin.

“I just thought you wanted space baby,” Your thumbs move deftly over his cheeks, wiping away the streaks of tears and taking Spencer’s insecurity with them. “I saw you dodging everyone’s advances and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,”

“I don’t want space from you,” When he opens his eyes again, they’re big, round, and still glistening with the moisture of his tears. But most of all they’re filled with nothing but pure affection for you. “I never want space from you…”

You sure that if you keep eye contact with him for much longer that you’ll start crying yourself, so you redirect his head to lie against your shoulder as you wrap your arms tight around his torso.

“I missed you…” His voice is so quiet that if you weren’t holding him in your arms you wouldn’t have heard it.

“I missed you too Spence,” Your head rests against his, you hand rubbing soft lines up and down his spine over his shirt as he soaks in all the affection he’s missed over the last three months.

“Can I stay at yours tonight? Please?” His gaze is enough of a ‘please’ in itself, but the way his voice drops to almost a whisper when he adds the plea onto the end of his question makes it impossible for you to deny him. Although it’s not like you were going to in the first place.

“Of course you can Spence,” You place a kiss to his left temple as you carefully break the hug, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the elevator. “Lets go home,”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

[7ndipity]

Connected

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Joon loves the way you take care of him and wants to be as close to you as possible.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, not proofread

A/N: She finally wrote another drabble! It only took 84 years!🙃(I know it was only like a month, but it was pissing me off) A big thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! Sorry it took me a while to get to, I hope you’ll still like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The late evening light that filtered through the bedroom curtains was just bright enough for you to make out Namjoon’s features as you lay against his chest, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.

Two weeks apart hadn’t really seemed that long of a time until you were back in his arms, and suddenly it was like he hadn’t felt you in months. The cozy dinner you had planned together had long been forgotten, finding a far more fulfilling reunion instead in feverish touches and strangled cries of each other's names.

It might not have been the exact way you planned for the night to go, but as you looked up at him in the cool glow of midnight, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect evening.

“You okay?” You asked softly, noticing the still unsteady pace of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“Yeah, that was…” He let out a deep breath. “I needed that.”

You caught the thin strain in his voice, the tone you knew he used when he was stressed but trying to hide it.

“Rough week?” You asked, reaching up to comb your fingers through his messy hair.

“Mhm.” He hummed, closing his eyes, leaning into your touch.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” He laughed humorlessly. “Honestly, I’m so fucking tired, I don’t even wanna think right now,” He pulled you closer, letting his lips brush against yours as he spoke.”Just wanna be here with you.”

You connected your lips with his, parting them at the faintest probing of his tongue to grant him access to lazily explore your mouth.

As you rubbed his shoulders soothingly, he couldn’t help wincing into the kiss as you passed over a particularly sensitive spot.

Feeling him flinch, you pulled away, looking up at him with concern.

“Is something wrong?” You asked.

“I just twinged my shoulder earlier, it’s fine.” He said quickly, trying to brush it off.

“You want me to give you a massage? It might help?” You offered.

“I’ll be fine.” He tried again, leaning in to claim your lips once again, but you weren’t having it, dodging his lips and sitting up on your knees.

“Sit up.” You said, tugging his arm.

“Babe, I’m fine, really.” He argued, following your request anyway.

“Yes, but you could feel even better,” You said stubbornly. “Now let me take care of you.”

He sighed, caving easily to you. “Fine, but I want you here.” He patted his lap.

You straddled his lap without argument, letting him hold onto your hips out of habit, and giving him a quick peck on the lips before setting to work, trying to gently knead out the tension and soreness in his shoulder without causing him any more pain in the process.

You weren’t an expert by any means, but whatever you were doing seemed to feel good at least, earning soft, appreciative grunts from Joon as he let his head droop forward to rest against your chest.

You were always so good to him, so ready and willing to take care of him in any shape or form, whether that was making sure he slept and ate properly, or letting him use your body for his own pleasure. Even now, when normally he would be fussing over making sure you were okay, you managed to look after him as well.

He’d never felt so completely safe in someone’s arms before, so completely loved. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve you, but he was beyond thankful to whatever forces had led him to you.

Tilting his head up, he started peppering soft, lingering kisses across the expanse of your neck, sucking lightly at the still blooming marks left over from his earlier ministrations, making you squirm as his grip on your hips tightened.

“Joon.” You whined, feeling the growing weight of his hardening length against your core.

“Hmm?” He hummed, still focused on trailing kisses along your neck.

“I thought you were tired.” You said.

“Who said that?” He said, smirking against your neck.

“You did! Five minutes ago.” You giggled

“That was five minutes ago,” He said, coming back up to your lips. “You were right, I’m feeling much better now.”

He kissed you deeply, rolling you both over so that you were now caged in under him, your legs falling open naturally for him to settle between as his lips trailed down your front.

He loved you like this, all spread out and willing, any trace of shyness or hesitance completely absent from the way you whined out his name again as he latched onto one of your nipples, arching further up into his touch.

His fingers ghosted between your thighs, teasing your wet folds and making you shudder from sensitivity.

His gaze darted back up to your face, mirroring your earlier concern.

“Is this okay?” He asked, suddenly worried about pushing you too far.

“Joon,” You pulled him back down to you. “Stop thinking.”

You kissed him deeply, your hips up bucking against his hand all the encouragement he needed to continue.

He slipped his fingers between your folds again, his movements so soft and gentle as he spread your slick over your cunt, as if it was the first time he touched you.

“Fuck baby, how’re you always so wet?” He said, almost in disbelief. You were literally dripping, making a mess of the sheets beneath you as he toyed with your clit, pulling the sweetest little noises from your lips as he let two fingers sink into your wet heat, curling them inside of you to find the spot that made you see white.

He loved the way you fell apart for him, head thrown back as your eyes closed in bliss, clinging to him for stability as he pushed you towards your release.

He could feel his cock hanging heavy between his legs, twitching and begging for any sort of attention, but he chose to ignore it, focusing solely on the way you clenched around his fingers, your breath stuttering as your orgasm threatened to overtake you.

“Joon.” You tried to warn him.

“I know, Baby, it’s okay.” He breathed. “Let go.”

You let out a choked cry that faintly sounded like his name as you came, your back arching off the mattress and pressing you closer to him as your whole body shook from the intensity of your high.

"You did so good, baby.” He said softly, pressing a soothing kiss to your temple as you came down. “So fucking good."

“Joonie,” You whimpered in that soft tone that made him feel dizzy with need. “Want you inside, please.”

“Are you sure?” He asked gently. “It’s okay if you wanna tap out or take a break.”

You shook your head. “Need you, please.”

How could he deny you when you ask so sweetly?

He drew his fingers out slowly, letting out a deep groan as he wrapped the slick coated digits around his aching cock, jerking himself a few times to spread your wetness over the length as he stared down at the mess he’d made of you.

He guided the head of his cock between your puffy lips, tracing around the outside of your entrance teasingly, resisting the urge to slip in yet, loving the way he could feel you clenching around nothing.

“Joonie!” You whimpered, squirming impatiently.

He chuckled at your desperation, as if he wasn’t already nearly as gone as you were. “Alright, Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

He repositioned himself, hovering over you as he eased himself into your weeping cunt, eyes shut tight as he felt your fluttering walls stretch to accommodate him. He was amazed at how you still managed to feel this tight even after he fucked you less then a half an hour ago.

He forced his eyes back open as he bottomed out, staring down you with complete adoration.

“I love you so fucking much.” He sighed, kissing you softly, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders, cradling him even closer to you.

If there was a way to preserve a singular moment to exist within for the rest of your life, this was where Namjoon would want to be; not a single thing in the world mattering other than you and him and the way you connected together so perfectly.

Eventually, he started to roll his hips into yours, earning a soft moan from you against his lips.

He kept his movements smooth and unrushed, not fully chasing his own high, just enjoying the feeling of you around him, the way you sucked him in with each thrust, the way you twitched in his arms when his cock brushed against that gummy spot inside of you just right.

Far sooner than he anticipated, he felt lower abdomen beginning to tense, his hips beginning to speed up as his release rapidly approached.

“Fuck, ‘m close.” He warned through clenched teeth.

“Cum for me, baby, please.” You whispered, clutching onto him even tighter.

Your words were the last thing he needed to push him over the edge, his hips slamming against yours with a sudden intensity as he thrusted as deep inside of you as he could manage before cumming, filling you to the brim and making you twitch with sensitivity.

He slowly fell down on top of you, his head coming to rest against your chest, your positions from earlier now switched, his eyes beginning to droop closed on their accord.

“Are you tired now?” You asked, grinning as you caught sight of his sleepy expression.

He chuckled drowsily. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” You kissed his forehead gently. “Go to sleep, Joonie-bear.”

“I love you.“ He mumbled, letting his eyes fully drift closed.

“I love you too.”

He slept better that night than he had in weeks, knowing he was back in the safety of your arms.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon scenarios #namjoon oneshot #namjoon one shot #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts smut #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts requests #7ndipity

[afewproblems]

I just got a tattoo done and was thinking about all of the before and after care instructions they gave me and how older Eddie would have possibly reacted to the list of things he would need to do or items to purchase for a new addition to his sleeve.

The artist reaches out to Eddie years after corroded coffin makes it big. She's fairly well known as a minor celebrity herself in the tattoo and body modification space in LA, so when she contacts Eddie's agent about offering a new piece for his eclectic sleeve he checks out her portfolio and is immediately sold.

She sends him the idea and he signs off on it right away and before they know it, he and Steve are on a plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.

It isn't until it's done, and the second skin is placed over the piece, smoothed out to ensure no bubbling, that Eddie balks at the secondary list of steps he needs to take.

The artist taps out the instruction email on her phone, hitting send with a dimpled grin before reaching out to shake his hand and Steve's, thanking them for being such great new clients. She asks Steve if he would be interested in a piece at some point, to which he smiles politely and shakes his head.

Steve has never been into tattoos for himself, though he's always gone to great lengths to admire and kiss each piece on Eddie's body.

Eddie half listens as they continue to chat, pulling out his phone to review the email she sent him.

"Ensure that you leave the second skin on for three to five days and upon its removal (see removal instructions on page two)..."

Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes right then and there. It's not as though this is his first ever tattoo, he's been getting ink since before this girl was even born.

He winces at the thought, reminding himself that just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know her shit, and she clearly does. He shakes his head and nods when Steve says goodbye for them and they make their way to the elevator.

"Okay, what's with the face?" Steve asks quietly as soon as the door closes.

Eddie sighs and folds his arms over his chest, careful not to bump the now tender area on his forearm.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon, spill," he reaches out for Eddie's shoulder, his warm hazel eyes, now lined with gentle wrinkles at the edges search his face, "do you not like it?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, "it's probably one of the nicest ones in the whole collection, no Stevie, it's not that".

Steve raises his eyebrow now and just looks at Eddie until the elevator dings and the doors open before them.

God Dammit.

He loves and hates this ability, that Steve knows Eddie will crack eventually if he just waits long enough.

"Fine!" Eddie sighs as they make their way back to the hotel.

It's gorgeous out, nothing like the weather back home right now, the palm trees lining the streets and the twinkling fairy lights on every corner gives the area an almost magical feel, despite the bustling pedestrians packing the sidewalks.

"It's a little weird all the instructions," Eddie says eventually. He speaks slowly, doing his best to articulate exactly what he feels.

Steve nods, though the confused pinch between his brow doesn't quite fade.

"And I've been getting these done since it eighties, Steve, it's just a little--"

Eddie growls and tugs on his hair in frustration, "I don't want to be shitty".

Steve shrugs and loops his arm around Eddie's small waist, tugging him closer.

"Be shitty, you know I love it," he grins and lifts his free hand to remove Eddie's from his hair, "what about the instructions made you upset?"

"It's like I'm being talked down to," Eddie says with a frown, "I got a stick and poke from Jeff in '84 that was totally fine with out any of this," he lifts his arm now to show off the shiny second skin to Steve who nods.

"And which one was that again?" Steve asks, there's a leading lilt to his voice that makes Eddie want to sit on the sidewalk.

He huffs out a low whine, "Steve--"

"Eddie," Steve answers with a soft smile.

And Eddie knows he's lost this argument, if you could even call it that, because the bats that Jeff did for him all the way back in '84, have since been covered up.

Over the years they had morphed into six blobs of bluish grey on the back of his forearm that could no longer be distinguishable as bats, and after being asked about his 'abstract' tattoos by an interviewer a few years back, he had made the decision to get them covered.

And it could have been any number of things that lead to the eventual fading and blobification of his bats, but Eddie figured it was probably because they had almost immediately gotten infected a few days after Jeff had finished them in his parents garage.

Eddie clears his throat and opens the email on his phone again, taking another look at the list the artist had sent him.

"Fine, you gonna help me take care of this thing Stevie?" Eddie grumbles as they enter the revolving door of the hotel, stepping carefully into the pie shaped section to avoid colliding with the moving entryway.

Steve snorts and lets his hand curl through one of the belt loops on Eddie's jeans, "I think I remember agreeing to something like that, in sickness and health?"

He leans forward and nuzzels his nose into Eddie's ear, "till the end of our days".

#i like the ending but im not sure how well if fits for this little drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #afewproblems writes #tattoos #steddie #older established steddie #steve x eddie #let them be grumpy old men that think they know better than the whippersnappers #these guys were born in the 60s they would probably have this immediate gut reaction #got sappy in the end #but i wanted it #had my own tattoo done this weekend and i was so surprised by the before and aftercare list

[loveinhawkins]

The day before Spring Break ‘84, Eddie has a panic attack so bad he stays locked in a bathroom stall long after the final bell has rung.

And it’s so stupid. It’s not like the whole thing came as a surprise to him: he saw the writing on the wall even back in December, his grades on a continual downward spiral he couldn’t shift.

But he kept on trucking cause he’s still got the mind of a five year old, apparently, hoping against hope that things would just miraculously work out.

Idiot.

He doesn’t have anything worth getting riled up over, no mistreatment to distract him—sure, if it was O’Donnell doing the honours, she might’ve been a little mean about it, but instead he’d been directed to the school receptionist who confirmed the ‘unfortunate news’ with an uninterested if pleasant smile.

She asked if he’d talked to his homeroom teacher about his predicament, and he’d promptly lied through his teeth and said yes, even though he’d rather die than do anything of the sort. Then she went on about his ‘many options’, a prospective timetable for next semester, some forms to fill in, blah, blah, blah.

“Would you want a call home?” she’d said, already reaching for the phone. “We can go through the process with—”

“No, thanks,” Eddie told her quickly. He stuffed the forms into his bag. “I’ve got—I’ll let my uncle know.”

The thought of Wayne having his day off interrupted by such news made him feel nauseous.

Fuck, Wayne. He’ll be waiting for him.

At that realisation, Eddie goes cold then hot then cold again. He stumbles, gets the stall door open eventually, shakes the jittery feeling out of his fingers.

The parking lot’s still busy—students lazily chatting, perched half in, half-out of their cars; all they’ve got to worry about is whether they’re invited to Tina’s or Josh’s or whoever-the-fuck’s—depends on whose parents have unwisely left their house empty for the week.

Eddie’s stayed so long that he’s missed the bus, so he starts the trudge home, grits his teeth at every stab of his boots cutting into his heels—the van isn’t even on his periphery yet, still many months of scraping and saving to go until it’s his.

He’s almost out the school grounds. He crosses the road entirely on autopilot, startles when he realises that he’s had to make a car do an emergency stop.

Steve Harrington waves him on with a tiny little flick of the finger, all breezy, and great, that’s all he fucking needs—Mister Cool being polite to him.

He gives a small nod of thanks before continuing his walk. Keeps his head down, eyes on the sidewalk. Doesn’t bother about whether he steps on any cracks or not; he figures his luck isn’t changing any time soon.

His palms itch. He knows it’s stupid and embarrassingly self-centred of him, but he can’t get rid the thought that everyone’s looking at him, that everyone knows somehow.

Wayne sees him coming from the porch. By the time Eddie reaches him, he’s gone inside and out, re-emerging with a can of cream soda that he cracks open and holds out with one hand.

Eddie can’t take it. He reaches for the contents of his bag, cringing inside at how the papers are already creased, he can’t even manage…

He passes the forms to Wayne. Can’t look him in the eye.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Uncle Wayne,” he says—and mortifyingly, his throat closes up, and that’s all he can get out.

There’s barely a pause before Wayne says, “Eddie. Can you look at me?” When Eddie does, he clicks his tongue quietly at whatever he must find. “Kid, you’re all right. S’not the end of the world.”

Eddie scoffs. “Damn well feels like it.”

Yup, petulant as fuck too. Why not? Might as well crash and burn.

He at least makes sure to shut the front door as apologetically as he can. There’s one singular plate in the sink that he sets about scrubbing even though it hardly needs it.

He hears Wayne come in; he’s reading still, turning the pages over thoughtfully.

Eddie keeps scrubbing.

Wayne’s probably reading the test results. Eddie doesn’t need to see to know the ones that’ll be lingered on.

He couldn’t even pass English. The one thing that was meant to be in the bag, where he could scrape a C-, and he…

What the fuck’s wrong with him? Where’s the sense in being able to write a good campaign on a whim when he can’t even…

“Eddie.” Wayne passes the cream soda can across the counter. “You keep workin’ at the sink any longer, and m’gonna start thinkin’ you’re ‘bout to give me your last will and testament.”

Eddie chuckles. Scrubs at his eyes and obligingly steps away. He picks up the can—the cold metal soothes the itch trapped in his palm.

Wayne folds the papers neatly, corner to corner.

“I’ll help you fill everything in,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll get a pen.”

But Wayne shakes his head. “Not tonight. We’ve got plans, remember?”

Eddie laughs again. ‘Got plans’, according to Wayne, means watching T.V in comfortable silence, Eddie lounging on the couch; Wayne might occasionally read out a crossword clue he’s stuck on before typically solving it on his own, and Eddie would drop off to sleep early, his last impression that of Wayne treading lightly from his armchair, turning the volume down.

It’s a comforting thought.

But he… he should be…

Wayne gives him a knowing look, waves him over to the couch.

The creak of the refrigerator door opening. Wayne’ll be starting dinner soon. Some sorta pasta, probably: it’s tradition, whenever school ends.

“Hey, Ed.”

Eddie curls up on the couch, knees to his chest. “Mm-hmm?”

“It’s fixable, all right? It ain’t a chore. You know that, right?”

Eddie smiles—he sniffles and doesn’t bother scrubbing at his eyes again when they fill up.

“Yeah, I—I know.”

The words are old, a truth he’s had to be reminded of many times; it started back when the world had ended once before, when Eddie, newly moved into Wayne’s trailer, had stammered, “I-I won’t bother you, Uncle Wayne, I swear, you won’t need to—”

And then he learnt the very first rule of the universe—save for the fact that Wayne would always, always be there to help him.

It ain’t a chore, loving you.

#eddie munson fic #steve has a tiny cameo because i couldn’t help myself #eddie and wayne munson #eddie and wayne munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie and wayne munson ficlet #eddie munson #wayne munson

[backtotheshitshow]

Ghost Clothes Part 2 : the field.

(Wally Clark x reader)

Part1 part3 part4

Summary: after finding y/n in the locker room, Wally wants to show her around the school.

Warning: idk if there is any 🤷‍♀️

Wally lead the way down the hall, doing his best to make small talk with Y/n.

“How did I not hear about you dying. I’ve been here since the ‘80’s and I never heard of a girl dying in the locker rooms.” Wally questioned.

“I died the same week Zayn left One Direction. So a dead girl wasn’t exactly the top story of the local teens.” Y/n explained.

“Ah yes I remember that band, they were no Motley Crüe though.” Wally says, opening the door to the school office. “Ladies first”

“Thank you. Yeah, I was always more of a 5 seconds of summer girl anyway.” Y/n came to a stop at the lost property bin. Everything in there was awful, old sweaty trackpants and hoodies.

“I’ll wait outside.” Wally says, giving a quick smile before leaving.

The only decent thing y/n could find in the bin was some girls basketball shorts and an AC/DC shirt that looked older than her, well older than what she’s supposed to be. Y/n reluctantly changed out of Wally’s jacket and into the other clothes.

She emerged from the lost property room, to be greeted with a smiling Wally. “Oooh AC/DC, you know they’re in my top ten list of bands to work out to. “ the boy chuckled, taking his jacket back.

Wally felt a twinge of sadness, he longed to see her in just his jacket again. God why was he being such a perv. He just meant this girl. Y/n clears her throat, snapping Wally back to reality.

“What? Sorry did you say something” Wally rambled.

“No. you’re just stairing.” Y/n informs.

“Right, sorry. Ah should we.. I don’t know, go for a walk?” Wally suggests rubbing the back of his neck.

“That sounds nice, actually can we start outside.” Y/n asked.

“Of course, come on I’ll show you the football field.” Wally says excitedly.

…

Wally took y/n out to the field, but he couldn’t help but wonder, we’re they on a date?. Like does them going for a walk and chatting together count as a date. Eventually the two stopped at the five yard line, and took in the scenery, glazing at the moon and all the stars .

“Do you spend a lot of time out here, Wally?” Y/n questioned

“ not as much as you would think. I do like being in the library, theirs always new stuff to read in there. Sometimes I just go to the cafeteria and just watch the student, you know, see how things keep changing year after year.” Wally explains.

“You died in 84, didn’t you?”

“Ah yeah… how’d you know.” The boy asked.

“ well I remember sitting at a game one night and I saw the score board and thought. Who the fuck is this Wally Clark guy? So I googled you. But it never said how you died.”y/n says.

“Oh I was layed out in a tackle on the five yard line. Right where you’re standing actually.”

Y/n instantly took a step back, “shit sorry” she gave Wally an apologetic look.

“It’s ok, they’ve re-grassed this field so many times since then, I doubt there’d be any trace of me left.” Wally gave a light chuckle, but to y/n it seemed forced. “Anyway… here lay down.” Wally encouraged y/n lay on the field and look up at the sky.

It was quiet as they both scanned the flickering light of the night sky, until Wally turned his attention to the girl next to him. He studied her profile, the shape of her nose, how soft her lips looked under the moon light, the way her eyelashes fluttered when she would blink.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n noticed Wally staring, again. “You know you have a really bad staring problem, Wally.” Y/n states still looking up at the moon.

Wally immediately turns his head back to the sky. “Sorry.”

The air fell silent again, the only thing y/n could here was the sound of Wally’s soft breaths. It was her turn to stare, y/n looked at the kind boy next to her, he had been so sweet and helpful to her, and under the moon light she wondered why she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was before.

Wally turns and meets Y/n eyes. “ now who’s the one staring” they both chuckle before falling silent again, gazing at each other intently. Wally briefly glanced at the girls lips, only for a second and began to lean closer.

“Who’s that?” Both ghosts jumped apart at the sudden noise.

“Jesus, Dawn. Don’t sneak up on people like that.” Wally sighs.

“Oh I’m sorry, Wally. I just wanted to know who this lovely girl is.” Dawn apologises.

Wally sighs in annoyance “Dawn this is Y/n, Y/n this is Dawn.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Y/n says

“ you too. Did you die during practice?” Dawn asks.

“Practice?”

“Basketball practice, I just thought because of the shorts and the shirt..”

“Oh no these are from lost property, I died in the showers.” Y/n explains.

“Oh my. Well I’m sure one of the ghosts around here can sew, maybe we can make you some new clothes.” Dawn suggests.

“Really! That would be great.” Y/n smiles then looks at Wally, who seems slightly annoyed, “ you don’t mind, do you Wally?”

“No of course not, I’ve got stuff to do anyway.”

“Great” Y/n stands up and begins walking with Dawn back inside the school. “ Hey, Wally I’ll see you later ok.” Y/n shouts from the door.

Wally gives a thumbs up as the girls go inside. Laying back down on the field Wally sighs, asking himself so many questions. Why did he ever think that could of been a date? Why is he so attached to a girl he just met? What is he feeling? Is this what falling in love feels like?

…

#wally clark x reader #wally clark #school spirits #milo manheim #wally clark fanfiction #wally clark x y/n

[rues-daya]

yourinstagram

liked by baileemadison, madelyncline and 1,334,321 others

yourinstagram: paradise 🏝

view all 3,889 comments

y/nfan001 spare hand in marriage? 💍

yourinstagram do you have a ring? if so is it a ring pop? and if it’s a ring pop is it blue raspberry?

madisonbaileybabe sheesh look at that view.. and I’m not talking about the water

y/nfan12 who took this photo is the real question and how can we thank them?

baileemadison an angel. miss you 😘

yourinstagram miss you more 🤍

y/nfan18 that’s our mother y’all

obxfan09 she gives me obx vibes… how do we get her on the show?

rudeth obx 👀

*liked by yourinstagram

y/nfan27 y’all see Rudy’s comment… he been commenting a lot on our girls page

rudeth sorry, I can’t help it! I’ve fallen for her just like you all have ;)

y/nfan233 RUDY PANKOW IS ONE OF US

*liked by yourinstagram & rudeth

yourinstagram ps this photo was taken by a certain someone, i won’t tag them but they know who they are 👀🤍

*pinned comment by yourinstagram

rudeth

liked by yourinstagram, jonathandavissoffical and 5,778,231 others

rudeth: OBX3. TOMORROW 🏝🚢

tagged: obx

view all 10,009 comments

hichasestokes there he is

y/nfan87 I’m so reaching but the island emoji is giving me a certain someone’s recent post 👀

rudyfan098 babe, you are in fact reaching lmao

obx see you tomorrow JJ

madelyncline long time no see, how you been?

y/nfan82 if the rumors are true that y/n and him are dating than i will pass out cause those two are so fine

jonathandavissoffical oh hey man

rudyfan45 he finally posted after 84 years lmao

yourinstagram insert that titanic photo of Rose saying ‘It’s been 84 years…”

rudyfan45 already one step ahead of you girl 😭

yourinstagram oh hey, my favorite character comes back!! can’t wait to fall in love all over again 😍

y/nfan123 she’s a JJ girl

yourinstagram I will ALWAYS be a JJ girl

rudeth as you should ;)

yourinstagram also I think you are kinda of cute.. actually scratch that really handsome and I will like to hang out some day :)

obxfan83 oh she’s shooting her shot… wish I had her confidence ^^^

y/nfan73 y/n I want your man

yourinstagram

liked by madelyncline, rudeth & 2,398,670 others

yourinstagram: thanks for having me Nylon Magazine, you all have been a dream ✨

tagged: nylonmag

view all 9,887 comments

madisonbaileybabe 😍😍😍

baileemadison yes, yes, yes & yes

prettylittleliars our Tabby 🖤

y/nfan744 please reject me so I can move on

obxfan10 I will do anything to have her on obx, like a n y t h i n g

yourinstagram anything you say? because like same

obxfan10 yes anything and glad that you agree with us cause trust us we will find someway lmao

madelyncline date me! date me! date me!

yourinstagram yes! yes! yes!

y/nfan176 if y’all read her interview than you all should know that SHES DATING RUDY PANKOW AND THEY HAVE BEEN DATING FOR ALMOST A YEAR NOW

* pinned comment by yourinstagram

rudeth oh my

rudeth words cannot even put to words how freaking beautiful you are, like… wow

y/nfan13 rudy you have officially passed the test

rudyfan86 when will this be me? reject me already Rudy Pankow

y/nfan267 this comment wasn’t even directed towards me yet I felt butterflies in my stomach

yourinstagram 🦋🤍🦋🤍

rudeth instagram stories

yourinstagram stories

#rudy pankow #instagram concept #instagram au #actress!reader #chandler kinney #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fluff #outer banks #obx jj #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx imagine #famous!reader #jj maybank x you #rudy pankow x you

[the-pale-goddess]

Vices & Virtues - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Dr. Ramsey's weaknesses don’t disturb his everyday life often, but when they do, a certain intern happens to always be involved.

Book: Open Heart, Intern Year (between Chapters 5 & 6)

Warnings: language, my rusty writing, a truckload of pining

Rating/Category: Teen+ / fluffy angst

Author’s note: [insert the ‘surprise, bitch’ & 'it's been 84 years' reaction GIFs]

I’m eternally grateful for the very few angels still waiting for new E&T content—this one’s for you 🫶🏻 Hope you’ll find a moment to read my word vomit and enjoy the mess (aka my writing). I appreciate every comment and like more than words can convey!

Edenbrook is indigestible on Mondays. Though Ethan Ramsey doesn’t believe in whatever ‘curse’ humankind attributed to an absolutely random day, he cannot deny the madness that usually ensues upon the beginning of each week. An inexplicable air of post-weekend malaise does tend to envelop the globe, and Boston is no lucky exception.

“Mondays suck!”

Striding across the hustly-bustly pediatric ward, Doctor Ramsey overhears an agitated boy explicitly expressing his annoyance.

Ethan’s Monday has been a doozy of a day as well, but he’d rather keep his troubles six feet under, preferably in concrete. Nevertheless, a drop of sympathy implores him to stop near the patient’s room and watch the scene unfold at a safe distance.

The child blows a raspberry at the nurse preparing him for a corridor-long wheelchair ride, clearly upset about the surgery he’s being taken to.

A heavy sigh followed by the unmistakable giggle of a certain copper-haired radiologist interrupts Ethan’s first break during today’s demanding shift.

“It’s not Monday, kid. It’s just your life.” Doctor Herbert whispers into Ethan’s ear, a large cup of raspberry tea in her hand. “But at least it’s going to be all rainbows and candy again in three weeks.”

Meanwhile, the situation has escalated quickly: a river of tears streams down the young Monday-hater's cheeks now, his concerned mother shooting pleading looks between her shuddering offspring and the strict nurse trying to efficiently finish the task so she could move on with her hectic schedule.

A pang of dejection pierces Ethan all of a sudden when a long-forgotten fragment of the past he buried flashes through his mind. Before its splinters reopen old wounds, he swiftly pushes the unwanted memory back to the unexplored depths of his psyche.

“I don’t think he’s heard you.”

“Gee, Doctor Ramsey, share some of that cheerful attitude with the rest of us!” Liz nudges his side, almost spilling her hot beverage on his foot. She mouths an apology, but his unimpressed gaze falls elsewhere.

“You wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

“Thank God your interns still haven’t caught that grumpiness you’re suffering from.”

“No need to worry, it’s not contagious.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, partially to announce his departure, then continues the journey to his primary destination: the harmonious sanctuary of his private office.

As soon as the elevator door closes behind Ethan, the confined space becomes his temporary resort. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his sunken, aweary eyes to relieve the tension—an aching remnant of the sleepless night. The exhaustion begins to mess with his senses, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary; permanent fatigue has been his steadfast companion for more than a decade of his career as a doctor.

There’s a crack in that orderly, borderline clinical life of his, as big as a closed fist, and he’s slowly beginning to realize its detrimental consequences.

But none of that matters now.

What matters is that his desperate efforts to bend Naveen’s stubbornness weren’t in vain; there’s still hope—a notion Ethan isn’t exactly on board with, but he puts his trust in science, and beyond any doubt science will point him in the right direction. As long as there’s time, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his mentor, his friend. He’s confident he can do it, he���s capable of diagnosing and curing whichever mysterious illness keeps Naveen captive.

He’s the only one who can do it.

A double shot of deep roasted espresso shall help this cause. Or, at the very least, make his Monday slightly more endurable.

Loud metallic thud followed by a streak of bright fluorescent lighting annunciates the arrival. Empty, windowless corridor welcomes his nostrils with the odious mixture of staleness and antiseptic, typical of the office wing on the sixth floor. He operates on autopilot, mindlessly trudging ahead, marginally consoled by the aura of eerie quietude. Blissfully oblivious to what the so-called Manic Monday has prepared for him next.

All his rational thought and peerless logic evaporate into thin air the second his drowsy gaze zooms in on the old waiting room under renovation currently withheld by the recent budget cuts. Within its hoary walls, a familiar sylphlike figure catches his eye, unwittingly staking her claim to his undivided attention.

Ethan’s dire need of coffee has vanished as well; he’s wide awake now.

Smiling to herself, a sense of pride evident in the alluring dimples carved into her cheeks, Doctor Addams arranges a stack of papers atop a massive couch protected by thin plastic sheet.

Ethan acknowledges that he must ignore the tempest raging inside his chest, but he’s unable to focus on anything else other than the energy she exudes, luring him in like a siren’s song.

This isn’t the first time the infamous Doctor Terminator is utterly powerless in the face of her—the most intriguing mystery he’s tempted to unravel for some godforsaken, unfathomable reason.

Everything he knows about Tiffany Addams has been collateral damage from their close proximity and the isolating nature of their work. Against better judgment, Ethan has stored every single crumb of information thrown at him, like it’s a treasure guarded in the vault of his mind, acquiring new pieces and adding them to this clandestine collection.

With certainty, there’s a new element behind that glass wall, ready to be studied in secret.

As though pulled by a magnet, his feet carry him towards the room while Ethan shuffles through a myriad of excuses plausible enough to start a conversation. A good excuse, however, requires an elaborate background story, supported by a carefully planned follow-up—both of which clearly out of his reach at the moment.

Fully aware of the possible disaster awaiting inside, Ethan steps into the room quietly, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. A sophisticated scent of sultry vanilla wrapped with notes of luminous lavender pervades the space, handily smothering the musty odor of the old hospital furniture stored here for at least a year.

Heedless of his presence, Tiffany remains locked in her own bubble. She’s seated on the couch, browsing through a large leather bag with a lot of noise.

Long onyx locks neatly tamed in a sleek bun reveal the exquisitely sculpted contour of her features, its sharp edges so far removed from the overpowering warmth hiding in her sparkling emeralds and tenacious kindness dripping from the corners of her full mouth.

That stark contrast surely must be a part of her allure, he reckons. Not that there’s any evidence at his disposal—he’s her boss, for fuck’s sake. But the set of cardinal rules applying to the situation doesn’t stop him from looking, nor does it dilute the poison seeping from that singular contaminated thought…

Loud, treacherous voice snarls inside his mind like a beast at the gates of his sanity.

This isn’t staring, this is a comprehensive risk assessment.

Regardless of the pretext, watching her feels almost perverse, but he’s too transfixed to listen to his voice of reason hopelessly trying to redirect him to the path of impeccable propriety.

He can’t look away. Can’t move either. She'll notice him…Eventually.

Is that all he’s become? A disappointment, a fraud. One of the best diagnosticians of the generation, the esteemed Dr. Ethan Ramsey is consistently failing to do his job. His own mind appalls him—once the most treasured asset, his pride and joy, now compromised, useless, struggling to cut through the veil of his inappropriate longing.

Perhaps instead of triggering a spiral of destruction, he should address a more pressing matter: why is there a splotch of purple paint on her cheek?

Better late than never, his focus switches from Tiffany to the negligible surroundings. On her left, spread across the polythene-covered couch, lie a couple of ridiculously abstract drawings, colorful and confusing, each of them made with the skill and precision equal to a six-year-old if he has to guess.

Suddenly, it all clicks.

Along with his tongue.

The short clack doesn’t make her flinch, though she straightens immediately, a glimmer of surprise shining in her riveting eyes when she looks up at the intruder and deems him worthy of a smile. Her lush, rosy lips curl up generously, greeting him with a beam so dazzling his body heats up like bare skin kissed by the blazing midday sun in the middle of summer.

The older doctor doesn’t return the cordial gesture—he has a reputation to uphold and his bruised dignity to save. He quickly takes refuge in the shadow of his perfect decorum, dexterously covering the unjustifiable act of treason committed by his very own carnality.

Tiffany, however, is undeterred in her mission to melt his callous indifference with the disarming sincerity of her vivacious spirit.

“Before you drop your sarcastic grenades on me: no, I have not found my true calling elsewhere. I have not been slacking up either. These aren’t even mine, so insulting someone else’s artistic skills would be totally inappropriate.” Her hand waves over the drawings.

“I wouldn’t dare to insult a respected artist and credit you with their art.” He retorts flatly, then spills the aforementioned sarcasm like the Lord intended. “Early Pollock must cost a fortune or two. How come such rare artworks ended up in your possession?”

His comment inspires a peal of infectious laughter; the powerful melody of Tiffany’s unadulterated amusement conquers the room, all but obliterating the chronic sternness of Ethan’s face.

He cannot help but bask in the glory of this unexpected outcome: he’s the reason behind the glorious, velvety sound; she’s laughing because of him.

“You made a pretty solid assumption, Doctor Ramsey, but I have to disappoint you: early Pollock had an affair with surrealism and his style was way more compositional than this.” She points at the glittery mess splashed in the center of one of the pieces, not so subtly suppressing another wave of laughter.

Miss Addams and her irreplaceable wit painfully remind him of the golden rule he often pretends doesn’t concern his giant ego: do not speak on the topics your knowledge of is insufficient.

Lustrous vivid-green eyes fixed on him and the urgency he’s facing at the moment leave him no choice but to quickly shake off the embarrassment and adapt his reaction accordingly.

Reluctantly, Ethan clings to brutal honesty. “I’m not an art connoisseur, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Oh, trust me, you would.”

A smudge of amethyst retrieves the diagnostician’s attention for one split second, demanding a seamless change of topic.

“I presume you spent your lunch break on the pediatric ward again, trying to start a new art movement.”

Doctor Addams gasps theatrically and presses her slender fingers to her mouth, lowering her head slightly. “What gave me away?”

Ethan considers revealing the truth through another shot of bluntly delivered sarcasm (something he would have done in any other case), but his body betrays him, subconsciously drawing near Tiffany.

“Apart from the excited chatter on the second floor? Nothing.” He replies, straining to keep his impeccable composure just as she bites into her lower lip tantalizingly in what appears to be keen anticipation.

A few risky steps later she’s at his arm’s length, and he decides to measure that dangerously short distance; akin to an audience member of some ludicrous soap opera, the diagnostician observes his hand move towards the intern’s face in slow motion, as if that bloody limb wasn’t his and the falsely innocent intention swarming inside his incisive, virtuous mind filled him with repulsion.

Except he wants this. He needs to feel her.

Even though the mere ghost of an idea may bring his demise, he cannot break free, imprisoned by the torturous vision of her vanilla-scented skin gliding smoothly against his.

Much to his bewilderment, her breath quickens just as much as his; the evergreen forest in her eyes bursts into flames when their gazes meet, burning his hesitation down.

She wants this too.

Nothing could convince him to refrain from acting on this forbidden desire now, not a single reasonable thought seems to be charged with a cogent argument.

So he lets his thumb brush down her right cheek, down the lick of wet paint smeared across her warm skin, taking most of the dark purple off the silken canvas along the way.

The sky didn’t tear in half, there was no divine retribution exacted upon a sinner like him, no sign of punishment fit for his appalling misdeed.

“Nothing. At. All.”

Nothing but the silky smoothness of her face, rapid rise and fall of her shapely chest, and fiery heat searing through his veins…

Inevitably, the unbearable tension crackling between them dissipates in a flash when Tiffany snorts at the sight of his acrylic-stained thumb, a soundless ‘fuck’ escapes her mouth as she sprints to find a prompt solution for the paintmergency, stripping him of time to ponder on what the living hell just happened.

He takes advantage of the moment, immediately scolding himself, forcing his thoughts to flee from the crime scene concocted by his newly depraved brain.

“Must be your enviable instinct of an outstanding diagnostician then.” Cheeky as ever, she casts a playful eye over Ethan while rummaging through the drawers, summoning him to focus on her.

Within a long minute, she scuttles back to him, stretched arm offering one of the two pieces of paper towel sprayed with hand sanitizer. They use it to rub the paint off their skin. As soon as they’re done, Ethan quips back. Sort of.

“The balance between mockery and flattery is a bit too delicate to be used in a professional environment, don’t you agree, Addams?”

Unintimidated by the tricky question, Tiffany lifts her shoulder in a half shrug. “It all depends on the intelligence of the person you’re speaking with. You’re ultrawealthy in that department, so I assumed you wouldn’t mind some harmless friendly banter.”

“We’re not friends.” The speed with which he retaliates might have just sealed his fate. Deep down, he doesn’t quite believe those words himself, but there are rules to be followed unconditionally, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstances.

Dark, noble brows accentuating the breadth of her radiance crease together in sheer bewilderment. He can almost hear the scoff she’s choking back when she sees right through the cone-shaped hole in the thick wall separating them.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“We’re getting there.” She nods vigorously, openly mocking his well-meaning mendacity with lips pursed into a thin line and narrowed eyes surveying him diligently.

„An attending befriending his intern? I can’t see that happening.”

A winning grin lights Tiffany’s features up. „It’s already happening, whether you like it or not.”

The more she pushes forward, infuriatingly so, the more he resists, fortifying his helpless defense.

„Would you be kind enough to explain why on Earth would I let it happen?”

“It’s beyond your control.” She shakes her head. „There’s nothing you can do now.”

He frowns at her, takes her fierce expression in, feigning utter disinterest in the mesmerizing spatter of freckles adorning her glowy skin.

Is the intensity of his glare too revealing? Can there be a flash of ardent curiosity swimming in his eyes and acting up against him?

„You’re awfully confident about all the wrong things, Rookie.”

She mimics the military salute, right hand raised sharply, touching her forehead, fingers and thumb extended and joined, palm facing down. „The colossal pain in your ass reporting for duty, sir.”

This display of her goofiness, derived from the smidgeon of irreverence he’s found himself covertly fond of, successfully penetrates his ruptured facade.

At last, Doctor Terminator’s perpetually grim face blooms with an ear-to-ear smile, so wide and genuine that Tiffany blinks once, twice, most probably questioning whether the exceptionally unusual scene in front of her is real.

The way she gapes at his mouth almost drills a hole in him—she’s that awestruck, like a pious believer who stumbled upon irrefutable evidence confirming the foundation of her faith.

“You should smile more. You…” Her plush lips part when she trails off, then sucks in a breath, as if to stop the profanation of their professional relationship jumping on the tip of her tongue from slipping out recklessly.

She wants this too.

“It suits you.”

Ethan’s cheeks erupt with disgraceful heat, resembling an awkward teenager attracting his crush’s attention for the very first time—the feeling almost as mortifying and inexcusable as the unprecedented lack of any snarky response.

As if the worst was yet to come, Tiffany keeps on staring at him with such exhilarating wonder and sureness he doesn’t quite know how to proceed with such abundance of emotion meddling with his stoic approach.

She wants this too.

For a fleeting moment, the abyss of his solitude shrinks significantly, purple paint filling the crack on the illusory contentment with the life he’s chosen, just as her piercing gaze invites him further into the impossible fantasy.

Then, a jolt of sobering guilt runs along his spine in a rude awakening, at the same time when Tiffany realizes the gravity of her daring statement and its perilous implications.

“I, erm…”

“Uhm, my…”

Ethan smashes the uncharacteristic uneasiness descending on them, a benign half-smile and barely perceptible nod encourage her to continue. “Go on.”

Her gaze flickers towards the hall, a tinge of crimson reddening freckled porcelain. “My break is almost over. I should head back to the ER.”

Hell must have frozen over: his fearless protégée, strong-willed and sharp-tongued at all times, befuddles him with this uncommonly demure armor plate she has put on. The most challenging obstacles and cases fail to break her down, stress and pressure never threaten her admirable strength, and yet there she is—bleeding from her own sword.

This supremely fascinating token of hidden vulnerability sheds new light on the beguiling collection of contradictions making her whole.

He examines the younger doctor pacing around the room as she gathers her belongings up, stuffing her capacious bag with them. Half-way, she spins to address him directly and points at her cheek.

“Am I…Still…?”

“No, you’re alright. The paint is gone.”

“Splendid.”

As she goes forward, assembling her patients’ drawings into a neat pile, and—rather intentionally—ignoring Ethan, he readjusts his tie and dives headfirst into the pool of her discomfort.

“Addams?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to dedicate such a vast portion of your free time to helping others.”

She freezes, visibly offended, but still intent on avoiding his gaze. “I know. I want to.”

“What I meant...Is that you need to add yourself to the equation, Tiffany.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She scoffs, the barely noticeable defensive undertone reverberating in her firm answer not entirely convincing for the diagnostics virtuoso.

His evaluation is disrupted by the abominably loud beeping of Tiffany’s pager. Their eyes finally clash for a brief shootout with no winner before she shuts the damn thing up.

“Well then. See you later, Doctor Ramsey.” She blurts out hastily without giving him a second glance and turns round to rush out of the room, but stops in her tracks near the door.

Something sparks inside that brilliant mind of hers, reigniting her boldness. Dense curtain of long lashes flutters at him over her shoulder, inky-black and luxurious akin to the finest lace, the signature magnetic smile dancing on her lips again—this time infused with genuine concern. She inspects his countenance for a still moment, inch by inch, crease by crease, until her head falls to the side like she has just uncovered his biggest secret.

“Consider locking the door in your office and getting some rest.”

“Giving me advice isn’t included in your job description.” He sneers, the unnecessarily harsh huff of his disapproval concealing the alien sentiment spilling inside his chest.

Somehow it’s still not enough to antagonize her.

Her eyes bore into his audaciously; the gentleness gleaming from elusive emerald green, reminiscent of safety, offers shelter he despairingly seeks, but cannot take. “But it’s nice to have someone watching out for you, isn’t it?”

Somehow they might have more in common than one would think.

Careful not to expose the motley collection of feelings stirring his blood, Ethan draws in a long breath and slips his hands into the pockets of pristine white coat, perfecting his posture, with tense body standing even taller, as though to appear completely unaffected by her undeniable appeal, more unrelenting.

He’s been looked at countless times, yes, but this must be the first instance where he feels truly seen.

It is indeed nice.

The attending doesn’t say a word, for he would have to agree with the intern. She smirks triumphantly, accepting the tacit disbelief etched on his face as conclusive proof of her diagnosis.

Instead of claiming victory through verbal manifestation of her sass, Doctor Addams attacks him using a different weapon: a provocative wink. “Just think about it.”

With a graceful twirl indicating goodbye, his Rookie struts out, leaving a dizzying mist of her divine scent behind.

Wasting no time, Ethan scoots to the exact place where she stood prior to this moment, soaking up the delicious cloud of fragrance, unable to resist sniffing the air like some sort of disgustingly pathetic creep.

Thankfully, there are no witnesses to this particularly revolting descent into madness.

No witnesses to the beginning of his fall.

Mind over heart has never sounded more delusional than now, that his hard-won empire of spotless reason stands on the verge of crumbling. But he’s not giving up—he can’t give up. There’s too much at stake.

Beyond dispute, Ethan Ramsey is not an easy man to defeat. The King of Quiet Desperation wears his broken crown with arrogance, each burnished gem representing his sins, though the ultimate one hasn’t brought him down yet.

Having put the mask of nonchalance back on, Doctor Ramsey turns off the lights and stomps into the empty corridor—his hand still carrying the heavenly softness of Tiffany’s skin like a fingerprint, like a sin, shaky fingers curling at the very thought of the contact—then begins a seemingly casual stroll to his office.

He doesn’t have many vices—she is all of them.

_____

A/N2: Hope you enjoyed this bad boy ❤️ Sorry (not sorry) if it's too long and repetitive...I literally can't shut up when it comes to these two fsksjdkfjs Plus it felt really good to find my writing mojo after such a long time!

PS. If there are any typos and/or mistakes...No, there aren't lol I'm fighting COVID at the moment, so my brain's a little foggy. I had this fic sitting in my drafts and decided to just go with the flow while I'm feverish and can't see any faults sjfskfkjf I'll get back to everyone waiting for a reply when I'm more coherent. Stay safe, lovelies!

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #fluffy angst #choices open heart #open heart fanfiction

[writingcold]

Hello!  Welcome to Chapter 7.2 and the Epilogue of CD&FE.  

Pairing: Jake X Female Reader 

Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years.

Content warnings: A return to smut.  They are reunited and it’s like fireworks.  So, please be aware - mentions of alcohol, adult emotions and relationships, sex, oral, fingering, p in v, maybe some spanking, hair pulling maybe, anal play, language, strong language, you get the picture. Oliver Fucking Reed also makes a 30 second appearance.

Word Count: approx. 6.3K 

It’s here!  The end.  These two - @edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness have been so supportive through this whole bit.  Thank you one last time, ladies.  Love you.  And THE scene is finally here.  We were cackling over pet names during sex until it just fucking worked and we all just did a collective “holy shit”.  

CD&FE, Part 7.3:  Jake POV      

      I almost missed the final bow.  Josh belted out for me to stop as I was pretty much racing towards the stairs.  I knew I was rushing, but fuck that.  I had a flight in ninety minutes.  Randal promised he would have a car with my bag and my acoustic waiting and at the ready.  Somehow, he was able to get me on an earlier flight.  My whole mind was set on getting to Y/n.  The daily texts were not enough.  I needed her.  Now.  I needed to know that we were going to finally try.  

      The others were doing their post-show bickering and critique while I handed off my guitar and walked as fast as my rubbery legs could carry me towards the dressing rooms.  I could hear them calling for me, but I didn’t bother.  I was stripped out of my jacket and was kicking out of my boots by the time I shoved my way into my dressing room.  I had laid out clothes ahead of time.  I sped through cleaning up.  God that was a hot show.  I was a complete mess of nerves and stink as I washed.  All I could think of was how I was going to have to really sprint to get to the gate and make the flight.  It was worth it.  I would be at her door well before breakfast.  That was the goal.

      Towel wrapped around me and trying like hell to squeeze the water from my hair, I was startled by a knock on the door.  I grumbled out a ‘do not disturb’, but I knew the moment the door opened, it was my mom.  

      “Mom - what -”

      “Sorry honey,”  she started as I grabbed my clothes and moved back into the shower stall to dress.  “I know you’re rushing but I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

      “Come on, Mom,”  I grumbled, yanking my pants on.  “I was able to get an earlier flight.  I’m leaving.”    

       “I think this one is important,”  she said as I smashed my elbow into the wall in my effort to pull my shirt across my wet head.  “I met her during the set.  She’s a huge fan.  Such a sweet girl.”

       I glared at her as I walked back out to try to put myself together.  “Mom, we’ve talked about this.  We can’t do these meet and greets just because someone approaches you.  The managers…”

      “I know, I know.  But this one is different.”

      “You say that all the time,”  I quipped as I started dragging a brush through my hair.  “But seriously I have… 84 minutes until I’m in the air.  You know-”

       “But this one-”

       “Mom!”

       A look crossed her face that I had not seen since I was maybe sixteen.  Well, twenties, but really?  She opened the door and leaned out.  I knew she called for my dad.  Damn it.  Sure as shit, two seconds later there he was - with his stern ‘How could you do this?’ look plastered all over his face.

      “Jake.”  One word.  One syllable.  And I found myself back to being their child.  

      “I’m forty two years old. When does this shit end?”  I griped as I threw my stage clothes on hangers to be washed.

      “Never,”  my mother replied with a raised eyebrow.

      I relented if it meant they would get out of my dressing room.  I threw the rest of my personals into the waiting backpack and looked around for anything that I may have missed.  In the history of me trying to get shit done so I can leave, this moment was probably the fastest I’ve ever moved.  There was still a chance that I could dodge the fan thing.  Mom did, after all, forget to tell me where to go.  Or had I just not heard.  Didn’t matter.  Out the door and I immediately turned towards the loading bay.

      “Jacob!  Over here!”

      Fuck.  I had been caught.  When I turned towards them, I may have been scowling.  Mom did that thing with the fingers drawing the corners of her mouth into a smile and everything.  Was it too much to ask to get on a damn plane and get to this woman that I…  Loved.  I loved her.  Every thread of my being loved her.  Craved her.  Desired her.  But not just the sex.  It was like we were two pieces of the same map that needed no stitching to be together.  I drew out my phone and held up two fingers, mouthing to her as I passed by - two minutes.

      Everyone was in the banquet style family room.  Odd.  Josh was still bouncing around in his jumpsuit like he was plugged directly into an amp.  There was family all over the place, but it felt off.  I couldn’t identify the sensation beyond it being like a dream.  Everyone was glancing and looking at me but not really acknowledging me.  The frustration of time slipping away ate at my edges and started to piss me off.  I didn’t have the time for this shit and trying to track down a ‘fan’ was not my priority.  We were nearly through to the back side of the room when I threw in the towel.

      “Mom!  I don’t have the time for this shit!”  I blurted out, turning around as she began to argue.

       I was expecting her to really lay into me, but her words were nonexistent.  My gaze first fell on my dad as he was in front of the door, an overly cocky look on his features.  Just before him was Y/n, a shy smile and soft rock from side to side betrayed her unsureness of the moment.  My jaw dropped open and my guts spilled to the floor.  It was like the first time to Disney World, the first time playing Madison Square Garden, and seeing her for the first time ever all rolled into one.  The breath in my chest turned to fire as I felt my mom’s hand land on my back.

       “So totally your girl, Jacob,”  she whispered.

       I struggled through an exhale in a frail attempt to not break down.  “How do you know?”

      “Because Dad still looks at me the way you look at her, forty five years later,”  she said with a gentle push at my shoulder.  “Stop trying to be cool.  We all know it’s about to get mushy in here.”

      At her warm laughter, I found myself untethered from the ground and moving towards her.  All I could see was her and the glint in her eye that was my beacon.  I blinked and she was in my arms.  I blinked again and her lips were on mine.  I didn’t bother to listen to the whoops and hollers that were happening around us.  Fuck that.  The moment was all us.  I felt like I was being stretched and pulled and smashed and pummeled all at the same time.  The sound of her filled me like nothing else.  All I wanted to do was drag her back to the hotel…

      “Oh, shit,”  I whispered.  “I don’t have a room.”

      My hands came down on her hips as she started to step away.  I didn’t need her to move - at all.  It was like she instantly was the air that I needed to breathe.  The grin on her lips as she took me in made my heart quiver.

      “I gave up my room.  I’m supposed to be on a damn plane in-”

      She laughed as she cupped my cheek.  “I have a room.”

      I leaned into her touch.  Life went on around us. I was locked into her and unable to get past it.  I watched as she slipped her hand into mine and pulled it close to her chest.

      “Should we get out of here?”  she asked, a faint blush grew across her cheeks as she looked around at my family as if becoming aware of so many eyes on us.

       “Yeah.  Feeling a little weird with everyone around,”  I sighed with a backwards look at Mom.

       Dad was at her side, both grinning like idiots at us.  I felt like we were at a wedding - that part where everyone suddenly is ready for the couple to race away to get laid, or whatever.  

      “Where the fuck is Randall?”  I suddenly asked, formulating a plan from the ashes of my previous one.

       I located the assistant and was able to get the car to take us to the hotel.  He was also gracious enough to change the plane ticket for me - adding one for her for the next evening.  Perfect.  It was perfect.  I could barely keep my hands from her as we fumbled our way up to her room on the third floor, oddly enough just down the way from my  previous suite.  Nice.

      I fell against her as the post show exhaustion caught up with me.  We slowly made love, accepting it was all I was up to as every ounce of my frame started to ache.  I fell asleep with my cheek on her chest and her hands in my hair.  When I woke up alone, I panicked until I heard her moving around at the bathroom vanity.  An idea came to my brain as I slid out from under the tangled up sheets.  I was half hard by the time I saw her in the reflection of the huge mirror.  I caught her hips as she started to turn my direction.

      “Think you can keep your leg hiked up on that counter, mouse?”  I asked, as I gently pulled her right thigh up to rest her foot on the edge of the long, low slung vanity.

       I wasn’t really paying attention to her answer, just her wide spread pussy that had already started to weep just for me.  I trailed my fingers across the miles of skin of her leg going right to her center.  My eyes traced up to hers in the mirror as I passed a barely there touch to her clit.  The way her eyes widened for a moment made me grin.  I watched my fingers go to work against her folds and nub.  It didn’t take long before she was dripping against my skin and down her thigh.  Her head flopped back, and I made sure my shoulder was there for support.  I kissed along her neck just like I knew it would make her fall apart all the faster.  I hummed as I found the pulse point and she buried her teeth in her lip with a dull whine.  

       “Spray for me, mouse,”  I whispered against her cheek.  “Give it to me.”

       Her hands wrapped back across my hips for support.  She looked amazing with me wrapped around her, lips hung open and the sound...  Goddamn her sounds were making my cock ache something fierce.  I shifted, pressing into the small of her back as I tugged her open all the more.  I slid two fingers into her and was rewarded with a raspy moan that filled every inch of my skin with heat.  My palm filled with her as she hosed down her leg.  Her frame shook hard with her pleasure that I pumped her through hard.

       “Put your hands on the counter,”  I whispered as I kissed down her spine.

       I placed a sloppy kiss on the swell of her ass before sinking my teeth in.  

       “Motherfucker,”  she gasped as I pressed my fingers into her firmly as I tugged my bite to ensure I marked her.

       I lapped at her soaked thigh until I reached her core.  Fuck I missed her taste.  I sucked every inch that I could, savoring all of her.

       “Jake,”  she groaned, pushing her ass back a bit as if moving me to where she needed.

       “Like that?”  I asked before I ground the tip of my nose against her core and nibbled at her clit.

       “Jake,”  she said, this time her voice was off, like in pain.

       I pulled back, trying to catch a glimpse of her in the mirror.

      “Fucking cramp!”  she belted out, her leg coming down off the vanity suddenly and nearly falling back into me.  “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, fucking hell, ooooooowwwww.”

      I rubbed at her hip and thigh with a grimace.  I apologized profusely as she started to laugh.  Her cheeks were completely blushed out as I helped her to walk back towards the bed.

      “Sorry, sorry!”  she said, hiding her face.  “Oh my god, I can’t believe that just fucking happened!”

      I laughed as I got her to sit down.  “Are you okay?”

     She grimaced something fierce as I pressed my fingers into her thigh where she had been trying to grab and kneed.  I slowly knelt before her, helping her through the steel tightening in her leg.  I bent and planted a kiss on her knee as she blew out a few deep breaths.

      “Better?”  I ask quietly as I look up into her embarrassed face.

      “Yeah,”  she groaned, still trying to hide her eyes.  “I’ll be okay.”

      I smiled at her.  She’s gorgeous even when she is so totally flustered.  I took her hands into mine and leaned back on my heels.  She peeked to find that I was totally soft.  She whispered out a curse as her embarrassment washed across her once more.

     “Just means you gotta work for it,”  I sassed with a raised eyebrow.

     I hummed at the sight of her tongue at the corner of her lips.  She whispered for me to stand up and I was quick to follow her order.  She dragged her hands down my flanks and the fronts of my hips.  She lapped at her lips in a very obvious manner as she hooked my soft length with her thumb.

     “Hmmm,”  she said, her voice full of depth.  “I kind of like ‘em soft for this.”

     She rolled her eyes up to meet mine as she dropped her mouth totally open and fed all of me into her mouth.  Her tongue tickled my balls before she sucked one in, followed by the other.  The sight blew my mind as she vibrated with a giggle.  She dragged her teeth across the ball sack as she slowly let them go with a little bite at the end.

      “Fuck,”  I breathed, practically hunched over her and her dark magic.

      “That didn’t take long,”  she teased before taking my hardening shaft between her lips with a hard pull.

       She pulled me all the way back in and rolled my sack between her fingers.  She bobbed her head a few times before meeting my gaze once more.  She let me go and wiped a line of drool from the corner of her soaked mouth.  It was absolutely obscene the way she sucked at my thigh and pumped my cock.

       “How you gonna fuck me, Jake?”  she hummed before swallowing me down again.  “You gonna treat me like an angel?  Be all gentle and sweet like you did last night?”

       My jaw slacked as she spread my cheeks and passed her fingers across my entrance and twisted her tongue over the tip of my dick.  She was better than porn.  She was better than any other woman. She was mine.

      “Or are you gonna make it hard and rough.  Treat me like a sinner,”  she cooed, working my rim with delicious pressure.  “You gonna fuck me hard into this matress?  Break me.  Ride me.  Fucking mark me?”

       She spat on her finger and pressed beyond the rim to swirl and make me moan like her own whore.  She yanked my cock up to press against my belly while she loved on and bit on my balls and the inside of my thighs.  I nearly shot my load all over her face right there.  She seemed to pick up on it and backed off with a sultry lick from base to tip.  She rained gentle kisses to my belly as she put herself into my hands.

      I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up to her feet with a searing kiss.  She was everything in that moment.  Every moment.  All time.  Everything.  I turned her and pushed her down onto her belly.  I wrapped her hair around my fist as I straddled her thighs.  She lifted her hips just enough to expose her core to me to slip into.

      “You don’t want me to be gentle?”  I asked as I bottomed out nice and slow.

      I exposed her throat with a languid tug on her hair to pull her face away from the mattress.  The way her back strained was sexy.  She was powerful as I stayed buried in her depths.  I saw the red mark already forming beneath my shifting palm on her hip.  I slapped her ass cheek with a wicked speed that made her gasp.

      “Please, more,”  she squeaked.

      I couldn’t help the smirk that pierced my lips.  We explored during our times together.  We were by no means shy about sharing ideas or desires.  But damn if this was a boundary that we had not tested before.  I was hooked.  I slapped her other cheek before pounding myself into her at a fast pace, but shallow, teasing depth.  She growled and tried to look back at me, but I tightened my hold on her hair, keeping her right where she was.

      “Don’t fucking tease me,”  she threatened.

      It sent shivers all the way through my system.  I ate it up like fucking candy and needed more.  Immediately.  I pulled myself from her and parted her legs so I could nestle down between and thrust hard into her before I laid down on top of her.  I held onto her wrists as I pummeled in and out and ground down against her ass.

      “Better, baby?”  I asked with my teeth on her ear.

       “More,”  she moaned.

       “More, what?”  I tested, just to see what she would say.

       Another low, deep moan erupted from her chest as I  pushed through her tight folds and felt her constrict all the way down my length.  “BITCH,”  she growled.  “You’re my fucking Bitch!!”

       I lapped and sucked on her ear with a taunting laugh.  “I’ve been your bitch for two damn decades,”  I sighed.  “Try again, baby.”

       Silence.  But I didn’t let up.  I sucked a mark hard into her throat as I dragged myself nearly completely out and slammed back into her.  The sound of our skin slapping against each other was profane.  I felt her spray as I set into another punishing round.

      “Schnookums!”  she bleated out with a hard laugh.

      “What the fuck is that?”

      I couldn’t help but pause for a second to regroup.  I laughed into her shoulder and she actually snorted.  So sexy.  I threaded an arm across her chest and rolled us over so that she was on top with me still buried deep within.  She sat up and rolled her hips a few times before turning to face me.  God, I loved her form.  The deep cut of her hips, the bounce of her breasts.  

       “You going to try again?”  I asked, shoving my hips up to force another hard connection.

       She practically flailed over as I ground up into her.  I watched as she recovered and leaned over me so we were nose to nose.  She made like she was going to kiss my mouth but instead, hovered just above.

       “Captain.”

       I gasped.  Everything blurred as the singular word set my body on fire and my mind to racing.  I grabbed hold of her hips and rolled us once more so that I could properly fuck into her without mercy.  My gaze locked onto her face as I pounded my hips into hers.  She yanked up her legs to give me full access.  I felt myself turning into a feral being as I ground and slapped my body into her.  

       Her eyes twinkled as she pushed herself up to kiss me hard and pull me down into her.  She repeated ‘captain’ over and over, coaxing whimpers from me that filled the air around her like she commanded my every movement.  It was like that poem, but better - it was her own.  She was panting and chirping and her eyes were glazing over like she was about to… oh goddamn.  I swear her pussy clamped down on me as a cry ripped from her mouth.  Everything on her body froze solid. Her whole body buckled and bowed and shivered with her orgasm.  I couldn’t help but to be dazzled as I shot my load with a sound that poured from my mouth that I had never made before.  My heart was racing in my chest and my breath was blowing against her hair as we tried to hold onto each other.  She cooed and caressed me.  I pressed ghostly kisses across her collarbones as if I could drink those last remnants of the love we just shared to stay drunk on her.

     Stillness.  I listened to her breathe as we dozed pressed against each other.  I trailed my fingers back and forth across her shoulder as I tried to gather my thoughts, my words.  There was too much to say to her at this point.  My throat vibrated with the prettiest of sentiments.  But they remained mute as I just took in the weight of the seconds as they ticked by.

      Her phone chirped an alarm that demanded her attention.  My skin screamed out for her quick return, only to be left disappointed.

      “If we’re going to make that flight, we gotta move,”  she whispered, suddenly keeping her distance.

      I frowned.  I knew she was right.  I knew I had just blown my opportunity to quell the bubble of question that was roasting in my chest.  Somehow, just feeling her presence had been more important.  We found ourselves through showers, dressed and taking the elevator down to the lobby before either one of us spoke again.  It was like all we needed to say was in the linger touches we shared; the long held gazes that accompanied a knowing smile.  Randall had a car waiting for us and we were on our way to the airport in no time at all.  I held her hand against my thigh, but it didn’t seem like enough contact.

      We sat in the gate waiting.  It was then I noticed that in our quietness, there was a resolve.  I watched as she talked to Pat on her phone, but all the while, she was touching me - my arm, my knee, holding onto my hand.  She was in the same space as me.  Just to know that she was real - that this moment was really happening.  The flight was not remarkable.  She dozed on my shoulder the entire way.  I breathed in the trust that she gave over to me.  

      Her new home was the embodiment of her.  It was not unlike the house she had all those years before, but this one felt like her whole life was woven into every fabric, embedded into the paint and bones of the structure.  There was nothing hidden - everything of her was on display.  I carried our bags into her bedroom and she cornered me as I was about to walk back out to her kitchen.  Her lips parted as she leaned close.

      “I love you,”  I whispered as our lips hovered over each other.  “I’ve loved you forever.”

      She planted a soft kiss but then leaned back with her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.  “I claim you my safe harbor, Jake.”

      There it was.  The bubble of questions in my chest calmed.  I knew it wasn’t going to be absolutely perfect, but it would be ours.  We would navigate this - the long stretches of being alone and the times where we could be together.  She had made changes, just the same as I had made changes.  The built in breaks for family would tie in perfectly when she would have to be in the office.  The tour dates where we were on the road, she would be able to follow much more freely, working from whatever faraway hotel we found ourselves tucked in.  It was a balance.  It had been a hard fight for balance, but we did it.  We made it work.  And we flourished because of it.    

Epilogue, Her POV     

     My heart was racing, matching the paces of my steps as I dashed through the terminal of Detroit airport.  I had been waylaid by Spring storms and a client that needed a bit of extra hand holding to see the vision of their event.  I stopped just long enough to pee and to get a text out to Ronnie to meet me at the door.  There was no way in hell I was going to miss the big party.

     I pushed my way out the double slider doors and instantly heard the rumble of the ‘Cuda.  Leave it to my escorts to do this running in style.  The air owned a brittle warmth, like Spring wanted to arrive, but had at least one good snowstorm left in her to give.  I pulled my light jacket closer to my frame as I made it to the curb.  Kelly was quick to step out of the shiny cherry red, deep rumbling 1970 Barracuda.  He pulled me in for a quick hug before making way for me to slide into the backseat like it was a get-away car.  He tossed my bag into the trunk and off we went with Ronnie behind the wheel.

      “How you doin, Papa?”  I cooed as I got myself situated.

      Kelly grinned that infamous Kiszka grin over his shoulder.  His dark sunglasses did little to hide the joy in the man’s face.  “I’m doing amazing, sweets,”  he answered, before he started on the usual round of polite questions to catch up.

      It was already after four in the afternoon.  Ronnie had assured me that they could make it home in under 90 minutes.  Once out on the interstate, she flew that beast of a car much to her father’s delight.  We were serenaded by Kelly’s lovely baritone gravel and Ronnie’s smooth interjections of trills.  The intimidation factor of such blatant and latent talent that coursed through the family was still strong, even eight years down the road.  The best I could do is hum, sorta on key, but they loved me anyway.

      The years with Jake had not been easy, but I could not imagine life any differently.  Sure, we had a lot of bumps and bruises as we tried to figure out our balance - together.  Did we regret the resistance that spanned for so long - at times.  Honestly, I don’t think we had the maturity to survive what we are able to now.  I am able to travel with him many times throughout the year.  He comes home to me during tour breaks.  When possible, we divide time between St. Paul and Nashville, and of course Frankenmuth is still home for his folks and Ronnie.  

      “Drop me off at the hall.  The boys are expecting me,”  Kelly said as we crossed the town line.

      It was going to be a huge covert mission sneaking me in under the Kiszka radar.  Ronnie got us into her driveway and we ran inside, dodging kids and toys and all manner of obstacles.  The show was only a few hours away - One Night Only - A Night of Celebration with Greta Van Fleet was a sold out affair at Fischer Hall.  Josh broached the idea of having an all acoustic set, no openers, just a totally stripped down show with their hometown to celebrate the twins’ fiftieth birthdays.  All funds raised from the tickets were going straight to the music boosters and the Autofest to give back to the town that had so nurtured them while they grew up.  It would be just like it had been way back with them setting up, but there were a few volunteers from their formal road tech crew that made themselves available for the festivities.  

     We had just enough time to snuggle down with the nieces and nephews and have a small supper before getting ready and heading in for the party.  Ronnie and her husband, Ethan, expertly corralled their four kids into the side entrance, taking their residence in the roped off area marked family only.  I made sure to stay hidden as Jake was still texting me to see if I was on the way to at least catch the family events for the next few days.  I just kept assuring him that I would be in by breakfast.  

      “WHAT!”  Sam’s sass filled my ears before I felt his hands on my back.

      “Oh hell,”  I muttered as he turned me around and enveloped me in his embrace.

      “I thought Jake said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow,”  he babbled, rocking me side to side.

      I tried to shush him, but was buried in his chest.

      “Oh my gawd, wait until he knows-”

      “Sam!  No!”  I barked out, trying to keep my voice down but loud enough to be heard.  “It’s a surprise.”

      The glint that overtook his eyes was endearing.  I could count on him to be quick to figure out the puzzle before him, regardless of his own mindset.  He nodded and seemed to step back, as if blocking the doorway.

      “Are you staying here?”  he asked, waving at hand around the side stage area.  When I nodded, he frowned.  “That won’t do.  He’d totally see you with the family…”

      My heart froze when I heard Josh and Jake coming towards the main staging area.  My eyes must’ve been as big as saucers that Sam somehow mirrored.  He pushed me into the curtains and proceeded to the stage with his brothers.  Danny passed by with a perked eyebrow but instantly was in on the scheme when I held up a finger to my lips, no words necessary.  There were times that I so appreciated that man.  The hall was packed and loud as they settled down onto stools and chairs.  

     “A Very Happy Birthday To US!”  Josh shouted out, beaming out across the audience with a million watts of sunshine.

     I chanced a glimpse out, seeing Jake under the stage lights.  His full silver hair shone around him as he slowly ran his fingers across the frets.  His handsome face was full of concentration as he prepared during Josh’s rambling speech about nice to be home amongst faces of so many friends and family.  He talked about their first show in the hall and their last appearance before things took on a much bigger avenue.  I watched as the corner of Jake’s mouth tugged a bit as if his memories swirled right along with his twin.  Sam and Danny were on either side of them, so as to keep the twins together on their day.

      “There you are,”  Karen whisper-shouted from behind me.

      I grimaced as I turned, hoping not to draw attention as they started to play the opening song.  “Hey, Mom,”  I greeted softly as she pulled me in for a hug.

      “Cake’s here - they’re prepping it up now,”  she said, eyes on her boys.  

      It was not hard to see the pride in her eyes.  Even after all the years, she still loved to see her boys play - didn’t matter if it was to something small like the hall, or huge stadiums.  Her boys.  Her treasures.  We watched, hand in hand, for a stretch.  My spirit calmed as I watched my man play his guitar and wear a smile that made me swoon.  I could hardly believe that I had had eight years with him.  There were times that were still rough, but we were happy.  I was happy.  Jake made every moment count.  I loved the man and was rewarded with the good and bad that made him Jake.  

     Karen tugged at my hand as they were nearing the final few songs.  The plan was that I would help her and Kelly push the cart that held the cake out on the stage to surprise Jake.  I cast one glance back towards him as she led me away.  He radiated absolute joy.  It brought tears to my eyes to see him so filled with happiness.  Kelly wrapped his arm around my shoulders as if he just knew that I was struggling.  He held me close without a word as if knowing that just some quiet was what I needed to get back on my feet.  

      “You ready, honey?”  Karen asked without actually committing her words to anyone - she just put her hands on the rolling cart and took off towards the stage.  

      I looked up at her husband and he just shrugged with a smile as if it was answer enough.  I walked with him, his hand wrapped tight to mine.  They were lingering across a song from the latest album by the time we stepped to the edge of the stage.  Karen, in all her boldness, walked right out there, egging the crowd on for cheers that seemed to wash over the stage with cries of ‘Happy Birthday!’  Jake turned and his gaze froze on me.  For a moment, I struggled for breath as his eyes grew glossy and the corner of his mouth pulled tight with emotion.

      Kelly and Karen were busy lighting candles while Josh, Danny and Sam were bent over causing all sorts of theatrics to distract from how Jake set his guitar to the side and slowly stood up from his stool.  I stumbled forward, totally missing how there were cords everywhere and nearly slammed myself into the back of Kelly.  Yeah.  That would’ve been amazing.  Much to my relief, Jake had his hand out for me to take.  He pulled me into him and kissed me hard as his fingers drifted across my cheek.

      “Happy birthday,”  I whispered as the crowd started to sing the happy birthday song.

      He pressed his lips to mine once more, his fingers soft against my face.  “God, you’re beautiful,”  he said softly, his eyes were slow to open as he leaned into me.

      The catcalls and wolf whistles commenced as he kissed me again and his parents finished lighting the massive amount of candles.  The hall hushed as it seemed the twins became overwhelmed with emotions.  Josh held out his hand for Jake to take before they bent over to blow out the inferno before them.  Kelly wrapped his arm around Karen as they seemed to fall together in their golden pride for their boys.  The hall erupted in cheers as they laughed over their struggle to get every candle out.  Of course they yukked it up with clutching each other chests in a mock gasp of breath.  

     Jake reached for me once more.  His eyes sparkled as he brought me close.  His gaze made me feel like everyone else evaporated.  He cupped my cheek and kissed me sweetly.  God, I loved this man.  

     I am unsure if I was caught up in the moment, or if it was the right time, but I leaned into him as he folded me into a tight hug.  The others were already getting back to their stools and Karen and Kelly were pushing the cart away.  I took in a deep breath and whispered a word I never thought I would say willingly.

     “Husband.”  The word clawed its way from my mouth, but it was honest in the moment.  My eyes met his and my chest swelled with emotions as he seemed to realize what was happening.  “I’d like to call you husband, Jake.”

     He paused.  He literally paused all of his movements and just stood there holding me.  I just about started to panic, wondering instantly if I had overstepped.  He kissed the spot just below my ear.  I caught sight of those warm, dark eyes as he pulled away from me.  They twinkled with a love that was mine alone.  Every cell inside my body was jolting with the energy he fed me.  He made sure that I made it over the cabling before getting back to his job.  Karen looped her arm with mine as she just beamed radiance towards her family.  

      “Jake!  I know she’s a looker but did you forget we have this thing we gotta do?”  Josh was joking as he was settling back onto his stool with his guitar.

      There were more than a few laughs and I caught how he swayed a bit, shifting into…  “pRicK, you don’t talk about my girl that waaaay,”  he drawled, his smile was a mile wide.

      “Oliver, you said you wouldn’t do this again,”  Josh pretended.  “Remember the last time you tried to pull this - it ended in fire and thankfully no one died, but still.”

       “Yeah well, Jake’s never gotten proposed to, so this is how he answers ‘yes’,”  Jake joked, looking back at me.

       Karen screeched, echoing the crowd.  My everything became flooded with joy as the brothers congratulated him and threw me air kisses.  Our lives had been one meandering string of run-ins that were always filled with passion and a question of love.  These past years only solidified our need for the other.  Soulmates?  Perhaps.  There’s a power in finding the one who truly understands you inside and out.  As he held me on that stage, I knew one thing - this was no longer the fleeting embrace that it once had been.  It was truly a daily celebration of our life together.  And it was a beautiful, beautiful thing to be beholden to.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed CD&FE as much as I enjoyed writing it.  The original story was actually a version of Best Laid Plans that got scrapped and forgotten until it waved like a maniac at me one day and this was formed.  It really was my first reader insert that was multi-chapter, so that was interesting!  Trying it again with my next story The Dead.  I’m a long way from being done with it, but just know I’m working on something.  See y’all soon.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatcherc @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #cd&fe #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet AU #jake kiszka AU

[tenitchyfingers]

can I fuck you up more about Paul and John?

Paul lost a LOT of people. He made the choice and did the work to get over them. As far as I can tell, he made the choice to never get over John. I'm 55. The only example I can think of is my uncle Peter, who was killed in Vietnam in December 1967 at age 25. It completely destroyed the family. It killed my grandmother. To this DAY, my 91 year old aunt and my 84 year old father cannot talk about him without crying.

Paul REFUSES to get over John. He RELENTLESSLY talks about him at every opportunity. He has spent 40 years singing Here Today which makes him cry (I've personally seen it twice) and has spent two years singing a duet with John in concert. He has spent 30 years waiting to release Now and Then. There is NO SUCH THING as a celebrity at his level who NEVER SHUTS UP about someone who died 43 years ago. and he does not give a flying fuck. He is going to make SURE we are all missing John like he was killed yesterday.

Thank you for this. And god, I’m so jealous rn. Never got to see him live, hope I’ll get to and I’m really starting to be very afraid I’ll never have a chance bc like. Guy is old (and I’d like to see Ringo as well, ideally on stage with Paul and maybe Dhani too and Sean or Julian or… who can say? both is good) 😭😭 and yeah, I’ve seen a bunch of live performances of Here Today that Paul did and it seriously does seem like he can’t get used to performing it without at least having his voice crackle or vanish completely. And I wonder what he was thinking while working on Now and Then.

It’s like when Mark killed John, a huge part of Paul was blown up too and like he’s constantly trying to get it back. But I also really am impressed in some way from how much time he spends bringing John up, and I find it sad too because it does seem like he constantly has unfinished business with him, like there’s some closure he’s looking for that he can’t find and the one thing I keep thinking back on is when at a gig he sang Here Today and then told the audience “if there’s someone you love, tell them” because I think THAT’S the thing he keeps regretting and trying to fix and never really getting to (although I do also think John KNEW how much Paul loved him, if not as a “husband” as a best friend let’s say). Aside from the issues I have with John (mostly his behavior towards Julian, because I really think he was a massive dickhead for it, and Jules did nothing wrong to be treated like that), I really don’t think he was very hard to love. Paul is my girlie, but I very much do understand why he loves John so much. And I like thinking that they still talk to each other, through music, in some way. That like, a huge reason Paul still makes music is that that’s how he gets to connect with whatever John left inside of him, if that’s not too corny to say. And I absolutely admit this is my McLennon further brain talking, here. I also DO believe he just loves music and loves making music, of course. But with how much he mentions and talks about John and writes songs for him… like we get it Paul. Keep going, but like, we get it.

#omg hello #fair warning ​I could talk about Paul and McLennon forever #beatles #macca #john #I really hope Got Back isn’t his last tour #otherwise I’m FUCKED

[layce2015]

Sneak Peek #2 for The Boys Fic (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

(A/n: Soooo…hey everybody! I know it has been awhile since my last post, which announced that I was gonna do a The Boys fic, and I am sorry for the wait. For anyone wondering, yes I am still doing it I’ve just been dealing with every writer’s worst nightmare….Wirter’s Block!

Mainly it’s cause the show doesn’t give a whole lot of Soldier Boy’s backstory and I’ve been adding some flashbacks into my fic that shows how Soldier Boy and (y/n) interacted. But all we got of Soldier Boy’s past is from other people’s perspective and maybe some mentions from the man himself. So it has been a rough to come up with scenarios from little information we got. So I stepped back from it for a bit. But now I’m back on working on it and I have at least two and a half chapters written out and it’s supposed to have at least 8 chapters. But it could be more if Soldier Boy ends up appearing in season 4.

Anyway, to prove that I am working on this fic, here is another sneak peek for the fic.)

"Well, we got to talk. I think I have something, thanks to my informant." Maeve said and she hands him a folder. "Informant?" Butcher asked as he takes the file and opens it to see some pages of information and pictures of Soldier Boy. "Soldier Boy. So what?" Butcher said as he looks up at her.

"Remember how he died?" Maeve asked him. "Stopping a nuclear meltdown in Ohio. '83, '84, I think, got buried beneath a reactor. Always thought it was bollocks." Butcher said. "Yeah, you thought right. Read." She tells him and he reads the file.

"What's B.C.L. RED?" He asked. "If you believe the rumors, it's the thing that killed Soldier Boy. My informant said it's some kind of gun or weapon or something. Had to have been a fսcking H-bomb. He was nearly as strong as..." Maeve said as Butcher looks through the file and looks at some pictures.

"If we can find this...weapon or whatever it is, maybe we can use it to blow Homelander's fսcking brains out." Maeve said. "If it is real, not some fսcking fable." Butcher said then he picks up the team-up picture of Payback. "Payback." Butcher mutters before he scoffs. "What a bunch of fսcking wankеrs." He said as he stares at photo. "When The Seven passed them as the number one super team, Crimson Countess sent me a box of cat shit. But not all of them were bad. She was a close friend of Soldier Boy and his ex-girlfriend." Maeve said as she gestures to the photo and points at the red-haired woman in the red outfit who was standing on the right of Soldier Boy.

"And, uh, Gunpowder was his sidekick." She said as she points at the young teen who was standing at Soldier Boy's left. "If anyone knows what happened to him, they do." Maeve said while Butcher noticed Noir in the photo. "Your mate Noir was in Payback. Why don't you ask him?" He asked her and Maeve scoffs. "Even if that walking tumor could talk, it wouldn't be to me." She said and Butcher looks at the photo again and noticed a woman standing on the other side of Gunpowder.

She looked about in her late twenties, her long (h/c) hair was braided and she was wearing a dark blue body-suit and a gold belt and knee high boots, a matching cape on her shoulders.

"Is that...?" Butcher started to ask and Mavee nodded. "Mystic Shade, yeah." She said. "Haven't heard that name in years." Butcher said and Maeve shrugs. "She retired sometime after Soldier Boy's death. She was fucking Soldier Boy." Maeve said as Butcher flips to another photo and this one was of Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade together. They were both smiling and Mystic Shade was hugging Soldier Boy as he had an arm around her waist.

Butcher then looks at Maeve. "Well then, I should be visiting her, not these two knobs." Butcher said but Maeve shakes her head. "No, Mystic Shade is off limits." She said, firmly, and Butcher gives her a curious look. "And why is that, princess?" Butcher asked and Maeve just glares at him.

Suddenly, it clicks with him. "Mystic Shade is your informant, isn't she?" He asked and Maeve averts his gaze and he smiles, knowing he was right. "Fine! Yes, she was the one that gave me this information. But she told me, specifically, that she didn't want to be questioned because this is all she wanted to give." Maeve said and Butcher watches her. "So, please, don't go bothering her." Maeve demanded.

"Well, well, well, didn't know you had such a soft spot for Mystic Shade." Butcher said and Maeve sighs. "We've been in communication for almost a year. Then when she heard about Homelander and all the fucked up things he's done and how I want him gone, she provided this." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look that basically said he knew there was more to it.

"Fine, she was one of the heroes I looked up to when I was a kid, okay! Unlike most of these assholes, she actually cares about people." Maeve said. "Oh, I doubt that." Butcher said. "Doubt it all you want but it's the truth." Maeve said as she digs into her purse and pulls out a little bag. "Here." She said and Butcher takes the bag, unzips it and sees small vials of green liquid.

"What's this?" He asked her. "It's Temp V. One shot makes you a Supe for 24 hours. I mean, they think. It's still in R&D." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look. "Oh, great, so powers, maybe. Maybe my bollocks swell up like footballs. Yeah?" Butcher said, sarcastically. "Payback may be a bunch of fսck holes, but they're strong. And they're dangerous. If you're going against them, you're gonna need it." Maeve warns.

"And what makes you think that me, of all people, would want to turn into one of you?" Butcher asked her as he takes a step closer to her. "This is our best chance to kill Homelander. Don't fսck it up." She said.

(A/n: And here is another peek, this is one of the flashbacks.)

I walk up to the stage as Doctor Vought was at the microphone, talking. Then he turns to me and holds his arm out to me. “Now please welcome the new hero, Mystic Shade!” He said and I push back all of my negative emotions and smile and wave as I walk up to him while the crowd applauded.

I go to Dr. Vought and he shakes my hand then kisses both of my cheeks then leads me to the microphone. Once I get to the microphone, Dr Vought said. “Now, Mystic Shade, will be taking questions.”

And a flood of voices saying over here, over here chanted out and Vought points to a random person. “Yes, you there!” He calls out. “How does it feel to be selected to join by Dr. Vought?” A male voice called out. “Um, it is an incredible opportunity here. And I’m very excited to join.” I replied then more raised hands and voices. Dr Vought pointed out to a different man. 

“When did you first discover your powers?” The second man asked me. “I was about fifteen or sixteen years old when I found out. I guess I was alway born with them it just didn’t develop until I became a teenager.” I replied. “And what are they? I mean, what can you do?” The man asked. “Well, I’m strong, I can move objects without touching them and I can make shields to protect myself and people around me.” I replied and there was a series of ooh’s and aah’s across the crowd. 

Then another round of hands shooting up in the air and Dr Vought points at another hand. "So, are you gonna help out with the war? If so, how does it feel to be the first woman to be out in the field?" The third man asked. "It is something I never would've imagined but I want to help out not just the country but the people who are involved." I said then another man calls out.

​​​​​​"So what's it feel like to achieve everything you hoped for?" He asked and I paused at this. Truth is I didn't achieve anything, this is all a lie. I wanted to scream that out so badly but I couldn't as I stood there frozen. "I-I, uh..." I stammered then Vought comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sure she feels fantastic. She's being very modest right now. Not being used to this kind of attention can make anyone freeze. So let's give a hand for our new hero!" Vought said and there was applause and I give a small, weak smile.

Minutes later, I walk out on the balcony and took in a deep breath then let it out. Being in that ballroom suffocated me. I lean against the stone railings of the balcony and took in some quick breathes until anger rose in my chest and I slam my fists down on it, making the stone crack. "Whoa-ho, remind me not to make you angry." A male voice said, a bit of a laugh in his tone. 

I jumped at this, not expecting anyone out here, and look to my left to see a man, in a army uniform with a long coat, standing some feet away from me. "I'm not in the mood to talk." I grumbled and I look out on the balcony. "I figured. Saw you up on that stage....and well, here..." he said and I look over at him and see him holding a bottle out to me.​​​​​ "You need this more than me."

"Did you steal that from party?" I asked him. "More like borrowing." He said, shrugging, and I chuckled a bit then take the bottle from him. "Thank you." I said and I begin to drink from it. "I'm guessing rough day?" He asked me. “You could say that.” I muttered and I take another drink from the bottle. 

“These Vought parties are never what the public thinks they are. The only good things here are the food, the booze…and the pretty women.” He said and he gives me a flirtatious smile. I giggled a little and smile, which I just realized is my first genuine smile I’ve made in months. “I’m flattered but…I’m married.” I tell him and he has a surprised look on his face.

”I don’t believe that.” He said and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And why is that?” I asked him. “No sane man, especially a husband, would leave you out here on your own.”  He said and I laugh a little again. “Maybe, I wanted to be alone.” I said and he shrugs a little. “You may have a point. But, even so, shouldn’t be out here alone. Some stranger could try to chat you up.” He said. “Like you?” I asked him, smiling, and he chuckles.

”Yeah…” he mutters and we share a small laugh then he holds his hand out to me. “I’m Ben.” He introduces and I take his hand. “(Y/n).” I said as we shake hands. “(Y/n), beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He said and I give a bashful smile to him. “Thank you.” I said then he kisses the back of my hand and I felt my heart leap in my chest.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time, not since I married my husband. 

“So, you happily married?” He asked me and my smile falters. “Judging by that frown, I’m guessing not.” Ben said and I sighed. “Just…going through a tough time right now.” I said. “That’s why I never married, when the tough times come in, there’s nothing to tie you down.” Ben said and I nod at this. “I’m starting to think that’s a good idea.” I said before I drink from the bottle again.

At that moment, we hear the door open behind us and I look over my shoulder to see it was Adam. “There you are.” Adam said as he comes up to me. Then he looks over at Ben and seems surprised. “Oh, I see you’re talking to your teammate.” He said and I furrow my brow. “Huh?” I said and Adam places an arm around my shoulder. “This is Soldier Boy. Your partner in the war.” Adam tells me and I was surprised by this.

I have heard the name Soldier Boy but I didn’t know what he looked like since I was trapped in that lab for the last few months.

I look over at Ben and he gives me a smile. “Surprise?” He asked me. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for not recognizing you, sir.” I said to him. “It’s fine, just don’t go forgetting my face now.” He said, smiling, and I chuckled. “I most certainly will not.” I said and he nods.

”Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure I’m needed in there.” Ben said as he gestures to the door. And I felt a little sad about him leaving, I was kinda enjoying his company. “You two have a good evening.” Ben said as he walks over to the door. “And you as well.” Adam said then Adam turns to me as I look out on the balcony.

”I see you already starting the night off.” Adam said, gesturing to the bottle of champagne in my hands, but I don’t respond as I look over my shoulder in time to see Ben go to the door. It seemed he sensed me and he looks over his shoulder at me then smiles and gives me a wink before he walks in.

My heart absolutely fluttered at this and I felt my face go red before I look back out on the balcony.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #fan fic writing #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #the boys tv #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy #sneak peak

[inkeddownc0ffee]

One sided love, or is the other side just blinded?…

——— Part 1 ——— Part 2 ——— Part 3 ———

Pairing: Best friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson is the readers best friend, but Eddie is finding himself catching feelings for his girl best friend, and can’t help himself but feel jealous when he sees his crush falling for Steve “the hair” Harrington

Warnings: Mentions of drug use

Eddie Munson, your best friend ever sense you left the diapers and onto the toilets, y’all two were practically glued together, never leaving each others side, one of y’all could kill someone and the other would just help hide the body.

It was now rolling onto y’all’s third year as a seniors together, year 84, the year Eddie said would be his, well and yours.

The thing is, you were meant to be graduated already, but u couldn’t watch your best friend be left behind.

So you purposely flunked all your classes. You truly were meant to be top of the class with an amazing high school diploma in your hands with a smile on your face ready to start adult life in 81.

But here you are, 21 and still a senior, sitting on your doorstep with your backpack, waiting for Eddie’s arrival in his new van Wayne helped him get.

Your eyes were focused on the cracks on the pavement of your driveway when the gleam of the shining van covered it. You shot your head up and smiled as Eddie rolled down his window while banging his head to Master of Puppets, smirking at you.

“Hop in my passenger princess, don’t want your seat to get cold!” You laughed, Eddie always teased u with that name. You ran to the side of the van, opening the door and shoving yourself into the passenger seat, Eddie turning down the radio.

“Huh, doesn’t smell like a drug deal in here” you said sarcastically. “Couldn’t do that to the pretty princess, got it to smell like her beautiful, huge castle.” He said as he pointed at the little tree hanging from the review mirror labeled “Morning Fresh”. You rolled your eyes but chuckled.

“My house isn’t that big” 

“Seriously? Not big, it’s two stories, you know how many people I would kill to live there!” Eddie said with raised eyebrows and a gaping smile. You elbowed him making him chuckle.

“Alright, Alright, I’m sorry for speaking the truth your highness.” Before you could argue, he turned his music almost full volume and left your driveway, bobbing his head and singing the words in a weird demonic tone. You couldn’t help but laugh, making Eddie’s heart melt.

He loved your laugh

It always lit up something inside him, don’t even get him started when u smile with those pearly whites of yours, always made him want to kiss your sweet lips more than he already did.

If it isn’t already obvious enough, Eddie Munson was head over heels in love with you, he couldn’t help it at all.

The trip to school finally made its arrival into Eddies usual parking spot not to far from the entrance from the school, turning his keys to turn off the car and sighing as the music disappeared from his ears.

“Don’t worry my love, we will continue later” Eddie said dramatically as he took the disk out of the song player and kissed it.

“You should join the theater club with how dramatic you can be” Eddie smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, I know I would make an amazing Juliet.” Eddie cleared his throat.

“Oh my Romeo, I’ll never love someone as much as I love you” Eddie said in the most girliest voice he could concur.

You laughed loudly as u left the vehicle. “Oh my god, I would pay an extra 40 bucks to get front row if u ever played Juliet” Eddie bowed down. “Thank you, thank you, your praise is appreciated”

The smile was practically stolen from his face as he saw your attention leave him and to the car pulling at the entrance of the school.

Oh great, it was him.

A/N: Sorry part 1 isn’t long! It’s like 3 AM where I’m at and I want to publish this tonight, so part 2 is way longer than this, I hope y’all have a great morning/afternoon/night, part 2 is out now!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #reader insert #st4 #stranger things 4