#but eventually she just straight up tells him how it is in an attempt to get him to TALK to her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maxtermind · 6 months

Note

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing?

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace.

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them.

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while."

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her."

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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appleblueberry-pie · 6 months

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Hii!! Can I request for a yandere!Gojo x loser!gf where Reader constantly needs reassurance cause she’s afraid of him leaving?? Sorry if this is a weird request😭

Shut up, this was a genius idea. Idc, i'll do weird requests.

Nobody Has To Understand.

How he found out about you, you don't know.

It started over the internet. He was one of your social media best friends and you didn't have anyone else that you spoke to as much as you did with him.

When he first started talking to you, you thought he was a bot because he was way too fucking gorgeous to just be interested in someone like you.

You sucked. Literally, you were a weirdo, but he stuck around.

He stalked you on all of your platforms and by some luck, happened to live in Japan in the same town as you did(well, one of his apartments in Japan was in a similar area).

So you two met up when he convinced you to have a drink at a cafe with him that was close to the area you both lived in. It took a lot of begging and pleading to get you to leave the house and meet him because it just felt like a humongous prank that you weren't in on and/or he'd flank out on you because you weren't what he'd expect.

But he constantly remained patient and kept attempting to convince you to meet up with him because he wanted to see you in person soooo bad.

So you actually showered and actually wore clean clothes(comfortable and loose clothing that wasn't entirely appropriate for meeting a possible new friend) and tried to look as presentable as possible.

You trying your hardest with your appearance felt like a blow to your already low ego when he showed up looking straight out of a magazine. His clothes were casual, but it looked like expensive material. What he used on his face to make it shine the way it did probably cost a lot of money, and that smile.

You hated how attractive he looked. But he couldn't have been happier to finally see you in person.

He felt so pulled towards you and your bland aura. Like he could fill in the spots that you couldn't, and that way, you two would be a perfect pair. He saw so much potential in having a possible relationship with you, it wasn't funny.

You were extremely nervous and messed with your own slides underneath the table. Satoru was comfortable and confident enough to take the reins that entire day.

Ever since that first meeting, he's been paying for everything on your behalf. He paid for all of your meals, paid for your ubers, paid for your rent eventually, paid for your groceries, everything.

He knew he loved you. He loved your bedhead, loved your puffy face when you woke up from your sixth nap of the day, loved how warm you always felt, loved your voice and everything in between.

He never had a problem with telling you how much he loved you either.

It felt so unreal and it made you paranoid when he confessed his feelings to you that one night. It was the day after your birthday and he promised to make you the happiest girl in the world. And he said in order to give you what you deserve, he felt he needed to give all of himself to you as well. It didn't click in your head at first, but when it did, you felt as happy as you did scared.

Why did he love you so much? Put so much time into you and so much energy into your needs? Was he going to leave randomly when he's had his fill with you?

He could always read you like a book and automatically reassured what he wants out of you, which was just you. He just wanted you to be the best you that you could be, and that's all he needs to keep giving.

You stopped asking ever since.

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

Just Pretend-Twenty Three

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: PHASE II comes to an end! Strap in everyone, PHASE III is going to be a smutty ride. Also, please listen to Just Pretend on a constant loop for this chapter. ESPECIALLY AT THE THIRD PERSON POV SECTION. Then you all will finally understand what I meant about 2:23.

PLEASE READ MY JOLLY TWO PART FIC FIKA BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO CHAPTER-24!

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses

JOLLY

As I stood in front of my mirror, I did my best to brush down the stray hairs so it could lay straight with the others. Tonight was important, for some more than others, but regardless, we all wanted to look our best. Noah was more nervous than any of us, only because in his mind he had more to lose.

“What if she doesn't show up?” He asked this morning during breakfast, moving his scrambled eggs around with his fork.

Jesse rubbed his shoulder. “She will, Noah. You have to stop doubting her. She’ll be there tonight.”

My phone went off in my hand and my heart skipped a beat when I peaked at the name.

I hope you have fun at your party tonight. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in bed sick. Had to close down early.

Attached was a picture of what seemed like her bedroom; a television perched up on a black wall with a wide variety of plants around it. She was watching Harry Potter; I immediately noticed which one and what scene.

Not wanting to overthink, I quickly snapped a picture of myself in the mirror before sending it to her.

“Now why are you, out of all people, smiling at your phone?” Nicholas wondered as he leaned against the door frame of my bedroom.

Sliding my phone back into the pocket of my black jeans, I stared at him unamused.

“Oh,” his eyes lit up. “Is it-?”

“Shut up,” I grumbled while gathering up my things.

Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Almost ready?”

“Yeah. How’s Noah?” I wondered while we descended the stairs and came to a halt in the living room.

“He’s okay, I think,” Nicholas sighed while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Nervous, though. We tried telling him that Y/N will be there but you know him; he won’t believe it until his eyes set on her.”

I nodded. “I’ll talk to him and meet you at the car.”

Making my way towards the master suite which was secluded off the back hallway, I could hear Noah muttering to himself. The privacy of where this bedroom was located was one of the main reasons we let Noah have it. It was on a different floor than the rest of us so when Y/N eventually moved in, they could feel like it was just the two of them.

With a soft knock on his open door, Noah peered up from burning holes into the ground.

“Hey, are you ready?”

He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his phone lying next to him on the bed, the Calm app opened and playing, but his knee continued to bounce at a rapid pace. His once-styled hair was now a disheveled mess thanks to his hands running through it.

Noah motioned to his phone. “I’m listening to the new section of “calming your mind when you feel like you’re going to ruin everything.”

“Is that the real name of the section?” I crossed my arms over my chest

He hesitated. “No”

I pinched my eyes shut with a sigh. “Noah-.”

“I’m fine,” he reassured me by rising to his feet. “I just needed to collect my thoughts.”

“Are you nervous about the release?”

“No,” Noah fidgeted with the silver chain around his wrist. “What if she-.”

I pushed myself off the door and stepped into his bedroom, laying my hands on his shoulders; they were shaking.

“Y/N will be there. She confirmed it with me and Nicholas. Stop worrying, alright? Everything will be fine.”

“I know. I’m excited, trust me. I just want tonight to go right. For the album and Y/N. She deserves a good man, and I want to be that.”

“You are, Noah. Look what you’ve done here,” I motioned to his room. “You set up her vanity, you bought her plants, you bought her cat a fucking cat tree that takes up half the wall in the living room. You’re doing everything right.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Y/N thinks I’m pretty awesome. I am awesome, to be honest,” he chuckled.

“And there he is!” I patted his shoulder. “You didn’t go anywhere. You’re simply trying to navigate the new you with another person. Trust yourself. Trust Y/N.”

With a firm nod, I motioned to his outfit. “Ready to go?”

Noah ran a hand through his hair, still getting used to the short length.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look okay?”

I peered down at his choice of outfit. It was from the new stack of clothes he bought earlier in the week. A snug black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showcasing his tattoos. The black dress pants were snug as well. A simple outfit but enough for Y/N.

“Maybe we should stay at Matt’s or even Malcolm’s place tonight,” I joked.

He rolled his eyes while playfully pushing my shoulder as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Oh, did she finally decide to be your date tonight?” Noah tried to peer at my phone.

I turned it away from him. “No, actually she’s home in bed sick.”

He stepped into his closet only to reappear with a pair of shoes in his hand. “We can bring her some soup. Or some of those Swedish desserts she made. Fuck, those were good.”

“Are you ready yet?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Everyone is waiting on us.”

Noah patted himself down as he went over his mental checklist. “Shit, I need cologne. Two minutes.”

I reread Malcolm's text message as he ran into his adjoined bathroom.

Malcolm: We’ll be a little late. Y/N’s getting ready now but we’ll be there.

Me: See you guys soon.

“Ready?” Noah asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

I nodded while pocketing my phone again. “Yep.”

MALCOLM

“I fucking hate this shit.”

Stepping out of the hallway bathroom, I wandered down the long hallway towards the living room where I noticed Chase standing in front of the mirror next to the front door; an undone tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Why the fuck do I have to wear a tie?” He grumbled when he saw my reflection in the mirror.

I chuckled before slinking up behind him and gently turning him to face me. “It’s a big night, Chase. The least we can do is dress up for our friends.”

He let out a deep sigh but nodded. “I know. I’m just not a suit and tie kind of guy.”

I paused mid-tying his tie before gazing at his black suit with a red shirt underneath. Tossing the tie onto the couch, I unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, the ink of his chest piece peeking through with the gold chain he wore all the time.

“Babe, I love you,” Chase started. “But we don’t have time for that.”

Ignoring him, I smoothed down the front of his jacket. “Leave the jacket open like this. It looks better.”

He pointed to my burgundy three-piece suit. “You’ve been waiting for a moment to break this one out.”

I snorted while tying my long auburn hair back into a bun. “Damn straight.”

Chase laid a gentle kiss on my lips before he retreated into the kitchen to pop open a Celsius. “Did you text Jolly?”

“Yeah. The plan is still set. We should be getting there before their song plays,” I said.

“Cool.”

Chase nodded but I could tell something else was weighing on him.

“What’s going on?” I asked while sitting against the back of the couch.

“I’m worried about tonight,” he admitted after a long beat. “It’s been a long time coming. After all the bullshit and miscommunication, I just want things to go perfectly. She deserves that.”

“It will, Chase. But it’s not up to us. We can get her there but the rest is on them,” I said.

He ran a tattooed hand over his buzzed head. “I know, I know. How is she doing, anyway?”

“I think she’s okay,” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Nervous, though.”

Chase tossed the empty can into the recycling before leaning against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you think she’ll love what Noah did? With the house and everything?”

“Of course, she will. Noah-.”

“Now what are you two handsome boys talking about?” The clicking of heels against the floor echoed in our apartment.

Both Chase and I turned our attention to her and he let out a low whistle. Y/N stood in front of us, decked out in full nines for tonight. The dress she wore gilded along the floor as she walked farther into the room. There was a long slit on the left side of her dress, showcasing the newest tattoo she got on the last tour with Joe. As she gave us a full 360, we marveled at the low-cut back of the dress that showcased her entire back and the large snake tattoo. With the thin straps, the tattoos on her arms were on full display tonight as well.

“Oh, sweets! Look at you.”

Y/N brushed her palms against the smooth material of her red dress. “Does it look okay? Is it too revealing? I feel like there may be too much boob with this dress and the open back-.”

“Y/N,” I stood straighter. “You look absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Noah will love it; you know how much he loves the color red.”

Chase agreed as he left a soft kiss on the side of her head, careful not to mess up the perfect curls. “He’s gonna pass out the minute he sees you.”

“I don’t think so,” she tried to argue, wringing her hands together.

“Sweets, you are the moon and he's constantly in your orbit. It’s just you two. All the time,” I said while grasping her hands, and holding them to my chest.

Y/N’s gaze darted back and forth between mine, the darkness of her eyeshadow making the color of her eyes pop, and she finally nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I do look good in this.”

“There she is!” Chase hollered while handing over her jacket.

“Fuck the record! You’re gonna be the belle of the ball,” I cheered.

We all shared a laugh but as soon as we were about to leave, Salem came bounding down the hall, the bell of his collar ringing loudly.

“Remind me to ask Noah why he chose the one collar with the loudest bell,” Chase grumbled.

Ignoring him, I watched as Y/N bent down low when Salem brushed himself against her leg; his way of saying goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’m going to see your dad.” She mused while kissing his head, not caring if she messed up her deep red lipstick.

When Salem meowed, I peered over to Chase, who was already watching the two of them with his own fond smile. I snaked my hand behind his neck to pull him in for a kiss, one that always took our breath away.

“I love you,” I muttered against his lips.

Chase rarely ever smiled, only for me and Y/N, so when he did now my heart fluttered in my chest like it always did.

“I love you too,” he placed another kiss on my lips. “Alright, let’s go. We don’t want the belle being late to her own ball.”

Y/N walked out of the apartment before us however before I could follow, Chase held me back.

“I’ll bet you $5 they meet in the middle of the fucking room like some rom-com.”

I scoffed while patting his chest. “I’ll bet you $5 they start making out 15 minutes in.”

“You’re on.”

We sealed our deal with another kiss before Y/N’s voice rang out in the front yard, the stars and moon casting her in an angelic glow.

“Come on lovebirds! I can’t be late! My prince is waiting!”

THIRD PERSON POV

Y/N smiled politely as she maneuvered her way through the crowd of familiar faces. The House of Blues was packed tonight with people here to support Bad Omens. Their third album was minutes away from being released for the public and for everyone in this room to hear. It was a huge, long-awaited event so they threw this party together for their closest friends and other musicians that were signed to the same label as them.

“Y/N!” A somewhat familiar face beamed with their arms outstretched.

Y/N cursed when she couldn’t remember this girl's name although she did remember they were signed to the same label.

“Hi,” Y/N smiled. “It’s so good to see you-.”

Chase muttered low in her ear. “Reign. Guitarist for Tonight We Sleep.

“Reign!” Y/N nodded.

“I heard Hollow Souls was on tour with nothing, nowhere. How was that?” Reign wondered.

“It was a great time. But we’re thankful to be back home for a few months,” Malcolm answered.

Can you see yourself?

Through the bruises when the makeup melts?

In the dark when all the powers out?

Everybody talks and gets around.

As Malcolm and Chase continued their conversation with Reign, Y/N froze when Noah's melodic voice echoed through the speakers of the venue. The richness of it was something she’d never heard from him. She had only heard two of their new songs so far, this one was new to her. She couldn’t help but feel frozen as she let the beat of the music hit low in her chest.

Across the room, Noah was doing his best to remain professional as someone who was a friend of a friend kept commenting on how wonderful the first song sounded.

“I love what I’ve heard so far!”

Noah nodded with a firm smile. “Thank you. Also, thank you for coming out tonight. Means a lot to me and the rest of the guys.”

After politely excusing himself, he found Jolly off in a different spot of the venue, typing away on his phone.

“Any luck?” He wondered.

Jolly rested a hand on Noah’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’ll be here, man. You need to stop stressing out about it and enjoy the party. We made it. We’re finally here after writing this album for the last two years.”

Noah stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants and nodded while keeping his head down, dark tendrils of hair falling into his face. “I know.”

Only a few feet behind the two men stood Chase and Y/N who were busy chatting with Bryan and Matt.

“I really like the new look, Y/N,” Matt smiled as he motioned to her hair.

She smiled with a red hue to her cheeks and tucked a strand behind her ear. “Thank you. I thought I was due for one.”

“How was tour?” Bryan asked.

Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours

Why I never got a say, never got a choice?

Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours

And why I never ever got a fucking say?

Chase’s conversation with the other two fell on deaf ears as Y/N once again stood frozen as the familiar lyrics touched her ears. The haunting memory of when she first heard it in her car all those months ago was still fresh, like an aching wound that hadn’t freshly healed yet. She wouldn’t hold that lapse in judgment over Noah, not when they both were trying to heal from dark moments of their pasts.

Quietly excusing herself from the guys, Y/N wandered over to the mini bar, the ends of her red dress flowing behind her.

“Hi, what can I get you?” The young man with bright green eyes behind the bar asked.

“Dr. Pepper, please,” she smiled.

As she waited for her drink, Y/N leaned her elbow on the bar and rested her chin in her palm. She’d been here for almost thirty minutes and still no sign of Noah. She knew he was here; he had to be.

Outside in the front entry of the venue, Noah tried to pay attention to the story someone was rambling on about but the only thing in his mind was Y/N and if she was here yet. The anticipation of seeing her again was palpable, almost weighing him down, but he couldn’t allow himself to fall back into that state of anxiety he was in earlier. He had to heed Jolly’s words and trust that Y/N would show up.

I know I'm gonna die in this bed I made.

And I'm drowning in a dream that I can't escape.

If I could wake up I'd hesitate.

Politely excusing himself, Noah decided that he needed a glass of water to help with the sudden dryness of his mouth. There were people everywhere, always stopping him to chat. While he loved the praise and support for the new album, he only had one focus since he stepped foot into this building.

“Noah!”

Cursing under his breath, he turned swiftly to see an old friend, someone he hadn’t spoken to in a few years. At this moment, Noah was suddenly wishing he kept the album release party to strict friends and family.

“Dude this album is sick! The cover is amazing! What inspired it?”

Noah did his best to make it seem like he was interested in the guy’s questions but truth be told, he really couldn’t give a fuck.

“Uh, I was browsing through Pinterest,” he answered honestly while gazing over the man’s shoulder.

“That’s so cool! I love that. You know-.”

A sudden flash of red caught Noah’s attention so he quickly patted the guy's shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me.”

Noah made it all of a few steps before someone else stopped him. “Noah!”

He stopped and rolled his eyes while internally groaning. He could not feel any lower at this moment as he began to feel like this was another moment set up for doom.

But that glimmer of hope in his chest sparked when he spotted those familiar auburn curls and the shaved head that belonged to the two members of Hollow Souls. So before this new conversation could start, Noah once again politely excused himself and reached Chase and Malcolm in a few quick strides.

“Hey, guys. Is Y/N-?”

Chase nodded. “She’s here, don’t worry. She was just with us but someone dragged her away for a minute.”

Cursing, Noah ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the third time in a matter of minutes. It was the only thing he could do to keep his hands busy so they wouldn’t shake.

“Can you tell her I’m looking for her?” He asked.

“Of course,” it was Malcolm’s turn to nod.

In the middle of the large circle of people, Y/N was smiling as Jolly was telling her all about his last few weeks and frequent stops somewhere.

“She sounds lovely, Jolly. I can’t wait to meet her,” she took a small sip of her soda.

Jolly shrugged while fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “It’s still early. Who knows if she’s even interested.”

Y/N rested a hand on his arm. “Don’t doubt yourself, Jolly. She gave you her number, right?”

When he nodded, she continued. “Trust me, she’s interested.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before Y/N excused herself, needing to get a refill of her soda. It was a long night ahead and needed all the caffeine she could get. The clicking of her heels on the marbled floors echoed over the loud chatter of everyone but soon halted when the next few beautifully haunting melodies of Noah’s voice sang throughout the room.

I made another mistake, thought I could change.

Thought I could make it out.

Promises break, need to hear you say.

You're gonna keep it now.

Memories of her and Noah in the backseat of his car flooded Y/N’s mind and she let her eyes flutter shut, gently touching her lips. It was as if she could remember the way he tasted that night after the pier and fireworks.

I miss the way you say my name.

The way you bend, the way you break.

Your makeup running down your face.

The way you fuck, the way you taste.

That night didn’t end the way either of them wanted it to. But tonight would be different. There was no way Y/N would be leaving

“I don't understand where she’d be. How haven't I seen her yet?” Noah grumbled while fidgeting with the silver chain around his neck.

Nicholas chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “Relax, Noah. You’ll find each other soon. There’s a lot of people here and chances are she got caught up with some of them.”

Folio reached them with a bright smile. “I just ran into Y/N. You’re not going to believe-.”

“Where?” Noah’s eyes widened.

“By the bathrooms. She looks good, Noah. She cu-”

He didn’t bother waiting for Folio to finish before he pushed his way through the crowd toward the bathrooms.

You couldn't wait, wait, wait.

For the day, day, day I lost.

It's such a shame, shame, shame.

You couldn't change, look what it cost, ohh.

“You haven’t found him yet?” Chase asked as he, Malcolm, and Y/N sat on one of the couches in the venue.

“No,” she sighed while fidgeting with the silver chain around her neck. “I’ve seen everyone else but him. I don’t understand where he could be. It’s like he’s avoiding me.”

“No,” Malcolm sternly shook his head. “Don’t think like that. He’s here and looking for you.”

“How come I haven’t seen him then? This place isn't huge, Malcolm.”

“But it’s packed with people, he probably got caught mingling. Just relax. Have another Dr. Pepper, will you?” Chase motioned to the minibar.

Reluctantly, Y/N nodded while rising to her feet and making her way over there for another drink.

I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell.

It's hard enough being alone with myself.

I don't know how long I'll be holding on.

I know you tried your hardest, I know that you meant well.

But you pushed me to the edge and I slipped, and then I fell.

I don't know how long I'll be holding on.

“Everything alright?” Jesse asked Noah, who was starting to look defeated.

“I’ve talked to everyone in this fucking room,” he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve done enough mingling for the night.”

“I’ll get us a couple of drinks,” Jesse offered.

Noah waved him off. “No, I’ll get it.”

Both Noah and Y/N were slowly starting to lose hope that they would find each other, all while the rest of their friends were worried the two soulmates would miss their mark. Two songs left and if things didn’t go according to plan, everything would have been for nothing.

Y/N leaned against the wall in the secluded hallway, alone for the first time all night as she gathered her thoughts. Her feet were killing her from the heels and her cheeks ached from all the fake smiling tonight. She understood she needed to mingle with people tonight but frankly, she was over it. The only thing Y/N wanted was to find Noah; her heart and soul yearned for him.

I'm taking it slowly, you'd never know.

How quick it gets lonely here at the top.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn.

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone.

Snapping her gaze up from the floor, she let Noah’s deep voice sink deep into her bones as she sucked in a breath.

No God, no religion.

Just bad, bad decisions.

No God, no religion.

Just bad, bad decisions.

“No,” she shuddered, remembering that night all those months ago in that hotel room.

It should have been a great memory. At the end of their evening that night, there was a feeling in her gut that said, “no,” due to the fears of the past and the weight of burdens others cast onto her. When she walked away from him in that hotel room, Y/N believed it was what started the downward spiral into the dark parts of her life.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know, all I know

Is bad, bad decisions

The image of Noah sitting in the airport the morning after was something Y/N tried so hard to forget. It haunted her for a long time after, all those days locked away in her bedroom as she talked with Keaton. In those times of darkness, he seemed to be the only one to give her an answer without ever speaking.

“I won’t walk away from him again, Keaton,” Y/N muttered while grasping the chain around her neck. “I’ll stay until morning.”

I'm only human, but I'm afraid.

I may never learn from all my mistakes.

Don't know what I'm doing but that's okay.

'Cause I like it that way.

Another feeling in her heart that said, “Yes.”

Noah wasn’t like anyone else, he claimed to be someone mundane, with nothing to offer when in fact, he offered her the entire world that night with just a smile and those shining auburn eyes.

Bitter ends to the nights.

I'm along for the ride.

Out of breath, out of time.

Everything has a price.

Bitter ends to the nights.

I'm along for the ride.

Out of breath, out of time.

Everything has a price.

When people choose to be brave in love instead of being the puppets of fear, everything seems to get better. It became gradual. Y/N decided to make the right choice, the one she believed in.

Pushing herself off the wall, she forced her way through the crowd ignoring people who tried to get her attention. The vision of Chase and Malcolm a few feet in front of her was her current target until the siren-like voice of Noah made her stop completely in the middle of the room.

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.

Noah immediately sat straighter on the couch, nearly dropping the glass of water, as those lyrics rang out into the vast space of the room.

No, they were supposed to be together at this moment. Not far apart.

This was their song.

So will you wait me out?

Or will you drown me out?

So will you wait me out?

Or will you drown me out?

Everyone around Y/N faded to white noise as she stared blankly ahead toward Chase and Malcolm, who watched their sister with confused expressions. Something about the way Noah’s voice sang with so much emotion told her everything she needed to know.

This was their song.

I can wait for you at the bottom.

I can stay away if you want me to.

I can wait for years if I gotta.

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.

Noah bolted up from the couch. “I need to find her.”

Michael and Orie shared a look before the former stood slowly. “Noah-.”

“NO!” His head snapped towards Michael. “We needed to be together for this song. It’s not-. It won't feel right unless she’s with me.”

Neither man made comments on the way Noah’s voice cracked, so close to breaking down. Instead, they nodded and agreed to help him find Y/N.

I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face.

And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same.

So many different memories flashed in Y/N’s mind as she let Noah’s voice sing to her; sing their song to her.

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out?

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out?

The first meeting when he stepped off the bus. Their day at the zoo and the wolf stuffed animal he bought her. The day at the beach where she told him it couldn’t rain all the time.

It seemed as if the rain had finally seized.

I can wait for you at the bottom

I can stay away if you want me to

I could wait for years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

Y/N remembered her birthday and how Noah bought her the necklace and bracelet she was currently wearing.

We'll try again.

When we're not so different.

We will make amends.

'Til then I'll just pretend.

There was something there in the distorted part of the song, something that Y/N immediately caught and let out an audible gasp, hand covering her mouth. Another memory plagued her existence; the pier day.

“Noah! Stop!” She giggled while wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What?” Noah stopped spinning. “Let you go?”

Y/N shrieked as he nearly dropped her. “No, you idiot! Don’t let me go!”

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning.

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

“Sweets,” Chase tentatively approached Y/N, resting a hand on her elbow. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, eyes brimming with tears, as she stared up at Malcolm and Chase while stumbling over her words. “I-I-I have to find Noah. I need to-I can’t.”

Malcolm nodded. “Ok, we will. Let’s split up and-.”

As if the stars were finally aligning in perfect harmony, something told Y/N to glance to her left, that pull in her heart she never ignored when it came to Noah vibrating with so much energy it made her choke on a breath.

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

The music seized for a few seconds as Noah let out a choked breath when his amber eyes finally landed on her, their gazes locking. Everything and everyone seemed to fall away from them into the depths below their feet. His palms began to sweat as his ear rang loudly. His pulse rate quickened as his heart began to beat so hard he felt it in his throat.

Y/N and Noah were the only two that mattered at this moment and right when Folio’s drumming picked up again in the song, they pushed their way through the crowd toward each other.

I can wait for you at the bottom

I can stay away if you want me to

I could wait four years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

Y/N couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she maneuvered her way past people who continued to try and get her attention. None of them mattered. The only one that did was now less than a few feet away from her; their souls vibrating for the connection it drastically missed.

We'll try again

When we're not so different

We will make amends

They were no longer different. Y/N and Noah grew immensely with their time apart and now they were finally ready to become one.

'Til then I'll just pretend.

There was no more pretending anymore. Every bad, good, ugly, and beautiful that these two went through was worth it for this moment. This is what all of their friends and they had been waiting for.

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

Y/N would stay until morning; every morning.

Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

Noah was worthy.

READER

My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my throat when I came to a halt in front of Noah. Even though he looked different, he was still my Noah.

“Hi-.”

My greeting was cut off when his large hand wrapped behind my neck to yank me towards him, his lips crashing against mine. Very quickly, my hands grasped at his shirt to feel if he was actually in front of me and not another dream.

But his lips were real. The taste of his tongue was real as it forced its way into my mouth to mold against mine. I moaned into the kiss when his hands grasped at my backside as if he wanted to commit every last curve to memory. The other kisses we’ve shared were intense, but this was the kiss that sent my mind spinning. I moaned again, leaning into his embrace and meeting his passion. My teeth caught his bottom lip and tugged as I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair and our bodies were pressed against each other.

The smell of his cologne, the soft and peachy scent of his conditioner was dizzying and the butterflies danced in my stomach.

When he nibbled on my bottom lip before devouring my mouth once again with his tongue, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips into his. I missed every single part of him and my soul was screaming its thanks for finding its mate once again.

Noah’s lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. They parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. I could faintly taste the mint from his toothpaste and apple cider he must have drank earlier.

My eyes were half closed and I had a feeling Noah's eyes were as well because of how focused this kiss was, as if he was burning it into his memory. Almost like he was afraid I would vanish; slip through his fingertips as they dug into the material of my dress.

No, never again.

Noah nudged his nose against mine, and our mouths fell lazily together, already soft and open. I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, fingers carding through his hair as we breathed each other in. I could taste our shared breath, and feel the thud of our combined heartbeat.

I wanted to open my eyes to get a better look at his too-dark eyebrows. The freckles that peppered his nose and cheeks. I needed to admire the new crazy, vampire hairline. I desperately wanted to observe all of him. Burn it into memory.

I recalled at that moment that this wasn’t the end. No, this was the beginning and I could always bear some witness. My mouth was beginning to tire.

Noah’s kisses were all-absorbing like he was drawing something out of me with soft little jabs of his chin. The stubble was gone, much to my dismay, and I ran my hands down over his broad chest, nails scraping along the silver chain across his neck, something I noticed when I finally pulled away and opened my eyes.

It mirrored the one that hung on my neck.

Peering up through my lashes, I was finally able to drink in the sight of Noah and his kiss-bruised lips. His pupils were blown wide as his large hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing the lone tear that fell.

“Hi,” Noah breathed.

I couldn't help but giggle while wrapping my arms around him. “Hi.”

His eyes scanned my face while still holding my face. “You’re here. You’re real.”

“Were you expecting a ghost?” I teased with a raised brow.

“No, no I just-,” he trailed off with a shake of his head.

“I know,” I squeezed him. “I’m here.”

“Let’s go somewhere where we can talk?” Noah suggested.

“Please.”

I let him link our fingers together, bringing my hand to his lips to leave soft kisses against each knuckle before wrapping an arm around me to lead me outside. As if he couldn’t believe I was in his embrace, Noah kissed my cheek a few times, causing a fit of laughter to echo in the room.

I did my best to ignore Chase and Malcom when we walked past them, the latter handing the former some cash.

JESSE

Friends, friends of friends all disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, and found each other a few feet away.

Noah and Y/N broke apart from their kiss engulfed in one another.

What a man like Noah will store up in his ghostly heart no amount of fire or freshness can be challenged. He tried very hard not to dwell on the past but oftentimes found himself there. The past few months, I noticed my friend trying to move on from the stories that haunted him.

Noah wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Y/N, himself, and hell even the band. His life had been confused and disordered since I met him, yet a light and new spark of glory came breaking through that concrete surface.

I looked at them both as they took slow strides across the room, towards the glass doors that led to the back deck of The House of Blues. Noah was looking down at Y/N as she talked, her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear followed up and down as if each speech was an arrangement of notes that would never be played again.

Y/N’s face was happy and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes, and a bright passionate mouth. I could tell there was excitement in her voice by the way Noah was grinning from ear to ear, fingers tangling in her new locks.

He was so beautifully whipped and I couldn’t be more pleased. I fucking knew it would work out.

Glancing across the room towards our larger group of friends; our family and we all shared a nod and a smile.

Finally.

With that, I slunk off in the direction of the cocktail table, the only place in the garden where a single man could linger without looking purposeless and alone.

READER

As soon as we stepped outside, I tied my jacket closer to my chest while Noah led me to a bench. Once we were seated, his arm pulled me closer to him, his lips brushing along my hairline.

“I’ve missed you, angel.”

I leaned into him while grazing my fingers against the back of his neck. “I missed you too, Noah. I also love your haircut.”

He went rigid. “Are-are you sure? I know how much you loved the long hair but I felt like I needed to see the back of my neck again.”

I reassured him with a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I think your long hair will always be my favorite but this is nice too. It suits you. Reminds me of Levi.”

“You caught that?” Noah chuckled.

“Oh immediately,” I brushed away the strands that fell into his eyes. “You know how much of a sucker I am for Captain Levi. But honestly, you look wonderful, mochi.”

He scrunched his face. “I still give off the mochi vibe for you?”

“You’re mochi, you will always be my little mochi,” I cooed while pinching his cheeks.

Noah grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips. “I don’t want to be called that, by anyone but you. Just you.”

“Good, because the nickname stays,” I smiled.

It was his turn to run his fingers through my hair, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

“You cut and dyed your hair?”

Now it was me who felt nervous being assessed by his eyes and I shifted next to him. “Yeah, I felt like I needed a change. I’m sorry if it’s not as flattering as before but I-”

He immediately hushed my words with a gentle kiss on my lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

My hands were sprawled over his chest and it was then that I noticed the glimmer of a silver chain under the moonlight from above. I tilted my head at it when I noticed how familiar it looked.

“Wait,” I grasped his necklace. “Is this?”

“Uh, yeah,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “When I bought your set for your birthday, I bought myself a set as well. You’re wearing yours?”

Immediately I lifted my wrist to his face while showing the necklace with the other. “I haven’t taken them off since I found them in my dresser drawer. The day of my live stream.”

His fingers grazed down the side of my neck, over my collarbone to fiddle with my necklace. “I know. I noticed it right away.”

We sat in silence for a quick beat but I could tell something was weighing heavily on Noah’s mind, his eyes cast down to not meet my gaze. I lifted his chin with a knuckle to force him to look at me.

“What are you thinking about?” I wondered.

His almond eyes glistened. “I know you only heard a few of the songs so far but I need to be honest with you and apologize if some of these songs hit a nerve. I wrote a few of them when I was really upset. Bad Decisions especially.”

I linked our fingers together to rest them on my lap. “I know.”

“I needed to get through whatever we were doing and going through. I don’t want to upset you or anything.”

“No, Noah. You didn’t. I should have considered your feelings when I pushed you away that night. None of that was right, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize just how much you mean to me. I’ve always been yours, Noah, and I'm sorry I made you go through that.”

His brows furrow while shaking his head. “Angel, it’s not all on you. Listen, I’m moving past the anger and frustration. All the fear and panic. I’m trying to look at things more healthily. I accept your apology. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms. We both have had a lot to work through. I was talking to my therapist and she told me that acceptance of things we cannot change is the first step.“

“Wait,” I blinked while turning my body to face him. “Your therapist?”

“Uh, yeah,” he ran a hand over his chin, suddenly nervous.

“Noah, that’s amazing. I’m proud that you’re talking to someone. I am too. My therapist, Dr. Poulos, is wonderful. She’s been helping me a lot.”

Now it was him who blinked while shaking his head. “Hang on. What’s your therapist's name?”

I pursed my lips. “Dr. Poulos.”

“The small office on W. 9th Street? It has that new cafe next to it?”

I nodded slowly, still not understanding. “Yeah, I still have to try their coffee. But I’m not following.”

“Y/N, we've been seeing the same therapist,” Noah informed with a light chuckle.

My eyes widened. “No way.”

“I swear. She has that dying plant-.”

“On the shelf behind her chair!” I finished while pointing a finger, my own fit of giggles filtering into the night air.

“Do you think she knew that we were talking about each other?” Noah asked.

“She had to! There’s no way she didn’t,” I said, still laughing, and ended up leaning against the bench to gaze up at the stars. “It seemed the universe kept trying to keep us together in our time apart.”

Noah mimicked my actions. “I think so too.”

Neither of us said anything for a long moment, enjoying the quiet of the night air with the subtle noise from the party inside. Neither of us was in a rush to go back in, simply enjoying our time together.

“Can I be vulnerable with you right now?” I said suddenly, breaking the silence, while turning my head to face him.

Noah gazed over to me, eyes filled with love. “Always, angel.”

“She asked me why I loved you.”

His brows peaked with interest. “Oh, what did you tell her?”

I only thought about my answer for a brief moment, figuring out the best way to let out everything I feel about him. “I love you for many things; your passions, your love, your friendships, and brotherhood. Your beauty and nature. I despised the pain you went through.”

Sitting farther up, I traced my fingers over the exposed tattoos on his forearms. “I love you so deeply, so incredibly much, that I wanted to find a way to come back to you despite my condition, and past keeping me in fear.”

It was true. My endometriosis had hindered me for years. Trey made me believe that no man would stay with me because of it; especially Noah. He wanted a family and I was keeping him from that.

But never once did Noah make me feel that way. He made me feel as if he would be by my side no matter what we decide to do in the future.

I let out a shaky breath before continuing. “Ever since I was diagnosed with endometriosis, the fear of whether I'd ever be able to have kids kept me from finding the happiness I deserved. So I settled for what I thought I deserved until you came into my life.”

Noah’s fingers grazed over the back of my neck.

“You showed me that my condition doesn't have to mean the end for my future. I have choices. So thank you for that.”

He brushed his lips over my forehead and I grasped at his sides. “Of course, angel. Can I be honest with you?”

Peering up at him, I nodded. “Please.”

“Would kids be nice?” Noah licked his lips. “Yes. But if it’s not for us, then I’m okay with it. As long as I have you and Salem, then that’s all I need.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because if I can’t give you a child, you might say you’re fine now but who knows years down the road.”

He cupped my cheeks now. “I promise you. You’re it for me, angel.”

Noah then brushed back the hair from my face, tracing a finger over my jawline before speaking again.

“You know, one of the things I discussed in therapy was how I believed I’ve spent every life before this one searching for you. Hoping that we would find each other again, and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times we’ve had before.”

I trailed a red nail down his chest. “You know, Malcolm also said something about our past lives.”

This piqued Noah’s interest as he gave me a smug smile. “Oh, yeah? Folio thought the same thing.”

“Of course, he would,” I snorted. “Did he also think you saved me from a burning building that was set on fire by my long-lost brother?”

Noah’s chest rumbled in laughter. “He said I fell in love with you after one wild night of sex and you came on the road with me.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that life. It probably would make a great story to read online,” I mused while leaning into him, allowing Noah to wrap his arm around my shoulder.

“I’m so happy you’re here tonight, angel. But I hope you know I’m not letting you leave here without me, right?” He muttered against the side of my head.

I wrapped my arms around his side to bury my face into his chest. “I wasn’t leaving without you. Even if you decided not to wait for me anymore.”

“There’s no universe where we aren't together, Y/N. We can’t outrun each other. I love you.”

With his long fingers lifting my chin, the softness of his lips molded against mine and a gentle but firm kiss. His tongue brushed over my bottom lip, asking permission before slipping inside. I moaned into it, reveling in his taste. Sparks shot off inside of me, igniting my cells with such heat, my pussy throbbed in anticipation.

“Stay the night with me?” Noah nibbled against my bottom lip

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I breathed before devouring him once again.

NOAH

With Y/N’s hand in mind, I led her up the driveway towards the house, the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement.

She pulled me to a stop while groaning. “Hang on a second.”

“Everything alright?” I asked, worried that she was changing her mind and wanted to go home.

Bending at her knees, Y/N made quick work of taking off her heels.

“I suddenly remember why I hate wearing heels,” she groaned again. “My feet are killing me.”

Quickly, I scooped her up in my arms to carry her bridal style up the rest of the way to the front door.

“Noah,” she giggled. “I can walk.”

“You’re insane if you think you’re going to walk in the dirt then on my clean floors,” I joked.

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re such a clean freak.”

Ignoring her comment, I reached into my pocket awkwardly to reach for my keys and unlocked the door. My mind was working in overdrive on how to make the rest of our night perfect.

Would she like the house?

Would she appreciate what I’ve done in my room for her?

Would she actually stay?

Stepping over the threshold, I set her down gently in the dark room before clicking on the light, allowing Y/N to take in the fresh scenery.

“Oh wow,” she muttered while looking at me over her shoulder. “It’s a lovely place, Noah.”

I did my best to smile through my nerves and ran a hand through my hair. “Did you want something to drink? If you want a beer, I’m sure one of the guys won’t mind if you take one of theirs. I actually don't drink anymore.”

“You don’t?” She asked.

“No,” I now rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m actually sober. I have been for the last few weeks. I had to, for a few reasons, but it was something I wanted to do.”

Y/N walked into my embrace, wrapping her arms around me, and laid her chin on my chest as she looked up at me.

“I’m proud of you, Noah. I know it might not have been easy and it still may not be. But I’m proud of all your accomplishments. And I’m happy to be by your side for it.”

I kissed her forehead. “Come on, I think I have a Dr. Pepper in the fridge.”

“Oh no. If I have any more caffeine I’ll be a jittery mess. I’m fine right now. Why don’t you show me around?”

Nodding, I spent the next while showing her around the house, upstairs first to where the guy's rooms and the studio were. It was when we were back downstairs and in the open space of the living room and kitchen that she paused while pointing to the large cat tree opposite the large bay window.

“Who has a cat?”

My cheeks flushed as I shifted on my feet. “It’s for Salem. I thought it would be nice for him the next time I have to watch him when you’re out of town or something.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Noah,” she said with a shaky breath.

I could see the tears welling in her eyes but made no mention of it. Instead, I linked our hands together and kissed the back of hers. “I know but I wanted to.”

“I like the couch,” she nodded towards it; the large evergreen sectional.

I smiled wildly. “Thanks, it’s a dope couch. I’d been wanting something like this for a while.”

“So,” she cleared her throat. “Are you going to show me your bedroom?”

“Trying to get me into bed already, angel,” I mused while yanking her into my embrace.

Her hair flew behind her shoulders with the sudden pull and she held herself up by her one hand on my chest, the other still locked with mine.

“I’m tired,” she shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

Smiling at her joke, I lightly dragged her down the hallway towards the master suite but she stopped in front of a closed door.

“What’s this room?”

My face twitched. “Oh, just storage space.”

She narrowed her eyes, almost seeing through my life. “Storage space? You sure you’re not creating a room for all your awards and nominations are you?”

“Ha ha,” I mocked while booping her nose. “Very funny my little flower but that’s a no.”

Y/N was taken aback. “Did you just boop my nose?”

“I did, you have a cute nose,” I shrugged as if it was nothing.

The memory of our hike that one morning when she said the same thing to me fluttered in my mind and I smiled fondly at it.

“Now if I’m not mistaken, I was the one that said you had a cute nose.”

She tried to boop my nose but instead, I grabbed her wrist and spun her to face the other door across the hall.

“Do you want to see my bedroom or not?” I wondered.

“Very much,” she leaned her head against my shoulder as I guided her through the door.

We stood in utter darkness, our breathing sounding so loud in the enclosed space, as I brushed my nose along her neck to breathe in her familiar scent. It made my cock twitch in my pants and I internally groaned, wanting to envelope myself into her.

“Do you guys always sit in the dark or what?”

Stepping away from her, reluctantly, I clicked on the light of the room, Y/N’s loud gasp echoing. She brought her hand to her mouth as she took in every inch of the bedroom.

The large king-sized bed with the sage green duvet blanket and six pillows. The burnt orange throw blanket was thrown haphazardly on. Lined on the wall behind the headboard were the LED lights casting the room in a faint red glow.

The large walk-in closet that only one side was filled with clothes and shoes, the other side bare; waiting to be filled.

The plants littered almost every inch of the shelves of my bookshelves and end tables on either side of the bed.

But when Y/N’s eyes landed on the vanity in front of the window that overlooked the small creek in the backyard, I noticed her breath catch. It still had a few of the figurines I bought her and empty containers, waiting to be filled to the brim with her products.

“What’s this?” She gazed over at me.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “It’s your vanity table. I didn’t buy you a chair yet because I wanted you to try ones out that you’ll like. I figured you’d be sitting there while you do your hair and makeup so you’d want to be comfortable. And I didn’t bother buying products cause I don’t know what works best for you. So I figured we could go shopping and you can buy whatever you want or need when you’re here. That way you don’t have to lug everything back and forth.”

“Noah,” her voice trailed off.

“Chase and Malcolm told me that you have all your products jammed into a suitcase so I got you the biggest one that would fit in this space,” I said while running my hand on the dark surface to brush away the nonexistent dust.

“They knew about this?” Y/N asked as she fumbled with one of the skulls.

It had a crow resting on it with red flowers.

Then she picked up the Valak figure, the faintest of smiles on her gorgeous face.

“Yeah. They told me a few things but a lot I remembered from what you already have in your bedroom. I wanted you to feel like you have a place here, angel,” I spoke.

She, however, hadn’t said much and it began to make me worry. Maybe I did too much. Pushed her somehow with everything.

“If it’s too much, I can-.”

“No!” Y/N whirled her head to me. “It’s not. I love it so much. I just don’t know what to say because no one has ever done something like this for me before.”

I grasped her hips, peering down at her through the few strands of hair that fell into my face. “I’m going to take care of you, angel. No matter what. You deserve all of this and more.”

She hastily wiped away the few stray tears before leaving a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you for this, Noah. Truly. I love you.”

My thumb caught a tear that fell. “Anything for you. Come on, I want to show you one more thing.”

With my hand on her lower back, I guided her out through the patio doors in my bedroom onto the secluded deck. We had one that wrapped around the back and side of the house but this one was only accessible through my bedroom. The sound of the running creek and crickets played like music as we leaned against the railing.

“Every morning, I come out here with my coffee or tea, and either read a book or meditate. I let the sun hit my face and enjoy the solace. Something I never used to have much of before,” I explained while crossing my arms over my chest.

Y/N rested her head against my shoulder. “That sounds lovely Noah, I’m comforted knowing that helps you and that you can do that for your peace.”

“You could do it too,” I suggested.

She hummed. “I could, but you know that small patio back at my apartment is not ideal for sitting outside and sunbathing.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Well, you’re always welcome to just stroll right over here to use this one. What’s mine is yours you know.”

“Like I won’t be here all the time anyways,” Y/N snorted while playfully smacking my arm.

“You’re right,” I chuckled.

A sudden chill brushed over us which caused her to shiver so I motioned for us to go back inside. She sat on the edge of the bed with a content look crossing her features.

“How did you get lucky to get the master bedroom with that shower?” She wondered while throwing a thumb over her shoulder.

“We flipped a coin,” I joked while plopping beside her.

It was nearing midnight and exhaustion was aching deep in my bones but I wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet. I wanted every waking moment with Y/N.

I ran my finger down the exposed skin of her back, tracing the lines of her snake tattoo. My eyes were drawn to the ivory river that gently caressed its way down her neck, reaching just below her shoulder blades. If the gods are real then this woman is their masterpiece.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“No,” she tapped her chin in mock thought. “I don’t think you have.”

“Well, you look stunning, angel,” I kissed her shoulder.

She had a kind of understated beauty, perhaps it was because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness.

“I was told the theme was red, though,” she teased while pulling at my shirt.

With a smirk, I lifted my pant leg to showcase the long red socks I’d been wearing all night. Y/N peered down at them, carefully studying the black symbols.

“Those symbols are on Salem's collar and they were showcased tonight,” her eyes lit up when she remembered.

“Surprise?” I shrugged.

“Do they have meaning?”

I pointed to each symbol. “Death. Peace. Mind.”

“The Death of Peace of Mind,” she uttered the name of our album. “Oh wow, I love that, mochi.”

When her bright eyes gazed up at me, I cupped her cheek to lay a kiss on her lips, slow and sensual. When I pulled away for a brief moment, I marveled at her beauty. Alluringly, Y/N would blink her eyes from time to time, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like the wings of an actual angel.

By Venus, her eyes were simply spellbinding.

With my lips on hers again, I let my tongue explore her mouth while I leaned her back on the bed. One had caressed her cheek while the other ran down her side before resting on her hip. Y/N hooked her leg around mine in a way to lock me in and her nails scratched at the skin of my stomach, underneath my shirt. I shivered with her angelic touch, moaning into her mouth as our tongues continued the fight for dominance.

Y/N tasted just the same but there was no possible way I’d ever get sick of it. I drank her in, reveled in the way her lips molded against mine, and when I broke apart from her to start leaving kisses from her jaw to her neck, she sucked in a breath when I began sucking on the sensitive area just underneath her ear.

I pressed my hips into her, my cock fucking aching in my pants, and I knew she felt it because Y/N let out a harsh moan; my name falling off her sweet lips.

However, when my hand slipped between the slit of her dress, her warm skin underneath my fingertips, she gently pushed me away.

“Wait,” she spoke with a small waver in her voice.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“No, no, you’re fine, Noah. It’s just-”

Y/N sat up on her elbows which made me lean back on my knees so I could gaze down at her. Fuck, she looked beautiful with her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. There was a faint red mark on her neck and my dick twitched with the excitement of marking what was mine.

“I have to talk to you about something,” she blew a strand of hair from her face.

I gave her a small nod, urging her on.

Y/N licked her lips while taking a deep breath. “I know this is a moment and this is something we’ve been waiting for, for a while. But I don’t want us to rush into full-on sex tonight. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted.”

She continued to ramble on so I hushed her worries with a kiss to her lips, nibbling on her bottom lip. “No angel, no. I’m just so happy to have you with me at all. All I want is you. My love for you isn’t based on sex. I don’t mind waiting for you, I will always wait for you.”

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as Y/N eventually nodded. I lowered myself once again, this time farther down.

“Can I?” I hovered over her pussy, warm breath fanning over the material of her red dress.

She raised her hips off the bed towards my face. “Please.”

With her permission, I lifted her from the bed to stand on her feet. My hands snaked up behind her to unzip her dress, it falling to her feet in a pool of fabric. I took a step back so I could gaze upon her. Y/N stood in front of me in nothing but her red lace thong and I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of her. Her muscle definition was perfect and she glowed with a newfound confidence. Y/N wasn’t just flawless in her bone structure but her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty.

“Noah.”

My eyes snapped away from admiring her body to her face. “Hm?”

“I love you,” she admitted while taking off her panties.

My heart swelled in my chest and I let out a long breath. “I love you too, Y/N.”

Gently laying her back onto the bed, I settled myself between the valley of her legs and my nostrils flared when the scent of her filled the room. The red hue from the neon lights behind my bed bathed her in an incandescent glimmer. My angel. The scarlet shade emulates her place in my heart where she flourishes.

Now kneeling on the floor, I wrapped my hands around Y/N’s legs to drag her down towards me, her squeals echoing off the walls of my bedroom.

Our bedroom.

Her nails raked through my hair, urging me closer. I darted my eyes up towards her one final time before devouring her completely. My tongue licked up her entire slit, Y/N hissing in pleasure, and I licked the sensitive nub over and over. Hiking her leg over my shoulder, I spread her wider for me so I could spear my tongue between her folds.

Fuck, I missed the way she tasted.

“Noah,” she moaned.

I lapped up her essence hungrily, like a man starved. The tangy sweetness made me moan in delight as I replaced my tongue with a finger, pumping in and out, then wrapped my lips around her clit to suck.

“Fu-fuck. Shit,” Y/N writhed against the comforter.

One hand was still tangled in my hair while the other grasped at the pillow behind her, her arm extended up over her head.

“Close, Noah, Holy shit” she muttered passionately.

Y/N gripped my hair pushing my head even harder- in an effort to get me closer, if at all possible. I pushed my tongue and fingers deeper inside her, almost feeling like I might split her in half. Her knees shook as she all but yanked on my hair now, her body going rigid. Her pussy pulsed in my mouth as the first waves of her orgasm began to build.

I hummed in approval with how she tasted but I needed more; I needed all of her.

“Noah, I’m gonna-.”

With a gentle pat to the inside of her thigh, I made my fingers work faster while my tongue teased her clit before scrapping my teeth against it; that being exactly what she needed to finally let herself go.

I gazed upon her perfect, naked form, her skin glistening with a sensual sweat. She was stunning. Something radiated from within that rendered her irresistible, and I was more than thankful to be between her thighs, tasting her again. My eyes caught sight of the new ink on her right thigh. The design was of a tattooed arm and hand holding a black rose. After her favorite nothing, nowhere album.

Reaper.

A fool says there was no god. I was no fool. She was an altar to me and I was here to worship.

The cries of her orgasms sounded like a pure melody as I licked and finger fucked Y/N through the aftershocks. My cock was pressing against the confines of my pants and I palmed myself to relieve some of the ache.

She patted my head and I finally pulled away from her to lick up her arousal from my lips and then from my fingers. Humming in approval, I hovered over her and buried my face in the crook of her neck.

“Fuck, Y/N. I missed how you tasted,” I groaned, nipping at the skin of her collarbone.

“I missed that,” she said breathlessly.

My finger brushed over her clit and she shook in overstimulation. “Noah, I can’t.”

I shook my head. “Yes, you can, angel. I want at least four out of you.”

Y/N turned her head towards me, her eyes blown wide with lust and her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. “Four?”

I nodded eagerly while slipping a finger inside of her. “I’ve waited so long to have you again, Y/N.”

She moaned while arching her back off the bed, her walls clamping around my fingers as I slipped another one inside. Now with two fingers, I worked her close to another orgasm as my tongue teased and teeth pulled on one of her nipples.

“Cum for me, angel. Be a good girl and fall apart on my fingers,” I demanded before dragging my tongue between the valley of her breasts.

Her second orgasm ripped through her with no warning and I let her ride it out against my palm, praising her with sweet whispers in her ear. I brought my fingers to my lips, licking them clean as Y/N watched with wide eyes.

“So fucking good,” I mused before crashing my lips to hers.

I was aching, my cock practically screaming at me for some sort of release, but it wasn't about me right now. It was about Y/N.

As I went back to working on the mark on her neck I started earlier, I rearranged ourselves so now I was sitting against the headboard of the bed with Y/N lazily sitting on my thigh. I knew she was exhausted but I also knew that she had at least one more in her.

“Noah,” she whined. “I can’t.”

I brushed away the sweat-stuck hair from her forehead so I could gaze upon her. “Yeah, you can. I know you can. Soak my thigh, angel.”

I was so far gone in my own lust for her; my love for her, that I was about to bust at the seams.

“I don’t see how it's fair,” Y/N pouted. “You still have your clothes on.”

I smirked and kissed the corner of her lips. “Soon.”

With a bruising grip on her hips, I began to guide her back and forth against my thigh; her arousal from her two previous orgasms already soaking my pants. The warmth of her made me revel in delight as I leaned my head against the headboard so I could watch Y/N.

She arched her back, her tits in full display in front of me, and she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, lips parting in a silent moan. As she continued to rub her pussy against my thigh, Y/N’s hands slipped underneath my shirt to yank it up over me, tossing it to the floor.

The cool breeze from the overhead ceiling fan cooled my heated skin and her nails scratched at the tattoos on my chest. Her mouth immediately attached to the divot of skin between my neck and shoulder, teeth nipping before soothing the pain with her tongue.

“Shit,” I hissed in pleasure.

This orgasm was silent but just as powerful as Y/N’s body went stiff in my embrace, my arms locking around her to press our bare chests against each other.

“Good girl,” I praised with a kiss to the side of her head, her body going limp in my embrace.

READER

Noah’s arms wrapped around me from behind as he buried his face into the back of my neck, breathing me in. While I was still naked, he was only wearing his red briefs. He lost his pants right after I finished cumming all over his thigh.

For the last little while, we had been resting in each other's arms, enjoying the silence that fell between us. I enjoyed the way I felt his chest against my back, his deep breaths almost lulling me to sleep but I refused to succumb to the darkness yet. I wanted more time with him.

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, angel,” he laid a kiss on my shoulder and sighed in content. “I’ve been dreaming about this a long time. All I want to do is give you the pleasure you deserve. I love you.”

I turned over in his arms so I could face him and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “I love you too.”

When I went to pull away from him, Noah pouted and reached for me. “Hey, where are you going?”

I patted his chest. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving.”

Wrapping my leg around his hips, I now straddled him and linked our fingers together to hold his hands above his head. I licked and kissed my way from his forehead to his cheek, down his neck, and across the tattoo on his chest.

“Two can play at this you know,” I muttered.

Noah made a low noise in the back of his throat. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

“As you’ve proven,” I teased while gazing up at him. “I owe you for all those wonderful orgasms you’ve given me.”

Letting go of his hands, I dragged myself down the length of him to rest just above his cock which was barely being confined by his briefs. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and slowly dragged them down his long legs to toss them over my shoulder.

I now gazed upon the colorful designs that littered almost every single inch of Noah’s skin. His cock was almost standing straight and I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of the beads of precum that dripped down his length. For months, I dreamed of the last of it; of him.

Noah noticed the way I titled my head at him, eyes darkening.

“Y/N, you don’t have-. Oh, shit!”

He groaned in pleasure when I lapped up the precum, humming in delight, before sinking my mouth over his entire length. My tongue pressed against the base of his cock as I moved my head up and down, slow at first to take my time.

“Oh fuck,” Noah huffed out my name as he gripped the blanket beneath him.

I continued to suck him sloppily for a few moments before taking all of him deep in my throat. His hands grasped behind my head to keep me steady, hips bucking up into me. I dug my nails into his thighs as tears burned in the corners of my eyes, drool dripping from my lips but I refused to let up even a half an inch. I concentrated on breathing through my nose while gliding my tongue up and down.

The head of his cock was buried at the back of my throat and I ignored my gag reflex, not wanting to think of it. I dared a peek up at him, noticing that his head was arched back onto the pillow, his eyes closed, my name falling from those sinful lips in prayer. Sweat gathered at his forehead, dark tendrils sticking to him, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long with the grunts he was making.

My fingers played with his balls as I began moving my head up and down at a fast pace now, wanting nothing more than to get him to finish; and revel in his own orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N. Oh fuck,” Noah warned.

Suddenly, warm spurts of cum shot to the back of my throat and I mewled in delight as I swallowed every last drop of him, coming off of his cock with a loud pop. I wiped the drool from my chin with the back of my hand as Noah brushed away the hair from his face, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

I nodded with a giggle. “Agreed.”

His hand reached up to brush his tongue along my bottom lip. “Thirsty?”

“Yes, please”

With a gentle pat on my thigh, I climbed off of Noah and climbed underneath the blanket and black sheets while he slipped on his briefs before leaving the room. I heard rummaging around in the kitchen.

I quickly glanced at my phone to notice a missed text from Malcolm and a few from the Hollow Souls group chat.

Malcolm: Don’t worry. I’ll feed Salem tonight and in the morning. Have fun and be safe. We love you, sweets.

With a fond smile, I replied to him before clicking on the Hollow Omens text thread.

Chase: Jolly, where are you? If you guys need a ride to our place, we’re out front.

Nicholas: He’s coming. Jesse and Michael got caught up with an old friend.

Michael: Hey, what are the chances we can swing by home to grab some extra clothes?

Jesse: Unless you want to walk into something you can’t unsee, I’d suggest against it.

Jolly: Has anyone checked to see if Noah and Y/N made it home safely?

Folio: I don’t think they’re too worried about their phones right now.

I snorted a chuckle before responding.

Me: Hi, friends. Noah and I made it home safely. Whoever sleeps in my room, make yourself at home! Just don’t look under the bed 😉

Not bothering to wait for a reply, I locked my phone and set it down on the nightstand next to the bed just as Noah returned with two glasses of water and a pack of chocolate chip cookies.

My eyes lit up. “Oh, yes! It’s like you read my mind.”

“Just a little bedtime snack,” Noah winked while handing me the water and a few cookies.

“I’m surprised you’re letting me eat in your bed,” I mumbled over a bite of cookie.

He settled himself next to me. “You’re the only exception because this would typically be a no.”

Waving him off, I finished the cookies then washed them down with half of the water and settled into bed while Noah browsed for a show to watch on the televisions. As I traced my gaze over every inch of him, studying him, I noticed something on his back.

My hand gently pushed his shoulder forward. “Woah. When did you get this?”

I traced the ink that covered the entirety of his back. It was just an outline of Jesus with the crown of thorns. There was some kind of border around it, a flower and leaves on each of his shoulder blades along with his lower back. Beneath Jesus, was a heart with barbed wire around it, a flame cross emanating from the top of it.

“I got it done a few weeks ago,” Noah answered, shivering underneath my touch as goosebumps rose to his skin.

I hummed a kiss into his back. “I never took you as the religious type.”

“I find religious art beautiful,” He leaned down to brush his lips over mine, a kiss I eagerly returned. “Besides, I don’t need God, no religion. Just you.”

After shutting off the lights and settling on a random movie, we cuddled deeper into the comforts of the bed, my head resting on his chest with my leg wrapped around his hips. Noah’s hand dragged up and down my back and I sighed in pure bliss.

He held me gently as if he were holding a flower and I wished we could have stayed like this forever.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” I mumbled my thoughts out loud.

“We can if you want,” he offered while leaving a kiss on the top of my head.

“We have to leave this room at some point,” I poked him.

Noah chuckled, it rumbling underneath my cheek on his chest. “True, but it’s not the room I was talking about.”

Gazing up at him, I cupped his cheek. “You’re already my forever, Noah. I learned that a long fucking time ago.”

He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “Are you okay if we sleep together?”

I didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice so I sat up in bed, the sheet falling from my naked form. “I’m staying, Noah. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you. There is nowhere else I belong, nowhere.”

Noah dragged his hands over his face to muffle the faint sound of a sniffle. Gently, I pulled his hands away from his face and noticed a faint tear roll down his cheek.

“Noah, why are you crying? I’m right here. This is you and me, right?”

He sniffled again but cleared his throat soon after. “I guess after all this time, it still sort of doesn’t feel real.”

I nodded while pulling my knees to my chest, resting my chin upon them. “I can understand that, I feel that way too. But it is real. It’s you and me. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I love you.”

“I love you,” he sat up in bed to kiss me. “It’s you and me, angel.”

“Have any clothes for me to borrow?” I asked while biting my lip.

As much as I loved feeling his bare skin on mine, I could not sleep naked.

Noah motioned to the closet. “Help yourself to whatever. What’s mine is yours.”

Hopping off the bed, I scurried into the closet to scavenge through his drawers, not trying to gawk at the size of the closet. After deciding on his Naruto eating noodles shirt and gray joggers, I stepped back into the bedroom.

“Are you wearing my joggers and shirt?” Noah stifled a laugh.

“You said help yourself, so I did,” I smirked while hopping back into bed.

“Angel, I have to say you look ravishing in my clothes even if you look like a fucking pipsqueak in them.”

“It’s not my fault you’re fucking giant! I had to roll up the joggers three times!” I defended while pushing his shoulder.

Noah raised a brow before rolling on top of me, pinning my hands above my head with one of his while the other ghosted over my side. Immediately I knew what he was going to do.

“Don’t,” I warned. “I can’t be held liable for what happens if you tickle me.”

He narrowed his eyes, thinking it over, before he instead plopped down next to me, resting his head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him to drag my fingers through his hair.

“This was all I wanted,” Noah admitted after a long beat of silence, wrapping his arms around me to pull himself closer.

“Me too, mochi. I feel like I’m home,” I admitted, eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

I yawned, which made Noah turn the television off before returning to his position of being the little spoon.

“You are home, angel. Wherever I am is your home.”

NOAH

Leaning on my elbow, I gazed down at the sleeping form of Y/N, soft snores falling from her lips as her hair was covering her face. I brushed it away with soft fingers and let my mind wander to last night.

She was here. She was with me, in my bed, and had no intention of leaving. For so long I’ve wanted this, dreamed of it, and now that it's actually true, my anxiety kept trying to tell me that she would end up slipping between my fingers.

My breathing suddenly became erratic, feeling as if someone had their claws sunk deep in my lungs, and white spots danced at the edge of my vision.

Shit. Shit. Not now.

Making sure Y/N was still asleep, I slipped out from beneath the covers and stepped into a pair of shorts and grabbed my phone on my way out the patio doors of my bedroom. The fresh scent of the morning dew that covered the grass filled my nostrils as I did my best to take deep breaths.

I sat cross legged on the deck and with the Calm app open on my phone, I let the familiar sounds of one I usually opted for sink deep within me. My eyes shut as I took countless deep breaths.

Deep breath in. Hold for four seconds. Out for two seconds.

I envisioned Y/N’s soft features of her face. Her bright eyes as I drowned in the color of them. The faint freckles that seemed to over cover her nose. The slight dip between her upper lip. The one dimple on her left cheek that was always prominent whenever she smiled.

Fuck, her smile was one that could light up a room. It was one that made all your problems go away when you gazed upon it.

Holding her in my arms is more natural to me than my own heartbeat. Even now, when I’m sitting here, I think about her. I think about her all the time. Some may say that we’re too young, I just know deep inside the flesh of me, there could never be another.

I was so entranced in my meditation that I didn’t hear the sliding glass door open until two arms wrapped around my neck from behind, soft lips pressing kisses to my cheek.

“Good morning, mochi,” Y/N’s angelic voice sang in my ears.

I grasped her arm with a sigh and opened one eye to peek over at her. “Morning, angel.”

This is real. This is my new routine.

She fell into my lap, locking her arms behind my neck again and kissed me. My hands rested on her hips to keep her within my embrace, not wanting to let her go any time soon.

“Did you sleep okay?” She asked.

I nodded and lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

“I must say you outdid yourself with that bed. Perfect amount of pillows and the sheets are comfortable,” Y/N mused while playing with the ends of my hair.

“Only the best for you, angel,” I smugly smiled. “But listen, there’s something I want to bring up.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

I took a deep breath. “This weekend, I want us to have our first official date.”

Her eyes lit up. “Noah, I’d love that. But I just need to make sure to check my schedule.”

“Nope, already taking care of,” I snaked my hand underneath her shirt to graze over the soft skin of her back. “Malcolm and Chase said that you have nothing planned. So this weekend, you’re all mine.”

“I’m always yours, Noah,” she promised with a kiss to the side of my mouth.

With my heart solely in her hands now, I nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

“Yes you are.”

Our lips met in a gentle, slow kiss, but when Y/N adjusted herself to fully straddle my lap, I forced my tongue into her mouth and tasted all of her. My nails dug into the skin of her back to hold her closer to me and when she rutted her hips into me, I could feel the heat from her core brush against my hard cock.

I needed her so badly, in any way I could. But for now, I simply enjoyed having her grind against my lap as we sat on the deck, lips attaching to one another. The sun broke through the clouds to warm our already heated skin and with her body on mine and the sound of the running water of the creek, it lulled me into a state of peace that the Calm app couldn’t do for me earlier.

“I love you,” her teeth grazed over my bottom lip.

I grasped the side of her neck, thumb locked on her chin. “I love you too, angel.”

Our tongues began another fight for dominance, her winning this round again, but I never would complain. Y/N could do whatever she wanted with me and I’d still worship the ground she walked on.

“Noah,” she whined, rubbing her pussy over my cock, the thin material of our clothes still causing a barrier between us.

“What do you want, Y/N?” I demanded while nipping at the skin of her neck.

“You,” she gasped when my fingers slipped inside the waistband of her pants.

Fuck, she was soaking wet. My fingers glided over her pussy, gathering her arousal to begin rubbing fast, short circles against her clit.

The sounds of birds singing their morning songs were drowned out by Y/N’s moans, resting her forehead against my bare shoulder, and she bucked into my hand.

“So wet,” I praised, still working fast on her clit.

“I’m so close.”

With her still in my embrace, I stood and carried her back into my bedroom, slowing my pace on her clit immensely.

“Noah,” she groaned. “Why’d you stop?”

Forcing her against the wall, I let Y/N wrap her legs around me just before I attacked her lips in a fever hungry kiss. Now it was me who won the battle for dominance and I forced my tongue into her mouth, ravaging her lips.

“I need to taste you again, Y/N. Need it on my lips,” I grunted while pushing us off the wall and over towards the bed.

Her giggles echoed loudly in the room as she bounced and I jumped on after her.

JOLLY

With a big yawn, I walked into the house with Jesse and Michael close behind. We all spent the night at Chase and Malcolm’s place but now that it was nearing mid morning, we decided it was safe to come back home.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Michael groaned as he rummaged in the fridge, “But I need another couple hours of sleep.”

I snorted my laughter. “What, did Salem keep you up all night?”

“I don’t understand how that little dude has all that energy. Running up and down their long hallway all night. I swore you’d think they had a pet horse,” he exasperated.

Jesse went to say something but he quickly pointed to the kitchen window. “Look.”

We did and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Y/N was sitting on one of the patio chairs with a blanket wrapped around her and a book in her lap. I peered down the hallway where Noah’s bedroom was just as he stepped out, dressed in a pair of black shorts and his Hereditary sweater. Water still clung to his hair as he stepped out into the living room.

“Oh, hey. When did you guys get back?” He asked.

Sharing a glance with the others, all three of us wrapped Noah in a large group hug, finally happy that all the bullshit the last few months was finally worth it.

“Alright, alright,” Noah pushed us away when Jesse began ruffling his hair.

“She looks peaceful out there, I’d say what you were so worried about resolved itself,” Jesse chuckled at first.

He sat on the couch to put on his white socks then white vans. “Yeah. We had a good night. Are you guys cool if she stays?”

I grasped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You know we’re more than okay with that. She’s welcome here anytime, Noah.”

Just then, the sliding glass door in the kitchen opened as Y/N stepped through, wearing Noah’s clothes, and gave us all a warm smile.

“Hi!” She cheered. “I was thinking about making some breakfast if you guys are hungry.”

Just then a thought crossed my mind and I ran a hand through my hair. “Actually, I was thinking we could go out for breakfast. I know this great place.”

Noah chuckled while rising from the couch and immediately pulling Y/N into his arms, leaving a kiss to the side of her head.

“Any reason why you want to go there?” He teased me.

I narrowed my eyes as Y/N smacked his chest. “Noah, be nice. But I’d love that! I just need to run home quickly and I can meet you there!”

Michael tossed her her car keys since he drove it over here for her. “Count me out. Your cat kept me up all night with his galloping and biting my toes.”

“Oh, you leave my baby alone,” Y/N pointed a finger at him as he began walking up stairs to his bedroom.

“I’m in,” Jesse smiled. “Give me a little bit to change.

When it was now the three of us, I couldn't help but watch with a smile as Noah walked Y/N to the door, muttering something low in her ear, a red hue creeping across her cheeks.

“I love you, angel,” he brushed a kiss across her forehead.

She grasped his sides, leaning into the kiss. “I love you too, mochi.”

They were not the same people they were when they met. They’ve changed, they’ve grown.

I felt joyous, for this reunion. This is proof that love can exist. The sun has long since risen, the thief of night would come quickly. I stared at my friends, who desperately could not disconnect. I was just so glad. I smiled with a crinkling mouth, and pure heat enveloped my heart for them.

I began to wander in the corner of my own daydream. I couldn’t wait to live a lifetime in these last remaining moments of my own.

Her face came into my mind.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #tina and sarah talks

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delzinrowe · 2 months

Note

I saw your post, happy you're doing well!!!

Maybe something for Inumaki if you do him? Anything is fine 👉👈

Thank you thank you! <3

AN: I just started writing this without a real plan and just after a headcanon I had, and I didn't realise it would turn out this long... TT

Word count: ~600ish

Warnings: not beta read, pure fluff with some insecurities

I am not quite sure why but Inumaki strikes me as the type of boyfriend who would be secretely extremely insecure.

Even though he knows he's one of the most promising young sorcerers and that his cursed technique is among those few that are envied, he's still insecure, why? Because it's also a curse that forbids him from telling you all the things that other people so easily tell their loved ones.

No matter how many times you reassure him, it's something that's eating away inside of his heart that cannot be fully stopped.

It all started when you guys were on a date at the movies. Inumaki previously tried to ask you out multiple times, all of which failed because he couldn't just straight up say "Do you want to go out with me?" like others could.

Instead he decided to ask you via text if you wanted to go out, which you misunderstood and thought meant the entire group. Needless to say Yuta teased him about this for a while afterwards.

Inumaki eventually left a note in your backpack, asking whether you wanted to go on a date with him. You found the note later that day during class, yet to Toge's horror he realised he forgot to sign it. Another failed attempt.

When Maki got tired of watching him fail at asking you out she eventually blurted out that Toge had been crushing on you. First you didn't believe it, thinking she might just pull a prank on you, but when you saw the heat flush onto his face it became obvious that she was in deed serious and correct.

Afterwards you two finally went on your first date, which to you went simply amazing. Now for Toge it was great until the movie came to it's romantic climax with the lead male going on and on about his feelings in a cheesy speech. He would have almost laughed if he hadn't seen the glimpse of hearts in your eyes at the romantic words. Suddenly the popcorn you shared felt like pebbles in his stomach when he realised he'd never be able to say such things to you because of his cursed speech.

Sure, if he wrote down a speech and carefully choose the words he could make sure that there would be no accidents, but he promised himself never to risk anyone's safety.

When he walked you home he remained unusually quiet, not even his beloved onigiri ingredients were spoken. You shyly took his hand and squeezed it, thanking him for the beautiful date and kissed his cheek before hurrying into your home.

Simply holding your hand on its own had eased his worries, but the kiss on his cheek? It made him forget everything for a solid minute. The worries eventually returned but for the moment he was fully content and happy.

The dates kept going on, spending time with Toge was easy and felt natural and peaceful. It wasn't long until you two officially became a couple. At this moment he started to open up more about his worries, that he felt he lacked in terms of providing you with lovely words.

You couldn't blame him, being insecure is part of being human, even if you didn't see any reason for him having such doubts. Having been whipped for him since the very beginning you decided to come up with a new safe word for him, one that he would only utter in times of insecurities.

Whenever he said the word you'd take his hand, pull him closer and remind him how much you loved him with a kiss on his each of his cheeks and eventually his lips.

(Okay so maybe Inumaki started abusing the word to get free kisses whenever he wanted but you couldn't really be mad at him since you also enjoyed kissing him.)

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trippinsorrows · 2 months

Text

looking through your eyes + six

authors note: i really like how this one came out. hope you guys do too.

i use some psych terminology, so just as a lil glossary: pt=patient, dx=diagnosis, hx =history, fx=functioning status (mental stability, essentially) and hopefully everyone can understand the rest with context clues.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, language, medical report following suicide attempt, discussion of sexual abuse, mention of torture

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

words: 10k (i don't know how to write short chapters, clearly)

The last thing Solana expected to wake up to is a handwritten note left for her in the same journal she deposited on Roman’s bed despite her better judgment. She was filled to the brim with anxiety regarding that bold decision, asking him to do something she’s certain is miles outside of his comfort zone.

She expected him to ignore her.

What she didn’t expect was for him to reply.

Reading over his words, Solana struggles with the ease of his acquiescence. He indicated it could be short term, but she’ll take that, because it’s a hell of a lot easier for her to talk to this man if it’s through written word.

And the last part.

There’s nothing you can’t tell me.

There’s actually a lot she can’t tell him. A lot he can never know. No one can know, but the sentiment behind it…..it has her puzzled. He has her puzzled.

Solana grabs the journal and scans the kitchen for a pen when a thought crosses her mind. She bites down on her bottom lip, forever battling with the idea of something vs the actuality of carrying out the plan.

In a plot twist, she sides with the plan and pulls out her phone, searching for Roman’s contact.

She types, deletes, and does so again at least three times before settling on a text that really could have been conjured and sent in seconds vs the solid ten minutes she takes to issue it out.

Solana: Hi. Thank you. Do you think we could text too? I know that writing is my thing, but I can text if that’s easier for you too….thanks.

Solana nearly tosses her cell phone on the large slab that is his granite kitchen island and moves around to figure out what she’s going to fix for breakfast. The perfect excuse for her to not think about the knots in her stomach at her message. It doesn’t stop the overthinking though.

What if she’s asking too much? Pushing him too far out of his comfort zone? It doesn’t take long for her to regret her decision, wishing it was still within the time limits to unsend her message.

And then her phone dings.

Solana nearly drops the egg she was about to crack over the skillet. Swallowing, she places it back in the bowel as her feet slowly carry her to the phone that has now dinged a second time. Her fingers dance against the sides of her pants, stretching and scratching the cotton.

Lifting her phone, she unlocks her phone and heads straight to his thread.

Roman: Yes.

It’s a simple response that makes sense for him and is beneficial for Solana who sighs in relief at his agreement. She stews on how to respond, eventually settling on a simple thank you as well as answering his question. The least she can do.

Solana: Thank you…

Solana: And I don’t work this weekend.

Solana: Can I ask you something?

Solana again starts chewing on her bottom lip as she mentally berates herself for bombarding him with messages when he’s probably in the middle of working.

But even so, that doesn’t stop him from replying almost instantly.

Roman: You don’t have to ask if you can ask me something, Solana. Just ask.

It’s hard not to imagine the frustration on his face at answering her question while also having to remind her of what he’s already stated at one point or another.

Solana: Okay…

Solana: Where are we going?

She’s unsure if he will respond and has accepted that he may not, which is okay with her. He’s already being more responsive than she initially anticipated he would. And Solana is barely able to put the skillet on the fire before her phone is buzzing again.

Roman: You’ll see.

His answer makes her frown. It’s not what she wanted to hear, but it’s also not a complete disregard or verbal lashing for asking a simple question.

Solana prepares to leave it as is when Roman’s voice is in the back of her mind, nudging and reminding her of his desire for her to communicate with him more.

Nervous fingers type out an expression of said nerves.

Solana: Okay….surprises just make me nervous.

She doesn’t have time to put her phone down when those three dots appear, indicating he’s typing.

Roman: It’s nothing bad.

Roman: I wouldn’t lie to you.

And for some strange reason, Solana believes that. Roman doesn't seem like a man to lie in general, because he’s too blunt for that.

Unless….

Unless it’s one of his mind games, because he is notorious for that. Still, she can’t find a reason why he would waste his time playing one of those with her.

Solana: Okay. Sorry to text you while you’re working.

Roman: You’re apologizing again.

Roman: And I don’t care.

Roman: I’d rather talk to you than listen to the twins bullshit.

Solana tries to not put too much into his words, into him saying that he wants to talk to her. It’s not that he directly wants to speak to her, more she’s the lesser of two evils. Nothing to get into her head about.

Solana: They’re kinda funny….🙈

Roman: You’d feel differently if you had to deal with them all the time.

Solana: Fair.

The exchange is so in the moment, back to back, that she doesn’t put her phone down again until her last message. She then returns to preparing her breakfast.

Solana is frying her eggs, adding in seasoning when her phone dings again. Wiping her hands on her apron, she expects a message from Bayley or even Naomi.

Especially Naomi. She needs to talk to her about what happened, apologize for putting her in what must have been an awkward situation.

It’s neither of them.

Roman: How’d you start writing?

Roman continuing or prolonging the conversation isn’t something she saw coming. But, the message is right there in white writing against that gray background.

Solana briefly debates how honest to be in her answer, deciding to step a bit out of her comfort zone in offering more than just her usual three to five word responses.

Solana: My mom. She spoke English, but she wasn’t fluent, so she’d write letters to me in Spanish, and I’d have to respond in English so we both could learn.

Solana: My dad wouldn’t let her teach or speak it around me and Wes so that was the only way I/she could learn.

He stops replying after that, and Solana feels stupid for being so open, for not just giving him a simple answer with all of the unnecessary verbiage.

And then her phone goes off.

Roman: Not surprising.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Solana debates on whether to end it there or follow up with another question given that he asked one first. It feels like returning the favor or reciprocating manners.

Hence, she decides on texting him again.

Solana: What is that language you speak to the twins sometimes?

Roman: Samoan. I’m fluent. Italian and English as well.

That’s not entirely surprising. Roman is obviously a well educated, well rounded man.

Roman: You’re more perceptive than you let off.

Solana: Maybe. But no one ever cares what I have to say or think, so it doesn’t make sense to share it.

He stops replying after that.

And Solana tries to not think too much about her disappointment, moving around the kitchen to finish fixing breakfast as a distraction.

A poor distraction, because not even twenty minutes later, she’s ready to check her phone again even if it hasn’t made the special sound that makes her belly flutter. However, the sound of the doorbell pulls her from that premature excitement.

Solo comes to meet her in the kitchen informing matter-of-factly, “it’s Naomi and Bayley.”

Solana stills. That’s definitely not someone she expected to see so soon. Neither of them.

“Invite them in?” Solo’s voice tinges with borderline irritation, which she can understand.

Cheeks reddening, she apologizes. “Yes. Sorry. Of—of course.”

Solana hears Bayley before she sees her. “Damn. This is how it’s like to live as the Tribal Chief's wife? Maybe shit isn’t so bad after all.” The two walking in wearing friendly smiles brings back Solana’s grin.

“Hey there. We wanted to come check on you.” Naomi introduces, the first to ask, “is it okay if we hug you?”

Solana doesn’t hesitate as much as she would expect herself to. “Yes.”

Naomi also doesn’t hesitate and steps forward, hugging Solana in such a sincere way she’s not sure she’s experienced in years. Since her mom.

And Bayley does the same, maybe even a little tighter.

The three of them sit down at the kitchen island as Bayley asks in a sympathetic tone. “How you doing, lady?”

“Better.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana can’t help but think about the additive that it’s largely due to Roman. But, she keeps that part to herself. She looks at Naomi. “I’m so sorry—“

Naomi lifts a manicured finger to silence her. “Girl, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t know what was going on. You could have told me too, but I get it must have been hard for you.”

This part had Solana deeply nervous, the part where she’d have to ‘face’ Naomi after causing such a scene and getting the whole place shut down for an entire day, So, for the woman with the penchant for bold colors that look delightful against her complexion to be so understanding and empathetic, it means a lot to Solana.

It means a lot that Bayley would also even tag along when she wasn’t even part of that chaotic ordeal.

“Just know you can tell us anything. We’ve got your back,” Bayley affirms, adding with a smirk. “And clearly your big bad husband does too.”

We’ve got your back.

Solana doesn’t even know where to begin comprehending and swallowing that.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have too long to be in her head, because Naomi starts talking again. “That was wild,” she comments with a shake of her head and then looks at Solana. “Oh shit, you probably don’t know, do you?”

Solana’s stomach does the opposite of butterflies, the uncomfortable clenching and twisting that accompanies anxiety. “Know what?”

There’s no delay with the answer.

“Theory and Waller are dead.” Solana wasn’t sure what to expect to hear Naomi say, but even if she tried to guess, that would have never been one of her options.

Confusion is painted all over her face. “Wha—what?”

Dead.

The two men who just yesterday caused her to breakdown and revert back to her teenage years where dissociation was her coping mechanism, the men who’d been sexually harassing her with zero regards for her as a human and even more, as Roman’s wife….are dead.

It feels almost impossible to be true.

Bayley backs up Naomi’s assertion, adding, “yeah, he had their bodies, or what was left, displayed at the Warehouse this morning.”

Chills travel up her spine. “W–why?”

It’a a word aimed towards a lot of the questions Solana has unanswered. Why are they dead? Why did Roman kill or have them killed? Sure, she expected there to be some form of punishment, merely for the simple fact that messing with her was a clear sign of disrespect toward him, which the Tribal Chief would never tolerate. But, for them to be killed, in such a what sounds like a gruesome manner, and their remains to be left for all to see?

Why?

Bayley answers with a shrug of her shoulders. “To send a message.”

Solana is surprisingly fast with her follow up. “W-what message?”

Naomi is quick with the answer, but in general, she seems to be knowledgeable about a lot of things Bloodline. “You’re Bloodline now. No one messes with us. And you’re Roman’s wife? Yeah, he’s making sure everyone knows what happens if they even think about fucking with you.”

It lines up, Solana reflecting back on Roman’s departing declaration the night before.

“I told you. No one lays a hand on you. I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”

She just never expected such a….big message.

“Honestly, they were fucking creeps anyway.” Solana cannot and does not disagree with the first part of Bayley’s statement, the second part, however, is iffy for her. “They got exactly what they deserved.”

Solana neither agrees or disagrees with that.

“I’m thinking we do your training from here for a little while,” Naomi suggests. While her initial response is to apologize for any inconvenience this may cause Naomi, Solana can’t deny the fact that just the thought of walking back in that building right now makes her physically ill. “I know Roman got a state of the art gym here and that massive backyard of yalls? This will do just fine.”

“Oooh, I gotta see this.” Bayley then asks, “Solana, are you working today?”

“No, I called out.” Solana needs at least a day to get her mind right, hence taking today off.

Bayley then suggests, “Naomi and I were gonna go shopping. Why don’t you come with us?”

It's an interestingly timed question given one of Solana’s text exchanges with Roman not even an hour ago included him informing her that the stack of envelopes on the kitchen island earlier were her new set of cards, all linked to his accounts.

And he made sure to reiterate again that there is no limit. For any of them.

Bayley then decides and declares, slapping her hand on the island. “Matter of fact, we’re not asking. We’re telling you that you’re going shopping with us.” That is something Solana is familiar with, never being asked, always being told.

It’s just rare, if ever, it’s something that isn't entirely bad or terrible she’s being told she needs to do.

“I’ve been wanting to take you shopping for forever anyway. Because as sweet and great as you are, Solana, you dress like college freshman meets Billie Eilish.” Before Solana can ask what exactly that means, Naomi explains. “So much neutral and dark colors. And everything is oversized. I can tell you’re kind of insecure about your body, but you literally have no reason to be because you have an amazing shape.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, but her hand naturally goes to one of the scars on her arm from that night.

Naomi notices this and advises in a gentle voice, “we all have scars, Solana. Some you can see and others you don’t.” Solana has both, and it’s a miserable experience. “That doesn’t mean you have to hide them and be ashamed.”

“Naomi is right.” Bayley agrees, and something tells Solana she’s going out shopping today whether she wants to or not. “We are going to help you learn to embrace your curves one better fashionable choice at a time.”

________

Solana can probably count on one hand how many times she’s gone shopping in person over the past couple years. Maybe longer. She mostly sticks to online shopping when she is in need of a couple new pieces, always sizing way up so she can assure that it fits. More so drapes over her body, but that’s always been the preference.

She’s also never shopped at stores where the price for a single item can be upwards to three to four figures, which apparently isn’t the case for Bayley and Naomi.

Cause one of the first items they pick up for her is a single blouse that reads $650.00 on the price tag. Solana nearly faints when she reads that. That’s probably the entire cost of her wardrobe put together.

She’s starting to regret telling them about Roman adding her to his accounts. Naomi especially seemed thrilled at that, and she seems to be the one piling the cart with more and more items. Bayley also offering her fair share of contributions.

All the while Solo keeps a safe but comfortable distance, wearing that infamous stoic expression, Solana can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling about this, about having to spend his time watching her while she shops. It can’t be enjoyable for him at all. She feels sort of bad.

“Oh my god, you have to try this on.”

Feeling bad for someone else morphs into feeling bad for herself, to a certain extent, when Solana sees the dress that Naomi is holding up for her.

In all interactions, Solana does her best to be polite and kind, to never invite a volatile or mean response. “Ummm, I don’t—I don’t think that’ll look good on me.”

It won’t look good for a lot of reasons, the main one being it’s too small. Solana can see the thin sleeved dress is intended to be form-fitting—another major red flag—but even with that, it’s obviously a size, or eight, too small.

Naomi makes a sound. “Girl, that’s just how it looks. It molds to your shape, and with all your curves, I know it’s going to be a killer look.” She then pushes it in Solana’s direction again. “At least try it on. You never know unless you try.”

But Solana does know. She knows this dress is going to draw attention to all of her flaws. The rolls, the pudge of her belly, her big arms, and those damn scars. But, she also doesn’t want to be rude, so she agrees, disappearing in the dressing room before emerging a couple minutes later, never once checking her reflection before doing so.

She walks to where the ladies are waiting, asking with an awkward shrug of her shoulders, “well?”

Naomi gasps. “Holy shit, that looks amazing on you, Solana!”

“Of course it does. You see that body?” Bayley joins in on gassing her up, adding, “it really does look good, Solana. We wouldn't lie to you.”

Huh. That’s the second time today Solana has been told that.

Bayley then instructs her to look at her reflection in the full body mirror of the dressing room, a dreaded task but one she makes herself complete.

Solana does her best to try to be as neutral and not negative towards her appearance, but it’s hard when she keeps honing in on the scars on her arms, the one on her face, not to mention her weight and how, to her, it just seems too much.

Her father’s sharp and consistent criticism starts to return to the forefront of her mind when she notices Naomi snap a photo. Turning on her heel, she asks with a level of nervousness, “w–what are you doing?”

“Helping you to realize how bad as hell you are.” Naomi says it so casually, so calmly, turning her phone toward Solana. “See.”

It’s a thread, a group chat, and along with the picture Naomi just snapped, there’s an accompanying text.

Naomi: Solana is being stupid and thinks she looks bad in this dress. Please prove me and Bayley’s point.

Solana’s eyes go wide when she realizes just who is in this group text. Jimmy, Jey, and Roman.

Her stomach is twisting all over again. “Naomi, I—I don’t think—”

Naomi’s phone chimes, and a smile grows on her face as Bayley moves closer to Solana.

Naomi starts laughing and then smirks as she flips it so Solana and Bayley can read. “I rest my case.”

Jey: Damn, Soso 👀 Hell yeah, she look good. Goddamn! 😫

Jimmy: I GYAT to start coming over to ya’ll house more, Uce. 🍑

Bayley makes a wolf sound, playfully shoving Solana whose cheeks are reddening by the second after reading the surprising response from the twins. She definitely either expected no response or an either kind or unkind disagreement. “We told you, girl. You look amazing.” Bayley then comments, directing her statement to Naomi. “Man, you and Jimmy definitely have a strong ass relationship, cause I’d be ready to kick his ass.”

Naomi shrugs, simply responding. “We trust each other. I know it stops at just looking for him. Same for me.”

Her phone makes a sound, and she reads whatever the latest incoming messages are, instantly rolling her eyes. “Roman is such an ass sometimes.”

Solana’s ear perks up at the mention of his name as she asks, “what did he say?”

Naomi turns her phone again so Solana can read for herself, her stomach twisting with anxiety when she reads his trenchant reply.

Roman: Shut the fuck up.

Roman: Unsend this shit, Naomi. Now.

But before Solana can panic about his response, her phone dings and she pulls it out to see his name on her lockscreen. Instead of delaying the inevitable, she unlocks to read his response, anticipating the worst.

Roman: You look good.

Roman: But you always look good.

Solana has to read his text a couple of times before it actually registers. He thinks she looks good. Roman thinks she looks good. Even more, he thinks she always looks good. Solana doesn’t know how to take that, even though there really is only one way to take such a message.

Bayley and Naomi being the bit of nosy Nancy’s that they are, sneak a peek at Solana’s phone and also read his text. Bayley is the first to speak, displaying that knowing dimpled smile. “Ha! See. The Tribal Chief himself has spoken.”

Naomi and her share a laugh as Solana finds herself also with a small smile. Roman had told her the night of WarGames that she looked beautiful, and she hadn’t really known how to take that either, chalking it up to the face full of makeup and fancy updo.

But this photo Naomi snapped and sent shows her without a lick of makeup on, hair messily pulled back and out of the way. It’s literally just her in a dress, a dress she normally would never dare to brave, but something Roman apparently thinks she looks good in.

“Does…..does he really think I’m beautiful?” It’s a question she never intended to leave the safe confines of her mind, but it’s a rebel, sneaking its way out and landing on the doorstep of the two women before her.

Bayley, as per usual, is the first to speak. “Is that a serious question? Of course he thinks you’re beautiful, because you are. You’re absolutely stunning, Solana. You have to see that.”

“Most of the men at your wedding kept commenting on how pretty you are. And your boobs, of course, because men have no couth.” Naomi rolls her eyes but continues. “And as someone who has had the displeasure of knowing Roman literally since we were in elementary school, I can tell you that you’re 1000% his type.”

Solana doesn’t believe that Naomi has reason to lie to her. Bayley either. And as Naomi has been around the family for so long, her word has to be true. But, Solana has a hard time separating the fact that Roman, who has someone as beautiful and unflawed like Samantha, in the same vein, could think someone like her is beautiful.

Samantha is beautiful, and someone he can actually touch.

Because regardless of how he views her, it all comes down to that. Physical intimacy. One of many things that Solana can’t give him.

But Samantha can.

Samantha does.

That’s why she was in the house that day, doing what Solana should but can’t because she’s too fucked up, too damaged, too broken.

Bayley reaches over with a comforting hand, switching to Spanish. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t. You’re beautiful, Solana. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Fuck anyone who’s ever said different.”

Solana isn’t quite sure how to describe how grateful she feels in this moment, to have such support, to have people be so genuinely and sincerely supportive. She hasn’t had that in so long, she’d almost forgotten that it was possible.

Emotion thick, she responds in the same language, “thank you, Bayley.”

“Okay, now that’s just not fair. I wanna know what’s going on too.” Naomi’s protest and almost childlike pout makes Solana smile, a nice break from the heavy emotional experience going on in her head.

“Just some girls supporting girls shit.” Bayley shrugs and claps her hands together. “Okay, now let’s see what sexy little red pieces we can find for you….”

________

Texting and writing with Roman on and off for the rest of the week was never on Solana’s agenda, but it’s exactly what’s been happening.

And she has no idea what to make of it.

Every time there’s a delay with his response, she assumes that’s it. That’s the end of the conversation. Only for her phone to buzz with not only a response but usually a follow up question.

It’s almost as if he wants to keep the conversation going, but that can’t be it. She can’t see why he’d want to speak with her.

Even if he literally stated that he’d prefer to talk to her than listen to his cousins bicker. Still, his entire day can’t involve their presence. There has to be some separation at one point or another.

But even with that, he’s consistent with eventually replying, acknowledging her messages even if the responses come hours after her first one was sent.

And for the life of her, Solana cannot find a good or logical reason as to why her stomach flutters with a modicum to medium level of excitement every time her phone dings.

Because she thinks it’s another text from Roman.

Because she’s enjoying speaking with him. Because she seeks out opportunities even while working to check her phone and see if he’s text her. It’s not traditional communication, and she’s certain there’s no way in hell she’d be able to talk to him this freely, this comfortably if it was verbal.

Not a chance.

But in texting, she finds a level of ease that makes it significantly easier to get to know him. And maybe that’s what it is, she has some level of desire to get to know him more. If this “marriage” is to last, whatever that looks like, it feels like she needs to know more about him other than that he’s big, strong, and a killer.

Those traits more than speak for themselves, but there’s gotta be more, and there is. Like her now knowing he speaks three languages fluently and would like to pick up another someday if he ever has the time. Or that he works out at least twice every day and doesn’t feel right if he can’t get in at least one workout.

Similarly, Solana finds herself reciprocating his sharing of information, small facts that aren’t major but make a smidge of difference. Like her love of books and words. The few shows she enjoys. She especially doesn’t understand where that comes from. The sharing on her end. It’s something similar like her growing relationships with Bayley and Naomi.

But that’s different, so so different, for a variety of reasons. One, they’re women, and while anxiety is something she struggles with in interactions with all individuals, regardless of sex, it’s much easier with them than men.

And Roman is not the average man, far from it.

He scares her.

Or does he?

Solana has been struggling to make sense of the fear that often cripples her and the behavior he’s shown her thus far. They don’t add up. Sure, he’s expressed irritation and a level of anger towards her, but both were more than warranted. And even in those moments, there was still a level of control and composure. He didn’t scream at her. Didn’t belittle her. Didn’t hit her.

And his words from earlier that week circle back around to the front of her mind.

Even that day at her job.

He’s made it clear now two times that he has no plans or desire to ever hit her. Initially, that didn’t mean anything to Solana, because she’s never known a man in her life to never beat on her. The second time, it made her start to wonder if he was telling the truth.

And now, in a week of genuine and okay interactions, maybe even good interactions, that wondering of the truth is gradually meshing into believing.

Especially because something tells her Roman’s not a man to lie, not unless he’s playing one of his infamous mind games. And what reason would he have to play a mind game with her of all people?

She’s nobody.

But not enough of a nobody for him to end the conversation, which she’s expected all week but yet to see happen. Even more, a part of Solana feels like he’s also wanting to keep the conversation going, matching her with the questions vs just responding and leaving it as is.

And Solana appreciates it a lot, maybe even to the point where she’s gradually starting to appreciate him.

If she doesn’t already.

It’s why she doesn’t mind waking up earlier than she already does to fix breakfast and get ready for work to do something for him that she hopes he views as nice while he gets in his morning workout in the home gym.

Finished and almost too nervous to stay around for his response, she grabs the notebook, leaving a quick message before heading up the stairs to get in at least another hour of sleep as there’s still leftovers from yesterday’s breakfast.

Roman,

I noticed you tend to start off your breakfast with a protein shake. I saw how you make it, so I figured I’d just make it for you. Less for you to do.

Hope that was alright.

Solana

________

Roman didn’t plan to text and write Solana as often as he has. It just…..happened.

She was right in that communication does seem smoother and even easier through this channel. It’s also nice to “hear” her communicate without all that damn stuttering and stammering. Her texts and letters read so much better than actually listening to her speak aloud.

Not that her voice isn’t pleasing to some extent. It is. Soft and almost melodic, minus the fucking stutters.

Roman is in the middle of reviewing income spreadsheets when Jimmy walks into his office and

drops a stack of paperwork on top of Roman’s desk. He then plops down in one of two chairs opposite his cousin. “Solana’s medical records.”

Roman is pleased, thankful to the Wise Man for his promptness regarding his request.

“There is something you should know though.”

Instantly, Roman is annoyed, because he recognizes that tone of Jimmy’s. The tone that lets Roman know he’s not going to like what he’s about to hear. “What?”

“Apparently, information is missing.”

“What do you mean it’s missing? Find the fucking hospital that has them. I want all of her records.” Roman’s orders were clear as day, and he fucking hates when even with comprehensible issuance, there’s still a fucking problem.

“That’s all that’s available. Paul said the records indicate shit was deleted or something. Like cleared out of the system.” Before Roman can express his dissatisfaction and suggestions, Jimmy explains, “He said he consulted with Pearce to see if he could retrieve the files, but even he couldn’t get them. Something about systems changing over time and not being compatible. You know, all that tech shit Pearce be talking.”

Roman was right. As always. He’s annoyed.

Because he knows exactly who would have had a hand in something like this.

Xavier.

He expresses as such. “It was Xavier. Son of a bitch probably had it deleted somehow.” Roman knows Miller has hands and ties in the medical community as well as social services, though that power and leverage has definitely dwindled over the years due to Miller’s mounting financial problems. However, around the time Solana was a kid was very much the peak of Miller’s paltry empire.

“What exactly are you looking for, man?” Jimmy asks, trying to get a read on his cousin, never an easy feat. If at all possible. “I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s obvious Solana been through some shit. You really need to know all of it?”

It’s a sound question that Roman isn’t certain he has the answer for. Knowing just what Solana has been through could be helpful in helping him understand her better, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t know why he’s even bothering with that. Why does he even need to understand her better?

“I mean, just what happened to her mom could be the reason for a lot of her….struggles.”

“That’s part of it.” Roman’s certain of that, but he also knows there’s more. “Her father and brother were abusive.”

At that, Jimmy appears shocked. “What?” His expression quickly turns into a scowl. “That’s why you had us handle up on ole’ boy? You should have said that was why. Would have broke that bitch left hand too.”

“I’m going to kill them both before all is said and done.” And that’s a fucking promise, an oath. Their days are numbered. “But until then, I’ll keep them away from her.”

“That must piss them the fuck off.”

“Exactly.” Beyond making sure they don’t fucking touch Solana, Roman recognizes flexing his power and authority by cutting off all contact between them is something Miller and his boy must find infuriating. They’ve clearly thrived on controlling and torturing Solana, but that shit is over.

Solana is Bloodline now.

No one fucking touches her.

“Well.” Jimmy blows out a big breath and shrugs his shoulders. “I just hope you know what you doing, Big Dog.”

“Don’t I always.” Roman mutters, opening the manilla envelope to start going over the files. “Jimmy.”

“Yeah?”

“Have Naomi continue to do Solana’s training from the house.”

“Come on, man, my girl is already on that. She said Soso’s been getting better and better too. ” Jimmy answers, explaining, “I think she and Bey should be over there right about now anyway. Feels like they always over there these days.”

Roman wouldn’t entirely disagree. He gets regular updates from security regarding any and all happenings at his home, which includes a list of visitors, and Naomi and Bayley have been consistent on that list.

Roman also understands now why Solana hasn’t replied to his latest text.

Not that it bothers him. A lot, at least. He has shit to do anyway.

A couple minutes later, Jimmy leaves, and Roman is left alone to venture into the next task on his to-do list.

As expected, Solana’s medical records consist of a lot of emergency visits for accidents. Sprains. Broken bones. Fractures. Endless bruising, hematomas even. The visits eventually die down, but Roman suspects it’s not because the abuse stopped or paused. More likely they stopped taking her and she tended to her wounds herself.

But, the largest section of her records is the most telling.

Subjective: PT is a 16 y/o mixed race female currently admitted following SI attempt. PT was reportedly found in bathroom by family maid and transported to ER by ambulance where she was formally admitted. PT does not appear fully oriented to person, place, and time. PT offered minimal responses to questions and would only speak when prompted. PT denies auditory and visual hallucinations. PT reports wanting to be with mother who is deceased. PT reports no will to live. PT indicated yes with a head nod when asked about hx of sexual trauma. PT observed to become teary eyed following this acknowledgment and would not speak on nature of trauma. PT began to cry and moved into fetal position after being asked reasons for attempt. PT was heard repeating the question, “why didn’t you let me die?” PT became unresponsive after this exchange.

Assessment: PT presents with flat affect and depressed mood. Presents with poor insight and impulse control. PT’s wrists medically wrapped. Faded scars and bruises observed on PT’s arms, legs and partially faded bruise on left eye. PT also has scars on both arms and face, reportedly from knife attack during childhood.

Objective: PT does not appear stable enough to be released from care. Fx is severely impaired. I suspect a long history of complex trauma, confirmed sexual abuse, and suspected physical abuse. Medical records from client’s initial admission indicate “numerous” pre-existing cuts on PT’s inner forearms, indicating repeated incidents of self-harm. I deem PT to be an imminent danger to herself and suspect a release would result in another SI attempt.

Plan: I strongly recommend client be transferred to an adolescent residential facility or kept inpatient at hospital where she can be monitored and placed on medication regimen as well as participate in intensive individual and group therapy to assist in mood stabilization.

If released and left untreated, it is my belief and professional opinion that PT will eventually be successful in efforts to end life.

Diagnosis: F43.10 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder w/ Dissociation

Roman keeps reading over this section of the file, but there’s one part that stands out the most.

PT indicated yes with a head nod when asked about hx of sexual trauma.

That’s the part that Roman can’t seem to move past. He’s read it all. Every fucking word. And it’s all horrific. But, it’s that one sentence, that one damn sentence that confirms what he’d started to suspect, had gradually started to put the pieces together to see the much larger, darker picture.

She’d been touched. He doesn’t know to what extent, but regardless of the specific nature, at fucking sixteen years old, she’d already been violated.

A single swoop of his big arm across the desk sends all of the items once neatly situated sprawled across the cherry wood flooring. Roman stands up and slams his fist down on the table, head down as he tries to calm his suddenly shot nerves.

Livid. He’s livid.

The Bloodline is a lot of things but that has never and will be one of them. It only took one time for some fucking piece of shit to even suggest the Bloodline enter the world of Human Trafficing to increase their reach and profits even more for everyone to know that’s where the line in the sand is drawn.

Roman’s never put a fucking bullet in someone’s head so fast.

The same urge he has currently.

An urge that’s almost instantly lessened by a small amount when his phone lights up and a name appears across his lock screen.

Solana

Eyes shutting, Roman runs his hand over his face and snatches the phone, unlocking it to view her text.

Solana: What time will you be home tonight?

Instantly, Roman feels a lessening of his anger, reading her message, almost hearing said message in her gentle voice. It’s a distraction but both a reminder of why he’s all upset. Solana’s softness doesn’t equate with the violence she’s experienced, the violation, the pain. Especially as a fucking child. Roman has never understood and has always been especially infuriated by violence against children. There’s wrong and then there’s immoral.

That’s beyond immoral.

Roman will never deny he’s committed his fair share of sins, earning a VIP spot in hell when that time finally comes, but that is something he could and will never get behind.

Solana: Just so I know what time to have dinner ready by…..

Her follow up is typical, always explaining what she doesn’t have to.

Roman gives her the best reply he can muster up at this moment in time.

Roman: Not sure. Don’t worry about that. Probably won’t get in until late.

And he truly doesn’t know, because going home in this state of anger won’t do her any good. He told her he’d try to be mindful of his temper around her, and this is just that. He doesn’t want to scare her.

He needs an outlet.

But, here lies the fucking dilemma.

Since he was a teenager, Roman’s outlet has always been sex. He’s the type to fuck away his feelings. Working out also helps, but sex always took the cake, helped out sometimes just a smidge or a shit ton more.

And in a different kind of world, he’d do just that working out with the same woman he finds himself infatuated over. His dick stiffens in his pants thinking back on the picture Naomi sent and wisely unsent to his disrespectful ass cousins.

But not before he could save it to his camera roll.

Roman has never and will never deny his physical attraction to Solana. She checks every box for him in that category, but she’s not an option. He can’t touch her. He can’t touch her because some fucking piece of shit did just that to her when she was essentially a child, and now she can’t stand to be touched because of it.

Roman finds himself returning to his previous level of rage.

He needs to work this off him.

And he knows just how.

Grabbing his phone and switching from Solana’s thread to hers, he shoots out a simple text.

Roman: I’m coming over.

________

True to his word, Roman gets back late after an…..interesting visit to see Samantha. Somewhat worth it, but mostly now just another irritating thing he has to handle. Not that her being upset bothers him in the slightest.

She can fuck off and ride off into the sunset for all he cares.

Granted, the non-asshole side of him, more a small section than a side, can understand why she was upset with him.

He just can’t find it in him to give a fuck.

What he does find, however, is something else.

Roman steps into the living room and sees none other than Solana sleeping on the sofa. Confused, he quietly moves closer in her direction and sits opposite of her on the sturdy, mahogany wood coffee table.

And he watches her, studies her sleeping expression, wondering if she had another nightmare. The possibility drags him back to his earlier disposition, the reason he didn’t allow himself to come back to the mansion at a more reasonable time.

He didn’t want to expose her to that. To that side of him.

Without much thought, he reaches for her face, fingers gently caressing the smooth skin of her cheek. She feels so soft, a stark contrast against his roughness.

In more than one area.

He’s not sure if she felt his gesture or, like him, is just a light sleeper because her eyes slowly start fluttering open. He waits for her to become more aware and cognizant, and she does, whispering, “hey.”

He matches her low volume. “Hey.” Roman studies her, asking, “you alright?”

She nods, gradually sitting up, and he tries not to notice how instead of wearing the type of baggy shirts he’s noticed she likes to sleep in, she’s donning a thin sleeved top that accentuates her chest. “Yeah, I—” She closes her mouth, and he can tell by the way her brows furrow slightly that she’s trying to figure out how to word whatever she wants to say. “You seemed off. I just—just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I guess I fell asleep….”

It’s Roman’s turn now to not quite understand or make sense of what he’s hearing, so he asks, still in that subdued voice, “you waited up for me?”

Roman can’t recall the last time anyone cared when and even if he made it home. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. At all.

With a sheepish expression, she nods, “tried to, at least.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” And it’s the truth. He doesn’t know why she would in the first place anyway. “It was just….a long day.”

Solana nods, “I get that.” He also takes note of the fact that she’s not stammering as much, doesn’t seem as jittery as he’s used to seeing her. “I should—I guess I’ll go to bed now.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just sits back so she can stand up without him being too in her space. He especially understands now why that’s such a big thing for her.

But, it’s when she stands that his gaze seems to travel to her inner forearms, faded scars now having an even bleaker meaning as he now has the full story.

Another sentence from her medical report whizzes back to him.

If released and left untreated, it is my belief and professional opinion that PT will eventually be successful in efforts to end life.

He should write it. Roman knows this. Knows that she’d probably respond better and be more comfortable writing, but he also knows it makes him feel almost physically uncomfortable with having to wait to get a response.

He’s much too impatient for that shit.

He needs to say this shit now.

“Solana.”

She’s halfway to the staircase and turns around, “yes?”

Roman’s never been one to beat around the bush, so he gets straight to the point. “You used to cut, right?”

Always perceptive, Roman sees the shock in her face at his question, the unease that brews as she nervously runs her hand along the side of her cardigan pajama pants. “I—yes, but—not since….it’s been a long time.”

He half expected to have to ask her about the last time she actually did it, though he can tell by how faded the scars are that it has been quite some time, so he believes her. Knows she’s telling the truth.

Still, he needs to make something perfectly clear.

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Solana looks just as confused as he feels as to why this is suddenly important to him, important that she knows she can come to him if those dark thoughts and urges occur. But still, she agrees, acknowledging in that same small voice.

“I understand….”

________

The breeder is only about a half hour out from the mansion, allowing for a drive that’s on the shorter side than what Roman was initially anticipating.

Just like he successfully anticipated Solana’s nervousness throughout that entire drive. She keeps looking out the window, most likely trying to navigate where they’re going. And if not for the unexpected but necessary business call he had to take that lasted almost the entirety of the drive, he would have tried to calm her nerves.

He’s realizing he doesn’t like seeing her so on edge.

When they arrive, Roman is the first to exit the SUV, circling around to open the door for her. She offers a nervous smile and steps out, Roman’s eyes darting to her ass, the sway of it in her yoga pants as she moves a bit away, taking in the average two story house in front of them.

She looks back at him, and he redirects his focus to her eyes, big, brown, and just as innocent as the rest of her. “Where—where are we?”

Paul also steps out of the car, almost immediately coughing and waving at some flying insect that whizzed at him. “In the middle of nowhere.” He then sets his cautious gaze on Roman. “My Tribal Chief, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I have terrible allergies—”

“I don’t care.” Roman cuts him off, speaking to Solana, gesturing with a nod of his head. “Come with me.”

A part of him wonders if she’ll hesitate, freeze up on him, maybe even refuse. But she instead moves closer to him, walking along his side as he leads them up the steps of the porch. He reaches for the doorbell and is almost instantaneously met with the sound of barking. Interestingly enough, one glance down at Solana and he sees a spark of excitement that chips away at her nerves.

A couple seconds later, the door opens revealing a middle aged white woman wearing an inauthentic smile. The kind of smile someone forces for a business meeting or possible transaction.

“You must be Mr. Reigns?” She correctly guesses, eyes then landing on Solana. “And you must be the Mrs?”

Roman places his hand on the small of Solana’s back, noticing how she initially tenses but, surprisingly, relaxes just a few seconds later. “My wife, Solana.”

Solana offers a small wave and polite hello but nothing more.

“I’m Beverly.” She introduces, but Roman doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to know shit about her except whatever her price is. She steps aside, motioning for them to come in. “Please.” He allows Solana to walk in first, followed by himself. When Paul doesn’t also follow suit, Roman turns around. “Wise Man.”

Paul, complexion starting to become pinkish, politely declines. “I’ll just wait here—”

“Wise Man.”

“Coming, My Tribal Chief.”

Once all three are inside, Betty or whoever, offers something to drink which all three decline, shortly after which the woman asks, “so, are we looking for—”

“It’s for her.” Roman motions to Solana who looks at him still wholly confused as a teenage girl, who looks like the spitting image of her mother, descends down the stairs. “Whatever she wants.”

Betty’s eyes light up as she directs the teenager. “Honey, can you take her outside to see the puppies?”

“Sure.” The teen’s voice is annoyingly preppy, like nails on the chalkboard, like a fucking cheerleader or something. “Follow me.”

Solana again looks at Roman, as if for guidance, but he only nods, encouraging her to follow. She’s still reluctant—he can see as such—but ultimately follows the blonde out the backdoor.

As soon as she’s out the door. Betty starts with the irritating sales pitch, talking to him about the history of Pomeranians, the benefits of that breed, dietary guidelines and other things he couldn’t give two shits about. It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to take the business call the minute his phone rings and instead advises Paul to listen to the woman talk.

He moves to the front of the house, securing another layer of privacy and doesn’t even hesitate to walk right past a wheezing Paul to head out back where Solana is once the call is over.

Roman finds her outside in the spacious yet somehow closed in yard. She’s sitting in the grass, legs open as a tiny dog, a puppy, moves back and forth between sitting in Solana’s lap and running in a circle before coming right back to her. Roman realizes she’s playing with the freakishly small animal, but beyond that, she’s smiling.

And laughing.

Roman can’t recall the last time, if ever, he’s seen her do the latter of the two. Even her smile is much larger, much more genuine than he’s seen her offer in the short time he’s known her..

“That one.” The woman, Bonnie, who came outside at one point with Paul, moves toward Roman. “She wants that one.”

Bonnie steps forward and frowns, slapping on that disingenuous smile he’s learned how to read all too well with years of experience working with people. “Oh no, that one’s not supposed to be out there. My daughter must have forgotten to pull her.”

Roman really does try sometimes with people, but they always end up fucking annoying him one way or another. “She wants that one.”

The woman stutters. “I–I’m sorry, but that dog is already under contract.”

Rolling his eyes, he asks, surprisingly calmly, not wanting to necessarily cause a scene in front of Solana. “How much?”

“Pardon?”

Roman does his best to hide his irritation at having to repeat himself. “How much?”

Betty releases a nervous smile, crossing her arms across her badly built body. “I—I can’t sell you a dog that’s already under contract, sir.”

Politics. It’s all politics. Roman knew the second Betty’s smile grew as her eyes landed on his Hublot watch that she saw this as a great, unexpected windfall. And she’s not entirely wrong. “Everyone has a fucking price, lady. Name yours.”

She stutters again. “Sir, I—I appreciate the interest, but that dog comes from a champion bloodline. The buyers intend to show her, so they’re paying a pretty penny.” She throws out casually, as if he can’t tell what she’s trying to do, the deal she’s trying to see if she can score. “They’re paying $10,000—”

There it is. The sin of greed that gets us all at one point or another.

Without second thought or guess, Roman states, “I’ll give you $20,000.”

As expected, her eyes nearly bulge out of her head, the expression highlighting excessive crows feet no doubt caused by unnecessary time spent under this scorching sun. “$20,000?” He doesn’t even have to counter again. “Well, I suppose I could offer them another puppy—”

“Good.” Roman knew right away “negotiating” with this woman wouldn’t take much. She’s in it for a clean, high profit, which is fair considering one could say that for all business owners. But, if all else failed, he had…..other strategies. But those are much messier, and he’d rather just throw a stack of cash her way so they could be on their merry fucking way. “Wise Man.”

Paul steps forward, pudgy cheeks reddened and eyes watering. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Pay the woman.”

Paul swallows. “But, my—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s cheeks redden as he nods and motions to the house. Roman doesn’t need to say anything else. “I will handle the sale. Shall we?”

As Roman allows his counsel to handle the closing of the deal, he walks over to Solana who looks over at him with that same smile. He crouches down near her, observing, “she seems to like you.” And it’s the truth, seeing how the other puppies are content with playing with each other, this one is sticking with Solana.

She looks at Roman, petting the top of its head carefully, looking back down with that happy smile.“Thank you for taking me—”

“She’s yours.”

Her head snaps in his direction, right as the dog climbs into her lap. “W–what?” Solana blinks, face painted in plausible confusion. “M–mine?”

Roman chuckles. “It’s certainly not for me.”

“Really?” Roman watches the hairy ass creature stand on its legs, as if demanding her attention. Attention whore ass.

“Yes, if you want her—”

“Yes,” she answers almost immediately, suddenly. And true to her nature, she’s already backtracking. “I mean—“

“You want her, so she’s yours,” he reiterates his previous statement, but there’s a tone of finality that lets Solana know he’s not open to a discussion or debate.

It’s a sure thing.

“She’d be your dog. Not mine.” He clarifies. Solana can tell it’s also his way of telling her he’s not doing shit to help her take care of this dog, which is more than fair since Solana would bet he had no plans to purchase a dog anytime soon.

So why is he?

She just has to ask again. “You don’t—-you really don’t care?”

It feels unreal. Too much like not an option. Not a reality. Why would he allow her a pet? Buy her a pet?

He eyes the animal that’s seemingly already taken so well to Solana. “She’s so damn small I’ll probably forget she’s there half the time.”

There’s that laugh again, and Roman finds himself with a small smile of his own, not as big, nor as genuine, but a smile nonetheless. But just as quick as it’s there, it’s gone. Clearing his throat, he asks, “what are you gonna name her?”

Solana looks down at the puppy in her lap, nestled so comfortably against her stomach, eyes fluttering close like she’s about to fall asleep. With a soft smile and gentle caress of her coat, she answers. “Dulce.”

Roman’s thick brows arch together as he asks, “is that Spanish?”

She nods, glancing over at him just long enough to answer. “It means sweet.”

He makes a sound. That lines up. For both of them.

The dog's eyes then land on him with as much disinterest he feels about it, quickly focusing back on Solana. “I suppose we’ll have to get supplies and shit for her.”

Roman doesn’t consider himself having a childhood, so he refers to what most call just that as his ‘formative year.’ And during those formative years, he never had a pet, so this is new to him as well, outside of just the common sense parts of owning a dog.

She’s petting the sleeping puppy “Aren’t you busy today?”

Yes. Always. Roman’s to-do list is on subscribe and save, constantly delivering him new shit when he’s still working on the old shit. It’s just a part of the job though.

“No,” he answers. “It can wait.”

________

A couple of stops at different stores to pick up all of the shit Solana needs for Dulce along with getting the first vet appointment scheduled for the puppy takes just under three hours, which still grants Roman plenty of time to head into the office. Not until, though, he makes sure Solana is good to go, good with being left alone with the dog.

He meant it when he said it was her dog and he wouldn’t be helping out and shit, but given it’s the first day, he can see how there could be some nerves there.

But, there’s not. She’s good to go, hence his okayness with leaving for a little while to get some work done.

She doesn’t text him as much during the day, a noticeable thing that he understands is because she’s spending time with the dog.

But, he does come home for lunch to get in a workout where he finds an entry in the notebook.

Roman,

Thank you so much.

I promise I’ll take care of her and keep her out of your way. Paul’s too. I’ll keep her in the room with me when he’s over.

I always wanted a dog, but my dad hates them, and even if he didn’t, I was always too scared Wes would do something to it or worse….just to hurt me. He hates me, if you didn’t notice….

Solana

Roman doesn’t take much, if any time, to reply. He’d prefer to talk to her in person, but Bayley and Naomi are over, the three women in the backyard playing with the dog. So, he allows her that time, settling for a written response.

Solana,

You’re welcome.

Don’t worry about Paul. He won’t fucking die from allergies, and if he does, oh well.

I noticed. It’s why I’ll never leave you alone with him or your shitty father. Ever.

Why does he hate you?

Roman

Solana is partially upset when she realizes she missed Roman coming home for a workout, not that she wanted to bother him, just maybe….see him. Maybe even talk to him. Possibly tell him thank you again in person vs writing it in the notebook, but after Naomi and Bayley are gone and she’s fed Dulce her dinner, Solana sees Roman replied, leaving the notebook on her bed this time.

Most likely for privacy.

The first part of his note makes her laugh, even if she doesn’t enjoy Paul clearly suffering from his allergies. The second part, however, Solana struggles with.

She doesn’t know how honest to be with Roman, doesn’t know where she should draw that line in the sand. However, it’s not missed upon her that everything she’s shared with him, he’s been surprisingly okay with. Never having such a major reaction that it made her second guess her sharing.

And the man just bought her a fucking dog, something she’s always wanted. For no apparent reason.

Maybe….maybe she can be a bit more honest, a bit more forthcoming, even if it is a somber truth.

Roman,

I don’t want to inconvenience Paul. That’s not fair to him….

Wes blames me for our mother’s murder, says it was my fault.

And he’s not wrong.

She is dead because of me.

Solana

The minute Solana brings the notebook to Roman’s room, she regrets it. She regrets opening up, regrets being so vulnerable with him. Just because he answers her questions and bought her a puppy doesn’t mean he gives two shits about her trauma.

She’s so tempted to sneak into his room and take the journal back. It keeps her up, makes her toss and turn as Dulce sleeps peacefully in her pink dog bed beside Solana’s.

But, it’s when Solana wakes up at 4am and notices the notebook on her nightstand, her anxiety reaches another level. Instead of avoiding it until morning, she sits up and snatches it, flipping to the page they’re on.

And her stomach achieves a new level of butterflies when she reads his response.

Solana,

It’s not your fault.

Also, you were wrong.

I care what you have to say and think.

Roman

#roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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neteyamkink · 2 years

Note

cold neteyam meeting the clan’s sweetheart and having a soft spot for her but tries not to be obvi with it (everyone can lowkey tell though through the little gestures he does) that ends in smut when theyre alone and he wants to corrupt her innocence and reputation👀👀

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! sorry this took me so long i’m so slow 😭

paring: aged up!neteyam x metkayina reader

warnings: mean neteyam :( (he’s in love though), my first time writing smut in veryyyy long >.<, degrading, use of “slut”, “princess”, “sweetheart, lil corruption kink?, swearing ofc, disgusting smut idfk

At first, you thought it was the new environment making him so distant and rude. Eventually, you started to think it might've been just you, he had no problem talking with anyone else in the clan. Just you. Little did you know the reasoning behind that was that he was in deep denial about his feelings towards you. He hated the way you made him feel so vulnerable and helpless. So he had to hate you, right?

You'd try to reach out to him and try to start a conversation, but he would always turn you down with a, "I'm busy," or, "leave me alone." You couldn't lie it kind of hurt your feelings. everyone loved you, how could he not?

One afternoon most of the young adults and teenagers were hanging around a fire, the sullys and all of your friends included. You sat there crushing up herbs to make spices and listening in on the conversation everyone was having.

"Y/n stop being so quiet," Kumi spoke, you didn't like Kumi very much only because he was a part of ao'nung’s little bully crew.

"I'm busy, I'm listening though," You smiled still trying to be nice to him even though you really just wanted to tell him to fuck off. What can you say though? You were minding your business obviously focused on something else.

"Oh come on since when were you anti-social," Kumi laughs, now he has interrupted the group's conversation and everyone's attention was on you two.

"I'm not, sorry I'll chime in," you quickly said realizing this whole thing was interrupting the group. You hated yourself for apologizing for being busy, but you didn't want to disturb the group and make a big deal out of the whole situation.

"Why are you making her apologize? She's obviously busy dumb ass," Neteyam suddenly chimed in. Your eyes shot up to him, but he was already looking at you. He scrunched up his face and looked away crossing his arms.

"oh no it's okay, neteyam," you scrambled to find the correct words and suddenly your heart was running miles a minute.

"Whatever," he scoffed not bothering to look in your direction. Suddenly your heart felt like it was dropping into your stomach and the frown that was on your face was inescapable.

Later in the day after the fire, you decided you would figure this out. No one is allowed to not like you. Neteyam usually would go into the trees to practice archery late after dinner. Even though he had to learn the ways of these new people he was determined to not forget the ways of his own. How did you know this? Kiri is your new best friend.

Determined to befriend the forest boy you set out into the forest to find him, and of course, he was exactly where Kiri said he would be. You decided to sit back and watch before going up to him. He set up a practice station with a bunch of fruits hanging from trees. You watched him draw back his bow and arrow, His back and arm muscles flexed and his blue skin looked so glossy and smooth under the moonlight. fuck y/n, focus. He released his arrow and it went straight through the fruit and into the tree behind it.

"Impressive," you spoke up slowly walking out of the tree and bushes you were behind. His head snapped in your direction and once he saw who it was he rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you smiled sweetly, attempting to use the charm that had worked on others on him.

"You didn't," he scoffs grabbing an arrow from the group and pulling it through his bow. You thought archery was so cool... and he looked so hot doing it. focus, y/n.

"what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he asks releasing his arrow and landing it perfectly in the middle of the fruit. damn, he's good.

"I came to talk to you about something. Kiri told me where you might be," You spoke stepping a little closer towards him. He didn't look away from his targets.

"I hope you know earlier today was not me defending you. I just don't like kumi," though his tone was even and calm his words were harsh and hurtful. Does he really not like you that much?

"Why are you so mean to me?" You randomly blurted out with a pout formed on your face. Your mouth moved before you could think about what was coming out of it and as soon as the words came out you wanted to shove them right back in. You usually were never this straightforward or harsh with anyone. He turned to you and quirked his brow like he was shocked.

shit was he being too harsh? he thought. He just couldn't stand the way you made him feel. The way the innocent look in your eyes made his insides all tingly. The way that one look made him want to get on top of you and ruin those innocent eyes. fuck those eyes that you're giving him right now. Why do you have to torture him like this?

"Am I really?" he said dropping his bow and taking steps closer and closer toward you. Suddenly your throat was dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You took steps back as he got closer, too scared of what you might do if he got any closer. Too scared of what those yellow eyes burning through you might do to you.

"mhm," you hummed, heart racing as if you had just run to the moon and back.

"I can show you mean," he smirked. a gasp left your mouth when your back suddenly bumped into the bark of a tree, he had you cornered. And fuck you don't know what he meant by that but whatever he did you wanted it so badly. He looked as if he was going to eat you alive and my eywa you were begging he would.

"teyam..." you stuttered, putting your hands up to rest on his chest. "Teyam, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were practically begging him to ruin you. your eyes looked up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a pout. Fuck you drove him crazy.

"Say it," the smirk plastered on his lips makes your knees grow weak and you almost buckle over.

You can speak so you just push his neck down and smash your lips onto his. He wastes no time responding and kissing back. His sweet lips were rough against yours and the only thing you both could think about is why you didn't do this sooner. Everyone saw the tension between you two except for you. In the back of your mind, you knew you had been waiting for this moment.

"jump," he mumbles against your lips. You're quick to follow his instructions and jump, his strong arms catch you his hands have a firm grip cupping your ass. The tree you are pushed up against rubs against your porcelain skin.

"All you do is act so sweet and innocent around the others. I know what you really are," he speaks in between sloppy kisses. His words go straight to your brain and suddenly your head is all fuzzy and wonky. He moves from Your lips down to your neck, and your neck down to your collar bone, and your collar bone down to a little above your breast. then he repeats kissing, sucking, licking.

Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, and his braids felt rough in your hands. Your lips parted slightly to make way for the small hums and moans falling from them.

"need you right now, mk?" neteyam backs away from your neck to speak. you nod without hesitation, fuck you are so ready. The pool between your legs had been forming ever since he backed you into the tree.

"use your words, princess," The nickname darted straight to your pussy.

"yes, I need you," you spoke trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a low groan and reached one hand down to your loincloth, His big hand dragging across your wet slit.

"fuck," you gasped and bit your lip.

"All this for me?" he questions his lips curving into the stupidest grin. You simply nodded and tugged his hair tighter. He circled his finger around your clit a couple of times, making sure to get you nice and wet. small moans escaped from your mouth as you pawed at his loin cloth ready for more. You could feel him painfully hard against your palm.

“need you teyam,” you choked out, practically begging him to fuck you. He stopped his movements around your clit and looked you in the eyes. He was ready too. You looked up at him and batted your eyes, your eyes begged him for something- no… anything more.

“fuck, okay,” he quickly gave in undoing the knot of his loincloth with his free hand and letting it drop to his feet. He grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance rubbing it up and down your slit. His hands practically shook with excitement.

“you sure?” he asks pausing before he goes any further. Without hesitation, you aggressively nod your head.

“words, ma ‘evenge (my girl),” the nickname drove you crazy causing the pool between your legs to get bigger and bigger.

“yes, teyam please,” you pleaded hands gripping the hair on his neck tighter. Immediately he was bullying his cock through your walls. When he entered you, you both gasped out of pleasure. The feeling of you being filled up makes your head go spinning, and the feeling of your warm walls around Neteyam makes him dizzy.

“oh, my eywa,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and quickly snaps his hips back into yours. Your head swings back into the tree behind you and he uses both of his hands to cup for ass to support you. Back aching from being forced onto the rough bark behind you.

“Fuck baby,” he groans increasing his pace with every thrust. His nails dug into the plush of your ass and he couldn’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck. Kissing, sucking, licking, and sometimes sinking his sharp fangs into your collarbone.

“You feel so good,” you whine bucking your hips up at him to meet him halfway, your body was begging for more.

“I need more,” you pleaded pushing his neck closer to you and shoving his body against yours, leaving sloppy kisses all over his shoulder. You needed to be closer to him, you needed to feel every movement he made, hear every breath he took, and kiss every inch you could.

“I know you want it so bad, huh baby?” his voice sounds sympathetic but he’s just being a meanie. His thrusts grow faster and faster, harder and harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head due to the amount of pure bliss you were in.

“Fuck I been waiting to fuck you for so long. Ruin that pretty little innocent act you put on,” he practically growls into your neck. Your nails dig into his back.

“Please ruin me,” You begged, he scoffed at how needy and pathetic you were for him. He knew you weren’t as innocent as everyone made you out to be, so he was gonna fuck you like you weren’t.

“You’re all mine now,” he smirks against your collarbone as he sucked and bit marking you up so everyone would know he was yours and you were his.

“Say it ma ‘evenge,” he demanded.

“‘m all yours teytey,” you choked out through your moans. The knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second and any second now you would cum.

“Please can I cum tey?” you begged, scratching up his back and marking him in your own way.

“Admit it, admit you’re a fucking slut,” His stern voice pulsated throughout your whole body sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a slut,” you manage to choke out through your pants. His thrusts are becoming sloppy but his pace is still quick. You know he’s close.

“who’s slut are you?” He questions biting into your neck, his fangs so deep they feel like they’re going to draw blood.

“yours, teyam. All yours,” you breathe, his breaths quicken with yours and he throws his head back unable to take the pleasure anymore. You have to cum before him.

“cum, princess,” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, your a mess crumbling underneath him. Pleasure takes over your body and causes your head to throw back and your back to arch off the tree. The way your walls tighten around him sent him over. His thrusts became sloppy as his white ropes shot into you.

“I know, baby. I know,” He shushed you as you both came down from your high caressing your face with one of his hands and holding you up with the other.

“everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” he smirked admiring the attacks he left on your neck.

#avatar #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #fanfic #neteyam x reader

2K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 4 months

Note

Would you ever write a prequel to Sharing is Caring? Like when Leon says to Chris, “Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” or when he’s just talking to reader about how wet she gets when thinking about someone else watching her with Leon, would you ever write a small drabble or something based on that scenario that obviously took place before the threesome with Chris? I hope you understand what I mean! 😭

yeah bb i got you <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

prequel to this fic

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, guided masturbation, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, exhibitionism, threesome w/ chris, p in v, blowjobs, and cum

so when i wrote that part, i was thinking it happened on multiple occasions between reader and leon. this is how i believe one of those times would go *dream harp music and dissolve transition*

Today had been a lazy day for you and Leon since the two of you woke up that morning. The bedroom was dim from the overcast sky outside, and music played softly in the background as you and your boyfriend cuddled in bed and talked about nothing. It was your personal heaven on earth. The prettiest slice of paradise you could imagine.

You laughed at his corny jokes while he entertained random questions you’d asked him. Eventually the conversation reached a lull, and in the brief pause, you remembered something you’d been meaning to ask him.

“We’re still going to that work dinner for you on Friday, right?” you ask, glancing over at him.

“Mhm,” he responds, “Why?”

“Gotta get my nails done,” you answer.

He can’t help smiling at that. The effort you put in for him was adorable.

“Yeah? What color you gonna do this time?” he asks.

“Red.”

“Why red?” he says, reaching over to stroke your cheek.

“Cause aren’t guys supposed to like red the most?” you say as if it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know I like what you like, baby,” he chuckles and leans in to kiss your neck.

“Yeah, but it’s a dinner full of guys. I gotta impress them for you. Can’t have your work people thinking your girlfriend is less than the best,” you say.

He exhales sharply at your attitude, finding it funny.

“So you’re painting your nails for other men?” he teases, “Be careful or I might get jealous.”

A smile rises to your lips, and you squirm a little from the way he’s kissing your neck. In truth, Leon loved showing you off. It drove him up the wall when guys’ stares would linger on your cleavage or cast down to your backside. They could look all they wanted, but you were all his. And you knew he felt that way, which is why it drove you a special type of crazy when he’d play with you like this.

“No, I'm painting them for you. So your work guys will be impressed and jealous of you,” you say.

“Ahh, I see,” he says, feigning realization, “You want them all to see that you’re such a good girl, right?”

His voice drops and it hits you straight between your legs. You fidget a little, masking your desire with a laugh. Nodding playfully, you act as if it’s a joke rather than your honest motivation.

“That’s why I gotta wear a pretty dress too,” you tease back.

“I see. It better not show off too much though, else I might have to take you over my knee right then and there. They rent out a private dining room, y’know. I could do it. Show them all how I keep my good girl in line,” he whispers.

He nips at your throat, and now you’re officially turned on. The heat in your cheeks and neck migrate south to fester between your hips. Your thighs rub against one another in a pathetic attempt to sate yourself for the time being. He notices of course, and that only means he’s not stopping any time soon.

“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he breathes, “You’d like getting to whine and pout while everyone watches you get put in your place, hm?”

Tingles spread throughout your chest through your tummy. His hand slips beneath your shirt and rubs up and down your side. The painfully slow pace of his palm brings chills over you.

“Answer me,” he whispers.

“Yeah, I’d like it,” you say. Your voice was short and quiet as it often was in moments like these.

He chuckles and moves his hand up to your breast. Your nipples had stiffened into little peaks against the cloth of your top. He pinches one as he licks a stripe up your neck.

Shuddering, you whine for him, “Leon.”

“If you said that in front of them, that’d earn you a couple more smacks. What are you supposed to call me?” he prompts.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself with a whimper.

“That’s my girl,” he croons.

His hand continues to fondle your breast for a few moments more before his hand leaves your chest and grabs your jaw. He tilts your head in his direction, so you have to look in his eyes.

“That’s what you’d cry out in front of all of daddy’s friends. That’d really show ‘em you’re a good girl. It’d show ‘em more than any dress or color on your nails,” he says before connecting his lips with yours.

He kisses you deeply, slipping some tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head to keep you close. His movements lead yours, luring you further into the lustful exchange with him. When he pulls back, you’re breathless with puffy, wet lips. His eyes have clouded with the desire to toy with you.

Now his hand slides down to your panties. The pretty garment had already started to dampen and cling to your cunt. He pets you over the barrier, teasing you with the anticipation of what’s to come.

“You’d be perfect, spread across my lap, ass out in these cute little things. Which pair would you wear?” he teases, nuzzling you as his fingers start to increase the pressure.

“The ones you bought me for my birthday,” you answer.

“Good choice,” he grins, “You’d look so precious in those, even more with your skirt bunched up over the top of them.”

You squirm a bit, wanting more from him, but he keeps up the same light caresses to your center.

“I know you’d love it, babydoll. I can just see it,” he whispers, “You’d love being the center of attention, having all those eyes on you. You know they’d all talk about you too. They’d talk like you weren’t even there. They’d talk about how pretty and cute you are, how sweet you look while taking your spanking, how much they want a girl like you all to themselves.”

All you can respond with is a soft whine. Your heels slide against the mattress as you fight to maintain some sliver of composure. And he continues running his mouth.

“They’d all get so hard for you, princess. Especially Chris. He’s gonna be there on Friday. He’s got a little crush on you,” he teases.

That snaps you out of your lustful daze. You’d met Chris a few times before this. He was nice enough. The two of you didn’t really have anything in common except Leon.

“He does not,” you say softly, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows raise with amusement. “Does too,” he insists.

“He does not. You just want someone to tease me with,” you say before his mouth is back on yours, silencing your words with a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. He does. Bet he strokes it to you every night,” he murmurs against your lips.

You don’t want to admit the spark of heat that strikes in your belly at the thought of that. You’d be lying if you told Leon you didn’t find Chris attractive. He fits right in with your type. He was older, big and muscular, and condescendingly affectionate. All you can muster in response is a muffled “no he doesn’t.”

“Mhm, I can tell by the way he looks about you. And he’s always asking about you too. He’s got a thing for you, sweetheart. Wishes he could be your daddy instead of me,” he says. His voice comes out husky from the close proximity to you.

A little moan slips from your lips just as his hand slides into your panties to play with your clit. The pad of his middle finger finds it with ease. With the amount of times he’s made you cum, he’s sure he could find it while he’s sleeping. He presses down on the swollen bud and swirls his digit lightly.

“I know he’d love to see you get spanked like a little brat. But his favorite part would be the ending. The part where all those smacks have knocked some sense into you and you’re back to being a good girl. I think he’d jizz his pants if he saw your puppy eyes while you begged me to stop,” he whispers.

More arousal drips from you as you picture the scene your boyfriend is setting. You still weren’t fully convinced Chris was into you, but fuck, it was hot to imagine he was. Your mind conjures visions of his eyes locked on you. In your fantasy, he’s flushed, lip between his teeth as he wishes he could have a turn. He palms himself over his pants lazily, not putting in enough effort to distract him from the sight before his eyes. Your voice would be begging for Leon to stop, but your eyes would be begging for him.

Leon can see how into the idea you are so he continues. Simultaneously, his finger down below increases its pace on your bundle of nerves.

“You like thinking about that?” he coos mockingly, “But that’d be kind of cruel, wouldn’t it? Dangling you in front of him like that. Maybe I’d have to give the poor guy a break, let Chris come along with us after all the others had gone their own way. Let him see just how good you are for your daddy in private.”

Your eyes are starting to gloss with desire as he draws you further into this dream.

“Would you like that, honey? Letting Chris see this beautiful body, letting him see how well you can behave when you want to. If you were really really good, maybe I’d even let him play with you too,” he purrs.

Internally, your heart jolts. You had never brought up your interest in threesomes to Leon. He knew you had a bit of an affinity for being watched, but the potential conversation about being shared scared you. It was something that turned you on like damn near nothing else, but in reality, you weren’t certain of it. Plus, if he wasn’t into it, it’d be something you could never come back from.

The relief you felt from him bringing it up on his own was immeasurable.

You nod to answer his question.

“Use your words, babydoll,” he says.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praises.

His hand slides down to cup your pussy before he pushes two fingers into your cunt. You whine at the intrusion, but your hole was used to the sensation. He had your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering within a couple of pumps.

“You could sit in my lap while he fucked you. I’d hold you the whole time like the sweet thing you are while he stretched you out,” he says, “Or we could take turns with you, one after the other, fucking you till you were seeing stars.”

You nod again and arch your back slightly. “Please daddy. Want that,” you whimper.

“I know you do, sweet girl. I wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed though. Your mind has less stamina than that pretty pussy does,” he teases.

Your lip juts out into a pout at his taunt, but it’s quickly wiped away by a mewl that erupts from you when he curls his fingers inside you.

“I think it might be better to let Chris fuck you and get you all warmed up for me. Then I could take over, and you could suck him off. I’d make that cute cunt cry on my cock for a while, and you could get a taste of him. I know you love having something in your mouth.”

“Yeah daddy,” you whine.

He rubs his palm against your clit as his fingers fly back and forth, working you closer towards the edge. In the same rhythm he was grinding his bulge on your hip. He was rock hard beneath his boxers. The hypothetical situation was clearly getting to him just as much as it was getting to you.

“I’d be the one fucking your pussy full of cum just like you needed. And if you’d shown Chris what a perfect angel you are, I’d let you choose if he came in your mouth or all over your gorgeous face,” he says.

His eyes close as he rolls his hips with a little more force. He throbs in his boxers. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss your neck a few times before speaking again.

“I know you’d probably pick swallow, but I think all of us would love to see your face painted with his cum. Maybe let him pretend for a second that you belong to him,” he grunts.

“I’d pick on my face cause I know you’d wanna see it,” you whimper. And it was true. The most pleasurable thing in the world was Leon’s approval. It brought you more satisfaction than any orgasm or cum shot ever could.

“Such a good girl,” he moans, “That’s my baby. Another guy’s cum on your face, but all you can think to do is please your daddy.”

Both of you hit your highs almost in time with each other. You’re a little quicker than Leon which is fortunate since he loses precision when he cums. You feel like you burn into a blaze of euphoria when it hits, your body rapidly heating up. It’s like you’re light as a feather and floating through a blissful abyss of comfort. He cums in a more intense burst. His hips buck against the plush flesh of your hip. He locks his free hand on you to keep you close so he can thrust against your warmth till he’s empty.

The two of you lay there for a few moments after, taking a second to calm down. You feel like you could fall asleep at any second. You barely register Leon stumbling out of bed to clean himself up and change. He hits the fan on the way back to bed,which you’re grateful for.

As soon as he’s back in bed, you roll over and drape your limbs across him. He nuzzles the side of your head with a few kisses.

“You need a nap now, baby?” he asks softly.

“Mhm,” you mumble back.

“Close your eyes for me then, pretty girl. Get some rest,” he says before smirking and whispering in your ear, “Just promise me you’re not gonna dream about Chris now.”

You whine and lightly jab your knee against his ribs.

“Shut up, Leon.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut

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malaierba · 4 months

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That one person that tagged a post focusing on Toshiro and Namari hanging out, with "Namari probably bought Toshiro a beer and changed his life" left such an impression on my brain.

Latinx moots may know the comedian Franco Escamilla, there's this story he tells about going to London and ordering a beer except no one warned him that its alcohol percentage was like 7% (in Mexico the highest in 5% but most are like 3% or something idk, correct me if I'm wrong).

So yknow how it goes, it hits him like a truck coming from his blind spot, he's suddenly everyone's friend, starts saying stuff he shouldn't, eventually reaches the point where he's just fast forwarding in time and teletransporting, dies on his bed.

Okay well, you get the general idea of what I'm imagining lol. Namari buys Toshiro a beer bcs he seems like a reasonable guy, just a bit uptight, maybe it'll help him loosen up?

She misses the moment when Toshiro's walls crumble down with the power of alcohol. Suddenly he's openly praising her combat skills and weaponry knowledge, made him feel better about being abducted into Laios team, "what do you mean by that?", suddenly he's complaining about the whole "he came up to me, told me I look weird, misheard my name etc", it's unexpected and kind of funny.

She gets him to tell her a little about his family, more about swords, they're in the middle of retelling something or the other that happened the day before that was a little funny (Chilchuck being the straight man to Laios in a particularly creative way, maybe Marsille's attempt at solving a situation with a fire explosion and failing the task successfully, etc).

At this point she kind of wants to show this unexpected development to someone, anyone, at the very least Chilchuck, so she tries to drag Toshiro to wherever the rest is staying, except that by now Toshiro's logical thinking is more alcohol than rational thinking. He gets lost a couple of times, each time she finds him either somewhere unexpected (very still besides a statue, seems like he thought he was waiting in line) or talking to randos he'd never approach sober (some other drunk tall man grabbed him as if to dance with him and he tried to play along! She saw him dance!?).

She's determined but this side quest IS getting kind of long. The moment she spots a bench she hauls his ass princess style over there, so they can sit for a minute and rest.

They end up being found by Chilchuck the next morning, who dutifully wakes them up to ask them wtf do they think they're doing sleeping outside like a couple of dogs, though only after getting out a pen and doodling on their foreheads.

He at least helps Namari drag Toshiro back (man is more dead than alive), although he never believes her when she tells him that Toshiro has bizarre yet oddly rhythmical moves.

#/ends up writing something that is almost a fic but isn't like a dumbass #anyways the two of them learn to better manage Toshiro's drinking pace after that so it doesn't really happen again #toshiro nakamoto #namari #they're work besties your honour #rambles #dunmesh rambles #Dungeon Workwives

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shitsndgiggs · 2 months

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kenan who ditches your date for his girl best friend (no cheating) and you wanted to tell him that you were pregnant. he comes to the place eventually and sees you left. he comes home, but you dump him. later, he sees you with a baby bump at the grocery store and idk just groveling kenan until you make up with him 💓 happy ending always 💓

REBUILDING US - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan ditched your date

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I sat at our favorite restaurant, the one where Kenan and I had shared countless dinners, anniversaries, and even our first date.

Tonight was supposed to be special, a night to celebrate our love and to share the news that would change our lives forever.

I was pregnant, and I couldn't wait to see the look on Kenan's face when I told him.

But as the minutes turned into an hour, my excitement turned into worry, and then into disappointment.

I tried calling him, but his phone went straight to voicemail. My heart sank. I paid the bill and left, fighting back tears as I walked to my car.

____

Kenan rushed through the streets, his heart pounding with a mix of guilt and panic. He was late—so late that he feared Y/N might have already left.

He mentally kicked himself for getting caught up with Lara's issues, even though he genuinely wanted to help his friend.

But now, all he could think about was Y/N and how disappointed she must be.

As he finally arrived at the restaurant, he scanned the tables, searching for her familiar face. His heart sank when he didn't see her. He approached the hostess, his anxiety palpable.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice strained. "I was supposed to meet someone here, a woman named Y/N. Did she already leave?"

The hostess checked her reservation list, then looked up at him with sympathy. "Yes, she left about an hour ago. I'm sorry."

Kenan's shoulders slumped, and he muttered a thank you before turning to leave. He felt a heavy weight of regret pressing down on him. He knew he had messed up, and now he had to face the consequences.

When he got home, the silence was deafening. He called out for Y/N, but there was no response. He checked every room, his worry growing with each step.

Finally, he sat on the couch, burying his face in his hands. What had he done?

Days turned into weeks, and Kenan's attempts to reach out to Y/N were met with silence. He sent messages, left voicemails, and even sent flowers to her apartment, but she remained distant.

The pain of her absence was unbearable, and he couldn't shake the image of her disappointed face from his mind.

____

The grocery store felt like the last place I’d see Kenan. But as I turned a corner, there he was, standing right in front of me. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze, unsure of how to react.

"Y/N," he called out, his voice wavering as he approached me.

I turned to face him, my eyes widening in surprise. "Kenan," I said, my tone guarded. I instinctively rested my hand on my baby bump, feeling both protective and vulnerable.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on my belly. "I... I didn't know," he stammered, clearly shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I felt a mix of sadness and anger. "I tried to, Kenan. That night at the restaurant, I was going to tell you. But you weren't there."

His face contorted with regret. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I was with Lara. She needed me, but I should have been with you. I made a huge mistake."

I looked down, my hand gently caressing my bump. "It's been hard," I admitted. "But I've managed. I'm doing what I need to for my baby."

Tears filled Kenan's eyes. "Please, let me be a part of this. I know I messed up, but I want to be there for you and our child. I'll do anything to make it right."

I hesitated, torn between the love I still felt for him and the pain he had caused me. "I need to know I can trust you," I said softly. "That you'll put us first."

"I promise," he said, his voice firm. "I love you, Y/N. I never stopped. And I want to prove to you that I'm committed to our family."

I looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity. "It's going to take time," I said finally, feeling my resolve waver. "But I don't know if I can trust you again. You hurt me, Kenan."

He looked devastated but nodded. "I understand. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Please, just give me a chance."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision before me. "I need time," I said. "This isn't something that can be fixed overnight."

Kenan nodded again, his eyes filled with hope and determination. "I'll wait as long as it takes. I just want to be there for you and our baby."

As we walked out of the store together, I felt a mix of emotions. Part of me wanted to believe in his promises, to give him a chance to make things right.

But another part of me was still hurt, still wary of letting him back into my life.

Over the next few weeks, Kenan made good on his promise. He called and texted regularly, offering to help with anything I needed.

He attended doctor's appointments and helped set up the nursery. Slowly, my anger began to fade, replaced by a cautious optimism.

One evening, as we sat on the couch together, he reached for my hand. "I know I've put you through a lot," he said, his voice sincere. "But I want you to know that I love you, and I'm committed to being a good father and partner."

I looked into his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through me. "You've been trying," I acknowledged. "And it means a lot. But it's still hard for me to forget what happened."

"I understand," he said, squeezing my hand gently. "But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We can take it one day at a time."

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I nodded. "One day at a time," I repeated, feeling a glimmer of hope.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz

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007reid · 11 months

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omg, i’m learning to crochet and i’m just imagining crocheting spence a scarf and him wearing it all the time

JUST IMAGINE

he’d be so touched that you made something for him with your bare hands

it would be one his favourite items, ever (folded neatly in his top draw when he’s not wearing it)

it wouldn’t matter if a few chains are wonky, he’d love it either way

i just imagine derek and emily taking the piss out of him for wearing it all the time. oh but penelope absolutely loves it!

anyways- yeh i’m crocheting

- 🦕 xx

written super fast cus i got inspired and not proof read, sorry guys

also i have not crocheted or have ever shown interest in crocheting my whole life so everything i made up so plz ignore the mistakes 😓enjoy!

scarf. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

to tell you that you’re good at crocheting would be lying to you but you don’t think that spencer is lying at all, because of course for a man who knows everything about the workings of the world, he doesn’t know what a good crochet scarf looks like.

originally it was a prototype of yours, your first attempt after watching a youtube tutorial twice but spencer insists on having it, saying that it's too much yarn to go to waste and when you said that you can just pull it out, he didn't sit around to hear. he carries it around like a trophy of some sort, making a point of wearing it everywhere he goes.

your attempts of trying to tell him to knock it off, promising that you'll make another one that looks more decent but spencer says he likes the uneven lines, likes how the fluff rubs against his skin and how it keeps him warmer than a normal scarf. you think--scratch that, you know that it's all bullshit, but spencer's one immovable object to go against. getting ready to go to work together used to be your favorite part of the day but now it's just embarrassing.

embarrassing would be a wrong word. more like frustrating.

"you crocheted it in my favorite color yn," spencer defends the ugly scarf like it's his child, throwing it around his shoulder and wrapping it snugly around his neck. the purple looks absolutely offensive against the beige of his thrifted sweater, but his eyes melting and lips pouting at you made the look work. kind of. it's still fucking ugly.

"that's 'cause you bought the yarn for me spence," you roll your eyes exasperatedly. the scarf's been a conversation topic every morning since spencer saw it sitting sadly in your closet and fell in love with it. considering how spencer's entire wardrobe is made of old man clothes and unconventional colors, you would understand the appeal of something looking wonky and strange, but the scarf is a stretch.

to be honest, you think it's endearing, spencer's tainted fashion sense. it makes him look softer, heartier, like a welcoming little plush bear with his wispy curls and pink cheeks and gentle voice and worn cardigans. the scarf does fit all his criteria for a good piece of clothing so you should've saw it coming that he would hold on to it like his lifeline and you would tolerate it if he didn't go to every single person he sees throughout the day and boast about the maker of the scarf and you shrinking in the corner as he talks about you. morgan was the first to laugh about it, followed by emily.

"got the hands to diffuse a bomb but not one to crochet a decent scarf, huh?" morgan would say as he walks past your cubicle, a cheshire grin on his face. emily would chuckle. you would snap at him, "shut the hell up morgan," and then sigh. because what the hell. the scarf is so fucking ugly but spencer parades it like the queen's necklace.

you get better at crocheting--it helps you think and you would do it on the plane to new cases sometimes and threaten to stab emily if she makes fun of you--and eventually, you finish crocheting a duplicate for spencer's monstrosity of a purple scarf. this one is more in the shape of a scarf instead of one wacky-looking pasta noodle, with straight chains and the shade of purple on this one is cuter; dark and elegant. you couldn't wait to show it to spencer, couldn't wait for him to finally throw away the crusty scarf he loves so much.

the new one sits, folded neatly, on the table on his side of the bed. for days. winter rolls around and spencer wears it to fucking sleep.

"give that poor scarf a break reid," emily comments. spencer chews on his lip as he flicks through files, silent and unbothered, fingers unconsciously running through the bumpy chains, back and forth. you mumble your agreement and when he pays no attention to you like he did emily, too immerse in his work.

after work that day, you and spencer take a walk around the city, bodies huddled closely together. the first snowflake falls and spencer catches it on his finger, shoving his finger closely to your face, proud of himself. his grin is hidden underneath the purple scarf and for the first time, you don't mind.

"it melted," you tell him and spencer drops his hand, flicking at his index finger disappointedly.

"i can't wait for it to snow," he says, looking up at the grey sky.

"i can't wait for that scarf to decompose," you say, just speaking off the top of your head.

"i like the scarf," spencer quips, mood clashing yours.

"i know you do baby," you sigh, defeated. spencer's frozen fingers grasp yours and runs his fingers over the bumps of your knuckles. being so close you can smell him, soft and sweet like vanilla and old cotton and comfort. "why don't you ever wear the other one?"

spencer shrugs. "just doesn't feel the same." he adds. "and i like this purple better."

#spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fic #my works

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everydayyoulovemeless · 6 months

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FO4 companions attempting to give Sole a haircut but they fuck it up really bad? I just got back from a horrible hairdresser visit and I need the cope

Fo4 Companions Accidentally Giving Sole A Bad Haircut

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort? ➼ A/N » It's been a few months since you've requested this so I'm praying you're feeling better now!

You know MacCready messed something up when he begins chuckling nervously, rests a shaky hand on your shoulder, and starts talking way more than usual. He tries to stall you looking in the mirror for as long as possible but, when you eventually do, he’s biting his fist in awkwardness. He won’t lie, this is not his best work, but he never promised perfection. Nevertheless, he feels awful for what he’s done and will let you wear his hat to cover it until it grows back.

Nick will tell you flat out when he messes it up. He'll sigh apologetically, saying he should've just waited to have Ellie cut it or, I don't know, taking you to Kathy and John's Super Salon, right across the street from his agency. He doesn't do anything more to it and takes you straight to the salon to see if you can't salvage it. He feels awful about it, and will never touch your hair again.

Cait knows she isn't going to do a good job with it, but she doesn't tell you that and agrees to cut it anyway. Normally, when she wants to cut her hair, she'll just take any shape object she can get a hold of and start chopping away, and that's exactly what she does with you. She'll sit you down, pull out a pocket knife, and slice whole chunks off at a time. The worst part is that she's got no shame in it.

Preston will gasp quietly and cover his mouth with his hand. He refuses to move and will just stand there, completely still until you ask him what's wrong. He doesn't even know where to begin telling you how badly he's messed up and will instead, just apologize, rest his hands on the back of your shoulders, and rub reassuring circles into them with his thumbs. There are plenty of generals who don't have good hair! Nothing to fret over!

Codsworth will let out a silent 'Oh dear' and turn his buzzsaw off. Eventually, he'll begin reminding you of a separate time when you'd come back from the barber with you're hair all fucked, before explaining that he did exactly that. He tries to be light-hearted about it, but he's just as devastated as you are, possibly even more. He's a Mr. Handy, for Godsake! And he can't even do the basics!

Piper isn't even subtle about it. She'll just immediately begin comparing it to Atomites she's met through investigative journalism. She'll tell you that she's just giving you the 'wasteland special' and you shouldn't feel too upset about it. There are loads of people with this style! So, cheer up! It'll grow back!

Curie doesn't even realize she's messed anything up. In her opinion, any hairstyle any person has looks good. She doesn't quite understand the emotional attachment many people have toward it and just cuts it really short to help with mobility and whatnot. When you explain it to her, however, she starts to feel really guilty and will apologize nonstop.

Strong will just shave you bald. Now you look like him! What's there to be upset over? No support whatsoever from him.

Hancock will also just cut it with his knife, although, he's a lot more sympathetic than Cait. He'll hug you out of remorse and tell you it could be worse. You could be a ghoul and have no hair at all! Look at him! He can't even grow hair anymore so, don't feel too bad about it, alright?

Deacon will immediately fall to the ground in a squat, head in his hands as he simultaneously tries not to laugh or cry. He's cut his own hair so many times before with no issue - he cuts everyone in the Railroad's hair! - and it shatters him to know that he messed up on a craft he thought he perfected. He's supposed to be good at this! After a moment, he'll stand again and find you a wig in his collection for you to keep until your hair grows back. At least now the two of you can be wig buddies? Yay?

X6-88 will hum in defeat when he's messed it up before saying that he told you you should've gone to someone who actually knows how to cut hair. He can't comfort you for shit and probably just blames you for asking for help from someone who can't cut hair.

Old Longfellow knows how to cut hair. So, if he's messed it up, it means he was drunk. But, hey! Now you have a story to tell the folks at The Last Plank! So, he'll take you straight there so you can, hopefully, drink it off and laugh with the other regulars about it. No harm done!

Gage will tell you straight out that he's fucked it up badly, but he's not that concerned with it. If you seem upset, he'll just shrug and tell you it's not as bad as some of the other raiders in this place. If it bothers you that much, though, he'll get you a helmet for you to wear for the time being. It's safer for you anyway.

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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enamored ༓ myg (m) | one

✑ Summary: Min Yoongi is nothing like what you imagined him to be when you saw him preform at the local cafe in town. Yet little by little he surprises you with his true self, until somehow you find yourself completely enamored with him.

pairing: new independent artist!yoongi x veterinarian!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, eventual smut, strangers2acquaintance2lovers, mini-series

word count: 4,643

Warnings: Nothing too heavy but oc is around 25, mention of unhealthy past relationships, yoon is a struggling artist, talk about social insecurity, cats, the rest of the fluff stuff is for you to find out haha

now playing: cold/mess

a/n: Due to me and my fellow Yoon enthusiasts missing myg, I bring us this three-part mini-series. I'm not sure how this will go but hope you enjoy! 🥰 Lowkey has me thinking of Yoongi pre-debut days.

Tonight’s the first night the local coffeehouse you and your friend, Nara, visit for weekly rant sessions is showcasing musicians of all backgrounds, statuses, and genres. And you are very much looking forward to the absolute cutie pictured in a fluffy sky-blue cardigan, a big gummy smile on, and undeniably soft, chocolate eyes.

His arms casually rest atop his guitar followed by the words ‘Agustd’ in scripted font underneath. You’ve never heard of him before but you’re convinced that he’ll play something light and uplifting given the aesthetic of his image displayed on the TV screen.

“God it’s packed like a football stadium here,” Nara interrupts your gaze on the tv from across the table. She sits with her hands folded on the wooden surface, a giant diamond sparkling on her left hand.

“You’re telling me,” you tsk. “I already came close to bumping into a middle-aged man with two lattes in his hands and a couple of college girls attempting to film a TikTok on our way in.”

It’s no exaggeration to say the cafe itself is swarming with new faces who are eager for a night of leisure while overworked baristas rush to fulfill orders. You have the innate instinct to offer them your help, though they’d likely advise it’s better for you to remain seated.

“Have you ever been to a football stadium though?” You ask more condescendingly than intended, but you find her analogy amusing since she’s never been one to pay attention to sports.

Nara rolls her eyes at your light probing. “No, but I’ve seen pictures. You know how big of a fan my Yunjun is of football. He’s gone to the United States to watch the super bowl eight times now.”

She says it proudly, but the reality is that her lovey Yunjun has not once invited her to go with him. Instead, he takes three of his closest friends and disappears to the other side of the world for two weeks. Everyone knows the super bowl only lasts one day so why the hell is he there for that long? Likely to get drunk with his buddies, that’s why.

“You know I don’t like him,” you say bluntly. “Why are you marrying him again?” Nara’s confident smile turns into a defensive scowl as she proceeds to tell you, once again, all the ways that Yunjun “completes her”.

On and on she continues for ten minutes straight until her voice slowly drowns out to the clapping and cheering of the crowd behind her. A young woman named Yuri just finished performing a few of her original songs and is thanking the audience for listening. You lightly clap along in politeness.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Nara pipes up once the crowd falls silent again. “Yunjun is extremely thoughtful. Yesterday he messaged me to meet for lunch without me having to ask first.”

“Uh huh…” you drawl out, eyes shifting between her and the distracting movements of bodies behind her. The young woman who just performed steps off the stage while a young man steps forward to take her place.

You struggle to keep eye contact with Nara as said man lazily slumps himself on the wooden stool at the front of the room and balances his acoustic guitar on his knee. He looks like he just rolled out of bed ten minutes ago; hair tousled about, a big black sweatshirt covering half his body, and possibly the most somber facial expression on.

Is that the same guy from the promo image? Agust something?

You lean your head to the side and past Nara’s head to get a better view.

It is him but he looks so starkly different from his photo on the TV screen. His mood is much more melancholy than you imagined, like Grumpy Bear from Care Bears.

It makes you wild with curiosity.

You find yourself placing a hand under your chin, intent on listening to his every word. By now, Nara's noticed your interest in the musician so she's stopped talking and pays attention to him as well.

“Hi, I’m Agustd and I'm an independent artist,” he introduces himself in a low voice, lips pressed to the microphone. His focus is set on the audience in front of him at first but then, as if feeling your heavy stare, he flicks his eyes directly into yours. "I'm also known as Min Yoongi."

You feel your stomach flutter at the gesture which only seems to grow in intensity when he doesn't bother to remove his gaze from you.

He can't actually be looking at you, right?

"I'm starting off with a song I wrote a few years ago titled Seesaw," he continues. "I wrote it while going through, what I thought was at the time, a hopeless period of my life. Please enjoy." And with that he begins strumming on the chords of his guitar, eyes slowly closing to immerse himself in the beautiful music.

Everyone is on the edge of their seats as much as you when he leans further into the mic, lips gently parting.

"In the beginning, well, it was fun

Just going up and down itself

Before we knew, we both became sick of

meaningless waste of emotions

A repeated seesaw, seesaw game

Having come this far, I got sick of, got sick of it

A repeated seesaw, seesaw game

We’re both got tired and became sick of it..."

As Yoongi continues to preform with closed eyes and breathy voice, you take in the rawness of his lyrics. Seesaw tells about relationship that's grown draining; that the weight of staying in something so tiring should come to an end sooner rather than later.

It resonates with you deeply as you've experienced first-hand the challenges of staying in a bottomless relationship. You didn't want to acknowledge it at the time, but you put in all the effort when you and your ex were together. And though it was three years ago since your break up, the constant feeling of exhaustion and being less than haunts you every night.

The vibrations in Yoongi's voice echoing off the mic tells you he's been through similar pain. So much so that it thrums in your own chest and you realize how wrong you'd been to think he'd compose a lighthearted song.

"How crafty the heart of a person is

Though we know one will get hurt if the other is not there,

because we both don’t want to be the bad guy,

we continue to awkwardly pass the buck, umm umm

and end up becoming exhausted, ironically reaching the paralleled balance

Ay, this is not the kind of balance that I wanted..."

With every line, you notice Yoongi's delicate fingers struggling to hold down each chord. It's clear that he's thinking about whoever this song is about in this very moment. Nevertheless, he presses on with a fervent spirit until the end.

You and a handful of people are the only ones who clap when the last line of Seesaw is sung. The rest of the audience is oddly reluctant to applaud and your best guess is that they weren't expecting to hear something so profoundly reflective. The musicians before him had been far more upbeat so to speak.

"Thank you," Yoongi mutters with hesitance. He scans the mute crowd who seemingly cause the air to grow thicker by exchanging awkward glances with one another.

Without another word, Yoongi surprises everyone by standing up from his stool and walking over to the seat he was sitting in before coming on stage. He picks up a few loose papers, and his keys, and zips his guitar into its case before heading for the exit.

"Didn't he have more songs to play?" Nara turns to you with a frown on her face, puzzled at the turn of events.

"I thought so too," you reply, fingers restless as you watch him leave the cafe. "You know what...I'll be right back." You're unsure what prompts you to follow him out other than your unsettled conscience telling you that this isn't the first time he's gotten this type of response and that he deserves better.

"Excuse me, Agustd? Or Yoongi?" You're sure he can hear your voice call to him as he opens the rear door of his beater car. His head whips in your direction immediately.

"Yeah?" He answers simply yet when he sees the white of your eyes, he does a double take; stunned that the only person he cared to recognize the whole night followed him out.

Typically with small gigs like this Yoongj doesn't take much note of the crowd unless they're booing him off the stage. And even then he plays it off. But somehow, your relaxed gaze soothed him, so he remembers you—he remembers the way you made him feel.

"I just wanted to say you sounded good. Better than good actually," you correct yourself, words sputtering out a little too fast. "Seesaw is amazing and you're a genius to have written it."

Your hands get clammier as you approach him. You hope this doesn't sound dumb but something in you won't let him leave without giving him at least a shred of honest encouragement.

The corner of Yoongi's mouth barely quirks up before it quickly falls back down. He sets his guitar in the back seat of his car, then shuts the door and gives you a nod. "Thanks but you don't have to say that."

He moves to the driver's door and reaches to grip the handle but out of nowhere, you stop him by placing a hand over his wrist.

"I mean it," you assure him.

Yoongi doesn't move a muscle as he glances between your hand around his wrist and your seemingly oblivious face. For three seconds you stare at each other with intense eyes, wordless as you take in each other's micro-expressions.

Through the physical contact, you can both feel the rapid beating of each other's hearts but you're unsure if it's simply nerves from an embarrassing situation or something else entirely.

"Sorry." You finally come to your senses and retract your fingers. "I just wanted to tell you that I connected with the lyrics of your song. Not everyone does and that's okay but it really is amazing Yoongi. So don't pay attention to those rude people in there okay?"

At this, Yoongi's expressions soften and a timid smile forms on his plushy lips. He runs a hand through his messy hair, smoothing down some of the loose strands sticking up.

"I appreciate you coming out to tell me this...wait what's your name?"

"__."

"__. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed my music but don't worry, I don't take it personally when people dislike my songs. It just means it wasn't for them." He shrugs carelessly but there's a hidden sorrow laced in his tone. He holds his chin high yes, but his heart is so deep in his chest.

"Hey," you start. "If I was a music manager I'd sign you on immediately. You don't happen to have that song recorded do you? Uploaded to music platforms or anything?"

"Yeah, I just put it on Spotify actually. I also have some CDs." Yoongi pauses and wets his lips. "If you're interested," he finishes with slightly averted eyes.

"Call me old fashioned but could I get one of those?"

"What?" He taken aback by your response.

"A cd. You said you have one?"

"Uh sure, yeah just a second." He walks to the trunk of his car, opens the lid, and rummages around until he pulls forward a small cardboard box. "I don't have great packaging yet but here's one." Yoongi holds out a plain white sleeve with a disk inside. "Hope you don't mind but I signed my name on it. Thought it would make it personal or something."

You take the disk from his hand and cheese at him. "Wow, I can't believe I'm getting an autographed version right off the bat. How much?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "You can have it."

"No, really how much?" Taking this man's cd without paying him a dime does not sit well with you. Regardless, Yoongi continues to insist.

"It's on me. Maybe when I get to the point where I can have concerts you'll come." He jokes but you remain serious, digging into your pocket for your wallet. You take 26000 won out ($20) and shove it in his hand. "Hey wait!" Yoongi calls after you when you quickly start backing away from him.

"No takebacks!" You holler. "I'm sorry to leave so suddenly but my friend's waiting for me inside. It was nice meeting you Yoongi and I look forward to when you become a raging success. Until then, I'll be streaming your songs on Spotify! Treat yourself to something nice alright?"

He steps forward, mouth falling open as if to say something but nothing comes out. Your face is already turned away from him as he watches you trot back to the cafe'. He rolls the cash in his hand and stuffs it in his back pocket, hoping that maybe he'll cross paths with you again.

A week passes and you've not forgotten your interaction with Min Yoongi. You wish you hadn't run away like you did but it's true that Nara was waiting for you inside. Any longer and she would have sent a search party for you–she's on the extreme end.

Plus, you didn't want him giving the money back to you. It was a noble gesture to hand it over to you for free but it wasn't necessary. Yoongi is an independent artist who's working to establish himself in the music industry and you were more than willing to pay for good music.

You're currently sitting in your car, replaying the affair in your head for the umpteenth time while you wait for your pizza to be ready. You were told you'd get a text notification though it's taking longer than usual, given how much louder the growling of your stomach has gotten.

Finding new ways to distract yourself gets more challenging with each passing minute. You open the glove department of your car and pull out Yoongi's cd, admiring the beautiful signature marked in black ink on the disk.

Seesaw - Agustd 2018

It's crazy of you but you kind of miss him. Yoongi wasn't like anything you expected him to be, so deep and grounded while at the same time warm-hearted. He was incredibly handsome too. And when you touched his arm, eyes piercing into his, it was like you were being magnetically pulled to him.

Is that possible though? Sharing a magnetic force with practically a stranger?

Your contemplation is interrupted when the sound of your phone notification rings off. Finally, your order's ready. You toss the cd back into the glove box and head inside the pizza shop.

"Hi, welcome to Little Slice of Heaven," the young lady at the counter greets you with a cheery smile. "How can I help you?"

"I have an order for __." You open your wallet and hand over your credit card. She takes it from you speedier than you like, ringing it up then returning it to you with a paper receipt.

"I'll go grab it for you." She swiftly turns around, nearly bumping into one of her coworkers. "Shit sorry!" The person gives a small grunt in response before mumbling an 'its fine, I got it'.

"Order for __."

You stash the receipt in your pocket, then look up to take the boxes of steaming hot pizza. "Yes, thank you so m–," You freeze at once at the familiar face in the iconic navy blue Little Slice of Heaven uniform.

"Yoongi?" He seems to be just as motionless as you when you say his name. "I didn't know..."

"I just started," he answers shortly. "It's uh, good to see you again. How have you been?"

"Oh you know, still alive. Pizza helps me." You chuckle to help break the ice. Yoongi doesn't laugh but you do catch his eyes softening the smallest bit. "What about you? How have you been?"

"Good. Music's good too." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you're beginning to pick up from him. "I–sorry I must sound like an idiot. I didn't expect to see anyone I knew here tonight."

"You don't sound like an idiot. You said you just started working here right?"

He nods.

"Yoongi!" An older man with a navy blue visor on his head calls from one of the pizza ovens in the back. "I need you to deliver this to the lovely couple sitting at table 8. Times ticking!"

Yoongi looks at the man, then at you. He knows what he needs to do except the thought of letting you leave after getting the rare chance to see you again causes him to linger in place.

"It's okay," you try to ease him, despite also feeling conflicted to leave. "You're working. I come here often so I'll see you around." You're only able to take two steps before the same voice hollers to you.

"Wait, __. What are you doing tomorrow at 6?"

"It's Saturday so, probably watching re-runs of Friends. Why?"

For the first time, Yoongi lets out a hearty laugh and you're instantly reminded of his photo from the cafe last week; the one of him in the sky-blue cardigan with his guitar. His expression exudes the same joyful aura as if his two personas suddenly merge as one.

"I love Friends," he says. "The whole Ross and Rachel thing is driving me mad though, like why won't they–"

"Yoongi the food needs to go now!" His coworker yells at him again, wiping his sweat fro his brow. "Tell your girlfriend or whoever that is that you have work to do!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Yoongi responds with rosy cheeks. "Sorry, I gotta get back to it. I know Friends is tough to compete with but do you think you'd have an hour to spare? We could–I could get a pizza for us to split. Already got your order down." He gives a lopsided grin as he jokes lightly.

"Okay." You break into a smile. "I wouldn't dream of passing up my comfort food." You sound calm but the back of your mind reels with uncertainty. Is he asking you out or is it the so-called "hang out", sometimes masked as a pre-date?

He reaches for the pad of paper on the counter next to him, scribbles something down, and tears it off to give it to you. "Here's my number. Feel free to text me if anything changes. No pressure though."

Once you take the paper from him, he disappears into the back of the kitchen before you can get another word out. Min Yoongi, you hum silently, timid yet takes initiative. Cute.

You decide it's better to see Yoongi's proposal as a hang out rather than a date. It's not like he came out and said, "do you want to go out" or anything. So at 6 pm on the dot, you agree to meet him at Little Slice of Heaven. As promised, he brings a pizza for you to share.

He's already changed out of his work clothes by the time you arrive; sporting a white t-shirt, jeans, and a thin chain necklace. The basic look works on him.

"So I didn't get to ask you yesterday," you start, turning to Yoongi who sits on the swivel stool next to you. "How do you like it here and what made you come?"

He shrugs and places a slice of pizza on his paper plate. "Pays the bills. I was working as a waiter down on main street a few months ago. I chose to leave that place due to poor management and...I lack social skills, evidently."

"Come on, you do not." You refuse to believe it. "Anytime we've talked it's been pleasant so any naysayers probably don't even know what side's up."

Yoongi snorts in amusement. "We've only had two conversations __." He says it flatly yet it doesn't keep your cheeks from feeling flushed, warmth blooming in the pit of your belly. Your name sounds different from his lips this time.

"You're right, and both times you've shown great social skills."

"I think you're stretching it a little. As I recall I was a bit more reserved with you than usual. Must have been awkward for you."

"Not in the slightest," you deny. "There's nothing awkward about being reserved. In fact, sometimes it's better and it typically means you're a better listener than most. And if you were so awful, you wouldn't be working here right? This is food service too."

"Thanks for saying that." He glances down at his hands in his lap, unsure of how much you're saying rings true, then looks back up at you. "I don't need to talk with people as much as I do a server though. It's more like I hand them their pizza and wish them a good life."

"Well, I guess you make a point there. But trust me Yoongi, you don't lack social skills. Can I ask you something though? Weirdly off-topic."

"Shoot."

"It's about your photo from the cafe last week. It showed you in a blue cardigan with a smile on your face except when you came in to play that day..."

An unexpected grin forms on his face as he finishes your sentence. "I looked like I hated my life or something right? Or like Grumpy Bear from that kiddy cartoon, Caring Bears.

"Care Bears."

"Right, Care Bears." He chuckles lightly. "The music I tend to write shows my raw feelings and experiences. A song like Seesaw, as you've heard, is no exception, but I don't think my overall theme has to be dark as well. The image you saw shows the current version of me, the one who's liberated from those past experiences."

"That's extremely meaningful, Yoongi."

"As far as why I showed up in a giant black sweatshirt, it's because I wanted to dress comfortably. I always get a little nervous performing in front of a live audience so it helps. Especially since I'm only a new artist without a label supporting me. I was also a little sleepy from mixing beats the night before too, I won't lie."

"That makes so much sense. How long have you been making music for?"

"Since a teenager. Like thirteen."

"Seriously?" You nearly fall off your chair. Yoongi is a born genius it seems.

"Yeah. I never pursued being an independent artist until now. Resources and connections were pretty grim for me. Since becoming an adult I've made some progress. Still working to get my name out there though."

"I understand." You nod along. "Being an independent artist, you must have to do a lot to gain exposure. Have you considered uploading videos of yourself playing your songs on social media?"

"I've done some and they've been good. I'm actually trying to send my songs to a few record labels but I haven't heard back from any yet. It's been a good six months so I don't know. There's still one that I'm holding out hope for. I only sent my music to them a week ago."

"That's a shame they didn't contact you. Just means they missed out on Agustd which they will, without a doubt, be regretting later. Do you have an estimate on when the newest label will reach out to you?"

"No clue. They say it takes anywhere from a week to three months. By the way," he pauses. "I have to ask. Do you really like my music? I don't mean that rudely or anything."

"Hell yeah, I like it! You're honestly insanely talented and love it actually."

"God," Yoongi fakes an eye roll. "Don't tell me you're my first groupie."

You both share a laugh that can only be described as natural.

"Enough about me." He speaks first after your laughter settles down. "What do you do? Have any crazy hobbies?"

"I'm afraid I don't have any crazy hobbies at the moment. I work as a vet downtown and I don't have much free time unless it's to binge-watch movies on the weekend. I love my job though."

"Ah," Yoongi narrows his eyes as if coming to a drastic realization. "It's all coming together."

"What is?"

"The reason why you're so kind and stable." He gathers several napkins and hands them over to you when some of the water from your glass accidentally spills on the table. "No you have a bright energy to you, but it's not hyper. It's like you really care in a hospitable way. You work with animals which requires a lot of heart. Do you have any pets at home?"

"Yeah, I actually have two cats. Both siamese. I want to get a dog but right now I wouldn't be around to take care of it well. Cats are a little more independent." You wipe up the water with the napkins and continue. "Thanks for saying all that Yoongi. I'm not sure stable is the best way to describe me."

"Well, for what it's worth you're the most stable person I've met. I think everyone needs someone like you in their life."

"I–what kind of people are you hanging around?" You feel flustered so you do the first thing that comes to mind, nudge his shoulder playfully which he laughs at. "I'm not all that. I have faults like anyone else."

"Name one." He taps the table with a finger to make a point. "Dare you."

"I don't know, I dislike vacuuming my rug."

"Oh my god." He covers his mouth to feign shock. "Scandalous. I don't think we should eat together again after that. Wow."

"Stop it, that was a dumb one. I have stuff I swear. If this were a first date I'd be a bit appalled that you're asking me to list my faults. It isn't usually the time you try to pick each other apart."

"Actually, it sort of is to an extent. You have to observe each other right? So those so-called red flags will come up sooner than later to keep you from unnecessary pain and heartache later."

You maul on his words. "Point made. Wish I knew that three years ago," you hum. Yoongi seems to agree with you from the way he quietly nods.

"Ex-boyfriend?" he asks.

"Yup, what about you? Ex-girlfriend?"

He nods again and it puts an end to any further talk about exes or past relationships.

"By the way," Yoongi folds his arms against his chest. "I have a cat too. I got him two years ago at a shelter. He's pretty much my best friend."

The excitement on your face is impossible to conceal. Min Yoongi has a cat? You need to know everything about said cat right now.

"What's his name? Is he a long hair? You give me long-haired cat dad vibes." You're hasty— so sue you, you're a vet. Animals are sort of your wheelhouse.

"His name's Kiwi and he's an overly fed Russian Blue. He's six years old." Yoongi laughs and leans towards you with mirthful eyes. "If you want, I can introduce you to him." He cocks a brow and your shoulders perk up.

"Honest? I would actually die to see your cat."

Yoongi slides off his chair and tosses the empty pizza box in the trash. "Let's go to my place then."

"What?" You crickle the napkin in your hand and toss it on your paper plate. "Now?"

"Yeah now's as good a time as ever." He takes his keys from his jeans pocket and gestures for the door. "Don't worry, I won't make you stay for long."

a/n: thanks for reading! lmk what you think 💞

Masterlist

#yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfic #fic:enamored #kookslastbutton

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rollinouttahere-writes · 2 months

Note

Do you think that the whole cake island would be the first place sanji and nijis fiancé darling meet?. Or did he know about her/see her during his childhood but was never permitted to speak to her because of his status as the weakest Prince. And potentially causing possible issues with the political alliance if it looked like judge was going to offer a betrothal with the noble girl/princess and his weakest child as that would be considered a insult

Initially, I had planned for that to be their first meeting, but this ask quickly made me considered the other option and it spiraled out of control from there. Here is the result.

I decided to use (y/n) instead the the name established throughout the au since this was supposed to be a reader insert originally. I apologize for any inaccuracies that there may be in this. I haven't gotten to this arc yet, so I'm just working off of random spoilers and wikis.

Confrontations and Complications

Sanji x Princess Reader

2.9k words

warnings: implied afab reader, this is straight up angst no comfort

Heels click loudly against the floor as you run through the quiet hallways. The skirt of your dress and your petticoats were bunched up in your fists to prevent you from tripping. There was no telling how long of a window you would have to do this, and you refused to miss your chance at this.

Niji became distracted at the perfect moment for you to slip away undetected, and Reiju had given her word that she would do her best to redirect him should he notice your absence. While you and Reiju weren’t on the friendliest terms as of late, she appeared to be acting in your best interest for the time being. It was debatable how trustworthy she truly was, but you were willing to take the risk in this one instance.

This was of the utmost importance.

The flurry of clicks from your shoes slow as the door you’ve been searching for comes into view, then eventually comes to a complete halt. You pant as you catch your breath and stare at the door. You make a hasty attempt to fix your clothes and hair, then straighten your tiara that had been bouncing freely on your head as you ran. After all of this time, you didn’t want to look unkempt when he saw you.

Steeling yourself with one last deep breath, you grasp the knob and open the door.

Sitting at a small table and absentmindedly flicking a lighter on and off was just the man you were hoping to see. Reiju had not led you astray with her directions. The man, Vinsmoke Sanji, looked startled at your sudden intrusion and was staring at you questioningly.

Oh. In your haste to confirm that this was, in fact, his room, it had slipped your mind to knock and you had just let yourself in. How unlike you.

“Can… Can I help you, miss?” Sanji removed the smoked down nub of a cigarette from his mouth and snubbed it out in a shockingly full ashtray before reaching for the cigarette pack on the table. His exposed eye kept darting back to you while waiting for an answer.

Ah. So he did not recognize you… This fact pained you, but it wasn’t wholly surprising. It has been a very long time since your last meeting. You swallow thickly and step the rest of the way into his room before closing the door behind you, “Please forgive me for barging into your accommodation. I was so overcome with emotion that I forgot my manners.”

Sanji offered a small, but noticeably forced smile, “No need to apologize. I would never complain over being sought out by such a lovely woman. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We have.” You inch closer to him while wringing your hands nervously. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain that it had nothing to do with your previous exertion. “Though I do not blame you for not recognizing me. The last time that I was in your company, we were mere children sneaking into a kitchen to prepare a lunch for your dear mother.”

The fresh cigarette that was dangling from Sanji’s lips falls onto the table as he stares at you with a wide eye. He is momentarily slack jawed before he finds it in himself to whisper out your name.

A genuine smile spreads across your face as you see the recognition in his eyes. “Yes, Sanji. It’s me, (Y/N).”

In an instant, Sanji is up and out of his seat. He stumbles a bit from tripping over the leg of the table, then comes to a halt in front of you. His hands reach forward, then pause, unsure of whether or not he should touch you. You take the decision out of his hands and quickly close the gap. Your arms wrap around his middle in a tight hug, which he returns after only a brief moment of hesitation.

The harsh and overpowering scent of tobacco stings at your nose as you rest your face on his shoulder, but you wouldn’t dare complain over something so trivial. Not when you were experiencing such a foreign rush of joy and relief.

With much reluctance, you force yourself to pull away first. Sanji held you a beat longer, but acquiesced to your action. His hands traced up and settled on your shoulders. The baby blue eye that wasn’t obscured flitted across your face, seemingly taking in every detail.

“I can’t believe it’s really you… I never thought I would see you again,” Sanji speaks to you in a hushed reverence that encourages your heart to feel ways that you know very well that it should not be given the current circumstances.

Your own hands are settled on his waist, not quite wanting to sever the physical connection. You offer him a half-hearted smile, “I could say the same for you. Prior to the last week, I believed you to be dead.” Your gloved hands clutch at his shirt, no doubt wrinkling it. A rude action, truly, but the only thing restraining you from cradling his face like you so desire. “I cannot quite put into words how relieving it is to see you alive and well.”

Sanji purses his lips and breaks the eye contact between you. He releases your shoulders and steps back, prompting you to relinquish your hold on him as well. It takes everything you have to not match every step he takes with one of your own. He heaves a sigh while reaching for his dropped cigarette, “I’m sorry. If there had been a way for me to let you know that I was okay, I would have done that in a heartbeat.”

“Oh, no!” The words come out so strongly and with so much force that it startles even you. You take a breath, then continue at a much calmer tone, “Please don’t misunderstand. I am not begrudging you for this. There are certainly people to blame, but you are not amongst them.”

A small smile is the reward for your clarification. Sanji flicks his lighter to life to ignite his cigarette. He takes a long drag of it, then exhales it. “Thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Hush, I am not. Dare I say, you could benefit from more kindness.” Everyone could, but you did not care about everyone right now.

Sanji chuckles, though it’s distinctly lacking any real humor. “You haven’t changed a bit since we were kids. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

The silence that fell over you as he puffed away at his cigarette was neither comfortable, nor tense. So many things were left unsaid, and Sanji appeared to be content to leave it that way. You itched to ask him countless questions. How did he escape Germa? Where has he been this whole time? What was it like being part of such a notorious pirate crew? With so many queries running through your mind, it felt impossible to choose just one.

“What are you doing on Whole Cake Island, anyway? I didn’t think your family was close enough with Big Mom to be invited to a wedding.”

In an instant, your heart leaps up into your throat and you balk. This was precisely the topic you had hoped to avoid. Both for your own comfort, as well as his own. Ignorance is bliss, and you wanted him to know peace.

Unfortunately, your silence successfully attracts his attention. He turns to face you fully, and you can feel his eye boring into you despite the fact that you’re staring at the floor. “(Y/N)... Why are you here?” The thinly veiled urgency in his voice indicated that he was already coming to his own conclusions.

“I’m… here with my fiance,” the volume of your voice decrescendos with each word until ‘fiance’ comes out at a barely audible whisper.

It is unclear at first if the silence that followed was brought on by shock, or if Sanji simply hadn’t heard you. You get your answer shortly when he asks a quick and straightforward question.

“Who?”

Answering this was significantly more trying than explaining why you were here. You still couldn’t meet his eye, and you were grateful that he wasn’t forcing you to. There was no way to dance around or sugarcoat who it was. As much as you knew that he wouldn’t like the truth, he deserved to hear it.

“Niji.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see his cigarette hit the floor. Before you could be alarmed about the rug catching to fire, it was snuffed out under Sanji’s foot as he rapidly closed the gap that he had once made. His hands find purchase on your shoulders again, though he’s far less gentle this time. If it weren’t for the ironclad grip he had on you, you’re certain that you would have toppled over from the strength he took hold of you with. You’re forced to look up at him and take in his expression. The eye that you can see is wide with a shrunken pupil. The color in his skin has paled noticeably, and his mouth hangs open as his breath comes out in frantic pants.

His hands tighten around your shoulders more as he spits out an accusation laden in desperation, “You’re lying.”

Oh, how you wish you were. How you wish that there wasn’t an engagement ring weighing down your ring finger. But that simply isn’t reality. You hold up your left hand, actively ignoring the way it trembled under the intensity of Sanji’s gaze. His eye zeros in on the gleaming, blue jewel that was the centerpiece of your ring.

The sight of it repelled him. You were released from his touch once more as he backed away until he crashed into the table, effectively tipping it over and sending it crashing to the ground. The ashtray that had been sitting on it flew and rolled across the floor, spreading cigarette butts and ash everywhere, but Sanji paid it no mind.

“No… no, no, no! You can’t be serious! Niji?!” His raised voice startled you. While you had been anticipating a poor reaction, this was far worse than you ever would have guessed. His hands shot up and threaded through his hair. The way that he pulled on it had to be painful, and you held out your hand to try and coax him into letting go, but then he evaded you by beginning to pace. His steps were quick and forceful, the soles of his shoes making more noise than your heels had made when you were running to get here.

As much as you wanted to speak, it was beyond you what there even was to say that would soothe him.

Sanji abruptly spun around to face you again, making you flinch. He all but ran to you and took your hands in his, pulling you towards him so hard that you almost crashed into him. He speaks in a frantic but hushed tone, “You need to leave.”

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“You need to leave now. It isn’t safe for you to stay here.” His head snaps to the side and he lets go of your hand briefly to slam the window shut before grasping it again. “I need you to listen to me. My cr- My former crew is here. They will be more than happy to take you away and keep you safe. I’m not sure how I’ll get you to them yet, but I promise you that I won’t rest until you’re under their protection.”

All that you can do is stare at him. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but an undeniable warmth is spreading through it as well. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that this could happen. You squeeze his hands and speak breathlessly, “You wish to run away together?”

Sanji freezes at your words. His mouth opens and closes several times, and then he averts his eyes, “I can’t do that. This is just for you.”

You rip your hands away from his and step away. “What? What are you talking about?”

The way he looks at you as if you’re clueless infuriates you. He speaks slowly as he explains himself, “I’m getting married to Pudding. I’m sure that you know that.”

This explanation leaves you appalled, you all but shriek at him, “You’re actually going through with that?!” The entire reason that you were so desperate to have this meeting in the first place was because you had assumed that he would leave with his crew before the wedding could occur.

Your shouting startles Sanji, giving him a quick moment of pause. He clears his throat before doing his best to speak in a calm and assertive tone. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I? Our marriage will be a good thing.”

Hearing him say this breaks you. All grace and decorum is forgotten in your outburst. “A good thing?! Nothing good can come from marrying someone like Pudding!”

While you generally tried to be kind and gracious to everyone, you were unable to grant Pudding the same courtesy. Not after you became privy to her true feelings towards Sanji when you overheard a conversation between her and a few of her siblings. The way she spoke of Sanji was as maddening as it was sickening. It took all of your self control to not burst into the room and demand that she trade her fiance for your own if she disliked him so much.

Maybe you should have.

“Pudding is a lovely woman… And the marriage is good for political reasons as well.” Sanji was refusing to meet your enraged gaze, which only fueled the fire within you.

A sarcastic bark of laughter escaped you. “A lovely woman?! She’s a spoiled brat who doesn’t understand how fortunate she is!” That girl had everything that a woman could hope for in a political marriage, and she had the audacity to look down on her betrothed as if he wasn’t worthy of so much as breathing the same air as her.

When Sanji only stared at you with a shocked expression, it made all of the hideous emotions that you had been suppressing up to this point bubble to the surface and boil over.

“That girl has it all, and she can’t even be grateful for it! She won’t have to put up with her husband lusting over everyone but her! She won’t have to be little more than a mere obligation to her husband! She won’t just be used to bring about a new generation of living weapons!”

You fall silent as the words settle into the air, thickening the atmosphere until it became difficult to breathe. Hot tears begin to pour down your face in a shameful display. You turn away from Sanji as raw, pained sobs wrack through you.

“(Y/N)...”

Sanji stepped towards you and rested a hand on your shoulder, but you ripped away from him as if his touch burned you. The last thing that you wanted was his pity. You hastily dabbed at your eyes with a handkerchief as you hurried to the door, but Sanji put himself between you and the exit.

“Please, (Y/N)... I know you don’t like it, but you need to leave without me. You have no idea how much danger you’ll be in if you stay.” His face and tone are equally pleading. His hands reach towards you once more, but halt just before making contact.

“I am many things, but please don’t think me naive, Sanji… I know precisely what is expected of me in my marriage.” Every word out of your mouth is bitter and laced with contempt.

“Then why are you being so stubborn? I know that you don’t want this.” Sanji is visibly exasperated.

“The better question is: Why are you being so stubborn? You are not compelled to do this like I am! You have an entire crew that is willing to fight for you, yet you’re refusing their help!” You exhale and shake your head, “You are almost as ungrateful as Pudding, perhaps you two are meant to be after all.”

“This is not as simple and straightforward as you think it is. There is much more going on… It’s better for everyone if I go through with this.”

Your hands ball up into fists at your sides and you snap at him, “Oh, what a martyr you are! How brave! How proud!” Having finally had enough, you fully abandon etiquette and shove Sanji out of your way. You grasp the doorknob, but rather than leaving, you decide that you have one last sentiment to tack on. “Martyrdom is the coward’s choice! If you really care for the people in your life, you will fight to be with them, not sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity!”

With that, you wrench open the door and slam it behind you the second you’re out of the room. You take off down the hall with no clear destination, only desiring to put as much distance between yourself and Sanji as reasonably possible.

Despite what you had said, you realize that you were actually quite naive. It was foolish to have ever believed that this meeting would have gone any better than it did.

#yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #yandere #princess carnation au #one piece

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cotl-flower-crown · 2 months

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So @oneofthosenightbees brought a fanfic idea to me and we both agreed that it would fit well in gang au, so here we go, meet gang au Monch! I'm just gonna copy and paste what I wrote in discord and hope it makes sense. (Let me know if I should put up some content warnings)

Mmmm let's see, Monch would probably be one of the citizens of the Faith City who grew up in there her whole life. She used to love the city and she wanted to help it get better the best way she could, so she joined the police forces and eventually was promoted to the position of a detective. Not long after gaining that position Shamura and their siblings started to thrive in their domains and Monch picked up on that. They appear suddenly and begin to shape the city for the better and at the same time a mysterious organisation let itself known to do a bunch of shady business in the city. Monch managed to discover that Shamura and the rest are behind the organisation and she confronts them. Heket and Leshy are ready to kill her, but Shamura pulls her into a discussion. Yes, they are very deep into the organised crime in the city, but at the same time the Faith City have never been doing this well, so is it really something that should be stopped? Doesn't that justifies the means if it's for the better? Whatever Shamura tells Monch, it really messes with her perception of good and evil, but she doesn't back out. She attempts to bring this to the chief police, but they tell her to drop it. In fact if she won't, then they will make her drop it. The best next solution is to take it even higher, outside of the city, but then she's sent a message. A very brutal message. I'm not sure about specifics, but I'm thinking that she was framed into murder by Shamura's goons together with the police, which completely ruined her reputation and she had to hide. With ruined name and a wanted poster nobody would believe her, so dejected, bitter and hopeless she decided to stay in hiding, developing an alcohol addiction in the process. Until a few years later she's sent a message from Lambert, who "hopes" that she might help him "get rid of the evil corrupting the city" and "bring justice for his late family and people like him".

Her and Lambert meet and at this point it's not really a common knowledge that Lambert as a CEO and "owner" of his cleaning company has anything to do with the Red Crowns outside of the gang. So she doesn't really have a reason to not believe Lambert when he tells her how much this city "means" to him and how much he wishes to be able to get rid of the crime infestation, so he and many others can walk the streets feeling safe. But he's just a businessman, he doesn't know how to fight the crime. But maybe she can help him? She was a detective once after all... She sees a little bit of herself in Lambert's act and it sparks a little bit of hope in her once more, to be able to clear her name and bring the city back to it's original glory (which probably never was to begin with). They figured out that the best way to lessen Shamura's influence, is by cutting off their business partners (looking at gRenn rn) and later expose their crimes. Lambert allows her to help him get out the good word for him to the people of interest by working from the shadows. Meanwhile she also does her own research on what's really going on in the city and she warns Lambert about the Red Crowns and how he should stay away from them. She would find all the evidence needed to get police's attention and bring it straight to Lambert, because he's a good man with influence, right? The police will listen to him for sure! While that's going on, she find some loose ends that don't seem to make sense with what Lambert is telling her. Which means that there's either some miscommunications on her part, or Lambert is lying to her. But why Lambert would lie to her? He's a good man, there's no way that he would lie to her, right? They're partners, friends even! It's probably something she got wrong, she tends to do that lately with her issues...

And then she finally sees it. Lambert interacting with Narinder, whom she discovered is the leader of the Red Crowns. Hell, it's almost like they're lovers... but that can't be right! Maybe he doesn't know that Narinder is their enemy? Maybe Narinder manipulated him? So she finally confronts Lambert. And Lambert's mask finally cracks. He laughs, as he was wondering just how long it would take her to figure this out. But it doesn't click with her just yet, huh? Damn, for a detective in her past, she's really shitty at connecting the dots. And the loose ends finally tie together in a fine knot. She wasn't wrong all this time. He was lying to her after all. She wanted to believe so hard in good in people that she didn't notice the blatant snake that was right in front of her. She wanted to believe in the good cause so badly that she didn't realise that she's been working with a wolf in sheep's clothing all this time. He never cared for the good of the city, he's just... He's just like them. And she helped him. It all feels like a nightmare. Except this is worse, because she cannot wake up from it. She couldn't believe how naive she was, how stupid and useless she was to trust Lambert. It is all useless, isn't it? There is no way to save this city. There will always appear another Shamura, another Lambert, who will turn this place into a deeper and deeper pit full of vipers. There is no hope for this place. There is no hope for her... "So what is going to happen now?" she asks "Will you try to kill me? To ruin my reputation once more, like they did? Do whatever you can to assure that your position is safe?" Lambert smiles. "No, I think the damage was already done. Wouldn't you agree?" he says in a silky soft voice that cuts her deeply, as she silently glares at him "No, you've been a great asset to my team and I think it's only fair that you're compensated accordingly for your hard work"

A praise and a reward cut somehow so, so much deeper than if he just stabbed her in the heart right then and there. Because that meant that he treated her as an ally. She did help him after all. How does that make her any better than him? She silently got up and left Lambert behind. The last words he spoke to her was "I appreciate your help, bestie. I'll see you around." with a stiffed giggle. She almost puked at those words. And that was the last time Lambert have heard from her. Who knows what happened, maybe she left the city, maybe she locked herself away, maybe something worse... Lambert wouldn't know or care either way.

The End.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb fanart #cotl fanart #cotl au #cotl gang au #cult of the lamb au #cotl monch #cotl red district au #cotl red district #red district au #gang au

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello.

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?”

He finally blinked, licking his lips again.

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.

“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.

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