#put him in the hills instead. not a good home how did you get here!!

[risingsunresistance]

found a little man trying to eat my sunflower sprouts

[shockercoco]

A House to a Home

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - some suggestion, lighthearted, fluff

Word count - 1926

a/n - request: “i don’t know if you’re taking request but what about the reader & austin moving into their first house together? reader is so hellbent on unpacking and getting everything out together but someone has other ideas” - this was such a good idea tysm! i hope you all enjoy :)

“Where do you plan on putting these?” Austin asks, looking over at you with a handful of your knick-knacks in his hands.

“I’m not sure yet, I’ll figure it out later,” you respond as you go to open up another box.

You still can’t process the fact that you’re actually moving in with him — that the two of you are owning a home together. The two of you have been dating for about a year and a half, and it was Austin’s idea that you move in with him.

He had just come back home after one of his meetings, and he had found you standing in his walk-in closet trying to figure out how to organize it. He didn’t even say ‘hi’ to you, he just blurted out the question, causing you to turn around and give him a speechless look. 

You were iffy at first because you’ve never lived with someone else after you moved out of your parent’s house – you’ve never even had a roommate so you wondered how it would be to go back to no longer living alone. You also wondered if the two of you were moving too fast. You were both adults and had been dating for long enough without too many problems, so it makes sense that Austin would want to take the next step.

But, that would mean moving into a large home in the hills of LA, where a lot of other celebrities and influencers lived. Did you belong in an area like that? Did you even deserve to live in such a nice part of LA just because you were dating a famous person, even though you yourself weren't rich or famous?

What if the two of you just happened to break up and you no longer had a place to stay?

Austin had seen the panic in your face and was quick to reassure you that you didn’t have to give him an answer right that moment. That you could take all the time that you needed and he would be patiently waiting for your answer.

How could you say no to a face like that, though?

You don’t say no, which is why you didn’t.

“And this?” Austin raises an eyebrow at you, holding in a laugh as he holds up one of the stuffed animals you packed.

You playfully roll your eyes before grabbing a pillow from his bed and throwing it at his head. Austin dodges it, though, using the stuffed animal as a shield.

“Put him down,” you laugh.

“Him?” He gives you a look. “Your stuffed animal is a ‘him’?”

You continue to laugh as you walk towards him and snatch the plushie out of his hand. “Why are you jealous?” you joke.

“Of course not, there’s nothing to be jealous of,” Austin snickers and goes to bend down to retrieve something else out of a box, but stops when he sees you toss the stuffed animal onto his bed. “What are you doing?”

“He needs a place to stay too,” you giggle as you walk into the closest to begin putting some of your clothes away.

“And he’ll find one, just not here,” you hear his voice say from behind you, but you continue your task.

You manage to fill up the majority of your side of the closest before deciding to take a break and move onto something else. Walking out, you expect to see the bedroom with more decoration, but instead all you see is Austin on the floor, going through your box of books.

“Have you done anything in the past 45 minutes?” You ask, your hands on your hips.

“Of course I have. I’ve managed to read one page from almost all of these,” he answers, motioning to the box in front of him, “and I gotta say, some of these are a little spicy. No wonder you’re always reading.”

Your eyes widen as you quickly take the book in his hands away from him, put it inside the box with the rest, and move the box out into the hallway. You’re an adult and you're allowed to read whatever you want, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed because some of the books are really dirty.

Austin chuckles as he watches you. “You know, sweetheart, you don’t need any of these books as your source of pleasure, that’s what I’m here for.”

“That’s not what I use them for,” you mumble as you step back into the room.

“Oh, really?” Austin raises an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Y’know, while you’re so focused on me, you could use some of that energy to actually get some of these boxes empty,” you huff, standing above another full box of items.

“But I’m supposed to be focused on you, am I not?” Austin asks, tilting his head in full confusion.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” you tell him.

“Alright, alright. What do you want me to do?” Austin questions, standing up from his spot on the floor to look at the mess scattered around the bedroom floor.

“Stop taking breaks, and unpack,” you emphasize, shoving a box into Austin’s chest. He stumbles back, but takes the box from your hands.

You leave him in the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen for a change of scenery — and so you don’t strangle Austin.

The house is still pretty empty, except for some small things and decor. The rest of your furniture was supposed to arrive today, but everything got delayed. It had upset you at first, but hey, what can you do? Besides, this gives you a chance to fully admire the home before you completely make it yours. 

You head into the kitchen to begin putting the dishware and kitchenware up where they belong. Surprisingly, the majority of it is Austin’s, given the fact he likes to cook, and you don’t really know how.

When you come across a mug Austin had bought you while he’s out of the country on a press tour, you can’t help but take a second to admire it.

You and him both know that you don’t really use them and that you just like to collect them because they look pretty.

Honestly, how did you ever get so lucky with a man like him? What did he see in you all those months ago when he had seen you on set? You were part of the crew, and that day Austin had been invited on set to meet the director. Of course, you thought he was cute, but you didn’t think anything could actually happen between the two of you – which is why Austin made the first move instead of you.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear Austin’s footsteps enter the kitchen. You feel him come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You told me to stop taking breaks, but look at you. You’re in here daydreaming,” Austin says.

“I get to because I’m actually doing my job and putting things away,” you tell him.

“Hey, I did put some things away,” Austin feigns hurt. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, placing the mug into the cabinet with the rest of the cups.

“Okay, let’s try again, but this time you actually tell me the truth?”

“Austin…” you sigh. You’re not really in the mood to pour out your feelings.

“No, don’t ‘Austin” me. Tell me,” he insists, giving you a light squeeze as encouragement. You breathe out another sigh as you contemplate whether you should tell the truth or not. When you take too long to decide, you feel Austin remove his head from your shoulder and turn you around to face him. He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue.

You just decide to say, “I’m just in my head is all.”

That’s all you needed to say for Austin to understand what you meant. “Sweetheart, I’ve already told you several times there’s no need to overthink.”

“I know, I know,” you nod.

“Do you?” Austin asks, dipping his head down so his eyes could meet yours.

“Yes, I do,” you reply, giving him a soft smile to try and reassure him.

“Okay…” Austin squints his eyes, not completely believing you, but he decides to move on. For now. Then he adds, “but just so you know I have no problem reassuring you.”

Your jaw drops as you hit him across the chest, causing him to smile. “And since we’re both doing such a good job with everything, I think we should take another break. I’m tired,” he continues.

You playfully scoff. “Of course you are. How about you go rest, while I continue,” you answer and go to move out of his grasp, but Austin just tightens his hold on your waist.

“Why don’t you join me?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Come on, baby,” Austin whines.

“No,” you laugh. You place your hands over his and try to pull them off of you, but again, no use.

“Okay, how about we do something else then?” Austin suggests, his voice getting lower as he begins to kiss the side of your neck.

“I thought you said you were tired,” you recall as you turn your head the best you can to get a good look at him.

“I am,” he tells you. You raise an eyebrow at him, already knowing he’s not finished. Austin then hovers his lips over the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’m tired of unpacking.”

You playfully shove him off of you, and this time he lets you. “Well, maybe if we get everything finished by the time the sun goes down, I’ll let you have what you want,” you offer, suppressing your smile as you move to the other side of the kitchen to tackle some of the boxes over there. 

“Y’know that is a good idea, but I have a better one,” you hear Austin say behind you, before you feel him grab your arm and spin you back towards him. A surprised gasp leaves your lips along with a giggle as your chest collides with his. “How about I just have what I want now?”

Before you could get another word out, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, already making his way in the direction of the bedroom.

“Oh come on!” you shout as you're turned upside down. You don’t put up much of a fight, as you allow Austin to drag you away.

“What? I gotta reassure you that you’re what I want,” you hear him say.

Once inside the bedroom, Austin plops you down onto the bed. As you start to crawl back towards the headboard, he just pulls you back down by the ankle.

“You’re such a bad influence,” you point out, your tone light. 

“And so are you,” Austin smirks as he begins to crawl over you. 

Just as his lips are about to connect with yours, you place a finger on his lips as something out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.

“Austin?”

“Yeah?” his eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“Why is my stuffed animal on the floor?”

“He wasn’t invited. That is unless you enjoy being watched, but I didn’t peg you for the type, baby,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Ew, quit it,” you lightly give his chest a shove.

“Wait a second, I didn’t hear you deny it,” Austin raises an eyebrow.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[deonsx]

Hi!!! I wanted to ask for an asthmatic!readerxRin, maybe they are best childhood friends and Rin feels the need to take care of her all the time:) 💞💞 (rry if my writing s bad, english isn't my first language)

Hii your writing is very well dont worry have a nice read my dear reader!! I wanna add sae here^^

The two of you had been inseparable since you were kids. Rin Itoshi wasn’t the kind of person to form close attachments easily but you were an exception. Maybe it was because you always stuck by him no matter how prickly he got or maybe it was because you were the only one who truly understood him even when he couldn’t put his feelings into words. Either way you’d been his best friend since forever

Your asthma however had always been a point of concern for him. From the first time he saw you struggle to breathe after an intense game of tag in the park Rin had made it his unspoken duty to look out for you “Are you sure you’re okay” Rin asked his teal eyes narrowing as you rummaged through your bag for your inhaler. You waved him off with a sheepish smile your breath still slightly uneven. “It’s fine Rin I just overdid it a little”

“You always say that” he muttered crossing his arms “But what if I wasn’t here What if-” He cut himself off jaw tightening. You sighed feeling a twinge of guilt. Rin rarely let his emotions show but when it came to you his worry was always just beneath the surface

“I’m fine really You don’t have to babysit me all the time” you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Rin glanced at your hand his frown deepening. “I’m not babysitting I just-” He trailed off his gaze flickering to the inhaler in your hand “I just don’t want anything to happen to you”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten and not because of your asthma. Rin wasn’t the type to say things like that easily which made it all the more meaningful when he did “You’re stuck with me for a long time Itoshi” you teased lightly trying to ease the tension. “I’m not going anywhere”

Rin didn’t smile but the sharp edges of his expression softened “Good Because if you scare me like that again I’m not letting you out of my sight” You laughed but the promise in his voice was clear. Rin would always be there for you whether you wanted him to or not

When he insisted on walking you home after school even though his own house was in the opposite direction “You didn’t have to come all this way, Sae” you said, adjusting the strap of your bag as you glanced at him “I know” he replied, his tone as flat as ever

“Then why are you here”

“Because I felt like it” You rolled your eyes knowing you wouldn’t get a real answer out of him. Sae’s way of showing he cared was always indirect like carrying your bag when you were too tired or slowing his pace when you were out of breath

As you approached a hill on your route, you felt the familiar tightness in your chest. You tried to keep your breathing steady, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but Sae noticed immediately “Are you okay” he asked, his sharp gaze flicking to you. You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah I’m fine”

“You don’t look fine” he said, stopping in his tracks. “Did you bring your inhaler” You sighed, pulling it out of your bag. “I’m fine I just need a minute” Sae didn’t say anything, but he watched you closely as you took a puff of your inhaler. His silence was heavy, not with judgment but with unspoken concern

When your breathing finally steadied, you looked up at him. “See All good. You don’t have to worry so much” He clicked his tongue in irritation. “You say that every time and yet I always end up having to worry” You laughed softly, his frustration oddly endearing. “You’re too serious, Sae. I’ve been dealing with this forever”

“That doesn’t make it any less serious” he shot back. “You’re careless” You raised an eyebrow at him. “And you’re overprotective” Sae didn’t deny it. Instead, he sighed and grabbed your bag off your shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m carrying this the rest of the wayy”

“I can carry my own bag” you protested “Too bad” he said simply, already walking ahead. You smiled to yourself, jogging slightly to catch up. Sae might have had a sharp tongue and a cool demeanor, but moments like this reminded you of how much he cared even if he’d never admit it out loud

Enjoy!

[baocean]

piss off your parents

chapter sixteen - low tide

note from the author - DOUBLE UPDATE LETS GO

you sat outside by the fire with sarah, kie, and a few of their friends from the cut.

they’d been talking about some drama, but you had been in and out of the conversation.

you were particularly distracted by the blond a few feet away from you, pushing and laughing with john b.

like he felt you staring, he turned to look at you, then sent a dimpled smile and wink your way.

you smiled back, then turned to sarah just as your phone started to ring.

pulling your phone out, your heart dropped at your mothers face in the contact photo.

you shot up in reaction, taking a few steps away from the laughing girls as you put the phone to your ear.

“yn, get home now.” she didn’t waste a second before scolding you.

“mom-” you went to defend yourself, make up some lie or arguement to get you out of it.

she cut you off, “yn. i’m not doing this with you. get home now or i will come get you.”

the phone line ran dead and you shoved it back in your pocket.

you started your walk up the beach. making matters worse, you watched as jj handed janey a beer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

you’d hoped he wouldn’t see you, or if he did, ignore you and keep his attention on your best friend. but of course, he didn’t, he stopped his movements as he watched you.

“bunny? you good?” he went to pull away from janey, but you shook your head.

“it’s my parents.” was all you said, before you hauled up the back steps and into the house.

jj tried to push the look on your face out of his mind. the girl of his dreams was practically sitting on his lap around the fire. why couldn’t he get you out of his head? this is what you both wanted.

you were in your kitchen, getting screamed at by both your parents, getting told you were an embarrassment, that you were ruining everything your parents had worked for, that you were destroying your future- you couldn’t get your mind off jj, and whatever he was doing with janey right now.

you should be happy for him, really. he was finally gonna get with janey.

and you probably would have been right, if jj hadn’t shut down janey’s offer to find somewhere quieter, practically running off the beach to find the twinkie parked amongst the other cars.

you had been ripped a new one, and after your parents went upstairs, apparently too exhausted to deal with you anymore, you went out to the end of your dock.

there was a low tide, the moon shining on the dark water as you cleaned some tears with your sweatshirt sleeve.

it was beautiful out, some part of you wanted to stay on this little dock forever, staring out at the water as the sound of crickets and the water falling against the sand.

your phone dinged. you didn’t want to check it, it was probably janey texting about how she added someone else, jj specifically, to her body count.

it dinged again, and you blindly reached into your pocket to turn the ringer off. you felt it buzz a few more times, but after a moment or two, it stopped.

you kind of wanted to just tell your parents to shove it and run away to chapel hill. yes, you had some of your own money, money set aside by the grandparents who didn’t totally hate you. but, no way would your parents let you dip into your trust to pay for school.

“fuck, yn. you could check your phone once in a while.”

the disruption of your quiet made you jump, whipping around to see jj walking down the dock.

your eyes flinched up to your parents window, almost like they would sense jj here and come down to yell at you again, but it was dark and motionless. flickering back down to jj, you let out a deep breath, something close to relief entangled.

maybe it was because your parents were asleep and completely unaware, but you were pretty sure it was because jj was here with you, instead of cozied up next to janey.

“by the way, i kind of…scaled your roof to see if you were in your room. your window’s lock is broken now.” he chuckled, sliding into the seat next to you.

“thanks. what are you doing here?” you asked, pulling the hood over your head.

“was worried about you. like, you took off like something was really wrong.” he leaned foward a little to peak around your hood, taking in your features. “you’ve been crying?”

you shook your head, turning it away from his worried look to wipe another sleeve under your eyes.

“they threatened to kick me out and cut me off.” your shoulders shrugged as you laughed, weakly and not at all real.

“well, if you do, you can move in with us. live like a proper pogue.” jj bumped shoulders with you as he joked.

you just looked at him, a regretful look on your face, and his smile dropped. “okay sorry, i don’t really know how to handle stuff like this.”

“can we just sit here?” you asked, turning back towards the water.

“f’course.” he mumbled, slouching against the wood.

without a second thought, and almost by complete accident, your head fell down against his shoulder.

his head laid against yours, then let out a comfortable sigh, like a silent affirmation.

“whatever happens, bunny, you’re going to be okay.”

his phone

her phone

masterlist | next chapter

another note from the author - ive started to incorperate more writing into this series, so just testing things out- if you guys dont like it please let me know!!!

taglist - @dr3amgrlll / @murdockcastleslut / @jjmaybankmylovee / @smokahontas-113 / @abslvrs13 / @enchantedstarfish / @reeseswirl / @lmaowhatt / @moonywhisp3rs / @dylsdaily / @idli-dosa / @bloodofadoll / @cokewithcameron / @mariamadison6-blog / @rrosiitas / @always-reading / @sunflouer04 / @bambigirl10 / @mirellef2001 / @wasiasproject / @bee-43 / @kissesandmartinis / @gublerstylesobrien1238 / @isinpfortvdmen / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @mjwashere / @sideboobrry11 / @ameliacione13 / @wrtzia / @sanriobuny / @dramagodesss / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1

[alikesical]

Forever Yours.

❛There's no love lost, but I'll be forever yours❜

Jason Todd x reader

trigger warnings: angst, character death

word count: 2564

Jason didn't know how to exist anymore...

Everything around him was wrong. All that he did, felt mechanical, like a mere muscle memory.

He woke up. He went to the repair shop. He'd go home. He'd lie still on his bed until his body gave away to exhaustion.

He was alone, even when in company, and God knows he had company. Dick and Tim, sometimes even Damian, would drop by and force him out of his room, even for a little while. Trying to take his mind off of you.

It never worked.

Why would it? How could he ever take his mind off of you when you were the one good, beautiful thing in his life. He didn't deserve you. He knew that much, but that never kept him from being selfish. From barging into your life.

"Please tell me you can fix it!" you pleaded with him the moment he got out of the repair truck, tears threatening to escape from your eyes.

Jason chuckled at your panic. Cute, he thought, as he walked towards you car, that had definitely seen better days, "I don't know what's wrong yet," he says and you simply nod, cursing yourself for asking stupid questions.

You struggled to stay quiet as he looked over your engine, not wanting to break his concentration.

"Well-" he opens his mouth to speak, but you're quick to interrupt him before he could even get a word out.

"It's bad isn't it?" you groan, pacing around, hands flailing around, "I dont understand how this could have happened! I haven't missed a single maintenance appointment, I swear! Please, you have to do something, I'll do anything! I really need the car-"

"I was about to say that its an easy fix," he chuckled cutting your rambling short, "But since you already offered to do anything, what about a date?"

You had a lot of these fights in the beginning. While trying to keep you at an arms length, Jason had not treated you the way he was supposed to, often being cold and rude. He thought he kept you safe that way, that you'd see him for who he really was and run for the hills.

He smiles to himself, remembering how flustered you got before agreeing with a shy smile.

Little did he know, you were anything but shy, never afraid to go head to head with him and demand to be treated right, even if he towered over you.

And you did see him. Only you actually did, not the twisted version he had in his mind, but who he was down to his core. You saw how scared he was, how much he needed to be loved. And that's exactly what you did, after sitting him down and ripping him a new one, for acting like a dick.

Jason shakes his head, as he approaches your door. He should not be doing that.

You were gone, he shouldn't be reminiscing, it just hurted him more.

But he can't help it.

Those memories are what remain of you in his mind, he couldn't help but recall them, searching for even a flicker of comfort in them. But that was never the case.

Instead he was reminded about how he'd never see you smile at him like that again, and his already broken heart, would get smash into smithereens all over again.

He didn't know how for long he was standing outside your door, not daring to step in. Afraid of what it would do to him.

He knew it was unhealthy, coming here day after day, but never entering. He should go in and gather your stuff, empty the apartment for someone alive to move in.

So he kept paying your bills three months later, keeping the apartment frozen in time.

But he couldn't bring himself to.

It felt like trying to erase you, move on. Jason didn't want to move on.

He feels his chest tighten at the familiar sight of your living room.

Babs told him that he should go in, at least try to get some closure.

He knows she's right, she usually is. So he takes in a shaky breath, trying to steady his hand as he unlocked the door.

"Jason?" you called as you stepped out your room, trying to put on your earrings, "Why are you not dressed yet?" he heard the click of your heals moving closer to the couch he sat on.

His head immediately turned towards the sound of your voice wanting to answer you, but found him self unable to.

You stood before him looking like a vision in your white dress, hair neatly pulled back. The sun was hitting your face, as you moved towards him, and he could swear heaven was real, because where else could someone like you come from?

You were the first light, to ever grace this world, and he was selfish to keep you away, to call you his. But he couldn't help but keep you close, hold on to your light.

"Jason?" you call again, now standing in front of him, a hand resting on his shoulder. You had this soft expression painted on your face, the same one you always had when you looked at him, the one that made him feel like he was worth something.

He smiles, bringing his hand over yours delicately, as if you'd break if he added any more force, "You are beautiful," he says and curses at himself for not being able to come up with something better. All these romance novels he read going to waste at the sight of you.

"I'm sorry, but an urgent mission came up," his heart breaks at how your smile falls, hating that he was the cause, "I'm really sorry sweetheart."

You chuckle at him, and he could get drunk on the sound, "Thank you love," you go and sit on his lap, throwing your arms around his neck, placing a soft kiss on his lips, palm caressing his cheek.

Cherries. You always wear the same cherry flavoured lipgloss.

After a moment you pull back, tilting your head as you looked at him, "I'd say you clean up well, but you're still in your T-Shirt?" you question, and he lets out a sigh.

You sigh deeply as you stand up, leaving him cold in your absence, "You better make it up to me!" you say pointedly, "This is the third time you had to cancel plans."

He knows. He knows all the times he messed up, even if you don't.

This, however, was not one of them.

He had this whole plan. He'd tell you the Bat called, you'd go out with your sister to have a nice dinner, and then she was gonna ask you to take a walk at the park, where he'd meet you both, under strings of fairy lights.

Jason was excited to get rid of the weight the little box added to his jacket, and sincerely hoped you'd get to bear it on your finger.

But for now he had to appease you.

"I know, I will," he follows your example, tailing you as you head towards the door, to grab your coat, "Give your sister my greetings" he says, holding it up, helping you slide into it.

"I will," you peck his cheek before opening the door, "Love you!"

"Love you, be careful," he calls out, watching your form descend down the hallway.

You turn around and smile at him, "I always am."

You never made it to the park.

There was an attack on the building you were dining on. By the time he got the news, you were lying open on a surgical table.

And by the time the surgery was over, you were gone, and he was left alone, the box in his pocket suddenly weighting a million tons.

He was too late...

He remembers everything about that that day.

He remembers he smell of the hospital, the face of the surgeon when she told him that she's sorry and that you aren't coming back. How the nurse called Bruce to come pick him up, after he spent 2 hours staring at the wall. Bruce's usually stoic face, looking down at him with pity.

He does however remember clearly how he got out of his bed and sneaked out of the manor, determined to avenge your death...

How he couldn't stop crying the whole night, the pain that seeped through his bones without any signs of stopping when he thought of what happened.

The following days however had formed into a mush, and he didn't know when one began and the other ended.

Dick told him that he didn't speak to anyone for days, locking himself in his room. He told him that he could hear him scream your name in the dead of the night.

He couldn't recall that. Or atleast he didn't want to.

He remembers stalking the Iceberg Lounge, waiting for Penguin to come out. He remembers his brother appearing out of thin air, reminding him that you wouldn't want him to go down this path.

He exhales as moves around the house, forcing the memories out of his mind, staring at the framed pictures you had. Some with your friends, some with your family, some with him.

He remembers crying on Dicks shoulder, not able to take it anymore.

He couldn't look at them, you couldn't bear the memories.

Still, his feet seemed to come to a halt where he knew a particular picture hang. He looks at it, trying to hold the tears in desperately.

It was a polaroid picture of him lying on your bed shirtless. He thought it was the ugliest photograph you've ever taken, but still picks it up.

"Why would you even want to take a picture of me?" he asked you not really understanding.

He was ugly. He knew that. All the scars on his body only proved it further. He can't understand why you would waste perfectly good film on him.

"Shush," you motion over him, legs straddling his waist, "Stay still!" you command but he still reaches up to grab the camera, just to be met by your hand pushing him down.

He knew that, practically, he could easily escape this predicament, but something about the position you were both in and your gaze left him unable too.

It was dangerous how much of an effect you had on him.

"Must there be a reason?" you ask, trying to get a good angle, "Can't I just take a picture of my very handsome, very hot boyfriend?" he sees you smirking behind the camera.

He remembers how fast the heat crept up his face, and how he immediately turned his head away from you trying to hide it. That was then you snapped it.

He hated that you had proof of him being flustered, but you always claimed it to be your favourite photograph of him.

He didn't understand still. But he trusted your words.

He quickly puts it back to its place, not wanting to disturb the house. Wanting it to be exactly as you left it. Even though coasters were scattered on the living room table, and the plates you had used to eat lunch, still on the drying rack. Even though the toothpaste didn't have its cup on, and the shampoo you always used was left open.

This way you were still alive. Still living in this house. Still in his life.

A single tear fell on Jason's cheek, and he made no motion to wipe it. You had made him promise, that as long as he was in here, he wouldn't have to hide behind a mask, he wouldn't have to be Red Hood, the tough vigilante, just Jason Todd, your boyfriend.

It feel like he'd been going back on his promise if he wiped it away. So he left the tear dry and headed towards your bedroom.

The moment he stepped in he could immediately smell the perfume you had chosen to wear that day. He didn't know how, but it still seemed to linger. Or maybe that was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Not daring to look around, already feeling his throat tighten up, he made a beeline for your bed, immediately letting himself fall down, engulfed by the familiar scent of your bedsheets.

He could hear you scold him for being on the bed with outside clothes on.

"That's disgusting!" you exclaim as he let a sigh of relief when his back hit the mattress, immediately closing his eyes "You'll get grease on the sheets!" you stood in front of him hands on your hips, glaring down at him

He cracks one eye open ,"Ill just change the sheets then" he mumbles, but you had different plans for him.

"Or maybe... go change," you say grabbing his wrist, with every intention to drag him in to the shower and out of your bed.

But he suddenly tugs his arm back, and with a yelp, you go tumbling down on top of him.

"But I'm so comfortable," he sighs, wrapping his arms around you like a blanket, pressing his face into your shoulder with a dramatic groan.

You struggled, trying to get out of his embrace, but he only held you tighter, "It's not funny!" you whined, "Let me go, you're literally covered in sweat and garage funk."

"No can't do, you're a hostage now."

You struggle, trying to wiggle free, but he only tightens his grip with a smirk.

"Resistance is futile," he murmurs.

"I hate you so much," you mumble giving up, knowing this is a war lost.

"I'll love you more," he says, a grin creeping up his face, at the feeling of you smiling against his shirt.

A small sob broke though his lips as a laugh at the memory.

But the one became many, and the sobs became wails as he laid on the bed, facing the ceiling. He couldn't breathe properly, hyperventilating, but still did nothing to stop it, to calm himself.

He just laid there. Crying, remembering all the promises he made to you under the same covers he was staining with his tears, all the dreams he had for you both.

How you would get married in a beautiful chapel, and he'd cry when you'd walk down the isle. How you'd move out to the country, away from Gotham. Away from villains and vigilantes, away from danger. How you'd have kids, and they'd have his eyes and your smile, how you'd make sure they knew they were loved. How you'd invite your families over once a month, and you'd have this huge meal, filled with laughter. How he'd help you clean after, but you would end up getting nothing done, preferring to dance to no music as your kids giggled in the background thinking you couldn't hear them.

How you'd grow old together.

How he'd go first because he couldn't imagine living without you.

But none of that would happen. He was alive, and he had to learn how to live without you. He had to learn how to move on.

You would have wanted that for him. You would have wanted him to be happy, to find someone else. To live his life.

But he couldn't, not when you were not by his side, not when he knew you lied six feet under, in a flower decorated grave.

Everything around him reminded him of you. Of your smile and your laugh, how you'd hold him when the nightmares appeared, how you promised to always be there.

You haunted him, and he didn't want you to stop. He didn't want to recover...

So he just cried until all his tears dried up, and he laid on your bed closing his eyes, pretending he cpuld feel your warmth next to him, until exhaustion took him into it's sweet embrace.

At least that way he'd be able to see you smile at him again. He could feel the weight of your head on his chest, and the caress of your fingers against his scars. Hear your voice telling him you loved him, even if for the last time...

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: The Space Between Us

Prompt: I’m so glad you’re back! Can you write something where the reader & Luke are in an argument? Maybe he’s struggling when he gets back from Afghanistan or something? Idk you can be creative with the rest :) Thank you!

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: PTSD symptoms mentioned

A/N: thanks for the request, enjoy! 

You’re in the midst of scrubbing a dish clean when you see the headlights of Luke’s truck pull in the driveway. 

He cuts the ignition. The sun is long gone, set beyond the hills in the distance, so when the door opens and closes with a thud, you can’t get a good look at him. Suddenly, you realize how torn you are between being relieved that he’s finally home and still so angry at him for leaving in the first place. 

The fight you’d had a earlier had been a bad one– probably the biggest you’ve ever had. And Luke looks… God, he looks so tired as he walks across the driveway, his silhouette illuminated by the porch light you’d left on. His head is hanging low, his feet trudging along the steps towards the front door. Under normal circumstances, you would greet him there– throw your arms around him the second he walked inside and bury your face in his neck. But tonight you can’t– because these aren’t normal circumstances. 

Instead, as soon as he steps through the door, you set the dish down and turn to face him. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs. The pet name he uses makes you cling to the small sliver of hope that maybe things will be okay. 

But still, your eyes burn with unshed tears. “Hi.”

“How has your day been?” he attempts. 

But you shake your head. “Luke, I really can’t fake pleasantries tonight.”

He scrubs his face with his hand and sighs, like he can’t wait to be done with this entire situation– the fighting, the chaos, you. As unbearable of a thought it is, you can’t help but glance at it in the horizon. What if that’s what’s happening here? What if he’s sick of you? What if his feelings for you had changed since he’d been away?

It’s a possibility– no matter how badly you don’t want it to be. 

“Listen, I’m just so tired–” He sounds defeated… empty. 

“And you think I’m not?” You challenge. 

He shifts before gripping his neck with his hand, still hovering near the door, not daring to move closer. It’s as if he’s already distancing himself from you… As if he’s done. 

“Well if we’re both tired, this probably won’t be a very productive conversation. Why don’t we just pick this back up after we’ve gotten some rest?”

You dig your nails into your palms, a distraction from the pain in your chest. He doesn’t get it– this anxiety that’s been making a home inside your chest. No matter how hard you push and plead. And you don’t know what else to say to make him get it. 

“How am I supposed to know you’d still be here by tomorrow?” 

His jaw tenses. 

“That’s a pretty fair possibility considering the shit you pulled today.”

Luke sighs. “I know I did and I’m–”

“You stormed out,” you say, taking a step forward so that you can grip the island counter. “You left.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and you know you need to let him talk. You know he deserves a chance to say his piece. But you’re still just so angry… you’re consumed by it. So you continue. 

“What if I had done that to you?” You ask. “What if I had been the one to take off and then just… not come home for over twelve hours?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“You’d be pretty worried, huh? Maybe a little mad…”

“Baby–”

“No, you’d be fucking pissed, Luke! I know you would. So why is it okay for you to do that to me? Why is it okay to take off and not answer any of my calls or texts?”

The pained look on his face tells you everything you need to know– that you’re right. 

“You say you have dreams– nightmares where you can’t find me,” you say, using the things he’s told you to prove your point– digging where you know it’ll hurt, because you’re just so fucking angry, and you need him to understand. “That was my reality today, Luke. You put me through your literal fucking nightmare.”

“Please don’t,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“I was so worried. I- I didn’t know where you were,” your voice breaks. I didn’t know if you’d ever come back– is what you don’t say… what you’re too afraid to say. 

When Luke got back from Afghanistan, that was supposed to be it. You were supposed to be through with the distance, through with the heartache, through with being terrified that every time the phone rang, it was someone telling you he was dead. 

But although he was discharged almost three months ago now– it doesn’t feel like it. Instead it feels like walking on eggshells and waiting for the other shoe to drop. And while you want to play it off as just an adjustment period and some misunderstandings, it’s starting to feel bigger than that. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice still empty-sounding. “I didn’t want to make you worry.”

“To make me worry?” 

“I was going to call,” he explains, “But my phone died. And I– I needed some space.”

“Some space?” You gawk. “Are you kidding me? You needed space?”

He nods, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. 

“Luke, you’ve been gone for three years. All you’ve had is space– all I’ve given you since you’ve been back is fucking space– I have waited and waited for you to come home from the army. I counted down the years, the months, the days– I lived on letters and shitty phone calls where I could barely even hear you because of the horrible reception. And now… you’re out, you’re home. You’re finally here, except you’re not. You never fucking came back from Afghanistan, Luke. You haven’t even given me a chance to not give you space because you’re not fucking here.”

There’s an eerie silence, a dramatic, drawn out pause that only seems to magnify the space between you. 

“That’s not fair,” he says. 

“Not fair? You really want to talk not fair, Luke? What’s not fair is leaving in the middle of an argument and not coming home all day. What’s not fair is not calling or texting or giving me some shred of fucking evidence that you were alright. I mean, do you understand how fucking worried I was? Do you even care?”

“Of course I fucking care– I just… I needed to–”

“Needed to what?” You snap, your voice raising as your arms flail in the air. “To take off? To leave?”

“I don’t–” Luke stammers, sounding so defeated. “I don’t know.”

Another beat of eerie silence settles between you. After only a moment, you can’t take it anymore. So, you ask the question you’ve been terrified to know the answer to. “Are you going back?”

His head snaps up, like he’s surprised you even asked. 

“Th-this is all my fault. Fuck, I should never have let this get—” he stammers. 

“Don’t,” you say, your voice louder than you thought it could be at your current state. “Just don’t, Luke.”

But he continues. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he tells you, and you have to swipe the tear sliding down your cheek before he can see. “I just…”

“Just tell me, are you going back?” you say, harsher than you intended. 

“No,” he shakes his head, adamant. Finally he looks at you. You hoped that would’ve given you some sort of comfort, but it doesn’t. Instead, you see pleading eyes, usually so warm you want to sunbathe in them, so familiar that you want to curl up and call them home. But tonight they’re neither warm nor familiar. 

“Then what is it? What the hell is going on?” you say. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I can’t keep— I can’t keep…” 

“Just tell me,” you plead, voice rising. Because you can’t stand this. “Please, just fucking tell me. Luke, I’m begging–”

“I can’t do this,” he finally spits out. “I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t.”

And there it is. 

The nail in the coffin. 

The final straw.  

Your worst nightmare.

“Right,” you exhale the rest of the air in your lungs. Before you burst into a sobbing mess in front of him, you give Luke a short nod and turn away. 

“Wait–” you hear him call. 

“It’s fine, Luke,” you say over your shoulder without looking at him. “Like you said earlier, we’re both tired.”

“Wait, wait,” he follows you up the stairs, but you were too far ahead of him.

“Just forget it–” you say, voice choking with tears. 

“Baby– stop, please–” he gets out just as you slam the door to the bedroom shut.

You stifle your sob in the sleeve of your sweater, back pressed against the door for a moment while you try to collect yourself. Then you walk to the bed and collapse on the mattress in a heap. As you curl up, clutching Luke’s pillow like it’s your lifeline, you try desperately to breathe between sobs. And then, even though you know he won’t, you hope with everything inside of you that he comes after you. 

…

You can’t sleep. Whenever you try, you just feel like you hear sounds of him leaving again– the screen door snapping shut, the zipper of his bag, the fear and anxiety only intensifying as the hours wear on.

All you have is silence and your thoughts.

I can’t do this, he had said. His direct words. 

You bury your face in his pillow as you try to hold back more tears, wondering if you’re imagining the way his scent is starting to fade from the fabric. How could you miss someone living under the same roof as you?

You roll onto your back again as you stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan whirl around and around steadily. 

“Fuck,” you mutter as you sit up. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes frustratedly before turning the lamp on. Was Luke even home? Or had he taken off again? You hate that you even have to wonder. How can things have gone so wrong so fast? 

As soon as the doubt creeps into your mind, you know it’s there to stay– at least until you can see for yourself whether or not Luke is still home. So, you swing your legs over the bed and head for the door. Except as soon as you swing it open and step forward into the hall, your feet collide with something– and before you know it, you’re crashing to the floor with a hard thud. 

All the air is sucked from your lungs as your stomach collides with the carpet beneath you. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Luke’s familiar voice hovers above you. 

And while you don’t really have the oxygen in your lungs to answer his question, when you turn your head and open your eyes, you can see the faint outline of his features from the lamp you’d turned on in the bedroom. His eyebrows are scrunched together– like they’re concerned, and his mouth is slightly agape. 

“Baby, are you okay?” Luke repeats, his hand hovering on the outside of your hips. 

“No–” you stammer, flipping so that you’re lying on your back. You barely choke out the single word before you’re bursting into unfiltered tears– the blubbery kind, where you can barely breathe in between sobs. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding panicked. He shifts, scooching forward so that he’s closer to you, but he still doesn't dare to touch you. “What hurts, baby?” 

All you can manage to do is shake your head before you move to cover your face with your hands– a feeble attempt at hiding from him. Like that would make any difference. At one point, you feel his fingers ghost along the fabric of your sleeve, trying to tug your hands from your face. 

“Look at me, baby,” he begs. But you just shake your head harder, resisting his pleas. 

“C’mon, I just want to know if you’re–” 

But he doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before you break. Flinging your arms down, you shout, “No I’m not fucking okay! Nothing about this is okay!” 

He flinches back, arms dropping to his side. Instantly, another wave of tears well up in your eyes, choking out before you can stop them. And suddenly, you’re crying so hard you can barely breathe. You’re a mess– all blubbery and pathetic in front of him. But you don’t even have the energy to care anymore. 

“Just breathe, baby. Breathe,” he says. He moves like he’s going to reach for you– and you let yourself get your hopes up in that fraction of a second. But then he drops his arm back down and frowns, like he’s caught himself doing something he isn’t supposed to. The space between you now only makes you cry harder, gasping for air in between sobs. He’s right beside you, but in some ways, he feels even further than when he was across the ocean. 

“I’m sorry I tripped you.”

You shake your head. “I’m– I’m not crying because you tripped me,” you bellow. Before you can see the questioning look on his face, you continue. “What–” you try to say, but your voice is too choppy. “What… are… you even–” you stammer harder. “What are you even doing out here? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry–” Luke repeats. “I didn’t want to sleep on the couch– I wanted… I wanted to make sure you were okay, I wanted to be there if you needed anything.”

You pause, realization washing over you. 

Luke was here–

Outside the bedroom door.

Sleeping on the floor like a goddamn golden retriever. 

But why? After everything he’d said– and the way he’d acted earlier? 

“You dumbass,” you snap, finally sitting up from the carpet. “I did need you. Why don’t you get that? Why don’t you understand that I fucking need you? That I’ll always need you!”

“I–” he stammers. “I don’t– I didn’t mean to upset you–”

“Well guess what? You leaving upsets me! You sleeping in the hallway instead of in our bed upsets me! You not wanting me anymore upsets me!”

“Wait– what? Not wanting you?” he says, his tone disbelieving.  

“Not being able to do this anymore– or whatever you said. Guess what, Luke? That’s upsetting!”

“I didn't mean it like that–” he says quickly, his eyes downcast as he seems to try to think if he really had worded things that way. “I– Fuck, I just– I just meant I couldn’t fucking handle… I couldn’t handle things–. I couldn’t deal with this… this feeling inside of me since I’ve been back from the army– I didn’t mean you– God, baby it was never you–”

“But–” you whisper, shaking your head. “You said–”

“I don’t remember what I said–” Luke explains. “I bet it was fucking stupid– I’ve been so overwhelmed and frustrated at myself. I don’t know what I said, but I promise I didn’t mean it like that, baby.”

You close your eyes at his answer, everything clicking into place. Is it possible that this was just all one giant misunderstanding? Did Luke still want to be with you?

“I thought…” you stammered, your voice next to nothing. “I thought you were done with me. You said you were done.” 

More tears escape down your cheeks and you duck your face to hide from him once again. 

“No– no. God, I’m so sorry… I can’t,” he says, his voice low and tired. “I just don’t feel like myself since I’ve been home. I don’t know what to do and I’m always on edge… I can’t breathe half the time. But I swear it’s not you–” he swallows and takes a moment to compose himself. 

“Then what is it?” You plead. “Why can’t you stand being home with me? Why aren’t I enough?”

God, you sound pathetic– but after the emotional roller coaster Luke had put you through these last few months, you really couldn’t help it. 

“I don’t know what it is–” he admits. “I wish I did, but I don’t. But please trust me, baby girl, you are enough. You’re more than enough. I mean, you are the only thing that makes me even feel alive anymore. I can’t believe you haven’t gotten sick of me– I don’t know how you’ve put up with this for so long.”

He lets out a loud huff when you launch yourself into his lap– completely erasing the distance between you two on the floor once and for all. Before he knows what’s happening, you’re winding your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in the crook of his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. He hesitates, but only for a moment, before his arms are securely wrapping around your waist, anchoring you to him. He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. 

“Because I love you, you idiot,” you sniffle. 

He squeezes you tighter, holding you to him like he’s scared you’ll disappear. You know the feeling, all too well. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers into your hair. “I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. Everything sets me on edge– every noise, every thought. 

When you pull back, your heart aches as soon as you see tears glistening in Luke’s eyes. You cup the outside of his face, your thumb trailing up and down his cheek. “We can figure it out,” you promise. “We’ll get you to see someone– a doctor or a therapist, or someone that can help. We’ll figure it out.”

He nods like he actually believes you. 

“I know you’re tired,” you say, shifting to move from his lap. “Let’s just go to bed, okay? We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

He nods and lets you tug him to his feet. You cling to his hand as you walk towards the bedroom, afraid that if you let him go, he’ll disappear again. 

“I can take the couch,” he says softly, making you halt in place. You turn to face him almost instantly. 

“What?” You shake your head, brow instantly furrowing. “No–” Instantly, you feel your anxiety creeping up again. 

“I just– I can take the couch if you want space.”

“No, Luke. I don’t want space. Do you want space?”

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good,” you say. “Then stay with me. Please.” 

He nods, while you walk him the rest of the way to your bed. He waits for you to crawl to your side closest to the wall before he slides under the sheets beside you. He looks stiff– awkward when he first lays down, but you don’t give him long before you’re scooting into his side, resting your head on his chest. 

“Thanks, for being patient with me,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll figure this out,” you say. “I love you.”

He gathers the hand you have resting on his chest in his own, lacing your fingers together and giving it a tight squeeze. “I love you, too.”

You exhale, noticing that even breathing feels easier with him beside you. 

[starsomens]

Okay hear me out

Noah and the reader have been together for years and one day when he came back home preparing for a special date with the reader she came in and they had a huge argument because of fake dating rumours about him and someone else online and the reader goes back to where she originally lived and the guys promised her that they wouldn't let Noah go but eventually he does chase after her to explain everything but here's the thing the day of the date...

He was going to propose.

idk if you like this idea just something that came up in my mind at 3am I just need you to write a actual good version of my version

Love you so much❤

Hello my love! It did not ignore this it’s because I took THAT long to get it all done 😭

I will use Poppy as a place holder of the rumors for this ask. I DO NOT CONDONE SENDING HATE TO POPPY OR SUPPORT OR SPREAD ANY RUMORS OR SPECULATION ABOUT HER!

"Don't act like you don't love the attention you getting from her!" you yell back at him

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you fucking hear yourself?" he yells back

This was a very explosive argument. This was their biggest tour yet, and successful nonetheless! But...there of course is always a downside to things and in this case it was, rumors. Specifically, romance rumors with Poppy since he had been seen with her a few times. The first was at the release party where Noah was attending without you....then the tour started.

You were tagged in countless pictures and posts of Poppy and Noah how everyone was calling them a cute couple, asking about you and asking if you both had split. Then the handshakes started, no it wasn't a big deal but with everything piling on....her doing something like a handshake...something so cute....you only wanted it to be with you

He came home wanting to take you out but you were just so tired and over everything. You didn't even give Noah one of your long passionate kisses like you usually did

"Yeah I do! It sounds like one of us is making sense!"

"Goddamn it Y/N, what the fuck is your problem?"

"You and her are my problem!" you were trying hard to hold back tears and keep your voice strong

"Will you fucking grow up, she toured with us, she sang on stage-"

"She wore you jacket, she did handshakes with you, you twirl her-"

"Are you fucking kidding me? A twirl? How old are you 5?"

"You don't fucking get it Noah," you sigh sitting back down on the sofa massaging your temples "it's more than that-"

"No it's not Y/N! You're fucking jealous over an artist who toured with us! You're so fucking insecure you can't stand to think I'm talking or interacting with some girl I work with," he snapped "i bust my ass on tour, show after show and I come back only for you to put up this bullshit?"

"......"

"Yeah keep you're fucking mouth shut because you know you're on some bullshit letting social media dictate our relationship like the gullible dumbass you are!"

You felt your chest snap and you bite your inner cheek as you stand from the sofa and go near the front door.

“Y/N….Y/N wait, I didn’t mean that you know what I mean- it’s- you’re not-“

The door slams and you left your shared home. You just walked instead of taking the car and that way he just wouldn't know where you were since the car was home. You even texted Nick and Jolly to keep him at bay because you just wanted space and to be alone.

This is NOT how this night was supposed to go....at all. AT ALL! He wanted to come home, take you to your favorite place, some ice cream after and then ask you to-

*Knock knock*

It was Nick and Jolly, they had com initially to try and calm the situation down, mostly Noah and to figure out what happened and how it all went down hill. Well, Noah explained what had happened. He started to hear the story for himself from his own mouth, and he stopped in the middle of the story and just stood up from the couch.

“I need to find her.”

“Look man, I think she just wants her space this was a lot-“

“You don’t get it Nick I NEED to find her. One way or another I’m gonna talk to her and apologize”

They really did try and stop him. They tried to stop him from leaving the house, but somehow his lanky ass got out the door. He gone to the car and drove around for a few minutes thinking of where you could possibly be. He tried calling and texting you and you were completely ignoring him. He even asked your friends, but he knew that they wouldn’t give him any information knowing that if he told them, he upset you, they would never want to hear from him again.

“Come on think! Think!” He scolds himself “…….wait what if-“

He makes a sudden turn on his next right. There was one place he could try, it may have been a slight chance but he remembered you said that it was strangely cozy and calming to be there. And it was a close enough walk to get there in about 10 minutes or so

As soon as he makes it to his studio building, he parks quickly and makes his way to the door and upstairs. Usually he would like doing some studio work at Home, most times when he is in the studio it’s when he’s working with the rest of the boys or really just needs to focus into the song he’s working on. He had you with him couple times and you really liked it there. He had given you a copy of the key to the studio only because if you ever felt that you were unsafe or you needed somewhere to go he wanted me to be somewhere where people knew you and he knew you’d be safe there. It was more than an emergency type of thing for you to have the key, but this was the one place he knew that you may be in.

He he he thought that you may have not been there, but he heard the very familiar sniff of you when you were crying….shit.

He gives a knock to one of the tables as to not startle you. He sees you and walks over to you, huddled into a ball and you were facing away from him. You knew his presence was there, but you didn’t want to look at him he said.

“Hey…..” he has no idea why he would start that way when he knew that you wouldn’t answer that

“Y/N, look I know I fucked up and I shouldn’t have said what I said, and you know that I didn’t mean it. I never think of you that way-“

“ but you still said it. It Hass to be true for you in some part of your mind…..” wasn’t true at all. He was just spewing bullshit. He doesn’t think any of that you ever in his entire life.

“No I don’t. Y/N, was being stupid Oky? I didn’t mean anything when I said that. None of that is true. I’ve never seen you that way in my eyes you know that….im sorry.” he knew that no matter what his explanations were he still had to apologize to you and he really was sorry from the deepest parts of his heart. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the person he loved the most in this world.

His heart broke every time he heard you sniff, or he saw the very faint shape of a tear falling down your cheek

“Y/N…. You know when we started dating I had a really deep talk here actually with Nicolas. that’s when I told him that I was seeing you, but I also told him that I was really scared…” he admits, you never heard from him “ I was scared because I didn’t know I would be doing the right thing and I didn’t know if I knew how to be a good partner in a relationship, especially because of growing popularity of the band I was…afraid that it would scare you off”

You turn your head just a bit, but not completely as you listen to his story

“ and Nick gave me probably the best advice I could have for that moment. He told me that relationships wouldn’t be easy because they never are and I’m going to fuck up really bad sometimes….. and you’ll forgive me even though I fucked up really bad. You should have forgive me still did.

“I-“

“ if you don’t forgive me, I understand. But I need you to understand that I know in this world you’re…you’re my entire world at this point, my source of happiness. Was supposed to go this way. I had an entire thing planned and I fucked it up because I didn’t reassure you in the right way.”

“Noah I….maybe I was-“

“No you weren’t. I know what you’re going to say and you weren’t being overdramatic you weren’t being jealous. Miscommunication, but that wasn’t your fault. It was mine for not clearing it up. I wanted to do this in a different setting and a different way but…” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box. He opens it to reveal delicate, like it was personally crafted to his design.

“Noah…..” you just couldn’t pinpoint your mix of emotions. You were still mad at him but at the same time you should have known better than to believe rumors and he pulled out.

“Y/N, my princess, my world, my muse, my everything. You’re the reason I keep going and keep trying to be a better person. The amount of questions I’ve answered as to how I’ve been able to do so many things and accomplish so many obstacles and just improve myself as a person and an artist…. All my answers come back to you. You are the reason for everything. We had a lot of thinking to do and one of the constant thoughts in my mind was you….”

You turned around fully facing him, fat tears running down your cheeks, and all you could do was just guck at him while he poured his emotions out. You were mad at him you knew how hard it was for him to fully express himself emotionally.

“… constantly every issue, every decision I always went back to you and how he would feel and what you would say. I love you. I went to the local jewelers and looked at rings and I bought it without hesitation because I just knew. I’m an asshole, and a jerk,”

“And a big fat meanie pants” you throw in your inside joke and he chuckles

“Yes, the biggest meaniest pants in the world. But the one thing I know I’m sure of is that I love you and I don’t want to picture the rest of my life without you. Y/N….will you give me the honor of being your husband? If you’ll still have me.”

You chuckle as the tears still fall

“ you are the dumbest guy I’ve ever dated…..”

He could feel his heart sinking his chest, thinking that you were about to rip him a new one, and he wouldn’t blame you….

“But, you’re also the most sincere I’ve been with……Noah, somehow always find a way to make up for your wrongs and I have no idea how you do it” you giggle as you closer to him, he was still holding the box waiting for your response

“ as long as you promise you’ll make up for tonight I think I can marry you”

“Awh even after I poured my entire soul out to you?” he says, sarcastically holding a hand over his chest. “ I think I can work something out.”

“You better, I can take my back answer back” smile slides the ring onto your finger and hold your hand tightly

“Eh I don’t think so baby, you’re stuck with me for life now,” he slides his hand up your arm after he puts the ring on and gently squeezes and caress the skin with his thumb

“I really am sorry baby. Truly deeply sorry.” he stands up and holds your hands as he do to bring you up with him and he brings you into a hug as he repeatedly kisses your head. “ and makes it up to you. I think I know a way to put those rumors to rest.”

“You do?” You looking up at him and he gives you a nod

The next day, Noah takes it upon himself to get back onto his social media platforms and announce his engagement to you. He made sure to include some of his favorite pictures of you guys together and wrote a heartfelt small paragraph. Putting arrest to the rumors and addressing who it was in his life that he loved the most.

It was saved to say that the band and him had blown up over the next week with the engagement course, Noah wasn’t big on social media as he has stated before and it wasn’t a huge deal but him going out of his way to put a statement out there on your end his behalf really did mean something to you. Next step was to plan for the actual wedding.

[frutiestorange]

Supernatural fic recs for people like me who dont ship destiel or wincest!!(mostly sam focused)

>You Can't Rule with a Broken Upper Hand-inkandpaperqwerty-A03-castiel focused (top on my to reread list, and inkandpaperqwerty a lot of other bangers too)

Successfully killing Lilith and keeping Dean out of Hell has the brothers ready for a good, old-fashioned, hunter-on-demon brawl. It's time to get back to the basics, back to the way things used to be, when monsters got ganked and that was the end of things. That said, they are not ready for a new kind of creature to appear in the middle of their fight, covered in blood and begging for mercy they aren't supposed to give.

Meanwhile, Castiel is panicking. He's been tortured senseless for four decades straight, and now he's been thrown down in front of two hunters. If he thought his brothers were bad... well, all angels knew how cruel hunters were... and Castiel has no idea how to convince them he doesn't need to be, in the shorter one's words, ganked.

>Living expenses- by Tolakasa-sams stanford era focused-Fanfiction.net (i love it sooo much go read it rn)

Preseries. Scholarships don't pay for everything. When you're not talking to your family, that makes summer the worst time of the year.

>Damaged Goods-by Taizi-A03-childhood abuse,dean and sam-(Taizi NEVER misses and i will die on that hill, go read all of their works and tell them i sent you)

"It really didn't happen all the time, dad wasn't abusive. And he loved us, Sam, you know he did. It's just- everything got to him, you know? Mom, and Yellow-eyes, and all the daily shit we had to swim through, sometimes it was just too much for him and he drank it all away."

>Misconception-by authoressjean-A03-hurt/comfort,all the winchesters together including mary and john-NOT WINCEST in the SLIGHTEST, but John sure thinks so.-(Once again, go through all of authoressjean's works if you want the best fics ever)

A view or opinion that is incorrect because it is based on faulty thinking or understanding.

AU of 14x13. Instead of rushing to get John back to his own time, they decide to let him stay a little longer. Time won't completely collapse with one night with their dad, so what harm can him staying do?

For Sam, a lot of harm. John believes something about his sons and he's determined to set all the blame at his youngest's feet, revealing painful secrets that Sam would've preferred to stay hidden, things he feared anyone finding out, things John feels are wrong.

Too bad for John that Mary and Dean don't feel the same way and are more than ready to back Sam.

NOT WINCEST in the SLIGHTEST, but John sure thinks so.

Two-shot.

>The Gate is Straight, Deep and Wide-by ratherastory-A03-(i havent read this one recently but i remember it being pretty good)

Part of the Fusion 'verse. Sam walks out of hell and finds his way home. From a prompt at the First Time comment-fic meme by the lovely and talented de_nugis: The first time Sam gets that Dean does unreservedly trust him again, coupled with the first time Dean gets that Sam really does want nothing more than he wants to be with Dean.

>One Saved Message-by ratherastory-a03-VOICEMAIL FIX IT!!-(one of my all time favs)

After a hunting accident puts Sam out of commission for a couple of days, Dean decides to surprise his brother with a new phone, since his old one is toast. Even better is when he finds that he’s been able to save all of Sam’s old information and restore it to his cell. That’s when he discovers an old voicemail that Sam has kept saved for the last two and a half years… Charity fic for help_japan. sinka won a fic from me and requested some Voicemail fix-it fic, and that is what I have attempted here. Spoilers for all aired episodes up to 6.19.

ok these are as many as i can bother to dig up but i have so many more, my fellow non-shippers stay strong out there and comment if u want some specific tags or tropes (!!i have mostly sam focused fics!!) or just want more recs!! ill be sure to dig some more up for u (or if you have any recs for me(preferably no ships BUT if theyre really good ill check them out anyways) i will love you forever

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter three

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: You and Eddie go to a party.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

TAG LIST: @emma77645, @aliciabb17, @gracieluvthemoon, @kellsck, @figmentofquinn, @mediocredreams

—

Parked on the crowded street a block away from Chrissy Cunningham’s massive Loch Nora home, Eddie sat fidgeting with his hands in his lap. The van was idled. He made no attempts to unbuckle himself, so you turned in your seat to assess him.

Down the road, the yard was full of teenagers, the party seemingly having spilled over from the house to the entire property. Eddie was observing the attendants with a narrowed gaze, almost suspiciously.

You were starting to feel bad for dragging him along.

“Eddie, you don’t have to come in. I’ll just go say hi to Chrissy, and then we can go do something else, if you want,” you suggested, voice soft.

He very much wanted that.

But he knew you were hoping to spend some time around your best friend, and with how often you babysat for Olly nowadays, Eddie assumed you hadn’t had much availability for a social life lately.

He didn’t want to be the reason you missed an opportunity to have fun.

He briefly thought of telling you he was just going to head back to the trailer and for you to enjoy your time at the party, but you’d invited him, and you’d seemed so ecstatic when he’d agreed.

And truthfully, the idea of ditching you there gave him the same uneasy feelings that going inside the party gave him.

It seemed to be a lose/lose situation.

Tired of battling with himself, Eddie decided he was going to go with the option that allowed him to spend more time with you. Otherwise, he’d have to sulk back to Forest Hills and spend the night overthinking about what you were up to. And who you were talking to.

Eddie wasn’t used to the feeling of possession that curled in his stomach at the thought of other guys trying to get with you.

For a brief moment, he let his doubts swirl freely in his mind, his badgering inner voice reminding him that he was no rich jock with a full ride to an Ivy League and was instead just a drug dealing super, super senior who did nothing for his professional future except dream of one day making it big with his music.

But from the fervid patience you were awaiting his answer with, Eddie had to shake his head clear of self-deprecation, recalling your earlier conversation where you had said you actually liked spending time with him, and had told him you wanted to attend the party with him – not Andy or Patrick or any of Jason Carver’s other rich boy cronies.

Who was he to deny you your wildest, most incomprehensible wishes?

“No, no, let’s go,” Eddie finally said, turning off the van. He shot you a grin, full of false bravado. “Really, I wanna go.” He didn’t, but he was going to fake it ‘till he make’d it.

You returned the grin without hesitation, eyes filling with relief. For a moment there, you’d half expected Eddie to bail on you. And really, you wouldn't have blamed him, considering being put in this social situation was clearly wreaking havoc in his brain.

Eddie clicked the van locked and pocketed the keys as you tried to sweeten the deal for him, wanting to ease as much worry as you could. You didn’t bring him here to stress him out, you brought him here so you could both have a good time, drinking and laughing without the obligation of watching a six-year-old.

“I think Steve might be here,” you offered, knowing the pair had become quite close.

If Eddie were to be honest, hearing Harrington might also be there did make him feel better.

Dustin had introduced them to one another the year prior. While they didn’t mesh at first, essentially polar opposites, the two bonded when they’d both impromptu taken edibles together.

It happened one movie night at Nancy Wheeler’s.

Eddie brought his own brownie stash and had accidentally left them out on the kitchen counter. Steve, thinking Mrs. Wheeler had baked the goods for the get-together, had eaten two before Eddie caught him. He spent the first part of the night talking Steve down out of a panic attack, and then they spent the second part of the night laughing their asses off, laying in Nancy’s pool fully clothed, floating on almost airless rafts.

They’d been friends ever since.

Something else also made Eddie feel better about heading into the party.

You had grabbed his hand in yours at some point as you made your way up the driveway, your warm fingers interlocking with his own.

For the second time that night, you made him feel invincible.

Like nothing could go wrong.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You hadn’t been inside the house two minutes before Chrissy’s voice rang out in the midst of the crowd.

“You made it!” the girl practically yelled, weaving her small frame through the sea of bodies that packed the usually spacious foyer. When she finally made her way to you and Eddie, she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, drunkenly swaying side to side and giggling. When Chrissy pulled away, she looked to your side, spotting your companion. “And Eddie! Hi, Eddie!”

Eddie couldn’t help but crack a smile at the bubbly blonde’s welcome. She, like you, had been a rarity at Hawkins High School.

Whereas most of the popular students had either avidly avoided the likes of Eddie or chose to interact with him solely to make his life a living hell, you and Chrissy never negatively singled anyone out. Instead, the two of you would do things like volunteer to be partners with the quietest kids in class for a project, or you’d both sit with new students during lunch until they found their own cliques.

Eddie never understood why either of you willingly chose to spend your free time with the likes of Jason and the rest of the Hawkins sports roster. He chalked it up to you both just playing your predestined roles. Once you fit a certain mold or stereotype in Hawkins, it was pretty hard to branch out from it. Eddie of all people could understand that.

“Hey, Chris,” he greeted, happy she didn’t go to hug him as well. The last thing Eddie needed was Carver thinking he was making moves on his girlfriend.

Actually, the quicker he got away from her, the better. He liked Chrissy, he truly did, but wherever she was, her loverboy was soon to follow, and Eddie didn’t feel like being instigated into a fight right now.

His eyes flitted around the expanse of the house, eventually spotting Steve by the sliding glass back door, standing with Nancy and Jonathan.

Your gaze followed Eddie’s. You hadn’t been totally sure Steve would be there, so you inwardly thanked the universe for small miracles. Now that Eddie could relax in like-minded company, you didn’t feel so bad parting ways with him for a little while. Of course, you wouldn’t have minded if Eddie tagged along by your side the whole night, but you knew he’d dread every minute of having to be around Jason and his buddies, who unfortunately came with the Chrissy package.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” you lightly nudged Eddie’s shoulder with yours, smiling up at him. “I’ll come find you in a little bit.”

Eddie’s chocolate hues dropped to you, a grateful expression on his face at your suggestion. “Don’t leave me hangin’ for too long, sweetheart,” he teased, although he really wasn’t joking at all. “I dunno how long I’ll last around all these big, scary basketball players without my Princess to protect me.” After a dramatic bow, Eddie vanished into the crowd.

Chrissy, beyond inebriated, hadn’t paid much attention to the exchange. With Eddie gone, she pulled on your arm, tugging you away, slurring, “C’mon! Y’have so many shots to drink t’catch up with me!”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You really had not planned on getting drunk.

Tipsy, yeah, sure. A few beers, maybe a shot or two of some expensive spirit Mrs. Cunningham had imported from Europe.

But glassy-eyed and giggly, your skin flushed warm, an alcohol-induced pink blush sprouted over the apples of your cheeks?

No, that was not in tonight’s itinerary.

But Chrissy knew you’d been slaving away with work the past few months, hardly finding time in your busy schedule to come see your best friend cheer or link up and spend too much money at Starcourt Mall like you both used to.

You, although the same age as Chrissy, had gotten your diploma a year early, and hadn’t stopped working toward your goal of getting the hell out of Hawkins from the moment you walked across the stage at graduation. At job after job, you would often work overtime and weekends, trying to save up as much as you could.

It was admirable, but there had to be balance, something you were never good at finding on your own.

Damn Chrissy Cunningham for being so persuasive and persistent, wanting her best friend to let loose again and join her on a drunken tirade, similar to those you’d indulged in throughout your time together in high school.

Chrissy had begrudgingly disappeared several minutes earlier after Jason had swept her away. She didn’t want to leave you yet, wanted to spend as much time with you as she could, but she didn’t want to disappoint Jason either. You could see the struggle in her eyes, so you made the decision for her, promising you’d catch up more later in the week.

Plus, while you loved your best friend dearly, right now you felt a drumming deep within you – a desperate sensation. The tequila you’d downed urged you to find Eddie. You wanted to curl up into his side and breathe him in, wanted the aroma of his strawberry blunt wraps and tea-tree mint shampoo to fill your senses.

The party had dwindled down some, but there was still an impressive amount of people stationed all over the house, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where your long-haired target was hiding out. There was no double vision yet, but you blinked a few times and took a breath to stabilize yourself anyway, not wanting to stumble drunkenly as you walked.

You’d made it as far as the kitchen when two arms branched out around either side of you, a letterman jacket coming into view as your lower back was pressed against the marble of the island counter. A tall male with dark hair and dark eyes smirked down at you, a predator satisfied he’d cornered his prey.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi, Chance,” you answered, not appreciating the personal space he was impeding on. You attempted to move out of his barrier, but he just repositioned his weight, keeping you caged in between his arms.

His breath was hot on your cheek, the smell of beer wafting from him strongly. Everything about him was making your stomach turn. “What’re you doin’ all by yourself?” he asked. “Heard you came with Munson,” pause for a scoff, “but I knew that must’ve been a fucking joke.”

“Why would that be a joke?” you countered, brows furrowed. “I did come here with him.” You moved your gaze from the annoying presence in front of you to scan the room, trying again to find Eddie. “Actually, d’you know where he is?”

“Oh yeah, saw him drawing a pentagram on the sidewalk out front. Think it was in virgin’s blood. He was speaking some other language, too.”

You rolled your eyes, your patience running very thin. You were so sick of people making assumptions and passing judgments just because someone else was different than they were.

You had half a mind to make a snide remark about how the whole town knew Chance Deely’s mom had an affair on his dad with the pastor from the Presbyterian church, and did that mean she must have been worshiping demons too since she did something so immoral and uncouth?

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, trying again to duck away from his arms.

You took in a sharp breath when you felt Chance’s hand move to grip your waist, pulling your body to his.

“Come on, babe,” he said, the pads of his fingers digging uncomfortably into your clothed skin. “Lemme take you home. I know your daddy likes me. I’m sure I can convince him to let me stay the night…”

What a clueless moron. He didn’t even know you hadn’t lived with your parents for the past year now. But you’d let him keep thinking that, finding solace in the fact that he didn’t know where to find you if the creep ever decided to try and stalk you out one night.

“And do what?” you asked, now emboldened both by your intoxication and the nerve this idiot had cornering you like this. “Have a sleepover with him? I don’t want you, Chance.”

His jaw ticked, his features hardening, undoubtedly in an attempt to make you feel small and scared. You felt neither.

“Get off of me, Deely. I mean it.”

“Or what, huh? You gonna sic your vampire boyfriend on me?”

“No, I’ll fucking bite you myself.”

His eyes flashed and his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he considered you, humming in approval.

“Yeah, I’d like to get that mouth on me…”

You rolled her eyes again, so hard this time you wondered if they’d stick. “In your wet dreams, douchebag. Now get. Off.” You tried prying yourself away from him once more, swatting at the hand he had on your waist.

It just made Chance double down, pressing his center against you crudely. “I’m trying to get off, baby,” he said, giving a disgusting pout. “You won’t let me.”

“Do you not know what ‘no’ means, Deely?” a familiar voice interjected from behind Chance.

Your heart swelled as you raised your gaze to find Eddie’s dark eyes glaring daggers at the boy who’d had you cornered. You smiled wide at him, an odd juxtaposition when mixed with Eddie’s beyond irritated expression and Chance’s feeble attempts at seduction (which were more harassments than anything else).

You were so relieved to have this Bambi-eyed boy come to your rescue.

“What I do know is that nobody asked you, Munson,” Chance countered. He still kept his body turned towards yours, much to your dismay. “Why don’t you go and fuck a corpse or something, freak? Leave me –”

But his words were cut off when you brought your knee up to budge as hard as you could in between his legs.

Chance whined loudly, falling to the ground, clutching his hopefully bruised balls in his hands.

The partygoers had been distracted with their own conversations up until that point, but with Chance Deely crying out on the floor, writhing around pathetically, everyone’s attention was on you and Eddie.

“The fuck’s going on in here?” came Jason Carver’s voice over the other loud mumblings in the crowd.

“That's our cue to leave, Princess,” Eddie alerted, grasping your wrist in his hand as he pulled you from the Cunningham residence with haste.

You tossed your head back and laughed, hurriedly following Eddie out.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

The ride from Chrissy’s place to yours wasn’t long at all. Five minutes, tops.

While Eddie was focused on the road ahead of him, fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel at the thought of Chance Deely’s roaming hands, you were staring intently at your getaway driver.

You watched as his jaw clenched and relaxed, then clenched and relaxed again. He wasn’t doing anything special, just sitting there stewing in inner turmoil, but he was still so, so handsome. Handsome and heroic.

Although you were the one to administer the knee to Chance’s most prized possessions, you knew Eddie wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same and maybe even more to defend you. You thought back to the hateful look in his eyes as he stared the back of Chance’s head down, fists ready to make contact with the stupid fuck’s face if need be.

Eddie’s eagerness to be of service to you, for you, turned you on more than you thought it would. The fuzzy feelings from the alcohol helped loosen your inhibitions, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together for some sort of friction as Eddie pulled up in front of your apartment.

You watched as he took a deep breath in, eyes shutting momentarily before exhaling and turning his attention to you.

He softened his face, forcing his mouth to curve into a smile. Underneath it all, you could tell he was still buzzing with anger and adrenaline.

“Would you please walk me inside?” you asked, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. You were trying to appear inconspicuous. “They might know where I live. I’d feel safer if you came up with me.”

‘They’ meant Jason and his friends.

It maybe was a bit of overkill on your part to pull the damsel in distress card. You weren’t afraid of Carver or Deely. For the most part, they were all talk.

It also helped your sense of security that your neighbor across the hall was a police officer, something which Jason was aware of. He’d almost gotten arrested for banging on your door at one in the morning to try to get to Chrissy after the couple had one of their explosive arguments.

Chrissy had found refuge at your apartment a handful of times over the past year, leading Jason to look your address up so he always knew where to find his girlfriend when she ran off.

Each time he came pounding, Officer Hammond would swing open his door and dangle a pair of cuffs in Jason’s direction. It had the blonde boy scurrying away, the fear of an arrest that would hurt his chances at a basketball scholarship dominating his caveman impulse to steal Chrissy away.

Technically, you weren’t lying to Eddie. Although you weren’t scared of Carver and his friends, you would feel safer with Eddie around. Just because.

And fortunately for you, Eddie would never pass up the chance to play protector, especially when it was you who was asking him so nicely.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

“I can’t believe you kneed him in the nuts, that was fucking hilarious,” Eddie laughed, following you up the stairs to your third-floor apartment.

“I should have twisted them off, but then I would’ve had to touch him.” As an afterthought, you added, “Which, gross.”

“So gross,” Eddie agreed.

Stepping inside your apartment, you immediately kicked off your shoes. Eddie’s eyes dropped to the ground, following your movements, and he noted that you were wearing those cute white ankle socks with the pretty lace ruffle at the top. Those were the kind he remembered you wearing all the time at school, complete with your green, white, and yellow cheer outfit.

The memory of you in that uniform, bouncing up at down at one of the school rallies, had Eddie trying to secretly adjust himself in his jeans.

He he hung back in the doorway, ready to leave.

Eddie’d noticed the rousing stare you’d been giving him in the van. It was a look he’d often shot your way, when he was sure you weren’t paying attention. Full of want and yearning. He hadn’t missed the sight of your thighs pressing together either.

But you’d been drinking. That probably explained away the actions. You just weren’t thinking straight.

Eddie didn’t want to overstep or take advantage, so his plan was to be a gentleman and escort you up, then head back to his van and jerk off to the thought of you begging him to touch you.

You had other ideas.

You reached your hand out and bunched your fingers into his black Iron Maiden band tee, trying to tug him toward you. It wasn’t enough to physically move him, but enough so that he’d get the gist of what you wanted.

“What’re you still doing out there?” you asked, tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes. Your expression was coy. “You can come inside, Eddie.”

A double entendre if he’d ever heard one. He had to force back a groan as his imagination went wild.

“I shouldn’t,” he tried, hand moving down to grasp yours in an attempt to loosen your grip. Eddie didn’t really want you to let go, though. He wished you’d grab him harder, not give him a choice, pull him inside and have your way with him. Gentleman, gentleman, gentleman, he had to remind himself in his head. “I was just making sure you got up here safe. I should, uh, probably get going… it’s kinda late…”

The pretty pout you shot at him further loosened his resolve to leave, and he felt glued to the spot in your entranceway. “I’m a big girl, Eddie, I don’t have a bedtime. You don’t wanna hang out more?” you asked, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. “Y’know, I wasn’t serious about being afraid of Jason and his boyfriends… it was just a big ploy to get you to come up here with me.” You bit at your lip in an effort to hide a grin, trying to keep the innocent facade playing on your face. “Thought maybe I could show you where I live, since I’m always at yours… and I just rented the new Texas Chainsaw movie. Haven’t watched it yet.”

Eddie found it was getting increasingly harder to say no to you, with your hands on him, pulling him gently toward you. Each word you spoke sounded like it was being sung by a siren.

A movie seemed… safe.

His eyes drifted past you to your living room, where he assumed you’d want to watch it. He was satisfied with the size of the couch. He’d be able to put enough space between the two of you to keep it friendly, because that’s probably what you really wanted, just to be friendly, but the buzz you were still feeling maybe had you thinking you wanted to be a little more than just friendly.

In the morning, Eddie figured you’d probably regret anything you may have ended up trying to do. He promised himself he wouldn’t let you get that far. He figured he’d be able to limit any physical contact by positioning himself at whatever far end of the couch you weren’t on.

He really, really did want to be around you. He just couldn’t for the life of him believe or understand why you were saying you wanted the same thing. Must’ve been the booze.

But he could take advantage of this moment, couldn’t he? Without taking advantage of you? He would just make sure things stayed PG.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess,” he conceded, giving in and walking inside. He clicked the door shut behind him, happy to have your hand still clinging needy to his shirt. “I can’t say no to a pretty girl who wants to watch Tobe Hooper with me. There’s just one thing that’d make this night even better…”

You rose an inquisitive brow at him. You could think of many, many things that would make this night better, and they all ended with you so fucked out that you couldn’t remember your name and could only remember Eddie’s.

Maybe he was about to finally give you both what you wanted – or, well, what you wanted, and what you had only hoped Eddie wanted, too.

You leaned closer to him, waiting for his suggestion.

“Got any popcorn?”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You’d been on the couch with Texas Chainsaw Massacre playing in the background for the past half hour.

While you had ulterior motives and didn’t plan on strictly watching the entire time, Eddie was acting as if this was the greatest movie to have ever been written, his wide eyes almost unblinking as he focused on nothing but the television.

And even though he was also seated on the couch, he still seemed far away, having chosen to sit at the end furthest from you.

You didn’t want to encroach on his personal space, fearful maybe you’d been reading every sign you’d ever thought he’d given you wrong and he in fact wasn’t interested. Had you known for certain he wanted you like you wanted him, you would have been in his lap the second he sat down.

You had to play it a little safer first. Test the waters.

This is how your socked foot ended up in Eddie’s lap.

Totally safe.

The empty bowl of popcorn, which had been resting on one of Eddie’s knees, clattered to the floor when he felt your heel weighed down on his thigh.

Eddie had been forcing his attention to stay focused on the movie, not daring to drift his eyesight to you sprawled out beside him, your tight sundress so far up your legs he knew he’d be able to see your panties if he looked.

His gaze finally shot over to you when you’d made the contact, but you were now the one pretending to be engrossed in the gory horror movie. Eddie could have sworn he saw an uptick in the corner of your mouth when the bowl clattered to the ground, but it was dark and he couldn’t be sure.

Swallowing hard, his eyes dropped down to his lap, watching as your foot flexed and relaxed repeatedly.

The crotch of his jeans felt tight, his heartbeat picking up pace at the thought of you possibly feeling how hard he was growing right now. If you’d just move your foot over one or two more inches, he’d feel the solid warmth of you where he wanted to feel you the most.

How would you react? Would you freak out? You wouldn’t, right? You were playing footsies with his fucking lap, for Christ’s sake. This wasn’t innocent, was it? It couldn’t have been.

“You don’t mind, right?” you asked him, attention still on the TV, forcing nonchalance into your tone. “Feels good to stretch like this. And you’re so warm.”

He was about to respond, was about to say he didn’t mind, not at all; fuck, he’d be anything for you — a footrest, a heater, a guard dog, a servant, a total fucking fool. But when your foot finally met with the bulge forming under his denim, Eddie inhaled harshly, a hand coming up to wrap around your ankle, stopping you.

When he turned to look at you this time, you were staring right back at him.

You were propped up on your elbows now and he could feel you trying to wiggle your foot free.

“Let me, Eddie,” you urged. “Please.”

His grip faltered on your ankle at your pleading, and you took the chance to weasel it out of his hand. You wasted no time tracing the thick outline of him over his jeans with the ball of your foot, the bite of the zipper pressing into his sensitive length causing him to hiss.

You brought your other foot up to join in, using your toes to curl around the girth of him, kneading back and forth.

Those fucking socks, fuck. Eddie already had his fair share of dirty fantasies of you in your cheer uniform – the whole ensemble, head to toe – and he knew he’d now never be able to look at a pair of lacy frilled socks normally ever again.

Eddie groaned, his head falling back against the couch. His eyes fluttered shut but only momentarily before they found you again. You didn’t bother containing your wide grin, your teeth sunk into the softness at the center of your bottom lip.

“Put your hands on them, pet,” he gave another groan at the nickname, “so you can make yourself feel good.”

Eddie’s brain was clouded with desire, and he could feel his face warming at your request.

“I don’t – I mean, um… you’re drunk…” he was stumbling over his words because your feet wouldn’t stop, rubbing and pressing in all the right places.

Your head dipped back with a little laugh. “Not really,” you lied. You were definitely still feeling the effects of a forgotten number of mixed drinks, but that didn’t change the fact that you’d been hoping this was where the night would lead five hours ago. Or even five months ago. Very pre-drunkenness. “And even if I was…” you trailed off momentarily, giving your heel another ground down against his lap. “Was I drunk when I held your hand at the party? Or when I told you earlier how much I liked being around you?”

Eddie thought for a moment before shaking his head. No, you weren’t. Holy shit, so he had read all your signs right. You were interested in him. He wasn’t just imagining all of it.

Okay, fuck. He could work with that. He probably shouldn’t, probably should have stuck to his guns and told you to wait until tomorrow when you were for sure sobered up.

But Eddie was typically an act now, deal with it later type of guy. And right now, he was finding it very hard to be any different.

He’d never done anything like this before, had never even gotten much further than just making out, but Eddie didn’t let his self-doubt rule at the forefront of his mind for once.

Not tonight.

Not with your feet in his lap and your voice telling him the dirty things you wanted him to do. Not when his upstairs brain was closing up shop, tossing the keys to his confined cock.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said, hands finding your ankles again. He didn’t halt their movements this time. Now he encouraged them to move, slowly beginning to rock his hips up into the soles of your feet.

With that admission, you realized you weren’t just projecting your own desires when you’d catch him staring at you through the kitchen window while you played with Olly out front; when he’d put his hands on your waist as he passed by you in the trailer’s cramped hallway; when he’d lick his lips and watch your own as you talked to him about some minor detail from your day.

Eddie wanted you, too.

And with how fucking hard he was, you realized he wanted you bad.

Your head lolled to one side as you observed him. “I wanna watch you use me ‘till you’re about to come.” The TV wasn’t too far away, and with the relatively bright scene on the screen at the moment, you could tell he was hanging off of your every word. You could feel him tightening his grip around the width of your feet, pulling them down harder against him. “If you’re a good boy and stop before you get all messy, then maybe I’ll let you make me feel good, too.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed in equal parts desire and disbelief at your words, his parted lips forming the shape of an ‘O’. It was all he could do to nod wordlessly, feeling dumb in the best kind of way, his eyes not wavering from yours once as he got to work.

[the--highlanders]

what do you think jamie does after he's sent back to scotland without his memories?

i think he's always been torn between loving his home, the house he grew up in and the river he played in as a child and the hills he knows like the back of his hand, and yet still deeply longing to leave his little world behind, because he never quite fit right. (and he did! he got out!) but then suddenly he's right back there. he goes back to his childhood home but it's not home anymore and he doesn't know why.

so would he stay and try to fit again, even though he's grown out of his place there? or would he leave, and go looking for whatever had changed him?

YESSS I am so 100% on board with everything you said here. jamie really feels to me like he's someone who's so deeply rooted in his place and his culture, and yet someone who's been battling off this sense of isolation his whole life, and it's all tangled up and complicated inside him. in part he knows his home like the back of his hand /because/ he was somewhat isolated and spent a bunch of time wandering around on his own, and connects to his culture so much because he was chasing a sense of belonging. and on the other hand he had friends and was probably well-liked! but the isolation is still there. maybe even worse for the fact that he wasn't entirely alone.

I do think the crucial point to what jamie does when he's back in scotland is. why exactly he stepped on board the tardis in the first place. which is something I still don't feel like I've fully been able to express even after literal years of trying, maybe because it works best as an impulse borne of him having a deeply traumatic turned deeply strange day. I hc that while jamie's father, brother, and best friend have now died, his mother is still alive and at home, along with other relatives and much of the rest of his community. he /has somewhere to go back to/. he chooses not to go to france and to try his luck with making it home instead, and then all of a sudden he's stepping onto the tardis. sure, he's somewhat confused, and certainly doesn't know what's happening or that he won't be able to get back - but he does still go with them. in that moment, some part of him wanted /out/. going with people he knew to france didn't tempt him, but running off with basically total strangers did. he wanted an entirely fresh start, a blank slate.

on the flip side, the jamie who gets sent back after the war games is /different/, even subconsciously. somewhere buried in there is a person who's more mature, has had three more years of experience, has dealt with so much more and stepped up in ways he probably couldn't have dreamt of when he first left scotland. he's dropped back on drumossie moor, apparently in daylight, presumably with something implanted in his head telling him that the doctor and ben and polly left, he waved them off and turned towards home. so I think that's what he'd do - he'd go home, and try to pick up the pieces as best he could.

at this point, and as he realises more and more that something's /not right/ and he's missing something, I think his sense of isolation is worse than ever. he's so, so close to snapping. but his whole world is holding on by a thread, now - his own family has been decimated, many others are in the same position, they're close enough to culloden and inverness to be subject to a few reprisals and raids from the government - and oddly enough I think that holds him together. he steps up, because somewhere deep inside he knows how to do that now. he's grown up. maybe everyone else just puts it down to the war. it's not like they know any better. and if we know anything about jamie, it's that he can hold himself together if someone else needs him. is it good for him? certainly not. but he's hanging in there.

in my timeline for things he does settle down somewhat once he starts to regain his memories and understand what's happened to him. it /is/ just another thing that sets him apart, and that always hurts, but he's also more confident and understands more about himself than he did growing up, so it rattles him less. he's probably easy to talk to and go to with problems, and friendly enough that you never really realise he doesn't open up about himself. he grows into a bit of a leadership position in his village, and it's good for him, in a way. he's also his own person, not his father's son, and I think that's a sick sort of relief for him. marrying kirsty also helps, because she's a fellow misfit and a great friend, and someone who he can share the truth with. their 'more children than there are days of the week' are lost and orphaned kids they collect, because he's not going to let anyone else grow up alone. it's a weird sort of limbo where he's waiting for the doctor but also has no certainty that he'll ever see him again, where he's made a life he's proud of with people he loves and yet there's always parts of him that are desperately unhappy - but he's getting by. he's good. he's got good things that get him through.

if he /didn't/ get his memories back, though, if he was just caught in that confusion forever... that's where I could really see him leaving. at some point he /does/ snap, and he just. heads off on his own, looking for something he can't remember. it feels good, to always be on the road, maybe to help people where he can as he passes through. he's not tied to anyone, doesn't have to be who anyone else wants him to be, and there's freedom in that. but he always feels like he /shouldn't/ be alone in this, that he should be wandering with someone.

[momo-rambles]

They Get A Tattoo Of Reader’s Name

Synopsis: Imagine Soap gets a tattoo for reader.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking, Mentions of nudity, Minimal use of Y/N (I think that’s it? Lemme know)

A/N: Hey, guys! I wanted to get this out way earlier than this, but I’ve had so much going on! But here it is regardless! Please enjoy some fluff with our favorite Scotsman! I’d love to hear from you guys! Take care, lovelies!

_________________________________________________

The soft hum of music made its way through the apartment from the speaker perched on the coffee table in front of me.

I had been curled up on the couch reading for the past few hours. Johnny had been invited out for an evening of drinks with his team. He originally wanted to decline, opting to instead spend his time home with me. I, however, urged him to go, citing that it would be good for him to spend time with his team while not simultaneously fighting for their lives. After some reassurance that I would be okay for a few hours, he showered and headed out to meet his colleagues at the pub.

After Johnny left, I made myself dinner and decided that I wanted to spend my night snuggled under my plush blanket while finishing the book I’d currently been reading. Hearing keys hitting the lock drew my attention away from my book and to the clock on the wall.

11:58 PM

The front door opened slowly and quietly, revealing Johnny’s form in the doorway. He looked almost surprised to see me sunken into the couch cushions.

“What are you still doing up, love? You’re usually at least in bed by now.”, Johnny’s voice reached my ears, the Scottish lilt ever prominent.

“I wasn’t really that tired after dinner, so I decided to read a while. The time just got away from me, I guess.”, I explained. I placed my bookmark in my book, closed it and sat it on the coffee table. Johnny’s grin stretched over his face as he removed his coat and shoes, and put them in their respective places. He strode across the living room floor, dropped down beside me on the couch and pulled me to his side.

“Did you have fun tonight?”, I questioned as I nuzzled into his side.

“Of course”, he chuckles, “Lots of laughs and drinks…and dares.”

I looked up at him with wide eyes, knowing that drinks and dares were not the best combination when it came to his friends. I can recall the night I agreed to go out with them, and Gaz dared a drunk Soap to skinny dip in the pond down the small hill across the road. Johnny never being one to shy away from a challenge, didn’t hesitate.

One minute I was standing on the sidewalk outside the pub talking with Ghost and Price. The next, I was watching my boyfriend running down the hill, wearing nothing but his mohawk, before splashing into the water below. I’m sure it was quite the spectacle watching me attempt to wrangle and redress a drunk, soaked Soap.

The dares were never inherently harmful, but there was very little that was off limits. But at this moment, he was suspiciously sober, so it couldn’t have been terrible.

“What?”, he asked with an incredulous smile on his face.

“And what kind of trouble, pray tell, did you get into?”, I asked, smirk easing its way onto my face.

“Why do you assume I was the one dared? How do you know I didn’t get to dare anyone else this time?”, he asked through chuckles. I raised my eyebrows at him. He sighed, smile still present on his face.

“Alright, you got me.”, he pulled me closer to him and wrapped his left arm around me. It was only then that I caught sight of the white bandage on the inside of his forearm. I ran my fingers across the bandage and looked up at him expectantly, meeting his eyes.

“What is this, Johnny? Did you get hurt?”

He shook his head. “No, no. I’m fine. Ghost dared me to get a tattoo. He noticed the new tattoo shop around the corner, and went with it.”

A part of me was relieved that Johnny wasn’t hurt, but a part of me was still a little unnerved at the thought of a dare driven tattoo. Johnny and tattoos together are not an uncommon thing. The SAS crest having already been inked into his right forearm years ago. I could only imagine what Ghost would dare Johnny to tattoo on his arm. As if he read my mind, Johnny chuckled.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing too crazy.”, he states. He moved his right arm from behind me, reached for the bandage and began peeling away at the tape lining the edges.

Once the bandage was removed, I could hardly believe the sight. There, on his left inner forearm, was “Y/N”inked into the skin there in black ink. There was a thin layer of film still lying over the inked area to protect it. I ran my fingers over the plastic, completely at a loss for words. Johnny and I had been together for a little over a year. I have never once doubted his love for me and I’ve made sure he never had to question my feelings for him. But having my name etched into his skin for the rest of eternity was as daunting as it was romantic.

“Ghost was at least nice enough to let me choose what to get.”, Johnny spoke, pulling my gaze away from the ink and back to his face.

“And you chose my name?’, I questioned barely above a whisper. His brows furrowed, small smile still gracing his features.

“Of course.”, he said matter-of-factly. “You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that. I just…I’m a little surprised you chose this over something else.”, I answered. He nodded in understanding, placing his arm back around me and pulling me back to him.

“I’ll admit it was a rushed decision, but once I saw what the tattoo artist had drawn up for me, I knew this was it.”, he explained. “Besides, now I can bring you with me everywhere I go.”

My heart swelled at his words, almost bringing tears to my eyes. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck as he snaked his arms around my waist.

“I love you…so much.”, I whispered into the hug.

“I love you more…”, he whispered back and placed a kiss to my temple. “Now come on, let’s go to bed. It’s after midnight.”

Johnny stood from the couch, pulling me to my feet alongside him. My hand in his, he began pulling me in the direction of our bedroom.

“Alright, but before we do, I need your help.”, I stated as we padded down the hall. Johnny turned on his heels, brows furrowed in questioning.

“Help with what?”, he asked.

“I need you to help me decide where to get your name tattooed at.”, I grinned up at him.

A bright smile formed on Johnny’s face, and he pulled me into his embrace as he spoke.

“Well, we can do that if you want, but it was actually my last name I wanted to give you.”

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36

Eddie’s heart thumps oddly once again, this time because Steve had used his name. He’d already become used to Eds. He ignores it and spreads his hands. “I’m willing to accept whatever you’ll give me,” he says quietly. “I’m still groveling, here, I’m not exactly in a position to be making demands.”

Steve smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie hates it. “That’s the thing, though. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to define it.”

Eddie hums. “We’re slightly to the left of best friends.”

Steve snickers. “That’s pretty spot-on, actually.”

Eddie shrugs and grins, feeling oddly proud of himself for figuring it out and making Steve smile.

They stand in silence for a minute until Alli pops her head out of the kitchen. “Are you two gonna kiss again? Or is now a good time to offer food?”

Steve snorts and pitches forward to rest his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “Al, you’re awful.”

“You love me,” she responds immediately, grinning at Eddie.

Eddie grins back and pokes at Steve’s arm. “She’s offering us food, Stevie, I’m inclined to say yes.”

Steve chuckles before leaning back to smile at Eddie. “Yeah, alright,” he decides, “I could eat.”

Eddie reaches out, links their hands, silently offers Steve an out.

He doesn’t take it, instead grips Eddie’s hand more surely, and something in Eddie’s chest settles.

They walk into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and Steve grins and shakes his head when Alli starts cooing at them. “Yeah, okay,” he says, then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Hey, you should invite Cassidy over soon.”

Eddie looks between the siblings as they have a silent conversation mostly consisting of eyebrows and head tilts that ends with Steve grinning and Alli shaking her head, trying to hide a smile. “So,” Steve says, “what did you make?”

Alli chuckles and hops up backwards onto the counter by the stove. “Mac and cheese.”

“Ooh,” Steve says, instantly intrigued. He lets go of Eddie’s hand to peer into the pot. “With the good cheese?”

“With the good cheese,” Alli agrees.

Steve whirls around to grin at Eddie. “You’re gonna love this,” he says, “Alli makes the best mac and cheese.”

Eddie grins. “I dunno, Stevie, I think my uncle’s boxed mac might have her beat.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head as he gets three bowls out. He tilts his head towards a drawer. “There’s forks in there, can you grab some?”

Eddie does so, and just as they’re finishing serving themselves, someone opens the front door.

“Steve?” A voice calls. “You home?”

Steve sighs and puts his bowl down. “The little shit,” he mutters, moving out into the living room. “Dustin, what are you doing here?”

The answer is too quiet for Eddie to hear, so he eats his food and eyes Steve’s bowl. Alli laughs at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she says seriously, “Steve’s fought me for less.” Eddie gives her his best innocent who, me? look, and she grins at him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble. I like you.”

His grin turns smaller, shyer. “Thank you for not kicking my ass on sight, earlier,” he murmurs.

She grins and nudges his shoulder with her fist. “Steve’s tough. He doesn’t need me to protect him.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, “but it’s still nice to have someone in your corner.”

“Oh,” she murmurs suddenly. “I forgot.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Forgot what?”

“The stories. ‘Bout why you’re here, in Forest Hills, ‘stead of wherever he is.”

She says he in a way that Eddie knows she knows exactly what’s meant by those two little letters. He swallows a lump. “Yeah,” he murmurs back. “‘S why I know.”

She smiles at him. “Your… uncle, right?”

Eddie smiles back. “Yeah. Wayne. He’s… he’s pretty great.”

Alli rests a hip on the counter. “Tell me about him?”

Stomach full of food, safe and warm and happy in this house, with the sound of his maybe-boyfriend scolding his pseudo-younger brother in the other room, Eddie grins and hops up onto the counter. “Gladly.”

Towards the end of his story, Steve comes huffing into the kitchen, making a beeline for the phone. He punches a number in and waits. “Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” he says politely. “Is Robin home?” He listens for a moment, says, “Okay, thank you,” and hangs up, turning to Eddie. “What’s your number?”

Eddie blinks before grinning, and Steve good-naturedly rolls his eyes. “Not like that, you ass,” he chuckles. Eddie relents and rattles off the numbers, and Steve punches those in before waiting again. “Hi, Mr. Munson,” Steve says. Eddie mouths the words and makes a face, and Alli snorts at him. “Is Robin there still?” A pause, then, “Ah,” as his cheeks pinken. “Yes, sir. He did.” Another few seconds later, “Hey. The little shit found Dart.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.” A laugh, then, “well I’m not gonna tell him.” A squawk, “I am not his-” he cuts off abruptly and pulls the phone from his ear to frown at it. “She hung up on me!”

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[theseeingfawn]

Chapter 9: The Hills Have Eyes Part 1

Summary:

Here is a short little smutty tease chapter for you lovely readers.   “Live dangerously and you live right” Goethe

Azriel

I have never wanted to kill someone more. Closing my eyes l force myself to calm down and take a deep breath. My heart rate slows, time suddenly shifting as if I have minutes instead of seconds to think this through. Realistically it's just the adrenaline sharpening my senses. I've always been at my best during a crisis. With Elain Archeron panting underneath me, and my ill tempered brother pounding on the door, this certainly qualifies as one.

There are so many ways this can go wrong but the only thing that matters is protecting Elain. 

I look down and see panic flash in those soft brown eyes. A sick demented part of me is turned on by the spark of fear I see there. I pang of need shoots through.  I;m intrigued to know how buttoned up, perfect sweet Elain would react when caught red handed. 

I stay exactly where I am, opting to relish the fleeting feeling of the press of my body into hers. She's soft and supple beneath me. I know I should move but I just don’t want to. No reasonable man would. 

Rhys’ impatient fist pounds into the door again, “Damnit, Azriel I know you’re in there.”

I fight back a smirk, something about pissing him off pleases me. Maybe it’s some psychological need to get back at his father through him. Maybe I just like being one of the only people who isn't afraid to piss him off. I can’t really be sure.  

I turn back to Elain, “Listen to me, you are going to go out my window and sneak into the sunroom. Got it?” She nods frantically, all the while my hand is still pressed firmly against her mouth. “Good girl.” I whisper and kiss her forehead just because I can. “I’ll take care of Rhys.”

I reluctantly drag myself off Elain and pull her to her feet. I take her soft hand and lead her to the window. I help her out, advising on the best way to descend the drain pipe. But to my surprise she is as sure footed as she is nimble making her way down. She’s just full of surprises.

Turning back to the door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I hardly recognize the man I see there. He looks softer, almost happy. His pants are also fully tented, yeah that's a problem. I close my eyes, picturing the time I caught Cass experimenting with at home waxing which fixes that problem. As it always does and always will. I suppress a shudder.  The pounding at my door resumes and I resign myself to tackling the other problem.

I open the door calmly as if I hadn’t heard Rhys this whole time. He barrels through the door, his eyes searching for someone who is clearly not here. “Where is she?” he demands. I fight back a smirk, “Who?”

I watch as he slowly turns to face me, a look of pure rage that would rival my own as he says, “You. Know. Who.” Each one word syllable punctuated with malice. I furrow my brow in feigned confusion, “I honestly don’t know what you are on about.”

He huffs at me and bites out, “ Elain .”  

“Why would she be in here?” I ask innocently. 

“That’s an interesting question, why don’t you give me some ideas?” He retorts. 

“Because you are imagining things?” I say growing bored of this situation. 

“I know you had her in here. I know the two of you have been sneaking around. The others may buy that you both happen to have secret lovers that coincidentally are not each other, but I don’t.”

I refuse to respond, I just patiently wait for him to keep talking. The quiet unsettles him as he waits for a rebuttal that doesn’t come. 

He sighs, “Damnit Azriel, where is she?”

“I presume she is downstairs, where you last saw her.” He closes his eyes in annoyance. 

“You are to stay away from her, Azriel.” I tense at his order. 

“You can’t tell me to do that.” I snap back at him. 

“I just did and if you were smart you would want to stay away.” He rubs his brow, “Your job is dangerous.”

“You think I would put her in danger?” I ask, unable to help myself. 

“It's the very nature of what you do. You can’t even be honest with her about what you really are. You can’t reveal you're actually a Fed and maintain your cover with the criminal underground.” 

I bristle at his words, “I’ve told you. I don’t hide it from Cass or Mor.” I add feeling the cold bitterness of reality hitting me. 

He gives me a bewildered look, “The three of us have ties to your past, ties to some element of organized crime. But Elain has no connections. You will always have to hide her from what you do and what you do from her. She will ask questions you can’t answer and what happens if the Attors find out about her?”

“I’ll kill them,” I state without hesitation. 

“I know,”  he says sympathetically . “And you doing so will destroy everything you’ve worked for. It will jeopardize your relationship with the FBI and compromise your assets in the field.”

I shake my head, not wanting to hear what he’s saying. Not wanting to hear the truth. 

“So, you’ll stay away from her,” his tone final. I turn to walk out of the room when he adds, “because you were right to worry about Kier.”

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at my brother who collapses to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“What do you mean?” 

He lets out a long breath more rattled than I’ve ever seen him, “I looked closer at his books after our little chat and noticed a few discrepancies. At first I thought it was an accidental transfer to an old account but I started to notice a pattern. Every three weeks he deposits $25,000 in an offshore account.”

I nod. “The account is tied to an old LLC that my father used to own so I didn’t think much of it until a new transfer came in right at three weeks. I did some digging and found an old ledger with Hybern’s name on it.”

I freeze, sensing where this is going. “Kier has been working with Hybern? With the Attors?” 

He nods, “I think so.”

“Send me what you have and I'll do some intel.” I turn to walk away again. 

Before I can leave he adds, “You will stay away from her or I'll make you regret it.”

I freeze in the doorway. I know if I turn around my face will reveal everything I have tried so hard to conceal. He can't know what she means to me. If he did he would be even more alarmed. 

“I'll go to Devlon and tell him about your other activities… the ones you hide from the FBI.” The pang of betrayal hits me deep in the chest. My own brother no less. “If you need to fuck someone, find a biker chick at Amarantha’s or one of your underground hole in the walls. You aren't… ”

Before he can finish the sentence I'm barreling down the stairs and out the front door of the townhouse. I don’t stop to see if Elain made it back to the group. I can’t bear the thought of seeing her right now. 

I walk for what feels like hours before I'm level headed enough to go back to the townhouse. By the time I return everyone is gone. I take a look at the information Rhy left for me, deciding to focus on work as a distraction. 

From the looks of it, Rhys is right. Kier has been working with Hybern. So, I call Devlon to inform him. We come up with a way to fold Kier into the gun smuggling scheme and continue on with our plan. 

By the time the sunsets my mind goes back to Elain. I didn't even get the chance to tell her a proper goodbye. The thought of cutting all contact with no explanation after nearly fucking her in my room doesnt sit right. She deserves better than that. She deserves so much more than I can give her. If Rhys was right about anything, it was that. 

She deserves to hear from me that our little arrangement is over face to face. Even if I'm not allowed to be with her I will still have to be around her and I don't want to make it any harder on her than it needs to be. I resign myself to the conversation I have to have with her. 

I slip into the night and walk the few short blocks it takes to get to Petals. The walk gives me some time to mull over my words so that I can make this as painless as possible. I'm confident she’ll be able to move on. But, if I've learned anything from my years of pining for Mor, it's that once I’ve formed an attachment there is no going back. This is it for me. 

The shop is dark and closed up for the night. The faint smell of baked bread lingers around the front providing a modicum of comfort. I walk around the back and see the faint glow from her second story apartment window. The one I've gotten far too used to sneaking in to. A pang of nostalgia hits me as I realize this will be the last time. 

I pull myself up the lattice and push on the window. It opens easily and I'm able to slip in. The first thing I notice is the smell of sugar and lemons, a freshly baked pie sits on the counter cooling. I look around searching for Elain expecting her to be nearby given the state of the pie but her place is quiet. I call out to her softly, “Elain are you here? We need to talk.”

I hear nothing but the gentle sounds of the end of summer. The hymn of grasshoppers and frogs from the garden below. I debate whether or not she could have slipped out. I wrack my brain trying to think of where she could be. It’s not the right day for the knitting circle and her girls nights are typically here. Maybe she is at the store or with Lucien working on town council bullshit. I sigh, turning back toward the window ready to leave. 

But then I hear her, gently calling my name. “Yes,” I reply as I make my way to the back of her apartment to the only bedroom. Her door is cracked and buttery light spills out on the floor, “Listen, I just -”

My words die on my tongue as my jaw falls open, my eyes taking in the most beautiful sight I've ever witnessed.

A gentle vibration fills the air, and it seems to be coming from the pink object that Elain holds between her lush unblemished thighs spread wide and pressed against her bed. 

And Elain? Is completely naked, her gently curved body is on full display as she writhes from pleasure. Her head is thrown back as she moans desperately. 

“Azriel” she whimpers my name once more. A wave of arousal shoots straight to my cock. The feeling so intense I stumble forward slightly. 

“Holy gods,” I whisper in disbelief. 

Elain's head rolls to the side, eyes hooded, weighed down with lust as she looks around before her gaze finds mine. If she moans my name again I will die on the spot.

But she doesn't, a moment passes and then she screams in horror. That look of panic in her eyes comes back full force and I groan. Her fear only turns me on more. My dick is so hard I feel a bit lightheaded. I let out an uneasy breath because whatever I had planned for tonight is out the window. This, this is so much better. I smirk knowing I think best on my feet. 

Elain

I am frozen to the spot, unable to move. Horrified beyond what I thought possible. Azriel caught me masturbating with a sex toy. My chest is heaving trying to suck in air as my brain reels. Why is he just standing there and oh gods why is he smiling like that? 

“What are you doing here?” I practically shriek knowing full well my voice is two octaves higher than normal. “You can't just sneak into my window like that Azriel! Are you insane?”

His smirk disappears at the sound of my yelling.

I pull the pink sheet snuggly around my body. The vibrator shaking violently in my hand branding me like the harlot I am. I toss it to the side in mortification hoping I can somehow will it to vanish. 

To my horror, it only vibrates louder against the hardwood floor drawing Azriel's full attention to it. His eyes locked on it like it holds the secrets to the universe. 

I clammer off the bed, stepping forward as I snap my fingers in his face. Trying to get him to pay attention to anything else. I can’t watch him gawk at my sex toy any longer. 

I'm going to kill Nuala.

His head turns slowly back to me. “Out! Get out of here! You shouldn't be here... You shouldn’t have kissed me!” I shout at him trying to blame anyone but myself for this situation. 

“You kissed me!” He shouts back at me. His face flush. An uncharacteristic display of emotion form his usually stoic demeanor. He wasn’t expecting me to yell. 

“Impossible!” I say indignantly. How dare he come into my home and accuse me of kissing him. That doesn't sound like something I would do which is exactly what I tell him.

He grits his teeth, “Stop yelling at me.” His flushed cheeks start to fade as his cool mask falls back into place which only makes me more upset. How dare he be calm at a time like this. 

“You saw my vagina!” I screech as the panic escalates. 

“I saw a whole lot more than that sweetheart.” My cheeks burn my palms as I bury my face in my hands, ready to die of embarrassment. 

“Look,” he says in that stupidly calm tone, “I just came here to apologize for earlier when I took certain liberties with you in my room. I got carried away.” 

“Apology accepted,” I say as I grab his impossibly large bicep and try to shove him back toward the window. 

“Okay, but just don't be embarrassed. This is all my fault anyway,” he says guiltily. I nod because this is all his fault.

“Great,” I say as he turns toward the window. I pull the sheet tighter around me, thighs rubbing together spreading my arousal. 

“Wait,” he whispers as he turns around. My heart pounds against my chest as his eyes meet mine. A flash of something dangerous dances amongst the hazel as he takes a step toward me. Then another. My stomach hollows out and I feel my legs start to tremble. “You said my name.”

I gasp, “I did not.” I most assuredly did. Several times. 

“You did.” 

I shake my head, “did not.” Suddenly I feel childish and small in front of his intimidating confidence. 

“ Azriel,” he drags his name out on a moan. A devious smile pulls on those plush lips of his and I slink backward. 

He looks like he is about to devour me whole and I don't think I would put up a fight. I step around the edge of the bed trying to escape in vain.

“You are supposed to be the mature one.” I say defensively. That makes him smile wider. I trip over the edge of my floral comforter and he grabs onto my sheet and pulls me upright. 

His gaze falls back to the pink vibrator that's finally stopped buzzing on the floor. It no doubt lost all of its charge from vigorous use. “Do you need someone to do that for you?” He asks.

“I can do it fine on my own, thanks.” I say with all the grace I can muster at a time like this. 

“Are you sure about that angel Elain. ” He mocks.

How dare he use that nickname. “I kissed you, didn't I?” I say defensively. 

His smile grows wider, “So you admit it? You did kiss me.”

“I,” I wring my hand at my side. “I admit to nothing.”

“That's too bad,” his chin dips down as his eyes take me in. His tongue sweeps tauntingly over his bottom lip. “Do you remember telling me you want to be bad?”

His grip on the sheet tightens as he pushes me backward. “I'm thinking you heard me come through that window,” he smiles down at me smugly pushing me back a little further. “I think you knew I would come.”

He leans in closer, his hot breath caressing my already overheated skin, “You wanted to be caught.” He tuts and presses me firmly into the wall, “You said my name to lure me in here so I would see this perfect fucking body, didn’t you?” He asks, arrogant as ever. 

Before I get the chance to reply, he continues on, “You wanted it before you told yourself you should fight this feeling. You've been a good, proper girl but you don't want to be her anymore, do you?” 

I shudder because he’s right. I assumed he would seek me out. I had waited for hours for him to come. I even baked a pie to try and distract myself. But, I couldn’t wait. The longer it took the more I got worked up. I couldn’t stop thinking about how delicious it was to have him pressed between my thighs. How positively fiendish I felt when he covered my mouth with his rough hand. Even now the thought of him doing it again has me pressing my thighs together. So, yes I may have decided to take care of things myself. I wasn’t sure he would sneak in but I had hoped he would.

His grin is absolutely devious when he adds, “I want to see who you are when you drop the act and let that wickedness out.”

I’m going to ruin you, is what he said in his bedroom, when he pinned me down on the bed. No one has ever done that to me. Other men, Graysen even, treated me like I was made of glass. But not Azriel. I had touched a nerve. He didn’t like that I called him out and challenged him. That I saw him. I didn’t censor myself, I let that truth out and oh how I was rewarded. 

Something inside me snaps, I feel practically feral as I tear the sheet from his fist and throw it to the ground, barring myself to him.

“You want me to help you?”

“Azriel.” I whimper, trembling with need, his rough fingers ghost over mine.

“Yeah,” he groans, “Just like that. That’s exactly how you sounded when you moaned my name.” He runs his palm against my cheek savoring the feel of it. 

I bite my lip and lean my head back before closing my eyes. Waiting for him to devour me. But he doesn’t.

Instead I feel the cold air hit my sensitive nipples as he steps away. The swaggering smile is nothing short of pleased as he watches me. 

“I’d hate to misread this situation, though. So, if I’m right, if you want my help...” He rubs his hand across his sharp jaw. “You’ll have to ask nicely.”

A rough sound escapes my throat in protest, and before I can tell myself no to something I want for the millionth time in my life, I launch myself at him. 

I throw myself at his chest and bury my fingers in his hair. He catches me as I wrap my legs around his waist. “Please,” I beg, “please help me.”

He growls and throws me on the bed. Prowling on top of me like the predator he is. 

His eyes take me in, all of me and I feel my arousal pool in my lower belly. 

He curses under his breath as he traces my lips with his finger. “Open.” He commands and I do, eager to please him.

His textured skin glides across my smooth tongue and I moan. He eases his finger back out and I grab on with my teeth, sucking him in deeper. “Fuck,” he growls. I smirk around his finger and tease it with my tongue. He watches, eyes clouded with lust and awe. 

“Are you going to let me take care of you tonight? Because if you keep doing that I won’t be able to help myself. I’ll take what I need.” 

I release his finger, “Yes.” I want him to take what he needs.

He groans desperately, “Fuck, Elain.” 

I quirk an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head in disbelief, “You are going to be the death of me.” I try to stifle my giggle by biting my lower lip and he growls.

He leans down and pulls my lip free as he sucks into his mouth. His tongue sweeps inside, exploring, tasting, taking. The way he kisses is nothing short of possessive, pure hunger as he worships my mouth. He can have it, and any other part of me he wants. I’ve never needed anything or anyone more than I need him. 

“Tell me what you want Elain,” he pants into my mouth. 

“Touch me,” I beg, shaking with desperation. “Please Azriel I… I…”

He slides his hand down my neck and squeezes lightly, “here?” He teases.

Oh gods . I shudder under his touch. His eyes flit back up to mine and it’s obvious he didn’t expect me to like that . He curses again.

He smiles, his free hand moving down to my belly button, “here?” he asks innocently as he swirls his finger along the edge. Goosebumps spread like wildfire down across my needy skin. 

“Please.” I whimper again so so desperately.

His finger skates down in a feather-like tease to my center,  “Here?”

I moan at the slightest friction. “So. Fucking. Wet.”

He releases my neck, tracing my form with his hand as he glides it down my body. He kneels between my legs, grabbing my thighs as he lifts my legs. Taking my ankles into his large hands and props both of my feet on the bed, spreading me wide. 

“Gods Elain, you are just so beautiful,” he says eyes roaming over every inch of me before the land on my bare sex. “Are you going to let me fuck this pussy one day?”

I feel my core clench at his words and a fresh wave of arousal drips down my folds. A low guttural sound catches in his throat at the sight. 

“Even this pussy is begging so sweetly.”

I can’t help it, my legs start to shake, “Yes,” I gasp as I clench around nothing.

His right hand releases my ankle as he runs his finger tips up the sensitive skin of my leg. I quiver with anticipation, nearly crawling out of my skin. 

“Look at you, so needy for me.” Gods, his confidence would be infuriating if it weren’t so damn sexy. If he wasn’t right. 

His hand finally moves to my inner thigh and presses it down firmly. His thumb grazes close to the edge of my arousal. He takes his time before he finally slides his finger along my clit. My back arching off the bed as I moan loudly. 

He does it again, with more pressure and my knees come together as I shudder. He slaps my clit and I cry out from the sudden pleasure of it. “None of that,” he chides, “I want to see you.” I force my shaking legs apart as he strokes me over and over where I need him most. My legs threaten to close again and he forces my right thigh down. 

I’m desperate for more, I want him on top of me, inside me. I need him everywhere and the teasing is driving me insane. “Please,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound.

His hooded eyes find mine and he shakes his head no. “I’m not done yet.”  

He leans forward and takes my pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucks hard. I cry out, my head pressing back into the mattress as I shove my needy pussy into his hand. He slaps it again and I begin to shake all over. 

“So. Responsive,” he coos as he takes my nipple between his teeth. “Is this why you’re always blushing, sweet girl? You’re always this worked up for me?”

“Yes,” I cry as he skillfully tortures out each little moan from me as he works my breasts and clit at the same time. 

He hums appreciatively, “Not so innocent then? Just a little slut underneath, hmm?”

I gasp at his crudeness at his… at his… oh gods I’m ready to cum. His words send me over the edge. 

But he abruptly pulls back his hand and I groan in frustration. I sit up on my elbows to get a better look at him. Our eyes lock as he brings his hand back between my legs. He notches a finger at my entrance.

“Show me Elain, show me just how bad you are.” I feel the slightest pressure of his finger entering me and I lose it. I grind myself fully down on his finger as if possessed. I rock my hips up and down riding him as I take what I need. 

“God that’s sexy,” he praises me. I feel my pleasure build but it’s not enough. “More,” I demand and he adds another finger. His thick fingers fill me deliciously, adding just the right amount of pressure, like he was made for me. 

My breasts bounce from the force of my movement. His eyes locked on them as he leans forward, licking and sucking at me with desperation. A pang of pleasure shutters through me and I realize I’m so close again. 

My moans coming out as chants as he continues to lavish me with praise. He tells me how wicked I am. How much he loves watching me fuck myself on his hand. That he can’t believe he gets to suck on these perfect tits. I’m so close I cry out his name as he presses his thumb into my clit and I shatter. 

He watches enraptured before he kisses me and I wrap my arms around him and draw him closer. We kiss until the aftershocks of my orgasam pass. Until my lips are swollen from his  gentle nips and teasing licks.

He tenderly pulls the wayward tendrils of hair from my face and buries his face into my neck and inhales deeply. 

Azriel

I’m buried in Elain’s neck and everything is so Godsdamned perfect. Her scent is so intoxicating that I feel half drugged. The sound of her screaming for me is still ringing in my ears like church bells. Her delicate fingers tease the ends of my hair making me tingle all over. For the first time in my life my head is completely quiet.

“Azriel?” I hear her angelic voice calling to me.

I muffled “Hmm?” comes out as I press my face further into her neck. Her soft hair tickles my nose but I don’t care. 

“Don’t you…” I hear her sigh, I force myself away from my favorite part of her.

“Don’t I?” I ask, confused. Her rosy cheeks tell me she is feeling shy again. A filthy thought more like. I know her too well to think she’s just being coy now. 

She points to my cock which is harder than steel and pressing against her like a helpless kitten. Just the thought of her wanting to touch it makes it twitch against my stomach. 

“You want to touch it, baby? Want to make me feel good?” I ask. She gives a nod as she rubs those shapely thighs together. Fuck me .

I lean forward and bury my face between the perkiest tits I’ve ever seen. I kiss my way to each one showing them each a little love. Leaving little marks so neither one feels left out. They are my friends now, it’s the least I could do. 

I feel her leg slide against my cock and groan. There is nothing, and I mean nothing I want more, than to bury myself in her right now but I won’t. 

I need to figure out this situation between us because after tonight there is no way I am giving her up. Fuck Rhys. Fuck the Attors. Fuck the FBI and Hybern and whoever the hell else stands in my way. I need to solve the problem first then get the reward. I need the incentive. Save something for later the rational part of my brain argues.

I also know, based on my recent experience with my hand, that I’ll blow my load in an embarrassingly short amount of time. I nearly did at least four times tonight and I’ve pictured Cass so many times in these kinds of scenarios that it’s starting to have the opposite effect. I shake my head. What the hell am I thinking? 

I grudgingly pull myself away from her chest and hate myself a little more. 

“As much as I would love that, I think we need to talk about what happened earlier.”

She sits up, making no effort to cover myself to my horror and delight.

“Earlier?” She asks with those big gorgeous doe eyes drinking me in like the last thing she wants to do is talk. 

“Yes sweetheart, with Rhys.” Her nose scrunches up and I see the desire slip from her eyes. 

She stands and walks out of the room, her heart shaped ass swaying. I say a silent prayer for strength as I follow after her. 

I watch as she prepares a tea kettle and motions for me to sit at the table. So, she is going to serve me naked. Fucking perfect. 

“What happened with Rhys?” she asks as she takes tea cups and saucers off her open shelving. She has to stand on her tip toes and bend over the counter to get them, a nightmare really. 

“He knows about us.” I say, I'm too distracted to temper my words. 

She turns to me startled, “He does?”

“Yes, though I didn’t confirm it outright. He told me to stay away from you.”

Her eyes flicker with rage for half a second before the emotion is gone. Replaced instead with annoyance. “He is worse than Feyre.”

I snort, “You have that right.”

“So, what now?” 

“Do you want to end this?” I ask gesturing between us. 

She purses her lips, “Of course not, do you?”

I chuckle, “After that?” I say tilting my head back to her bedroom, “I’m just getting started with you.” 

Her back is turned but I see her hand brace the countertop. She slowly looks at me over her shoulder and I know she isn’t done with me either. 

“So, what was his objection?” 

“My job mostly, but I think he doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” I say truthfully. 

She turns to me fully and walks over and sits on my lap, “You are good Azriel, anyone would be lucky to have you. I’m just glad it gets to be me.”

My cold heart melts with her sweet words. “No one deserves you Elain, no one.”

She tries to object but I silence her with a kiss. I keep my hands on her face because if they touch her anywhere else I won't be able to stop. 

I pull away and rest my forehead against hers. “He is right about my job. It’s dangerous and as much as I wish it weren’t the case, you being connected with me puts you in danger. I can’t have that. Do you understand?”

She nods. “Good, we will just need to be more careful moving forward. Avoid any tempting situations.” I look down at where her still wet pussy is pressed against my cock. The wily little minx is smiling at me when I look back up. 

“No, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She teases as she gets up. Mother save me .

I clear my throat, “You’re not going to ask about my job?” I ask, curious that she hasn’t brought it up. 

“No, you’ve told me you can’t talk about it and I trust you.” She says as if it’s that simple. Gods how I wish it were. 

“I need to figure some things out but I hope that in time I can share more with you. Believe me when I say I wish I could.”

Elain saunters over with the serving tray with our tea and two slices of lemon pie. She serves me still completely bare and I wonder for the hundredth time tonight how on earth I got so lucky. 

“I believe you,” she says softly. “I trust you and we agreed this was our secret from the beginning. Besides, I wouldn’t worry too much about Rhys.”

I smirk at my clever, wonderful Elain, “Why is that?”

“In a few short months he is going to have his hands full.”

[phoniexrose02]

I wanna show you off 😜

Robby Keene x Black! Reader

Moskowitz!Reader

Fluff~

Your Relationship with Robby Right now was a Bit...

Taboo

When you an your Brother Joined Miyagi Do it was almost Smooth Sailing, Eli was Getting Grilled pretty Hard For his Behavior, While Miguel an Demetri Greeted you from 'The Dark side' as they would Put it. But there was still one Loose strand.

Robby.

Not only Robby. But his Relationship with you, You Made no Attempt to Hide it What'so Ever.

Every Party, Event DamnNear everywhere you Went to Were Tongue Fuckin' in some Dark Corner.

"What if They See Baby?"

"I Hope They Catch Us~"

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Eli Of all Was pretty Distort.

"Y/n That Fuck Chopped off My Hawk and Your still Locking Lips!?"

"Eli you Broke Demetri's Arm...I'm pretty Sure Hospital Bill Beats a 15 Dollar Box of Hair Dye!"

It Caused Issues. But you Two Made no Attempt what so Ever to hide your undying love, Robby Made Sure to Touch you as much as possible to piss Eli off Further.

"Tell Keene to Watch His Hands..."

"Please Stop Trying to Police My Husband Eli..."

ರ⁠_⁠ರ

When Prom Came around Robby Mysteriously Had Cash to Blow on you, You tried your Hardest to Be generous with His Money But the Dresses he Picked Were Both Beautiful...and Expensive.

"Come on Baby, I wanna Show you Off~"

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

When you showed to Prom in your Dress, Robby couldn't stop the Heat from Coming to his Cheeks."You look Gorgeous Baby~" He wasn't the Only one Mesmerized, Everyone was Gawking at you like a Goddess.

"Hey I'mma Go Check on my Brother, He's Kinda Here alone-"

"I'll just Chill With the Cobra's" he said Quietly Reassuring you that he's Good.

"Right, Your Cobra's~" He gave her a Humourous Smile before Kissing your Cheek and Letting you Go.

(⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

"You Look Beautiful Tonight, Ma said You went Shopping Earlier"

Your Brother Stared off into the Party, you could Feel How Uncomfortable He was with his Own Presence. What you'd Failed to Tell Him was How Hard you cut into Robby for the Little Hawk Incident, you Didn't like seeing anyone Beat down your brothers Confidence Even if he deserved it.

"Is he Treating you Well??" He averted his gaze from Whatever he was Looking at too Robby, Tory and Kyler an his Asshat Minions."Of course, Did Mom Tell you he Bought the dress?" He Shook his Head Returning his Gaze into the Deep Crowd of People, you Finally Gave up on Cheering the Young man Up an Instead Followed his Eyes too...Moon. "Eli...go Talk to her, Don't Stare" As he Stood you could Hear a Bit of Commotion an Saw your Boyfriend fuming at Whatever Kyler had Said.

"Chill man Think of it as Friendly Advice"

"I don't think Calling my Girlfriend 'Miyagi Ho' Isn't Very Good Advice"

You sighed rolling your Eyes as you walked over."Miyagi Ho Kyler? Really? Ya know before you used to hurt my Feelings, But That was Just Sad" Your Boyfriends Face Eased From his Anger as you Wrapped your Arms around his Waist."Now Shoo~ Before i Get Miguel to Whoop your ass again" He groans Before Calling his Buddies along with him.

"My Hero~"

"Oh Ha ha Keene, Wanna Ditch this Place an Party at my House?" His Brows Pinch an a mischievous Smirk Comes to his Face." We ain't Doing Much Partying If your Parents aren't Home"

"Mom Took Pictures Before Taking Night Shift, an a Rolled a Blunt Before I Left~" He Smirked Before Taking your Hand and Leading you Out, Your Were Stunned when he Led to a Very Expensive Car."Robby Seriously, Where's all this Money Coming From??"

"ill Tell you...After i Fuck you in it~" You Felt you Cheeks Warm as he Opened the Door For you, You Hope in and Share a Passionate Kiss Before Riding off to your Own Secluded Party~

(⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)

More Cobra Kai

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Day 4 - Fall Activities

Eli laughed as he tore apart a piece of garlic bread. “So you went to the Jungle to look for Uncle Jackson and ended up surrounded by drag queens?”

“Yep. They kind of adopted me.” Stiles sighed, jerking his shoulders. “They are a great group of people. That is also the night I tried to tell your grandfather that I was questioning my sexuality but he did not believe me.”

Eli smirked. “Bet he believed you when you married Da.”

“That he did.” Stiles hummed, looking around the small restaurant. They were the only people there and it looked like the staff was trying to close up. “Let's go for a walk.”

Eli nodded, gazing around the table. He had not realized how late it had gotten. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t you get me home?”

He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Do you have a curfew I don’t know about?”

“No, Da believes that I’m old enough to make my own decisions about how late I stay out. But I don’t like making him worry.” Eli smiled at him.

Stiles nodded. “We’ll give him a call. I want to spend a little longer with you.” he ran a hand over his face as he guided his son from the restaurant. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Eli thought for a moment. He had always had a completely open relationship with his fathers. “Well, I’m a gender nonconformist and I’m asexual. I signed up to compete in the drag competition at this year's harvest festival.”

Stiles chuckled softly. “That sounds like a lot of fun.“ He let out a long breath as they walked down the street. “Not that I’m not 100% supportive, but what does gender nonconformist mean?”

Eli laughed loudly. “Just that I don’t prescribe to societal norms on what a person of a gender should act. I like wearing dresses as much as I like jeans. I like cooking and playing rugby. I hate lacrosse, by the way.”

“Oh, hell, I‘ve know that since you were four and wanted a tinkerbell costume for Halloween.” Stiles laughed. He frowned at his son, shaking his head. “Where did I go wrong? Hating lacrosse should be a mortal sin.”

“I’m no good at it, papa.” Eli groaned. “Unless I use my werewolf strengths, which seems unfair.”

“I’m kidding, Eli.” Stiles smiled. “I wasn’t very good at the sport either. It took being bitten for your uncle Scott to gain any skill at the sport.”

Eli nodded, letting out a long sigh. “I’ve missed you, papa. I’m glad you are moving back to Beacon Hills even if you aren’t reconnecting with Da.”

Stiles sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I can ever fully forgive your father for what happened, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m punishing you for his actions.” He scratched at his beard. “Eli, I’m not angry that your father sacrificed himself for you. I would have done the exact same thing.” He stopped to look into his son’s eyes. “I’m upset because he put himself in that position in the first place, neglected to call me and then gave you to Scott instead of leaving you with your family.” He let out a breath. “He essentially took you away from me. I know it’s been 3 years but it feels like yesterday.”

Eli pulled his father into a hug, letting out a breath. “Why did you never talk to me? You just left.”

Stiles chuckled through a fresh batch of tears. “I did not want to put you in the middle of me and your father. And I figured if your father could discard me so easily, I shouldn’t be here. So, I left.”

Eli shook his head. He really did not want to argue with Stiles. Their night was going so well. “But I needed you here. Do you know how much therapy I needed after the nogitsune? Add losing both of my parents to that. Da died, and you abandoned me.”

Stiles sat in the snow, looking up at his son. “I can never express how I am sorry for my part in all of that crap. I never wanted to live in this town, Eli. I begged your father to come to DC with me and he refused. But I still should not have left you. That is all on me.” He chewed his lip and sighed. “I’d understand if you never forgive me.”

Eli sat next to him, looking up at the stars. “I understand that Beacon Hills sucks, but life is shitty everywhere, papa. Uncle Liam went all the way to Japan with Hikari, and they were still attacked by Mr. Harris.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, I still can’t believe that asshole is still alive.” He threw an arm over Eli’s shoulder. “How did you get so wise?”

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer, mostly. You know Uncle Peter is obsessed with the show?” Eli laughed. “But in all honesty, lots of therapy.” He sighed, thinking. “I wanted to hate you for leaving but you never failed to come back anytime I called. It honestly never made sense; you were traveling back and forth.”

“It didn’t need to make sense, Eli. The only thing that ever mattered to me was your safety and happiness.” Stiles sighed. “I’d do anything for you.” He thought for a moment and then pulled a single key from his pocket. “This is yours.”

Eli frowned, taking the key. “What is this for? Grandpa already gave me the jeep.”

Stiles laughed. “Because we got tired of you stealing it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I bought a small apartment grouping. There are only three units and this key is for yours.”

Eli, shook his head. “Why?”

“Several reasons.” He smiled. “You’re an adult now. You are graduating in half a year and you’ll be going to college. So you’ll be wanting your own space. These apartments will be under your name, so it’s a good investment.”

“What if I don’t want to invest in apartments?” Eli frowned.

Stiles smirked. “Then the ownership reverts back to me, and I’ll just put the money in your trust fund.” He pushed the hair from Eli’s face. “You’re an adult now, and honestly much more responsible than I ever was. I trust you can make your own choices here but for now, you have a place you can escape to.”

Eli hugged him tight. “Thank you, papa.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles smiled into his shoulder.

🐺

Eli walked into his house and smiled at Derek who was sitting at the fire reading a book. “Hey, Da. What are still doing up.”

Derek looked up from his book. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m kind of itching in my own skin.” He stood up, looking over Eli. “Why are you wet?”

“Papa and I kind of laid in the snow.” He shrugged , holding up the key. “Did you know he bought me an apartment?”

“Yeah, he told me.” Derek chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That's why he was so upset with Peter.”

“What did uncle Peter do this time?” Eli frowned.

Derek chuckled. “Your uncle decided to make sure that all the properties that Stiles looked at were his. Then sold it to him way below market value.” His ears turned pink as he shook his head. “So stiles bought the property with family money, making it look like money laundering.”

Eli started laughing loudly. “When will those two stop fucking with each other?”

“Watch your mouth.” Derek frowned. “And probably never. They enjoy the back and forth too much.” He patted his son on the shoulder. “Get in dry clothes and go to bed. I’ll lock up the house.”

Eli nodded heading up the stairs.

🐺

Lydia stepped into the Washington DC apartment with Stiles. “Wow.” She sighed. “There is nothing here, Stiles. It’s so impersonal.”

Stiles shrugged, placing his few boxes on the table. “I never really saw the point. I went to work and came home. Occasionally I went to visit Isaac in Paris or I went home to visit Eli. All my important possessions are with my dad or Eli.”

Lydia nodded as she began packing dishes. “How bad is it, Stiles?”

“Hmmm?” Stiles frowned as he dug suits out of his small closet. “How bad is what?”

“You’re sick Stiles. I’m not sure how yet, but I can feel it.” Lydia sighed. She had been wanting to ask Stiles about it all week but they had not really been in a good place yet.

Stiles groaned, shaking his head. “It’s nothing a little fresh air can’t fix. I just… all the fighting took a lot out of me. The doctors say I have extreme PTSD. It affected my ability to judge how much alcohol I intook and that affected the health of my liver.”

Lydia sighed, shaking her head. “Dammit, Stiles. You should have come home sooner.” She chewed her lip. “And how long have you been sober?”

Stiles laughed. “Two months. I’m going to be alright.” He pulled a chip from his pocket and tossed it to Lydia. “ I was really good at hiding it. I’ve always been good at hiding things.”

Lydia nodded, looking over the sobriety chip. “Do you have a sponsor back home?”

“Not yet but I’ll find a group.” Stiles shrugged.

“Do Eli and Derek know?” Lydia asked, tilting her head as she handed the chip back to Stiles.

“No, and I really don’t want them to.” He sighed, turning back toward the closet. “My dad knows and they have me on all sorts of medications to deal with the PTSD and depression.”

Lydia laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have to at least tell Eli, Stiles. He deserves to know.”

Stiles shook his head. “What good will it do? He shouldn’t have to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you.” Lydia sighed. “At least you’re coming home.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she got back to work. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Anytime, Lydia.” He sighed and dug through the closet. He really did not have much but it felt cathartic to pack up this era of his life.

🐺

Peter walked into the house and smiled as he watched Eli. “You should be at the auto shop.”

Eli shrugged. “Malia and I switched shifts. I’m supposed to meet papa at the new apartment in an hour.” He leaned against the counter, pursing his lips. “Why did you help papa get the complex anyway?”

Peter shrugged, sitting at the island. “As I told him, I want to take care of my family. Stiles is not doing too well right now and he needs to be back here with us.” He watched his nephew make a sandwich. “He needs his family and he can’t get that in the capital.”

Eli nodded, looking at the food in front of him. “Why sell him the property so cheaply instead of giving it to him? You’ll get eaten by the taxes.”

Peter smirked. “I know him very well. He would not have taken it. Your father is a proud man, and I have no shame.” He chuckled.

Eli rolled his eyes in typical Hale fashion. “I’m just so confused. Why now and not three years ago?”

“You’ll have to ask Stiles about that. That is not my story to tell.” Peter cleared his throat and lit a cigarette.

“I never get a straight from any of you.” He grumbled as he finished his sandwich. “You always seem to know everything about everyone. How do you manage it?”

“Ah, dear nephew, that is the question. Isn’t it?” Peter chuckled. “That was my job in Talia’s pack, and it has become second nature to me. Keeping secrets is my greatest talent. One day you’ll find a second and that will be his job, keeping your secrets.”

“Papa’s right.” Eli frowned. “You treat our family like the mafia.”

Peter smirked. “A pack is remarkably similar. We hide in the shadows, keep the area safe, make deals with neighboring families, and kill only if we really need to. I may have taken that last point to extreme, once upon a time.”

Eli, chuckled. “That is an understatement. You tried to kill Kate, uncle Chris, and a shit load of other hunters.”

“Yes, well, they set my family on fire. I was out of my mind.” Peter raised a brow at him. “Did your fathers ever tell you how they stopped me?”

“Yeah, malitolve cocktail and they ripped your throat out.” Eli nodded, taking a bite from his sandwich. “You were dead like what, two weeks?”

Peter bobbed his head side to side. “About. And Stiles has not stopped calling me Zombie Wolf since.” He smiled. “And since he threw that cocktail at me, he has not stopped fighting.” He put the cigarette out. “Give Stiles a bit of slack. He’ll let you know that part of himself eventually.”

Eli nodded, raising his brow. “Is that why you’re here?”

Peter nodded. “I’m sure your father has mentioned once or twice that I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.” He chuckled. “Honestly, how does everyone put up with me.”

“I have no idea.” Eli snarked.

[hotchfiles]

heaven is here.

pairing: stiles x fem!reader.

summary: sometimes getting terribly drunk at the christmas' party of people you don't actually know is actually a good thing.

content warnings: JUST FLUFF. I SWEAR. and a few mentions of throwing up, nothing graphic though. alcohol consumption.

word count: 1,2k

      Being curled up on the floor as your arms hugged Lydia’s toilet was definitely not your idea of what the perfect Christmas would be like. Then again, being at her house at all wasn't really part of your plans until two days ago when mother let you know she wouldn't be able to visit you in Virginia like she had promised to do.

      For reasons unknown to you, Stiles seemed to feel terrible about the possibility of you spending Christmas alone, always caring for his friends apparently, he convinced you to go to Beacon Hills for the holiday, meet the rest of his friends (who he honestly talked so much about you felt like you already knew each one of them).

      You thought it was a bad idea from the start, it was already hard enough to hide your gigantic crush on him while you both were studying, this was a whole higher level of acting you would have to do.

      So you began drinking the second your feet were inside the ginger's family home.

      That was not the brightest of ideas either, and now Stiles who was the only one you truly knew there had to keep you company, holding your hair while you threw up in front of him.

      You tried to deny his help when you ran to the bathroom but after tripping and being prevented to fall face to the floor by him, you had no much say in the matter.

      Was this the most embarrassed you've ever been in your whole entire life? Probably.

      Did you feel terrible because Stiles was wasting his time on you instead of being with his friends and the one and only Lydia? Definitely so.

      Were you sure he was never going to speak to you again as soon as the two of you got back to Quantico? Pretty much.

      Still, a tiny little part of you felt happy, his fingers passing through your hair to keep it from your face, his hand going up and down your back not only to soothe you but to help in case there anything more waiting to come out of your stomach.

      "Hey Mischief," you started, grinning even though you weren't looking at him, you had gotten the habit of calling him that after he told you it was the only way he knew how to say his birth name when he was little, "I'm fine, you can go back to the party. You're kinda losing precious Lydia time staying here."

      "Yeah Trouble, I'm gonna leave you here choking on your own vomit alone, that seems super reasonable." He rolled his eyes, not giving your request an ounce of thought, "Besides, i don't think Lyds gonna be mad about it."

      You fell silent, you didn't actually want him to leave so you decided not to argue too hard on it.

      Stiles took the silence as the response it was and let go of your hair, taking time to put every stubborn strand behind your ears, getting closer to you as he did so, "Wait still for a second, 'k?" You hummed in agreement and felt him getting up in a jump and whined when you felt the cold hit your back.

      Truly he didn't take long to find what he wanted: A cloth he used the bathroom skin to wet, and a scrunchie he could tie your hair with.

      He went back to his spot on the floor, sat behind you and tied your hair firmly enough it wouldn't go back to your face, but loosely enough it wouldn't hurt, and then started softly patting the wet cloth on your neck and on your cheeks, taking away the sweat droplets and giving you some feeling of freshness.

      You felt your heart drop, how were you going to move on from your crush on him when he did that type of stuff? He made it too easy to fall for him and way to difficult to let him go, especially when he turns you around to look at him and cleans your forehead and then your mouth, so softly, so caring. It made your eyes water and you looked back down trying to hide it.

      The sniffs gave you away though.

      "Don't cry about it, I didn't even send the pictures to rest of our class yet, cry then," Stiles says in the most casual tone, sure you were crying because you were embarrassed only, but when you didn't reply with a snarky come back or a threat to murder him for said pictures, he got truly worried, holding your chin with his fingers and lifting your face to look at him again. "What's wrong?"

      "You're too sweet." You feel the sobs you were trying to hold in escaping you, your hands instinctively went to your mouth, trying to muffle them. He gave you the most confused look and asked if that was a bad thing, to which you nodded. You were too drunk for this, your self control failing you in a blink of an eye, ruining what you've been working for months. "You're too sweet. And you're in love. And I can't get over you when you're like that."

      He dropped the cloth on the floor beside him and crossed his arms, looking at you intensely, "I'll bite... Who am I in love with?" You had to interrupt yourself before even trying to answer, the crying and the question making your stomach twirl and forcing you to hurl for another minute or so.

      "Lydia of course," you whispered without looking at him, taking the cloth from the floor and cleaning your mouth again, this time yourself. "I'm like dying here and you're making me say it, I could kill you right now."

      You hear him chuckle, his head shaking at how hilarious you apparently sounded, "Good thing is I'm getting top of the class because you're such an idiot."

      "No you're not, not with that mess you call your notes." You reply as if that was the actual topic in discussion, too competitive to let that go easily, "Also, what?"

      "Oh my god, woman, I brought you to my literal hometown, I'm sat here with you and this place honestly smells terrible, what more should I do?" He was exasperated, his arms flailing around as he spoke and you honestly weren't even sure if he was implying what you thought he was, he was being nice only, right? He always talked about his friends and how he and Lydia were almost an item when he left for Quantico.

      "How are those any sign of anything at all!?"

      "Yeah I just go around asking anyone to come here with me, are you that oblivious!?"

      "That's not how normal people flirt, are you insane!?"

      You both stopped arguing as the actual situation you were both in started to really set in, uncontrollable laughter following the the little spat.

      You both liked each other and were both terrible at doing anything about it that actually made sense. Stiles put both his hands on your cheeks and you let go of the weight of your head, laying into one of them.

      "I would kiss you but… You know, vomit and stuff." You laugh at his mocking tone, making a face at him, and he definitely does not kiss you, but you can feel his lips on your forehead and his arms around you in the safest of embraces, and at least until you brushed your teeth, that was enough.