#ice machine broke AGAIN

[maliciouslove]

when the dishwasher breaks so you have to do dishes by hand at work for over 40minutes

[traught-whelmed-aster]

Pubs, Arcades and Maccies > Clubs and bars 🖤

~

Who really wants to go out and get hit on by random 40 year old men when you can play pool instead ✨

I’d much rather have a drink, play some games and have a mcflurry on the side of the road than get an outfit ruined in somewhere with bad music and a sticky floor…

I would still go clubbing if asked though, it’s like being back at uni 🥰

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: I did my own thing with regard to this request as well as tried a different style of writing. I wanted to implement him being sweet and gentle as he stalked you. But idk if I really did that. This was fun to write though, and my requests are once again open so please send me something. I hope y'all enjoy it so please don't be shy and comment or reblog with your opinions because I would love to hear them - ju <3

wc: 9k (what if I told y'all I wrote this all in less than one day with sleep.)

pairing:morethankinda stalker!Felix x afab!reader

DNI if you are uncomfortable with reader giving in kind of easily. This is meant to be a stalker fic, so if you feel uncomfortable, please do not interact. I made this more dubcon because reader does give her consent, but I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable!

warnings: porn WITH a plot (like 2.5k words of smut...), kinda Stockholm syndrome, oral!fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, panty sniffing, edging, idk what else!

“Who orders pineapple juice at a coffee shop?” you giggled looking at Felix as he started making an ice americano for the next customer in line. 

"Someone who doesn't want caffeine and enjoys the taste of tropical fruit, I guess." 

"Or a weirdo!" you giggled before calling out the drink for Christopher.

He chuckled along with you, enjoying the banter. His eyes watched you closely as you called out the drink, taking in every detail of your movements.

"Hey, weird can be good sometimes. Adds some spice to life, right?"

"Yeah, as long as they aren't creepy. My best friend's ex used to follow her after they broke up, even texting her from new phone numbers" You frowned before working on your next drink. 

He nodded, a frown of feigned concern on his face. 

In truth, he found himself growing more fascinated with you the more you talked. He only applied for the job to get closer to you.

The first time Felix came into “The View” he saw you smiling ever so brightly, giving this little girl a free cup of hot chocolate. From that moment on, he knew he had to get to know you, no matter the cost. 

He bribed the hiring manager with a batch of his homemade brownies. In exchange for a job, he had to make at least one batch a day. He didn’t mind working overtime, as long as he was close to you. 

He snapped out of his thoughts, finally responding to you. "That's horrible. No one deserves to be stalked like that. I hope she's doing better now."

"She is, she was really straight with him after the second time, and he stopped which is good, but sometimes I feel like I'm being watched. I don’t know how to explain it, but especially when my shift ends whenever we are working together. Maybe it's just in my head" you sighed before calling out for the next customer.

He tried to act nonchalant, but his mind was racing. Was he that obvious? Was he being too creepy? 

"I hope it's just in your head," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixated on you as you called out to the next customer, trying to look away before you noticed him practically staring.

"Yeah, me too. Who knows, maybe I'm just being delusional," you sighed, too caught up in your own world, thinking about the late-night fear of constantly being watched. You were so distracted that you didn't even realize you had almost gripped the machine's steam frother with your bare hand.

His eyes widened as he noticed your hand grasping for the frother without a cloth. He quickly reached out to stop you, grabbing your hand gently but firmly, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Hey, watch out, you'll burn yourself!"

"Oh shit, thanks Lixie, I don’t know what I would do without you" you muttered, snapping yourself out of it and getting back to the drink at hand. 

He held onto your hand for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of your skin. He reluctantly let go and smiled at you, trying to act casual. "Lixie," the nickname rolled off your tongue, making his heart flutter. "No problem, just don't want you hurting yourself, you know?"

"I got it, I was just too in my head. I wish there was someone I could walk home with so I would no longer feel so terrified" you sighed, making sure there were no other orders to be completed before ranting away to Felix.

His heart skipped a beat as you confessed your desire to have someone walk you home. He saw his chance and took it. He pretended to be deep in thought, contemplating something before speaking. 

"You know, I don't mind walking you home after our shift ends. If it makes you feel safer."

"You would do that for me?" you asked excitedly, thankful for him. 

He nodded quickly, his smile growing wider. He had to control himself not to seem too eager. This is his chance to be closer to you. 

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's the least I can do. I don't want you to be scared walking home alone at night."

"Thank you so much Lixie!" you grinned, watching the way he reciprocated your smile. His freckles shine extra bright.

He chuckled softly as you thanked him, his heart-warming as you called him “Lixie”. He found himself smiling more than usual, enjoying the way the nickname sounded coming from your lips.

"No problem, really. It’ll be nice to have some company on the walk home too”.

"I hope it's not out of your way though, I don't even know where you live" you pouted, unsure if letting him walk you home would cause him too much trouble.

He chuckled, seeing your pout and finding it adorable. He reassured you with a wave of his hand. 

"Don't worry about it, it's not out of my way at all. And if it was, I wouldn't mind." 

In truth, he was willing to walk the extra mile (literally) to be able to spend a few more moments with you.

"Are you a hundred percent sure?" too scared that you were inconveniencing him due to your paranoia. 

He nodded, his expression gentle and sincere as he looked into your eyes.

 "I'm absolutely sure. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it. I want you to feel safe, and if walking you home is what it takes, then I'm more than happy to do so."

He smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt about his actual motives, but pushing it away. All that mattered to him was being close to you. He took another glance at his watch, noticing that it was almost time to clock out. 

"Actually, our shift is almost done. Ready to head out?"

"We have to make a batch of brownies first though?"  

You looked at him a bit puzzled, not understanding that it was his eagerness that was causing him to forget all about his obligation.  You just chalked it off to him always being a bit forgetful since you became friends with him.

It was a common occurrence, whether it be forgetting to add mocha to a drink or a whole batch of cookies in the oven, Felix always seemed to be just a tad distracted. 

He mentally slapped himself for being so caught up in the moment that he forgot about the brownies. He tried to play it cool. "Right right, I almost forgot about that." 

He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We do that first, then close shop."

"Let's get to it then!" you giggled, walking to the front and locking it, turning over the kitten 'Open!' sign that your manager Lee Know had bought before rushing back towards him following him into the cafe's kitchen. 

He followed you into the kitchen, his heart fluttering as he listened to your giggles. Once in the kitchen, he quickly gathered the ingredients for the brownies, setting them on the workbench. 

"Okay, I'll start getting everything measured. Can you preheat the oven?"

“You got it Lix!” you replied back, quickly preheating the oven to 350. 

He smiled at your reply, feeling more and more relaxed in your presence. As he started measuring out the ingredients, he occasionally glanced at you, watching as you preheated the oven. He found himself mesmerized by your every little movement.

"Isn't that too much chocolate Lix?" you asked looking at the bowl that he usually double-broiled the chocolate in.

He glanced down at the bowl, realizing he had indeed put in almost too much chocolate. 

"Oh, right... maybe I got a bit carried away there." He chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as he began to measure out a more appropriate amount of chocolate.

"I mean you can never have too much chocolate!" you grinned before eating the excess piece he had taken out, popping it into your mouth. 

He couldn't help but laugh when you ate the excess piece of chocolate, finding your antics adorable. His eyes lingered on your lips as you popped it into your mouth, silently wishing he could be the one feeding you the chocolate.

"You're right, but we still need some chocolate left for the brownies," he joked, his smile widening.

With a playful nudge, he continued measuring the correct amount of chocolate, his gaze flicking back to you. 

"But hey, maybe I could save a few extra pieces for us for some late-night chocolate indulgence, just between you and me."

"I like the way you think Lee Felix" 

You fed him a piece whilst taking another one for yourself, savoring the sweet taste of Hershey’s chocolate. Since you’ve begun helping him bake his brownies, he’s always been adamant about only using Hershey.

His heart skipped a beat as you fed him the piece of chocolate, the sweetness of it almost as sweet as the feeling of your touch. He felt a warm rush of pleasure run through him as he took the chocolate from your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"I do have some good ideas every now and then," he replied, his voice soft and a hint of a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

You continued to help Felix with both the measuring and mixing, not trusting the stand mixer seeing as you didn't want to incorporate too much gluten into the brownies themselves. The two of you laughed away as you finished mixing and pouring the batter into their respective pans.

After the two of you finished pouring the batter into the pans and setting them in the oven, Felix couldn't help but stare at you as you both laughed together about past customers, especially the one who tried to jump over the counter to steal Lix’s brownie recipe.

 The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears, and his heart ached with a desire to keep making you laugh like this every day.

"I have to say," he said, his voice slightly hesitant, "making these brownies is always more enjoyable when you're here. You make everything better."

"Wow thanks, Lix, you are always so sweet" You pinched his cheeks admiring how squishy they were. 

Felix chuckled at your gesture, feeling his cheeks heat up underneath your pinch. He couldn't help but notice how close you were to him, your touches sending small jolts of electricity through his body.

He then looked away, pretending to busy himself by cleaning up the workstation, his heart still racing from your touch. In reality, all he wanted to do was pull you closer and just hold you, but he knew he had to control himself.

“Let me help you!” 

You didn’t want him to do everything himself, especially after he was the one who offered to walk you home, it was the least you could do. 

He was touched by your eagerness to help, his heart melting at your thoughtfulness. He wanted to tell you that he didn't mind doing it himself, but the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at your determined expression. Instead, he simply gave you a small smile. 

"Alright, if you insist," he said, handing you a cloth to wipe down the counter.

It was a sight he was used to. Every night after the two of you closed shop, you bid him a quick farewell, and he would follow you home. He was always 20 steps behind, his hood covering his face just in case. 

Unbeknownst to you, he would watch you through your kitchen window. His eyes fixated on your every move. He knew so many of your habits by now, like the way you used utensils to sing along to whatever was playing in your headphones. Or the way you always drank green tea instead of coffee, letting it steep in your owl mug. He would watch you for hours, no matter the weather, just to get the smallest peak into your life. 

He had become a little obsessed, in all honesty. He found himself unable to tear himself away from the view of you going about your day, his heart and mind fully fixated on you. Every time he peered into your kitchen window, he felt a mix of guilt and excitement. 

The guilt, of course, came from the fact that he was practically stalking you, but the excitement came from the opportunity to see you again, even if it was from afar.

He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. The need to see you, to be near you was too strong to resist.

“Hey Lixie, I think we are pretty much done, are you ready to go?" you asked, pulling the brownies out of the oven directly putting saran wrap on them, and putting them in the fridge so they could get a thick crackle on them by the time Lee Know was supposed to come in and cut them for the morning rush. 

He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his mind in a daze. 

"Uh, right..." he said, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, we're all done. Let's go."

As he watched you put on your jacket, he couldn't help but take in your every movement, his heart rate increasing once again. He felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves as he realized he was actually going to walk you home, something he had been secretly dreaming of for weeks now.

“You ready to lock up?” you asked, your head cocking to the side as you jingled the keys in front of him, ushering him to leave the building. 

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, clearing his throat. "Let's get going." 

He reached out and took the keys from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. It felt like an electric shock running through his body, and he instinctively pulled back, hoping you didn't notice the effect your touch had on him.

The two of you began walking side by side, the silence of the world around you causing you peace. You could no longer feel the lingering eyes that roamed your body as you had for the past few months. Instead, you felt a sense of comfort as you walked beside Felix. 

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. He was just so aware of your presence, the subtle scent of your perfume, the way your shoulder occasionally brushed against his...it was driving him crazy. It was too silent for his liking so he urged to start a conversation with you, anything to break the tension. 

"Um, so...how's your day been?" he finally managed to ask, wincing inwardly at how lame it sounded.

"Lixie, we had the same day?" 

You chuckled at his antics, your own breath stable compared to his harsh breathing as he just blinked at you, unable to process what you had just said. 

"Hello? Earth to Lee Yongbok Felix, you alive in there?"

He blinked again, his brain finally catching up with what you had said. He chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Right...sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired." 

He mentally kicked himself for being so obvious. He couldn't let on how much your presence affected him. He was supposed to act cool and casual like nothing was going on inside his head. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to do so with every step he took next to you.

"That's your apartment isn't it?" he asked pointing up to your building. The two of you were just a couple hundred feet away from it. 

"Yeah, it is, how did you know?" you asked, a confused look on your face.

You had never brought Felix to your apartment, in a matter of fact, the only people who knew where you lived were your parents, a couple of close friends, and Lee Know because it was on your resume. 

Felix froze, his heart skipping a beat. 

He had let slip that he knew where you lived without realizing it. He mentally cursed himself, trying to think of a quick explanation. He couldn't let you know he had been the one following you home every night. That would be creepy and completely ruin any chance he had with you. 

He swallowed hard, forcing a casual laugh. "Oh, uh...I just guessed. Lucky hunch, I guess."

Before you could even respond, the sky darkened and fat raindrops began to fall, drenching both of you. The chill soaked through your clothes, making you shiver. He stood there, stunned by the sudden downpour. Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against the cold rain. You tugged him urgently, splashing through puddles as you ran towards your apartment building. The sound of rain and hurried footsteps filled the air. Breathless, you pulled him inside, the warmth and dryness a welcome relief from the storm outside.

Felix felt a rush of adrenaline as you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the building. The sudden rain had caught him off guard, but the feeling of your hand, warm and tight around his, sent a tingle down his spine.

 He quickly followed you inside, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to keep his composure, but being this close to you, holding your hand, was doing all sorts of things to him.

"Here why don't you come up to my apartment, I don't want you to get sick from this weather. You can dry off and we can eat something!" 

His heart leaped at your suggestion. The thought of being in your apartment, of being alone with you...it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. But he couldn't say no, not when you were being so kind to him. 

He nodded, trying not to let his eagerness show too much. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude..."

"I really don't mind. Come up and change into some dry clothes, okay? I'll order us something to eat. Are you okay with Thai food?" you asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator.

 Both of you were drenched, and a puddle began to form at your feet as you waited to reach your floor.

Felix nodded again, his thoughts racing as he watched the elevator numbers climb. He was going to be in your apartment, alone with you, it was like a dream come true. 

"Thai food sounds great," he managed to say, his voice slightly breathless. "I'll eat anything right now, I'm starving."

"I would hope so, you didn't eat anything our entire shift today" you pouted, trying to remember if he even had his daily shaken iced espresso with oat milk that he usually makes twice a shift.

He chuckled at your pout, his heart melting at how cute you looked. He also found it sweet that you kept track of if he had eaten or not. It was one of the many things about you that he loved. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I was so busy today that I kind of forgot to take a break."

 He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He didn't want to admit that he had been so distracted thinking about you that he hadn't even thought about eating.

"That's not good Lix, you shouldn't over-exert yourself" you scolded him while trying to find the keys to your apartment.

"I know, I know, I just had a lot on my mind today," he admitted, feeling a little guilty for not taking better care of himself.

You finally found your keys and opened the door, allowing him to step inside. "I'm going to shower real quick, and then you can go after me so you don't catch a cold, okay?"

He nodded, trying to keep his cool as he stepped into your apartment. His heart was racing again as he thought about you being naked and wet only a few feet away. 

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Just don't take too long, or I might get lonely and start raiding your fridge." He joked, trying to hide his inner thoughts.

He chuckled at the sight of the empty fridge, making a mental note to offer to take you grocery shopping sometime. He quickly took your phone from you, looking down at the already-opened delivery app with your part of the order placed. 

He watched as you headed towards the bathroom, a lump forming in his throat as he imagined you stripping down and stepping into the shower. The image was burned into his mind, and it took all his self-control to not follow you into the bathroom. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked down at your phone, trying to distract himself. 

He glanced at the bathroom door, wondering how long you would be. He was trying not to be impatient, but his mind and body were both eagerly anticipating your return.

You stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind you as you wrapped a towel around your damp hair. Droplets of water trickled down your neck and shoulders, soaking into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and shorts, making them cling to your skin. The cool air of the room sent a shiver down your spine as you padded softly across the floor toward Felix. 

Felix's breath caught in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and wearing thin, clinging clothes. The sight of you, still slightly wet and rosy from the shower, was almost too much for him to handle. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of damp skin, and his heart skipped several beats. 

He managed to tear his gaze away from you and tried to act casual, but he couldn't help the way his body reacted to your presence. He swallowed hard, trying to control the ache in his jeans.

"Hey, Lix," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warmth. "The bathroom is free, so please go ahead and shower. Just hand me your clothes so I can dry them for you, okay?"

"I also left an extra pair of clothes and a towel in the bathroom so it's easier for you"

He quickly stood up, trying to adjust his jeans again and hide his arousal. He picked up his wet clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom. 

"Thanks," he said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I won't be too long." 

He entered the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind him. He leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves and the growing tension in his body.

He slowly stripped off his damp clothes, tossing them towards the door. He couldn't help but glance at the pile of clothes, imagining you taking them off of your body. He quickly picked up your shirt, smelling your scent on it, and the thought made him shiver.

Felix's heart nearly stopped when he saw the pair of black lace panties lying on the floor. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, his heart rate immediately increasing. 

Before he could stop himself, he picked them up and brought them closer to his face, taking in the scent of your laundry detergent essence on the fabric.

His cock hardened at the thought of you wearing them, your pussy pressing and rubbing against them as the two of you worked the entire day. 

He let out a groan before slowly wrapping the fabric around his leaking cock. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you right? It’s not like he was purposely doing it, it was just right there for his convenience. 

He muffled his moans as he pumped his cock with your underwear, trying to be as quiet as possible as the water ran in the background. His only thought was you. 

You when you wore those cute little dresses. You. When you always bent over to get things from the fridge for him knowing how much his back ached. You. who helped him embrace his freckles. You, who was in this bathroom mere minutes before him, fully naked. 

With that he came with a groan, quickly hopping into the shower to ride out his high under the steaming hot water, cleaning your underwear of any evidence of infidelity while he was at it. 

He grabbed the soap and began to run it over his body, scrubbing away the layers of dirt and sweat, and the shame of him cumming on your pretty little panties, only further intoxicated him with your scent. 

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you knocked on the door to the bathroom. 

"Felix?"

He heard your voice calling out to him, breaking the spell. He quickly threw the lace into his pile of clothes and turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Yeah?" he called out, his voice a bit shaky. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, the food just here so I was wondering if you were finished washing up?"

He took a quick breath, trying to compose himself. 

"Yeah, I'm just about done. I'll be out in a minute." 

He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and water droplets running down his chest and arms. He tried to ignore the way your eyes lingered on his bare skin, pretending not to notice the slight flush that was creeping up your neck.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea I forgot to leave clothes for you in the bathroom" you whispered, your cheeks reddened. 

You quickly handed them to him before scurrying out of your room.

Felix chuckled as you handed him the clothes, his heart warming at your flustered state. He found it endearing how shy you were about accidentally forgetting to leave him clothes to change into. He tried to ignore the way his body reacted to the sight of you blushing and flustered, his towel becoming uncomfortably tight for a brief moment.

He quickly dressed in the clothes you had given him, trying his best not to focus on the fact that they smelled like you. The baggy t-shirt was comfortable, but the way it clung to his damp skin and hair made him feel even more on edge.

He took another deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping back into the living room where you were setting down plates and chopsticks. 

"So, what's for dinner?" he asked, feigning nonchalance and hoping you wouldn't notice the small bulge in his sweatpants.

You held up the two takeout containers, "well I ordered drunken noodles, and I kind of forgot what you did. We can always share!"

Felix chuckled again, feeling relieved that you hadn't noticed his current...situation. He tried to keep his mind off the way your shirt dipped low enough to show off your collarbones, and the way your shorts rode up slightly on your thighs. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the food. 

"Sounds good to me," he said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm starving."

He walked over to the couch, sat down, and tried to keep his pose casual. He glanced over at you, noticing how your hair was still damp and your cheeks were still slightly pink. The sight made his heart rate speed up again, and he tried to distract himself by looking down at the food.

He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started digging into the noodles, trying to act like everything was normal. But as he watched you eat, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to dirty thoughts. He could see your lips wrapped around the utensils, the way your tongue would flick out to catch any stray noodle…

“You okay Lixie?” you asked, looking up at him as you ate more of your food. Your cheeks are slightly full causing him to choke on his own dish. 

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice a little strained. "Just...hungry, you know?"

A while passed like this, the silence of the room only occasionally broken up by small talk. The both of you were too infatuated in your food to even register what else was happening. 

"Do you want me to wash up your plate?" you asked, getting up from the cushion you were on.

Felix's eyes followed you as you got up, watching the way your shirt rode up even more, revealing more of your smooth, soft skin.

 He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning, his body responding even more to the sight of you moving around, so close and yet so out of reach. 

He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, trying to compose himself. "Uh, yeah, sure," he managed to say, his voice a little hoarse.

"So you aren't going to have your nightly cup of green tea" he asked as you began cleaning up your table and walking over to your kitchen. 

You looked at him startled, your eyes going wide. "How did you know about that?"

Felix chuckled, feeling a wave of affection for you wash over him. He knew you too well to not know about your obsession with green tea. 

"Let's just say I pay closer attention to your habits than you think," he said with a sly smile. "You have a cup of tea every night before bed, like clockwork. It's almost endearing how predictable you are."

"Felix, I've never had green tea at work, the only time I do is when I get home, how did you know what I drink before I go to bed" you asked, worry ridden on your face as you began to look around your kitchen for anything to protect you.

Felix's smile faded as he noticed the look of worry on your face, and he realized his poor choice of words.

"Hey, hey, calm down," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It was just a guess, I swear. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's not just a guess" you screamed. That's when it clicked, he was the one who had been watching you every night. 

The only time you were followed was after your shift with him. He knew exactly what apartment you lived in. It wasn't just a "lucky guess" as he said. He knew everything.

Felix's heart dropped as he realized the extent of his slip-up. You had figured out that he had been watching you, and now you were scared and confused. 

"Listen, please...let me explain," he pleaded, standing up from the couch. "I can explain everything, just please give me a chance to speak."

"No, I don't want an explanation, I need you to get the fuck out" you screamed, curling into a corner in your kitchen, your body shook as you began to speak up again.

"Why are you doing this to me, I thought we were friends" you whined, tears streaming down your face.

Felix's heart broke as he saw the fear and sadness in your eyes. He took a step closer to you but stopped when you shrunk further into the corner, clearly terrified of him.

"I know, I know, but please, just listen to me," he begged, his voice cracking. "I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I just...I care about you. I care too much. And I thought...I thought I could prevent something bad from happening if I just kept an eye on you."

"How were you helping? You were the one who was causing everything" you continued to sob.

He wanted to deny your accusations, but he knew he couldn't. He had been the one stalking you, following you home every night and watching you from afar. 

He had justified it to himself, telling himself it was for your own good, but now that you knew the truth, he could see how creepy and wrong it was.

 He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, his voice quiet and shaky. "You're right. I was the one causing everything."

He took a tentative step closer to you but stopped again when he saw the look of fear flash in your eyes. 

"But I...I never meant to scare you," he said, his own eyes tearing up. 

"I just...I just couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you, and I thought if I just kept a constant eye on you, I could prevent it."

"Protect me how!" you screamed, "why would you do this to me?" you continued to sob. 

"I just wanted to make you feel good sweetheart" he whispered, bending down to capture your face in his hand, brushing away your tears.

He brought down his lips towards your before kissing you, the taste of your tears infiltrating his mouth as you attempted to push him away.

He could feel you trying to push him away, but he just held on tighter, refusing to let you go. He knew he didn't deserve to kiss you, not after everything he had done, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to feel your lips on his, even if just for a moment.

"Please sweetheart, want to make you feel good. Won't you be a good baby and take it?" he grinned, watching the way your lips puffed out from him ever so slightly nibbling on it.  Your tears streaking your flushed red cheeks. You looked at him meekly before nodding, taking your hand in his, not understanding how he had such an effect on you.

Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.

“Such a good girl for me” he muttered into your lips. 

Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.

He pushed you backward until your back hit the wall, pinning you against it with his body. He broke the kiss for a moment to look into your eyes, his own eyes darkened with a possessive lust. 

"You're mine, you know that right?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse. "You belong to me and only me."

You whined as he continued to caress your face. 

Felix chuckled again as you whined and leaned into his touch, the sound of your needy whines only fueling his desire for you. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin,

"That's right, sweetheart. You're mine, and I'm never letting go. You're going to do everything I say, and you're going to love every second of it."

He nipped at your earlobe, his hands roaming your body, feeling the soft skin of your back through your shirt.

"And if you're a good girl for me, I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks in his wake.

"Lixie" you whined as he continued to nibble at your skin.

Felix chuckled at your whine, his heart fluttering at the sound of his nickname on your lips. He continued to kiss and bite at your skin, marking you as his, his hands gripping your hips possessively. 

“All needy and desperate," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you."

You grasped his hand and led him to your room, your senses overwhelmed by his embrace, feeling his warmth as he held you close.

Felix followed you obediently, his grip on your hand tight as he allowed you to lead him into your room. His heart was racing with desire and excitement, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. 

"So obedient," he murmured, his voice filled with praise as he pressed up behind you once you reached the edge of your bed.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent as his hands roamed your body. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire.

"Really?" you asked, feeling his embrace tighten as he pressed closer. 

Felix hummed in response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he held you close. "Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured between kisses, his hands slipping under your shirt to feel your soft skin. 

"For as long as I can remember, I've craved having you like this, all to myself. It's driving me insane with how badly I want you."

"Is that why you kept watching me?" you asked, turning around to face him, your hand clutching his face, tracing every freckle as he began to speak.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice low and hoarse. "That's why. I couldn't resist the urge to watch you, to know every move you made, to make sure you were safe."

"I couldn't stop myself from wanting to keep you close. I needed to feel like I had some control over your life, and watching you was the only way I could do that."

"That's not normal though Lixie"

"I know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I know it's not normal, and I'm sorry. But...but I just...I just couldn't stop myself. I care about you too much."

"Then show me, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek and trailing down to his soft, plump lips.

Felix's heart skipped a beat as you kissed his cheek and then his lips, your whine sending a shiver down his spine. He responded eagerly to your kiss, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of your lips on his. But then he pulled away, a determined look in his eyes. 

"Sweetheart, I can show you, but first you have to promise me something," he said, his voice low and commanding.

"Anything" you whimpered, feeling yourself growing wetter at every passing moment that he wasn't next to you, his touch not being pressed against you

"Promise me that you're mine. Promise me that you belong to me and no one else," he whined as he cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to his face. 

"I promise" you whispered back before kissing him feverishly.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You’re all mine now, sweetheart."

Before you could even respond, he pushed you onto the bed, his body following soon after as he settled on top of you. His hands moved under your shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your stomach.

He began to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, stopping to bite and suck at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own. 

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he murmured against your skin, his hands continuing to roam your body.

"How long Lixie?" you whimpered as he began to pull off your shirt. He took in the sight of your bare skin, biting his lip as he straddled you, his thighs shutting yours closed as he began to kiss up and down your neck. 

"So long" he murmured between kisses. "For years, I've been waiting for this. Wanting you, aching for you."

"Want you too" you whined as you pulled off his shirt, your hands roaming up and down his chiseled chest, watching the way his body clenched slightly as you ran your finger along his abs.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as he pulled you closer to him, his hands roaming your body once again.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he panted, breaking the kiss for a moment before attacking you once again, your lips pressing against one another feverishly.

You gazed at him, noting his ragged breath. "Then show me," you whimpered as his hands began to caress your thighs.

"I'll show you just how much I desire you, just how much I need you."

He began to kiss and bite at your thighs, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks on your skin. He wanted to make sure that you would remember this moment, that you would remember who you belonged to.

He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your inner thigh. "Every part of you is mine."

“Yours” you whimpered as he continued to abuse you everywhere but the one place you needed him. 

He loved how needy you were for him, your body begging for his touch. He moved his lips closer to where you needed him, his breath hot against your skin.

Felix's eyebrows raised in surprise and excitement as he pulled off your shorts, his breath catching in his throat as he saw that you weren't wearing any panties. You were so wet it began to drip down to your thighs. 

"You're full of surprises, aren't you baby?" he said, his voice thick with desire. "And here I thought you were a good girl."

He slowly licked a stripe up your cunt, savoring the taste that he couldn’t quite get off your panties. 

“And you taste so good too, could eat you for hours” he moaned before diving back in, his fingers opening up your pretty little cunt for him, allowing him to nip at your clit. 

“Fuck Lix!” you whined above him, your hand finding his hair, intertwining your fingers between it, pushing him deeper into your pretty little pussy.  

He slowly removed his mouth from your cunt, your essence covering the bottom half of his face. “You are going to take what I give you or else you aren’t gonna get anything” he grinned before shoving himself back into you, letting his tongue flick out, swiping across your sensitive flesh, eliciting a gasp from your lips. 

He continued to lick and taste you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still as you writhed and whimpered beneath him. He loved the way you tasted. 

“So sweet baby, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he muttered into your poor cunt as he began to push his finger inside of you, stretching out your whole. 

“Lixie, it feels so good” you whined as he continued to lap at you, savoring each and every moan and whine that escaped your pretty little lips. 

He continued to tease you, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but never quite pushing you over. He could feel how close you were, how your body trembled beneath him. 

"You want to come, don't you, my sweet girl?" he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "But I'm not going to let you. Not yet."

"Why!" you whined underneath him, bucking your hips up to get any sort of stimulation.

He placed his hands on your hips, holding you down with a firm grip, preventing you from bucking against him

"Because I want you to wait for me to fuck you, baby," he murmured, his mouth moving to the other thigh, leaving a trail of love bites in its wake. "I want you to be desperate for me, aching for me. I want to ruin you completely."

His tongue continued to tease you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, his teeth nipping at your skin as he went.

 "I want you to be so desperate for release that you'll do anything I ask," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And only when you truly beg for me will I finally give you my cock” he chuckled against your cunt. 

"Please Lixie, need you in me, can't do this anymore" you whined, your chest heaving and tears began to stream out of your eyes. He had been edging you for so long, pulling away as soon as he felt you were close to your high. His fingers that were previously thrusting in you stopped completely, his soaked face only rising to laugh at your pathetic face.

"Oh sweetheart, you're so cute when you beg," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "But I don't think you've earned it yet."

"Please, I've been such a good girl for you Lixie, please let me cum, or at least fuck me" you whimpered "I'll do anything, anything you ask me, just please let me cum" you whined, tears falling out faster as your entire body shook from the multiple orgasms that were ripped away from you ever so easily under his grasp.

Felix's eyes darkened at your words, his body responding to your desperate pleas. He loved seeing you like this, so needy and pathetic, begging for him to give you what you so desperately needed. He knew he had complete control over you, and he loved every second of it. 

"Anything, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "You'll do anything I ask, no matter what?"

"Yes Lix, anything, just fuck me already!" you screamed.

He leaned down, his body pressing against yours as he spoke into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl, maybe I should give it to you” 

You simply nodded your head up and down as fast as you physically possible, showing you truly how eager you were for him. 

He laughed at how desperate you were for him, pulling down his boxers, allowing his extremely hard cock to slap his stomach, the tip red and angry already leaking pre-cum. 

It took all his might to not cum in his boxers at the taste of you. 

“Please Lixie, need your cock inside of me” you whined, spreading your legs open for him, allowing him to see how your hole pulsed at just the sight of him standing there, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. 

Felix's eyes darkened even more at your words, his breathing ragged with desire. He was losing control, his own need for you becoming almost too much to resist fucking you. 

He slowly bent down, positioning himself between your legs, his hands pinning your hips to the bed to keep you still. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and possessive.

With that, he pushed inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your hot tight cunt wrapping around his length.

You moaned underneath him, his body pressing against yours as you got used to his sheer size inside of you. 

He buried himself deep within you, filling you completely, his hands continuing to roam around your body. He needed to touch you, to make sure that his fantasy were real. 

He had spent nights jerking off to the thought of you begging for his cock, whimpering for him, and it took all his strength to cum right there and then at the sight of your eyes pressed together, your mouth hung open as he began to thrust inside of you. 

He began to move, his thrusts rough and desperate, his breathing ragged and shallow. He needed you, needed to possess you and claim you completely.

“Feels so good Lix”

You kept babbling at the feeling of him inside of you. The only thought on your mind was him. 

“Lix, Lix, Lix” you kept muttering, drool slowly escaping past your lips. 

"You're mine, sweetheart," he repeated, his voice low and rough in your ear. "No one else is ever going to make you feel this way again. Only me. You're mine."

“Only yours” you whimpered out. 

"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."

He slowly pulled his hand down to where you needed him most, playing with your clit as he continued his brutal pace inside of you. 

"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving marks and bites as he continued his relentless pace, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"I won't let anyone else have you," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at your skin. " I'll make sure of that. You're mine, forever. No one else will ever know you the way I do. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I can."

His hands roamed your body as he continued to claim you, his lips and teeth marking your skin, his hips never ceasing in their relentless pace.

Every time you called out his name, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips, only served to drive him deeper into his primal need for you.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to see your face, to see the way you looked at him in this moment, completely lost in the pleasure and ecstasy he was giving you.

“Aren’t you a good girl for me?” he asked, slightly slapping your cheek to get a response

“Yes!” you screamed as he began to push your legs back, his cock pressing deeper inside of you, hitting your g-spot every time he rutted his hips inside of you. 

“Gonna cum” you moaned as he continued his brutal pace. 

“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?” he growled into your ear, chasing his own high. 

His hips continued to slam into you, his breathing ragged and wild. He couldn't get enough of you, couldn't get close enough. He needed you, needed to claim every part of you as his own.

Felix growled low in his throat as you screamed that you were close to cumming. The sound of your ecstasy only fueled his own need and desire for you. He wanted to bring you to the edge, to make you lose all control beneath him.

"Not yet," he growled in your ear. "You're not coming without me."

His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and biting their way down to your collarbone. His hips began to move faster, his breathing becoming more ragged as he continued to drive you towards the edge of ecstasy.

"You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel it. I can feel how close you are for me. Your walls are clenching around me like a fucking vice, but you're not going to come yet, not until I say so." his pace is relentless and unceasing.

You continued to moan his name, like a fucking chant and he couldn't resist your desperate plea any longer. He could see how close you were to your release, how your body was tense and trembling beneath him. He loved seeing you so desperate for him.

"Come for me. Let go, sweetheart. Let me hear you cry out my name."

“Felix!” you screamed one last time before letting go.

He continued to move his hips through your climax, his body trembling and shaking with the effort. His pace became more irregular and erratic as he approached his own release. He could feel himself nearing the edge, could feel the pressure building within him.

"Sweetheart," he gasped, his voice thick with need and desire. "I'm...I'm going to come. I can't hold on much longer."

“Come inside, please come inside of me” you whined, your body becoming more and more overstimulated as he continued to rut into you. It was easy to reach your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as Felix could feel his control slipping. His body was wracked with tremors and shivers as he neared his release. Your words only drove him closer to the edge, his body responding to your plea without hesitation.

"Yes," he gasped, his voice barely more than a guttural moan. 

His hips slammed into you with one final, rough thrust, his release crashing over him like a wave. He groaned your name, his arms wrapping around you tightly to keep you close as he lost himself in the ecstasy of his climax. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

“So baby, how about some green tea?” he giggled, pulling your body into him. 

“Just wanna stay like this” you whined as he kissed the top of your head, covering the two of you with the blanket.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. "All mine. No one else gets to have you, no one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to know you the way I do. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: MDNI, happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au, unedited

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his fingers slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. He pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[spideyanakin]

10 things i hate about you - chapter 6

eddie munson x harrington!reader

summary - a new rule strikes the Harrington household: if Steve wishes to date ever again, his sister needs to find a boyfriend first. As Steve becomes desperate and thinks of everything in his power to set her up, only one guy comes to mind that will take up a challenge such as that: Eddie Munson.

warnings - the moment you have all been dreading (I'm half sorry), mentions of death, eddie and his questionable dares, joyce buying christmas lights in april, some fluffy fluff, and ofc; a sprinkle of angst

word count - 8.8k

thank you to the amazing @inknopewetrust for proof reading most of this series <3

series masterlist

eddie munson masterlist

"Eds!" Gareth clapped his hands in front of his friend's face. 

“What?”

"You're sulking"

"I'm not sulking."

"Why are you sulking?" 

There was a pause, a short, challenging silence slithering between the trays of food and drinks before Eddie spoke again with solemn words;  "I think I'm in love with her." 

And just as the words left Eddie's lips; Gareth huffed loudly alongside two other Hellfire boys. Gareth sent a piercing glare towards his dungeon master–ripping a piece of white bread from his tray and throwing said piece towards Eddie’s face, making it land in his curls.

“Hey! What was that for?” Eddie swatted the bread away, watching with raised eyebrows as his three closest friends fished for something in their pockets; simultaneously pulling out twenty dollar bills. Eddie watched, eyebrows creasing to a frown as the three twenty dollar bills traveled across the table; right into Oliver’s hand.

"Did you have to say love?" Jeff whined.

"Yeah, the bet was lower at like, or really liked," Gareth gruffed, Oliver simply shrugged while Eddie stared—too dumbfounded to speak. The blonde guitarist counted his money before neatly folding it and placing it in his back pocket.

"I'm going to pretend like you guys haven't betted on me," Eddie said before poking his fork around his plate, attention focused on the carotte he was making dance across the paper. “Anyways, it’s not that bad, you guys should be happy for me!”

"Yes it's bad, terrible even!" Oliver dropped his can of mountain dew, drops spilling out from the harsh clatter of it against the table–and Eddie gulped when he made eye contact with the daggers in Oliver’s eyes.

Unfortunately, all his lost heart could do was look back at him like a lost puppy–big eyes pleading for help rather than judgment, and just for a moment–Oliver caved. 

A short sigh escaped the blonde’s lips, and he leaned back on his chair in thought. That action caused a new silence, one filled with short huffs and glances from the boys; right until Eddie broke it again.

"I know," he pushed his tray away before leaning back, imitating his guitarist, "I don't know what to do."

"Call the deal off?" Gareth suggested.

"Yeah, that's the most obvious thing, Gareth!" Eddie almost screamed. "One problem; Steve keeps handing me bills like he’s a fucking ATM machine. I have three hundred fucking dollars from him that I refuse to use!"

"I thought that's what you wanted, extra cash," Oliver’s voice was dry, and it almost made Eddie flinch.

"I don’t think I ever took the deal for the money…” He closed his eyes, sighing through his nose, “I think she kind of always fascinated me.”

“So, let me get this straight. Instead of just asking the girl out, you made a deal with her brother that he’d pay you to go out with her?”

“Kind of?” He winced at his own words. “I didn’t realise how fucked up this whole situation was!”

“As if we hadn’t warned you!” Olivier exclaimed, tone almost condescending which sent a new pang across Eddie’s chest. 

He didn’t want this. He didn’t need judgment from his best friends, his own internal turmoil was enough.

He was asking for help and Oliver was throwing hard cold judgment across his face like the iced daggers he’d write about for his campaigns.

He felt like Boromir. Tempted by the worst of forces–hypnotized by his mistakes, too enticed to step back–and now he was paying the consequences, as invisible arrows were shot right through his heart.

“Hey calm down Ol’,” Gareth defended, humming in the best soothing tone he could muster; “screaming at Eddie won’t make this any better for him.”

“Right, because he so understood when we told him this was a bad idea three weeks ago,” and with his words, the table fell silent.

Everyone looked at each, carefully assessing the situation and how to proceed. Would anyone dare to break the silence? Even Jeff wondered if he could chew his food and finish his lunch without all eyes turning to him.

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest in subconscious defense—gaze to the side and fixed on the back of a random blue cafeteria chair.

He truly didn’t know what to do. Everything in him wanted to cancel this stupid deal, tell you the truth and just hope that you wouldn’t hate him forever. 

Or maybe he could call the deal off and never say a thing—but he’d have to live with that secret for the rest of your relationship.

But thinking about the possibility that you could discover the deal on your own made him shiver. He knew that would hurt you the most, that you’d most, probably, definitely hate him for the rest of your days, and he could say goodbye to ever even being close to you again.  

“Hey boys,” your sweet voice broke the undeniable tension, and like a bee pulled towards honey; Eddie turned his full attention to you.

He didn’t know if you noticed the energy, but if you did you didn’t say anything. He did notice your shoulder tense as every eye around the table turned to you, an oldy intimidating silence slithering up your spine–but the second Eddie’s hand reached your waist, it dissolved into a content smile.

“What were you talking about, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Spring Fling.” 

“Our next performance.”

“A campaign.”

Eddie flinched, internally cringing at the multitude of answers that rang across the table at the same time.

“O-ok?” You raised an eyebrow, hand resting against Eddie’s shoulder–silently asking for clarification.

“Mainly, Spring Fling, babe,”

“Ah,” you squeezed his shoulder, already pouting before the next words came out of you, “will you be mad if I say no to going?”

“I get you for not wanting to go,” Oliver chimed before chugging the end of his mountain dew.

“Yeah, staying home too?” You asked.

“Oh no, I’m going, don’t know why though,” and as the words left his mouth, he eyed knowingly at Gareth. 

“See, Eddie! Olivier is going! Gareth is saved! We don’t have to go!” You squeezed his shoulder and Eddie gulped. This was not going to be easy.

“Y-yeah,” he could barely reply and Gareth shot him a quizzical look. 

Eddie was digging his grave right then and there. 

He really needed to break that damn deal.

~

“Hey Y/n,” Nancy caught up with you, ponytail bouncing as she ran the short distance between the cafeteria door and the lockers.

“What’s up?” You smiled once she was at your level, closing your locker and tightening the notebooks you were holding as you continued your way through the mass of students.

“Have you seen Barb?”

“No,” you frowned. “I haven’t seen her all day, actually, I was going to ask you. She didn’t have lunch with you?”

You watched her frown deepen, “no, she wasn’t there, I sat with Steve and his friends. I–um I haven’t seen her since yesterday at your place.”

“Oh, well I’m sure she’s fine, probably called in sick or something,” but your words didn’t soothe Nancy’s worries.

“I called her mom,” she averted her stare from yours.

“And?”

“She didn’t come home yesterday, or this morning.”

“Oh,” your heart sank down to your stomach, the uneasy feeling threatening to swallow you whole.

“Are you sure she left your place last night?”

“Yeah,” you matched her frown. “You don’t think-?”

“That she disappeared like Will?” 

“I don’t know… This whole situation just seems odd…” You looked around, maybe in search of something, just to be met with the mass of students that walked through the maze of hallways that was Hawkins High. No one seemed bothered; no one looked worried or stirred by what was silently unfolding in the city.

“Yeah…”

You brought your gaze back to Nancy, trying to hunt for a topic to change the subject–anything that could hook both your attentions elsewhere.

Then you saw it: the bright pink and yellow poster for Spring Fling. You huffed, ripping the poster from the wall and crumbling the paper, just to throw it in the nearest trash. An attempt at rebellion, maybe.

“Who the heck would go to that antiquated mating ritual.”

“I would!”

“Do you seriously want to get all dressed up so some rando with a boner dressed up in the first suit he found at Gap can feel you up while you’re forced to listen to a band that by definition ‘blows’?”

She scoffed, “the rando in question is your brother, may I add.”

“My brother?” You raised your eyebrows, “but I’m not going, he won’t be allowed to go.”

“You’re not?” She squeaked, eyes darting to your hands as you unfolded the wires of your walkman. “Steve told me you would. I think he assumed Eddie asked you.”

“Steve has no business assuming what I will or will not do, and Eddie has asked me, I told him no.”

“Why? I thought you liked Eddie.”

“Going with someone I like, still doesn’t change the fact that I find these gatherings dumb,” you accentuated your words by harshly placing your headphones around your neck, and locking your walkman onto your backpocket.

“Are you sure you won’t go? Just for me? Just so Steve will go, and by extension I will?” Her big blue eyes pleaded, lips forming into a pout, and for a split second you faltered, wondering if you could do this for your friend.

“I’ll see.”

“You are incorrigible,” she rolled her eyes, already knowing this meant no.

“Indeed I am,” you looked around, gaze flickering from the lockers to Nancy, “so do tell me, you and Steve last night, hm?” 

“Oh, shut up!” Her shriek made you giggle, and you would have continued teasing her if not for the hands that latched onto your waist, you jumped, shrieking before feeling yourself getting picked up into the air.

You immediately recognized the laugh that echoed in your ear, and Nancy’s smile gave the owner of those hands even more away.

“Eddie, let me down!” You giggled in echo with him, hands wrapping around his own before he dropped you back on your feet.

“Don’t you have a class to get to?” You mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Mrs. Day called in sick, I have a free period.”

“Oh lucky,” you hummed, shoulders slumping at the anticipation of your next hour.

“Eddie?” Nancy spoke, making Eddie’s curls brush your cheek as he turned to face your friend. “Have you seen Barb by any chance?”

“Not since yesterday,” he shook his head and he sensed the way you tense up in his arms. “Everything ok?”

“We think she’s missing.”

“Missing? Like the Byers kid?”

“According to her mom, she didn’t come home last night, and skipping school isn’t like her,” Nancy bit her lip as she looked to the side.

“I mean, maybe she did. I’m not one to say that skipping school isn’t fun,” Eddie concluded, smirking slightly. He knew that this subject was reaching a dead end, and he sighed before turning his attention back to you. “What are you doing after school?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I found this new card game at the comics shop, and maybe if the game gets boring I can teach you D and D.”

“Are you asking me out on a game date?”

“Are you saying yes?” Instead of answering directly with words, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, muttering your answer as you pulled away. 

“If you two will stop face fucking in the hallway, we’ve got class,” maybe it was jealousy that your brother wasn’t as sweet as Eddie picking at her stomach, or the stress from Barb stacking up, but she ripped her stare away from the two of you to stare at bright blue lockers on the other side.

“Sorry,” you giggled, slipping out of Eddie’s arms after stealing one last kiss. 

“I’ll see you after class, Eds.”

~

“What do you think they’re up to?” Your hand gripped Eddie’s a little tighter as you watched your brother and his friends laugh towards Johnathan. The poor Byers brother was being thrown around by the greedy hands of your idiot brother, the grim look on his face turned to disgust and anguish. You watched your brother, a loud chuckle ripping from his mouth. Your frown deepened as Tommy gave him one last push, Steve snatching pieces of paper from his grip.

Jonathan watched as Steve and Carol ripped to shreds the papers, they all laughed one last time; Tommy giving him a last cruel shove that almost made him trip before walking away. 

You took closer steps towards the parking–maybe in a quick attempt to help, but unfortunately, the group was walking right for the two of you, waltzing away from the mess they created towards god knows where.

“What did you do?” You grumbled as your path crossed your brothers, glancing behind his shoulder to spot Nancy jogging the distance between Johnathan and her group of new so-called friends. 

“You’ll never guess, the perv took pictures of us yesterday!” 

“What?”

“He was in the woods by our place, snapping pictures of us in the pool, even snapped shots of Nancy while she was changing.”

“Why?” You raised your eyebrows, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

“Caus’ he’s a perv?” Carol snickered, “and that’s all he’s found to do with his miserable life?” Tommy chuckled at his girlfriend’s words, and they disappeared behind you again, snickering as they left towards the field behind the High School building.

“Weird,” you muttered, watching Johnathan getting back into his car and leaving.

“You think he took my good profile?” Eddie, like always, pulled you out of your thoughts with a dumb joke, making you snort and playfully shove his shoulder. “What?” He offered a new laugh and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go try this new card game, I’ve had enough of this place for the day,” you tugged at his arm, dragging him further towards your car.

“Understandable,” he muttered, watching as you toyed with your car keys. “Hey, how about we pass by Melvald’s first? Grab some snacks and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” your hand brushed his as you parted ways to climb in the driver’s seat.

Apart from the Metallica blasting from the speakers; the ride was quiet, peaceful almost, as you bathed in each other’s presence. It was nice, seeing the streets of Hawkins with someone you liked by your side–it almost all seemed less… daunting. It was soothing, knowing you’d get to have careless laughter over junk food and a pack of cards, letting the week’s worries and Steve’s torment slip away for just a few hours. 

You almost smiled when the red writing of Melvald’s came to view, stomach already growling not with hunger, but envy for cookies and candies–anything that could be considered a bad excuse for a dinner. 

You parked next to a mattered brown truck, mud stains on its wheels and rusty doors. Eddie placed a hand in his hair as he exited your car, a poor excuse at trying to tame his curls, but you smiled when his hair stayed as wild–it suited him better.

Your hand found his as you walked into Melvald’s. The shop seemed pretty empty apart from a few stray heads bopping out of aisles. 

“Afternoon,” you smiled at the owner behind the counter, he nodded before you both headed for the cookie aisle, grabbing one of those cheap red plastic baskets on the way.

“What are your favorites?” You hummed playfully as you scanned the shelves.

“I’d say Oreos are good, or um,” he thought, fingers going over his lips in thought. “Chips Ahoy! I love Chips Ahoy” 

“The white chocolate fudge ones are the best,” you turned to Eddie and watched his face turn in pure horror. 

“What did you just say?”

“That the white chocolate fudge cookies are the best?”

“I think you hit your head too hard as a kid, sweetheart. The normal milk chocolate ones taste so much better.”

“Hey! That is so not true,” you pressed on.

“They’re so sweet,” he scrunched his nose, “makes you sick if you eat too much.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, jokingly vexed at his hatred for your favorite.

“Oh my god, I used to love these as a kid,” Eddie’s face lit up as his eyes crossed paths with the a small white cardboard box, big smiles drawn over it. 

“Says the guy who called White Fudge Chips Ahoy too sweet,” you narrowed your eyes as he picked up the pack of Giggles from a shelf.

“You don’t want to get them?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, no. I still love these, put them in,” you grinned, raising the basket so he could dump them in next to the pack of Oreos.

“What else should we take?”

“Drinks?”

“Yeah,” 

In twenty minutes spent in the store, your basket was already full with enough food and drinks for the entire of Hellfire. Cans of coke laying against bright blue cookie packaging and other junk food that had caught your attention. Eddie had ended up carrying the basket when it got too heavy, and now it rested by his feet as you waited in line. 

A middle aged woman was in front of you–a toddler in her arms as she fumbled with the coins in her wallet. The baby’s small hands were fumbling with strands of her red hair–babbling something as he watched his mother pay for her groceries.

You were so enthralled in the scene–trying to see how much strength the toddler could tug on the women’s red locks with, that you hadn’t noticed the familiar face settling in the cue behind Eddie. She was almost hidden behind a pile of boxes that laid upon one of her hands, the other gripping the bar of a shopping cart, and you only recognised her by her anxious sigh as she tried to balance the boxes in her grip.

“Oh, hey Joyce,” you smiled, a gentle smile that bled with your compassion and she suddenly turned her attention to you. 

Eddie also turned his attention to her–immediately realizing who this was. He’d seen her behind the counter more times than he could count, and he was also eighty percent sure that Wayne briefly knew her from High School, remembering their short conversations from the hundreds of times he helped his uncle shop here.

“Oh! Y/n, I didn’t see you there!” She spoke, almost startled by your simple greeting. 

She looked tired, like she hadn’t properly slept in days. Her hair poking all over the place, and she was anxiously tapping her foot against the white floor of Melvalds. You assumed she was off work with everything going on, since she wasn’t standing behind the counter like usual.

But what really caught your attention was the amount of Christmas lights she had gathered. At least twelve boxes had been stuffed in the kart, leaving no room for the five others that she held in her free hand. You couldn’t begin to wonder why she had bought everything out of the clearance section, but your heart ached as you watched her gaze falter to the window for a split second before going back to you. She shifted her grip on the boxes, and a new huff left her lips before she handed you a tight smile.

“Is Johnathan with you?” You wondered, eyes briefly going across the aisle visible from your spot in the line.

She shook her head, “he’s probably home right now,” you nodded at her words and watched as her gaze flickered around again–as if she was suddenly comfortable. Maybe it was the mention of her son; maybe a conversation or two about Will that caused tension to seep between them, when in fact they should be sticking together.

Her gaze faltered, becoming softer as she took new acknowledgment of you again. She sent a smile to you and turned to Eddie who was yet to talk.

“This is Eddie, my boyfriend,” you watched the expression on her face change–impressed, slightly surprised maybe.

“Wayne’s nephew right?”

“In the flesh,” Eddie smiled, politely nodding.

“Also I wanted to tell you,” you spoke again, Joyce’s gaze dancing back to yours. “If you need anything from us, you have my number, Joyce.” Her whole face softened, gratitude seeping in through her eyes.

“Thank you, honey,”

~

Eddie’s trailer felt just as you left it the day before. A cozy haven for the loneliest of souls to find refuge on cold nights. But to your surprise, Eddie didn’t remove his shoes once he crossed the threshold–he even told you to wait for him by the entrance with the multitude of bags filled with the sweets you’d bought. 

You watched as the metalhead bounced across his living space, shedding his leather jacket on the living room chair after he had complained that the spring sun was suffocating him, before he disappeared to his room, and came back with a small blue and orange metal box. His card game.

“Follow me,” Eddie swept past you, grabbing the two shopping bags and jumping the small steps out of his trailer. You raised an eyebrow before following him through the grass patch around his trailer, passing through a laundry line that hosted a few band t-shirts that could only be Eddie’s, and tattered work jeans that you assumed were Wayne’s. 

You intently watched as you both faced a small, thin ladder that climbed up to the trailer’s roof. “Can you take one?” you nodded as he handed you one of the plastic bags.

Eddie stuffed the small card game in his back pocket–you silently questioned him, he could have simply just put it in the bag he was holding. But that didn’t stop him from anything, and you carefully observed as Eddie hummed a ‘follow me’, before starting to climb the rusty ladder. 

You landed on the roof with a huff, and noticed that Eddie had already settled himself on a far off corner, the plastic bag neatly placed next to his feet. 

“Nice view,” you noticed. Smiling as you gazed across the sea of trailers, each painted in their own uniqueness. it was far off from the white picket fence houses–a sea of odd shapes and colors, but it was all the most comforting, lively even. Smoke coming out of barbecue grills, laughter spilling out of small backyards and the light breeze making the bright colored laundry dance. 

“You like it?” He grinned as he admired you trot towards him. 

“I love it,” you settled beside him on the floor, dropping your bag next to the other one and started fishing inside of it for your well earned snacks.

Your hands settled for a pack of oreos, settling it in your lap as you wiggled yourself to be more comfortable. 

"This feels like that one Elton John song."

"Which one?" He raised a playful eyebrow.

"We sat on the roof," your soft voice hummed, slithering into the soft breeze and to Eddie’s ears.

“Kicked off the moss,” he hummed along with you, making a giggle escape your lips.

“You listen to Elton John?”

“On occasions,” he murmured, busying himself with the bag next to him to fish for a can of soda. 

“Wow, didn’t take you for the Elton John type.”

“I’m a man of many mysteries,” he dramatically sighed.

“Shut up,” you giggled, rolling your eyes before grabbing your own can of coke–popping it open before finally speaking again, “so, that game of yours?” 

“Yes!” 

Eddie grabbed the small box from his pocket, eyes sparkling as he opened it and placed the lid at his side. He took the cards in his hands and started mixing them. 

“So, rules are simple, I think.”

“You think?”

“I didn’t read the rules.”

“Eddie, you can’t play a game if you don’t know the rules,” you giggled, grabbing the box at his side and taking the paper out.

“The guy at the shop told me how to play it, I thought I’d remember.”

“You’re impossible,” you huffed, unfolding the little paper and scanning through the words. You raised an eyebrow, reading through the instructions, “ok, so,” you licked your lips in thought before looking at the cards in Eddie’s hands. “We have to start with the card that looks like the cross path thingy.”

“Ok,” Eddie listened before flipping through the cards and placing said card in between the two of you; right next to the oreo pack. 

“Wait, Eddie.”

“What?”

“It’s from three to eight players,” you giggled. “Eddie, we can’t play.”

“What?” His eyes widen, ripping the rule book from your hands. “Oh,” he hummed, realization hitting. “Well, this sucks.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” you giggled, grabbing a new oreo.

He sighed, placing the cards back in their box before dropping them at his side, sharing a gaze with you. 

“What should we do?”

“Dunno,”

~

The sun had started to set across the trailer park, and a tumble of giggles seemed to be the main theme of your afternoon. One lone cookie was left in the Chips Ahoy pack, and the stacks of plastic wrappers and cans were starting to pile up; a show of the evening slowly dying out into night. 

“Ok, ok,” you giggled, leaning closer to Eddie. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you raised an eyebrow at his reply, a smirk dancing across your lips.

“I dare you to compliment your neighbor’s dinner,” your gaze traveled to the elderly couple eating in the garden beside Eddie’s trailer. They looked happy–a couple who danced through time together. You could faintly hear their conversation in the distance, but barely making out words, and if Eddie shouted just enough he could easily spring a conversation.

“That’s so stupid,” he grinned.

“I know,” you giggled back and Eddie rolled his eyes before turning around to face his neighbor’s garden. 

He took a second to observe. The barbecue grill on the opposite side was still smoking from its use, and he spotted the home made burgers on their plates. That would be easy to compliment. Plus, Eddie didn’t mind, Wayne was on good terms with them, maybe less so Eddie as he often bothered them when playing guitar. But if the odd comment could bring a good laugh out of the two of you, then Eddie would gladly plunge into your dare. 

“Hey! Mr. Carol!” The elder man turned from his grill as the call reached his ear. “Good job on the burgers! They smell amazing!” You had to place a hand over your mouth to stop the giggles from tumbling like a waterfall as you watched the poor man’s face twist in an awkward smile, both of his eyebrows raised to the sky as he watched his teenage neighbor send him a compliment from his trailer’s roof. 

“Thanks Eddie.” The man awkwardly replied and Eddie saluted him before turning back around to you.

“Happy?”

“He looked so confused.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Eddie smiled with you, grabbing another oreo, before mumbling with a mouthful, “truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you smiled, keeping your gaze on Eddie as you grabbed the last Chip’s Ahoy, crumpling the wrapper in your hands and throwing it to the side to join the pile. 

“I dare you to take off your top,” your eyes went wide at his request.

“And flash the whole trailer park?” You shrieked and a loud laugh tumbled from Eddie.

“Well, already you did it for me once,” he dramatically sighed, poking at your ribs, creating another laugh to leave you. 

“I did it to save your ass.” 

“I know, I'm only kidding,” he smirked. “I’ll keep that dare for another time,” he smiled, knocking at you before looking down at the oreo’s in between you, “I dare you to fill your mouth with as many oreos as you can.”

“and?”

“If you manage to put seven in without almost choking, you get a prize.”

“Why seven?”

“Because that’s my record.”

“That’s so stupid,” you noticed.

“C’mon, do your dare.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping eye contact as your hand traveled to the cookies. You grabbed one-easy. The next one slipping nicely against the second one. You couldn’t look at Eddie anymore, the look in his eyes was enough to make you laugh and want to spit out the whole thing. The next two managed to fit, somehow, and you could hear Eddie chuckling, your gaze focused on the blue wrapper in concentration. 

But when you reached for the fifth one, about to place it in your mouth–you caved. Making eye-contact with Eddie. He was laughing like an idiot; watching your chipmunk cheeks with a devilish spark in his eyes. But that look was fatal, and a laugh climbed right through you, causing you to spit everything out to the side. 

Eddie roared even more with laughter and you had to playfully slap his shoulder in order to keep yourself from laughing too.

“You lost, I’m so sorry,” he patted your shoulder, using his grip to bring you further towards him, kissing the side of your mouth.

“What was the prize?” You questioned, chewing the last bit of crumbs that were left in your mouth as you leaned against him. 

“A private concert,”

“As if you don’t willingly do them, all the time.” he shrugged at your comment, making you smile and remember your game, “Eddie.”

“Yes?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” 

“Tell me a secret,”

“Ok, I hate peas.”

“No,” you giggled, “tell me something real, something no one else knows,” you grabbed a twizzler, pointing to him with it once you had taken a good bite out of it.

“Ok,” he smirked, a mischievous glint passing by his gaze. The grip on your waist became tighter and he leaned even closer to you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand before kissing your cheek. “You’re sweet,” he pressed a new kiss to your other cheek “and sexy,” a new kiss to your lips, “and completely hot for me,” you gasped a laugh.

“You are amazingly self assured, as anyone else told you that?”

“I tell myself that every day, actually,” he chuckled before locking your lips into a new kiss, and suddenly an invisible sting pulled him back to the reality of the pact he had made with your brother. “Come to the dance with me tomorrow.”

“Is that a request or a command?” You attempted to joke, but he continued.

“Come on, go with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?” He breathed out a sigh, toying with your fingers.

“I told you already, it’s a stupid tradition.”

“C’mon, people won’t expect you to go.”

“Eddie, why are you pushing this? What’s in it for you?” Maybe you wouldn’t have asked, but Barb’s words suddenly came bouncing into your mind, like an unstoppable bouncy ball hitting the walls of your brain and shuddering through your spine. 

“Nothing, just the pleasure of your company.”

You paused at his words. Mind twirling in the multitude of possibilities. Eddie had been pushing this, but maybe that was just his attempt at trying to be a normal high school couple. 

Would Eddie really want this? Would Eddie really enjoy a gathering full of sweaty hormonal teenagers, with no alcohol, weed or anything else you could think of that he’d use for a good time, all that mixed with awful music? You couldn’t be sure, and you were getting anxious about an ulterior motive.

Barb had made it clear she didn’t trust Eddie, and your heart pinched at the thought. 

You sighed, eyes dancing across the setting sun as it reached further down the sky, casting yet a new glow of colors across the trailer park. 

Your grip on Eddie’s shoulder tightened; “It’s getting late,” you hummed, turning your gaze back to Eddie, “I should go.”

“Y/n-”

“No, it’s fine Eddie, don’t worry about it,” you gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the evening,” you stood from his grip, dusting the crumbs from your jeans before nodding back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~

The next morning, you opened your locker, just for a bright neon pink paper to slip out of it, flying down just to land on your feet. 

You huffed, gladly stepping on it. It hadn’t even happened yet, and you already had enough of this stupid dance. 

You wanted to throw up, first Will, and now no one seemed to even blink twice about Barbara. Maybe if she had been some popular cheerleader, a Tammy Thompson, or a rising star like Chrissy Cunningham she would have the whole town at her feet trying to find her, caring for her. And a part of you wondered if anyone would even care if you would ever go missing yourself..

"Are they really still throwing Spring Fling when two students are missing?" You gazed at Eddie who was leaning against your neighboring locker, fumbling with his walkman. 

“Is Barb officially missing now?”

“Police thinks she ran away,” you angrily stuffed some books in your locker, Eddie noticing the stress lines forming on your forehead.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday, I should have gotten the hint the first time you told me you didn’t want to go.”

“S’okay,” you hummed, keeping your hands fumbling with the contents of your locker as your gaze stayed focused on its insides. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just- I don’t understand why everyone is acting so calm. Nancy was balling her eyes out on the phone to me last night, assuring me that Barb was gone missing. She went on, telling me her car was still parked not far from mine and saying that she felt a creepy presence in my backyard,” you finally managed to neatly place the books like you wanted, and closed your locker door in a loud, angered thud. 

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” you chewed on your nails and Eddie didn’t know what to say, or what to even do with his own hands. “What if something bad has happened to them? And I mean bad, bad,” you rested your back against your locker. “I can’t imagine what it would do to Dustin, imagine Barb’s parents? I-, I feel desperate in this situation and I feel like I’m one of the only ones to actually care.” 

“We could try and play detective, if you want? I mean, D and D does make you pretty good at piecing things together,” he offered you a short smile and your heart warmed a bit at his words.

“Maybe.”

~

You didn’t understand Nancy. 

As much as you loved her, you couldn’t begin to piece her out. Last night, she was calling you crying about your missing friend, and now she was begging you for a distraction you weren’t willing to give out. 

“Please, please come,” she whined over the phone, and you eyed Steve as he walked across from the kitchen to the living room, giving you his biggest death glare as he did. 

“Nancy, you know my answer,” you groaned–wanting to slam your head onto the wall next to you. “Do you realize that two people are missing, and you’re ready to just forget all of that to go dancing with idiots?”

“Y/n, I think we both need this, we can continue searching tomorrow.”

Was this really the same Nancy you had chatted with the day before?

“You’re in a relationship now, you should understand this!” 

“Understand what exactly?”

“That I want to spend time with my boyfriend. The world is falling apart and I’m stuck home with my thoughts. Wouldn’t you ask the same thing if the roles were reversed? Wouldn’t you beg Steve and I to go to a Ren Fair or I don’t know a Metallica concert if you couldn’t?”

“Spring Fling is far from being a Metallica concert, Nancy,” you chuckled at the idiocy of her comparison.

“But what if Spring Fling is my Metallica concert?”

You fell silent over the line. Were you that selfish? Not letting your friend get that date with your brother and miss out on an event everyone wanted to go to. You sighed, rethinking your life one last time before sighing out; “Okay,” head falling against the wall by the telephone. “I’ll tell Steve to come pick you up.”

“Oh my god I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too, I’ll see you there,” and with those words you hung up, dread seeping into your bones once again. “Steve! Get fucking ready, you’re taking Nancy to that stupid dance!”

“I’m what now?” 

“You’re taking Nancy to Spring Fling,” his eyes widened, mouth agape.

“Oh my god, I love you,”

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, watching Steve scurry away to the upstairs bathroom. You sighed before crossing the kitchen, eyeing for any one of your parents. 

“Hey darling,” as if she knew you had been searching for her, your mom’s soft voice echoed from the laundry room, through the corridor and right to you.

“Right here,” you hummed back, trotting to meet her there.

“Oh perfect,” she smiled, “could you bring this up? Half of this is Steve’s and then the other half is yours.”

“Are you obliging me to walk through the pits of tartarus?”

“If this means, entering your brother’s room to drop off his laundry, yes I am asking you.”

“Fine,” you hummed, grabbing the basket of folded laundry from your mother’s arms. “Also, Steve and I are getting ready to leave, we’re um- going to the spring fling thing.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened. “You’re going?”

“Yeah. Nancy convinced me.”

“Alright,” she let the shock seep through her. “I’ll let your father know.”

“Thanks,” you smiled before scurrying away, jumping up the steps–the quicker you got this done, the quicker you could get ready, and the quicker you were out of the house, the quicker you would be back. 

You dropped everything that was yours on top your bed–not bothering with putting it in your cupboard before waltzing towards Steve’s room. You could hear the stream of the shower, and if you were really careful, you could hear Steve faintly humming a Kate Bush song. You rolled your eyes before opening his door, ready to be met with the utter mess that you remembered his room to be–but to your surprise, it was neat and even smelt nice. 

You blinked in shock, taking in the well done bed, the freshly vacuum carpet and the organized shelves. Even the desk was neat, two pots of pencils stood proudly in the corner, while only a stray eraser felt out of place–sitting next to an opened agenda. His desk lamp illuminating his scruffy writing, creating a halo over the white lined page. 

Once the surprise was seeping in, you blinked; remembering your original mission. You dropped the basket on his bed, sighing before turning back around.

And that’s when you caught the writing across the white paper of Steve’s used notebook.

MONEY SPENT

March 30 - family video $6

April 2 - Maldev’s $2, lunch $5

April 5 - lunch $2

April 11 - Lunch $7, family video $3.

April 12 - Eddie $50

April 14 - Scoops Ahoy $6

April 15 - Eddie $100

The list went on–Eddie becoming a recurrence since ‘April 12’, the money only adding as the days went by. Your heart thumped in your chest–why in the world was Eddie’s name on Steve’s wannabe accountant list, and secondly, where in the world did Steve find this kind of money?

You wondered for a brief instant if Eddie had been dealing to your brother, but then you had only seen Steve high once, and it had been two days ago, at that wretched gathering.

Barb’s warning echoed in your head, and for a mere second you allowed yourself to feel the worst. Was this why Eddie had been bugging you to come to the dance with him?

You refused to make it make sense, but then April 12 had been the day Eddie had first tried to ask you out. 

Your breath suddenly caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart thumping in your ears. No. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be sure of anything yet. 

Nonetheless, you didn’t have time to think about it. You were on the clock with a promise made to your best friend, and strolling out of Steve’s room, you noticed a frown on your face you hadn’t even realized was there.

You let out a shaky sigh as you entered your room, being met with your reflection in the mirror.

You had made Nancy a promise,

You’d have to confront either of the two after the dance.

~

“Eddie, there’s a girl outfront for you.”

“Huh?” He lifted the book from his eyes, dropping it on the coffee table before lazily sitting up, limbs cracking as he did. He looked at Wayne in question, not bothering to fix his pyjama shirt as he walked to the kitchen area and looked through the window.

His eyes weren’t failing him–indeed there you were, the window of your car rolled down and Eddie could see you all dolled up in a pretty dress he’d never bet he would ever see you wear. You looked straight at him through the window and honked, a signal for him to come over.

“What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath as his socked feet walked him to the front door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Even though shock was seeping through him, he smiled at your sight.

“Get in loser, we’re going to the spring fling,” his mouth was wide, agape like a fish as he registered what was happening. He blinked, and stood there a second too long because you honked your car horn again. “C’mon! We don’t have all night!”

You watched as Eddie blinked again before shaking his head and scurrying back inside. You heard faint mumbling from the trailer and his running around. You even thought you heard a loud noise that was most probably Eddie falling as he tried to get the suit of his pants up. 

His hair was wild once he opened the door of the trailer again, but he was brushing it back with his fingers as he walked down the metallic steps and walked to you.

“Where did you get a tux last minute?” You grinned as he opened the passenger door, his slime had made all anxiety wash away from your body and you felt yourself melt a little further into your car seat, butterflies brushing the side of your stomach at the sight of him in a suit.

“Oh, you know, just something I had, laying around,” he shrugged, pretending to be brushing something off of his shoulder “Where’d you get the dress?”

“Oh you know just something I had, laying around,” that made him laugh, eyes intently scanning your figure as you started driving away.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Nancy wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, thought I’d take a break from being a heinous bitch, for a change,” you smiled, and your mind brought you back to the writing in Steve’s notebook an unsettling feeling tugging at your heartstrings as your gaze went back to the boy next to you. 

“Respectable,” he grinned, already opening your glove box for a cassette–fishing out a Black Sabbath mixtape he had made for you.

And for a golden second, as you watched him grin like an idiot over the cassette he had so carefully designed–your worries washed away.

Eddie had been so caring. He had come into your life, bulldozing everything you had trapped yourself in. He brought a new breath to your lungs and you felt yourself again, you felt whole again.

And maybe, just maybe you could let yourself believe that Eddie’s name on Steve’s notebook was something entirely different.

~

Spring fling was everything you had expected it to be. 

Bright colored balloons floating across the air, handwritten banners hanging from every corner, large tables with various beverages and food laying across it. Music was bursting out of large speakers lodged at every corner of the room–and not to mention almost the entirety of Hawkins High. 

Toto’s Hold The Line was ringing in your ears, and you felt your hand grip Eddie’s a little tighter as you walked past a group of cheerleaders, all giggling at something Cameron Ness had said. The star jock was wearing his best suit, a blue ruffled jacket that made all the girls cling to him like moths to a flame. Each of them were in close competition with your brother at the amount of hairspray they had, hairstyles more and more elaborate the more you stared. 

You did not feel in your place at all. 

It all felt intoxicating.

You spotted your brother, long gone into a conversation with some brunette jock named Jeremy. You looked at Nancy–she seemed so happy for once; a bright smile plastered on her face as she leaned against Steve’s navy vest. 

And maybe, just maybe the thought of your best friend getting to have a good time made it less hard to stand the suffocating gym.

“Wanna dance?” Eddie turned to you, a smile on the corner of lips, “while the music is still somewhat tolerable.” Eddie lifted his hand, silently asking for yours.

“Yes,” you slotted your hand in his–butterflies brushing the sides of your stomach as you marched towards the dance floor.

Maybe the evening wouldn’t be so bad.

~

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can you hold my drink, I need to go to the bathroom,” you smiled as Eddie was already offering his hand.

“Of course.” 

Eddie’s gaze traveled around the room, and an unsettling feeling crossed his stomach when his gaze met your brother’s. He was at a different spot this time, chatting with Nancy over a cup of punch.

This was it. 

This had to be his chance. 

He didn’t think twice before crossing the room, fingers brushing through his hair before speaking; “Hey, Harrington.”

“My man!” Steve cheered, and wrapped an arm around him. Eddie awkwardly nodded towards Nancy who had handed him a tight smile upon his arrival.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Steve nodded and asked Nancy if she could hold his drink–to which she accepted and nodded them away.

Eddie noticed Steve was maybe more than a little tipsy as he walked beside Eddie, mumbling jokes and saying hi to everyone who crossed their way. He thought this would be a never ending nightmare, and it would probably be hours before he reached a quiet spot. And after torechous minutes of Steve greeting everyone who met his eyes as he was dragged through the mass of students, they finally reached the quiet corner next to the bleachers.

“So-”

"The deal is off."

“What?” Steve suddenly felt himself sober up. “Why?”

“Because I can’t continue like this.”

“But why? I thought you needed the money-”

“This isn’t about the money, Steve,” the name felt bitter in his mouth–maybe because he blamed him for his suffering, or maybe Eddie blamed himself–but right this minute the lines blurred in his mind and he felt his stomach bubble with a new kind of anger. “This is about your sister, it’s killing me to be doing this to her.”

“Why would you care?” Steve snorted, and Eddie almost took a step back at the cruelty he was witnessing first hand.

Did Steve really care so little about you? 

“Because I’m falling in love with her,” the words tumbled out of Eddie’s mouth faster than he could think, and he had to bite his lip once he realized his confession.

Steve’s mouth fell open wide, the room starting to spin—and this time it wasn’t the snuck in vodka that made him feel this way; but the way his plan was biting him back. 

“No, no, no. You can't be in love with her,” he felt the words leave faster than intended, his own interests getting the best of him. 

“Who are you to tell me what to feel or not feel, Harrington.” 

Steve blinked–stunned, “no, you’re right. But you can’t be falling for her! I never said you could actually date her, you’re going to be a bad influence!” 

“Excuse me? Says the guy who hand picked me.”

“Because you were the only one good for the job!”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m putting an end to the whole thing.”

“She’s smarter than you give her credit for, you know? She’s going to figure it out soon enough, and it’s going to go all to shits. She might hate us both in all cases, but I’d rather her learn about this fiasco the right way.”  

“No-no, you can’t tell her anything! What about me? What about Nancy?” 

“Are you fucking serious right now?” 

“Look, I’ll pay you double, we continue the deal like it was, you continue to date her, and we can just forget this whole conversation happened, okay?”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?”

~

You sighed, fixing a strand of your hair as you looked at yourself in the mirror—smacking your lips together to spread the gloss you had just reapplied. 

You pushed the heavy bathroom door, sighing once it closed behind you–the school hallway staring back at you. You could faintly hear music playing from behind the closed doors, but murmurs from a nearby corridor caught your attention. 

“Did you hear?” Mr. Arnold fiddled with his hat, twisting the material between his fingers. 

“Hear what?” You recognised Mrs. Gilbert–the drama teacher, she was fixing the sleeve of her sparkling dress before a content smile appeared on her lips.

“They found him,” now they had your full attention. Head spiking up like a cat, and breath catching in your throat.

“The Byers boy?” She whispered, the smile getting whipped off her features. 

“Yes,” Mr. Arnold had a grim look in his eyes as he stared down at his shoes. “They found his body at Sattler Quarry about an hour ago… Poor kid drowned himself.” 

Your shoulders tensed and you felt your ears ring

No.

No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

Will, the shy boy you babysitted a few times. 

Will, the quiet one with a mind of gold and an ever growing imagination. The one who came up with creatures, monsters and wizards D and D magazines and Eddie’s campaigns could only be envious about.

Your body hit the back of the lockers, and you could only hope that Mrs. Gilbert and Mr. Arnold didn’t hear the thud that accompanied the movement. Head spinning and heart unstoppably racing as you tried to tame the buzz in your head. You couldn’t hear anything, an uncontrollable numbness hitting you as your fist clenched the material of your dress. 

Why?

Why had a boy full of life like Will had to meet his end in such a way?

What about Dustin? Did he already know? 

Your heart only shattered into more pieces as you thought of him. 

You had to tell Eddie.

You walked back into the gym, the air feeling stuffy again and the music barely hitting your numbbed ears. Seeing everyone so full of life made you sick to your stomach. All these people who didn’t even care that he had gone missing, and now they would wake up tomorrow morning with the news of his death, and move on with the rest of their lives as if nothing happened.

It didn’t take you long to find Eddie in the crowd. He was a few meters away from the door, in a corner talking to—your brother? 

He had a large frown on his features, and your brother was waving his hands around frantically like he did when he got frustrated. You watched as Eddie groaned, a hand flying up to his hair as he tried to reason whatever argument your brother had thrown. 

You moved faster than your mind registered, feet gliding over the polished ground of the gymnasium. Something in you wanted to save Eddie from presumingly a horrid conversation with the gremlin that you were cruelly related to. 

You were about to go through the last small group of people, you could clearly see them from your spot in between the dancing bodies—and Steve’s voice became clearer over the fading music.

“No-no you can’t tell her anything! What about me? What about Nancy?”  

What the fuck was that suppose to mean? 

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Look, I’ll pay you double, we continue the deal like it was, you continue to date her, and we can just forget this whole conversation happened, okay?”

You stopped in your tracks.

Steve’s writing suddenly became clear,

your worst assumptions were true.

Eddie was paid to date you,

And had been since the start. 

[its-avalon-08]

okay so fernando crashing (that one crash in 2016) and y/n almost dying because thats the scariest crash ever, and a little onto how she takes care of injured fernando at home afterwards

just died and already joking (fa14)

the roar of the engines was a familiar symphony to y/n, a comforting background hum during race weekends. but today, at the 2016 australian grand prix, the sound was a jarring dissonance. a tremor ran through the mclaren garage as the race director's voice crackled over the speakers, "red flag at turn 3. incident involving car number 14..."

y/n's blood turned to ice. fernando's car number. the television mounted on the wall flickered to life, showing a replay of the corner. fernando, attempting a daring overtake, misjudged the speed of the haas behind him. the cars made contact, a sickening crunch echoing even through the speakers. fernando's mclaren, a once sleek machine, became a crumpled orange projectile, launched into the air before slamming back down onto the tarmac.

a suffocating silence descended upon the garage. y/n's vision swam. her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle against the rising tide of panic. her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, threatening to burst free. she grabbed the nearest technician's arm, her voice barely a whisper, "is he alright? is fernando alright?"

the technician, a young man with a perpetually worried expression, could only offer a helpless shake of his head, glued to the replay on the screen. every agonizing second stretched into an eternity. then, a miracle. the camera panned to the wreckage, and a figure, miraculously, emerged from the cockpit. it was fernando, limping slightly, but alive.

relief washed over y/n in a wave so powerful it nearly knocked her off her feet. tears streamed down her face, a mixture of terror and gratitude. the garage erupted in cheers, the tension finally broken. but for y/n, the ordeal was far from over.

the sterile white of the hospital room pressed in on y/n. the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only counterpoint to the crushing silence in her head. tears welled up again, blurring the figure of fernando lying motionless on the bed. she sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, desperately willing herself not to make a sound.

a groan escaped fernando's lips, his eyelids fluttering open. he squinted against the harsh light, his vision slowly focusing on the hunched figure by his bedside. "y/n?" he rasped, his voice dry.

y/n's head snapped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and something else, something fierce. "fernando!" she choked out, scrambling to her feet and rushing to his side.

he tried for a weak smile. "so, that's how they greet their favorite formula one driver in this place, huh? with tears?"

the lightness in his voice did nothing to dispel the storm brewing in hers. "don't you joke about this, fernando alonso!" she erupted, her voice surprisingly strong despite the tremor that ran through it. "do you have any idea what i've been through these past hours? seeing you on that screen, mangled..." her voice broke, a sob escaping her lips.

he reached out a hand, wincing slightly at the movement, but she swatted it away. "don't touch me," she said fiercely, tears streaming down her face now. "don't you understand? i almost lost you! and you... you joke?"

fernando's smile faltered. he saw the raw fear reflected in her tear-filled eyes, a fear that mirrored his own. he squeezed his eyes shut, the memory of the crash flashing before him.

"y/n," he said, his voice softer now, "i'm okay. i'm here. look at me."

she hesitated, then slowly met his gaze. the anger in her eyes had softened, replaced by a deep well of worry.

"i know you are scared," he continued, his voice laced with sincerity. "believe me, i am too. but i'm here, and i'm not going anywhere. not as long as you need me."

y/n's breath hitched. she sank onto the chair beside the bed, burying her face in her hands. a choked sob escaped her lips. he wasn't wrong. the thought of losing him was unbearable.

fernando shifted slightly, wincing again. "hey," he said gently, "how about we ditch the tears and celebrate the fact that i'm alive? we can order your favorite greasy hospital food, how does that sound?"

a watery chuckle escaped y/n's lips. "you're unbelievable," she mumbled, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"just the best kind of unbelievable," he said with a wink, a hint of his usual bravado returning.

y/n shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. maybe, just maybe, they could find some normalcy amidst the wreckage. as long as they had each other.

days later, fernando lay sprawled on the couch in their apartment, a bandage adorning his forehead and a deep purple bruise blossoming across his left cheek. the crash, which y/n called an absolute shitshow, had left him with a cracked rib and a severe case of whiplash.

y/n hovered over him like a protective hawk. "don't even think about getting up," she said sternly, her voice laced with a tremor that betrayed her worry. "the doctor said complete rest."

fernando, normally a picture of restless energy, found himself subdued. the crash had shaken him more than he cared to admit. he reached for her hand, a weak smile gracing his lips. "alright, alright, mama bear. but don't you think you're being a little overprotective?"

y/n swatted his hand playfully, the concern still evident in her eyes. "a little? fernando, you could've..." her voice trailed off, the memory of that terrifying crash still raw.

he squeezed her hand gently. "i'm okay, y/n. thanks to you keeping me grounded, literally."

the following days fell into a quiet routine. y/n transformed into a florence nightingale, fetching him food, helping him shower, and reminding him to take his medication. the normally bustling apartment became a haven of forced stillness.

one evening, as they sat in comfortable silence, fernando broke the quiet. "you know," he began, "seeing your face in the garage... that scared me more than the crash itself."

y/n looked up at him, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. "me too." a beat of silence followed. "seeing you walk away from that... it was a miracle."

he pulled her close, his voice a murmur against her hair. "amore you're too good for me. you're my miracle, y/n. always."

the crash might have left physical scars on fernando, but for y/n, it was a deeper wound, a reminder of her greatest fear. yet, in the quiet moments of recovery, they found a deeper strength in their bond, a resilience forged in the crucible of fear.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[justananxiousweirdo]

CAN YOU DO JOOST X AGGU X READER FLUFF HC / IMAGES?? PLEASE IM OBSESSED

YESSS OFC I CAN (hopefully)

Side note: I appreciate everyone who’s been interacting with my channel. I love you guys :)

Joost x Aggu x Reader HC

Joost absolutely loves cuddle time. Anytime you or Aggu are laying or sitting back Joost always jumps at the chance to lay with you. Your and Aggu’s camera rolls are filled with pictures of Joost snuggled into either of your sides. He loves to lay his head on your or Aggu’s chests. Whenever he lays on Aggu Aggu will play with his hair soothing Joost to sleep.

Aggu’s the type to play a claw machine or carnival game a thousand times if you or Joost see a prize you like. That man will be concentrated as fuck trying his hardest to get you or Joost some stuffed animal that probably costs five bucks but Aggu spent thirty just playing the damn game over and over again.

After begging the boys to bake with you over and over they eventually gave in. You cheered as the three of you headed out to grab a few missing ingredients. As soon as you got back home you raced to preheat the oven and get started. Within five minutes all hell broke loose. The kitchen was an absolute mess, they’re was flour everywhere, Joost had dumped a bowl of dry ingredients over top of Aggu’s head because he thought it would be funny. In retaliation Aggu poured the rest of the bag of flour on Joost, but the second you tried to scold them they both declined to team up against you. Both boys decided to grab the closet dry ingredient to them and completely covered you. For the rest of the night the three of you had a food fight and got no baking done.

They both have a million pet names they use. They have nicknames both in English and their native languages. Aggu usually calls you shantz, liebe, Prinzessin, Shöne, or mein leben. He usually calls Joost babe, prinz, Süße, Kuschelwanze, or liebling. Joost usually calls you perziken, liefde, or Schatje. He usually calls Aggu Aggie, honing, or knap. If you don’t speak German or Dutch it took a lot of begging from you for them to tell you what the nicknames meant, obviously you had an idea but you were never certain until they finally told you.

They’ve both made songs for you and each other that they’ll never release because they like to keep some things private and they think it’s more meaningful that way. And if you make music as well you do the same for them.

They’re both the type to ask for five more minutes. You’ll wake up and not want to just lie in bed all day so you’ll try to stand up just for both men to hold you down muttering something along the lines of “five more minutes” or “its too early”.

You three have a lot of movie and game nights. Either you three cuddle up on the couch watching a movie (that took twenty minutes for the three of you to agree on) with blankets and snacks. Or you all let out your competitive sides and get out some cards and poker chips, kisses are also accepted as a form of currency in your guys’ game nights. After all it isn’t about the money it’s about totally destroying your boyfriends in every game you play. They always accuse you of cheating, but that’s never the case, esp when Joost runs out of Monopoly money fifteen minutes in and pays rent with small kisses. Who are you and Aggu to disqualify the blonde from playing?

You three always have the most fun on dates, you go to a fancy dinner, a walk in the park, get some ice cream, that sort of thing. It’s almost always a simple date but you three somehow always manage to make it the funnest night ever. Every date tops the one before it.

Haters definitely get to Joost, he doesn’t like seeing comments talking about how much people don’t like him so sometimes after Joost has been scrolling through those kinds of comments he goes to you and Aggu for comfort, after all you two are the only two who make him feel truly loved and safe.

After Joost got disqualified from Eurovision he made it your three’s hotel room as fast as possible and just collapsed on the floor crying. When you and Aggu made it home to see a puffy eyed and red faced Joost you both knelt on the floor next to him doing your best to soothe him until he could speak. As soon as he said what happened Aggu threatens to march down there and beat the shit out of the people who hurt his boyfriend.

The last two are a little sad but I hope I did good. I don’t get to write a lot of fluff because I don’t think I can do it very well but I’m such a sappy person, a true hopeless romantic.

[cottonlemonade]

Hi! May I have a Medium Cherry Lemonade with extra ice for Oikawa!

She/her pronouns pretty please.

Protecting A Rival

word count: 1074 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with a dash of angst

warnings: mentions of bullying

request: fluffy, protecting you, rival Oikawa

“Oh this is perfect.“

“How did you even get her schedule?“

“It was just there on her desk. Not my fault she doesn‘t look after her stuff.“

The girls broke into hag-like cackling.

“This will be so much fun! Y/n won‘t know what hit her.“

Oikawa usually tried to ignore the buzzing chatter of students walking to the school but your name got his attention. He knew those girls. They, unfortunately, were an (overly) active part of his fan club. This morning, however, their focus was somewhere else and he was glad that they hadn‘t noticed him walking behind them. Nasty creatures, he thought.

In all fairness, you weren‘t his friend or even anything close to it. At best you were his rival since you’d usually fight for the top scores of the class - but he admired that about you. You chose academics instead of fawning all over him (although that was kind of infuriating because why didn‘t you??) He knew that those banshees had a reputation for making people‘s lives miserable and he really didn‘t appreciate that they set their gawky eyes on you.

He should give you a head‘s up. Fair was fair. The only way he would feel satisfied when beating you in Friday‘s quiz was when you were on top of your game.

“Y/n-chan!“, he called, his voice unusually serious. You met his eyes with suspicion. He never talked to you outside of class debates.

“What do you want?“, you asked, coldly.

Okay, rude. But he pressed on, “Can I talk to you for a moment?“

“Is this about homework or the test?“

“Neither.“

“Then I don‘t wanna hear it.“ And with that you took your seat in the first row.

Oikawa pursed his lips. Fine, suit yourself.

When he walked to his desk next to Iwaizumi he saw the three banshees giggling again and whisper urgently, wicked mouths hidden behind their hands.

He groaned inwardly.

After class as you packed up to walk to the next room, he ditched Iwaizumi, Makki and Mattsun and hurried after you. You simply lengthened your strides but in all fairness even that with your much shorter chubby legs was no challenge for the tall volleyball captain.

“Don't you have anything better to do?“, you snapped when he even followed you to the vending machine where you grabbed a juice.

Yes! “No.“

“Why are you following me?“

“Because I like to annoy you, y/n-chan~“

Confused, you scrunched your brow. “Well… stop that.“

By the time lunch rolled around you had had enough. He walked quietly half a step behind you and your friend, keeping an eye out for the banshees, when you suddenly whipped around.

“What is your problem, Oikawa-san?“

Your friend gasped (she was an unofficial supporter of him but out of loyalty to you kept that little piece of information to herself).

“I- come on.“

He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of a side door into the delicate spring sun.

You shook off his hand and crossed your arms.

“Listen, on the way to school this morning I heard these girls talking about … about wanting to do something to you. They have your schedule and everything.“

For a moment your lips parted in surprise and your arms loosened, almost falling to your side but just as quickly, you regained your defiant stance.

“So what?“

Oikawa blinked.

“So…“

“I have to deal with them every other day. Hiding my stuff, pushing me on the stairs, dropping my lunch on the floor. It‘s nothing new. Stay out of it! You‘re only gonna make it worse.“

A new wave of irritation rose in his chest. Then why didn’t you tell a teacher!? Your stubbornness was beyond comprehension. How could someone be this-

“Fine.“, he said with a shrug, “It‘s all the same to me. Do whatever you want.“

“I will!“ And you stormed off. Your cute little stomps stirred up some dust on the sandy courtyard. He shook his head. Wait, not cute. Aggravating! Bullheaded! - Impressive. Strong.

Oikawa sighed and went back inside to grab lunch with his friends. He couldn‘t do anything if you didn‘t want his help. And maybe you were right. Maybe he would make it worse.

Practice was exhausting but good. The coach dismissed the team but didn‘t bat an eye when the captain didn‘t move towards the changing room like everyone else. Instead he handed him the keys to the gym and gave him a pat on the shoulder before he left.

Grabbing the rolling cart with the balls, Oikawa got into position to practice his serves but through the open doors, he spotted an illuminated window on the second floor. People packing up their things and getting ready to go home - you among them. He knew you were part of a book club, because originally he wanted to join as well but upon dodging the poisonous daggers shooting from your eyes when he approached the club manager he rescinded his application and left the book discussions to you.

He shouldn’t get involved. You clearly told him to back off and really, why did he care?

Because it was wrong, for one.

Because you didn‘t do anything to deserve this treatment.

Because you were the only real competition he ever faced academically.

Because you were his equal if not better.

Because you made him push himself.

Because… he didn‘t like the thought of you getting hurt.

Because… he didn‘t want you to deal with this on your own.

He rushed to the changing room, completely ignoring the wide eyes of his team.

“Y/n-chan!“, he called.

In no time he caught up to you.

“Sorry about-“

He was already wondering where your backpack was when he noticed you cradling it in your arms.

The shoulder straps had been cut off.

“I can take care of myself.“, you said quietly.

He couldn‘t help himself and smiled.

“I know you can. But… it‘s just… I would feel better if you… wouldn‘t…“

You halted, looking at the ground, then after a few seconds, met his eyes.

He fully expected you to tell him off again. Maybe even throw your strapless backpack at him. But instead you were… blushing! Enough for him to see it in the yellow lights of the streetlamps. His mouth dropped open. Had you always been this adorable?

“Alright.“, you said, “You can walk me home…“

His smile widened.

“Tomorrow, too?“

“Don‘t push it.“

a/n: Thank you so so much for this prompt. It was so much fun to figure out! I hope you enjoy it!

for requests see here

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Entity + [G.N] Fastfood Worker Reader

Why the ice cream machine at your job doesn't work anymore. Aka a shitpost made with a little too much effort.

[Suggestive]

"Y/n! Machine's broke!"

"So-?"

"..Can you fix it?"

You shove your earpiece into the hands of your coworker. As the person who's been on board the longest aside from your manager, wherever they are, and just sane enough to tell the tale the recent hires often ran to you for help with the issue of the day. Or hour, if you're really unlucky- By now, this place has broken you down enough that you simply carry through the task at hand under the guide of ancient instruction manuals you found lying around. You were used to doing things about your pay grade, but this one was personal.

The ice cream was what kept you pushing. Arguably the only thing edible on the menu, with enough taste to back that claim up. Rich, creamy, and a hundred percent free for members of the staff. At the start of your break or during the end of your shift you'd grab a cone to relish in the fruit of your hard labor with frozen goodness.

You walk over the kitchen side of the room. The evening rush was dying down and it was just you and your coworker today so that only left you and whoever was sitting atop the machine you were sent to fix in the area.

"Hellooo there~"

Maybe it's time you go check on the drive in window. Gets lonely this time of night.

The intruder kicks their feet against the side of the machine, humming along happily to the beat. You recognize them as the coworker who quit just the other day, but something's off. Their head bends at an odd angle to get a better look at you from their position; eyes milky white rather than the baby blues remember and their skin ghostly pale, lines of foam frothed in the corner of their lips. Their uniform seemed dated with the outfit painted white as apposed to the typical burnt red and the patch on their shirt depicting the pair of horns floating over an ice cream cone. You can see something roll back on their ashen tongue as they speak again.

"Missed you today."

"You quit four days ago."

"This...." They look at their badge. "Teri individual certainly did. I on the other hand have been here for quite a while and probably the first to see what's so great about you. Nice warm hands and willing to take it straight from the nozzle."

You knew that twenty wasn't worth taking that bet. "That was one time."

"Seven, actually. Believe me I kept track.

"Whatever. Can you move so I can fix the machine?"

"That's a nice looking cone right there."

You follow their eyes. There's an ice cream cone on the counter within arm's reach - topped with the perfect swirl that put your attempts to a murky grave. "What about it?"

"Go on- Taste it. You deserve a little something special after all your effort."

"I really have to fix the machine..."

"Do this and it'll run good as new. I promise."

You pick up the cone. Your "coworker" straights up like a post and place their hands between their legs as they lean in, dipping so far it looked like they were ready to pounce. Tossing them a sideeye, you course your tongue upside the peaked curves of the treat. Probably not the best course of action as you catch the moment their soul figuratively leaves their body. Still, their stare held no weight compared to the fluffy mount of heaven melting on your tongue. The best soft serve you've had by far. You nurse the tip, wanting to savor the treat-

"Keeping going."

But you haven't the time for such pleasantries. Sweeping the cream to the back of your mouth with your tongue, the cone's quickly disappears pass your lips. The ice cream drips and dribbles down your chin, creating suction between the pause you take between licks. Your coworker focuses intensely on the sneaks of the pink muscle lapping at the dessert, practically crushing their hands with their thighs. That foam hanging from their maw bubblish vigorously and glows a haunting blue as they hiss through their teeth. The machine begins to shake.

"Stick it out...."

You stick your tongue out, padding a little too hard against the cone. What's left of the scoop breaks off and runs down the back of your hand, caught by your mouth before it could hit the floor. You shutter as some misses and goes down your shirt. Your coworker doesn't have the dignity to try hiding the moan rippling through their worn throat. Their head rolls back as does their eyes, fog trailing into the air as they claw at their neck. The machine's lights flicker rapidly between red and green, melted ice cream overflowing the edge of the table and onto the floor disbursing through the pipes in thick, fluid streams.

"Yes- you absolute tease. I've waited to see this for so long. Always leaving right when things get good. You don't know how happy I get seeing you every during your breaks. You always look so upset, but then- you come to me..."

You force swallow the ice cream in your mouth, fighting the the ache traveling from jaw to your brain. You briefly tongue the crater left in the cone forgetting about your company momentarily. Realization snapping back, you bite around the shell and shovel it in your mouth once it able. Everything was sticky. Your face, hands, upper chest and mostly uniform.

Your coworker hops off the machine, making quick work of shoving your fingers in their mouth. The cavity and their tongue was wet and slick, but in a way it felt like putting your hand in a cooler with some kind of frozen serpant lying in wait. They clean your fingers in earnest, getting through each nook and even beneath your nails. Doing the same with your opposite, they finally suckle on the collar of your shirt as if to clean it just the same. Their teeth ghost a mark over your skin. You shove them off you.

"That's enough."

"For now." Your coworker surprises you with one more lick scoring the sticky mess staining your cheek. The tip of their tongue manages to hit your lips. With that same domestic flare, they grab the tail end of your apron and use it to wipe up the remaining slick, smiling as if they'd be waiting for you to come home from your busy life all day.

"I hope we see each other again soon. I mean we will, but maybe next time I'll put on something more... comfort. Take care, gorgeous."

Your coworker winks - wandering off towards the back with one lingering smile. They blow a kiss as their body dips behind the door.

"Hey, Y/n did you get the machine fixed?"

Your pants legs sag turning in the flood below. "When you think about it do we really need ice cream?"

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 8: JERRY

The last of four posts for today.

This episode has a very dark setting. This is the universe where The Lich wished for the extinction of all life. There is nothing here. This establishing shot features the Squirrel's apple cart, from a few episodes ago, but he is long dead and it is long abandoned.

We are introduced to a new cosmic entity, Orbo, who is Scarab's boss but is not to be mistaken for Prismo's boss, whose identity remains a mystery.

Simon name drops a whole bunch of magical items from the original Adventure Time series; the Armour of Zeldron from Blood Under the Skin, the Wand of Dispersement from Sons of Mars, the Porcelain Lamb from Beyond This Earthly Realm, and the magic beans from The Pods.

This episode suggests that the nature of Simon and Betty's relationship was initially quite unhealthy. He was one of her lecturers, and she had an infatuation with him from first sight.

This illustration features the ancient wizards who sealed Coconteppi beneath Wizard City in the Distant Lands episode of the same name.

Simon's expedition to find the Enchiridion was first mentioned in the newspaper clipping in I Remember You, and was mentioned again in Temple of Mars.

BMO apparently survived The Lich's wish because he isn't technically alive. I wonder where Neptr and the other MOs are. Cannibalised for batteries, perhaps. Also, that BRB note is very sad and is identical to the one Finn wrote in Blenanas.

There are various familiar items in the thawed out remains of the Ice Kingdom; ninja paraphernalia from The Chamber of Frozen Blades, Ice King's diary from The Empress Eyes, and of course the tape collection from Holly Jolly Secrets.

Here's a deep cut: That machine in the background to the right of Simon is the machine that held the lightning power that Finn went to steal in What is Life, so that he could power up Neptr. The Demonic Wishing Eye is also in this shot.

For a single frame, Ice King and Gunter can be seen reduced to skeletons. Presumably this was the exact moment that the Lich's wish took effect. Everyone died instantly, in less than a frame.

When I watched this episode for the first time I was confused about where Fionna got the working crown. But you can just about see it inside the drum in this shot, where Ice King mentioned he had put it in his tape.

This is the exact moment the photograph was taken for the newspaper clipping seen in I Remember You.

We first heard the story about how Simon met Betty after they tried to check out the same library book in Broke His Crown. It's cool to see it playing out for real.

Simon throws a pebble at the window and accidentally hits Babette in the face, exactly like Finn and Jake did to Kim Kil Whan in the episode Ocarina.

This is the second time Simon caused Betty to miss this research trip to Australia. She says in Temple of Mars that she never got the opportunity to go, and resolves that her life might not have been so messed up if she'd followed her own dreams instead of following Simon's.

The song in this scene, the motif of which has been heard throughout the series, is by Half Shy, who also wrote "Monster" for Obsidian.

BMO is buried with a paper flower because there are no real ones left alive. His death seemed pointlessly cruel.

THE LICH! He is in his half-disguised Billy form, confirming that this is his wish-altered reality. Like in his other appearances, the first line he speaks is a single word command. This time, the command is "Cease." But with nothing left to do he has become depressed, and he doesn't bother killing our protagonists.

And finally, we are left on this cliffhanger. Fionna and Cake have returned to their world. Scarab has convinced the boss that Simon must be destroyed. And GOLBetty is here to claim them both while the Lich watches on.

This episode's dream features a pair of Lich skulls either side an effigy of GOLB.

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — three

part one | part two | part three

summary — the lightning bolts have made it to the semi-finals, and parties are the best way to celebrate. they’re also the best place to run into familiar faces.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimers — sadly, i don’t own peter parker and his yummy face

warnings — this isn’t your first rodeo: this shit is unedited, mentions of drinking/being drunk, possible ooc, reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (finally gets explained in this part!)

Death was approaching, she could feel it. The sickening, deadly vibrations of the music thundered in her ears like a funeral march. Maybe if she’d grown a spine, she would have avoided this all.

“We’re not even inside yet.”

MJ’s voice broke her from the trance she was stuck in. The Lightning Bolts had made it into the semi-finals, meaning they were one of the last four teams standing. Delta Alpha Kappa, home of half the hockey team, decided to throw their (nearly) weekly rager in honor of that. So, of course, Harry invited MJ, and MJ forced her very unwilling roommate to come.

“Being near the door is scary enough.” Her voice squeaked. 

“I didn’t realize you hated parties this much,” MJ giggled, stuffing her hands into her jacket.

“There’s a difference between parties and frat parties,” she responded with a shudder, “You can probably get thirty-five different diseases from just walking inside.”

“I’ll nurse you back to health.” 

Before a retort could be made, they were already hopping up the steps to the front door. There were some people outside the house, littering the grass and porch. At the door was a guy with a grey snapback. He smiled at them as he opened the door, throwing out a ‘hey, ladies’ as he let them in. He was harmless and hadn’t done anything wrong, but she already felt herself getting faintly annoyed at his grin.

The inside of the house was to be expected. Dull neon lights streaking the walls from the Five Below LED machines, unintelligently music rippling through the air and vibrating the floors, the hazy smell of weed that hung heavier the further you moved into the house. There was an open room people were dancing in on the left, a kitchen on the right, and stairs ahead of them. 

“We don’t have to stay here all night, right?” She pleaded with MJ, her voice somewhat lost in the loud music.

“Of course not,” MJ shook her head, “An hour—two tops.”

“And you’re not leaving me,” she said, punctuating her words by grabbing ahold of MJ’s arm. A chuckle bubbled in the redhead’s throat as she returned the grip, though, with less fervor.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she shook her head.

Apparently, she would dream of it, because within a half an hour, MJ was swept away by Harry. It wasn’t MJ’s intention to leave, nor was it Harry’s to strand Kitty—he’d hoisted her over his shoulder and was gone within seconds. MJ had sent her an apology text minutes later, saying they were playing beer pong out on the patio. Part of her wanted to join them so that she wasn’t so alone in an unfamiliar place, but then a couch had just opened up in a deserted corner of the living room. She replied with ‘all good :).’ Things were very much not all good.

The settings of her phone had become extremely interesting. She’d increased and decreased the size of the text on her screen multiple times. Changed her wallpaper. Played with the magnifier. Ran out of lives on Project Makeover. Changed her wallpaper again. The obnoxious music faded to the background of her mind as she tucked herself away. She should’ve just gone to the patio with MJ. A sigh escaped her as she caved, opening her texts.

“Are you stalking me?”

Her eyes shot up from her phone immediately. Of course he was here. Hazel eyes, choppy brown hair, a nearly healed lip that was rosier than normal. His words echoed her own from the last time they’d spoken. She hadn’t had any need to speak to him, really: they’d given an overzealous freshman a shot at handling the sports section, so she’d been taken off the duty for at least another week. 

“You came up to me,” she replied, “And you could still be stalking me for all I know.” Peter grinned, the same grin he’d given her when they met, and when he was being dragged to the penalty box, and when he’d swiped his card for her at the dining hall.

“Not stalking.” He raised his hands in defense, showing off the red solo cup in his grip. He was still smiling that stupid, toothy smile. 

“Then what are you doing here?” She raised her brow.

“Well, uh,” he chuckled, “Not to sound like a dick, but this party is sort of for me—for the team, really. We made semis.”

Hot embarrassment flooded her at the realization. She knew that already. Would it be worse to say that and admit she had actually been watching the game on her laptop late last week, or just pretend that she was a lot more dense than she already was?

“Oh,” she hummed, not quite doing either, “I see.”

“So, can I ask what you’re doing here?” Peter asked. He moved slightly, like he wanted to take a seat next to her on the couch but decided against it.

“Isn’t it obvious? I live here,” she replied, the sarcasm thick on her tongue. He seemed to like it because he let out another one of those throaty chuckles.

“Ah, yeah, should’ve figured,” he nodded. With his free hand, he scratched the scruff of hair above his left ear. Then, he spoke up again, “Mind if I sit?”

“A little,” she cringed internally at her own words. Though contradictory, she scooched a bit, asserting that maybe it would be okay if he sat. He took the invitation.

“Where’s MJ?” He cocked his head.

“Kidnapped by your lovely teammate.” “She just left you alone?”

“It’s not her fault—she apologized and told me where he was holding her captive, but…well, the couch opened up,” she shrugged. Another deep laugh.

“That’s pretty sound logic,” he nodded. The last time they’d been this close, she was interviewing him. Well, she was trying to interview him while he flirted incessantly. Peter held his cup between his knees, taking slow sips every once and a while. 

“Do you live here?” She turned to fully face him, “Are you one of those frat guys?”

“I thought about it, but I just didn’t have enough time,” he shook his head, “I’m actually in an on-campus apartment. I have my own bathroom, so, hey, I’m winning, I guess.” For perhaps the first time, a light laugh was drawn from her lips. It wasn’t necessarily real, more like a confirmation that she heard him, but it was enough to make Peter’s lips twitch into another grin.

“What about you, Kitty?”

And there it was. He had to ruin it. 

“What’s your obsession with trying to call me that?” She grumbled.

“You said your friends call you that,” he replied, acting so nonchalant that it took all her strength not to roll her eyes.

“We’re not friends,” she corrected him quickly. His face fell for only a minute before he was already picking his lips up into another grin.

“Can’t we be?” He asked. His words were so sincere, like he was actually searching for friendship behind her eyes. Maybe he was being sincere. She shifted in her spot.

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I probably came off sort of strong before, inviting you to the game and everything, but you came, so I sort of thought…” he shrugged again, “We’re…friends? Of some sort?”

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. She’d shown up. But it was because of MJ, because MJ wanted to go. Yeah, that was why.

“MJ wanted to see Harry,” she disputed.

“But you still came,” he pressed. She still came. A sigh left her.

“Okay, we’re, like, sort of friends,” she finally admitted, “But that doesn’t mean you just get to call me that name.”

“Well then what am I supposed to call you?” He questioned, and her eyebrows furrowed in response. A smile split on his lips, “You never actually introduced yourself to me, y’know.”

Another burst of molten embarrassment. She searched her mind, trying to remember if she’d ever told him her name, but she was drawing blanks. She’d been so pissed off during the interview that she never introduced herself. Her scalp burned.

“Y/n,” she swallowed her pride for a moment, “That’s what you can call me.”

“I sort of like Kitty better.” Now he was just pushing the limits.

“Well, it’s not for you to use,” her voice was sharp.

“Harry uses it.” “Harry is a dick that doesn’t listen to me when I tell him to stop calling me it.”

“MJ uses—”

“MJ uses it because she’s allowed to use it,” she interrupted, “Hearing other people use it is like hearing a stranger refer to you by your family nickname. It’s freaky.”

“Is there a reason for it? The nickname, I mean?” Peter, for as genuine as he was trying to be, couldn’t hide his grin. 

“A stupid one.” Why would she admit that?

“Can I hear it?” He pressed.

“You are just full of questions,” she huffed. Silence settled between them. Beats of unspoken words fell like snowflakes as the dull thump of the party shifted to the forefront. 

“It’s a stupid reason,” she repeated, breaking the seal. Peter looked at her again.

“Is it?” His voice was a little softer than before. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. Why was she giving in so easily?

“It’s because I always land on my feet somehow,” she began to explain, “Not literally. Like, back in high school, I’d have a test I forgot to study for, and I’d ace it somehow. Or when I used to do the professor spotlight for the paper, I would put it off until the last minute and bullshit a whole piece just to be told it’s one of the best things I’ve done. Stuff like that. MJ said I’m like a cat, but cuter, so she started calling me that freshman year.”

Like clockwork, Peter let out a huff of laughter. He looked at her, eyes sparkling with the new information and he curled his lips. She must’ve been getting some second-hand smoke, because her head seemed a little fuzzier than before.

“I thought it was going to be something traumatic,” he chuckled, “Like, you got stuck in a tree or something.”

“It’s just personal,” she rolled her eyes.

“So,” his laughter subsided, “I don’t have Kitty privileges?” “No,” she shook her head.

“Do you mean ‘no’ or ‘not yet’?” His smile was unbearable.

“I mean ‘no’.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you sure sure?” 

She was going to have to physically restrain herself. Instead of arguing, she shuffled in her seat, “I think I’m gonna go see if MJ is still—”

“Hey,” he said softly. His hand landed on her arm in a featherlight touch that had her nerve ending lighting up. Her eyes met his. The softness that consumed the hazel caused her to still. 

“Before you go,” his tone was more subdued now, “Can I possibly have your number?”

The question caught her off guard. If she hadn’t already stopped moving, she would’ve come to a screeching halt. Perhaps what confused her the most was that her instinctual response was to say yes, to reach for her phone and let him make a new contact. 

“I promise I won’t set your name as ‘Kitty’,” he added, “Scout’s honor.” “Were you a boy scout?” She cocked her head.

“Nope,” he replied with that same giddy grin that melted her resolve. Another sigh escaped her as she grabbed her phone. He waited patiently as she created a new contact and handed over the phone. His fingers darted across the screen before taking a picture of himself. Well, more like a picture of his eyes and nose way too close to the camera. He gave the phone back, seemingly proud of himself. The picture was set, and the name he’d chosen for himself was ‘peter :)’. He also sent himself a text so he would have her number.

“I’ll let you go now,” he grinned, “Have fun watching drunks play pong.” She nodded and nearly stood, but was planted back to her seat in a moment.

“How did you know where I was going?” Her eyebrows creased. Peter’s smile fell slightly as his eyes widened.

“Oh,” he coughed, “Well, I bumped into MJ earlier, so, y’know.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “And I bet you didn’t ask her where I was, either.” He chuckled nervously and scratched the spot above his ear again.

“Nope,” he lied. She shook her head at his tone.

“Right,” she stood, “See you around, stalker.”

“Bye, Ki—Y/n,” he cut himself off, grinning proudly when he noticed his mistake. His smile had to be contagious, infectious, because her own lips began to curl in response.

It was surprisingly easy to find MJ. She didn’t know where the patio was, but luck was on her side tonight: after shoving through a dozen drunks, she found sliding glass doors. The fresh air felt like a cold shower as she stepped out. It was much less loud out here. Only the filtered thump of the music and the buzz of voices could be heard. That was until a light splash and a cacophony of deep yells filled her ears. When she cautiously approached the hoard of people surrounding the beer pong table, a pair of hands wrapped around her in death grip.

“I am so, so sorry!” MJ’s voice eased her nerves immediately, “I’m horrible! I’m the worst! I promised to stick by you, and I bailed! I—”

“Honey, it’s okay,” she let out a small laugh at her behavior. She should be angrier than she was, but she just couldn’t pull herself to get mad.

“I promise I will never ever force you to a party again, and I’ll never leave you,” MJ continued, “I’ll wait outside the shower for you!”

“That’s tempting, but you don’t have to.” Her voice seemed to somewhat quell MJ’s nerves, though the redhead was still on high alert. 

“Are you just acting okay but really you’re harboring a deep resentment for me that will slowly boil into hatred?” MJ scrunched her nose. She was definitely a few drinks in.

“I promise,” she said, and she actually meant it, “I do not hate you.” MJ sighed in relief as she finally let go of the girl in front of her. True to her word, she stuck by her the rest of the night. When they finally made their way back to the dorm—both tipsy—she finally checked her phone. There was a message from Peter; a screenshot of her contact info with the name set as ‘y/n :)’ and a text:

‘scout’s honor’

a/n — OKAY OKAY i know nothing humongous happened in this chap, but we’re getting there 🤭 you guys just wait until peter *redacted* and *redacted* so reader has to *redacted.* also, at the time of posting this, i hit 400!! love you guys so much, you're all my sweet little baby muffins

taglist

@reidslovely @iamliterallyspidergwen @tarzinnia (tarzinnia, hon, i cannot for the life of me remember if you asked to be on the taglist so i added you just in case—let me know if you want off!)

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

How the Wayne family handles injuries sometimes (pt 2 updated)

Duke Thomas

Duke and Konnor are hanging out since Duke wants to have superhero friends. He takes a long sip of water from his bottle then winces after swallowing.

Duke: I'm pretty sure I cracked one of my ribs. I can't confirm, though. Can you check, Konner?

Konnor(using his x-ray vision): It's not one; I see like four of your ribs are cracked. Wow.

Duke: See, I knew I was having trouble... breathing. I thought it was asthma.

Konnor: I don't even know how to respond to that.

Duke (shrugs, not fazed by his injured ribs): Dude, all that I can do is get an ice pack and ice my chest until I go on patrol tonight. Probably will avoid using my grappling gun.

Konnor (alarmed): You're going out as Signal with four cracked ribs?

Duke (chuckles, wincing quickly from the sore ribs): You're acting like I'm getting surgery.

Duke walks off to get an ice pack, leaving a confused Kon to come to one conclusion.

Konnor: I thought Tim was the odd one. Nope, they're all insane.

...

Stephanie Brown

Stephanie enters Kara's house limping her left leg.

Stephanie: Hey, Kara.

Kara (Supergirl): Stephanie, um, hey, your leg is seriously not okay.

Stephanie: No, it's fine. I sprained it a few nights ago, but it's just healing. Walking it off is fixing it.

Kara: Steph, I have x-ray vision, and that crack between what was your freaking not broken leg is gnarly.

Stephanie: Hm, is it? That would explain why I've been having this shooting pain since I fell off that building.

Kara (blinks, then rings her ear with her finger): You said that like it was normal. You fell off a building and you're walking?!

Stephanie: Well, I slipped, but I was able to grip this open window. Then I slipped again and hit an awning that had cloth. Then the cloth broke, and I hit the ground.

Stephanie rubs her leg

Stephanie: Typical Tuesday. You know what... maybe the way I fell broke it.

Kara stares at her, shocked.

Stephanie: You act like this is the first time my leg has broken.

Kara: How are you walking with only a limp?

Kara (aggravated): I'm taking you to the hospital.

Stephanie: Probably for the best.

...

Cass Cain

Cass (Orphan suit on) is on a mission with Harley Quinn.

Harley: Orphan, don't freak out, but you're bleeding on your side.

Orphan: I am?

Orphan feels warm blood on the left side of her hip. She stomps her foot annoyed, but not in pain.

Orphan: Oh dang it, his knife swipe did hit me? My suit! I already put the alterations in this suit. Is the tear noticeable?

Harley stares at the woman who is checking for where the stab wound might be.

Harley: Okay, I'm not the most stable person, I'll admit, but you not screaming in pain from a stab wound in your hip is concerning.

Orphan: I have a large first aid kit in my room, but my sewing machine is broken. I need to know if the tear is fixable with manual sewing.

Harley: You bat people are a strange bunch; that's why I like ya.

Orphan smiles while continuing to check for any major issues in her suit.

...

Barbara (turning her left wrist): I swear I've been bending my wrist for like a day, and it's still sore. I think I sprained it.

Kori (Starfire): Barbara, there is a purple bump on your wrist; I'm positive it is broken, not sprained.

Barbara (pauses, looking at the noticeable bump, laughs): Oh my God, that's what this is? Silly me. Some douche tried to rob me, put a gun to my chest, and I took him down. Never underestimate a paraplegic.

Kori: Okay, that's great, but how did you not notice or feel pain? I saw you writing and typing earlier... and picking up your drink with that hand!

Barbara: Girl, I'm a part of the Bat Family. Our pain tolerance is high... feels good sometimes.

Kori: That is a motto I've heard from Dick before.

Barbara (grossed out): Could you stop saying stuff like that?!

…

Kate sits on Selina's couch, surrounded by her pet cats. Selina returns with drinks but nearly drops the glasses when she sees Kate's feet.

Selina: Oh my God! Your feef!

Kate: Sorry, my shoes were way too tight.

Selina: Kate, honey, your left pinky toe is swollen, and the right foot is… it should not be that color.

Kate: Huh… so when I jumped out of the tree and landed in the thorn bush, my feet did get hurt. Didn't help that I lost my shoes.

Selina: How did you lose your— you have to get your horrifying feet off my glass coffee table. I can't keep looking at them, and my table isn't a footrest!

Kate: Geez, chill. You and Bruce fixate on those coffee tables too much.

Selina: Yes, coffee tables! I want to keep them clean. Do you need to go to the hospital? We can watch the movie later.

Kate: Why, because my feet are sore? Sel, this isn't the first time I've been through this. I only need some ice and Tylenol.

Selina: I have a foot tub and Advil.

Kate: That works because I'm not missing movie night with my future cousin-in-law.

Selina: Cousin-in-law?

Kate: It's a thing. Oh, and if you have Epsom salt, put a few spoonfuls in. It helps with the swelling.

Selina nods, going to her bathroom.

Selina: Getting prescribed pain meds and a cast helps with the swelling, but with this family, they don't know those words.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Rough and Rowdy Ways

Day #22 - AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Van Tour, Known Destroyers of Hotels, Motel Desk Clerk Steve Harrington, Meet Cute

One more dingy room, one more motel that's just a little more rundown than the last. It's been a long few years on the road, each one getting harder and harder. They have upswings, and downswings, and right now, they're definitely down. Playing smaller venues in the middle of fucking nowhere, more often than not. 

They aren't famous, more infamous than anything, because there's been a few incidents over the years that have put them in the papers for less than flattering reasons.

Damages, lawsuits. 

Rough and rowdy.

Assholes.

That's the name they've made for themselves. Gareth is still on probation from the last hotel trashing, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back, making all the major chains put the kibosh on them staying anywhere decent for the near future.

Most of them have their pictures hanging up, like they're outlaws. 

Eddie sees an old, falling apart neon sign with an arrow promising a motel. He's not sure it'll still be there. It's a toss-up, for sure, as shitty as that sign looks. 

But when they see the gravel turn-off, there is a solitary car sitting in the parking lot. Something that looks too nice, too expensive, for a place like this. 

But, they'll have to try their luck and see if they can slide under the radar, pay cash, give fake names, and go unnoticed. Move on down the road tomorrow. 

There's a guy sitting behind the desk, and he looks out of place in this shitty, unkempt place. He's very kempt. The most kempt person Eddie's seen in days.

Gareth immediately rings the bell, and Eddie wants to throttle him. That's never a good way to make a first impression. And they are the ones needing something here. 

"One room, please," Gareth says. 

The guy looks them up and down, and then shrugs. Pulling two sets of keys off a peg behind the desk. 

He has pretty eyes. Very pretty eyes, pretty everything, really.

"Twenty dollars. Room four," he offers, like he doesn't give a shit if they burn the place down. Maybe he doesn't care. "Name?"

"Edward Jones," Gareth says, mashing their names together.

"Sure you are," the guy says, and they both look at each other, "just sign here."

"What's that mean?" Gareth asks.

"Edward D. Jones? The financial advisors?"

It's not ringing a bell. They carry their money in a duffle bag. They definitely don't have any advisors.

"Coincidence," Gareth says, and Eddie thinks it might actually be, because he's not sure Gareth would know that either. 

"Checkout is at noon," he says, and then picks back up the book he was reading.

Transaction over.

Eddie paces the room, and the rest of them are getting annoyed. Goodie has already kicked him twice as he's walked by, and Gareth is sassing him.

Just. That guy. Steve, his name tag said, but that might have been as fake as Edward Jones.

"I'm gonna go get ice," Eddie declares, and the rest of them all seem to sigh in relief that he and his nervous energy are leaving the room.

Eddie carries the cheap plastic ice bucket up to the counter, "Steve?"

Steve looks up, so maybe that is his real name.

"Where's the ice machine?"

"It's broken," Steve answers.

"Oh. Damn," Eddie says, leaning up on the counter, trying to encroach on his personal space, just a little. Steve doesn't back up, not an inch, which is impressive. This usually works to make people uncomfortable. "I really need some ice. It's so hot."

Steve is looking at him, straight in the eyes, "Is that so?"

Eddie smiles, and isn't sure what he expects might happen, but he'll shoot his shot. There's no harm in it, he'll never see this guy again, come tomorrow.

"I have an ice machine in the back, if you want me to get you some. It's not really for the guests."

"Well, I appreciate that. I won't tell any of the other guests," Eddie says, a little sarcastic, because he's pretty sure nobody else is here.

Steve rolls his eyes, and grabs the brown bucket, pulling it across the counter and disappears through the open door behind him. 

Eddie follows.

He's pretty sure he's not supposed to, but Steve didn't tell him to wait at the counter.

Steve lifts the lid and grabs the metal scoop, filling the bucket. When he turns, he catches sight of Eddie and the bucket goes flying, ice spilling all over the floor.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" Eddie says, holding his hands up, just realizing that he may look threatening. He forgets that sometimes. "I'm not, I won't. Fuck. I'm sorry."

And then Steve laughs, a nervous giggle that makes Eddie smile, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't thinking. I'm a musician. Eddie."

"Jones?" 

Eddie laughs, "Munson. That's my best friend, Gareth Jones. A coincidence, I think."

And Steve smiles, just a little, "Okay, just. This place brings in the freaks and weirdos," Steve says.

And Eddie points at himself, eyebrows raised.

"Little bit," Steve teases, and Eddie grins.

"Let me help you pick up the ice," Eddie offers, getting down on his hands and knees, swiping it all towards himself. Then Steve is standing over him with a broom.

"This might be more efficient," Steve says, sarcastically and Eddie laughs as Steve sweeps up the mess.

Eddie's palms are black from the floor. And somehow it's not the dirtiest place they've ever stayed.

"Is there a sink?" Eddie asks, showing Steve his palms, and Steve nods towards the little bathroom off the breakroom.

There are personal items all over the sink, and a small, corner shower. Does Steve live here? Eddie suspects someone does, if it isn't him.

Steve is leaning in the open doorway, watching him, but in a curious way, not in a suspicious way, Eddie thinks. Which is good. Great.

"Do you live here?" Eddie asks.

"Unfortunately," Steve says, smirking.

"Wanna run away and be a roadie?"

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[luvtak]

stray kids as cliche romance tropes

❀ pairing skz x gn!reader

❀ genre/tw fluff fluff fluff!! a smidgen of angst, slightly (like the slightest) suggestive, some are est. relationship, some getting together <33

❀ w/c 2248, about 200-300 for each member (do not ask me what happened with linos hehe

❀ a/n here it is!! this took me like a month to write lol so i hope its good!! personal faves are minho and innies, let me know which one is yours <333

Chan: Childhood Sweethearts

You’ve lived your life holding Chan’s hand.

You met in elementary school, immediately infatuated with the boy and his shy smile. He called you pretty on the first day of school and spent the rest of the year taking care of you: sharpening your pencils and sharing his lunch. Adults would coo and call it puppy love, laughing at the lovesick smiles adorned on your faces, but there was nothing childish about how you looked at each other.

Middle school is spent going to the movies and sharing ice cream, swimming, and sharing sweet laughs. First kisses in the fall and gumball machine promise rings given in the spring—it’s innocent in the sweetest way, forever is simple when you’re thirteen.

Teenage years give way to deeper feelings and new experiences; There was no question you were together—even if you never had the conversation, his hands locked in yours tells everyone what they need to know. High School is defined by stolen kisses on doorsteps and promposals, nights spent giggling into each other’s mouths to keep quiet. You think you know his body and soul as well as your own, like leaves plucked from the same tree.

Childhood eases into adulthood, and suddenly you’ve loved each other longer than you’ve been alive. There’s no question of a future together, no pressure to ask what you are or what you will be. Sometimes you wonder if you missed out on something, if it would’ve been better to have loved more, but when you see him there is no question. It’s easy together, a quiet breeze encasing you in his affections, and you’ll continue like you always have, hand in hand.

Minho: Second Chance Romance

When you saw him again, you didn’t realize it would hurt so bad. He’s gorgeous, somehow even prettier than he was a year ago. You think the grocery store is an interesting place to have this interaction—an unusual intruder to your midnight snack run, haloed by ice cream.

It’s strange, looking at him like you’ve never met, as if he hasn’t seen the inner workings of your mind or mapped your skin with his hands.

You can’t deny you’ve missed him, still grieving the relationship you thought you’d be in forever. You broke up because you didn’t feel appreciated, you were always unsure about how he felt, and he was always too busy and too cocksure to change that. So, you were certain he’d ignore you and you’d both go on with your lives, but when he sees you, he smiles.

 It’s such a contradictory thing, to feel at ease at his figure, but anxious to hear his voice. You know how he’ll sound, so soft and charming, the perfect mix of arrogance and kindness.

When he finally stands in front you, there is so much the same as the last time you saw him, yet distinct differences in how he looks at you. A year ago, his eyes were filled with tears and now they’re so bright it’s blinding. He tells you it’s good to see you, that it’s been too long; he doesn’t want to bother you, but he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see you and he needs you to know that he’s missed you.

When he asks to walk you home, you surprise both of you by saying yes. Sharing stories of the year spent apart and lamenting over lost days together. He wonders if you’ll want to do this again, if you’re up to trying another time equipped with more love and more patience. And how can you say no, when he came back to you like an angel in the frozen food aisle.

Changbin: Damsel in Distress

When you fell, you wanted to die. There you were in the middle of the gym running on the treadmill when you lost your footing and fell directly on your face. It was not your proudest moment, and you were dead set on never setting foot in this gym ever again, maybe not even leaving your house you were that embarrassed. Until you hear someone asking if you were okay, and suddenly he’s fussing around you and lifting you up.

Changbin has seen you here before, watching you work on the equipment, and fantasizing about coming up and introducing himself, but he’s never gained enough courage. It was in the middle of one of these daydreams when you tripped, and immediately he was filled with worry. Rushing over, he checked your hands and pulled up your leggings to see if your knees were scraped and introduced himself while putting band aids on your cuts.

He's cute and nervous, and you can’t help but be swayed by how kind he is. He sits with you while you recuperate and asks to take you to lunch to make up for the embarrassment. The whole time he introduces himself as someone wonderful, you find that he’s silly and so sweet. When he admits to have been crushing on you, you laugh and wonder why he never came up to you before. And as the day comes to an end, you come to be a little grateful for the fall.

Hyunjin: Fake Relationship/Wedding Date

Hyunjin has been your friend for a long time, and your family has always wanted you to be together—it’s been years of awkward questions and dinner invites. When your sister got engaged, she told you to bring a date, and single as can be, the only person to ask was Hyunjin.

At first, he was hesitant. He knew and loved your family, and the idea of lying to them and pretending to be your boyfriend when he is certainly not, is hard to stomach. When he finally agrees he still wonders if it’s a good idea, but seeing the bright smile on your face makes up for it.

The family is ecstatic when they see who your date is, and as the night goes on you start to see why they’re so happy—on a superficial level, you’ve always known how beautiful and wonderful he is, but seeing him  here all dressed up and smiling down at you, you start to see what your family means when they say you’re perfect together. You’re dancing and talking, and he becomes so much more than just your friend.

He’s always loved you, maybe not romantically, but he has. And something turns when he’s dancing with you, maybe it’s the lights or the music, but he can feel something shift. When he takes you home that night, he wonders if it’ll still feel this way in the morning.

Jisung: Best friends to Lovers  

You know everything about each other, it’s as if you’re one person—finishing each other’s sentences and sharing inside jokes. You’ve spent your lives together, yet it has been purely platonic. You’ve both had relationships and never saw each other as more than you are, until one night he looks a little too pretty under the TV light and suddenly you’re overthinking every little interaction you’ve had.

If it’s normal to be so close to someone who’s just your friend—If other people put their best friend before anything else, including significant others. Jisung loves you, that much is obvious, but you’re not sure if he sees you the way you see him; he takes up every inch of your heart, everything you do is for him.

In Han’s mind, you know how he feels—it’s so clear to him how you feel for each other, while unspoken he thinks his  actions speak louder than words. He’s just been waiting for you to be ready, maybe that’s his mistake; you’ve both been waiting to make the first move.

Your friends are frustrated, waiting for you to finally see what they do. Lecturing the both of you on admitting your feelings, but neither you nor Jisung want to mess with the relationship you already have.

When you finally come to terms with how you feel, you confess to your feelings like a crime, he tells you like whispering a secret you already know. Shakey and tired of feeling so overwhelmed with how big your feelings are for him, you admit to realizing how much you truly love him. All he can do is laugh, wondering why you were both so anxious to tell each other this one secret, when you’ve shared all the others.

Felix: Vacation Romance

When your friends decided to go on vacation, you could never have dreamed of meeting someone as wonderful as Felix. You met him three days into your three-week trip, and if you thought he was lovely from afar, he’s even sweeter up close. The relationship was eager, escalating quickly over the course of your stay. Within days you felt like you’d known him forever, sure that you were somehow meant to meet.

Days are spent in the sun, soaking up love and light—watching new freckles arrive on his cheekbones as the weeks fade. His skin is always touching yours, hands in your hair and kisses pressed into your neck. He thinks he’s a little bit in love with you, even so, the threat of the end hangs over your head; you never thought this would last, in fact you knew it would be too hard to continue, but you throw yourself headfirst into it anyway.

Your first kiss is cautious and your last is hasty, a million little touches in twenty-one days leading up to a goodbye. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, or if it only worked because it was temporary. Your friends laugh at you, thinking you’re taking this little fling too seriously, but they’ve don’t know what it feels like to have his eyes on you.

The night before you leave, he tells you he’ll miss you, and you think that’s it—that the vacation will just become a romantic memory to look back on, but he asks if he can call you, and you think that maybe this could lead to so much more.

Seungmin: Opposites Attract

There was no question, you two were very different people—while you were bubbly and bright, Seungmin was often blunt and withdrawn. Sure, he can be silly, and you don’t think you’ve met anyone funnier than he is, but often he can be cold. When you first got together all your friends wondered how it would work, if someone as sunshiny as you could really feel fulfilled by someone like him.

What they don’t see is how effortlessly sweet he is to you, taking care of your heart like it’s his own. It was difficult in the beginning, to accept both sides of him—the outside version who would barely hold your hand and the inside one, thoughtlessly grazing your skin. He has so much admiration and respect for your open nature; sometimes he wants to be more like you, but he doesn’t think you’d love him so much if it weren’t for your differences.

 You balance each other in the best ways, speaking up for him when his social battery gives way; laughing away his jokes when they could come off too hard. On the other side, Seungmin allows you a respite from the constant smiles—it can get exhausting keeping a positive attitude, but he loves you in your quiet moments as well as your loud ones. 

He’s loved you for all your differences, appreciated you more for them—even if no one understood it didn’t matter because when it’s just you two alone together, there’s nothing different about you.

Jeongin: Boy Next Door

You can count your life in moments spent walking home with Jeongin—he smiles down at you, and asks about your day, and shares his snacks. Summers spent in each other’s backyards, learning to swim and ride bikes; telling scary stories and recitations of silly dreams. As you get older, he only becomes kinder and more handsome, offering to drive you places and invites you out with his friends. It’s only natural to have a crush on him, to feel stubborn butterflies when his dimples are directed at you, but as childhood drifts away and the infatuation becomes more intense, you’re certain you’re in love with him.

When you left for college, you didn’t think your heart would tear into pieces, but all year you missed him. You missed the sidewalk conversations and the sweet grin before he’d offer something to share—you missed sitting in his car, sat so close to him you can smell his cologne mixed with the leather seats, but mostly you just missed his body next to yours.

No boy at school amounted to him, none of them made you feel as giddy and charmed, none of them were able to mask the need you felt for him. You wondered if he thought that way about you, so sure that he was sitting miles and miles away from you, yearning for your company.

When you arrived home for the summer, it was almost like he was waiting for you. Perched on his porch swing and looking out on an empty suburban street. His hair had grown longer, and he seemed freer somehow, but he was still Jeongin—still the boy who’d walk with you and trigger your hundred-watt smile. And when you finally took your first steps outside and waved him over, he was still just the boy next door, smiling down at you.

© luvtak

[alwaysshallow]

— gorgeous, chapter 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Third visit, and complications. Not only with your car. (3,4k)

READ ON AO3

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When it was your third time to see him, two weeks later again in your clinic, it wasn't the best day for you, to be honest.

Everything seemed to be against you. Not only your dearest coffee machine broke, but you didn't bring your umbrella on the walk back to the clinic since your car didn't work. And, of course, it rained cats and dogs, so you were pretty much pissed.

Another two weeks you spent on testing your luck with your car because once you could perfectly ride with it, and once it wouldn't just work because engine wouldn't even start. So, you continued with your little tradition of walking back home with hope that no one would murder you in the bushes. Or kidnap you.

You thought Simon would have a great laugh of this if it would happen, considering that he told you that's better to not test your luck and just go with it to mechanic. Celia's contact in your phone looked almost embarrassing every time you thought about it, so, you just weren't looking. You fought over a stupid thing months ago, and now you were too prideful to just admit she was right.

Shit happened, but you had your pride, and that occurred in being a fucking dumbass with car that wasn't exactly in the right condition, so you had to walk sometimes.

You had to eventually speak to Celia, you knew that, but you were extending that time for the longest.

Day in work was the usual; probably the calmest possible, good for you, considering that you've already had enough when you walked to the clinic. People were nice, talkative a bit, but you didn't mind that at all – if so, you liked people's stories. Older lady, named Madelyn, told you about struggles with her grandson that apparently was a big animal lover, but "violent" one. Four year old wasn't aware he was supposed to be delicate with his grandma's dog, so before she knew, he sat on him.

If her dog was a big one, like German Shepherd, it wouldn't be a problem. But, it was just a Jack Russell terrier, which caused you to chuckle a bit, when she told you that because they had luck nothing serious happened. To help old lady a bit, you gave her a special book for kids, how to communicate with animals.

She was in heaven when you handed her that, so it was a win.

Your work day quickly came to almost an end – almost, because you had one patient that you've waited for, and that was Simon's cat. For some reason, he always wanted to be the last in the line with Sparkles, so you respected that. It was supposed to be another routine visit after another two weeks.

And, for some reason, the thought of meeting him was tingly. It was a bit cheesy and sounded like a phrase picked up from fanfiction, but he was different. Different than people you usually met, different in the way that was just interesting for you to explore. Hell, you wanted to make him talk some more, like this time when you were walking in the same direction until he took another road. His voice was addictive, low, and the British accent was just fitting him so much that you could cry over it easily, you wanted more.

Simon seemed to loosen up the second visit, so you had hopes about the third one, after all. It was supposed to be the last one, another one in a month, so you wanted to melt that ice a little bit more before that break.

Fuck, you seemed like a teenager all over again when you thought about it.

"Someone's waiting for you." Bernie said, snapping you back to reality from your thoughts. She looked… mixed, out of sudden. "You want to pick that up, though."

"What? Can't they talk with me here?" you raised an eyebrow. If that certain someone was a client, you could take them here since you've been already waiting for Simon and had a small gap. It wouldn't hurt you.

"I figured out it would be better if you'd meet him outside." your assistant said, which came out a bit in a mumble; with a frown, you walked out of the room.

Bernie was never so mysterious about your visitors – yet, gears processing in your head told you it was someone you would rather avoid. Like, your day was already pretty fucked up, so you assumed the worst.

And, of course, you assumed right.

"Oh, fucking great" you scoffed under your breath, as you crossed your gaze with a stranger that was under your clinic's door.

Or, at least, you wanted for him to be a stranger, because he was your ex. Lousy one, where you wanted nothing from him, but to punch him in the face. You were together for three years straight, broke up about five months ago, just because he found someone else to bug.

Honestly, you were a little bit relieved when he broke up with you – still sad, but also relieved, considering that son of a bitch was… suffocating. Trying to cut your contacts with all of your friends, including Rosalie, including everyone that could be a "potential threat". Toxic partner as it finest, but you felt he would fuck up your life even more if you would try and break up with him. So, you stayed, praying for a miracle, which was cheating, in his case. It felt like a huge favor when he told you that, well, he doesn't love you anymore and he thinks a breakup is the best option.

He was silent after that – until now, of course, and you could only imagine what he wanted from you.

"Hey, pretty thing." he smiled widely, looking at you. "Looking marvelous, as always. Still in shape after the breakup, I see?"

"You thought I'm gonna cry after you?" you raised an eyebrow. "Cut the crap and compliments, Vince. What do you want?"

Your ex chuckled.

"Well, ain't that the attiude I love, bird. Haven't you missed me? Because I did, and I thought we could do a little date."

Oh, he wasn't fucking serious, was he?

Not knowing how to react, you laughed, trying to see what his reaction would be – and in simple words, he switched attiudes fast. From charming and "appealing", Vince's face became a bit stern, dark, like he didn't like the answer you just gave him.

Immediately it gave you flashbacks from your relationship, where your every reaction was calculated since he liked to be rough. Since he loved irritating the shit out of you, just to see you're not gonna do shit about it.

Because he was stronger. Because he could easily overpower you, trap you into thinking that you were the wrong one, not him. Because he always apologized with flowers and crocodile tears in his eyes, when you stood your ground.

He was a motherfucking manipulator.

"You broke up with me just five months ago, and you want to be back together, suddenly?"

"I'm not talking about getting back together. Simple fucking. She's not it, you know?" he raised his eyebrow, mimicking you from earlier. "I do not like that reaction, though. Gotta work on that, baby."

"Mhm, no way. You can go fuck yourself." you shook your head, turning back from him, to go straight to your clinic.

There wasn't a point for you to talk to your ex especially when he was nothing but a douche, you thought it would be the best to leave him behind and ignore. He, in the other hand, didn't – and you were painfully reminded that when he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from going or pushing him. It was a hard grip.

"Be a little nicer, will you? I'm trying to be a gentleman, baby." he murmured, and you almost felt how everything is just rising in you.

That little "nickname" especially furiated you.

"Let me go, Vince."

"I could just take you, you know? Anywhere, even in your little clinic, and yet, I'm asking nicely. So, stop acting like a little bitch and–"

"–Good morning."

Your eyes immediately went to the stranger's voice – even if you didn't see him, you knew who it was. That sharp tone, cold, brown eyes, transporter with his cat in it; hell, it looked almost hilarious. Height difference between him and your ex wasn't big, yet, if you'd be talking about muscle…

All in all, Simon probably could eat him alive if he wanted to.

"Morning. I'll take you and Sparkles in a minute." you smiled weakly, trying to at least act okay, like nothing was happening. He didn't need any of this shit, you thought you could play it perfectly on your own.

"I'll take you?" your ex laughed, shaking his head to himself. His grip tightened on your wrist, and that made Simon put transporter on the ground immediately. "Seriously? He's your new toy or something, Addison?"

"He's a client and even if he were, it's none of your business. I already told you no."

"Barely five months, and you're acting like a whore" he laughed bitterlessly, looking at you with pure venom. "I wonder, how many dudes–"

Your ex wasn't even capable of finishing that sentence. His comments were like a breaking point for Simon, as he grabbed his two wrists, freeing you from him and bent Vince's arms under… really, really weird and uncomfortable angle.

It was almost unbelieveable how easy he did it, and it all looked like he wasn't putting any effort in it, even if you knew he had to.

"When a lady" he started, his voice low "tells you no, I think she does mean it, hm?"

"Oh, fucking let go of me, dude, you don't even–"

"–I believe she told you the same, and you didn't let her go."

How Simon looked right now, surprised even you – it's not like he was visibly mad or anything, because he had a motherfucking poker face. Yet, he looked terrifying, and if you would be in Vince's place, you'd run as fast as you could, trying to just get out of his sight.

Probably your ex thought the same since he looked at him furiously, mumbled some "sorry" that didn't sound convincing at all and walked away, when blonde let him go.

It made you feel lighter when you saw him stepping into his car and driving off.

"Thank you." you said, looking up in your 'savior's' eyes, who now eyed you up and down, trying to… find something? You didn't know until he pointed at your wrist, a bit concerned? It was really hard to read him or what he was thinking.

"How's your wrist?"

Oh.

"Been better." you shrugged, looking at your wrist too. Maybe it wasn't the worst, but you still felt like Vince's hands were there. "You didn't have to."

He rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit. Everyone who has some common sense should do this" he sighed, his eyes going up to meet yours.

For a few second, you both were silent, just two people looking at each other and you couldn't find the right words. Even if you thanked him, it seemed like too little considering he made Vince go away.

Even if it was for a moment and he could come back. It was… thoughtful.

"Not everyone would." you commented, but he was silent on that, as his brows furrowed. "Come on in, we have an appointment to do."

Simon followed you, without any word of course – he was being all mysterious again, or just simply in his thoughts, but you didn't mind. Not when you had a cat to take a good look at and Sparkles was absolutely looking gorgeous, even more healthier and even more… lively? Well, you could say that, especially the moment she practically jumped out of the transporter and you barely catched her, laughing at her behavior. Bernie was mesmerized too.

After a second or two of petting (Sparkles was irrestible, just that) you started examining her again, and when you really thought she doesn't need another x-ray, you did one, just in case your sixth sense was wrong. She seemed more than okay though; as you allowed her to inspect some places in your room and walk around, there was no hesitation in her moves.

That ginger cat even jumped over a few counters, causing Simon to have a heart attack and order her around to get down while Bernie was reaching her hands to her. You barely held back a laughter while you waited for x-ray results, because 6'4 man was practically begging his cat to come down, and she didn't give a shit about this. What's more funny, she licked her paw, not bothering to look at her owner.

You thought that he was more fitting for a dog owner, though – at least, the first time you looked at him. Back then, you could see how good his cat was for him especially considering the reputation they had and the attitude they had. Pretty much, the cats were Simon, and Simon was a cat. Black one.

Stepping their own path, choosing carefully who they want to trust, and who they want to simply avoid. It was the first vibe he gave off, and you didn't know about any other specific thing since he wasn't chatty, but it was a gut feeling.

And your gut feelings, mostly, weren't wrong.

X-ray came quickly; just as you thought, everything was healing up pretty well and Sparkles could just be fine with walking around apartment or really any other area, without her owner lurking at her all the time. What's more to it, a big satisfaction for you, she was looking even better, which you obviously said to him, like a praise.

Everything was fine, so why you were feeling a little sad? It was uncanny to feel this way, especially about something so normal, like a client and their owner. It was never something deeper, he never told you anything to feel attached to. Bernie wasn't feeling this way, she even left before results came in because it was late.

So why were you?

"You'll get a text when your visit will be scheduled. If something would be bothering you, I'm always over the phone" you smiled a bit, giving Sparkles a last bump in her tiny nose, before closing the gabinet behind you.

Once again, Simon was the last client. What a coincidence, huh?

"Right." he mused.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but didn't – at least, not until when you moved past your car, even if your keys were dingling in your hand. Simon even raised his eyebrow which was odd enough since mostly he had this perfect poker face.

"Can't believe it."

"Listen, listen" you squealed, one of your hand going through your hair. "I have a point in not giving my car to my mechanic. It would be rude."

Simon huffed, his eyes glistening with amusement.

"Rude. Giving car to mechanic, whose job is, simplest words given, repairing cars."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"Well, okay, it's not only that. She's my best friend, Celia. And we haven't spoken in… eight, nine months because we had a fight."

He was silent; awfully silent, so you took it as a sign to bring him into the details, if he wanted it or not.

"You know, she told me to break up with Vince. Called me a few names, I called her a shitty best friend, we were even. She was right though" you sighed. "But since then… well, it is just bad to reach out to her because my car is in shitty condition. It's not right." you babbled.

"And he ain't even worth a fight." he mumbled, more than himself than to you; your gazes crossed once again. "Just talk to her. It's just a man, your friendship is more valuable. And, your car is more valuable than this."

"Smart, coming from just a man" you teased him with a smile, nudging his side with your elbow.

You knew he was right though; Vince wasn't even worth it in the first place. To fight over someone like him.

Which was ironic, after fight with Celia, you two were together for only a few months. Theoretically, you could reach out after the breakup, but in practice, a wave of shame and guilt going through you was damn big that time. She was your friend, even best friend just trying to give you advice. Maybe too harshly, but it was her way of doing things – after saying something out of place, she was realizing that it might appear bad.

A sagittarius, what's more to explain?

"See, I'm the famous exception." he looked at you; he didn't nudged you back or anything, but seeing the corner of his lips twitching a bit was good enough for you. Cocky, challenging. He was confident.

You wanted to even dig in deeper, make some comments about this little smile to rile him up a bit, but you forgot what was on your mind in seconds when you realized that he was still walking with you.

He was supposed to turn right at crossroad.

"Taking a shortcut?" you asked him, even if in your mind was another question. It was better to play dumb than making assumptions, you thought.

"Walking you home."

You raised an eyebrow – surprised that you were right. You tried to tell yourself that maybe it wasn't big. He was in military after all, maybe it was a feeling of responsibility talking, work responsibility, to take care of everyone.

Yet, a feeling in your chest was a warm one. He was practically a stranger with absolutely cute cat, adorable eyes and a face that practically begged to be studied better. Still, you were a bit too shy to look, as you didn't want to appear as rude.

"May I ask why?" you glanced at transporter in his hand with Sparkles in it.

"You may, always. The thing is, I might not answer" he hummed, his eyes on the road straight, although you could see that his attention is on the high alert. A simple noise, and his eyes darted to the place.

"I know it anyway. Why are you doing this, I mean."

"Do you?" he raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Then?"

"Well, I might not tell you that."

Simon snorted with laughter.

"Alright."

You lasted maybe a minute of quiet.

"I think that's because of that situation with Vince. And because I don't have this shitty car, so you thought it would be better to, like, walk me home. Even if it's not something that you have to do."

"You're always like this?" he asked after a few seconds, out of the blue, and you had to blink twice to register that.

"Like what?"

"Talking. Even if you pretty much told me you're not gonna tell me."

"…yeah." you mumbled with a bit of shame, pink creeping at your cheeks. "Are you always so reserved?"

"Negative. I'm not reserved, 'st talking when I'm supposed to." he shrugged, as he looked at you, which you saw with the corner of your eye, considering that now your attention was on your sneakers. "And that assumption… might be true. Too many jackasses are walking 'round here, including your ex."

"Oh, you have no idea."

After this comment, the rest of road to your apartment was pretty much silent – and it wasn't also that much far, so before you even knew, you stood right in front of your apartament building.

"I guess that's it. Thank you, seriously. You didn't have to, and yet, you did" you chuckled awkwardly, taking a few steps back. "Night, Simon."

"Night." he nodded.

"Addison?" he called out, which made you look back at him. "Check that car, alright? I'm gonna send you the number to my mechanic, but talk with that Celia girl."

"Oh, I… yeah, alright. Gonna wait for that." you choked out, surprised.

It was a nice feeling – to know that he's gonna text you, and not only that, he… well, was "care" the good word for what he did? You couldn't help but wonder when you finally found yourself in front of your door, third floor of building. Something pushed you to check if he's still visible out there – and, he was, even if barely, walking calmly with that transporter of his.

And one second later, he looked straight in your window.

Was that a coincidence? Maybe, but the feeling made you dizzy, so you hid swiftly behind the wall, clearing your throat – a few seconds later, when you looked again, Simon was gone, leaving you with many thoughts.

[gotham-daydreams]

Honestly, if I was reader I would weaponize the fact they literally know next to nothing about me. Hear me out

Bruce and fam show up and are like: it's so irresponsible for you to just disappear and not tell anyone, did you drop out of school just to get away

Me, knowing they never paid attention anyways: no one wanted to talk that night so I left a note. And no I didn't drop out, I graduated with honors. I went to/am going to college for___ degree. I took my diplomas with me because it's MY accomplishment

Or

Bruce letting his high tech medical machine do a series of tests because he's lost it and wants to know every detail down to your white cell count: you've had a significant damage to your pelvis in recent months

Me : oh yeah, My husband is going through a phase

Bruce : you're married???

Me : was it my ring or extraordinarily good sex life that gave it away??

Like seriously, I'd not pull any punches when it comes to hurting them back for what they did to me. Such as mentioning lasting injuries or traumatic events that happened while they were pretending I didn't exist. If anything I'd bring it up just to hammer in the fact that I.don't.need.them. And let them all have mental breakdowns. It gives me joy. And the best part is, they really wouldn't know what's fact or fiction. Let them go hunting for a husband that doesn't exist. Send them on wild goose chases for anything and everything they don't know.

Again, I love all of these spite posts and y'all are a RIOT and I love y'all for that, oh my god.

Icing on the cake? Of course the reader has gotten hurt in the past. They've overworked each and every last atom in their bodies just to have an inch of a connect with the Batfam, but still got nothing for their efforts. Which may or may not be mentioned in part 3 when stuff starts tumbling down even more.

Honestly, why not just make shit like that worse? How are they going to know?

You broke your wrist? Say it was your arm.

An ankle? Say it was both your legs and you were maybe even bedridden for a while. Or just on crutches (which may or may not be canon).

Hell, with the whole husband thing — why not lowkey turn it into a whole ass drama for the hell of it? You've had pervious partners in the past, and honestly some of them were kind of shit but there was this one person who you're actually kind of chill with. Maybe you still have a drink with them every now and again. You're married but have already been through your first divorce and have maybe been thinking of having children, or maybe you already do! (Which, of course, they can be pets but how is the Batfam going to know that right away?)

Basically, go off. They honestly deserve it, and especially because after years they still don't know the smallest thing about the reader. Well- besides that they're into music, and even then that's only about half of them? I believe?

The only one that would see through your bs is Alfred but he isn't going to say anything. Not without being sassy himself and heavily sarcastic. Even if he'll only play along for so long, your the favorite so it's okay. Besides it wouldn't be the first mind games he's played.

It may take everyone a little longer, but you can guess why. Hell, maybe some lies they'll never even find out about, since some of the best lies are told with a little bit of truth to them.

Regardless, it all spunds very fun ♡♡