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hazelfoureyes · 3 months

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The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (epilogue)

Mom gets fitted for dentures next week 🎊 🎉 🦷 💝

Epilogue (Promises)

You had meant it when you said it so long ago. A promise. One you intended to keep

「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x Fem Reader, Valentino x Fem reader (just TRUST ME), nipple chain, Val exists too much, Kaiju cock, pussy wet??, aphrodisiac, Alastor shade, fanatic sinners, misleading porno covers, Angel Dust is perfect as always, blood, stabbing, filming sexy things, Val in a thong, licking, hair pulling, why bad man have big dick, Alastor isn’t horny but he is possessive, pussy in the ether」

Part 1 smut 💦 Part 2 smut 💦 Side Story Part 3 smut 💦 Part 4 smut💦 Epilogue sexual

***Spoiler for people that need Val warnings*** Val dick touches reader pussy. Val explicit scenes are purple. if you skip the purple parts you will still understand the story and still be in the scene, interacting with him. Reminder, reader is there intentionally and consenting.

minors omg look over there! (🏃‍♀️💨Dni)

“I will admit, I was surprised to get your message.” Val exhaled, one hip out as he rest his weight on his right foot. You hadn’t planned on seeing him again, but as you became comfortable in hell you found yourself remembering the promise to yourself. One you made that day you met Alastor. On the floor of that studio. Your eyes scanned the room. The space was different, the set no longer your cursed cabin scene. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath, you’d practiced this, “Well I’ve been in hell for a while now… and I see you everywhere. I’ve been thinking,” your eyes caught on the door you were confident led to the room that held you. To the bed. Another shaky exhale, you never were much of an actress. “I really missed my chance with you. A powerful overlord… a celebrity.”

A dark chuckle from the moth, his ego fluttering, “Ooh, you’re a little celebrity in your own right. My best seller in ages.”

Oh, right. The tape. You hadn’t watched it yet. Alastor set the VHS copy on the bookshelf, an agreement made you could revisit that memory together if you ever wanted to. Not that you hadn’t heard it before. Nearly two years after its release and still people played it in public. Your first visit to Rosie started with you red faced and sputtering, having had someone on the way there thrust a DVD in front of you.

The stranger asked for an autograph, but as soon as you saw the cover photo the entire thing had been knocked into the street by Alastor’s microphone. He had been trying to shelter you from interacting too much with the movie.

“Was that—is the cover—?” You were frozen as the sinner ran off, mind trying to process the image.

Alastor hummed, “Not what I’d choose, but I signed away all rights when I made the deal. A little misleading of a photo if you ask me.” He watched with glee as a car pulverized the disc and case.

A blood red demonic seal splattered with a white liquid and a slender hand scraping into the wood.

“But that’s the Vees for you!”

Indeed, that was the Vees. Val gestured at you with his cigarette and its dramatic holder, “Aren’t you still with the radio demon? Not that I care.” He took a few steps towards you, getting you into arm’s reach before grabbing you by the back of the head and pulling you into him, “Just cuz there's a goalie doesn’t mean I can’t score.”

With how your head was angled back as he had your hair tightly wound in his fist you could see the TV. Always Vox News, you assumed. The time was displayed in the corner. “I am but— he doesn’t, ya know… he doesn’t know I’m here. But he’ll be looking for me soon.”

He stared down at you, pupil-less eyes without emotion. Your scalp began to burn and after a few seconds you had to shift your weight to relieve some of the pull. It made your upper stomach rub against his crotch. Not at all your intention. But you knew you’d have to touch him eventually.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t do shit at anyone else’s speed.” His hand released your hair, “Could be fun though…,” Valentino traced along your jaw with his tongue before squeezing your cheeks in his hand, “fucking Alastor’s woman.”

He was off you as quickly as he had pounced, makeshift jacket swirling behind him as he spun around and walked to the door you’d seen before.

Another glance at the television. You had 10 minutes before Alastor would be calling. A small panic that you didn’t have enough time.

Alastor rarely called on you, because rarely were you very far away. He didn’t have you on a leash, you just enjoyed his company. You’d scroll on your phone while he worked in his radio station or read a book while he enjoyed his breakfast in the morning.

Also, well, going out alone could be intimidating. People swung from two extremes when they saw you— excited fan or terrified sinner.

The fans knew you were with Alastor.

The other sinners knew you were with Alastor.

The DVD incident had spooked you, not helped by the fact it had been your first outing. Alastor had been eager, even if he didn’t say it, to introduce you to the cannibal overlord.

Having you back in his presence brought a deep seated sense of calm to him, one best compared to the feeling he had when gossiping with Rosie over coffee. Naturally he wanted his closest friend to meet the soul who’d stolen his attention. And Rosie was delighted to meet you, evident with the extravagant tea (and a singular coffee) she set up and her litany of questions.

But every time she asked something she also seemed to answer it herself.

“Are you happy to be together again in your body?! I’m sure you are.” She offered you a finger you had to decline.

“I bet you two have been busy.” A wink, “Though you must have been for it to take so long to get down here.”

Alastor shrunk a little as she smacked at his shoulder. You hadn’t seen him allow others to touch him before. Had that been Angel, the second one of his many arms cocked back Alastor would have stepped away or disappeared. Just a hit and you could see how close they were.

You made a point of befriending her, coming often after that initial meeting to her shop for gossip and advice. As time went on, you began to learn about Alastor’s normal. It was nice to have a mutual friend to discuss your worries and ideas with.

“And oh! That video. Talk about hot under the collar!”, a petite laugh, “Did you see it?” Rosie waited for you to answer this time. When you shook your head no, she waved her hand, “For the best. The climax was totally unwatchable!”

You turned to Alastor, not sure what that meant, but he didn’t meet your gaze and instead slowly blinked out of sync at the bookshelves behind Rosie’s shoulder.

“Did you know he’s not into all that?” She took a sip, “You better be patient with him ya got it?”

That question caught you off guard. Apparently for him too, Alastor coming back to life at the change of tone, “This isn’t really a tea topic, dear friend.”

Rosie hummed, “Where are my manners! I was just so relieved he didn’t up and leave for another seven years.”

What’s a scowl shared between friends?

But shared between whatever you and Val were…?

Valentino’s wings unfurled revealing long fishnet covered legs. You watched as he swayed his hips side to side on his way to the bed. The same bed as before. You remembered the shape and purple comforter that you could see down your blindfold.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to already be undressed.” Where were his pants and button up? This was moving faster than you’d anticipated.

He turned back to you as he plopped down onto the bed, “What I wear isn’t any of your business. Though, speaking of business.” He pointed to the corner, a part of the room you’d never seen before. A camera on a tripod stood there. “Turn it on.”

Your grimace was immediate. “You sure you wanna film this one?”

Impatient, he crossed his legs and leaned back on two hands, “Did you think you could just come in here, ask to fuck me and … what? It’d be all on your terms?”

Yes.

You’d worn a dress expressly for ease, and slipped off your panties before going to the camera. For some reason you didn’t want that recorded. It seemed embarrassing. More so than what you were about to do.

Val’s turn to gawk, “You’re seriously not planning on staying dressed.”

“What I wear isn’t any of your business.” You opened the view screen and hit record.

His laugh was dark and deep, “Ooh, I forgot how feisty you were. Maybe this can be a recurring thing.”

Ignoring the comment, you tried to take in the details of the room, checking the walls and small bits of furniture. But you were immensely distracted by the moth demon, who had taken to spreading his legs open and running a hand down his barely contained bulge. Tiny, little, itty black thong, fishnets, nipple chain and… well, the hat.

Two arms pulled you by the waist, hands gripping the flesh of your ass through the dress.

“Why are you dressed like you’re off to teach Sunday school?” His hands slipped under the fabric and dug into your bare skin. He glanced at the camera and its small monitor to make sure he was in frame.

Your knees were brought to either side of his legs before he began to open his stance wider and wider. The action lowered your center more and more until your naked heat was resting on his package. Things were speeding up, he was moving you around so effortlessly. A problem, an absolute problem.

“Ya know I haven’t had a believable good girl to break in awhile.” His hips rose of the bed suddenly and made you bounce on his growing erection. Val groaned, a sound that made your skin crawl.

In the reflection of his glasses you saw the white face of a marble clock on the wall behind you.

“Could we—- can we do this lying down? Missionary? It’s been awhile and I’m feeling insecure.” The thought of the overpowering demon towering on top of you and pinning you down was… a tad terrifying. But you needed to see the clock, you couldn’t keep turning around.

A brief thought, maybe just turning around on his lap and staying facing away from him would work, but then you remembered the camera. Didn’t need your now-rising dress to give the Vees anything exploitative to keep.

Not that everyone in all nine rings hadn’t already seen you spread open and screaming on camera.

“Actually maybe it’s okay, I can,” turn around? Your suggestion was cut short.

Val lifted you like a toy and flipped around. Your head hit the bed hard, brain jostling in your skull. One hand instinctively came to his chest to keep some distance. “No, I like this better.” A wide grin as he settled between your legs.

You leaned to the right to see the clock past his shoulder. Five minutes.

Why didn’t you wear a watch? Fuck.

He dropped his lower half onto you until his full weight was pressing his half hard cock into your stomach. Your breath tightened, running out of moveable space to expand your lungs and diaphragm.

“I wanna see you squirm.” Pink smoke was blown directly into your face, catching you off guard. But, where was the cigarette? You didn’t see it…

Your muscles went loose, the stress of the moment washing away. Both of your hands came to the center of your chest and pressed down. Security. Readiness.

Four minutes.

Alastor didn’t like you having a phone but he didn’t stop you from owning one. You had assumed you’d be on the set where you knew there would be some way to keep track of the time. Or else you’d have just worn a dress with pockets to carry a cellphone. Maybe set a timer.

You weren’t sure about Alastor’s disdain for tech until you witnessed it yourself. That square headed stalker flitting from screen to screen, riding the wires and the radio waves. He had warned you about the Vees, about Vox in particular. He didn’t have much to say about Velvette, and somehow that was better than the nothing he had to say about Valentino.

As Val’s tongue slid up your neck, you thought about Angel. A confidant. You wished he had asked Alastor to kill Val, as a thank you for his efforts in reuniting you two. And, now that you remembered, uniting you at all.

Instead he asked for a bigger room. Large enough for two to comfortably cohabitate.

Alastor maybe couldn’t kill Val, but he could try. When you brought it up with him he was upset. He didn’t like his name being spoken at all unless absolutely necessary

An inadvertent moan you didn’t realize came from you until Valentino chuckled at the sound.

“Feeling it?” He cooed. You weren’t sure which it he meant. This wasn’t going quite to plan.

Three minutes.

So much could happen in three minutes. Too much. He slid down his underwear, sitting up and letting you see him in his full glory.

Why did he have to be such a bad man?

Many men who carried big sticks were unkind. Between their legs or between their fingers.

Alastor was an exception to the rule.

Things did calm down for Alastor after you returned, eventually. Alastor’s desperate need was soothed with you in hell again. His appetite dying. But he hungered in new ways. Ways you hadn’t anticipated to fill your cup so full. Long and intense kisses where his hands dragged down your body and he sighed into your cheeks. You were often pulled into his side and under his arm when sharing the sofa. Soft pets to your hair as you fell asleep.

And when you felt the need, and if he wasn’t feeling up to it, he’d lie beside you and whisper into your ear. Talking soft and low about all the ways you stole his heart and mind while his hand pumped those long fingers in and out of your own needy pussy. He’d grin into the nape of your neck when you were incapable of keeping your voice down any longer. A feeling you’d come to need.

You didn’t need a cock to be full. And by the look of Val’s twitching monster, you’d be broken before he bottomed out.

His thumbs pulled apart your bottom lips, “Ready to spread you open so wide you won’t even feel that lanky fuck in you.”

His third and fourth hands pushed your thighs open and back, hands you could swear felt familiar. Alastor? Or before him?

You struggled to regain focus, your fingers feeling at your bra.

Two minutes.

Legs suddenly too weak to resist, or perhaps Val too strong. Or, a third option, you weren’t trying so hard. Behind his fingers was left a burn on your skin.

“Closer.” Your lips were tingling, it felt good.

“I need you closer.”

His wide chest grew prideful, “Oh? If you’re looking for love you’re in the wrong bed, princesa.”

“No love. Chest. I can’t reach your chest.” You struggled to sit up, but managed to grab the chain connecting his pierced nipples before falling back into the bed.

A screech, a squeak, “Fuck! Watch how you handle that.” His voice rose several octaves. God, you hated him.

You gripped the chain tightly, the feeling keeping you a little grounded. “Oops.” A whirlpool was behind your eyes, all five senses mingling and amplifying. This was dangerous. He hadn’t used this aphrodisiac on you before…maybe he had liked how much you thrashed when he tied you up and mocked you.

His length ran up your core and you jumped. He was so hot. So…. Firm.

No. Too close.

One minute.

You had told Alastor you wouldn’t let it go too far. He said he’d not stop you, because you had said you needed to do it. But you could see the conflict behind his own gaze. What would he do if you returned smelling of Val? Dripping of him?

Almost. Just a few more seconds. His body rolled into you, rocking you with the motion. Every passing had his cock from slit to balls sliding between your wildly wet folds.

Timing was key for your safety. Though Alastor had made it clear you could always just bail and wait for his call.

The more Val rubbed and pressed against you you felt your mind melt a little more. Surely it would slip down your spine at this rate.

A brief worry in the pleasurable fog, what if later on you remembered the pleasure and felt guilty? Guilty to Alastor but most importantly to yourself, for gasping and sighing under the abusive trash that dragged you to hell to begin with.

And what if you didn’t?

Which was worse?

Which would be easier to live with?

He prodded your inner thigh. He was getting closer and closer to actually entering you.

30 seconds.

“Do you remember my promise?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” His head was hung as he stared between your bodies. He didn’t see you reach between your breasts into your bra and pull out the Carmine angelic dagger Husk had recommended to Alastor. You hadn’t been quiet about your plans.

“Odd, it’s on recording. Maybe you didn’t realize I was talking to you.” As you moved the dagger from your right side to bury it into Valentino’s chest you remembered the man in the woods. The young man at work. Angel. Here you were again. But if this ended the same as the woods, where would you go? Would Alastor be able to reach you?

“My promise to fucking kill you.”

Valentino keeled back, hand raised to slash your throat out when a green light momentarily blinded him. The sound of chains filled the room as you disappeared into nothingness underneath him. He was left slashing at his own duvet while he tried to slow the bleeding.

Alastor caught you as you fell from the portal he summoned you with. Two feet barely touching the floor as he set you in the reading chair in front of his fireplace.

He nodded at the drops of blood staining your cornflower yellow dress, “Was it a success?”

Your body slipped down the chair, dress getting caught in the friction and riding up. He leaned over and tugged it back down to hide your exposed sex. You were too far gone to feel deja vu.

“No, I think he’s alive. He drugged me with that smoke.” Your legs were spread wide, trying to keep your weight from slipping off the chair. “I was too weak.”

Alastor sat in the chair opposite and took in the scene. Hair messy, legs open, face flush. Bloodied and breathless.

Pride ran a shiver up his spine. His doe’s second murder attempt. While he has despised the idea he couldn’t pretend he didn’t love the initiative.

“Hey, I know you said you wouldn’t ask.” You crossed your legs at the ankle, which did nothing to stop the way the air that was rising up your dress and cooling your core. “But I didn’t fuck him.”

Alastor shrugged, “As they say, all is fair in love and war. I would understand if you did for the sake of killing him. What’s a little sex if it helps murder?”

Your hand slipped down your chest, a ghostly trail in its wake like your touch had an echo. “What a terrible way to confess you love me.”

A choked cough from the radio demon.

Your eyes slipped close. Relaxed. “I feel good.”

He hummed.

“Not from the stabbing, from the stuff in his smoke. My body is thrumming. Is my heart pounding?” You tried to stand but ended up on your knees, cheek coming to rest on his inner leg. As he leaned forward to let his hand enter your dress and rest above your heart, his face got close to yours.

“It’s frantic.” A low whisper into the shell of your ear. Pulling back he paused at your face to lick an errant drop of blood. “You reek of him.”

“He did lick me a couple times.” You watched Alastor sneer, “And he was naked, like, immediately. Oh! Oh fuck,” your head popped up with a renewed clarity, “He recorded it.”

Alastor stilled, he wasn’t thinking about the recording aspect. He was thinking on your heart, on how flushed your skin was, the sweat dripping down your neck. On the thought of Val’s tongue over your skin. “The medicine— or drug you were exposed to,” a deep breath in, “What does it feel like?”

A topic change you hadn’t expected, your body slouched into his leg, arm over his thigh for support. His eyes on your face as they always were when you were in the room.

“Like my body is… illuminescent. Every time my clothes or something touches me, my skin lights up and my brain gets so quiet.” His palm stayed on your heart.

“Hmm,” His hands slipped under your arm, lifting you up. Your feet were entirely off the ground now as he carried you like a dirty cat on its way to the bath. Gently, you were set onto the bed. A lovely juxtaposition.

“Every time I touch where he did, tell me.” Alastor kneeled beside you, deft fingers unbuttoning your dress. A sharp claw popped under the center of your bra and sliced through the fabric.

Your body was humming again, Val’s powerful aphrodisiac lifting up from your senses like dust under heavy footsteps.

Goosebumps formed up your arms as the back of his fingers traced along the outside of your forearm. As he curved up your shoulder and reached your neck you breathed out a low, “There.”

You watched him lean down, warm lips kissing at your skin. A series of kisses as soft and needy as the ones he often placed on your own mouth. A shudder turned nearly violent as his hot tongue ran up your neck to your jaw.

His nose slid up your cheek, “There.” Kisses to your face, across your nose and to the other side.

He pulled back, eyes lusty and heavy lidded. He didn’t say anything, but his grim smile asked you something. You nodded, running your hands down your chest and to your thighs.

A growl you hadn’t heard in so long rumbled in his chest. He rolled you onto your stomach and pulled the dress off entirely, nails raking along your spine until they dimpled the soft fat of your ass.

“There.”

Alastor straddled you at the back of your knees. You wanted to squirm but your muscles had gone weak again. He nipped at the mounds of flesh, massaging and squeezing after every particularly sharp bite. What little part of your brain could form coherent thoughts was trying to piece together an alarm— his face was so close to your still soaking wet entrance.

Images bubbled up where words were failing. Val’s large cock head smearing precum up your slit.

His hands roamed down your legs and feet before turning you back to face him. When you could finally see his expression again, you were surprised to see a look he hadn’t given in so long.

Needy. Desperation screamed through knitted brows, hazy eyes, and a weak smile threatening to fall flat.

As his hands slid down your stomach and reached the junction of your thighs, you started to register the little moans you were making.

But it was getting harder to hear past the radio static and pounding heartbeat in your ears.

Soft fingers traveled between your closed thighs, you hesitated before offering what you thought was a quiet, “There.”

You couldn’t hear yourself think let alone speak as the sounds both in and outside your body grew louder with every signal he’d found a new spot to cover up.

His knees pushed open your left thigh, then your right. Lowering himself, he hitched your knees and lied flat on his stomach. A bite to your inner thigh, nearly the back. A suck, sharp and strong, that ended with a pop as he released.

Nose inching closer and closer to your core, Alastor could see your hole clenching. A dribble of the evidence of your arousal being forced out and down the cleft of your ass.

You heard and felt his breathing quicken, when a finger slid down your folds you couldn’t stop the raise of your hips.

“There.”

The lights went out with a pop. Shaky breaths as his tongue swiped from entrance to clit. Lick after lick to your center like he was trying to make you clean again. Another moan you were only sure was yours cut through the now biting static that filled the air around you.

Your mind tried to piece together a sentence, “Crazy stuff… it had me so horny”, your hands ran up your chest without thinking, “I was almost hoping Val would put it in before time was gone.”

The static cut. Not even the sound of the fireplace or the crickets in the swamp portaled into his room were present anymore.

“Isn’t that insane? Have you ever heard of such a drug?” Your eyes had closed, feeling his breath wafting down your saliva coated lips. “Alastor?”

He was being honest when he said he’d not hold it against you. But he hadn’t even considered a situation where you wanted more to happen. Than had been discussed. The very idea of Valentino mixing with you brought bile to his throat.

The drug was to blame and he could understand that, as a man. But as an overlord, as something more akin to animal in some aspects, he had the clawing urge to reclaim you. To write over even the thought of wanting to feel Valentino.

“My darling little doe, I think you need a reminder of just how much of you I possess. And the parts of me you own in turn.”

You looked down to see glowing eyes from between your legs, his fingers snapped and while you couldn’t see what was happening past the light of his eyes, you could hear the VHS player click and then a small, “Aunt Sara….” whispered in a familiar voice.

“I don’t understand what’s happened….”

It took a moment to register it was your own voice you were hearing from the darkness.

“Aunt Sara isn’t here.”

Alastor’s acting debut crowing from the old TV beside his bayou door. His eyes shifted with a blink from glowing red to black, just sharp dials visible in the shadow of his face.

“She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.”

The prongs of a buck ready to clash over his territory creaked past your open thighs.

“But I want more than that. I need more than that.”

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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slutforln4 · 6 months

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DEVOTION

🖇️ you liked being secret. it was something sacred between the two of you. you liked it so much, you started to hate it

🖇️ pairing: lando norris x teammate reader

🖇️ 8.2k words, angst & smut | second part to crave

🖇️ took me another month to finish, but as demotivating as this was, i hope i get back to posting more frequently :)

Clandestine meetings soon became you two’s most trusted secret.

The gentle touches, quiet whispers, longing glances and warm smiles were something you had grown to love. And your favourite part about it being secret? It was all about you.

In public, you’d pay no mind to Lando. During races, you’d still act like you hate him, still try and cause trouble on the track. But in private, where the only set of eyes on you were the green irises of the man you love, you’d be the centre of attention.

Lando’s hands wouldn’t touch you the same way in public as they do in the enclosed space of his driver room, hotel room, or your home. And that excited you.

You liked being secret. It was something sacred just between the two of you.

You liked it so much, you started to hate it. Maybe it was just the fact that Lando took you being a secret a bit too far. Or maybe it was just his way of hiding your relationship, if you’d even call it that.

You just couldn’t understand him going out with another girl, but still ending up in your bed at the end of the day.

Especially when you had deleted every dating app, got rid of every memory of any guy you were talking to, all because you and Lando have the chance to become something.

Your hope of that lessens everytime you see rumours of him going out with girls. It’s never anything romantic, just him at a table with a new girl every other week, so it didn’t bother you as much.

The bubbles in your hotel bathtub were softly caressing your skin when you saw the picture.

Casually scrolling on your phone in the bath as you waited for the conditioner to absorb into your hair, you made the horrible decision of clicking on that tempting X icon in the top left corner of your homescreen.

The first post? A picture of Lando’s tongue down a girl’s throat.

For the first time in a long time, Lando was the reason for that burning and disgusted feeling in your stomach. It felt like it was making its way up, the feeling getting caught in your throat as you type something out into a tweet, shut your phone off and drop it to the floor.

Even when you weren’t looking at it, the picture was burned into the back of your eyelids.

The mere image of his hands on her waist— the same hands he touched you with— was enough to make you feel that hatred crawling back.

As if on cue, your phone started ringing and the contact was none other than Lando himself.

“Hey, darling.”

You rolled your eyes at the familiar pet name. “Hi, Lando.”

Shuffling was heard on the other side of the call, you could only assume Lando was still in bed with the girl from that picture. “What’s with the tone? No ‘Lan’, no ‘baby’?”

“Sorry,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Stressful day.”

Lando chuckled. “Baby, we work at the same place. I’d know if you were off because of a stressful day. What’s wrong?”

You hated how he knew you inside and out, yet to you he had glued himself shut and you can’t pry yourself in.

“I don’t know.”

A sigh brushed past Lando’s lips. He knew why you were in a mood, and it didn’t exactly excite him to do that to you. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why he did it. It just happened, and you’re technically not together, so he thought it wasn’t a big deal.

The call stays silent for a minute or two, both of you trying to come up with what to say. Lando speaks first. “Come to my room. 304.”

“Lan, I’m no-” He hung up before you could even respond.

You finished your bath, hoping the water washes away whatever feeling was brewing in your chest.

The view of yourself in the mirror made you feel pathetic— why were you sulking over some guy?

It wasn’t even anyone special. Just the guy you’ve been in love with for about as long as you’d known him. The guy, who confuses you beyond words. You can’t help but try to decode whatever lies in the gaps and the silence, yet having no luck.

Despite being confused and frustrated, you dried your hair and changed into your PJs, and locked the hotel room behind yourself.

Lando’s room was just across the hall, the fourth door from yours.

This all felt too familiar, only fuelling the confusion and fear in your chest. It suffocated you, the notion that despite you being Lando’s, he wasn’t entirely yours.

Yet you still spent the night with him— slow and borderline loving, careful hands travelling your body and hungry lips trailing your neck.

And in the morning, the sun just above the horizon, you slipped from Lando’s grasp and found yourself crying away your mascara before it’s properly dried.

The black taint stained your cheeks, dripping down your chin and onto your sweatpants. You felt partly relieved to know Lando’s having fun. You’d hate to be the one to stop him from going out and finding other girls.

But that’s also what made you partly heartbroken.

It’s not even about you being hurt, it’s about other girls being replacements for each other, not knowing that you’re just like them— aching and breaking for someone that doesn’t see you the same way.

Your phone dings with a message as you wipe your tears away.

Lando: Don’t like morning cuddles anymore?

A giggle slipped past your lips before you thought to catch it, and you quickly typed up a reply.

You: I have a breakfast thing with Carlos.

You: Knew I’d probably ditch it if I were to cuddle you awake.

Lando: Will I see you at the party tonight?

Lando: DJs booth, just the place to be :))

You: I’ll think about it.

Except that you already had. You decided to go, more so for yourself than for Lando, but the thought that you’d get to spend more time with him sure was a bonus.

You continued on with getting ready as you called your brother and asked if he wanted to get breakfast. He instantly agreed, and you changed into something more casual and comfortable than the tear stained sweatshirt and mascara stained sweatpants.

Carlos was waiting for you in his car.

When you got in, he immediately felt something was off. Ever since you were little, it seemed like he had some sort of telepathy with you. Whenever you were sad, Carlos was there and comforting you.

He’s not sure what exactly is wrong right now, but he knows you need your big brother.

Carlos presses a few buttons on the control panel of the car and the sound of your favourite song plays. Your head turns to look at Carlos with an appreciative look on your face, a small smile adorning your lips.

You watch as he starts driving and turns the volume up, slowly beginning to dance along to the song as he mouths the lyrics. Soon, you broke out of your sadness and sang along with your brother.

This was exactly why you never gave up. Him.

Carlos has always been a great brother. You were still very small when you realised that. And everyday, every year, he proves that to be more and more true. Like when you were fourteen.

That year, the taste of heartache became familiar on your tongue.

It was the first time you had felt the touch of a male. It still lingered weeks after it happened. You felt loved and cared for, until you didn’t. Carlos was there through all of it, comforting you and threatening to beat that guy up for you.

Even though he was as protective as he could be, your heart kept breaking. It fixed itself, glued each broken shard back together, only to shatter again.

The flavour of love soon tasted more bitter than sweet. And you’re starting to feel the same way at twenty-four.

Minus the heart breaking and fixing itself part, but the flavour of bitterness still lingered on your tongue as you tried to wash it down with orange juice.

“Is it good?” Carlos points to your caesar salad with his fork, mouthful of scrambled eggs muffling his voice.

You poke at your food with a fork and shrug. “A bit bitter, but it’s fine.”

Carlos laughs at that, as he grabs your plate and switches it with his own. “The scrambled eggs are a bit… difficult to chew. But it’s better than croutons and whatever else is in this.”

You watch your brother take a bite of the salad, immediately making a face and trying his best not to spit it out. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, through a faux pained expression. “It’s delicious.”

“I bet it is.”

Laughter came so easily when you were with your brother.

Carlos made you laugh so much you’d feel your abdomen grow sore with every giggle and laugh that escaped your lips. And Carlos loved seeing your eyes form into crescent moons, knowing that he’s still able to somehow make you feel better.

“Are you going to the party?” Carlos asks as you get out of his car, back at the hotel.

“Yep,” you shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

Carlos gives you a look as if he knew something, but said nothing about it. You brushed it off and made your way to the lobby. You ask for your key at reception, take the elevator to the fourth floor and as you’re about to unlock room 301, Lando’s hotel room door opens.

You don’t turn around to look, because you expect it to be Lando and you’re not sure if you want to talk to him right now. But what makes you whip your head to the left is the sound of a female giggle.

There she was. Same brown hair, same tan skin, same beautiful figure. Identical to the picture you had seen on twitter.

It made you sick to your stomach. Especially when you could see Lando’s head peeking out to kiss her goodbye, and you swore you could see his eyes focused on you. Though you can’t be sure, because as soon as you saw his curly brown hair, you were stepping into your hotel room.

It takes about fifteen minutes for you to calm down and for Lando to knock on your door.

You opened it expecting it to be room service, but Lando slipped inside before you could close the door on him. “You’re avoiding me.”

“I’d have no reason to, even if I was.” You shrug as you take a seat on the bed. Lando squats down in front of you, the palms of his hands flattening on your knees.

He rests his bearded chin on the top of his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I already told you,” you shrug, before leaning back to push yourself up on the palms of your hands. “I’m stressed with the races starting up again.”

“You’ve been doing just fine, baby.” Lando reassures you. “You got second place, remember?”

“That’s the problem. I’m always in second place.” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the race or not anymore, but you mean whatever you said.

Lando leaned up to try and kiss you, but you turned away.

“And I think it’s best if we stay friends.”

That hit Lando right in the gut. He felt his chest constricting under the weight of your words, all the air being squeezed out of his lungs as each word plugged his airways.

“What? What do you mean?”

You shrug. “I want to focus on my career.”

Lando runs the palms of his hands across his face. He’s not sure why, but he has a feeling it’s got to do with the girl who left his hotel earlier. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I guess.” You shrug, sitting up and looking at him. Lando now stood on his feet, looking down at you as his fingers softly grabbed your chin.

He lifted your face up to look at him, thumb softly brushing past your bottom lip. As if it’s a habit, your lips parted and he smirked.

Lando knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. You just needed a reason to get a break from him, even though you really don’t fucking want to.

Lando sits beside you, the familiar warmth of his hands wrapping around your waist and next thing you know, you’re on his lap. His lips don’t hesitate to kiss away any thought of you two staying just friends.

As much as this relationship hurt you, it was irresistible.

You longed for the lingering taste of Lando’s saliva mixing with yours, the warmth of his hands perfectly slotted on your waist, the lasting vibration of his moans in your mouth.

And Lando longed for it just the same.

He couldn’t tell you why he was going out with a different girl every other night, for the past two weeks of you two being… something.

Lando’s not even sure himself. It’s just something he was used to, but these times around it just felt so wrong. Yet he couldn’t say no to those girls, until he’s sure you feel the same overwhelming feeling of love he has for you.

When you fall asleep in his arms, Lando fights the internal battle to stay with you. But he knows it’s for the better if he leaves before you wake up.

The warmth of his body still cradles the sheets he laid in when you get woken up by a call.

You swallow down the bittersweet feeling in your throat before picking up, slumber still lingering on your tongue. “Hello?”

“Morning, lil’ Sainz.” Daniel’s cheery tone tickles your ear as you turn on your side. “Are you hungry?”

You check the clock on the wall. Six in the evening never looked so bright, but again, you’re in Las Vegas and it’s never dark in the city that never sleeps.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

Daniel’s smile can be heard from a mile away when he talks and it warms you up inside. “Sushi or pizza, your pick.”

“Hm,” you sit up and stretch, finally letting Lando’s warmth slip away from your skin. “I’m feeling like sushi, to be honest.”

“Sushi it is! See you in twenty.”

And in twenty minutes, you were sitting on your hotel room bed, Daniel telling you stories about Max and you stuffing sushi into your mouth, trying not to choke as you laughed.

“Are you going to the party?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You ask, noticing how it’s the third time you’ve heard the same question.

Daniel shrugs. “I’m just wondering,” he explains. “Don’t know if I would’ve gone without you.”

Over the last few weeks, you and Daniel have become close. So close that he’s probably the only one on the grid that knows about the little situationship you have going on with Lando.

But Daniel never brings him up, not unless you want to talk about it.

“I’m going,” you answer his previous question. “I bought a dress for this specific occasion.”

“Care to show it?”

You bounced to your feet at his question and made your way to your suitcase, not noticing how Daniel’s eyes followed each of your moves. You pulled out a black dress before making your way to your bathroom and trying it on.

Daniel waited patiently as you got dressed, the sushi entertaining him until the bathroom door opened.

The sushi he held up with his chopsticks never made it to his mouth, stuck mid-air as he gaped at the image in front of him — a long, silk dress with a slit deep enough to reveal the tender flesh of your left thigh, your shoulders adorned by thin and delicate straps.

You giggle at Daniel’s reaction. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

The aussie briefly nods. “It’s gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “Now, without pretending to be Lando?”

“It’s beautiful on you. Gonna make him drool,” Daniel grins at you. “My impression’s spot on and you know it.”

You giggle as you roll your eyes again, turning back around to the bathroom. The door doesn’t close shut this time, which prompts Daniel to rise to his feet and investigate what you were up to.

Leaning against the doorway, his golden eyes carefully watched as you dabbed on makeup. “Do you really need all that?”

“Yeah, you could use some, too.” You tease, leaning against the bathroom cabinet to get closer to the mirror.

“I mean,” you turn to Daniel when he shrugs. “You’ll be crying it off anyway.”

A used wet-wipe lands on Daniel’s crossed arms, him laughing and you threatening to throw another one. “Get out.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m picking you up in an hour, hopefully you’re done caking yourself in makeup by then.”

“Bye, Daniel.” You raise your voice as if to urge him to leave.

“See you, love.”

The hotel room door closes and you’re left alone again, thoughts of Lando quickly seeping back into your mind.

It’s like every time you tried to get rid of him, he found a way back in. And who are you to say no to him?

When you fell asleep in his arms earlier, the familiar scent of him clouding your mind, you felt it again. And as much as you cursed yourself for feeling it, you couldn’t help but let the feeling bloom in your chest.

Lando felt it too, and he felt it full force when he saw you walking into the club with Daniel’s arm around your waist. Yet the feeling of love in his chest was mixed with a tinge of jealousy. Or maybe more than a tinge, because his jaw clenched at the mere sight of your little dress swaying with every step you took.

“Everything alright, Lan?” Lando’s armcandy of the night mumbles against his neck.

His green eyes track you from across the club, narrowing in on you when you spot him and give him a small wink. “Everything’s perfect, babygirl.”

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of Lando and the same girl from earlier. His arm was gripping her waist in a way you thought was special to you and it made your skin crawl.

“You think he believed it?”

You turn to Daniel as he asks, sitting back in the booth you two shared. “I think so.”

“I can keep the act going, if you’d like.” He offers with a cheeky grin decorating his face.

You sip the margarita he had ordered for you, before smiling softly. “I’ll take you up on that, then.”

The night seems to pass you by as you get occupied in a conversation with your brother and his friends. Soon, the blasting music and fluorescent lights began to bore you, so you chose to scan the club for something to do.

When the dance floor catches your eye, you grab Daniel’s wrist. “Get up.”

The golden eyed man doesn’t utter a word as he gets up and follows you, ready to go wherever you take him. He quickly realises what you want to do, his arm snaking around your waist in an incredibly familiar way.

Daniel feels your hand find the back of his neck as he pulls you in from behind, slowly moving your hips against his. It’s a platonic act, both of you know it, but at the moment, Daniel feels like it’s more than just a ruse to make Lando jealous.

Maybe, for the night, he could let loose and show you what a good man is. Maybe, if it all goes right, he’d get to take you back to the hotel, too.

He loses all hope for that when he notices your eyes scanning the room again, looking for the one and only Lando Norris.

The man stood at the bar, green eyes carefully narrowed at the hand that’s slowly moving closer to your inner thighs.

He’s not sure why he’s so fucking jealous. It’s not like he wasn’t doing the same damn thing twenty minutes ago, hands exploring parts of the armcandy’s body they’ve never touched before. Lando feels like its fine only when he does it.

A gentle tug on his arm averts his attention elsewhere. Natalie, or whatever her name was, looked up at Lando with her big brown eyes. “Do you want to leave?”

Lando’s curls bounced when he shook his head. “No, baby.” You watch as he kisses her head, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “You having fun?”

“Mhm,” she grins up at him, noses touching and the image slowly burns into your memory. You feel a spark of something inside of you, something that caused you to be more handsy with Daniel.

The sight of Daniel’s hands grabbing your ass, your arms tracing the outline of his pecs and Daniel grinning down at you with a look only you could get out of a man, made Lando’s blood boil.

The party turned less into a celebration for the race and more of a competition between you and Lando— both of you were trying to see how much the other could take until one of you inevitably had enough.

Lando didn’t seem to be phased at all, instead waiting for the moment you looked his way. His fingers curled around the short brunette’s jaw as he pulled her in, his tongue exploring her vodka flavoured mouth.

You watched them make out, anger and envy filling your system. You felt it pulse through your veins and it stopped the second Daniel spoke. “You might not like this idea, but maybe-”

“Kiss me.”

The australian blinks a few times, as if to try and make sense of what you just said. “What?”

“When Lando looks at us, I need you to kiss me.” You explained, arms wrapping around Daniel’s warm neck. You saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Friends kiss, don’t they?”

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs, an awkward grin decorating his pretty lips. “Sure.”

The song changes and you start dancing again, untangling yourself from Daniel and letting your own hands travel your body and raise your dress slightly, ass facing Daniel as he tries his best not to look at you too much.

But he couldn’t help it. His eyes seemed to be drawn to your figure, hands glued to your hips as you grinded on him again, back against his chest and faces inches apart. Daniel wasn’t even sure if Lando was looking, but he kissed you anyway.

His whiskey flavoured lips perfectly matched the taste of the margarita on yours, tongues fighting a battle neither of you will win. The kiss felt like something new, something you’ve never felt before and want to feel again, and again, and again.

To your luck, Lando was looking. He wasn’t just looking— he was burning holes into the back of your head with the intense stare he had on the image in front of him— his ex-teammate kissing his fucking girl.

Lando wouldn’t have that.

The brunette girl he was making out with earlier stands confused as her date peels himself away from her, making his way to the middle of the dance floor.

Daniel feels the warmth of your breath being torn away and the last thing he sees is Lando’s tight grip on your waist and your body following him into the bathroom.

The slam of the bathroom door is loud enough to scare whoever might’ve been in the neighbouring room.

You didn’t have enough time to comprehend what happened until you see Lando’s hungry eyes trailing your face.

“Hey, Lando.” A teasing smirk plays on your lips as you button up the third button on his shirt. “Button up, you look like a whore.”

The alcohol was obviously still twirling in your brain, but Lando didn’t care. “You’re one to talk, princess.”

You shrug. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando stares at you, a fire so bright in his eyes that it burns you before he’s even touched you. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.”

The anger in his tone made you melt. You felt how much your teasing had rubbed off on him and the thought of him letting his anger out on you made you excited.

The bathroom door lock snaps when Lando’s fingers turn it, and the anticipation burns in your chest. It doesn’t take long for him to kiss you, lips attacking your mouth in a way you’ve never felt before.

Lando brings his hands to your hips, pulling you to sit on the edge of the marble countertop next to the sink. He traces his tongue along your jaw and neck, finding all the sensitive spots he had already memorised.

A loud whimper leaves your lips when he bites the skin of your collarbone, the tender skin turning red and teeth marks indenting it. Lando laps at the skin, groaning against it as if the taste of you was pleasure to him.

Lando slipped the straps of your little black dress off your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. He didn’t hesitate, tongue finding your left nipple and twirling around it.

“You lose yourself, darling.” He growls against your skin, pushing you further against the cabinet as your thighs dig into the edge of it. “Every time I’m not there to control you, you misbehave.”

“Mmm,” you groan as his hand wraps around your neck, softly applying pressure with his fingertips. You feel the air softly escape your lungs and the exhale is slow when you say, “misbehave?”

Lando bites back what he initially wants to say, a smirk decorating his soft lips when he notices the glimmer of lust in your eyes. “Little sluts like you never know when they misbehave, hm? Rubbing yourself all over my ex-teammate, kissing him… You thought I wouldn’t do anything about it?”

“I knew you would,” you smile, canines shining in the white glow of the bathroom lights. “I wanted you to.”

Lando narrows his eyes at you. “Is that so, pretty girl?” His fingers curl around your neck tighter, air hitching in your throat.

With one swift move, Lando pulls you off the cabinet and turns you around to face the mirror on the wall. It’s big enough that you can see your entire body and Lando standing behind you.

You’re too focused on the hunger in Lando’s eyes to notice him practically tearing your dress upwards, pulling your drenched panties to the side and slipping himself into you with ease.

“So fucking wet,” he moans, fingers digging into your hips so painfully that it feels good. “Was it me or was it Daniel that got you this wet, baby?”

A quiet moan leaves your lips as he stretches you out. You’d answer truthfully, but it’s too much fun seeing Lando so worked up knowing damn well he’s the only one who gets you soaked like this. “Mmh, fuck.”

“What was that?”

“He,” you huff, hissing when he slams into you a bit rougher this time. “Daniel got me, fuck,” the words get caught in your throat when Lando’s palm makes contact with your bare asscheek.

“Stop fucking lying to me.” He says through gritted teeth. “I know he can’t make you feel the same way I can.”

You hate that he’s right.

As fun as Daniel was, he could never have you be a whimpering mess underneath him. You’re sure he’s great and you know any woman that ends up with him will be lucky, but it won’t be you.

Lando pulls you back into the moment with a tug on the fistfull of your hair in his palm. “Look at me when I speak to you, darling.” Your eyes lock onto him in the reflection of the mirror. “Good girl.”

A weird feeling settles in your belly when he says that phrase. He’s never used it for you before and you realise you fucking love it. The grin on your face and half-lidded eyes show it, too.

Your head drops down onto the cabinet as Lando grips your hips again, pulling you into him as he basks in the melodical moans coming from your pretty lips.

“Look at yourself,” his veiny hand wraps around your neck and fingers dig into the base of your jaw, lifting your head up to face the mirror. “Such a fucking slut.”

Lando’s still pounding into you when the door handle twists and someone tries to get in.

The skin-to-skin noise doesn’t stop as Lando shouts. “Occupied!” all while his hand covers your mouth. He’s purposefully digging his cock deep into your pussy, trying to fish out any loud noise he can get.

You’re drooling all over his fingers when your mouth parts and he slips two of them past your lips. Lando can feel your high approaching and he fucks deeper into you, surprising you with an orgasm.

You half expected him to leave you without one, but the pleasure washes over you as you moan his name. “Fuck, Lando!” He’s groaning when your walls close around him, and he’s spilling into you, his warm cum burning you from the inside.

Before you can even open your eyes, Lando’s flipping you around and pulling you off the cabinet. Your legs give out and Lando’s hands wrap around your waist before you fall to your knees, instead bringing you down slowly.

You look up at him, lashes fluttering as he pumps his cock a couple times. “Open your mouth, doll.”

Lucky you, not only did your pussy get filled to the brim and graciously given an orgasm, you get to feel his veins burn into the back of your throat, too.

Your soft lips part, closer to the base of his cock. As hot as it was the first time you did this, and the numerous times after, Lando wasn’t in the mood for any teasing.

“I told you to open your mouth, not to lick my dick and act as if you’re not desperate to have me down your throat.”

That statement alone was enough to make you open your mouth, greedily taking his whole cock down your throat.

You’re lucky the club was blasting music, perfectly drowning out your moans and whimpering as your nose brushed against Lando’s pubes.

Lando’s known for being loud, so his moans were probably heard from the hallway. For some odd reason, that turned you on.

His dick dug into your throat and you felt your eyes prick with tears, whimpers bouncing off his shaft and struggling to get past your lips. With basically no warning, Lando’s dick twitched and warm liquid ran down your throat. And you swallowed it without a word from Lando.

Lando wipes your bottom lip with his thumb. “Get up.”

You do as told, fixing the edge of your dress to lay flat against your thighs. You’re hiding yourself from him as if he wasn’t just in you a few minutes ago.

Lando buckles his belt up and watches as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers softly dab at your face and you try your best to fix the mascara that runs down your cheeks.

His warm arms wrap around your waist and his face finds your neck. “You’re beautiful.”

“Did you just leave the girl by herself?” You ask, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.

Lando shrugs behind you. “I’m sure she found her way home, or at least some company.”

“You’re a dickhead, Norris.”

“And you love it.”

The playful grin on his lips caused you to break out in a smile.

Lando follows you out of the bathroom, hand tightly wrapped around yours, fingers intertwined. Daniel’s eyes meet you across the club and he feels his heart sink to his feet at the sight of Lando so closely entwined with you.

“Hey,” the aussie says to you when you walk up to the table you two sat at. He’s accompanied by Charles and Max, who look at you with warm and welcoming smiles. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile at him and place your knee on the seat next to his thigh. You lean over him, completely unaware that your dress rides up and shows the smallest bit of your ass. Daniel softly tugs the dress down so it covers you up as you grab what you need. “Forgot my handbag.”

The men at the table watch you walk away, hips swaying like they usually do, and Lando’s arm wraps around your waist again as he leads you out the club.

Through blurred vision and quiet laughs, you somehow make it back to the hotel. As if it’s a habit, you made a beeline to Lando’s hotel room as soon as the elevator door opened.

Lando watched as you grabbed his keycard and swiped it to open the room.

When the light turned on, Lando’s messy hotel room came into your blurry sight. It was neatly messy, some clothes in piles and his perfumes and skincare scattered across the coffee table.

A snort slipped past your lips when you saw Dior Sauvage amongst the many tubes and bottles. Of course he’d use sauvage.

You feel warm arms slip around your waist for the nth time this night and you lean back into his embrace. The smell of his cologne mixed with the alcohol lingering on him made your head dizzy. Lando’s lips find your neck and he softly kisses you, leaving a trail of love filled pecks down your shoulder.

“Lando?”

He holds his movements for a moment. “Yes, baby?”

“What is this?” You ask, voice trailing. The item in your hands is something that is so oddly familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it.

Lando takes the keychain from your hands, fingers smoothing over the yellowing plastic. It’s pretty old, considering he got it when he was still in karting. “It’s the keychain you gave me. When we were like… Eight? After you sabotaged my race.”

At the mention of your karting days, your stomach turns. The memories of how disgustingly you had treated each other flood your brain and you don’t even hide the goosebumps infecting your skin.

Lando’s fingers softly wrap around your wrist and he turns you to face him before pulling you into his chest. The smell of his cologne mixes with the air as you inhale him deeply, trying to cling onto the feeling of comfort you can’t seem to ever hold onto.

For some reason, that tinge of guilt overtook any other emotion in your body and you felt your limbs grow flaccid at the mere thought of your past, and future, with Lando.

The hues in his eyes slowly disappear as he blinks. “You okay?”

“Tired.” The lie slips past your lips so easily, but it’s simpler to lie than to admit that your mind is going at a million miles an hour with thoughts of what you might never be.

Lando’s gentle hands tour your body and he carefully undoes your zipper, slipping the dress off your delicate skin with his fingertips trailing behind. You’re standing in front of him, and even though he’s already seen every part of you, you feel bare. Raw. Exposed.

It doesn’t take an idiot to notice when you’re off, but Lando felt it coming even before you two got to the hotel.

“Here,” he hands you a t-shirt and you nod your head as a thank you. Yet even before you begin putting the shirt on, Lando takes it from your hands again. “Let me help.”

Your curious eyes watch as he pulls the shirt open from the bottom and his eyes lock onto yours, “arms up,” he mumbles and you obey. He tugs the shirt over your head, the smell of his detergent stilling in your sinuses and making you dizzier than you already were.

Warm fingers softly cup your cheek and you lean into the touch, as his other hand fixes the hair that falls on your face. Lando doesn’t talk, you don’t need him to, instead he gently leads you to the bed and lifts the sheets up as you get in.

Your gaze follows his figure as he walks around to the other side of the bed and sits down at the foot of it. An annoyed grumble leaves his mouth as he fumbles with the buttons, but gives up when he can’t manage to undo them. The muscles on his back flex as he raises his arms to tug off the shirt, and not an inch of his skin goes unnoticed by your gaze.

You connect the dots on his back and draw constellations from them, far more beautiful than the ones you’ve observed in the night sky.

He lays his curls down on the soft pillow, facing you and his hazel eyes carefully study your face. Lando forced himself to stay on his side of the bed, despite every cell in his body practically begging to touch you.

“Come closer.” You whisper and he scoots over even before the words fully leave your mouth. You feel his arms gently wrap around your waist as he pulls you in with your back to his bare chest.

When his lips press against your neck, then your collarbone, and then your shoulder, you expect him to slip his hands into your underwear, how he would every single night you’d end up like this. Your legs subconsciously move apart as you push yourself onto your back.

Lando doesn’t do what you expected him to, though. He continues placing gentle kisses on your shoulder, not moving any closer to your chest and his hands still wrapped around you. “Not tonight, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps on your skin.

“Why not?”

Lando pulls away looking at you. “That's all we do.”

You feel a certain warmth in your belly and a piercing feeling in your chest. “Yeah.”

He lays back down, curls bouncing as he lays down more comfortably. You notice his green, piercing gaze softly studying your face as you look up at the ceiling. Lando knows something’s wrong. Nothing’s been right since he left you and Carlos’ home.

“Can we watch something?” You ask, eyes examining Lando’s face before he softly nods and reaches for the remote. The TV turns on to some random rom-com, and that’s what you settle on watching.

It’s one of the most clichè movies you’ve watched, and you can’t help but let a small smile decorate your face. Your eyes were on the screen, and Lando’s eyes were on you.

He adored the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips, the lashes that sat atop your gorgeous eyes. Lando’s been trying to ignore the feelings growing in his heart, but seeing you this close, being able to just watch you, he decides not to.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Lando’s low and gravelly voice tickles your ears. You turn your head a little towards him, watching how his eyes flickered with something close to what you felt.

“Like, at my house?” You ask, a bit confused by his sudden question. “What about it, Lan?”

He quickly shakes his head. “No, the very first time, when we were sixteen.”

As the words leave his lips, you notice the familiar look of anxiety on his face. The same look he gave you right before his lips touched yours, in that parking lot you soon found to be your favourite place.

That race was proven to be the worst of both of you’s careers— high speed corners, oversteer, crash.

You remember the anticipation of a race weekend brewing in your stomach, hands shaking and heart palpitating as you got into your race car. Lando was right ahead of you, his helmet bright as he got into his own car.

The race started as every other one, you felt confident and proud to have gotten this far. The corners were easy enough to turn, the car felt smooth and you had no doubt you’d land a podium that day or maybe even win the race.

The mind of a sixteen year old girl is more naive and confident than anyone else.

You felt the excitement in your chest as the next corner was easy enough to turn, and it’d let you be even further ahead of your teammate. But, as if it was on purpose, Lando’s car rear ended yours and both of you spun out.

Lando never felt such embarrassment and guilt, especially when he saw you get out of the car with clenched fists and angry strides.

You’re not sure what happened after that, but you remember ditching the briefing with your team after saying you felt ill and hiding in the parking lot, behind a car parked next to the curb.

The humming of the approaching evening managed to calm you down. You felt cold, reminding you that you can, in fact, feel and you’re not just a machine that’s expected to do amazing all the time.

Your silence was interrupted, because even if you were on the other side of the world, Lando would somehow find you.

“Want some?” He appeared from behind the car and startled you, a bottle of champagne in hand.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How’d you get that?”

The brunet simply shrugged and sat down beside you, taking a large gulp of the champagne before handing it to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it and chug some.

“Listen, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine.” You shut his apology down. “I wouldn’t have won anyway.”

Lando shook his head, clearly dismissing whatever you just said. “You’re stupid if you think that.”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another swing of the champagne bottle. “Did you only come here to apologise?”

Lando shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.” You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his expression. “I honestly feel bad, you would have definitely won today if I didn’t fuck up.”

“I heard it was a car issue.” You looked at him for the first time that evening. He looked genuinely upset, which was unusual behaviour for him, especially when it was something to do with you.

“Yeah,” he looked up at the darkening sky. “I could’ve reported it earlier, but I thought I could get in a few more laps before doing that.”

A laugh escaped your lips before you’d thought to catch it. “Was it that or did you plan to sabotage my race? As some sort of revenge, or something.”

“No,” he admits, looking back to the ground. He was nervous and scared, and wasn’t in the mood to tease you. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”

Your curious and confused eyes met his. “What?” Your voice cracked and some form of anger laced your words. “Last time I checked, you fucking hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.”

“That’s bullshit, you’ve only ever tried to sabotage my races and you’ve been a dick to me for as long as I’ve known you.”

Lando sighs, not sure how to convince you or explain what he means. “I don’t know what changed, but I’m not like that anymore. I’ve tried to be nice to you, but you never take it seriously and you act mean instead of accepting it.”

“Are you trying to make me pity you so I forgive you for that stunt you pulled today?” You huff, a disappointed laugh leaving your lips. “You’re unbelievable, Norris. Don’t act like you actually like m-“

That’s when he kissed you.

You felt his breath brushing against your skin as his lips crashed against yours, chapped and rough, but it felt just right.

For a minute or two, you didn’t pull away. You let him kiss you and you kissed him back, and it was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t the champagne swirling in your tummy that made you all warm inside, but instead the soft touch of his fingers to your jaw.

It’s almost like it snapped you into reality.

You pulled away and scooted further from him, watching him with widened eyes. “What the fuck…”

“I’m not acting.” Is all Lando said, before he got up and left you alone, on the curb, just like he found you ten minutes before.

You felt awful for how you handled it, because after his confession, he went back to being cold and mean to you. He wouldn’t utter a word your way unless he absolutely had to, and the teasing remarks were gone.

It all changed from then, until about three years after, when both of you got into Formula One.

You blink and look back at Lando, the memory replaying in your mind multiple times as you nod. “Yeah, I remember it, why?”

“I did mean it.” He hums, fingers softly tugging a piece of your hair behind your ear after you’d turned around to face him. “I liked you back then. I was an idiot for not telling you.”

“Lando-“

“Let me talk, baby.” Lando’s green eyes reassure you and you urge him to speak.

“I was sixteen and stupid, and not persistent in getting what I wanted. I shut those feelings down until pretty recently, when I realised that I never really hated you. I was intrigued and interested.”

He takes a pause, mind sorting through the plethora of thoughts circling his mind in that moment.

“I’ve been yours since I kissed you.” You felt his words weigh on your chest. And you’re not sure if you can trust him.

“Then why did you do that? You can’t imagine how awful it felt seeing pictures of you and all those girls, while I laid in my bed and waited for you to call me and repeat the same routine.”

“I don’t know.” He admits, sounding as genuine as he is. “I was trying to ignore the feelings, in fear of rejection again, even though I knew I had you.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, not sure what to say. It feels awkward talking your feelings out with him, since you’ve never really done that before.

“It’s always been you.” Your eyes find his face again when he speaks. “Even though you hated me, it’s always been you.”

A small, bittersweet grin spread across your cheeks. “I used to hate you with everything I had in me.”

“I know.” It pains Lando to hear it, but he needed the reminder that the mutual hate you two have gone through for him to have you in his arms right now was too much to lose. He can’t risk that. “I felt it.”

“I’m sorry. About everything.” Lando felt the sincerity in your voice as you spoke. It’s the first time he’s actually hearing you speak about your feelings and he’s scared. He’s not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the fear of losing you, but it shakes him to his core and he’s not sure how to handle it.

“It’s okay.” He says, eyes glimmering with a mixture of anxiety and desperation in them. “Get some sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”

You nod softly, turning on your side but still facing him. There’s no amount of words you could say to him that would fully explain what’s exactly going on in your mind. It’s running at the speed of light with thoughts, and you can’t seem to grab ahold of a single one.

Lando lays on his back, shutting the TV off and placing the remote on the nightstand. You heard his quick breath as he moved closer to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his chest.

The warmth of his chest soothed you to sleep. Lando listened to your breathing, waiting for it to slow down and the exact moment when you’d fall to slumber.

His own mind was going haywire. There was so much he just said, still dodging the direct confession, and he cursed himself for it. He could have just told you instead of bringing up the worst night you two had ever experienced. Idiot.

Your face nuzzled further into his skin and he felt your arms snake around his torso, taking ahold of the beating drum in the middle of his chest. He was sure you could hear the rapid heartbeat shaking him, and you could.

The warmth and sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep faster than any other sound. When Lando was sure you had fallen asleep, he softly played with your hair. It’ll be a while before he can say this to you when you’re awake, and you won’t hear it now, but he says it anyway.

“I love you.”

It takes a moment for you to recollect yourself, the act of falling asleep that you’ve perfected since childhood finally coming to play. You bit back a small grin, ignoring the pitter patter in your own chest.

Lando felt uneasy when you shifted your position, lying on your stomach and partially on him, lips so close to his neck.

You placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone, eyes closed and breath steady.

“I love you, too.”

🖇️ taglist for this fic: @lifesass @sltwins @ln4norizz @mybluesoul1 @landoslover

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #f1 x reader #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula one smau #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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silkscream · 5 months

Text

our boredom's bone-deep

ੈ✩ aki hayakawa x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, drunk sex, angst, alcohol, smoking, hurt/comfort, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of s*icidal ideation

ੈ✩ wc: 3.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: theyre both so repressed. also sorry about the tswift reference guilty as sin is just on repeat this week

“Yo.”

Aki turns around to see you walking towards him. You join him on the balcony, reaching over to steal his cigarette back from the breast pocket of his windbreaker.

He looked good in civilian clothes. You didn’t see him like this often – out of his dress shirt and tie with his hair down. Dressed casually like he was a normal boy and not a hunter who signed his soul over.

“You can ask first, you know,” Aki grumbles, watching as you light up the cigarette in your mouth.

“You were going to say yes, anyway.”

He rolls his eyes, knowing that it’s true. He’d taken you to his apartment because it was closer to the location of the mission, offering aid to the wounds you’d gotten in the face of a devil. He didn’t have to. You could still walk and you certainly weren’t dying, but he felt the need to keep you close, anyway.

You chuckle when you see the irritated look on his face.

“Don’t pout.”

The cigarette in his mouth is burned down to the nub. You take it out, grazing the cherried end against the ceramic eightball ashtray you’d gotten him for Christmas the year before. The paint was chipping from how often he used it, speckles of white against the black paint.

You take another cig out from the pack before placing it back into his pocket, holding the stick between your fingers up to his mouth and lighting it.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“You’re very welcome,” you grin.

You stay like that for a few minutes. Smoking and silent, staring at the sky post-golden hour, when everything is blanketed in cobalt blue bleeding into a light orange.

“How are your cuts?”

“I’m fine,” you chuckle. “Why do you worry so much? I’ve been around longer than you have, you know.”

Aki merely shrugs. He doesn’t look at you. Holds in his emotions like a geyser begging to stay dormant.

“I just do,” he says plainly.

“How sweet,” you scoff, flicking your cigarette off the railing. “Thought you liked me the least, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, irritated. “You’re the one who trained me. Obviously, I don’t hate you.”

You merely chuckle, discarding your blazer. Your uniform shirt is still slightly bloodied.

“What, you think I don’t like you?” Aki asks, a brow raised.

“I’d be surprised if you liked anyone,” you shrug. “But I can tell you have a soft spot for Denji and Power, even if you refuse to admit it.”

He grunts, looking away from you as he finishes his second cigarette. The late spring breeze blows his hair into his face. He doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he adjusts his arms on the balcony, his elbow grazing yours. You don’t react, your chin tucked into your arms as you lean forward. He looks at you with curiosity.

You look at him finally and grin.

“You look better with your hair down, you know.”

“I was thinking about cutting it,” he mumbles.

“Don’t. It’s cute. I always thought you looked kind of like a girl. The hair is working.”

He rolls his eyes again, grimacing. He tries to hide his flush.

“Thanks,” he deadpans. “You know how to make a guy feel special.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What do you mean?” you grin. “You think I’m scary and mean? I’m very sweet to my lovers, you know.”

He could cringe. That wasn’t what he meant. He shivers at the word “lover” like it’s taboo, knowing very well that images of you are flooding his brain against his will. Your proximity makes it worse, how even despite both of you getting roughed up during your mission, you still smelled sweet to him.

“Yeah, right.”

“Do you really think I’m so cruel?” you challenge him. He’s not going to take the bait. He won’t.

“I’d assume you were a sadist.”

“You think I’m a sadist?” you laugh.

“Probably,” Aki grumbles. He fidgets.

He doesn’t want to take out another cigarette, but he’s convinced that it’s the only thing that would help him tolerate your presence right now. He’d felt unusual since he took you back to this apartment. His nose wrinkles at the memory of your body hours prior, your side saturated in blood. His rabbit heart thumping out of his chest at the thought you’d die in his arms — and yet here you are, next to him, teasing like you always do.

“Why?”

“Because you love pushing me to my limits,” he mutters.

“Oh, come on,” you chuckle. “It’s not like I treat you like a toy. I’m not Makima.”

“What does Makima have to do with this—”

“Because you listen to everything she says. It’s like all of you fucking worship her.”

Your voice sounds bitter, but Aki doesn’t want to pry about it. For some reason, something in his chest riles him, makes his heartbeat faster at the prospect that you might be jealous of his devotion to Miss Makima. You’d always clashed in your beliefs but was never particularly candid about it – you were like him. You wanted to kill devils for the sake of avenging your family, but you also seemed apathetic about your life. With no family or a promising future, you often didn’t care if you died. It was the most frustrating thing about you.

Aki huffs. “You hate following rules yet you’re still controlling. It’s hypocritical.”

“I am not controlling.”

“You are. And you love to torment me because I’m the only one willing to put up with your shit,” he says, laughing humorlessly. You don’t know that he would do anything you told him, that he didn’t give a fuck about Makima. It had always been you, at the forefront of both his blissful dreams and worst nightmares.

“I like your resilience,” you say quietly.

“Resilience?”

You nod slowly. “You’re the strongest person I know, Aki.”

He hates how much dopamine fills his brain when you say this. The smallest praises from you would have him hung up, lately. Even a smile was motivating, though he’d rather die than admit that to anyone. He was never one to pine or yearn, keeping to himself since he was young. No girl could pry anything out of him that wasn’t surface-level until you.

He hated it. It felt like a weakness.

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it.”

“If I’m actually that strong, I probably would’ve broken down your walls by now.”

It could be a teasing statement, but he tucks his expression away into the fabric of his jacket, looking away from you. You’re so close to him, close enough to touch, but he still holds himself back.

“You should save your efforts,” you mumble.

Aki looks at you with narrowed eyes and tries to scan your face for anything telling, but you’re as stoic as him. He’d always found it frustrating, how he could never get anything out of you. He didn’t know how to be selfish. He was apprehensive about provoking you despite how much he wanted to.

“Why?”

You finally look him in the eye. Your features are painted with stubborn contempt as you glare at him.

“Because I’m not worth it.”

Your words strike him through the heart. You weren’t one to be particularly insecure – he’d known this since he met you. But your words now are trying to downplay how much he feels for you, and he won’t have it.

Aki moves close enough to you to smell your breath.

“You don’t get to decide whether or not I waste my time on you,” he protests.

You stare at him. You’re surprised he wants to know you at all. You’ve barely processed the meaning behind his words, the possibility of him wanting you beyond mission support and devil-hunting guidance. Both of you had walls up and that was fine. You never had any intention of breaking any of his, regardless of how often he showed up in your dreams. No matter how often you’d find yourself glancing at him, drinking up his features until you had snapped yourself out of it.

“You can’t want things as a devil hunter,” you say blankly, staring at the dark sky. “There’s no use. Desire is the root of all suffering and shit, right? Like in Buddhism?”

Aki feels his face warm up, his frown deepening as you say this without even looking at him.

“I’ll suffer for you if I want to,” he says firmly.

“Always a masochist,” you whisper, sighing. You smile weakly at him.

“Maybe I am a masochist.”

“I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a devil hunter, huh?”

“Why are you a devil hunter?” he raises a brow.

“Because it’s better than killing myself. If I die because of this job, at least I died being useful, you know?”

He swallows thickly at the thought of your death. He’d imagined it a thousand times since he met you and realized how sardonic you were, how little you cared about your own life. You were a mirror of him.

“Don’t say shit like that,” he says, his tone cold.

“It’s the truth.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting you die.”

You stare at him, the expression on your face unreadable. Your eyes look dim.

“Thanks,” you mutter. You slide the glass door open and go back inside. Aki feels his lungs ache.

Eventually, he follows you in and sees you on the couch, staring blankly at the television with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. He rolls his eyes. You were just as bad as Kishibe these days.

He sits down next to you without a word, stealing the bottle to take a gulp, flinching. You watch with amusement. He grimaces at you.

“What?” he asks, irritated.

“You can do better than that.”

He wants to wipe the smirk off your face. Maybe with his mouth. He blinks at you a little too fast, then distracts himself with another gulp. A longer one that makes his throat burn, his head dizzy. You laugh.

“I fucking hate you,” he grumbles.

“I didn’t force you to do it,” you scoff.

No, you didn’t. But it was always easy for Aki to do things for you. He often wanted to, didn’t ask any questions. You always wondered why.

“Would you roll around like a dog if I asked you to?” you grin.

“Fuck off.”

You lay down, perching your legs over his lap. He sets his hands on your thigh like it’s second nature to him. You scan his features. His midnight eyes glisten with the blue of the television reflecting in his irises, his mouth downturned into a default pout.

“You should keep your hair down more often.”

He looks at you with surprise, like he’d forgotten you were there.

“Pretty boy,” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.” He tries to keep his expression level. His face is hot from the whiskey, not you, he tells himself.

You shift your position and your foot grazes his crotch. It makes his breath hitch, the creature of want inside him gnawing at his heart. He thinks maybe you’re teasing him, so he takes your foot and rubs it. You raise a brow.

You’re sitting up now, grunting as you do. He pretends that you aren’t staring at him.

“Does it still hurt?” he murmurs.

“Nah. I’m good.”

There’s contempt on his face when he looks at you, his eyes tracing your collarbone just for a second before gazing at the blood on your shirt. Speckled shapes turning from red to brown.

“Let me see.”

“Aki. I’m fine.”

“Let me see,” he mumbles.

You sigh, unbuttoning your shirt until you’re only in a sports bra. He frowns at your wound, how the gauze is dark and nearly falling off.

“Why didn’t you tell me it needed to be changed?”

“It’s fine—”

“No,” he scolds. “Stay still.”

He pins you down by your hips. Somehow, he’s in between your legs, his face frowning in concentration as he looks at your skin. He gets up to grab the first aid kit.

You take another sip of whiskey.

It numbs the pain when he fixes you up again. His fingers are delicate when they handle you — you can’t help but stare at the way they move when he blots your cut. A small press to the center and you feel it sting, making you hiss. He grips you by the waist to disarm you.

Stay still.

“There,” he breathes, kneeling on the floor in front of you. “It’s more secure now.”

He looks at your stomach, watching the rise and fall of your skin as you breathe. You reach out and pat his head like he’s a pet.

Aki was a cute drunk. Still stoic, but malleable in your hands. There are moments during group outings when he opens up a little, places his head on your shoulder. Looks at you for a bit longer than he normally allows himself to.

He presses his cheek to your thigh and sighs as you skim the nape of his neck with your fingers. You stroke his jaw. It’s the closest he’s ever been to you.

Your thumb hooks on his mouth briefly and you feel his tongue on the pad of your fingertip. He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. Glazed over in the dimness, dripped in syrup.

“You’re barely awake,” you breathe. “I should go.”

“No.” He grips your wrist when you pull your hand away, saliva from his mouth creating the string of fate. The sight made your heart sing. Disgusting.

“Why?” you whisper.

He’s quiet. He could bite the bullet, let the heat of it soar straight through his chest so you can see all the gory bits of desire in him. The whiskey only exacerbated the feeling. He was usually good at keeping it down, despite clinging to you like an extra limb. You probably saw right through him.

“Just stay,” he mutters.

“Make me stay, then.”

He hides his face in your lap again. He feels like such a boy. When you run your fingers through his hair again, he pulls away and grabs both of your wrists, pulling you toward him until you fall onto his lap, his body on the floor. He grips your hips and stares at you from below.

“What are you doing? You wanna wrestle?” you joke half-heartedly.

“No,” he slurs quietly. “You’re hurt.”

Aki sits up and leans on the back of his elbows. He looks at you like he’s eager prey, offering himself on a platter, but he won’t say it. It’s killing you.

“C’mon,” you grin. “I can take it.”

“Stop.”

You pin him to the ground. You’re playing. It’s just that and nothing else, isn’t it?

“Aki,” you say. Your face is so close to his. Your breath smells like tobacco and cinnamon, your neck like petrichor.

“I’m not letting you provoke me,” he groans.

You roll your eyes. “Stop trying to take care of me.”

“But I want to,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.

“Then I’ll take care of you. I’m your senpai, remember?”

His face is hot again, sweat sticking to his shoulder blades. Fuck, he needed to fix the fan since Power and Denji had broken it while wrestling. The memory reminds him of the position he’s in right now and a flush creeps up his neck.

“I–”

Your mouth interrupts him. It’s an experimental peck. Impulsive. It’s short, but Aki groans into it and touches his tongue with yours. You pull away with wide eyes.

There’s hunger in his gaze, something like desperation. You could work with this. You knew that you had Aki wrapped around your finger since he started at Public Safety, but you didn’t know he would be like this.

He breathes deeply, dark lashes blinking at you from the mess of his bangs. His dick was infallibly hard since you’d straddled him. It was aching now underneath your cunt — there was no hiding it.

He narrows his eyes, trying to disguise how much he wants you.

“Thought you said desire is the root of all suffering.”

“I guess we’re both masochists, then,” you whisper.

He kisses you with more force this time, buries his mouth into your neck to exhale the scent of his shampoo in your hair. Drunk on you. He sucks a hickey into your flesh like it’s payback.

He groans when he feels your hands underneath his shirt, rubbing against the pale skin of his abdomen until he takes the liberty to pull the fabric off himself. Aki has always been pretty – like a girl, like you’d told him before. He was also remarkably boyish. The shy type. He’d seem to grow muscles over the past year, his lean figure always hidden by the uniform.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he huffs.

“Get uglier, then,” you roll your eyes, pulling at the zipper of his jeans.

He lets you handle him like a doll.

“Thought you’d be rougher,” you whisper.

“You’ve… thought about this before?” he asks.

You blink at him, then look away.

“Once or twice.”

“I’m not gonna be rough with you,” he says, his voice lower than before. “Not when you got stabbed earlier today.”

“Told you I’m a masochist,” you chuckle dryly. You strip off your slacks, showing off your less-than-sexy cotton underwear. He grazes your core, the wet patch growing larger with your slick.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, mesmerized. He licks his lips, wanting to taste you, lust transparent on his face. It humiliated you, for some reason — you were always used to it rough and fast, your vision blurred while you took cock that you didn’t give a shit about. This was different. This was real.

You put your fingers in his mouth again, pinning him down. He moans when you spit on the head of his cock, palming him gently. Taming him.

You slide your panties off of your legs and do the same with his briefs. When you hover over him, your throat feels tight. He keeps looking at you like you created him. Like you were the world itself.

His tip catches on the slick of your cunt, circling your entrance. Your blood boils, every ventricle in your body sparking to life. You feel him buck his hips, desperate and rutting.

“Use me,” he groans, muffled from your fingers on his tongue.

You sink down on him and his eyes roll back. You remove your fingers from his mouth to toy with your clit, whimpering at the sensation of him filling you up. He was bigger than you expected.

Aki shudders from sensitivity. Alcohol usually numbs his senses, but he can feel all of you, how hot and tight you are. It’s driving him mad. He hiccups through moans, his throat raw.

Your cunt pulses as you grind on him, trembling above him as you try to keep your hips from stuttering too much. Already, you were about to fall apart.

“Fuck,” Aki mutters.

Your hand grazes his face and jaw, and he leans into your palm to kiss it earnestly. Your face burns as you tangle your fingers in his raven hair. When he rises to kiss you, you pull his strands while your other hand holds him back by his shoulder. He groans and thrusts upward into you, holding your hips so that your thighs are flush against his.

Your pulse throbs against the cave of your chest. Aki is desperate to kiss you, to get his tongue in your mouth, so he uses your own trick on you – pulls you in with force and grabs a fistful of your hair. You moan into his mouth, tapering off into a whimper, and you feel him let out a breathy laugh in between kisses.

Aki lets himself be a little loud — no one else was home, and fucking you was cathartic. He squeezes the fat of your thigh, his lunacy suppressed into his tight fists. Entranced by the sight of your cunt swallowing up his dick.

You whimper as your knees start to get rug burn, the skin as raw as the love bites on your neck. Your stomach stirs, ecstasy boiling in the pit. You could pretend it was love from the way he gripped you.

“You’re fucking tight,” he grunts.

“Do you like it?” you rasp. You almost sound like you’re begging.

He nods and holds your face, his other hand making an imprint on your waist. Aki was so much taller than you — his size didn’t register until now, the way he was forcing your chin up to look up into his eyes.

He can barely speak, only letting out choked moans and heavy breaths. You look so vulnerable despite being on top of him. He could picture it now, your thighs shaking with arms outstretched to him in morning light. Bare-faced and illuminated, not a bruise on your body. Happy in another life.

“Fuck, Aki,” you moan.

“Again,” he breathes.

“What?”

“Say my name again. Like that.” Like you love me.

“A-Aki,” you whine, gasping for air. “Close.”

A rush of blood to the head. He almost wants to tell you he loves you, force you to say it back to him in between swapping spit. Even if it was just pretend.

You writhe as you cum. Heat-struck by the coil breaking in your stomach. It was like he was melting your insides. He feels your cunt twitch and spills into you with a groan, nose buried in your hair.

He winces as he pulls out of you, his cum getting the carpet wet. He’ll have to clean it up later. He breathes heavily and looks anywhere but your face.

“Lie down with me,” you whisper.

So he does, face to face with you, his arm loose over your waist. He wants to kiss you, but he assumes you’ve had your fill. He wonders if you’ll ever toy with him like that again. He hates himself for how badly he wants it.

But then you look at him, your eyes searching his for meaning. Unspoken words.

“You okay, baby?”

He’s shocked at the nickname, blushing like he didn’t just fuck you to the moon and back.

He nods, blinking rapidly when you stroke his jaw gently. Branding him with tenderness. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with you. He didn’t want to be a sycophant, but he still felt attached to you, and it would only get worse from here. Stuck on his heart like chewed gum.

“Angel boy,” you sigh, hazed. You’re still a little drunk. “Pretty.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.”

“What are you, then?”

He says nothing. You smile. The warmth in his chest is immeasurable. It aches like a wound that never heals. He supposes that’s what you are for him. But what is he?

“Yours.”

#aki hayakawa smut #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x you #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man fanfiction #csm smut #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x reader #csm x you #csm x reader

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anthurak · 11 months

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So I thought I’d throw together a bit of a timeline theory I’ve been thinking about since the last episode surrounding Fizzerolli, how he started working for Mammon, when and how he may have gotten together with Ozzie, who exactly kept him and Blitzo apart after the accident, and also an idea for some rather appropriate karmic irony.

See, we hear in Mammon’s Midseason Special that Fizz has won Mammon’s Clown Pageant the last ten years in a row. But nothing about that indicates that ten years ago was the first time Fizz won.

Instead, I think the actual first time Fizz won Mammon’s Clown Pageant was fifteen years ago. As in, shortly before the accident. For one this really adds some additional weight to the flashbacks we get in Oops. The big celebration we see wasn’t just for Fizz’s birthday, it was celebrating Fizz getting his big break. Winning this competition and getting the chance to work with Mammon, the Sin of Greed himself.

As well as adding even greater weight to Blitzo trying to give Fizz a love letter. Blitzo likely thought this would be the last chance he would get.

Additionally, this would also neatly explain Mammon’s involvement in Fizz’s recovery after the accident. It’s clear that Mammon bankrolled Fizzerolli’s recovery and cyberization, so that begs the question of what would prompt Mammon to invest so much time and effort into helping seemingly some random imp circus kid? Well, what if said kid not only just won his Clown Pageant, but did SO good that Mammon decided pretty much immediately that he wanted THIS kid as his new brand mascot? And then just a few weeks or even days later, that kid was horrifically maimed in a terrible accident at his home? Yeah, I think that gives Mammon ALL the reason to stick his neck out for Fizz. And if you’re going to ask ‘Why didn’t Mammon just drop Fizz after he was basically crippled?’ Because Mammon is the embodiment of GREED. He WANTED Fizzerolli and he was going to HAVE him.

Plus, I think we can assume that this is where Asmodeus entered the picture, with Mammon calling him in to do Fizzerolli’s cybernetics. In turn, I think it’s easy to guess that Ozzie being so closely involved in Fizz’s recovery is when the two started falling in love.

In short, Fizzerolli spends the next few years recovering before making his big debut as Mammon’s new hot brand mascot, winning his next Clown Pageant, and goes on to win every pageant for the next ten years up to present.

Now the other angle here is the big ‘Who conspired to keep Blitzo and Fizz apart after the accident?’ And I’m going to be honest; it is DEFINITELY Cash Buckzo. Like I know some people have theorized that it was Mammon, but frankly that theory just doesn’t make sense anymore. Mammon simply doesn’t have much motive or means to have done this, and if nothing else, he straight up doesn’t recognize Blitzo in the newest episode.

Cash on the other has both motive AND means in abundance. He was certainly one of the people most closely looking after Fizzerolli after the fire and he had every reason to want to cut Blitzo out of Fizzerolli’s life. Likely a combination of petty spite against his son for causing the accident which burned down their circus, likely injured dozens and even killed his wife, and also wanting to isolate and ‘protect’ Fizzerolli, his big cash cow. Especially now that he’d gotten the attention of Mammon, with Cash likely hoping to get/mooch as much as he could out of this new arrangement.

Now that last bit in particular get’s interesting because it’s clear that if Cash was hoping to continue profiting off Fizzerolli, it clearly didn’t work. What with how we have seen neither hide nor hair of Cash around Fizz, who in turn has not brought him up once.

So what happened?

Well, in a bit of delicious karmic irony, I think Cash was the one to cut Blitzo out of Fizz’s life, only to later get cut out of Fizz’s life himself by MAMMON.

#helluva boss #helluva boss theory #helluva boss timeline #fizzarolli #helluva fizzarolli #mammon #helluva mammon #asmodeus #helluva asmodeus #fizzmodeus #blitzo #helluva blitzo #cash buckzo #dramatic irony

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joequiinn · 3 months

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 11

[chap ten] | [all chapters here] | [chap twelve]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Y'all this chapter got away from me! The plot just kept going and going and going, and I kept thinking up more ideas, so hopefully this doesn't feel too longwinded! Can't wait to see what everyone thinks of this one~

wc: 10.9k

Chapter Eleven

Sitting in the passenger seat of the van, you impatiently fussed with your fingernails, checking out the window every 30 seconds for a sign of Eddie, who had disappeared through the back door of a shady liquor store some five minutes ago. It was the night of homecoming - the night of the party - and Eddie insisted he pick up some booze on the way to Rick’s place. According to him, booze or food or drugs of some kind was your ticket into the party - from what you’d heard of this Rick guy, he sounded like a bit of a mooch, but maybe you were just assuming too much.

Leading up to this weekend, you’d been grounded thanks to the argument with your mom and your subsequent disappearance after that. Apparently, your mom had called your uncle Tom in hysterics, panicking about where you could have run off to. Trying to imagine your mother crying or even raising your voice seemed a little far-fetched, so you figured they’d lied about that in order to make you feel guilty for the whole thing. Hell, once you returned home that Thursday afternoon, you were lectured by both your father and uncle Tom about what you did, each of them reprimanding you for the thoughtlessness of what you did.

Honestly, being grounded for a week wasn’t even that bad. In fact, it was almost disappointing that it hadn’t been more satisfying. You were so looking forward to getting in enough trouble to lose TV privileges or maybe even car privileges, but really the punishment felt virtually non-existent. After only one day of your mom driving you to school (something that Eddie, of course, laughed at), she gave up on that and returned your keys, although she was adamant that you were only to drive to and from school or the ice rink.

You probably sounded crazy, but you wished that the punishment had been more severe, more substantial. Your first time being grounded was far from impressive, so you figured you’d have to up the ante at some point. Maybe even this weekend, although getting in trouble again wasn’t your top priority for tonight.

Eddie finally exited the liquor store, so you sat back up in your seat and straightened out your clothes as he approached the van. Admittedly, you’d been growing a little nervous waiting here in the back alley all by yourself, not that you’d tell Eddie that. No, as he climbed into the van with an eager look and a case of beer, you made sure to look bored and unaffected, as if you hadn’t nearly jumped out of your skin thanks to the crazy shouting of a homeless man just a couple minutes ago.

You looked between Eddie and the case of beer, watching as he deposited it on the floor behind his seat. A small knot formed between your brow as you asked with mild disappointment, “Only beer?”

In response, Eddie gave you a coy look before reaching inside his jacket, pulling out a wine cooler that he presented as if it were a sacred scepter. Your face immediately brightened as you accepted it, readjusting in your seat again as Eddie started up the van.

“As if I’d forget.” He teased, turning up the radio before backing out of the alley and onto the road. You popped the bottle cap of your drink, trying not to cringe at the taste as you took a quick sip - after all, a cheap wine cooler was still better than a beer any day of the week.

“Who’s gonna be there?” You asked between sips, your eyes studying Eddie’s face and the drum of his hand on the steering wheel.

You’d spent the last week at the lunch table with Eddie’s nerdy friends, and although they still seemed hesitant around you (except for Dustin, who didn’t seem to hesitate around anyone), they weren’t nearly as awkward and standoffish as before. Yeah, they were all still weird and you still felt like an outside observer of their little world, but they were growing on you, and you hoped that you were growing on them, to.

Eddie glanced at you for a moment with a false look of apology, “Unfortunately, only the freshmen.”

You glowered at his teasing, giving his shoulder a shove as he gleefully laughed, “Shut up.”

You nonetheless smiled as you shook your head, taking another long sip of your drink. Eddie's teasing had only gotten worse over the course of the past week, taking every opportunity he could to poke at you. Evidently, your make-up-turned-sleepover had done wonders, undeniably causing a change to the relationship between you two. It was becoming easier to relax around Eddie, easier to simply exist in each other’s space, easier to become friends. And although you were never the type to be too sincere, Eddie knew you had come to enjoy his company, even if there were days he taunted you too much.

“Beer?” Eddie requested simply, knowing that the case had shifted around while driving so he wouldn’t be able to blindly find it with his hand. You pretended to consider it for a moment, waiting for Eddie to shoot you a look before you acquiesced.

You shuffled in your seat, getting your knees under you while spinning around to reach into the back of the van. The case of beer had slid out of your immediate reach, so you had to stretch for it, half your body leaning into the back so you could get Eddie a drink. As your fingers grazed one of the bottles, you had to pull at your skirt with the opposite hand, feeling the cold breeze from the open window tickling at your exposed thighs. A small huff of annoyance escaped you as you tried to keep your balance, briefly relinquishing the grip on your skirt so you could steady yourself on Eddie’s seat. As you finally grabbed a bottle, you were too preoccupied to notice Eddie’s eyes flick over to your legs or his cheeks reddened as he ripped his gaze away.

You settled back into your seat, opening the bottle for Eddie before handing it to him. As you picked up your own drink again, you returned to your earlier thought, “Will Gareth be there at least?”

Eddie took a large swig of his drink before giving you a cheeky look, “Thinking about cheating on me?”

You had to refrain from hitting his shoulder again, instead opting to roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ll even let you watch, if you like.”

“And they say romance is dead.” You and Eddie grinned humorously at each other before he returned his attention to driving, and you returned your attention to the rhythmic drumming of his fingers.

Following the past week, you’d decided that Gareth was your favorite of the bunch, at least thus far - his expressive face was particularly amusing amidst the chaos of the lunch table, and although he was awkward, he was still nonetheless the easiest to talk to. It’s not that you exactly cared all that much about spending time with the nerds tonight, but rather Gareth could be someone to keep you company should Eddie disappear at any point in the evening.

As you two continued driving through Hawkins, you eventually entered the neighborhood your school was in, causing you to sneer as you saw the sign in the distance. Given the time, you knew that the dance was already in full swing, and for whatever reason that made you even more annoyed, “I almost hope we win, even if it is a joke - just to piss them all off.”

Eddie laughed a little, stealing a glance at your sour expression, “That’d be the first time I won anything. Think we should swing by to say hi?”

Despite your spiteful look, you still couldn’t the way Eddie’s silly suggestion made you smirk, “If by ‘say hi’ you mean ‘slash Duncan’s tires,’ then I’d love to. Asshole still hasn’t gotten what he deserves for his shit.”

As you turned back towards Eddie, you realized he looked… thoughtful? It caused your small grin to slacken - why did he look like he was considering what you said a little too seriously? Your brow rose questioningly as Eddie’s wicked eyes met yours, a dark smile on his lips. God, he was thinking about it.

“Then I guess we’re saying hi.” He said in an almost sing-song voice, pulling into the drive of the school before he missed it.

“Eddie.” Your tone was warning, and you nearly felt like a scolding mother by using his first name. You’d nearly forgotten this past month that Eddie was, in fact, a delinquent, someone who dealt drugs, who apparently “knew a guy” at the liquor store, who had had more than one run in with your uncle. But if you were in need of a reminder that you and Eddie were from very different worlds, well, this was it.

Entering the parking lot full of cars, he leveled you with an honest and serious look, “Tell me you don’t wanna slash his tires, and we’ll go. Promise.”

A little paranoid, you looked around, fearful that someone might spot Eddie’s van here. The sun had already set about half an hour ago, so the dark of night was at least a mild comfort to you, and it didn’t appear as if anyone else was nearby. Though, from experience, you knew that there may be a few straggles that could arrive late or frisky couples leaving early to fuck in the back of their cars. As you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, you met Eddie’s eyes with an unsure look - one of both worry and intrigue - and so he raised his brows, patiently waiting for your decision.

Shit, you really didn’t hate the idea. In fact, the selfish side of you loved it. Duncan, of all people, could more than afford to replace a set of tires, and you’d been desperately trying to think of ways to get back at him since that stupid pep assembly. And sure, you’d driven after a couple of drinks or trespassed onto properties in the middle of the night, so you weren’t exactly a stranger to bad behavior, you were far from a goody two-shoes. But damaging someone’s vehicle was a different story entirely, a different level of rebelliousness, and the thought caused your heart to jump with anxiety, as much as it also amused you.

Taking your lack of response as an answer, Eddie nodded simply, turning his eyes back to the road, “We’ll go.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached over and grabbed his forearm, “Wait.” So, Eddie looked at you again, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes, something daring about his expression. You took a deep breath, mustering up your courage as you held his stare; despite the bubble of fear in your chest, you attempted to grin, “Let’s say hi.”

“Atta girl.” The smile that spread across Eddie’s lips was wicked yet endearing, his eyes shining with an excitement that you hadn’t seen before. Your nerves grew even as you felt your neck get warm. Eddie reached over and began digging around in the glove compartment in front of you, brandishing a butterfly knife after a few moments, “Which car?”

The ease with which he revealed the knife and asked the question was almost surprising - again, you were reminded that Eddie wasn’t always just a sweet and funny nerd, he was still a guy with a bit of a record. You began to look across the darkened parking lot, furrowing your brow in search of the familiar, flashy silver of Duncan’s coupe; your heart drummed heavily in your chest even as you tried to shove down your anxieties.

As you searched, Eddie pulled the van into one of the furthest possible spots from the school, haphazardly over the lines so the vehicle was angled for a quick getaway. God, this was stupid - you were practically praying for this to go well, hoping you two weren’t caught.

“He’s parked right near the gym.” You groaned in annoyance. Of course Duncan’s car was there, he probably arrived early to help set up for the dance. You met Eddie’s eyes with trepidation, to which he gave you a reassuring smile.

“You can still chicken out, if you want.” His words were taunting, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes - he wouldn’t judge you for backing out.

Again, you ignored your nerves as you attempted to smirk back at Eddie; if you didn’t focus too hard on what you were about to do, it would be so much easier to just do it. God, you wished you two had had a little more to drink before deciding to do this, “I can’t back out, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Then let’s go get ‘em.” Eddie encouraged while shutting off the engine, climbing out of the van quickly and spinning back around to give you an insistent look. It was now or never, so before you could overthink it, you jumped out of the van and quickly made your way to Eddie’s side. He promptly began a brisk walk towards the gym, so you followed close behind, your adrenaline kicking in the closer you got to Duncan’s car.

Once there, you two crouched, forcing you to fuss with your skirt again - god, this really wasn’t the right outfit for this kind of shit. Eddie pulled the knife from his pocket and flicked it open with a well-practiced flourish, to which you grinned in amusement.

“Show off.” You whispered, although it almost seemed silly to keep your voice low, considering no one was around. Just to rub it in, Eddie began to flip the knife around, the blade moving quick enough that you couldn’t quite see how he was managing it.

“Don’t sound so jealous.” He teased before carefully grabbing the blade, holding the knife out towards you. You grabbed the handle, testing the weight while finding the best grip, “You know how to use that?”

You scoffed, looking around yourself again cautiously, “You know I don’t.”

Eddie smirked before pointing at the nearest tire, shuffling closer to you, “Come on, lemme show you.”

He set a hand on your shoulder, gently moving your body until you were at what must have been the best angle for slashing tires. Now, your back was to Eddie, and he came up close behind you just like he had back at the arcade; your cheeks flushed a little, as somehow this felt even more intimate than that. Because you were both haunched low to the ground, Eddie had to spread his knees to fit around you, practically engulfing you. You could feel his chest almost on your back, his breath brushing your ear, as he set his hand atop yours that was holding the blade. His fingers gripped yours comfortably as he began explaining in a low voice.

“It’ll take more force than you think.” He began to guide your hand, using the tip of the blade to point at different spots on the tire, “It’s not a balloon, okay. You wanna puncture near the rim, not the center - it’s thinner and impossible to fix. Don’t get too close, and be quick about it.”

As if reconsidering his own instructions, Eddie brought his hand down from your shoulder to rest on your hip, shuffling the both of you back a few extra inches. Your body jolted, hairs raising at the touch, which caused you to furrow your brow and pull yourself together - the hell was that about?

“You ready?” Eddie asked while quickly looking around one more time to make sure no one could see you two. You nodded, and so once he was repositioned, Eddie gripped your hand a little tighter and rapidly slashed the tire in one clean stroke. Although you were startled by the impact, the tire didn’t make nearly as much noise as you had anticipated - he was right, this was nothing like a balloon.

An eager, wicked smile graced your lips as you turned your head to look at Eddie, and this time - unlike the arcade - you did, in fact, bump foreheads. But both of you were far too excited to care, quickly laughing it off before Eddie pulled you towards the next tire. He removed his hands from you once he had you in position, clearly setting you free to do the damage yourself.

“Don’t slash all four - three means no insurance, he’ll have to pay outta pocket.”

You nervously look between Eddie and the tire, unsure if you could do this on your own. But, god, you were eager to do more damage, your excitement and adrenaline continuing to grow; there was something so incredibly therapeutic and freeing about exacting your revenge on Duncan this way.

So, you firmly set your jaw, which was challenging considering the desperate temptation to keep grinning like a Cheshire cat. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you aimed the blade in the same way that Eddie had, not allowing yourself too much time to think as you slashed quickly.

To your surprise, you managed to cut the tire quite effectively, hearing the air spew out in the same way that it had on the first go. You turned to smile eagerly at Eddie again, who looked far too proud of you. After a moment, he waved his hand to hurry you onto the final tire, which you promptly approached, repeating the same motion one final time.

You nearly laughed with how giddy you were, but before you could even begin to celebrate your victory, Eddie pulled you up to your feet, forcing you to run back to the van hand-in-hand. Neither of you said a word to each other until you were safely in your seats, Eddie quickly zipping out of the parking lot as you shared a near maniacal laugh. The sound of each other’s excitement was far too encouraging, causing the laughter to progressively get more and more wild until you finally had to take a breath and calm down.

“Jesus, how are you better at slashing tires than you are at a round of Donkey Kong?” You smiled from ear to ear as Eddie laughed again, enjoying just how exhilarated he sounded. So, he was thinking about the arcade, too?

You continued to laugh rather than give him a response, unable to contain your glee at the crazy thing that you’d just done. With your energy spiked, you quickly chugged down the remainder of your drink before caving in and grabbing a beer for yourself.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Once you were on the road winding around Lovers’ Lake, you couldn't help but laugh, shooting Eddie a suggestive grin, “What, trying to get frisky or something? What are we doing here?”

He shot you a look from the corner of his eye while finishing off his second beer, tossing the empty bottle thoughtlessly to the floor, “This is where Rick lives.”

“No shit?” You blew air between your lips, clearly not believing that a 20-something drug dealer could afford a house in this neighborhood.

“No, I’m just lying, we’re actually at Lovers’ Lake for a big old orgy.” Eddie teased with a scheming look, although a wide smile broke out across his lips a moment later. Refusing to be out done, you put on a faux look of consideration, finishing your own drink as well.

“Oh, now that’s much better than a school dance.” The two of you grinned conspiratorially as Eddie finally pulled into a driveway crowded with cars.

As you looked up to study the house through the windshield, Eddie grabbed the opened case of beer and stepped out of the van, coming around to your side and opening the door. You accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead you through the cluster of cars and up to the front door. Before you were even on the front porch, the smell of weed hit you as if there was a joint in your own hand, the loud music vibrating the windows of the house.

Eddie let you both in without knocking, the haze of smoke even heavier than you anticipated as you were greeted by a chorus of “hellos.” You tried your best to hold in a cough as smoke got in your eyes, Eddie’s fingers gripping yours a touch tighter as he tugged you past unfamiliar faces and towards the kitchen. As you let yourself be pulled along, you spotted Eddie’s bandmates clustered together on one of the couches, talking animatedly about something as if the party wasn’t happening around them.

In the kitchen, Eddie set the case of beer alongside a variety of other alcohol, continuing to pull you behind him as he looked over all the options available. He picked one up and held it out to you, raising his brow as if to ask if it was something you’d drink. You accepted it with a faint grin, not at all concerned with what the beverage actually was.

“Trying to get me drunk, Munson?” You teased, your eyes drifting towards a group of people that just entered the kitchen. Unconsciously, you must have made a face, because Eddie pulled you a step closer to him with a reassuring laugh.

“Just making sure you have fun tonight.” He grabbed another beer for himself before ducking his head close to yours, “And I wanna see if you get violent like you did at the bar.”

“Hey, that was self defense!” You stole your hand back so you could crack open your can, leaning back against the counter as you took a swig, “Unless someone here starts acting up, I won’t be hitting anyone.”

Eddie smirked, “Well, with this bunch…”

You gave him a warning glare, “If anyone touches me, I swear to god--”

With a chuckle, Eddie set a soothing hand on your shoulder, “Calm down, princess, you’ve got nothing to worry about tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You better be telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His deep brown eyes were serious, his stare practically burning into you. There was something about it that made you nervous the longer you stared back, so you took a quick drink to pull yourself together.

“Just to everyone else, right?” You smirked a little, hoping that you played off your nerves well enough. God, you didn’t know what was with you tonight. Eddie mirrored your expression, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes; he looked you up and down for a brief moment.

“Just everyone else.” He repeated before grabbing your hand again and dragging you back towards the crowded living room. It was almost instant the way his energy changed into something even more high energy once you two were surrounded by more people, and as you approached his friends, you looked around at everyone else, trying to get a better sense of the crowd here.

Aside from your group, all the other partygoers looked to be in their 20s, hell, maybe even 30s, and it felt odd to be amidst so many strangers rather than peers. After you met eyes with one guy, he looked at your legs in a lewd way that you didn’t appreciate, so you glowered back with a threatening glare, pressing closer to Eddie. Another couple people greeted Eddie with recognition, but he didn’t bother introducing them to you - he knew you well enough by now to recognize that you weren’t quite ready to socialize. Considering how weak your first two drinks were, you needed at least one or two more before you were even interested in meeting any new people.

Spotting you and Eddie, the boys attempted to make some room on the couch, but you waved it off dismissively, preferring to stand for the time being. Thoughtlessly, you tucked yourself into Eddie’s side a little, feeling him glance curiously at you in response.

With their fearless leader now present, the group began an excited discussion about Dungeons and Dragons, but the subject was lost on you within less than a minute. You resigned yourself to drinking and people watching, tuning out the conversation as your eyes traveled around the room. In one cluster of people a blunt was being passed around; off in the corner, a couple was haphazardly making out; back in the kitchen, the group of boys from earlier were snorting something that definitely wasn’t flour.

This was just like all the other parties you’d been to through the years, the only difference being that you weren’t familiar with this crowd in the slightest. No, you were used to parties where you knew most of the faces, parties in fancy mansions or summer homes, parties where you were still top of the food chain. Here, you meant nothing to most of these people, and they meant nothing to you, which provided its own odd sense of comfort. Although you were still tense thanks to this new environment, you allowed your shoulders to relax a little.

“What do you mean the Thing is a remake?” Eddie asked next to you, causing you to quickly whip around and join the conversation. You gave him a stunned look, crossing your arms judgmentally but carefully so as not to spill your drink.

“Everyone knows that.” You respond as if offended that he wasn’t aware, drawing the group’s attention to you in surprise.

“I didn’t.” Jeff admitted, to which you made a stunned face. The group had a few new additions to it since you last paid attention, and practically everyone appeared to be surprised by what you said. You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“I mean, it may as well be an original considering how kitschy the old movie is.” You started, taking a large sip of your drink, “I bet none of you knew it was a book, either.”

As they all shook their heads, you made an exasperated motion with your hands, turning to Eddie for his reaction. But you were surprised to see the amusement on his face, which made you quickly realize that he brought up a horror movie on purpose. You smacked his chest while fighting back a grin, causing him to laugh.

“You set me up!”

“They didn’t believe you were a horror fan!” He defended himself, pointing at the group to shift the blame. They all looked perhaps a little nervous, as if you might turn your attitude on them, “Ask her about Michael Myers, she’s got lots of opinions about him.”

You tried to insist that they don’t get you going on the subject, as if your love of horror was some dirty little secret to be kept. But the intrigued looks on their faces gave you brief pause; once Gareth asked you a question about the rest of John Carpenter’s work, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut.

So, the horror debate began, everyone chiming in on the quality of Season of the Witch or the scares in the Fog. The night went on much this way, everyone talking and drinking, arguing and laughing. Eventually, someone had brought the group a joint, and at that point you were already drunk, so you definitely smoked far more than you should have.

A little later in the evening, Rick announced that he had a bonfire going outside, and so you were dragged out by Eddie, who apparently couldn’t resist a good fire. Some of the partygoers took to jumping in the lake, with or without swimsuits, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the disgusted look you gave some of the nude swimmers.

“I’m gonna puke.” You joked, although Eddie momentarily believed you, trying to pull you to your feet so he could help you to the bathroom or behind a bush. This sent you into a fit of laughter, teasing him about being such a good boyfriend; were you getting drunk enough that you were becoming unclear, or had Eddie become drunk enough that he couldn’t pick up on your sarcasm?

As the night wore on, partygoers began to slowly disperse, some heading out while others chose to return to the house. The water must have been feeling colder, because everyone had stopped going in after a while. Eddie had attentively gotten the both of you drink after drink, doing so at a steady enough pace that you didn’t realize how drunk you were until it was too late; and once you were drunk, you could never say no to getting even drunker.

At some point, Jeff let you both know he was taking the other guys home, which led to you grabbing Eddie’s wrist so you could check the time, realizing that somehow it was already well past midnight. When Eddie asked if you were ready to go, too, your quick and aggressive “no” amused him far more than it normally would have. Clearly, you were both drunk.

You couldn’t remember when you had dragged Eddie to his feet and insisted he walk with you, but evidently you had, because he laughed again when you accused him of it instead.

“We could probably use a walk, I need to sober up.” Eddie added after explaining that this late night trek was your idea, “Gotta get us home somehow.”

You two followed a path along the lake, stumbling and tripping into each other thanks to the dark and your drunken strides. You were tempted to grab Eddie to keep yourself steady, but you refrained from doing so.

“I don’t wanna go home.” You slurred with a childish tone, hearing a slight laugh from Eddie, “Not like they want me there, anyway.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie turn to give you a look, “That can’t be true.”

Now, you shot him a look, although it was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out his features. You shook your head, “You haven’t met my parents.”

“So?” You saw him shrug then stumble over a branch a moment later, “If they really didn’t want you there, you’d know. Speaking from experience.”

You gasped smally in realization - god, you were such a bitch, complaining about your parents when you didn’t even know Eddie’s own situation. Maybe he was lucky you were drunk right now, because the instant guilt you felt wasn’t common for you.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” You reached out for his hand and gave it a small squeeze, “You must think I’m the worst.”

He hummed a little before tugging you into his side, comfortably resting his arm over your shoulder despite the fact that no one was around to see you together.

“I didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “You’re allowed to complain about your parents, I don’t mind. It's been so long since I’ve seen mine that they never cross my mind.”

You sighed deeply, still feeling guilty. Tentatively, you snaked your arm around Eddie’s middle so that it wouldn’t be awkwardly hanging between you two, “Still, I shouldn’t bitch about mine when yours aren’t around.”

You felt Eddie shrug, “I’ve got Wayne, I don’t need them.”

A small smile graced your lips, and so you looked back up at Eddie again, actually able to make out his features now that you were close enough. He, too, had an easy, drunken smile on his lips, and for whatever reason you couldn’t help but stare, enjoying how he looked in the moonlight. You took in the slight bounce of his curls, the way his lashes shined in the pale light, the way his smile flattered his lips. You had to force yourself to look away, and briefly two thoughts were competing in your mind: Eddie was good looking, in his own way, and there was no reason for you to find his looks appealing.

As your gaze trailed across the rippling lake, you thoughtlessly, drunkenly blurted out, “I think my dad’s having an affair.”

Eddie whipped his head to level you with a surprised look - was he taken aback by the statement itself or the all too casual way in which you said it? You glanced up at him again, briefly shrugging as if what you said was perfectly normal. When Eddie raised his brows - a silent request that you elaborate - you jutted your lower lip in brief consideration.

“Let’s turn around, I want another drink.” You dipped out from under Eddie’s arm, spinning around to head back in the direction of Rick’s house. Eddie followed suit.

“You trying to distract me or yourself?” He questioned, sticking his hands in his pockets. You shot him a slight glare, tripping over a rock in the process. Before you could go crashing down to the ground like an idiot, Eddie helped steady you, wrapping his arm around you again in hopes that it would keep you from falling on your face. Your cheeks were already warm thanks to the alcohol, but now they were burning with embarrassment as you glowered at the path in front of you.

The walk back to the house was silent, Eddie sitting you down by the slowly dying bonfire before he ran inside. Only a small group still lingered by the burning embers, so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they didn’t spare you a second glance. You stared into the flames thoughtlessly until Eddie returned, offering you a bottle that you happily accepted.

“So,” Eddie sat next to you on the small bench, bumping your knee with his, “You think your dad’s cheating?”

You rolled your eyes as you took a large swig; your smile was unamused as you met his gaze, shaking your head, “We’re not gonna talk about it, Eddie.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, mulling something over with those glossy, drunken eyes for a few moments, “I like that you’re using my name now.”

You made a bit of a face before realizing he was right - you had been using his first name nearly all night, weirdly enough, “Huh… I didn’t notice.”

He grinned, looking you up and down fondly, “Guess that means you like me, doesn’t it?”

You smiled humorously, “Well, yeah, we already talked about that, like, a week ago.”

Eddie studied your face for just a moment, “So… we’re friends?”

Your expression brightened as you leaned your shoulder against his, “Yeah, we also established that.”

You took another drink, absentmindedly fussing with a loose thread on Eddie’s frayed jeans while your eyes studied the fire again. On the other side of the circle, the group of strangers rose to their feet and returned to the house, still seeming entirely unaware of you or Eddie. You watched them go, hearing the brief sound of music drifting towards you as they opened the back door; your gaze drifted to Eddie’s hands, watching as he fidgeted with one of his rings. You realized that his foot was bouncing a little, and you paused the hand that had been toying with the fabric of his pants. You furrowed your brow - was he nervous about something?

Wordlessly, you put your drink in Eddie’s hand, prompting him to look at you again, “I have to drive us, remember?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Didn’t Rick say anyone who needed to stay the night can? I don’t wanna be drunker than you tonight.”

“Too late.” Eddie teased, but nonetheless took a quick sip, “You’re a lightweight, princess, you’ll always be drunker than me.”

You grinned, “Whatever, so long as you’re drunk, too, right?”

“If I drink, will you talk to me about your dad?” You groaned at his insistence, taking the bottle back from him.

“Why do you care so much about that?”

Eddie shrugged, “You don’t talk a lot about personal stuff; you threw that out there and then tried to act like it wasn’t anything. Call it curiosity.”

You leaned towards Eddie a little, “Talking about personal stuff leads to pity or guilt or… something. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, most of all you.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, turning his face towards the flames. Again, you caught yourself studying him, the shine of his eyes, the shape of his nose; the way the firelight danced on his face was damn flattering.

“A question for a question, then, does that seem fair?” He looked back towards you, recalling your first ‘date’ with one another.

An eager grin crossed your face, “Answer the question or take a shot?”

Eddie, too, smiled at the suggestion, even as he shook his head at your insistence to keep drinking, “Fine, but I’m limiting your shots, otherwise you won’t answer a damn thing.”

He stood before also pulling you to your feet, guiding the both of you up to the back porch. Once you were seated, Eddie ran back inside again, and you watched through the window as he grabbed a new bottle of booze and maneuvered around other party guests in search of a shot glass. He returned a minute later, sitting close to you.

“You first.” Eddie offered while carefully trying to pour the first shot. Nonetheless, he still managed to spill a few small drops on your knee, which you brushed away with the side of your hand, too drunk to care about how sticky your skin felt.

You hummed in consideration, “Seeing as you’re so curious about my parents, where are yours?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m only answering if you promise to actually explain yourself when I ask my question.”

“That’s not how this game works.”

“You’re avoidant, it wouldn’t be fair if I poured my heart out for nothing.” He taunted with a challenging look in his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, to which he grinned largely.

“Thank you, is that so hard?” You glared smally, but Eddie was unphased as he playfully nudged you, “I don’t want you to pity me, either, okay? I’ve worked through this shit already. Mom died when I was… I dunno, three? Four? It’s been long enough that I don��t remember her at all. Dad ran off a couple years after that and left me with Wayne.”

You stared at each other for a few long moments, your eyes soft as you tried to imagine little Eddie dealing with that shit at such a young age. His brows went up as if to remind you not to feel sorry for him, so you nodded; he assessed you for a second longer.

“So, why do you think your dad’s cheating?”

“‘Why’ as in what's his reason or ‘why’ as in what’s my proof?”

Eddie sighed deeply, trying his very best not to smile at you, “Both, you smart ass.”

You couldn’t help but grin cheekily at his reaction, taking a moment to consider your answer. As you did, you once again found your hand on Eddie’s leg, fussing with the rip at the knee.

“He’s never around. Always says he’s working late or meeting a business partner or spending the weekend with friends. Doesn’t even spend time with my mom anymore. Honestly, I don’t think they ever had a good relationship - I think he just liked mom ‘cause she was pretty… And the lipstick I saw on his collar was a shade my mom would never wear…”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the response, grateful that you actually gave him an honest, straight answer. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be taking shots, you still took a large drink from the bottle in your hand. You didn’t want to linger on your family, so you moved on quickly.

“You ever had a real girlfriend before?”

“Only fake ones.” His quick response made you roll your eyes as you nudged him with your elbow. You then comfortably rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder, keeping your face turned up to watch his, causing him to laugh nervously, “No, um… there was one - hell, two - chicks that were almost something, but no.”

“That’s surprising.” Eddie’s brow shot up curiously, so you shrugged simply, “I just figured weird girls would be into you.”

It was clear on his face that Eddie wasn’t sure whether or not to take that as a compliment, “Only weird girls?”

You gaped at him for a moment as you tried to find the proper explanation, as much as drunk you just wanted to blurt out whatever came to mind first, “I just mean… you’re nice, you’re attentive, you’re attractive. You seem like the kinda guy who would make any normal girl… happy.”

Eddie’s expression stayed twisted in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were - and weren’t - saying, his cheeks tinged with pink, “And what do you consider a normal girl? Not a… popular chick? Or a princess like you?”

His question was pointed, flustering you, so you quickly sat back up and shrugged with something of a defensive face; you did not want to get into a drunken debate with him right now, “I don’t know, Eddie. Just… a girl.”

Eddie stared at you a moment longer, but soon shook his head and attempted to move away from the subject, his eyes conveying something that you couldn’t make sense of right now, “Do you miss any of your exes?”

You immediately laughed, unable to contain your amusement at the question, all too happy to forget the brief moment of awkwardness between you two. Eddie couldn’t help but grin along with you, “Hell no. They never even lasted long enough for me to think I loved them, how could I miss them?”

“You never loved any of them?” Eddie seemed surprised, so you shook your head, “Were there any you… almost loved?”

“Hmm, you’ll have to wait, it’s my turn to ask the question.” You responded cheekily. You barely considered what you wanted to ask next before grinning, “So, no girlfriends, but you’ve had sex, right?”

Eddie’s expression faltered a little, much to your surprise. For a moment, you stared at each other, Eddie in consideration and you in anticipation. You couldn’t help your surprise when he opted to down the shot just a moment later - you hadn’t thought that there’d possibly be a question that Eddie wouldn’t answer, you saw him almost as an open book in many ways.

Did that mean he hadn’t had sex? Or is it just something he didn’t want to discuss with you? Maybe the story was embarrassing or painful? Suddenly, you were all too curious about why Eddie wouldn’t answer, but you had to refrain from pushing the subject, else you two might get into a spat.

And so, your game continued, the two of you answering questions and taking shots, getting into the occasional debate about a stupid inquiry or a thoughtless comment. You eventually abandoned the game aspect and simply returned to talking, absorbed in conversation and finally slowing down your drinking. You stopped keeping track of just how much you both had a while ago, your blurry vision and slurring voice more than enough to convince you that you were drunk off your ass.

It had gotten so late that you both realized at some point the music had stopped playing inside, that the lights had been mostly turned off, that drunken conversation was no longer occurring from anywhere around you. You tried looking at Eddie’s wrist watch again, but it was pretty much impossible for you to actually see the time - needless to say, that was your cue that you two needed to call it a night.

So, you stood, balancing yourself with your hands on Eddie’s shoulders as your head spun, which made you giggle a little. Eddie waited to rise to his feet until you looked steady, slowly standing and keeping his hands on you to ensure neither of you went toppling to the ground. You continued to laugh as you stared at each other for a few long moments until Eddie finally began to guide you into the house.

Once inside, you whispered that you needed to use the restroom, so Eddie led you there, trying to look around the house and find a place for you to sleep as he waited. When you exited the bathroom, he wasn’t there to help you stumble your way through the mostly dark house, so with a pout you looked around yourself, poking your head into the other doors around you to see if there were any free beds to crash in.

“Eddie,” You drunkenly whined, walking back down the hall in his direction. He held a finger to his lips, instructing you to be quiet and not wake the others. Once you reached him, you delicately grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper, “All the beds are taken.”

Eddie sighed to himself while looking around at all the partygoers sleeping in various spots of the living room. He didn’t know how late (or early) it was, but he could tell you were growing exhausted, the booze and weed finally catching up to you. He was tired as all hell, too, but unfortunately you two were beaten to all the comfy places to rest, too caught up in conversation to realize that the party had ended a while ago.

Eddie met your tired eyes thoughtfully, taking you in. In his own drunken state, he was nearly distracted by your pretty features; he’d always known you were pretty, it was damn obvious, but usually he was able to keep it from distracting him. As you two stood close together, illuminated by only the kitchen light streaming into the room, his stomach flipped at the arch of your brow, the curve of your nose, the pout of your lips. Eddie had to shake away the distraction of you and focus.

He put his hand on top of yours - the one that still held his arm - as he whispered, “Come on, I can make room in the van.”

Eddie began to lead you from the house, scooping up an extra couple pillows and blankets that were scattered about the living room as you trekked through it. You let yourself be pulled along without question, helping Eddie with the pillows before you tip-toed out the door.

The air was brisk by the lake, causing you to inhale sharply at the unexpected temperature - god, the van was going to be freezing, wasn’t it?

As Eddie threw open the back doors and began shifting things around the bed of the van, you watched him absentmindedly, drunkenly humming some nonsensical tune to yourself. You couldn’t see the way Eddie grinned at the sound. Of course, he already knew you were a lightweight, but considering how well you paced yourself tonight, he hadn’t noticed just how drunk you’d gotten. All the niceties and relaxing of your shoulders should’ve been a dead giveaway, but he was too caught up in those moments to think about it.

Once he finally made the back of the van as cozy as he possibly could, Eddie spun around and presented it to you as if it were a god damn chariot. You giggled smally.

“All yours, princess.” He stepped aside to let you climb in, so you sat and began to remove your shoes.

An inquisitive look furrowed your brows, “You’re staying with me, right?” Eddie shrugged simply, and momentarily your tone grew a little stronger, “I am not sleeping in this van alone.”

“What, you scared?” You narrowed your eyes at Eddie before he looked past you and at the cramped bed of the vehicle, “You know it’s gonna be a tight fit.”

An abrupt laugh escaped your mouth, and as Eddie looked at you in surprise, you raised your brow suggestively before returning your attention to your shoes. Sure, he’d heard you make sexual jokes often enough before, so he shouldn’t be surprised; maybe it was how you laughed, or maybe he was just too drunk. Either way, he felt the back of his neck grow warm.

You set your shoes aside before looking back up at Eddie, pulling your stiff jacket off your shoulders. You looked as if you’d already forgotten the silly little exchange you just had.

“Come on, Eddie, I can see you’re tired.” You got up on your knees and shuffled across the back of the van, setting your belongings in the front seat. You spun back around to face Eddie, sitting cross-legged despite the fact that you were wearing a skirt; you figured it was much too dark for Eddie to see anything anyway.

With a sigh, Eddie tugged off his own vest and jacket, ignoring the way you sat before him - he was pretty wiped now that you mentioned it. So, you’d sleep next to each other? You two had already done that before. You were both drunk and cold and tired, after all, so what could possibly go wrong?

Eddie crawled into the van and shut the doors behind him, leaving the two of you in near darkness. He shuffled towards the front of the van as well, bumping into your shoulder in the process and making you giggle. He felt a quick surge of warmth at the sound, but quickly tried to shake off the feeling.

Eddied added his things to the front seat, his shoes and jacket joining yours before he began fussing with the blankets, attempting not to bump you again. As you both tried to settle in and get comfortable, it became clear the van was going to be a little cramped considering that you two were trying to fit between junk and old equipment that was pushed as far to the side as they’d go. You kept brushing elbows or knocking knees, which kept making you drunkenly giggle, until finally you were both settled into some semblance of a comfortable position.

“Eddie…” You whispered, rolling on your side to face him; he had his back to you as if to maintain some propriety, much like your sleepover last week. He sighed before shuffling around once again to face you, nearly taken aback but just how close you actually were. Was there actually that little space or were you closer than you needed to be?

“Yes?” He whispered back, although he realized there was no need for either of you to be so quiet. The corner of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

Your eyes had adjusted well enough to the lack of light in the van, and so you simply stared at Eddie for a few moments, taking in what features you could see. Light from the moon reflected on his hair and vaguely illuminated his eyes, shadows accentuating the planes of his face. You smiled fondly at him. Once again, your drunken mind was realizing Eddie’s good looks while also trying to resist them. He was far more good looking than people, including you, gave him credit for.

You giggled to yourself, feeling warmth in your cheeks, which caused Eddie to give you one of his rascally grins that you were just thinking about. If only he knew you were laughing because of his lovely face.

“Did you need something?” He urged, still waiting for you to actually speak.

“It’s quiet.” You answered simply, causing him to now laugh, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah, because we’re trying to sleep.” He teased, rolling onto his back with a content sigh. You huff to yourself, pushing back the blankets you’d just settled into; Eddie rolled his eyes at how antsy you were all of a sudden Was this yet another drunken habit he’d have to keep track of?

“Can I turn on the radio?” You began to shuffle up towards the front, but Eddie reached out for you blindly, managing to grab your leg; lucky for both of you, it was dark enough that he couldn’t see up your skirt despite this angle.

“No, you’ll kill the battery.”

You huffed, turning your attention back to Eddie, “Cassette player?”

Eddie sighed, “Up front.”

He released your leg, and you crawled into the front of the van, found the player, and crawled back next to him. You set the cassette player on the floor between the front seats and hit play, not at all concerned about what was in the deck; so long as there was something playing, you’d be satisfied.

Eddie smiled as the music started - Dio, the Last in Line. One of his favorite albums, hence why it practically lived in this cassette player. He’d left it on the B-side from the last time he’d played it, and admittedly he was happy to see that you were content to listen to it.

You once again fussed with the blankets and pillows, settling in even closer beside Eddie, who hoped you’d finally relax. It took you a minute, but once you finally seemed to be mellowed out, Eddie closed his eyes, speaking softly, “Night.”

But instead of responding, you propped yourself up on your elbow again thanks to your sporadically firing thoughts, going back to studying his face. Eddie looked at you with a furrowed brow, wondering what the hell was going through your head and where all this energy came from. He had yet to see you act like this, so hyperactive and restless.

With your free hand, you reached towards Eddie impulsively, making him nervous as you ever so lightly brushed your fingertips through the ends of his hair. His eyes widened, nearly shrinking from your touch as you hummed to yourself as if in confirmation of something.

“Are you… okay?” He asked, grabbing your wrist delicately, which caused you to curl your fingers just a little.

“I wanted to know if your hair was soft.” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, continuing to fuss with the end of his curls, “I think the shampoo you’re using is too harsh.”

Eddie made a puzzled face, not prepared for that comment. Hell, he wasn’t prepared for any of what’s happened in the past couple minutes. You continued to play with his hair absentmindedly, rocking your head lightly to the music, and Eddie hated to admit that he enjoyed it. He knew that you weren’t aware of what you were doing, you’d proven yourself to be far too drunk for that, but he liked to think that you were enjoying this as well.

“What makes you say that?” Eddie asked gently, realizing he was leaning into your touch just a little. The faintest of laughs escaped you, and you tilted down a little closer to him.

“Your hair seems heavy.” You state simply - obviously that made sense to you, but Eddie still didn’t quite understand. Momentarily, he didn’t worry about you leaning closer because he was trying to understand what you meant by that.

“Heavy?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was bright as you leaned over him, assessing his hair with your hand, “Your product weighs it down.”

Eddie chuckled a little, loosening his grip on your wrist and lightly drawing his finger down your forearm. A content sigh escaped your lips, the feathery touch of his calloused hand sending a shiver up your spine. Your sound made Eddie realize what he was doing, and so he quickly stopped, feeling far too warm - why the hell did he do that? He suddenly grasped that his touch was far too intimate and personal, and although that didn’t seem to bother you right now, it certainly made him pause; he was not quite drunk enough to excuse that.

“Let’s worry about my hair tomorrow.” Eddie instructed while removing his hand from your arm; he needed to relax, he was getting far too worked up by your close proximity and your hooded eyes. He figured you didn’t mean to be so close and personal and touchy with him right now, you were simply drunk.

Despite Eddie’s words, you stayed put, continuing to fuss with his hair and study his face with drunken, unabashed fondness. You looked between his eyes, and only then did you realize just how close you were to him.

As the second track on the cassette started, you considered the look on Eddie’s face - there was something hesitant there, something taken aback. You were very much in his space, but that wasn’t a problem, right?

Well, no, but it was weird for you. Not that you were terribly concerned - you were far too crossfaded to think clearly right now. One second, the small, sober part of your brain wondered what the hell you were doing, but the next second your drunkenness won out and you didn’t give a damn. Right now, you didn’t have a care in the world, all your focus trained solely on Eddie.

You found yourself attempting to hum along to the song that you didn’t recognize - you’d have to ask Eddie what this was later, if you could actually remember it. And your humming caused him to give you that charming smile that you had slowly become fond of. It was different from the playful grins, the mocking smirks, or the laughing smiles you saw regularly - this smile was more intimate, more personal, reserved just for you.

You were so caught up in that sweet smile that you didn’t realize at first that you were leaning in closer. Eddie didn’t seem to notice it either, as if he were hypnotized by the intensity of your gaze, by the softness of your touch and the closeness of your body. The only hint that Eddie was aware of what you were doing was the ever so subtle sigh that left his parted lips, which finally drew your attention away from his eyes.

His lips looked so damn plush, so damn inviting. Have you ever noticed that before? At this moment, it seemed impossible to ignore, so how had you been so unaware of it?

Eddie looked so damn… kissable.

And with all sober thoughts pushed to the wayside, you decided you needed to find out if that theory was true.

You closed the small gap between you two, pressing your lips to Eddie’s with an experimental softness, a tentative longing. A low, surprised moan rumbled in Eddie’s chest as you felt his body go rigid beneath yours; for a brief moment, the kiss was nearly nonexistent, as if Eddie was hesitant to reciprocate. But within nearly the same breath, his fingers traced delicately along your arm again, causing you to shiver as you let out a sound of satisfaction.

Feeling Eddie relax against you, you curled your fingers tighter in his hair, kissing him more firmly and confidently. You lowered your body to rest comfortably in his side, your now free hand cupping the back of his neck as you hooked an ankle over his. Eddie’s lips were soft yet musky, firm yet unfledged; his light stubble tickled your upper lip, a subtle smoky smell clinging to his skin.

Realizing that you were practically holding your breath, you forced yourself to pull away from the kiss, breathing deeply against Eddie’s lips. There was barely any space between you two, breath mingling, chests heaving, lips brushing. You were nearly tempted to pull back further just so you could meet his deep brown eyes, but you didn’t dare move for fear that it would break whatever spell you were under.

You thoughtlessly licked your swollen lower lip, causing the tip of your tongue to graze along Eddie’s lips as well. A surprised groan leapt out of him, your body suddenly feeling taut and flushed in response; god, you wanted him to make that sound again.

You dug your fingers into the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him back towards you, your lips feverish and fierce as they pressed against his. This time, he reciprocated with aching curiosity, his gentle hands desperate as one cradled the back of your head and the other gripped the small of your back; as you pressed yourself flush against Eddie and rolled your hips, it caused the both of you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands cupped Eddie’s jaw excitedly, holding him close as you moved to straddle his waist. Another needy, amorous sound rose in his throat as you rolled your hips again, settling comfortably on top of him as you began to eagerly explore from his neck to his chest to his waist. You twisted his shirt in your fists as if you were afraid he’d pull back, kissing with even more sloppy feverishness.

Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, your body jolting under Eddie’s more tentative touch. The feel of his fingertips was oh-so light as he traced your arms, your spine, your exposed thigh. In response, you hungrily prodded at his lips with your tongue, excited by the low sound in his throat as he opened his mouth to you. You kissed Eddie fiercely as your hands returned to firmly gripping his jaw, keeping him there as if he were the air you breathed.

Continuing to rut slowly against him, a satisfied smile dared to interrupt your kiss as you felt Eddie growing hard beneath your hot center. Teasingly, you pulled your lips away from Eddie’s, his own chasing after yours in a way that made you grin with lustful satisfaction. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing heavily as your nose brushed against his. You slowly, gently dragged your lips across Eddie’s, over his hot cheek and up to his ear; his whole body shuddered beneath you as your breath tickled his skin.

“You’re good at this.” You drunkenly teased, voice low and breathy; you were certain you felt Eddie jolt again as he tried to catch his own breath. You turned to study him, awaiting some smart remark that never came; the look on Eddie’s face suggested he was too far gone to have any quips for you. You smiled again, brushing your lips against his cheek; you were tempted to keep taunting him, but became all too engrossed in watching him to even try.

Eddie’s parted lips were swollen, his breathing heavy as he stared up at the ceiling with a nearly stunned expression, trying to collect himself. His eyes bounced around as if in search of something, his hand unconsciously tracing invisible lines on your arm. You dragged your gaze down his throat - his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously - then to his chest, watching it deeply rise and fall. The smile hadn’t left your face, you realized as you brought your lustful gaze back up to his gentle face.

Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he finally met your eyes, looking so soft and unsure and questioning as he drank you in. Your grin widened fondly as you simply stared at one another, which encouraged Eddie to smile himself, albeit with some hesitation. Feeling the rapid beating of his heart against you, you slid a hand to rest on his chest, tearing your gaze away from his to watch your fingers brush delicate circles in his shirt.

Drunkenly, you were torn between wanting to relax against Eddie and wanting to go back in for another kiss; hell, you could probably make out with him all night if he’d let you. But even with intoxication clouding your head, you could see in his expression that he could only handle so much of you, that he might burst if you kept teasing him and feeling him and kissing him.

Again, the sober part of you briefly reared her head, desperately trying to make sense of the fact that you just kissed Eddie as if your life depended on it. Thinking about how wild that was, you couldn’t help but giggle, which drew his intense eyes back to yours. You raised a brow as you studied his features yet again, a happy look on your face.

“Our secret?” The words came out of your mouth without you being fully aware of them. Through your drunken haze, you could see the way his expression furrowed at the question, the way his eyes seemed to panic as if he were finally crashing back down to earth.

“‘Our secret?’” He repeated in a confused, gruff tone. You nodded simply, resting your head down beside his, feeling the tickle of his hair on your cheeks. You didn’t catch the way he had to collect himself, how he swallowed hard in disappointment before replying gently, “Yeah, okay…”

If you were sober, you would have seen the upset in his expression, heard the doubt in words. Of course, if you were sober this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. But because you were drunk - both from alcohol and from that kiss - you entirely missed the way Eddie’s energy deflated like a balloon.

Instead, you smiled wide like a drunken fool, sinking into the blankets and pillows beside Eddie with a sense of satisfaction. You kept one hand resting comfortably on his chest, your face nearly in the crook of his neck; you realized how exhausted you were now, the feeling having escaped you while you were absorbed in the sensation of Eddie’s lips against yours.

As a tired fog slowly began to encompass you, Eddie gently set his hand on top of yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. You closed your eyes with a comfortable sigh, letting Eddie’s steady breathing help lull you to sleep.

Just as you were on the brink of consciousness, you felt Eddie’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low as he gently muttered something that you couldn’t quite make out.

additional a/n: So uuuuuh surprise? 👀In case y'all missed it or were unsure, the song referenced in this chap is Mystery by Dio, which is one of my fav songs by the band and one I've associated with these two idiots for a while! Now, let's all scream and shout about this chapter together, because I'm SO eager to see what y'all think~

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie

@damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape

@fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola @sav12321

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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slutt4ellie · 5 months

Text

Fated Hearts Start With Fire

PT2 - Unforeseen Harmony

masterslist

PART 1 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5 // PART 6 // PART 7

Moving to a new city is tough, but it’s even harder when your roommate is a dick.

Summery - After moving in you find yourself distracted on why your roommate has this very prominent dislike when it comes to you?

Warnings -> Same mean Ellie / Reader is also rude / Alcohol usage / Mentions of previous relationships / Girl flirts with reader 🫣 / Jealousy (if u squint idk) / Slow burn!! / Toxic relationship /kissing / Smut in future chapters! / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC : 4.4k

(Not proofread)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes a few seconds!)

Fuck.

To say living with Ellie is “Hell”, that would be an understatement!

The whole interaction with her the day after she came home completely plastered, the one where she said you looked “shitty”, that was about 3 and a half weeks ago.

You didn’t even understand what the actual fuck was wrong with her! And sure that seems mean, you knew how it sounded! But she’s probably the most unreasonable person you’ve ever met.

She’d get pissed if you got up to early for your classes because the moving of you just simply walking “Woke her up!”

She constantly takes your food, drinks, snacks, whatever. Basically everything that was in the fridge, and purchased by you, also now happened to be hers!

And every time you brought up how it was rude or disrespectful she’d shut it down! Saying something along the lines of “Well I lived here first!”

Living in a place that was completely foreign to you, and having the worst possible fucking roommate unsurprisingly didn’t mix well!

It also didn’t help you had a grand total of 0 friends. You were shit at small talk and conversations, that was nothing new.

But then again you also knew staying in your shared apartment with Ellie. That wasn’t something you could deal with much longer, you just had to suck it up and talk to literally anyone except for fucking her.

So that’s what you did.

Walking to class was alright, the cold air hitting the back of your neck was extremely apparent but you sucked it up.

The sun was still struggling to make it past the clouds but to be fair it was the least of your concerns, because as of now you were making some genius plan to make some friends..!

You had Jess and Alex who are great. You wouldn’t trade them for the world. But even they knew you had to get out there more.

At least that’s what they’ve been texting you all morning. Stuff along the lines of “You got this!” and “Just try not to panic”

So you kept that plastered in the front of your mind as you continued to walk down the campus trail, there was music blasting in your ears, trying to come up with conversation starters till there was a slight tap on your shoulder.

A girl, she was taller then you, had brunette hair, blue eyes, and a tiny smile on her face.

Her hand slightly moves signalling you to basically take out your headphones which you complied. You assumed it was already weird that you were staring at her for at least 5 seconds.

She spoke softly. “Hi..!” You just give her a smile back, thinking something along the lines of “Who the fuck is this??”.

“H-Hi?” You stuttered out a confused tone leaking which she clearly picked up on because she followed by saying. “I’m super fucking lost right now and you seemed approachable!” She chuckles letting out a quick “I’m a transfer student, and my class is 182..? Do you mind?” She holds out her map which shows the campus.

This leads you to quickly smile back. “Shit, I’m 182 as well. I can just walk you if you want?”

This has her immediately nod and you see the relief all over her face. “Fuck, thank you. I have no clue how to read paper maps”

“No?” You smile at her words and she follows up by shaking her head.

“Never thought I’d be in this situation, so no!” She smiles at you, causing you go stumble over your words.

“I-I uh didn’t get your name?“ You choke out.

“Fuck right! Mia, sorry!“ Mia smiles holding out her hand to shake.

You hold out your hand and shake it back. Quickly telling her your name.

༻♡︎༺

You learned that apparently during Mia’s transfer, the papers got all mixed up, which is now leading her 3 weeks after the term had started.

You and her quickly found yourselves sat beside each other during the whole lecture. (Which you hardly followed since you guys were talking a shit ton.)

And by the time it finished she didn’t hesitate to get your number, she was definitely way more bold then you..

You couldn’t tell if Mia was being simply platonic or if maybe she was trying to flirt?

You were sorta bad at signals and so when she asked you to do homework today, specifically together, quickly calling it a “Date!” you decided to deem it as non-platonic.

So here you are now walking back to your apartment shoulder to shoulder, talking about school, friends, where you both grew up, shit like that. Really just getting to know each other during the walk

It didn’t take long till you reached your apartment fumbling over the key hole as you unlocked it giving Mia a clear view of the auburn sat on your couch.

When Mia sees Ellie sat on the couch she quickly talks “Oh is she your?-“

You assumed Mia was going to finish off the sentence with “girlfriend” which had you almost shout out a quick no, because Ellie. Gross.

But! You decided as a calmer approach “No!- No we’re roommates! I- It was like an ad and shit so..”

Mia then smiles and nods looking straight at your. “Okay cool!”

Did Mia care if you had girlfriend??

But before you could even fucking talk, Ellie turns around, this makes you assume she was probably going to the kitchen, but as soon as her green eyes hit Mia’s then yours she just sorta stops. Spitting out a harsh.

“People are desperate now!” Ellie chuckles continuing to pick up where she left off and walking to the kitchen. Grabbing a few snacks.

Your eyes land on the side profile of Mia’s, her eyebrows are furrowed, she knew the comment was directed towards you. Because Ellie’s eyes stayed on you when she said it.

Mia was about to say something but you quickly grab her hand intertwining your fingers with hers.

You’ve never had a girlfriend. You didn’t know if this was normal to even do considering you and Mia were probably the furthest from dating, but you just wanted to draw her attention off of someone like Ellie.

You got the impression Ellie wouldn’t turn down a fight, which see showed with you, and those just all happened to be verbal.

You didn’t exactly want to see what the fuck would happen if Ellie got into a physical fight. Especially not with a girl which is showing at least some interest in you?

Mia’s eyebrows drop, no longer furrowed, and you see a pink rise to her cheeks.

You clear your throat, because now you’re nervous having you hand intertwined with Mia’s. So you quickly disconnect the both of your hands before talking to her..

“We can uh-my room is just over her” You point and quickly lead Mia to your room avoiding Ellie’s gaze purposefully.

You open your bedroom door, you and Mia instantly stepping into your now properly decorated bedroom.

Having a bed which you lacked just 3 weeks ago.

Mia finds herself on your bed dropping her bag on the side of the frame. She scoots back pushing her back against the headboard.

She quickly started up conversations which you grazed over considering you now have a fucking person in your room. On your bed!

“Your room’s pretty” Mia smiles

“T-thank you!” You smile looking at her finally being able to bare proper eye contact “If you came her 3 weeks ago we would have been on the floor”

Mia laughs and let’s out a “Why??”

“I had no fucking bed! Since I travelled so far, they were losers and didn’t want me bringing my queen bed on the plane?” You chuckle obviously joking which prompts a laugh from Mia.

“Seems lame” Mia smiles and you finally sit beside her on the bed.

“Super lameeee” You drag out your “e” which now left you feeling super fucking lame, it made you cringe at yourself which you tried to laugh off.

Mia smiles and chuckles, grabbing her laptop which she conveniently already took out of her bag. “I don’t wanna do all this fucking work” Mia looks at you having the blood rush straight up to your cheeks.

“Y-yeah no me neither, I already have like 3 things I gotta work on.” You chuckle looking back at her.

Mia had almost 0 problem having her eyes glance down to your lips. Yet you fucking did.

I mean sure you obviously wanted her to kiss you but you had no fucking knowledge on what to do? But before you could even think about it, Mia’s lips find themselves right on yours holding your cheek softly.

You immediately respond kissing her back having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You were really just hoping your doing it right, but considering she’s not pulling back, you sorta come to the consensus it’s good enough!

You felt Mia’s tongue invite itself inside your mouth, her kisses now leaving and moving to your jaw and neck.

To say you were now just a bit nervous would be an understatement!

You obviously fucking liked Mia? You’d be dumb to not? But to be fair you didn’t even fucking know her middle name? Or really to much shit about her.

You didn’t know what this was? Like what if she just wants to hook up or something..! You obviously didn’t want that??

And she had to feel something was off because she pulls back her eyes now falling onto your face studying your face trying to read it. Quickly noticing how your eyes are planted on the ceiling.

“You okay..?” Mia ask having her hands drop from the back of your neck to your arms.

You didn’t even notice her lips where off your neck and jaw since you were doing your best to just disassociate.

“Hey..” Mia sits more up now her eyes meeting yours.

“W-what?” You stutter quickly swallowing the lump in your throat.

“You okay?” Mia says her eyes not leaving your face making sure she didn’t make you uncomfortable and accidentally do something wrong.

“Fuck- was I reading it wrong??” Mia ask, now starting to panic thinking she just kissed a straight girl or something?

“N-no! No! Fuck- no i’m sorry I just, I- I haven’t done this.??” You say spitting out not wanting Mia to leave or something.

“Like what? Shit with a girl” Mia says.

“At all.” You say really trying to have this justify and explain to her why the fuck you were practically tweaking out just from getting kissed.

“O-oh?” Mia says it surprised, now slowly fixing your shirt feeling bad. “Fuck i’m sorry”

Mia looks at you “I-if I knew I wouldn’t have like gone so fucking” Mia try’s to explain with her hands which failed causing you both to laugh.

“I-no your good. I just like- maybe slower.” you say looking at Mia thinking she’s gonna laugh. Not a lot of people go “slow” now, and you knew that.

“Slowwww” Mia smiles dragging out her words before softly kissing you again now not doing anything crazy like tongue, literally just kissing you.

༻♡︎༺

That was a crazy as it got. Literally just kissing which you appreciated. It also didn’t take long before the sky turned dark and Mia had to leave, you walked her out, kissed before she left and everything felt insanely intimate.

But just like in Ellie fashion she always had a whole lot to say. You hardly noticed her before she talked.

“I meant what I said by the way! Didn’t realize people were so fucking desperate” Ellie slightly laughs her hair falling over her face which she promptly moves.

You just look at her. “The fuck is your issue Ellie.” You say trying to shrug off her comments but it just doesn’t work.

“I don’t have a fucking issue, just think anyone would have to be insanely fucking desperate to go out with you, that’s all?” Her stupid fucking laugh echos your shared apartment.

“You always have a lot to say.” And you don’t even know what made you say the next sentence considering you knew hardly nothing about the situation. You had a lead, an idea of what it was so you took it.

“What happened with Cat Ellie? Dina and Jesse brought it up, fuck did she leave because of how fucking annoying you are or?”

It didn’t take long till her face dropped the smug smirk no longer planted on her face.

Guilt stuck you hard. Sure you didn’t like Ellie but the fact her eyes are glazing over, just from one fucking sentence means you probably crossed a line.

I mean was it fair she could say all this shit about you with nothing in return. Obviously no?

But then again you didn’t know what actually happened with this Cat? You knew it was some sorta “situation” at least that’s how Jesse worded it a few weeks ago. But then again it wasn’t your place to bring it up.

“Fuck you.” Ellie’s voice chokes up for the first time in god knows how long. She turns around. So clearly the Cat thing is personal! You quickly thought to yourself!

“Ellie..” You follow and she turns around and pushes you, which almost has you fall straight back.

“Fuck off!” Ellie says her voice now stern, fist clenching at her sides.

There was no doubt she was probably going to punch you, but luckily there was a knock on your guys door.

“Ellie let us innnnn!” Dina’s cheerful voice comes through the door.

Almost immediately Ellie walks over shoving you, in the process her shoulder comes slamming against yours which almost causes you to fall back.

You hear the door open and a pair of footsteps enter. Ellie doesn’t even bother to great them.

“Okayy? Rude” Dina chuckles thinking it’s just Ellie being Ellie.

But when Ellie also glances past her and sits on the couch. Dina starts to get a weird vibe.

Dina slowly turns her body towards you “Hey!”

You don’t even know what to reply with. You just let out a slight “Hi.”

Dina tilts her head, her eyes glancing from you back to Ellie. Both of your eyes seem heavy. Jesse quickly puts down alcohol and snacks on the kitchen counter.

Quickly Finding himself beside Ellie on the couch which she quickly shoves over to the furthest cushion, being the possible furthest away from him. Hardly matters though because she stands up. “The fuck?”

He mutters looking at Ellie’s body slowly leaving, trailing to her room.

“What happened” Dina says both her eyes flat on you.

“I-I brought up Cat.” You mutter out.

Just by the fact Dina’s eyes trail straight to Jesse and Jesse immediately stands up walking down the hall “Imma check on her”

Dina nods and looks back at you once again. “What’d you say…?” Dina’s tone is stern, her cheerful tone now lacking. She’s literally just trying to figure out what happened.

“I-I just, she was being m-mean to mi-mia and me-“ You try and spit out but Dina cuts you off clearly not trying to hear about someone she literally doesn’t know.

“Just what did you say!” Dina says fully over the rambling, she knows whatever the fuck you said must be bad because Jesse is still trying to get into Ellie’s room.

“I-I just said something like ‘did Cat leave you because you’re annoying’! I didn’t- I didn’t except shit. Like I didn’t except it to actually strike a nerve??” You quickly say looking down embarrassed of your words. “I brought yours and Jesses name up accidentally, I swear!” You quickly add.

“Shit..” Dina sighs rubbing her hand down her face letting out a groan. You don’t know the story and Dina’s trying to remember that.

Dina was about to talk more but you quickly cut her off. “I swear I didn’t- I didn’t except her to freak?”

Dina shakes her head. “You don’t know the story. Okay.”

You don’t even know why you care. I mean Ellie’s a dick, she’s been for the past 3 weeks. But you never wanted to actually hurt her? You wouldn’t consider yourself “mean”. But as much as you convince yourself you no longer seems if you care you just spit out.

“I- then tell me..the story?” You say.

2 months earlier.

(Ellie)

“Ellie” Dina says laying on Ellie’s bed looking at her.

Ellie’s spacing out looking at her celling.

“El!” Dina says a bit louder sitting up waving her hand over Ellie’s face having Ellie quickly snap out of it.

“Fuck yeah” Ellie says her voice cracking trying to form a smile which feels all to fucking forced..

“We should go out tonight. You know get out of the apartment that has Cat in it.” Dina says looking at Ellie’s facial expression. The idea seems uncomfortable. Going out without Cat at this point felt foreign...just weird…

“I don’t know.” Ellie fiddles with her hands instead of facing Dina’s brown eyes which feel like they’re piercing into her thoughts right now.

“It’s a break. I mean I could invite her?” Ellie suggest looking at Dina almost like she wants approval.

Dina knows the idea probably isn’t smart but she sorta shrugs. After all it’s just a break. Not a breakup.

“Yeah! I can bring Jesse too” Dina smiles suggesting looking at Ellie.

Ellie’s eyes finally light up like they used to.

“I’ll ask then!” Ellie quickly stands up smiling at Dina before leaving her bedroom which just a few nights ago, had Cat still sleeping in it.

—————————

The argument between Cat and Ellie was stupid. Ellie and Cat wanted to go do something special for their 1st year anniversary. They had an idea to go somewhere special, like a foreign country or something. Just to get out, spend quality time. Shit like that.

Then the first problem came. Ellie and Cat had two very fucking different budgets. Ellie has lived in New York for a bit and had a stable job.

A type of job she could live off of.

Then Cat. Cat definitely had a better job, she wasn’t shy to bring it up either, quickly pointing out all the places Ellie could realistically afford were “shitty” and “gross” instantly forming a fight.

“Why do you act like i’m not trying?” Ellie says looking at Cat tears already brewing on her lower eyelid..

“I’m not acting like anything Ellie?” Cat says scoffing sarcastically. Almost like she’s blaming Ellie. “I just think your job clearly isn’t paying enough.”

“Doesn’t it matter we’re going together?” Ellie says looking at back at Cat now standing up.

Cat follows up by standing in front of Ellie. “Ellie don’t pull that shit!” Cats tone is getting louder and she shakes her head fast.

“I’m not pulling anything! You’re acting like me not being able to afford places that are 700+ dollars is like i’m purposefully doing this!” Ellie’s tone is also getting but it has more cracks rather then Cats.

“Okay Ellie.” Cat says sarcastically just rolling her eyes, grabbing her bag.

Ellies eyes are shifting from Cats hands, to the clothes she’s grabbing, and back to the bag. “W-where are you going?”

Cat sighs and shakes her head. “I just want space. I’m gonna stay at a friends tonight.”

Ellies almost baffled. Confusion is flowing all throughout her brain. “Why?” Ellies eyes again are glossy. ‘this isn’t a breakup, this isn’t a breakup, this isn’t a breakup.’

“We clearly fucking need a break Ellie!” Cats words echo throughout Ellies brain..

“W-“ But before Ellie could even finish her sentence a slam of the front door rings Ellie’s ears and she’s now left alone in their shared bedroom.

—————————

Even though Dina thought it was stupid Ellie was shoulder to shoulder with Cat as they stand outside in the alley, which the club is left of.

Ellie’s eyes are the brightest they’ve been since that day. So even if Dina thinks Ellie even talking to Cat after the fight was dumb, if Ellie’s happy. That’s what matters.

The reason they were all outside the alleyway of the club is because Jesse is the only 21 year old in their whole group so he had let them all in through the back.

And as soon as the door opened and the music poured out Dina, Ellie, and Cat all entered.

It really didn’t take long till they were all drunk, they easily got served so they got loaded up fast with shots, the whole group downing them in mere minutes.

Ellie was enjoying her night, at the end of the day she was with Cat?

The girl she loved no matter what..

“I’m gonna go get us drinks!” Cat says talking into Ellie’s ear so she can hear over the loud music.

Ellie quickly gives Cat and thumbs up and a slight smile. “Okay!”

10 minutes go by, still no cat.

it’s been 10 minutes since Cats been gone, Ellie now just wants to make sure Cats okay? It shouldn’t take that long yet it was?

Ellie quickly taps Dina’s shoulder as she dances with Jesse. And leans into her ear “I’m gonna go find Cat! She’s been gone a bit!” Ellie says and Dina nods responding with a quick.

“Want me to come?” Dina smiles looking at Ellie.

Ellie shakes her head and smiles point at Jesse. “Nah! Enjoy dancing!”

Dina chuckle and nods watching as Ellie disappears in the crowd.

Ellie is pushing through a few bodies not seeing anyone who represents Cat getting drinks. Her eyes are scanning all over debating whether or not she should check inside the washrooms?

Until she sees Cats head in the middle of the dance floor. “Cat!” Ellie yells smiling until she sees it. Her voice falls short and her smile fades.

Cats kissing another girl.

Ellie’s whole face turns pale and she gets hit with a wave a nausea that hits her like a brick.

Everything goes in a fucking blur. Ellie’s shoving through a shit ton of bodies. Tears streaming.

The scene is..ugly..

But she’s been dating Cat for almost a year. All of it, it’s down the drain in the matter of seconds. Ellie’s hands are shaking as she pushes the alleyway door open quickly trying to calm the fuck down.

Ellie sits down on the ground her chest falling up and down as her vision blurs. Black spots are appearing in her eyes and she feels like she can hardly breath.

It doesn’t take long till she can hear Dina’s muffled voice. “Jesse! She’s out here!” Dina says crouching down rubbing Ellie’s back.

Ellie assumes she hit Dina on the way out since she was so fast to find her. Ellie’s having a full blown panic attack and it’s not going away.

Jesse also crouches down beside Dina, reaching his arm on Ellie’s shoulder asking Dina if she saw what even happened.

Dina continues telling Ellie to breath. She softly rest Ellie’s hand above her chest to follow her own breathing pattern. “Ellie in…and out”

Dina looks at Jesse. “Wanna get her some water.”

Jesse quickly nods running over to the convenience store which is across the street.

As soon as Jesses leaves, Dina looks at Ellie. “Ellie what happened.”

The sparkle which was in Ellie’s eyes during the beginning of the night is now gone. And she just shakes her head. “Cat kissed some girl. I saw her while-while it was happening.”

Ellie try’s to clear her throat, a cover to stop the tears that are threatening to spill from her eyes again.

After that night Ellie didn’t want to feel.

So she made the decision she was done with trying to feel.

Present

(You)

“Fuck.” You sigh now realizing how much you fucked up. You brought up a situation you knew literally nothing about and probably just gave Ellie new fresh wounds which were probably just healing. “I thought the girl who moved out went back to her hometown or something, It was Cat though..?”

“She probably didn’t feel like explaining it” Dina let’s out a dry chuckle which is to cover how fucked the whole situation is.

“Listen it’s not your fault.” Dina sighs shaking her head.

“You didn’t know?” Dina tilts her head her eyes finally meeting yours.. “Trust me I know Ellie can be a dick.” Dina says rubbing your shoulder, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty.

“Give her time to ease up” Dina nods trying to reassure you her behaviour will be better.

“I’ve gave her 3 fucking weeks?” You say. Almost all your sympathy leaving your body once again. Sure you wanted to feel bad for Ellie? But she’s mean all the fucking time.

What happened to her unfortunately doesn’t excuse that.

“I feel bad, a-and I get what happened to her isn’t fair. I know it wasn’t right for me to say what I did, but it’s also not fair for her to take it out on me Dina.” You say looking at Dina and Dina’s head drops.

“I’ve been friends with Ellie since freshman year. I swear to you she’s only ever fucking been like this these last 2 months.” Dina says, it’s like she’s trying to convince you that Ellie’s not a complete dick. Which you’re finding hard to believe.

Just as you were about to speak. Ellie walks out of her bedroom with Jesse. She looks straight at Dina then you, for the first time in fucking weeks Ellie doesn’t go straight to insulting you.

You can tell by the fact her eyes are now red she’s obviously been crying. You’ve never seen vulnerable before. Never with red eyes, her nose still sniffling, the outer area of her eyes still wet, you haven’t ever seen Ellie like this..

You didn’t say anything considering you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt since you were 100% the cause to her crying.

Your eyes follow Dina as you see her step forward and just hug Ellie. Ellie doesn’t push back or refuse. She just wraps her arms back around Dina.

Ellie’s face goes in Dina’s neck and it’s like a different version of Ellie.

Not like the version you’ve constantly been seeing.

You’ve seen Ellie like this before, it was when she was sleeping on the couch after coming home drunk with Dina and Jesse..

A version of her which was calm and real. Not someone behind a dark, mad, rude, persona. Probably the Ellie before Cat decided to fuck her up.

The Ellie which felt.

A/N -> Part 2 is here!!

I really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, because I did actually enjoy writing this! I already have a full plot lay out for the 3 part so expect that maybe next week. (don’t hold me to that 😭)

I’m gonna shift from a bit of the angst because I feel like i’m sorta shit at writing it, idkkkk!

I’m still super busy with school but so far my work load has been going down a bit, so I plan to work on obviously my other fics while still prioritizing this one! (Because I plan 5-6 parts)

That’s all! Ty again for reading likes and reblogs are really appreciated! 🫶🏽

Taglist - @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @shiimer @boobdrug @amberputh

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sc0tters · 1 year

Text

Repeated Moments | Quinn Hughes

summary: you and Quinn get a chance to see that your usual summer fling works all year round.

song: August - Taylor Swift

request: yes/no

warnings: bit of swearing, allusions to sex but nothing explicit.

word count: 1.41k

authors note: so the song August actually inspired the In His Arms series and I came up with it before this request came in. So I figured that I’d give you guys what was the other option that I had when building that series main character! If you want to see more of the celly you can find the playlist here!

He was never yours for long enough.

It started back in 2020 one night at the lake house when you two had far too much to drink and you ended up in Quinn’s room with your clothes on the floor and you tangled in his sheets.

There was a joke that you’d end up like that one day, Ellen saw the way you looked at her son. She saw the way he looked at you too. In fact the only people who didn’t see it was Alex, Jack and their other friends.

Luke didn’t see it but he walked in once when you were on Quinn’s lap making out with him and once you swore him to secrecy the youngest Hughes vowed to never tell a soul.

Despite the fact that you sat Quinn down swearing that what happened could never happen again because you believed your brothers friendship was more important than a quick fuck, it seemed to continue to happen.

After the third and fourth time that you landed up in his sheets it was clear that this was bound to be more than just a drunken evening.

Quickly it began your secret, you’d go to bed waiting until everyone fell asleep before you’d make your way to Quinn’s room making sure that you were back in your room by the time Alex was woke up.

Sure there were a few times that you two were almost caught, Jack went to the bathroom early one morning and saw you leaving his brothers room, Alex came to your room to give you a blanket once and was met with your empty bed. Cole thought he heard moans coming from Quinn’s room but he just assumed that it was him being sleep deprived.

The moment it all should have been caught was when Alex saw the hickey on your neck that you chalked off to be a burn from your curling iron, your hair had been straight all week but your brother still offered to get ice for you.

Things continued on for another summer always ending when the first one left the lake house.

A spanner was thrown into the works though when Luke invited you to his debut game because he knew you were in New Jersey for the week. The young Hughes boy had a soft spot for you because when he was like twelve you threatened to punch Jack and Trevor if they continued to tease him.

Quinn didn’t know you were going to there but the signs should have pointed to it. Ellen came with a box of your favourite fudge that only this one small candy shop in Michigan made, you were the only one on this planet Quinn knew who ate it. Jack and Luke had been talking about a girl coming with Trevor and how they were surprised that she willingly had him accompanying her on the flight.

Trevor was the kind of person that you used to put up with, he was nice don’t get yourself wrong but he literally spent the first four years of knowing you trying to flirt with you. Sure you appreciated the fact that he found you pretty but his efforts began to get irritating after a while. To put it nicely you loved Trevor but you loved him even more when he kept his mouth shut.

But recently it seemed that you two had grown close or at least that’s what it looked like to Quinn. The younger boys arm didn’t leave your shoulders when you first arrived. Originally it was because the box was packed and you had the kind of luck that would have you lost within seconds. But after a while it grew comfortable there much to Quinn’s dismay and as a result he forced himself to muster up the confidence to go over and tell Trevor to hit the road.

Every jealous bone in Quinn melted when he saw your face light up “Quinny!” You giggled as you threw your arms around him, the moment was quickly interrupted with a scoff “how come I didn’t get that reaction?” Trevor pretended to act offended by it as he placed his hand on his chest. A smile formed on your lips as you placed a kiss on your middle finger before you flipped the younger boy off who ended up laughing as he walked off.

You got the chance to turn your attention back to the older boy “hi,” you giggled as you could still see the glare he was shooting at Trevor “Quinn?” You added as you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

Quinn forced a smile onto his face as he looked at you “what’s up?” He asked as you clearly now had his attention.

There was something on his mind that you were trying to figure out “you jealous?” You teased as you hadn’t really seen him like that before.

The boy let out a scoff “why should I be?” He shot back trying to play a defensive hand.

It was all clicking in your mind “you didn’t like how close he was getting to me!” You gasped as the Canucks player placed his hand over your mouth.

Quinn rolled his eyes as he could hear your muffled laugh from behind his hand “okay maybe a little,” he sighed as he dropped his hand “you’re cute when you get all jealous,” you teased as you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

That seemed to hit a switch in his mind “fuck I missed you.” Quinn confessed as he wrapped his hands around your waist only being allow to give you a small hug as Ellen came over to you two the moment she saw your face.

the next morning

You groaned as you heard the noise of the knocks at your hotel room door “yeah?” You yawned as you swung the door open and were met with the younger of the two Hughes brothers “you know where Quinn is?” Luke asked as he sent you a smile when he held out a cup of coffee for you, it seemed that the boys made a pit stop on the way to your hotel.

Your lips pushed into a thin line “I haven’t seen Quinn since last night in the elevator,” you lied as you sipped the warm drink. You did see Quinn in that elevator, but it wasn’t the last time that you saw him.

Jack sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair “if you see him let us know?” He mumbled as Ellen had sent her sons on a mission to find him and they just thought that his best friends room would be a good place to start.

It was awkward “of course!” You nodded as you shut the door desperate to not say anything.

Quinn popped his head out from the bottom of your bed “you think they noticed me?” He asked as he cocked his head.

You fiddled with the ends of the shirt you were wearing “nope,” you looked like an absolute angel, hair all messy, lips swollen, the clear hickies that were beginning to form, and Quinn’s Canucks shirt.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned against the elevator wall “what are you thinking about?” Luke could see that there was clearly something working in his mind.

The middle Hughes boy snapped his fingers “you see that Canucks shirt she was in?” He asked as the T-shirt looked like it came from a team development camp.

Luke began to think about it as he also had your oath he had in his mind “yeah,” it was that moment that the penny seemed to drop “oh my god!”

You and Quinn were totally oblivious to it all as you had both been in the shower to ‘save time’ “come back here!” Quinn’s complaint drew a laugh from your lips.

He wrapped his arm around your waist as he began to place kisses along your neck “Quinn!” You tried to move your head as the feeling of him was tickling your neck.

But all of a sudden when you went quiet the eldest Hughes boy stopped “what?” He asked as he scanned your face that was full of worry.

Alex 🖤: YOU FUCKED QUINN

Alex 🖤: I shouldn’t even be surprised

Alex 🖤: you did call him cute

Alex 🖤: on multiple occasions

Alex 🖤: just no making me an uncle just yet

“you think I’m cute all the time?”

“shut up,”

Maybe this time there will be more than enough time for you two.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #ambers 150 celly #amber writes fics

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myhaikyuuacademia · 5 months

Text

Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||

This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back

Fake dating, fem!reader

@foxxyhun

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway. Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down. “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”

“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.

When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Woah, your room is awesome.” Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.

“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded. Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.

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radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

Baby Spencer x hotch daughter first meeting maybe? I’d kind of like to think that maybe they had met before or liked each other. Like they go to the same coffee shop and meet there and talk. And he is finally worked up to courage to ask her out and just before he’s going to leave to meet her, she walks in and is introduced as hotch’s daughter.

"Rushing off to see your girlfriend?" Morgan asks with a smirk.

Spencer had thought he made a clean getaway when no one was in the bullpen but he made the mistake of putting his mug in the dishwasher instead of just leaving and Morgan snuck up on him.

"She's not my girlfriend." Spencer denies, blushing guiltily. Maybe one day, he thinks every time at the coffee shop.

"Man, we just got home from a week-long case, you haven't slept in 32 hours, but you're still going to get coffee with her." Morgan reminds him, chuckling slightly at how whipped his friend is.

"It's because I always see her on Sundays," Spencer replies shortly. wanting to get out of there.

Morgan pats him on the back. "Have fun then."

Before Spencer can reply, someone he knows walks through the door, someone he's definitely not expecting to see at the BAU. You.

He's surprised you're here, wondering how you found him, what you need.

And even more to his surprise, Morgan greets you with a hug. "Hey, sweetness, how are you?"

Spencer watches in shock as you hug Morgan back, definitely like you're very friendly with him. Does that mean you knew who Spencer was when you met? Is this some kind of sick, elaborate prank?

"Good." You reply, flashing a quick smile at Spencer that Morgan catches onto and frowns at. "Is he here?"

Morgan seems to know who you're talking about. "Yeah."

"I thought I'd come see him since someone missed our coffee shop date." Your bold wink following the statement has Spencer blushing like crazy. Then you're gone, walking away from the boys.

Morgan's eyebrows raise and he turns to look at Spencer. "That's coffee shop girl!?" He explains, even before you're out of earshot.

"Who is she?" Spencer asks back.

"Hotch's daughter, how did you not know that?" Morgan fills Spencer in on information that has him seriously alarmed.

He's been dating Hotch's daughter!? Jack's young enough that he assumed Hotch's other child was less than ten years older and away at boarding school or something, not an adult in DC that he's been unknowingly building a relationship with.

And his crush is far too big to let go of now.

Morgan's laughing next to him. "Oh, that's too good."

"What am I going to do?" Spencer repeats the question running through his head.

"Ask her out," Morgan says with a shrug. "It just means one day, Hotch will be your father-in-law."

That's a terrifying thought to Spencer, not marrying you but having Hotch related to him, even if it is just through marriage.

He stresses about what to do in the corridor rather than going home or sitting in the bullpen where he's within your line of sight. He's not sure whether it's going to be a good thing or not, but only a few minutes later, you come through the glass doors. Thankfully, you're without your father.

"Hey." You say awkwardly, coming to stand in front of him. "I hope you know I was joking with the coffee shop comment."

Spencer nods. "Did you know who I was?" He asks the question that's been burning in his mind. He's not sure which is the worse option.

"No." You assure him. "I didn't even consider it." Neither of you had spoken about your jobs much, and all Spencer had really said is that he travels for work often. "I'm sorry I never told you my last name."

"It's okay," Spencer shakes his head. "It's nice to see you."

You beam back. "It's nice to see you too."

"Do you want to get coffee?" He finally asks, unsure where the confidence came from. It's a big leap of faith, but he's relatively sure Hotch can't fire him over it. "If it's okay for me to ask you out romantically."

It definetly wasn't what you were expecting but you nod eagerly. "I'd love that."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x y/n

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deluxewhump · 25 days

Text

Nightfall

August

CW: just vampire and bloodbag dynamics. a playful “threat.”

The interstate was quiet. Even the night air was a balmy seventy degrees in the final weeks of summer. He slept though the days the same as his master now, but if he woke briefly he could feel the heat of them, a haze that turned the blue sky white. Insects trilled in the grass all day long.

The trees in the distance appeared black against the orange cityglow of the sky. Eighty-five felt like nothing in Maxim’s sleek silver car, gliding through the air like the edge of a knife.

Carlo put his foot on the dash and took it swiftly down again. Maxim had reprimanded him for that once. At first he'd assumed it was out of a sense of preservation for his pristine car. He’d burned in shame for not having thought of that himself. It was a rude, childish habit. Yet in the next breath, Maxim told him it was because it was unsafe. And he was only mortal, after all.

“Before any of this, I thought I’d rather a new vampire feed from me than an older one,” Carlo said. He was bored, and boredom made him chatty these days. “No offense, but the older you get, the stronger you get. And scarier.”

“And what about now?” the vampire asked neutrally.

“Not now so much,” he answered. “The new ones are so… hungry. Rough.”

“It’s harder for them to control it when they’re newly made,” Maxim agreed. “Even the ones who want to control it.”

“Control what?”

“The reflex. When a vampire bites, it triggers a series of impulses. Immobilize, incapacitate, and feed.”

Carlo turned to watch him in the driver’s seat. The now-familiar shape of his profile in the dark was lit only by the orange high mast lights that lined the highway. “Every time?”

Maxim glanced at him and returned his gaze to the road. “Yes."

“But it goes away, when you’re an older vampire?”

“Mm. No.”

“You feel that?”

He hesitated, but it wasn't like him to be dishonest, even in the interest of placating Carlo. “I do.”

He changed lanes to pass a sluggish flatbed truck. Another Maine plate. Carlo had been counting, and it did not seem to be confirmation bias that there were an inordinate number of them on the Maryland roads. He forgot to add this one.

“That disturbed you.”

“No,” he lied. “Sorry. I just didn’t know that.”

“Does that change something for you?”

Sometimes he got the sense that Maxim asked him things out of a very general curiosity. Like he was taking notes for a far future that didn't include him.

“No,” he said stubbornly. “I just didn’t realize you had the urge to incapacitate prey still.”

“Prey is an interesting word choice. And urge is the wrong word entirely. It’s information. Biological. It might be too generous to even call it a coherent thought. I notice it, it passes. I hardly observe it anymore, let alone wrestle with it. I have absolutely no conscious desire to hurt you, Carlo. Quite the opposite.”

Carlo nodded, arms crossed over his waist. He put his right foot on the dash. Maxim didn’t correct him.

“I’ve got instincts too,” he said after another mile of empty highway. “Sometimes I’m still afraid of you. Not you, but what you are. It comes out of nowhere.”

Maxim took a hand off the steering wheel and set it in Carlo’s hair, giving it a soft caress before returning it to the wheel. “Of course you do. That’s very deep in human subconsciousness. It’s just survival instinct.”

“So the word prey does apply!” he argued.

“Such an antagonistic little thing. Can I start making threats to keep you compliant, or is it too soon?”

Carlo turned his face toward the window so the vampire would not see his smile. Maxim had easily, graciously forgiven his human nature, blamelessly saying of course you do. He should return the gesture and forgive the vampire’s nature. It had never been anything but loving to him. The hand was on the back of his head again, checking to see if he was truly upset.

“I am compliant,” he insisted playfully, and laid his head back in the vampire’s palm.

“Good. I don’t have to send you to the trunk then.”

Carlo smiled as the vampire gently squeezed the back of his neck.

#vampire caretaker #vampire carewhumper #bloodbag

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ziggyzolch · 6 months

Text

Your Prettiness is Seeping Through II (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Warnings: maybe bungled the medical stuff and process of being admitted, suicidal ideation, aftermath, descriptions of self harm kind of? its not like currently happening. Bulimia and what comes with it. Those r the main things I think. Previous Chapter

----------------------------------------------------

-------the shame is manifest in my resistance------- ❅❅❅

“So they’re admitting you?”

You could feel the snow being crushed beneath your weight as you leaned back on your hands. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and your best friend was sitting next to you on a random curb, taking the pack of cigarettes from your hand.

It was mid-winter. The city streets bustled with the cheer of festive Christmas decorations and the harmonies of carolers. It almost makes you feel better. You never cared for Christmas, or religion in general, but the joy in the little kids’ faces at the snow blanketing the streets, and the laughing of teenagers having snowball fights was cute.

It helped.

You sigh, turning towards your friend, “No, I don’t think so. Most that’ll happen is I’ll be in therapy, I guess.”

She rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm up, “I think I’d kill myself if I got caught. Kidding, you’ll be fine. Probably.”

You scoff, “Thanks,”

You snatched the pack from her hand, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

You had gotten over the fear of throat cancer a long time ago. It’s more of an expectation than a fear now. Smoking and purging at the same time kind of makes it an inevitability. The thought of death didn’t scare you. Not that you were cripplingly suicidal. You didn’t desperately want to die anymore, you just wouldn’t mind if you did. If you died from all of these habits, it was fine, great even. If not, whatever.

Passively suicidal.

Tomorrow, you’ll have your long awaited psych evaluation. You were shocked that it wasn’t the first thing they’d done. You weren’t that big of a risk anyways. A week has passed since your parents caught you, and you’d been made to take a number of medical tests to determine the severity of your bulimia, or something.

The first one was a general physical assessment, the most simple yet most uncomfortable. You had been made to wear a hospital gown, which you felt was overboard but whatever. They wouldn’t be able to admit you just based off of a BMI measurement, you were sure. You weren’t very underweight, most bulimics you knew weren’t. In fact, most of them were normal, sometimes overweight, but you just assumed it was because they were bad at it. You didn’t feel anything looking at your weight. Numbers mattered, sure, but with every binge and purge, your weight fluctuated like crazy, so you learned to just look for signs of weight loss via mirror.

She read your BMI out loud, you knew it wasn’t low enough to be a concern. You internally celebrated, until you noticed her eyes glancing down to your arm.

Shit.

Burning was your preferred method of self mutilation. Cutting was unsatisfying, messy, and a pain in the ass. Burns look disgusting when they heal though, which was the only downside. The scars are easily passable as cooking accidents and such. When they’re still healing, though, charred, blistered, and disgusting, they’re almost impossible to excuse. Your mom had caught you once, with your worst burn nonetheless. One offer of taking over the chores for the day and she was off your back, already taking her place on the sofa.

The burns weren’t fresh, not at all. Most of them were years old, but you panicked nonetheless. You’ve seen how batshit they get at any sign of self harm. You watched as she glanced towards your arm, then turned back to her clipboard, writing something down. Subtly moving your other arm behind your back, you cover up the bruises on your knuckles.

You also had to go to a dentist appointment. Last time you went, you had just gotten your braces off and permanent retainers in. You still have glue on the back of your teeth from when your top retainer broke, they had never gotten rid of it. With how often it fell off, you were glad the dentist had given up on putting in replacements.

You were more worried about this appointment than the physical assessment. You couldn’t keep food down, smiling with your eroded teeth was uncomfortable, and your breath was horrible. The dentist would definitely notice something, at the very least that you were a smoker. Your mother would hate that more than bulimia.

Honestly, despite all of these effects, you got the benefit of barely having a gag reflex. Which, now that you think about it, doesn’t really matter considering you don’t even like men.

Surprise was clear on your face when your dentist complimented you on the health of your teeth and sent you on your way.

You didn’t really know what the other tests were, something about heart arrhythmias and electrolytes. You didn’t care, you were so over it. It was all bullshit. You weren’t sad. You weren’t suicidal nor were you a danger to yourself or others. You were just bulimic, not on the brink of fucking brain collapse.

All of this was bullshit.

❅❅❅

Wanda’s senses come back one by one. Her ears pick up the soft whirring of machinery and occasional beeping of monitors. The soft footsteps of nurses and patients walking past, the opening and closing of a door as doctors enter, the scratching of their pens against their clipboard. The lingering scent of antiseptic reaches her nose, and the bitter taste in her mouth makes itself known. Her fingers pinch the stiff material of her gown, and she can feel the IV in her arm. Finally, she opens her eyes.

Waking up in the fiery depths of hell would’ve been better than where Wanda was right now. She mumbled curses under her breath as she looked around, taking in the hospital equipment around her.

“Natasha?” She croaked out when she caught sight of her friend sleeping on the hospital chair in the corner of the room. Natasha jumped up, wiping the drool off her chin and rushing towards Wanda. “Oh, thank god.” She sighed, pulling Wanda into an awkward hug.

She pulls back when she realizes Wanda wasn’t hugging her back. “How do you feel?” Wanda cringes at the pity on Natasha’s face. “Peachy.” She turns away, not stopping Natasha when she reaches to grab her hand.

The widow sighs, rubbing circles into Wanda’s hand, making her fingers twitch slightly. They sit in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. Wanda was glad Natasha had found her. She didn’t want to be found at all, but at least it was Natasha.

She was so stupid, so fucking stupid. Of course it wouldn’t have worked. She should’ve just shot herself in the head, like a man. She’d read somewhere that men have higher suicide rates because they carry it out in more extreme ways. Girls usually go for lighter, prettier deaths. Overdoses, slitting their wrists in a rose petal filled bathtub, and such. More survivable, and less of a burden for whoever cleans up after them. Men don't feel the same obligation. So what if it's more work for the cleaners? A shotgun to the head is easier for them, that's what matters. They don't think about how puffy their face would get if they hung themselves, or how awkward they'd be positioned on the ground if they jumped off a building. They don't think about the possibility of surviving afterwards and dealing with the deformity.

Pietro’s lifeless body flashes in her mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wanda finally notices the iron grip she had on Natasha’s hand.

She didn’t want to talk about Pietro. Never. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Her friend looks away, “You’re suspended until you get help.”

“What! No!” Wanda sits up, snatching her hand out of Natasha’s grip, “This was the first time! Bruce tried to kill himself, why isn’t he suspended?”

“That was before he even joined.”

Wanda sighs, “So, what like, therapy for a week?”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, “Wanda, you tried to kill yourself. You need to be monitored.”

“I’m not a fucking child. Jesus, Nat!”

“It’s not up to me, Fury’s orders. Either get help or you’re fired, basically.”

“Don’t I need a psychological evaluation or some shit?”

“Wanda, you swallowed a whole bottle of whatever-the-fuck pills. I can evaluate you right now. You’re fucked in the head, babe.” Natasha attempts to joke.

She sighs in relief when Wanda huffs out a laugh, “So, you’re sending me to the loony bin?”

“Yup. It’ll be great though, perks of being an Avenger.” Natasha places a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

“How long will I be there?”

Natasha grabs Wanda’s hand that’s picking at her gown, “Until you’re better.”

The sound of a girl yelling stops their conversation.

❅❅❅

“Inpatient would be the best option…”

The ringing in your ears blocks out whatever the doctor was saying. What the fuck. You were not crazy. So what if you were bulimic. You didn’t constantly starve yourself and avoid food so you were chill, but you also were not getting fat, so you were hot. It’s like a win-win.

You’re sitting with your parents, a doctor across from you. He must be a therapist, or psychologist…psychiatrist? Potato, Tomato.

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to earth. Tears are pooling in your mothers eyes, your father is sighing into his hand. “What about my classes? My life!”

“Lower your voice. You aren’t being sent away to the fucking Alcatraz.” Your father grits out.

The doctor chimes in, “I’m sure you’ll be able to do your school work, most institutions let you have books and supervised computer time.”

You push your mothers hand off your shoulder. “Why are you doing this to me?”

She scoffs, “Me? Why are you doing this to yourself!”

“You can’t make me!” Passersby can hear your voice through the closed door of the office.

It was true, they couldn’t really. You were a legal adult, they couldn’t make you do shit. Your mother pinches the bridge of her nose before turning to your father expectedly. You look back and forth between them with an eyebrow raised.

“We won’t support you anymore if you don’t do this.” He finally pushes out.

“What? As if you’ve ever supported-”

Oh. Financially. College and such. Housing and such. Food…and such.

You’re not that level of adult, yet.

“What the fuck-”

“Language!”

“No! What the actual fuck! I’m not sick!”

Your father’s face contorts in anger, “Did you not hear a single word the doctor said? Your potassium levels, electrolytes, and heart are all fucked! You could have a heart attack!” He takes a breath,

“You are killing yourself.”

“What?” You don’t know what to say. Why is your heart beating so fast?

You let out a frustrated shriek, getting up to leave. They don’t know what they’re saying. You storm out of the office, narrowly avoiding passing nurses and stretchers, trying to ignore the sense of dread building within you.

Heart attacks were a lame death. You could imagine how stupid you'd look; jaw wide open, leaning back in your desk chair, clutching at your chest. The door to your room is always locked, so your parents wouldn’t care to check for a while. They’d just assume you were isolating yourself.

Stiffening up in that position, rotting and decomposing. So lame, so ugly.

It didn’t scare you.

Your head ricocheting off a wall interrupts your spiral.

Natasha winces, peaking over the door to find you on the floor, rubbing your head. Wanda had asked her to check what was going on, and you happened to be passing by at the same time she opened the door. You push yourself off the floor before Natasha could help you up. Black spots appear in your vision and you start swaying. You must’ve stood up too fast.

Natasha holds you up as you fall into her for a second, before you regain your bearings.

“Get off me!”

She lets go immediately, raising an eyebrow when you double-take at the sight of Wanda.

‘She’s so skinny.’

Wanda looks up at you, confused when she takes you in. You could’ve been the same weight as her, if not a little more. She doesn’t read people's thoughts if she can help it, but yours were so loud. You blush when she makes eye contact with you, turning and stomping away.

Your footsteps fade as Natasha closes the door, making her way back to Wanda. The widow smiles at Wanda, poking her side, “I think she has a crush on you.” Wanda’s eyes widen, “No way; she said I was skinny.” Natasha tilts her head, “Like in a disgusted way?” The witch looks down at her hands.

She assumed it was envy at first, but you didn’t look like you weighed significantly more than her. Nor was it disgust, based off of how you looked at her.

“Not…really. I don’t know.”

Natasha sighs, “Well, it doesn't matter. We’ll fatten you up in no time.”

She winces at Wanda’s obviously forced laugh.

She didn’t like being skinny, but it was an effect of her depression. It wouldn’t be that easy to reverse. The only reason she was open to this treatment was so that she could go back to work. She’ll just pretend to get better, go back, and work until she can’t take it anymore. Next time, she’ll use a gun. Actually, would she subconsciously stop the bullet with her powers? The pills almost killed her, maybe she’d just lock her door next time. She could pick up smoking, maybe that’d be like a backup. A slow, eventual death could be happening in the background while she found short term options. Multitasker.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Wanda is taken out of her reverie as Natasha pokes at her stomach again. She smiles, shaking her head and curling up into the bed. The older redhead pats her shoulder, “The squad’s going to visit before you leave. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.”

Wanda groans, she didn’t need any more people up her ass.

She stiffens at the sound of sniffling, looking up when she feels her shoulder dampen.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Natasha leans over her frame, hair masking her face. The brunette stammers, racking her brain for a reply. She’d never seen Natasha so emotional. It was like hearing Steve use slang.

She sighs, curling further into herself and ignoring Natasha. She wishes she could reassure her. Tell her that even the thought of trying again made her nauseous, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t live the rest of her life seeing her brother's corpse every time she blinks.

Living with the memory of Pietro’s death for the rest of her life was worse than any torture she’d ever endured.

She ignores the flashing images as her eyes drift close, falling asleep to the sound of Natasha’s sniffling.

❅❅❅

A/N: I lowk regret writing in in second person but yolo. reply to this post if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @mathxa @nikkinss

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atinyslittleworld · 4 months

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Dancing through Miscommunication

yunho x dancer!reader

Summary: Yunho is captivated by dance trainee Y/N but he hesitates to confess his feelings after overhearing her endearing phone call.

Genre: a little angst

Warnings: none

From the moment Yunho first saw her gracefully moving across the dance studio, he was captivated. Her every step was imbued with elegance and determination, her dedication to her craft evident in the way she threw herself into each routine. Yunho found himself drawn to her, admiring not just her skill but also the fire and determination that burned within her.

Weeks turned into months, and Yunho’s fascination with Y/N only grew stronger. He found himself stealing glances whenever she was in the studio, his heart skipping a beat every time their eyes met. He longed to approach her, to express the feelings that had been building inside him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Then, one fateful day, Yunho finally worked up the courage to approach Y/N. He waited until after a particularly grueling practice session, when they were both catching their breath and wiping sweat from their brows.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yunho began, his voice slightly shaky with nerves. “I’ve been wanting to tell you… I think you’re an incredible dancer. Your passion and dedication are truly inspiring.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Thank you, Yunho,” she replied, her voice soft but filled with gratitude. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Encouraged by her response, Yunho took a deep breath, steeling himself to continue. “I was wondering if… maybe we could grab coffee sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”

Y/N’s smile widened, and Yunho felt a surge of hope swell within him. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice warm and inviting. “I’ve always wanted to learn more about you too.”

Their coffee date was filled with easy conversation and laughter, the two of them discovering shared interests and aspirations as they talked. Yunho learned that Y/N was not just a talented dancer, but also a kind-hearted and compassionate individual with a love for music and art.

As the days passed, Yunho found himself falling deeper and deeper for Y/N. He admired her strength and resilience, her unwavering determination to chase her dreams despite the challenges she faced. He longed to tell her how he felt, to confess the love that had been growing inside him with each passing day.

But just as Yunho was about to pour his heart out, he overheard a snippet of conversation from Y/N’s phone call. His heart sank as he heard her affectionately call someone “baby,” assuming it was a romantic partner. The crushing weight of disappointment threatened to overwhelm him, and he silently retreated, unable to bear the thought of confessing his feelings now.

Unbeknownst to Yunho, the person on the other end of the line was Y/N’s younger brother, whom she adored and affectionately referred to as “baby.” She was discussing plans for their family dinner that evening, completely unaware of the effect her words had on Yunho.

Yunho couldn’t shake the feeling of regret. He couldn’t understand why he felt so drawn to Y/N, only to have his hopes dashed so suddenly. He tried to push her out of his mind, focusing on his training and responsibilities as an idol, but her presence lingered in his thoughts, a constant reminder of what could have been.

Meanwhile, Y/N remained oblivious to Yunho’s feelings, continuing to train diligently and pour her heart and soul into her passion for dance. Little did she know, her presence had sparked something within Yunho that he couldn’t ignore – a love that burned brighter with each passing day, despite the obstacles in their path.

One day, fate intervened once again as Yunho and Y/N found themselves paired together for a dance practice. As they moved together, their bodies in perfect synchrony, Yunho couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope stirring within him. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them to be together.

After practice, Yunho mustered up the courage to talk to Y/N, determined to finally express his feelings. As they chatted, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something special between them, a connection that went beyond words.

Just as Yunho was about to confess his feelings, Y/N’s phone rang. She excused herself to take the call, and Yunho’s heart sank once again, fearing that it was the same person she had affectionately called “baby” before.

Yunho's feelings for Y/N only grew stronger, despite his initial disappointment. He couldn't shake the thought that there was something between them, a connection that went beyond mere attraction. He couldn't let go of the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them to be together.

Unable to bear the weight of his emotions any longer, Yunho decided to confront Y/N. He found her after dance practice one evening, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached her.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" Yunho asked, his voice unsteady with nerves.

Y/N turned to him, a curious expression on her face. "Sure, what's up?" she replied, her brow furrowing slightly.

Yunho took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I need to ask you something," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "Why did you go out with me if you already had a partner?"

Y/N's eyes widened in confusion, her mind racing to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about, Yunho?" she asked, her voice tinged with bewilderment.

Yunho took a step closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "I heard you talking on the phone," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You called someone 'baby,' and I assumed... I thought you were in a relationship."

Realization dawned on Y/N's face, her confusion giving way to understanding. "Oh, Yunho," she said, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I think there's been a misunderstanding."

Yunho looked at her, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to explain.

"I was talking to my little brother," Y/N continued, her voice gentle and reassuring. "I call him 'baby' sometimes, as a term of endearment. He's not my partner – he's just my younger brother."

Relief flooded through Yunho, washing away the weight of uncertainty that had been pressing down on him. He felt a rush of emotions – gratitude, joy, and a newfound sense of hope.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," Yunho apologized, his voice tinged with relief. "I guess I let my insecurities get the best of me."

Y/N smiled warmly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "No need to apologize, Yunho," she said, her voice soft and reassuring. "I understand why you were confused. But I want you to know... I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Yunho's heart swelled with gratitude, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in her words. In that moment, he knew that he had found something truly special – a love that was worth fighting for, even in the face of uncertainty.

With their misunderstandings cleared up and their feelings laid bare, Yunho and Y/N's relationship blossomed like never before. They shared laughter, tears, and countless moments of joy, each day bringing them closer together.

And as they danced through life hand in hand, Yunho knew that he had found something truly precious – a love that was worth waiting for, even in the midst of doubt and confusion.

#jeong yunho #yunho #yunho x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho imagines

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 year

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Purple Houses and Paranorman

(Single!Dad Eddie Munson x Single!Mom Reader)

Summary: Eddie asks you and Oliver to go to a special screening of Paranorman with him and Charlotte. WK: 3.9K

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Warnings: Basically none, modern AU, mention of a dead family member (readers aunt), There’s like one second where Eddie is checking reader out and his thoughts get a little carried away, readers son has a speech delay, reader is implied to be alternative and have tattoos but I don’t talk about it much besides her outfits, fluff fluff and moreee fluff. But as always my blog is 18+MNDI

A/N: So I might have gotten a tiny bit carried away talking about the house, it wasn’t something I originally planned out but it kind of just came to me as I was writing, I’d like for them to all live there together eventually. I’m trying to make it a lil slow burn but I suck at that so hard so we will see how much longer I can go without making them kiss LOL. Also I said these were blurbs and this is almost 4K sooo Oopsie. As always my requests for these guys are open and feedback is greatly appreciated.💜💚

Your phone vibrated and the screen lit up, the contact reading “Eddie🎸🦇” you smiled to yourself before pushing the green accept button.

“Helloooo Edward, what can I do for you on this fine autumn morning?”

“Hey weirdo” He let out a laugh, one you’ve grown to find comfort in over these last few weeks. “What are you and Oli up to today? The theater is doing a special showing of Paranorman and I was wondering if you guys would wanna go with us later?”

“What’s in it for me?” You joked.

“Ummm you get to spend time with your bestfriend and do something Halloween related, which I know you love.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re my bestfriend.” You laughed, knowing he definitely had become the best friend you have but still wanting to fuck with him a little.

“Me? I’m talking about Charlotte, you are her new self proclaimed bestfriend and also you do her hair better than me, apparently. Can’t believe my own daughter likes you more than me.” He sighed dramatically and you could practically see him faux fainting.

“Awww I love her, she’s my new bestfriend too. Verdict is still out on her dad though.”

“WOW I can’t believe you would betray me like this, I thought you loved me.”

“Don’t worry, you’re better at playing monster than me apparently sooo I think we are even. What time do you want to go?”

“I guess we can call it even, for now. How about around two? Gives us a few hours to get the goblins fed and ready to go.”

Jokingly teasing each other had become the norm for you and Eddie, easily falling into flirty banter since the day you met.

“Okay, perfect.”

“Want to meet us there? Or I can come get you guys and we can ride together.”

Something you had noticed about Eddie is how perceptive he was. He picked up early on that you’d avoid going places you’d have to drive especially if you’d never been there before, which in those first few weeks was essentially everywhere. So he always offered to pick you and Oliver up whenever you all did something together.

“Could you pick us up? If that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t have offered it if it wasn’t okay, babe.” Babe, was something he only started calling you recently but it made you giddy every time.

He was also constantly reassuring you that he didn’t mind helping you when you needed it. He knows how hard it is to do this alone so he was always offering to do anything to make things easier on you. Even if it was something as small as picking you and your son up for a movie. At first you declined his help every chance he offered, used to doing things alone, not wanting to burden him. But he’s told you over and over how he doesn’t mind, that it makes him happy to be able to help you.

So who could blame you if you had developed a not so small crush on him? You tried not to, but he was all kind gestures, big brown eyes and chunky jewelry. So how could you not? It’s not your fault it was like he was your dream come to life. You weren’t positive but you were pretty sure he felt the same. Hugs started lingering just a little longer than they should have, hands started brushing when you followed behind your rowdy children on evening walks, the cute little pet names he would always call you that made your stomach flip, the kisses on the cheek you had started giving each other.

So after you got Oli ready you gave him his tablet and spent a little extra time getting ready. You did your hair in your favorite style and added just a tiny bit more makeup than usual, both turned out perfect. But now you were standing in front of your open closet, staring at it like the perfect outfit was just going to jump out at you.

The October chill had set in throughout Hawkins, the days still sunny but the breeze cold, not quite bone chilling like in mid December, but cold enough that you needed some layers. You were also going to be sitting in a movie seat for two hours even if they were the reclining ones you didn’t want to spend that amount of time sitting in jeans.

After trying on several outfits, you ended up deciding on a black long sleeve skater dress, the neckline scooped just enough to make your boobs look nice. You layered some thigh high socks and leg warmers before pulling on your boots. You grabbed a plain zip-up just in case you got cold in the theater and gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you looked good, and you hoped Eddie would think so too. He had never seen you this dolled up, usually wearing more comfortable clothes and simpler make-up.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, a mixture of emotions going through you. Excitement to see Eddie was in the forefront, but the nervousness was lingering in the background. Are you reading things wrong? Is it smart to get involved with someone that your son has already started to form an attachment to? You took a deep breath, checking your hair one last time before shaking your head as if it would erase those feelings like an etch-a-sketch, willing yourself to enjoy something for once.

When you decided you were as ready as you’d ever be you got on Oliver’s shoes and jacket before grabbing your purse and taking him outside on the porch to wait on the swing. You smiled to yourself as you looked at the porch you spent many summers drinking lemonade with your aunt. The various wind chimes that hung moons and stars and zodiac symbols chime in the mid October breeze.

You loved this house, it belonged to your late aunt who left it to you in her will when she died. It was beautiful but eccentric, kind of like your aunt herself. It stuck out among the many suburban style houses in your neighborhood. It was a late 1800s Victorian style home, with beautiful arches and various types of windows, a wrap-around porch, and a beautiful backyard with a garden that your aunt cared for until the day she couldn’t anymore. You and Eddie had planted pumpkins back there with the kids in her honor, she’s the reason you love them so much after all. They were almost ready to be harvested and carved, a Halloween movie on in the background and the smell of pumpkin seeds baking in the oven.

But what really made the house stand out was that your aunt had it painted a deep purple color, the shutters and roof black, matching the porch. The door was black but it had a beautiful stained glass window in the middle of it, depicting the same kind of crescent moon and stars that dangled from the wind chimes. Inside there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living and family room that held a mixture of her old and your new furniture, and your favorite part, the kitchen. It had been updated since the house was built, but still held a vintage feel. Your aunt had the cabinets and drawers all painted the same purple as the outside of the house, wallpaper with those same moons and stars adorned the walls. The only modern thing about it being the fact that she had replaced all the appliances with shiny new ones.

It was a lot of space, too much for just you and Oliver. But you couldn’t bring yourself to sell it, some of your happiest memories were spent here. So you decided you’d take this opportunity and get the fresh start you’ve been needing. You didn’t have much keeping you back home anyways. You and your mom weren’t particularly close but when she found out your aunt left you everything, not just the house, but her money too, she was furious.

Now that you’ve settled you know it was the right choice. Oli started school and despite his struggles with communication he was thriving in class, you got a job at a local diner where you made pretty decent tips, you had this beautiful house, and last but not least you had Eddie and Charlotte.

•

A large smile stretched across Eddie’s face when he turned down your long driveway and saw you and your son sitting on the porch. He loves your house, he used to drive by it when he would deal to the rich kids in highschool and always admired it. But when you stood up his jaw actually dropped. He had never seen you in a dress before, you always looked beautiful but right now you were fucking radiant.

He got out of his SUV to help you get Oliver’s seat in and you were even more breathtaking up close.

“Wow. You look… wow.” Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes wander your form for a moment, his cheeks turning red when he reaches that little sliver of skin between your socks and your dress.

“Thanks, babe. You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.” You repeated his words from earlier back to him and he cackled.

“Ha ha veeerry funny, brat.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

“Reaaaal mature, nerd.”

“Hi Eddie!” Oli ran over to hug Eddie’s legs and smiled triumphantly, having recently gotten his new friend's name down.

“Hey little dude! How’s a going?” He gave your son a wide smile while he affectionately ruffled his hair.

“Where Char?” He tilted his head to the side, more concerned with where his friend was than answering Eddie’s question.

“She’s in the car buddy, you wanna to say hi to her while I get your seat in?”

He just nodded, grabbing your hand and dragging you around to the other side of the car where Charlotte was, knowing he’s not supposed to walk down the driveway without holding hands.

Eddie couldn’t help but watch you walk away, internally groaning when he saw that same sliver of skin from the back. The dress is long enough to cover your ass, but not by much and he can’t help but imagine flipping the skirt of it up and-

“Eddie? Are you gonna put the seat in the car or are you just gonna stand there and ogle me?”

You couldn’t help but tease him when you turned around and he was just standing there holding the car seat with his mouth hanging open.

“Huh? Oh! Uh, yeah- yeah sorry.” His face turned beat red and he turned his back to put the seat in to try and hide it, but you saw it. At least you know he thinks you look cute, mission accomplished.

Once the kids were all buckled and ready to go you got in the passenger seat and flashed him a smile. He turned towards you and reached under your seat, his leather jacket covered arm going across your thighs where your dress rode up. You tried to act like your heart wasn’t beating a thousand miles a minute whenever you were this close to him, hopefully succeeding.

But Eddie caught the tiniest little squeak that came out of the back of your throat when he first touched you. Feeling satisfied with himself that he had any kind of affect on you because you made him feel like he was in highschool with a crush on a girl he didn’t have a chance with. But you were constantly showing him that maybe he did have a chance with you.

He pulled a bag from under your seat, plopping it in your lap.

“Me and the princess stopped at the dollar store and got your guys’ favorite candy. I figured since the movie theater candy is like crazy expensive we could get the candy before and get popcorn and drinks at the theater.” He said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal that he remembered you and your son’s favorite treats. But to you, it was. Every single time you saw him he gave you another reason to fall for him.

“Wow, thank you Eds. That’s really thoughtful of you.” You smiled at him sweetly, the kind of smile that made him feel like he was going to melt into a puddle in the driver's seat.

“Of course Darlin’ anything for my favorite dude and my favorite girl.” He smiled back at you, the kind of smile that reminds you of sunshine that you wanted to bottle up for a rainy day.

He put the car in reverse and of course he had to put his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat while he pulled out. You just wanted to tilt your head up and kiss his wrist where his jacket rode up. You wanted to be close to him so badly, you’ve been trying to find the courage to ask him to hang out, just the two of you but you keep psyching yourself out. You didn’t have anyone to watch Oli anyways and if he wanted that he never hinted at it. Always suggesting things for you to do with the kids. Which you love, having someone think of both of you the way Eddie does is something you’ve never really had. But what you wouldn’t give for just a few hours alone with him, no kids, just being yourselves. But maybe he didn’t want that?

Eddie glanced over at you as he turned onto your street, you were staring out the window, chewing your lip that way you always did when you were thinking hard about something. Usually something that was upsetting you, so he did what any good friend would do and reached across the center counsel to grab your hand.

You whipped your head around at the feeling of his larger hand engulfing yours.

“You okay?” He ran his thumb over the top of it before intertwining your fingers. He had never held your hand before, and you felt your insides grow warm at the feeling. His palm was surprisingly soft against yours, but his fingers were calloused from years of playing guitar and working on cars. The juxtaposition of rough and smooth was more soothing than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just got lost in thought for a second. Thank you for checking on me.”

You smiled at him sweetly, squeezing his hand in yours. Expecting him to let go after he knew you were alright but he just held on tighter. One hand on the wheel, the other in yours, hidden from the kids by the center console.

“DADDYYYYY! I want an icee, a blue oneeee!” Charlotte said in a sing-song voice.

“Okay baby, we can get a blue icee.” Eddie smiled at her in the rearview mirror and she clapped her hands in triumph.

“Oli, do you want an icee?” His eyes moved over to the other side of the backseat as he addressed your son.

“Yuuppp! Blueeee!” He said in the same sing song tone as his friend. He was always parroting her and saying things she said back to her and it warms your heart. He’s come so far with his communication skills since he started school and started spending so much time with Charlotte, you couldn’t be more proud of him.

Eddie held your hand up until he parked the car and took the keys out of the ignition. Squeezing it before placing a quick and sneaky kiss on the back of your hand, giving you one of those goofy smiles you love so much and exiting the car like he didn’t just make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

You got the kids out of their seats and walked into the movie theater, Charlotte and Oliver insisting on being in the middle so they could hold hands too. Eddie showed the guy at the ticket booth the barcode on his phone that had the tickets on it since he insisted on paying for everyone.

“Icee! Icee! Blue!” Oli jumped up and down as he pointed at the machine spinning the different colored slushy ice.

“Yeah baby, I’m gonna get you an Icee.” You chuckled at how cute his excitement was, letting him drag you toward the concession stand with Eddie and Charlotte in tow.

You ordered two small and two large blue Icees and a large popcorn. You go to pull your wallet out of your purse to pay since Eddie bought the tickets but you feel a large hand on yours, pushing it back down.

He already had his card out before you even open your purse, handing it to the woman behind the counter.

“Eddie… you paid for the tickets, it's the least I can do.”

“Nope. My treat.” A triumphant smile spread across his lips and he sent you a wink.

He always did this, paid for you, drove you, brought you little things he saw in the store that reminded him of you or Oli. It’s not like you didn’t have money, your aunt left you plenty of it and you had your job at the diner. But you knew Eddie did well for himself, he had told you some about his childhood, how he grew up with very little and he didn’t want his daughter to ever feel like he did as a kid. So after he finally graduated he and his uncle opened their own mechanic shop. It was fairly successful, their lower prices and more efficient work times drawing in and catering to the less wealthy people of Hawkins.

“Dada I have to go potty!” Charlotte tugged on Eddie’s hand, pouting toward the bathroom sign that was on the way to your designated theater.

“Alright sweets, let’s go potty. Oli and your bestie will go get our seats.”

She shook her head and pouted, looking at you with big round brown eyes, asking without verbalizing, something you’ve became an expert at understanding after having Oliver. Ever since you had all started going on outings together more often she had been asking you to take her to the bathroom. She had hardly ever gone in the girls room, always having to have her dad take her, so after you took her that first time, she always asked.

“Do you want me to take you potty honey?” You smiled at her sweetly, titling your head toward the bathroom.

“Yes! Please! I like going to the girl potty room!”

“Alright little dude, looks like it’s you and me with the snacks and the seats. They have lady business to attend to.” He grabbed the drink carrier from your hand, guiding Oli to walk in front of him into the bright colored double doors that led to dimly lit theater.

You stood outside the stall while Charlotte used the restroom, “standing guard” as she called it.

“Have you ever seen Paranorman before?” You asked her as you helped her wash her hands.

“No but my daddy said it’s a lot like Coraline and I love Coraline so I hope I will like this one too!” She smiled at you in the mirror.

“I’m sure you will, Oli loves it!” You helped her dry her hands before leading her out of the bathroom and into the theater to find the boys.

“Mommmmyyyy! Sit!” Oliver patted the seat on his left, signaling for you to sit down next to him. Charlotte sat to his right and to her right sat Eddie.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to sit by him before you even got here. But he felt like he was a world away with two reclining seats between you, it made you miss the old movie seats, at least then you’d be close enough to reach behind the kids to hold his hand over their heads. You missed his hand in yours the minute he let go, it still felt empty now even as you held the large cup filled with sugary blue slush in your hand.

The movie went as smoothly as it could’ve with two five year olds. You had to shush them both more than a few times and twenty minutes in, Oliver had to go to the bathroom, Eddie took him, he liked going in the boys bathroom just as much as Char liked going in the girls.

When it ended you corralled the kids back into the car, Eddie offering to drive through McDonald’s on the way to your house to get the kids happy meals and they cheered.

The ride was filled with small talk, jokes, and all four of you singing along to different songs on your playlist because Eddie even let you pick the music in his car. He never let anyone pick the music, it didn’t hurt that you had good taste.

When you were a few minutes from your house, just like before Eddie reached over to grab your hand. You took it instantly, intertwining your fingers and looking over at him with a shy smile.

“I had a lot of fun today, thanks for coming with us.” He glanced over at you at a stop sign, his smile sweet and his eyes filled with affection.

“I did too, thank you for inviting us. Next time I’m paying though.” You ran your thumb along his, the soft gesture contradicting the teasing tone in your voice.

“Yeah, we will see about that sweetheart.” He sent you a wink as he turned onto your street, giving your hand one last squeeze before getting out of the car to help you with the seat.

He got Oliver and his seat out of his car, you grabbed your son's hand and he held onto the car seat as he walked you a few feet to your door. He sits the seat down on the porch before turning to Oli and asking him for a high five, he happily obliged, even offering to bump knuckles with him in return.

“I really did have fun today, I love hanging out with you guys, it’s nice… to have someone else to do things with.” Eddie rocked on the balls of his feet with a bashful look on his face.

“It is nice, I’m glad we have you guys. I love spending time with you, both of you.” You were sure the smile on your face was lovesick and dopey but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. “The pumpkins are almost ready to harvest, would you guys want to come over and carve them next weekend? We can put a Halloween movie on, make some popcorn, make a whole thing of it.”

“I’d love that, and I’m sure she would too. It’s a date.” His eyes widen as he realizes his choice of words and you can tell he's about to correct himself so you cut him off.

“It’s a date.” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug that he immediately reciprocates, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his chin resting on the top of your head. You give him a final squeeze before pulling away and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Eddie, get home safe.”

He was beat red with a flustered look on his face, you had kissed him on the cheek a few times now, but something about this felt different, more intimate.

“Goodnight sweetheart, sleep tight little dude!!” He waved at Oli before giving your forearm a squeeze and walking back towards his car. You sigh as you watch him drive away, knowing you’ll be counting down the days until next weekend.

Taglist: @comic-harley @yujyujj @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @bmunson86 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @sheneedsrocknroll92 @melodymunson

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagines #Eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #being weird is cool #Dolly writes

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gaysindistress · 9 months

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Связи (n.) connections - four

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: mob!bucky x reader

Summary: “Did you think you could hide from us? That’s adorable, little one. There’s no where on this planet where you could hide from the Shostakov Bratva and even if you did manage to evade us, the Barnes Bratva would find you. Your связи, your connections, will always come back to haunt you, Y/N.”

Warnings: cursing, Carol not being nice

Word count: 3.4k

part three | series masterlist

taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @unaxv @identity22

A week passes by in a blur of moving and staring out the window while that stupid song, Possibility by Lykke Li, plays in the back of my head. Bucky arranged for all of my stuff to be moved into his penthouse but promised to keep my apartment for me. I think he even offered to take over my rent but honestly I don’t remember. I’ve tried to tell myself that I haven’t fallen into a depression but that would be a lie.

Between having my world crumble around me and then rebuilt by others, it’s to be expected that I’m feeling…awful. That’s not the right word but it’s all that I can think of to describe the feeling of complete isolation and loss of control that’s taking residency in my chest.

Bucky and Sam did stay around for the first couple of days, probably to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid but after that, it was just me, the two guards who never look like they’re doing anything, and two other staff members. Thor, the massive blonde guard, lounges at the kitchen island everyday and flirts with the golden haired cook named Jane. The other guard, Valkyrie, is always within sight of me and moves when I do like a little shadow but I rarely see Loki who I can only assume runs the entire place. If he’s not on the phone, he’s just hanging up or is excusing himself to answer it.

I’m grateful to have had time to process and grief before being shoved back into my life and forced to act like nothing happened. Tony and Steve both have called numerous times to make sure I’m okay after randomly taking a week off but it’s Carol’s insistence on texting, calling, DMing, and FaceTiming that gets to me. I have half a mind to show Bucky and get him to do something about however something tells me that I won’t like his methods.

His question comes in the form of a text the first night he’s not around. It was simple; “what’s your favorite food?”

“Are you really going to waste your question on that?”

“It’s a question all the same.”

“Pho but it has to be from the place down the street from my apartment.”

The next day Jane brought me that exact meal and made a point to show me the note that accompanied it.

“See? Not a waste.”

It wasn’t signed but I knew it was from him. Although I wanted to be angry with him for the part he’s playing in all of this, I couldn’t be. I can’t. He’s just as stuck as I am.

We’re both stuck being pawns for a giant game of chess that neither of us want to play.

A debriefing with Wanda and Carol wasn’t exactly what I thought my first day back at work would entail. I’d hoped for a relaxing day with my head buried in paperwork so I could avoid any questions but apparently not.

It surprised me at first that I would be allowed to go back to work but my father apparently hadn't cared enough to make any terms and conditions regarding me after I married Bucky. His concerns lay in the merging of their lower men and giving the directive of “shoot first, ask questions later” if they saw Antonia or any of her people to their Brigadiers. Neither of those things involved me and seeing as I was now a member of the Barnes Bratva, I became Bucky’s burden to bear.

The lack of rules regarding me meant that I could return to work and use it as a cover to help with the FBI’s investigation. Hence why I’m being forced to endure Carol’s stare as Wanda gives me the complete run down on Alexei. The entire time Carol’s been burning holes into my back and Tony’s done the same to her.

The moment I walked in, he had grabbed and yanked me into his office, demanding to know what the fuck happened. I explained as much as I could without putting him in danger but he refused to hear it. He’d threatened to send Steve after me if I didn’t give him the full story and the thought of Steve lecturing me was enough to have me spill everything. I swear tears pricked his eyes but he was quick to engulf me in a hug and promise to do whatever I needed him to.

“Anything at all, you call me. I don’t care what time it is, you call me,” he’d whispered into my hair and I nodded.

I honestly think if I asked him to make Carol disappear, he would. He might even be trying to do that now with the way he’s shooting daggers at her. Wanda pretends to not notice but the air is growing too hot around us and she lets out an annoyed huff.

“You need to figure your shit out right now. I don’t get paid to deal with children so you better grow up and sort it all out right now.”

Carol is the first to speak, “this isn't safe anymore. We need to call it off and find another way to get evidence.”

Wanda arches one auburn brow, “and why isn’t it safe anymore?”

“You know why.”

“I do but if you’re going to suggest something that stupid, you need to back it up.”

Tony snickers to himself and earns a glare from Carol.

I interject, “the operation is fine and we all know nothing is ever going to be ‘safe’ not when you’re dealing with criminals. Your best chance is me. Alexei will trust me more than anyone else you’d send in. It’ll be slow and you probably won’t get anything useful for a few weeks but sending in more people or even pulling anyone will be suspicious and he’ll catch on. I’ve been made Bucky’s Sovietnik and he’s obviously a part of all of this so I’m already in a good position to infiltrate Alexei’s organization or at least get someone else in.”

“Barnes made you his advisor already?” Wanda asks with curiosity and something else edges her voice.

“He only did it to piss me off,” Carol snips as she moves to make herself coffee.

“I’m starting to think you’re the problem, Danvers. Maybe you need to be reassigned,” Wanda snips back as she goes back to look at the file splayed out on the table. She’s leaning over the table and Tony joins her, coming to sit next to where her hand is on the table. They begin to speak in low voices and I take that as my cue to take a break or make a run for it. I still haven’t decided as I get up and excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Carol’s lurking on the other side of the room, angrily stirring her coffee and staring at the ground so I think it’s safe to slip out.

Alas, everything I think is apparently wrong and I don’t see her follow me out but she makes her presence known when she grabs my arm in the hallway and stops me.

“What is it with people grabbing me?” I sneer at her as I spin around and pull my arm away from her before she can say anything. Hurt flashes in the eyes that I once loved to get lost in but that was before I found out she’s been using me. Now they’re dull and lifeless like a painting that’s been sitting in the sunlight too long. “What do you want?”

“I…” she stammers clearly not expecting me to snap at her and that makes me even more angry. Did she really think I could forgive and forget, move on after hearing that she’s the reason my sister is dead and that she’s been lying to me since we met? The void that’s eaten away at me now fills with molten anger and demands to be released.

“Spit it out. I have to pee.”

“I'm sorry. I wanted to say I’m sorry and ask if you’d come over for dinner tomorrow.”

If I were feeling anything other than anger, my jaw would’ve dropped in surprise but instead it clenches and I raise a brow at her.

She continues, looking around to make sure no one hears a single desperate and disgusting word she’s saying, “please, Oksana…”

When I didn’t think she could fuck up anymore, she does and she knows it by the way her face pales.

“Let me make myself perfectly clear; my name is Y/N and I want nothing to do with you after all of this is over. Bucky already told you that we can’t be seen together anymore. We can’t be together anymore and nor would I even want that if it was a possibility. I will be professional because we have a job to do but don’t expect me to come running back to you because you said you were sorry. It means nothing to me.”

Something shifts in her and she takes a step forward as a dark look overtakes her features, “but it means something when he says it?”

I narrow my eyes at her and scoff. Jealousy is a terrible look on everyone but on her it’s appalling. Shaking my head, I turn to the bathroom and she yanks me back, pinning me between the wall and herself. She leans down to whisper in my ear, “because he’s the good guy, right? The guardian angel who saved you from turning out like your sisters? Is that it? Is that why you didn’t even try to stop the marriage and just rolled over like a fucking dog?”

“No,” I grit out as I try to push her but she doesn’t budge. “Move.”

She presses further into me and I gasp out of anger, shock, rage, take your pick.

“He’s the criminal here, don’t forget that,” she whispers in my ear and I squeeze my eyes shut at the feeling of her breath washing over me.

“I can see it clear as day now,” I whisper back and she pulls away with pinched brows. Dropping my head back against the wall, I use her confusion as my chance to slam it forward and smash my forehead into her nose. She lets out a shriek of pain and jumps away from me as blood gushes from her nose. I can feel where my forehead made contact with her nose and blood drips down my face but I don’t care.

“Tell whatever story you want, Carol, but don’t think you can make me the villain without forcing me to turn into one. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do nor do you know what I’m prepared to fucking do if needed. You are a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

Finally she’s silent and I straighten my shoulders at my victory before giving her a look that would make even Alexei shrink away. I know that someone will have something to say about what just happened but for now, I’ll bask in the glory of getting her to leave me alone and clean up my face after I pee like I originally wanted to.

Tony is sitting on the bathroom counter when I open my stall and go to clean up. He doesn’t look pissed but he doesn’t look happy either. I choose to ignore him as I gather paper towels and wet them so I can dab at my forehead. He takes them from my hands and finishes the job.

“You need to be more careful.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you though? I don’t know exactly what Barnes has worked out with the Feds but I’m sure there’s a clause somewhere that lets them drop you whenever they want.”

I stare blankly at him and he rolls his eyes; what a perfect duo we are.

“All I’m saying is that if something happens, I don’t know that I can help you.”

I step away from him, narrowing my eyes at him, “I don’t need you to save me. I don’t need anyone to save me, I can take care of myself. If something goes wrong, I’ll be fine because that’s always what happens; I find a way out.”

Tony’s eyes soften and he drops the bloody towels into the sink, “I didn’t say you needed saving, I said I might not be able to help. Those are two very different things and this..”

He gestures under us as if the lies are tangled into the air, “this is different. This isn’t a bad day on a case or even a criminal who got away. This is your past. These are your connections that you’ve tried to sever for years coming back to show you that you won’t be free until every last one is gone. All I’m asking is for you to be careful please.”

I nod and shift my stare to the woman in the mirror that looks vaguely like me. Her forehead is a collage of dark hues, throbbing under the surface but the blood is no longer visible. Her eyes are void of anything, any life, any emotion whatsoever but there is a slight curl to her lips, a shadow of a smirk.

Oksana is staring back at me and I find myself welcoming her home after so many years.

The first thing out of Sam’s mouth when he sees me is “Jesus fucking Christ” as he hands me an ice pack. It’s been a few hours so it’s not like it’s going to do anything but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

“You should see the other guy,” I half joke as I take the pack, pressing it to my forehead with a wince and he shakes his head even more.

Bucky on the other hand is silent, nothing betraying what he’s thinking as he stares at me from across the kitchen island. It’s unsettling. It’s unrelenting. It’s enough to make me want to vomit.

Sam notices and clears his throat, drawing me into a debrief about the meeting with Feds. He sits beside me and doesn’t hesitate before diving into how I got my lovely bruise. Only then does the Pakhan speak and causes us both to freeze mid sentence.

“Question for a question,” he barely utters as he leans back against the cabinets and crosses his arms. “Did she threaten you?”

Sam’s eyes dart between us as I carefully pick my words, “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

I raise a finger at him, “it's my turn, what changed that night?”

Vague sure but he understands.

“Take your pick. Alexei’s men came in too early, Joseph was killed, you fought me more than I expected, Yelena wasn’t sedated and then she bit Sam.”

I nod, satisfied with his answer and tell him to ask his second question which he repeats. Sam and him give each other a look before he slips out of the room and leaves just Bucky and I in the kitchen. Jane had left us all plates in the fridge but only Sam and Bucky had eaten. Mine still sits untouched only a few inches away on the island but I’ve been too focused with talking to even think about eating.

“She followed me to the bathroom and grabbed my arm.”

“There’s more.”

Damn, he’s getting good; stating things so that I have to either confirm or deny them but not outright asking.

“No there’s not.”

“Yes there is, tell me what else happened,” his voice is stern and it sends a shiver down my spine.

“There’s really not.”

“So your forehead just randomly bruises like that,” he states with a bored look and gestures to the darkening spot on my forehead.

Suddenly my food looks appealing. He calls my name, softer this time and I let out a sigh before looking at him over my food.

“She pinned me against the wall and wouldn’t move so I made her.”

“And head butting was the best option?”

I narrow my eyes at him, “one at a time.”

“Fine, ask yours then.”

I chew my food, pretending to think of one even though I already have one in mind. I maintain eye contact with him as I swallow.

“How long were you and nat together?”

He rubs his jaw and scratches at the stubble that’s grown into almost a beard since the start of this all. Eye bags are slowly starting to form and I wonder if it’s from me or the Feds or anything other aspect of his life. Everything seems to be complete chaos around him albeit organized to some degree.

“We weren’t.”

My brows knit together in confusion, “what? She was in love with you, she wouldn’t shut up about it.

He shrugs before sliding off the counter top and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “Some things are better left alone.”

“Are you always this frustratingly vague? No wonder Sam is always in a mood, you only speak in riddles and sarcasm.”

Bucky chuckles. “And I’m guessing you have a habit of picking fights when backed into a corner.”

“I was raised by the one and only Alexei Shostakov; isn’t that what he’s known for?”

He nods in agreement with a smirk but doesn’t say anything. We settle into silence as I finish eating and he stands guard with his arms crossed while leaning against the wall closest to the front door. The penthouse isn’t extravagant but it’s not homey either. Steel, concrete, and dark wood cover every surface giving it a showroom vibe and the severe lack of any personal touches makes it worse. The room I’ve been staying in was like a hotel room when I first moved in but now it’s at least comfortable thanks to my things. I tried once to be a minimalist but after years of not being allowed to enjoy life, I couldn’t deny the little girl in me that anymore.

Plants line the window seals and terribly hand knitted blankets cover the white bedding I couldn’t get rid of. While it might have felt sterile at first, the sheer comfort and luxury of those sheets and blankets convinced me to keep them. Where there aren’t plants, I put candles and small lamps so I don’t have to turn on the main lights. My little haven is the complete opposite of the kitchen that feels even colder with Bucky’s cold stare but it’s mine and mine alone.

He breaks the silence before I can escape to it and watches me closely.

“Has she hurt you before?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave in an effort to not scare me off I assume. I freeze as I’m putting my dishes into the sink with my back to him. I know who he’s talking about and I know my answer but I can’t figure out why he cares.

He seems to see the hesitation in me and taps my elbow to get my attention. I’m thankful he doesn’t grab me and I suck in a breath before turning around.

He is unlike any of the other Bratva men I’m used to. The others are filthy, worn, and all around awful to be near from their lives in crime but there’s something about this man that’s different. He looks every bit of the menacing Pakhan that he is, however I still remember that laughing young man who pulled pranks on my sisters with me. The years aren’t usually kind to the children raised in Bratvas but he’s found a way to make them work in his favor and at 34, Bucky is the most respected while fearsome Pakhan this world has seen.

The kitchen light above us emphasizes the dark flecks in his blue eyes and amplifies the sun kissed hue of his skin. The dark blue threads of his eyes rival that of any ocean wave I’ve ever seen and mild concern lurks in them as they bore into me.

“Has Carol…” he starts and I interrupt him.

“No. She’s…she wasn’t like that at all. She’s never even raised her voice at me before.”

“Lisichka,” he murmurs to me and the nickname catches me by surprise.

Little fox.

“Don't call me that,” I spit out and clench my fists at my side before storming off to my room.

Little fox.

He used to call Natasha that.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #mob au #mob!bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes reader insert #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #marvel #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #Связи (n.) connections #Связи (n.) connections bucky x reader

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reputationbarbie · 1 year

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❝you've never been to heaven, have you?❞

A/N: this is my first time writing something for tumblr, or like this in general. feedback is greatly appreciated. this also isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. as a baking girly, i couldn't get this story out of my head. i legit would lay in bed at night and dream about hard-ass chef miller and the sweet baker. enjoy ♡

Prelude Summary: the sweetest baker has a birthday lunch with her friends, effectively humbling the chef in the process.

Chapter Warnings: death of a parent (mentioned), language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), threatening (brief, joke between two girl friends in an established friendship).

Key Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

⋆ word count: 3.7k ⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

JUNE 30TH

“Welcome to The Austin. I assume you have a reservation?”

Of course, we had a reservation.

This was one of the hardest restaurants to get into. The reviews are excellent and they’re rumored to be gunning for a Michelin Star. Luckily, my best friend Madeline was what you considered Chicago pretty. Her charisma and beauty make her a shoo-in for being a model.

The long and wavy blonde hair cascades over her back as she flutters her lashes at the host behind the stand. “Yes. It’s my best friend’s birthday and we have a reservation under Madeline Crown,” she speaks for our small group, shoving me forward as the designated birthday girl. A mischievous twinkle flashes in her blue eyes and her smile takes over.

Raising my hand, I wave awkwardly at the host. “That’s me,” I admit shyly, adjusting my falling crown and sash.

He flashes me a small smile. “Happy Birthday,” he breathes quickly before tapping the screen. “Just the three of you, Ms. Crown?” he asks Maddie, looking behind us at the group.

The phrase makes me grimace. My parents died in a car accident five hundred fifty-six days ago. And for five hundred fifty-six days, I’ve been suffering. They were the closest people to me and left me alone in this world as an only child. The only family I have left is the one I’ve created with Maddie, Leo, and their families. I didn’t want to burden them with my birthday festivities, so Maddie and I opted for lunch with just the three of us.

“Yeah. And we need a booth away from eyes,” the third voice in our trio, Leonardo, blurts out. He shifts, anxious to get to our table and out of the lobby. Out of the three of us, he’s more likely to have to be bombarded by people during this lunch given our current surroundings.

Why on earth did I choose to be friends with a socialite and a senator? I don’t like attention and as of now, all eyes are on us. The sash and crown Maddie forced me to wear don’t help.

His two secret service agents stand upright a few paces back. We’d planned for weeks to get clearance for this lunch, so having them tag along was only a slight damper. “Right this way,” the host snaps me out of my spiral, grabbing a couple of menus and motioning us to follow him.

My feet carry me forward through the restaurant behind Maddie, who stops to exchange pleasantries with an acquaintance. Softly brushing past her, I continue to follow the host with Leo and his team trailing behind me.

The restaurant is situated on the top floor in the middle of downtown. The open windows allow natural light in and the faint smell of steak wafts through the air as we weave through the open floorplan. My back hunches forward feeling slightly out of place in a room full of the fabulously wealthy.

Although I’m not entirely broke, my bakery just got in the black. If it weren’t for the parental death and what they passed on to me, I’d still studying to be a nurse. But after their death, I decided I’d only do things that would make me happy. Now the glaring separation between me and the rich and powerful feels like a slap in the face.

We reach a square table near the corner of the space. We’re still in view of everyone, there’s just room for Leo’s secret service to stand between us and them. Leo pulls a chair out for me closest to the window and I thank him, sliding into my seat.

The host puts the menus down on the table in front of us before letting us know our server will be with us shortly. Leo thanks him before taking his seat next to me, with his back towards the majority of the restaurant.

Leo sighs as Maddie joins us again. “What did I miss?” she huffs.

Rolling my eyes, me and Leo open our menus, “Literally nothing. We just sat down,” I tell her, jokingly.

After some time of reading the menu, the tips of Maddie’s fingers twinkle on the table out of the corner of my eye. Her sparkly white nail polish immediately catches my attention. “Well, this place is to die for. What is everyone getting?” she beams.

Flipping back and forth between the sides and appetizer pages, I furrow my eyebrows. “Why the fuck would you bring me to a place with no fries on my birthday?” I ask her begrudgingly.

Leo flips back to the appetizer page and slides his menu over. “They have baked potatoes,” he mansplains, pointing at the page.

Pushing the bound leather book back before him, I shake my head. “I hate to break it to you but that’s not french fries, Bookie,” I counter.

Maddie puts her hands up in defense. “They’re a potato. I thought you’d be good with any potato,” she explains.

Leaning back into my chair, I rub my eyebrows in frustration. “Yeah, but I don’t even like steak and we’re at a steak restaurant on my birthday. You know what, fuck it. I’m getting Mcdonalds after–” I start before cutting myself off, noticing the server approaching the table. I don’t want to be rude in a nice restaurant, especially one that’s been so accommodating to my friends.

A brunette woman stands near us. “Welcome to The Austin. My name is Lisa and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you all started with something to drink?” she asks the table.

Sitting up, my mouth opens to speak, but Maddie cuts in. “3 margaritas, and keep them coming,” she instructs Lisa.

Lisa nods, flashing a smile towards us. “I’ll be right back with those for you,” she chirps, shifting on her heels to walk towards the back again.

Leo tilts his head at the blonde after we’re left alone. “I can’t drink on the job, Mads,” he scolds Maddie.

Maddie shrugs, giving him her signature smirk. “Good thing no one has to know but the three of us, golden boy,” she says, twirling her finger around the table.

Leo seemingly takes the statement to heart, scoffing and crossing his arms. “Oh fuck off. I’m not golden,” he counters.

Shaking my head, I rub his arm so no one snaps a photo of Senator Torres all pent up. “No, you’re not. You’ve just become Mr. Americana to the rest of the world. But we know who you truly are,” I attempt to comfort him. The holes being stared into the back of my head are proving to be lethal.

Leo’s dark brown eyes involuntarily squint as he smiles. “Thank you, Miggy,” he gushes and his body language softens.

And suddenly, I have the ick from the mention of my nickname. How the fuck did Maddie date Leo? It was years ago but still. I would’ve thrown up every time he opened his mouth.

Removing my hand from his arm, I raise my eyebrow. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I remind him.

“Might want to ask my assistant about that. I wouldn’t know,” he jokes and I resist the urge to smack him in the chest.

Not in public and not around bodyguards who could take you down in seconds.

Lisa returns with our drinks and I pick the glass up, taking a sip of the lime-flavored beverage. “What can I get you to eat today?” she asks, glancing back and forth between Maddie and me.

Maddie chirps her order to Lisa as my eyes scan back and forth over the page. None of the entrees were less than two hundred bucks, and I didn’t have breakfast.

I can’t drink on an empty stomach. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it,” Leo leans over and murmurs to me.

Shaking my head, I lean towards him to close the gap. “No. Fuck no,” I whisper yell. He could put it on his card, but I’d still Venmo him for lunch afterward.

He nods with a toothy grin taking over his face. “It’s your birthday and you’re not paying. Get whatever you want,” He objected with finality, turning towards Lisa to order.

Leo’s deep voice drifts to the back of my mind as I scan the menu one last time, finally ready to order. Lisa comes over to me and I decide to try the steak and crab, hoping it’ll change my mind.

Two more rounds of drinks into the lunch, the appetizers arrive at the table. The muscles and oysters taste okay, but the escargot is orgasmic. The buttery breadcrumbs combined with the sourdough has me forgetting I’m eating a snail. Leo and Maddie graciously allow me to finish off the plate, offering to order more if I’m interested. Instead of accepting, I fight the urge to lick the plate clean.

When our steaks arrive, Maddie claps with excitement. The whole presentation of the meals is rather dramatic. Each dish and its components are read before the plate hits the table.

My mouth waters as my filet mignon and grilled king crab leg is set in front of me. Maddie snaps a photo for her social media while Leo and I dig into our meals.

My face soon changes from excitement to a grimace as I try the main course. This is fucking disgusting. The grilled crab is burnt and the filet mignon tastes like rubber. My mouth is only able to chew a few bites before scrambling for my drink.

Leo peers up from his plate, tilting his head. “The fuck is your problem?” he questions me.

Shaking my head, I finish off my third margarita. “Nothing,” I murmur. I should be grateful that I’m even here at all. This place is way out of my budget.

Maddie seemingly decides to join the conversation and put her two cents in. “It’s not nothing. If you don’t like the food, they’ll remake it. Look, here comes the owner,” She scolds, nodding to the area behind me.

My upper body slowly twists around to see who she’s talking about. The man in question is walking towards us dressed in crisp white chef attire. My eyes drink him in and I notice his curly chocolate hair. I notice a stray curl falling in front of his face and suddenly, I have the overwhelming urge to reach up and fix it.

I continue my shameless perusal of his body, down to his cuffed shirt hugging him so perfectly and tightly that I can see his muscles. My breathing slightly speeds up.

That is a beautiful specimen of a man.

I’m jolted out of my stare as Leo stands from the table, nodding to the security. “He’s good. It’s his restaurant, for god's sake,” he barks.

My body becomes stiff as the tall man moves smoothly into our area. “Senator Torres, Sir. Thank y’all for your support,” the stranger smiles slightly, extending his hand for Leo to shake.

Leo’s hand tightens its grip, with his other coming up to smack the man’s elbow. Oh, they know each other well. “No, thank you. The catering you made for my election gala was the reason I won the election,” Leo boasts.

So this is the famous chef they’ve been ranting and raving about. I was out of the country securing the last of my parent's affairs when the gala was thrown; something Leo was gracious enough to let me miss.

The handsome man smiles softly, moving his attention to Maddie. “Nice to see you again Ms. Crown. Everythin’ tastin’ great, I see,” he charms her with a smirk on his face.

My eyebrows furrow trying to pin down his southern accent. Chicago is a metropolitan city, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he were from Louisiana or Florida. Especially with that beautiful tan, he’s adorning.

Maddie straightens her back like a cannon ready to fire. “With mine? Yes. But with Ginny’s not so much. Chef Miller, meet the birthday girl, Imogen,” she introduces us and I’m rendered speechless. His deep brown eyes seemingly stare a hole into my soul.

Anxiety creeps up my spine feeling put on the spot and having to give a bad review in person. “Hi,” I wave shyly.

Chef Miller’s eyes squint in suspicion, focusing down on the food before fixing his gaze back up on me. I silently thank the gods above for a brief break from his intense stare. “You don’t like the steak, darlin’?” he asks, pointedly.

Oh, fuck off. The man is gorgeous, but his food is shit. But, his use of the word darling has me hanging on to every syllable he utters. Shaking my head, I roll my shoulders back a bit. Put the lonely and horny brain away for a second, Ginny. “Or the crab,” I answer.

Chef Miller’s eyebrows raise and I start to etch the details of his face into my brain mentally. He might be early thirties, but the wrinkles on his forehead hint that he’s been through some things. “Nobody has ever complained about my cookin’. What’s wrong with it?” he questions me in his deep husky voice.

Clearing my throat, I bring the plate back in front of me. “It's dry and burnt,” I pause, beckoning Chef Miller over to stand beside me. He walks a bit closer and when he leans over, I can feel his body hovering over mine. When I take a breath, I can smell smoke on him with an undertone of cedar.

Moving the food around on the plate, I show him his shotty work. “Look,” I point out with my fork.

Chef Miller grunts, reaching forward and effectively caging me in between his body in the table. “I’m sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. Can I get you somethin’ else?” He apologizes, swiftly removing the plate from my view.

Shaking my head, I replay reading the menu in my mind. “No, it’s fine. I don’t like anything on the menu,” I explain solemnly, turning towards him. I don’t want him to feel responsible for my picky eating habits, either.

Chef Miller frowns, “It’s your birthday, honey. I’m not sendin’ you out hungry and upset,” he counters.

Reaching out, I put my hand on his exposed forearm in an attempt to get him to listen to me. “I’m not upset. I wouldn’t lie to you,” I loosely promise him. His eyes snap down to where my fingers are connected to his skin then back up at me.

My hand quickly retreats as Lisa comes back around to refill our drinks. Chef Miller turns to hand her the plate and she accepts it before grabbing some glasses from the table. “Why don’t you come back into the kitchen with me and I’ll make somethin’ special for you,” the offer drips from his lips as sweet as whiskey caramel.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks when I think about being in a room with him. Alone. “No that’s alright. These two have to go soon anyways,” I use the bullshit excuse, hoping he’ll buy it.

He nods, before putting his hands up and conceding. “Ok. Let Lisa know if you change your mind. She’ll bring you back,” he informs me.

He turns his attention back to the entire group. “Y’all have a good day. Hope to see you soon,” he smiles, turning to leave the secluded area.

Both Leo and Maddie bid him a hushed goodbye before turning their attention toward me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead this second.

Maddie squints her eyes at me, before shoving her empty plate out of the way. “I’m going to murder you,” she threatens me.

My head jerks back in shock. “What? Why?” I ask her.

She sighs, taking a sip of her margarita before slamming it back down on the table. “That was your birthday gift, you dumb cunt. You don’t think we know they don’t have fries. They don’t need fries when they have fine-ass Joel Miller. He was practically fucking drolling on your shoulder and you didn’t even notice,” she fumes.

Joel Miller, the hot single chef, is interested in me. I mean, I’m way out of his league. He’s like the working woman’s Timothée Chalamet. “What?” I ask in disbelief again.

Leo crosses his arms and leans comfortably back in his chair, having finished his meal. “Does she have to repeat herself or are you processing?” Leo picks my brain.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean forward a bit. “Processing, give me a moment,” I tell him, closing my eyes.

“You don’t have a moment. We’re ditching you while they turn over for dinner. And you’re going to go back into that kitchen and have a hot chef whip you up a meal, alone. Then you’re gonna have him whip you up, at home,” I hear Maddie scheming.

Suddenly I feel hot, like my whole body just got stuck into an oven. “Maddie! I’m not,” I start off shouting a bit at her before realizing we’re in a public space. I’m not even angry at her, I just feel overwhelmed. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” I bear my soul to her, blinking away tears.

I haven’t had sex since the death of my parents and the cobwebs are tumbling back there. Knowing that my parents would never meet my future partner was a pain that felt soul-crushing. The feeling is just now starting to subside.

Leo reaches up and scratches his curly scalp. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he scolds Maddie.

When I make eye contact with Maddie again, her face is soft and warm. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to push you too hard,” she apologizes profusely.

Tucking a stray curl behind my ear, I shake out the spiral of anxiety in my head. “It’s fine, can we change the subject?” I plead with the table.

Maddie claps her hands in excitement. “Yes, okay!” she cheers. “You know what? Redo gift. Let’s go shopping,” she proposes.

Nodding, a smile starts to creep onto my face. Hours of mindless walking up and down Magnificent Mile is just what I need right now. “Now that, I can get down with,” I point at her with a grin.

Leo chuckles, standing up from the table. “I’ll see you two this weekend, I have some work to do. Happy birthday, Miggy. I’ll give them my card on my way out,” he bids us goodbye.

Maddie waves at her ex-lover. “Bye Leo,” she flirts.

Giggling, I shake my head at her antics. Eventually, they’ll end up together. “You’re the best,” I thank him.

Leo turns around, shooting me a wink. “Anytime, darlin’,” he mocks Joel.

Maddie’s hand slaps to her chest and she fakes retching as he walks away. “Something about him. When Joel does it, it makes my pussy quiver. But when he does it, I want to throw up,” she confesses.

Nodding, I finish the last drink before we can say goodbye to this restaurant for the day. “Ditto,” I sigh, grabbing my purse from the back of my chair.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

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