#‘if you’re so concerned about how her hair works why aren’t you more concerned about the possession or the supernatural forces?’

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

This has been haunting me since forever. How tf does Kourin’s hair work.

Like yes I know she’s not the only person in cfv with Anime Hair but at least Aichi’s lil swoopy bang thing and Kai’s hairstyle and even Chrono’s fucking spiral could happen with enough hairspray and patience but how does Kourin’s ponytail hold her hair up??? The ponytail only seems to be connected to the hair in the loop, by all logic it should fall off the top of her head but it doesn’t how does it work 😭

[disneyprincemuke]

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shoot (2)

Hi guys !

I hope you are fine. I’m still struggling with writer’s block but I tried some things to get over it, so here is my new creation.

It’s a mix from a request I had here, and for asks from the prompt that you can find here and here.

It’s the second part of Ready, Aim, Shoot but I tried to make it understandable even if you didn’t have read the first part.

So please enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of accident, coma, injuries, blood. But it will get better.

Prompt : 22 (I won't anyone lay an hand on you) & 28 (Why are you bleeding?)

PART 1 | PART 3

____________________________________________________________

You never felt as weird as Alexia takes you home from the airport. Barcelona doesn’t have change in any way, it’s still the same streets, the same traffic jam, the same scents, the same laughs and happiness of people. But you, you have changed. What you have to get through make you change. You’ve learned the death of three of your colleagues. They are dead and you are not. Some of them had kids, lovers and they are dead. Why you, aren’t you dead? Why did you survive the bomb, your injuries when others didn’t?

Alexia puts her hand delicately on your knee and you jump, returning to reality. She looks at you with concern and you try to give her a smile, but you fail.

“It’s going to be alright, mi Amor. You are not alone. I’m here so is your parents, your siblings and your friends.”

“I know” you confirm quietly. “I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be for anything mi Amor.”

You put your hand on Alexia’s, stroking her fingers with your thumb while looking outside. The sun is shining and you’re pretty sure that all the beaches are crowded with people. You always loved going there but with Alexia’s popularity you have to find more quiet beaches. Which you don’t mind. As long as you’re with her, it’s all that it matters.

At home, you are greeted by your cat who comes to rub himself against your legs while meowing, until you lower yourself to carry him. The movement makes you wince in pain, which Alexia doesn’t miss. But you assure her it’s okay, squeezing Diabolo against you. He let you do it for some minutes, before leaving your arms to go back to sleep.

“Glad to see that some things will never change” you roll your eyes.

Alexia laughs slightly, coming back from the bathroom where she putted your suitcase that she didn’t let you carry. She takes your hand in hers, taking you gently against her.

“If you hug me, you’ll see that I will never let you go”

“Take that Diabolo.”

You smile, getting as close as your injuries let you do it. The painkiller seems to start to stop working and you surely have to take one soon. But first you need to take a good shower, you’re not allowed to take a bath because of your scars.

“I’m going to take a shower” you inform your girlfriend.

She nods, kisses your cheek and follows you to the bathroom. You started to get off of your clothes, before stopping. You usually don’t mind Alexia’s presence in the bathroom when you take your shower, it’s a moment where you talk a lot about things. Sometimes she showers with you, other times she does different facial or hair treatments or she just sit on the toilet lid.

But today, you have way more scares than before and you’re not sure that you want Alexia to see it. The blonde sees you looking at her through the mirror and bites her lip. She immediately understands your torment.

“I’ll leave if you want. But I want you to know that it won’t change the way I look at you or the way I love you. No matter how your body is, you’re still you. And I will always love you.”

You nod, but you’re still nervous. Like if she doesn’t want to scare you, Alexia come to you slowly, surrounding you with her arms.

“Let me help you?”

She’s looking at your eyes in the mirror and you nod one more time. You let her take off your shirt and pants. She had done that a thousand times, but always with teasing hands or eagerly. Today, however, her hands are sweet and caring, as if she wanted to heal you with them. She also removes the protection on your knee and shoulder, with a thousand precautions.

She frowns when she sees your injuries. Your nose doesn’t look broken anymore, but you still have bruises and cuts. You swallow but then you see that she’s looking at one of your scare on your stomach.

“Why are you bleeding?”

You follow her eyes and shrug lightly.

“This one seems to have difficulty to heal” you mumble.

“I’ll take you to the Barca’s medic tomorrow. But now, you have to take your shower and get some rest.”

********

Alexia takes you to her favorite medical team and they work their magic. You still have pain sometimes, especially on your shoulder, but you are getting better. You filed your resignation some days after your arrival at Barcelona and it’s not a surprise for anyone. Some media tried to talk to you about what happened, but you shut them down every time. It’s too soon.

You’re pretty great during the day, you keep yourself busy with things. Alexia is almost always there with you and when she isn’t, you have friends or family visiting. Alexia takes you to walk in early morning for Nala’s stroking, every day. She’s an angel of patience, always kind, caring and loving. You cook for her every night, following her diet with attention. This allows you to occupy your mind and hands.

Your girlfriend and family insist that you go to see a specialist, to talk about what you’ve been through. You hate this. It’s always hard for you to talk about all this. You beg almost every time Alexia to not make you go, but she’s determined, confident that it will help you get better quickly. The worst thing is that she’s right.

At nights, however, it’s more difficult. You have trouble to fall asleep even if you avoid naps during the day to help you falling asleep. But it doesn’t work well. You stay still in your bed for hours; you don’t want to wake Alexia up. She takes so good care of you, she deserves her beauty sleep.

And when you fall asleep, you have a lot of nightmares. It’s normal and a process to get better if you listen to your psychoanalyst. But it’s still terrifying. For you and your girlfriend.

Once again tonight, Alexia is awakened by your scream of terrors. You’re still asleep in your nightmare when she sits on the bed. You’re turning around, the sheet wrapped around you, fighting against your nightmare. It’s always difficult for her to wake you up, she scared that you hurt yourself when you’re jiggling like that, but she’s scared too that she might hurt you.

So, she takes your face between her hands, calling you several times before you finally open your eyes.

“Alexia” you call her, terrified.

“I’m here mi Amor. It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You sit down too, looking around you. You become aware of the bedroom you share with Alexia and her presence at your side. She’s stroking your arm lightly, looking at you patiently.

“Ale” you mumble this time.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I won't anyone lay a hand on you.”

She takes you on her arms, making you sit on her lap. Letting yourself go against her. She strokes your back this time, rocking you softly. You let your breath slow down, very aware of your quick heartbeat.

“I’m sorry”

Alexia takes the time to kiss your jaw, your cheek several times and your forehead before answering.

“You don’t have to be.”

“Yes, I do, Ale. I’m a mess. I can’t sleep and I can’t do a lot of things alone because of my injuries. I keep waking you up almost every night because I can’t get better. I should have listened to you and stay at Barcelona. I’m so so…”

But Alexia doesn’t let you finish, putting a finger on your lips to stop your rambling. Tears are in your eyes again but for now you managed to keep them inside your eyes.

“You’re getting better, Y/N. You don’t zone out like you did when you came back. You smile more, your injuries are getting better, and I see you smile way more than before. No one expects to you to heal in two days, especially not me. You took so good care of me when I was injured, now it’s my turn.”

She puts a hand on your cheek, making you look at her. Her hazel eyes are looking at you with so much care and love that it took your breath away.

“What if the nightmares never end Ale?”

“We will find a way to heal you, mi Amor. I swear.”

You believe her. She seems so sure of herself that you believe her. She kisses your cheek again and when you turn your face, she kisses the corner of your mouth first and then your lips. One time, two time and the third you press your lips a little longer against her.

********

Alexia was right. You get better, even if it takes time. You still have nightmare sometimes, but you manage to not wake Alexia up every time. She’s not happy when you don’t though, wanting to be there for you as much as she can.

When your shoulder is better, she lets you come back to look at her games, as long as you are with her sister or her mother. She’s way too scared that someone push you and hurt you again to let you go there by yourself. You feel bad for Alba or Eli, given the imperious tone with which Alexia orders them to watch over you. But the two women don’t seem to mind, looking at you like you are the most precious thing in the world. When you joke about it with Eli one time, she answers you that you are the most precious thing in Alexia’s word. You didn’t know what answer to that.

Alexia always takes a thousand precautions with you, whether you are at home or outside. She doesn’t hesitate to scold someone who approaches you too much or to carry you from one room to another to avoid working your knee after your physiotherapy sessions. Which she wants to take you every time, by the way.

And the best thing about all of this, she does all of this without being intrusive. On the contrary. Her presence reassures you and is a strength for you. Your recovery without her would have been very much longer.

Tonight, she’s not taking you at home immediately after the game like she did the other times. Instead, she takes you with her in the lobby where the families are going after the games. There you met her friends, that you also appreciate very much too.

“Take it easy, Lucy, you’re going to hurt her.”

Alexia practically teleported to your side when she saw Lucy take you in her arms to greet you.

“I’m careful Capi, don’t worry.”

You smile at Lucy after she told you she was happy to see you again. You’re seeing many of Alexia’s teammates you haven’t seen since you returned to Barcelona. But your girlfriend never walks away from you, except to get you something to drink. And when you start to get tired, she sees it immediately.

“Do you want to go home?” she whispers in your ear.

You smile softly, letting yourself go against her. She passes delicately her arms around your waist and put her chin on your shoulder.

“You’re having fun, we can stay a little bit longer if you want.”

“How is your knee?”

“I’m fine, Cariño.”

She hums and keep you against her for a few more moments, kissing softly your cheek.

“Five more minutes and we go.”

“Alright Capitana” you smirk.

She snorts, pinching your rib lightly, surely not to hurt you. You can’t wait for your bruises to completely disappear, so that Alexia can start touching you again like she used to. Her love language being touching, you sometimes feel like she has to restrained herself.

That’s what you’re thinking about in her car when she takes you home. You’re thinking about it when you prepare yourself to go to bed too and when you’re in her arms in your bed you start to overthink it maybe a little too much. What if she never touches you like before, because all she’s going to see from you is this wounded woman? What if she finds someone else wit who she wants to share this kind of moment with? Alexia saw that you were a little lost in your thoughts when you came home, but she didn’t push you to talk about it.

You just have to look up to know what she’s peacefully asleep. Her face is completely relaxed, and her chest rises peacefully to the rhythm of her breathing. Yours is quite complicated, so you choose to escape her arms to take refuge in your balcony, hopping the fresh air will help you.

Sitting in a chair, you put your head in your hands, trying to collect your thoughts. Alexia promised to never let you down, but how can she be certain that her feelings will never change?

You don’t know how many times you are staying here, but Alexia’s voice almost makes you fall from your seat. You’re so surprised that you don’t understand what she says to you. You just blink at her as she’s looking at you with a worried look.

“You will freeze to death, come inside please.”

You take the hand she hands you to help you get up. And she wraps you in her arms in a protective way as soon as she closes the door. The warm of her skin makes you realize that you are, in fact, very cold.

“Were you trying to get pneumonia or something?” she asks, frowning.

“I couldn’t sleep” you mumble.

She sighs and she doesn’t have to say what she’s thinking. You already know that she’s not happy that you didn’t wake her. She doesn’t bother to tell it to you anyway.

“Do you need a hot shower, or can we go to bed?”

“We can go to bed” you sigh.

She seems upset and you hesitate to lye against her, but she takes you back in her arms.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she asks, some minutes after.

“No” you simply answer.

“Why couldn't you sleep so?”

“I don’t know.”

Alexia knows that you’re lying, and she hates it. But she doesn’t say anything, knowing that you will talk about it when you are ready. Some minutes passes before you talk again.

“I’m just scared” you whisper in the darkness of your room.

“About what?”

Her voice learns you that she’s not sleepy at all. Maybe she decided to stay awake as long as you’re not sleeping. She raises herself a little bit, to have a better look at you.

“Losing you”

Your voice is a whisper, but Alexia reacts like if you were screaming, almost jumping from her place in the bed.

“Why would you lose me?”

You shrug, but Alexia doesn’t have it. She looks at you, waiting for you to give her a proper answer. You take your time to choose your words, scared of starting a fight. You try to escape the real discussion once again.

“I don’t know, it’s just my insecurities I guess.”

“Talk to me, mi Amor. Please”

You look at her and sit down, feeling like you have to look properly at her for this kind of things. Alexia sits too, her beautiful eyes looking deeply at you.

“I’m scared to never be enough for you again. I’m not saying that I was at one time, but right now… What if you never se me again like someone… I don’t know how to say it without being cringe.”

You roll your eyes, tired of yourself. Alexia shows you once again how much she can be patient though, taking your hand in hers to interlink your fingers together.

“I don’t want to be your poor injured girlfriend for the end of our life. I want you to see me as someone who can take one of our long walk again, someone who you can do everything you want with. Someone you can touch the way you like without being scared of hurting.”

Alexia is looking at you closely, listening every one of you word with deep care.

“When I hurt my knee, were you seeing me like someone reduced?”

“Of course not” you frown.

“Well it’s just the same thing for me. I don’t see you as my injured girlfriend, I see you as the love of my life that I almost lost some weeks before.”

“But my body isn’t the same anymore, Ale”

“Your scars will only remind me everyday how lucky I am to have you and how much I love you. And I will kiss them everyday to remind me of that.”

Raising slowly her hand on your cheek, she starts to stroke it softly, but her eyes are full of love when she looks at you. Deep, sincere love. Then she kisses you before taking you slowly in her arms again, making you lye on her.

“You can sleep tight mi Amor. I’ll always be here.”

[0mg-bird]

How To Breathe ~ B. Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bradley would drop everything to help you, his girl, get through hard things.

Warnings: Anxiety, panic attack! Talks of mental disorder.

For the longest time, you’ve felt like a burden when it comes to these episodes. No one understood what to say when you suddenly couldn’t breathe and the feeling of the world got too heavy. No one could comfort you until Bradley came along.

He never judged, in fact, when you told him about these panic attacks that strike you, he told you he was no stranger to anxiety. He felt the overwhelming feeling too sometimes, but he quickly learned the difference between the two of you, the first time you broke down around him.

Over the years, you’ve learned ways to subside these episodes, you determined triggers, you sought out medication to try and keep these things at bay.

Sometimes though, all the steps you take of prevention, just don’t work.

It was a beautiful night, you were dressed to the nines, along with many other women who accompanied their Navy men to this ceremony. Your hair was pinned up, showing off your shoulders, the neckline of your dress was tasteful in showing your delicate collarbones and the soft tops of your breasts. It was a deep midnight color that Bradley adored. In fact, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you and act professional all night.

He had disappeared with some of the boys and you stood in the corner of the room with women you were introduced to by Bob’s wife. They were kind enough, though a few were more passive aggressive. They talked about nonsense really, they unfaithfulness they’ve had to deal with in the early parts of their marriage, all their questions about when you’ll have kids, why you don’t have kids and why you aren’t married. You felt the itch start, the one that made you feel a little dizzy and made it hard to swallow. You took a deep breath and pushed through, then one of the older women insisted on dragging you through the crowd and introducing you to many other wives who threw silent judgement your way.

The music that played was loud, you constantly bumped into people which made you constantly apologize. Your stomach flipped, your chest started to hurt, you looked around for a familiar face and they were all gone. You were in a sea of people all looking at you like you shouldn’t be there.

Here it came, the crash of panic.

Your breath quickened, you gulped for air and spun around, trying to find your way back to the people you knew. You pushed past people, a hand splayed over your chest.

“You made it back alive.” Bob’s wife, Lindsey, had joked before she took in your appearance. She sees the look of your blown eyes and drained face. “What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t speak, your head shook. “I need air.” You managed to croak.

Immediately, she rushes you from the event halls ballroom and quickly pulled you through the corridors. You pass Maverick and Jake who were in a discussion with other Captains, once they seen you blow by, there concern grew too.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Jake had asked, him and Mav following after the two of you. He pulled open the big doors that led to the back steps.

You were overwhelmingly embarrassed that more people had to see you like this, looking frail, tears clouding your vision as you heaved in and out.

You tried to hide this part of you from everyone, but because of the closeness Mav and Bradley had, Mav knew what this was.

“Where’s Rooster?” He questioned.

“Bob will know.” Lindsey said, moving her grip away and letting you lean on Jake- who is still wildly confused. “Follow me, Mav.” She rushes back inside, the manhunt for the pilot was on.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Jake panicked, looking around for a solution. He placed a firm hand on your arm, but you were so dazed with your thoughts blaring at you, you didn’t know what was happening. You leaned your weight against him, your frame still shaking.

Bradley had been in another room, catching up with pilots he hadn’t seen in a while. Utterly relaxed with a glass in his hand, he didn’t expect the way the door bursted open.

“Rooster, you need to come quick.” Lindsey rushed out, confusing the room.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, standing from his leaned position against a table.

Mav looked at him knowingly. “You’re needed outside immediately.”

Rooster put the pieces together, then he was off without another word. His dress shoes clacked against the flooring as he rushed to the open door to the back gardens. He could see your frame and the way Jake held you, his mind raced because even though he and Jake were good now, he wanted to shove his hands off of his perfect girl.

“Rooster I don’t know what’s wrong with her-” Jake began to explain, but Bradley only gave him a look to shut it. “It’s fine Hangman, she’s okay.”

“She’s hyperventilating!” Jake gently nudged you away from him.

“Don’t yell.” Bradley said in a low warning voice as the loud tone made you quake. He pulls you from Jake, then looks to the others in the doorway. “She’s fine, go back inside.”

They weren’t going to question Bradley, not when it came to you.

As they leave, he gains a more softer persona. “Hey, honey. It’s alright.” He coos, holding your face in his hands. Your makeup smeared from your hot tears, your lips wobble. “I…can’t…breathe.” It comes out broken, he just nods.

“Yes you can, breathe with me.”

“No!” You snap, squirming. “This dress- it’s too tight- I can’t breathe.”

Immediately, Bradley reaches behind you and yanks at the zipper, the force of it rips the material of the dress in some parts. It loosens the tight bodice of the dress and immediately you sob with relief.

“There we go, it’s all okay. This will be over soon, don’t let those thoughts tell you otherwise wise.” He reaches for your fisted hand. He spreads your fingers out, then pulls at the buttons of his dress uniform until he can slide your hand over his chest, pressing it against his ironed shirt so you can feel his steady heartbeat.

“You remember your breathing?” His voice is soft and a lulling comfort. “Come on, breathe in through your nose and hold it, then out through your mouth.”

“I can’t.” You shake your head, but he persists, on hand holding yours to his chest, his other holding the side of your neck. “Yes you can, you’re my brave girl, I know you can.”

Together, you breathe. He feels the pulse in your neck start slow and he wants to sigh with relief.

“Good job, baby. That’s my girl, keep breathing for me. Good girl.”

Your vision clears, you gaze up at him with reddened eyes. The storm is passing and here he was at the end of it.

“I’m sorry.” Are the first calm words from your mouth.

“No, don’t ever be sorry.” He smooths the top of your hair.

It sniffle. “I hate how I’m like this, always raining on parades.”

Bradley shake his head. “You never ruin anything, things like this just happen, my girl.”

You lean your body into him, arms heavy to fully wrap around him so you just grasp the sides of his coat. His strong arms are warm as they wrap around you, like a security blanket, instantly soothing you.

“You want to go home?” He asks and you don’t lift your head to nod, he just feels the movement on his chest.

Bradley only pulls back to slip his coat off and wrap it around you instead, trying to hide the back of your ripped dress. Your hands wrap around his arm as the two of you walk back inside. He stops to say goodbye to Maverick, explaining everything was fine but he was going to take you home.

You were quiet the whole ride, much like your two bedroom home when you arrive.

“Are you hungry?” Bradley asks.

“No.” You answer, laying the coat over the back of the couch and kick your heels off. He kisses the top of your head. “Why don’t you take a hot shower? That’ll help with the headache.”

You loved the way he always knew you, always knew the symptoms that come afterwards, always knew how to help.

You nod, making your way to the shared master bedroom. Your clothes fall into a pile on the floor, you walk into the bathroom and wrap a robe around yourself. In front of the mirror, you struggle to pull all the pins that hold your thick hair up.

“Brad!” You call out, sighing with defeat.

After a second, he’s coming in behind you. You look up at him through the reflection. “I can’t get my hair down.” You explain.

Without a complaint, he starts dropping your hair pins onto the counter. Soon, your curls are falling down softly.

The warm water falls down like rainfall as you enter the shower, you let your head fall forward as the tension in your body leaves. You rub at your face, wiping clean of any salty tears and makeup.

Bradley joins you after a moment, leaving a kiss on your wet shoulder. You turn to face him, a small smile on your lips.

“Ah, there’s my girl.” He grins, which in return makes you grin.

You stare up at him, determining that he was the love of your life and nothing was going to change that.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, seeing your deep look.

You shrug. “I’m just thinking that you’d be the best husband a girl could ask for and yet you won’t ask me to be your wife.”

Bradley laughs then pulls you into him, his hands holding the sides of your face. “You want to be tied to me forever?” He asks in sarcasm, as if you’re supposed to say no.

You nod instead. “I want to be the other half of you, I want you to be the better half of me forever.”

His eyebrows knit together like they always do when he’s feeling some sort of raw emotion. He leans his forehead down to rest against yours. “I’d be lying if I said marrying you wasn’t on my mind all the time.” He says.

Your fingers run through his wet hair. “But it’s soon.”

“A year is long enough for me if it’s long enough for you.”

You laugh, it’s a sweet melody he loves to hear, especially after an evening like the one you had. You lean up on your toes slightly to kiss him, warm water rushes around the two of you but it’s not an inconvenience. Bradley’s grip tightens ever so slightly, his lips pressed against yours in a sort of hunger, like you’re the only thing that can fill him. You pull away slowly, eyes still shut as you chew your bottom lip, thinking.

Your bright eyes open once you’ve found your words. “People get married sooner, all the time.” You declare, giving him your answer.

He fights a boyish vandal grin. “This is not a proposal.” He claims. “But it’s a promise of one, soon.”

Your mind might be a war zone, you might believe you’re damaged at this point, but here stood the strongest man you knew, and he’s washing your hair for you. His rough hands are utterly gentle as they help wash your skin, they’re wrapping a towel around you and leading you out of the shower. He’s pushing all those lies away, the only thing inside you now was a fuzzy burn of utter admiration and love. He falls asleep first, facing you, an arm snug around your waist and you’re left to trace the features of his face with your eyes. In this soft moment, wrapped in bedsheets, you determine that you might drown your entire life.

But he’ll teach you how to breathe.

[tempe-brennans]

and i'd come back if you'd just call

author's note: soulmate au + apocalypse

summary: you show up in jackson and turn joel's life upside down

warnings: implied smut and handsy touching

word count: 2.7k

There’s gray in his hair. He’s sure he should feel grateful for that–especially now–and some part of him does, he supposes.

He has people.

There’s Ellie and Tommy and Maria. You.

He’s not sure exactly what to do about you.

Besides, he’s more concerned about the ache in his back and the knots in his muscles–much more important problems than the love he’s beginning to think he still feels for you or the sunflower burning on his wrist.

There’s heating pads for his muscles and pain pills for his back–concrete solutions.

You, on the other hand, you’re young and fun and something he can’t quite get his fingers around.

And, you had left him–a fact he can’t quite forget. No matter how much he’d like to.

His throat is sore, scratchy in the way that tells him he spent last night snoring. Sighing as he sits up in bed, he cracks one shoulder and then the other.

His feet don’t want to find the floor. His body doesn’t want to hide behind the curtains in his own home because he can never be sure if you can see him.

Tommy thought he was so funny, making you two neighbors.

Joel does turn, eventually, let his feet land on the too cold floor. Toes slip into slippers he’d left in reach when he’d gotten into bed last night. He reaches blindly for the faded flannel robe that’s draped over the chair in the corner of his room.

He hasn’t had time for such indulgences, too busy running–from life, monsters. Anything. Before, he simply hadn’t wanted them.

But, Ellie had presented them both–a set, though the patterns didn’t match at all–as a gift and he hadn’t been able to say no.

He’s tired of being so sharp, so tough. In his own home, at least, maybe he can rest.

Home.

The thought brings his mind back to you, against his will, and as he pours his coffee he tries to see if your lights are on.

He can’t tell. The sun is working against him. He resolves himself to the fact that he’ll run into you at some point in town, so, really, what does it matter if you see each other sooner rather than later?

Besides, he’s almost positive you aren’t sitting in windowsills, pining after him.

He sits in the recliner Tommy had insisted he just had to have and welcomes the ability to put his feet up. It’s a relic–a handle raises and lowers the foot rest–but, somehow, it still works.

Taking a drink of his coffee, he thinks.

There’s no sound in the house, something Joel still hasn’t gotten used to since Ellie moved out.

I’m 20, she had said when Joel had asked if she was sure she wanted to leave, as if that was an explanation. Besides, don’t you want your own space?

He didn’t, if she wanted to know the truth. He wanted to hear her downstairs cooking breakfast or the sound of her snoring through the crack in her bedroom door.

He knew why she had gone, though. It was the same reason he had left home the moment he turned 18.

Freedom.

So, he could understand it, even if he wasn’t entirely fond of it.

He sees her every few days anyway.

Coffee now gone, he knows his day has to start, even if the town now feels like a loaded gun is waiting around every corner. He dresses–a flannel still happily coasting between cozy and too threadbare and jeans. He cracks his front door, feels the bite of the winter wind, and shuts it firmly.

An extra jacket wouldn’t hurt.

x

“I’m telling you,” Joel mumbles, “she probably doesn’t even remember.”

Tommy quirks a brow. “Are you kidding?” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You spent the better half of a year together. The tattoos–”

“I don’t wanna talk about the tattoos,” Joel dismisses. “Besides,” he mutters, “it was eleven months.”

“Oh,” Tommy hums. “My mistake.”

Silence and then, “You know someone will notice, right?”

Joel tilts his head. “You see me wearing a lot of short sleeves in the winter?”

“You can’t use the weather to hide forever, bro. The minute Ellie–hell, anybody–notices the two identical sunflowers on your arms?” He shakes his head. “Secrets out.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks. “What secret is that?”

His little brother leans in, whispers, “You can still find your soulmate after the apocalypse.”

“She’s the one that left.” Joel sighs. “Obviously, she didn’t care that we were soulmates.”

“You don’t even know why she left!” Tommy exclaims, exasperated.

Joel quirks a brow. “Somehow I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the apocalypse and all.”

His brother claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing but time now.”

x

Joel walks the streets of Jackson, spitting snow beginning to fall around him.

Maybe Tommy is right. It’s not like Joel doesn’t have some extra time on his hands, a strange concept after the last twenty years, he has to admit.

Maybe he should take advantage of it.

It’s that thought that’s rattling around in his brain when he collides with someone else.

“Sorry!” He reaches out, blindly, tries to catch the person or their belongings–something. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” a voice says. It’s a voice he’s never forgotten–couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to–and he kicks himself that this is the way he’d run into you again.

Literally.

“It was really,” you stand, catch sight of his face for the first time, “my fault.”

He’s older now, grayer and a little softer around the edges, but, still, he can see the moment recognition lights on your features.

“Joel?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. For once, his mind is completely blank. It can’t begin to come up with an adequate greeting for an old flame that, maybe, still burns somewhere behind his rib cage. He settles on an all too casual, “Hi.”

You smile, a soft thing. “Hi.”

On instinct it seems, you take a step closer and hug him. Though it’s been years, the feeling of you pressed against him, your arms around him, it’s familiar.

He wants to hate it, but he doesn’t. Not even a little.

He barely resists the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, take a minute to inhale your scent, before you pull away.

“S’nice to see you.”

Joel nods. “You, too.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie.

“Your hair, it’s…softer,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” Joel reaches up, runs an idle hand through it. “Haven’t had a lot of time for haircuts, I guess.” He shrugs. “I kinda got used to it.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time.”

Joel quirks a brow. “Whose fault was that?”

It’s too sharp, too biting, and he can see the results flash across your face.

Shaking your head, you glare at him, blow out a breath. “I should have known you hadn’t changed.”

You turn on your heel, away from him, and he wants to reach out, tell you he’s sorry, but something won’t let him.

He thinks it’s his heart.

“I’ve changed plenty!” He calls after your shrinking form. “Changed enough to know I should stay away from you.”

You look over your shoulder–just for a second–long enough to cut him to the core. “The feeling is mutual!”

He sighs and continues on his own path, towards his own lonely house, entirely too close to you for comfort.

x

“So.” Ellie sighs. “That went well.”

Joel chuckles, rolls his eyes. “You think?”

“We can fix it,” she says, sitting on the couch closest to him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Sure about that?,” he asks. “It’s not a leaky sink, you know.”

Her eyes light up in the very particular way that tells Joel she’s had an idea he won’t be fond of.

He’s suddenly nervous.

“That’s it,” she exclaims.

“What’s it?”

Ellie leaves the room, obviously in search of something, and ignores him.

“Ellie,” he calls after her. “Ellie, what’s it?”

x

It’s her scheming that puts him on your porch, in fact, toolbox in hand and looking for something to fix.

Real or fake, it hadn’t really mattered to Ellie.

He should never have told her he had been a contractor.

The door opens and you glare at him, unsurprisingly.

“What do you want?”

He spits it out, before he can change his mind, run back home and hide.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He shakes his head. “You left…before. And, I was angry and seeing you again…” He trails off, settles on simplicity. “I’m sorry.”

Something in your face softens as you step aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry for leaving, you know.”

You take him off guard, turn his pulse to a gallop.

“I was…I was afraid,” you murmur, skipping over his own apology in a way that’s entirely you.

Of course it’s the way you’d let him know things are okay.

“I should have told you that, though, instead of disappearing.”

He nods, swallows down a memory he doesn’t exactly want to relive right now, whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod, smile at him. “You want a drink? Some food?”

He nods, places the toolbox in the floor next to your couch.

“That’d be nice.”

x

Joel isn’t sure how long the two of you have been talking–minutes or hours. Maybe days. Easy familiarity settles over the pair of you, and things are like they used to be.

He’s glad for it.

“Were there others?” Joel asks, words slipping out before he can stop them.

It’s the question that he somehow desperately wants the answer to and also never wants to hear.

You nod. “A few.” But, then, “None like you.”

It’s more honest than he expected, like your heart has opened to him once again.

You’re vulnerable. He knows you hate that.

“That makes sense.” He nods, rising to his feet, hand curling around the handle of his toolbox, imagining you want him to take his leave. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

You laugh, look at him with something he would have called affection, once upon a time. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Something buzzes inside of him at the knowledge he can still make you laugh, even after everything, and he ducks his head, starts to head for the door.

“Joel?”

He turns, finds apprehension on your features.

He aches to set you at ease.

“Yeah?”

“Could you…would it…” You shake your head, shoulders squaring like you’re heading into a fight. “Would you want to stay? The night? With…with me.”

In a minute, he forgets it all. The pain and heartache and anger disappears with one look at your eyes.

“Yes.”

Simple–the way it’s always been between the two of you.

x

You crawl on top of him in a way he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined over the years.

His hands find a resting place on either of your hips, squeeze the flesh there lightly.

“Hi,” you murmur, grin on your face.

“Hi.” He smiles.

It’s different when you’re with your soulmate.

Joel had been with others, sure.

Tess comes to mind, but he quickly shakes the thought away–along with the memory of her death.

But, every time, even when stars popped up behind his eyelids and warmth erupted through his every limb, it wasn’t what it had been with you.

The best way he could think to describe it was…more.

As you lean down, press a kiss to his lips, he finally admits to himself how much he’d missed it. You.

x

Joel feels you pull away and squeezes you closer. “Where you goin’?,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

“Shirt,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, nuzzles his nose into the hollow of your throat.

Chuckling softly, you say, “S’winter, Joel.”

He holds you even closer–if that’s possible. “I’ll keep you warm.” Then, just to tease, fingers dance over your hip bone, inches from the crux of your thighs. “Any way you want.”

“Joel…”

“Or, are you too old for this game?” He hums, getting a rise out of you too tempting to ignore. “You get soft on me while you were away?”

Your own hand–cold from it’s trip beyond the faded quilt that covers you both–dances along the soft skin of his stomach, curls around his still too sensitive length. He jumps, hisses out a breath, interest already simmering at the base of his spine.

“I can still play,” you purr. “Can you?”

Your hand works him over, languid strokes finding a pattern that makes his skin buzz.

Joel rises, mouth desperate to find yours.

He’s always liked to be kissed–especially by you, especially when you’re touching him the way you are.

You indulge him, lips parting to let his tongue tangle with your own. He can’t help but grin into the kiss.

x

In the morning, he wakes alone. Part of him isn’t shocked. Part of him is heartbroken all over again.

Quickly, he gets dressed–avoiding mirrors with the hopes of missing any evidence you’d left behind of the night before.

He goes to Tommy’s, doesn’t even look towards your house as he walks down the street.

x

“You’ve been in love before.” Tommy shrugs. “Maybe it could happen again. Nothing says you have to be with your soulmate.”

Joel hadn’t thought about it when he’d fallen in love with Sarah’s mother.

He hadn’t had much choice, if he’s honest. One look at her and he had been done for.

So, the fact she didn’t have a sunflower on the soft skin of her forearm wasn’t of much consequence. The fact she had her own tattoo–purple dahlia petals curling around her own wrist–had never mattered to her either.

They had shared a life and love and had turned that love into something that lived outside of them.

Sarah.

It was only a few months after she was born that Joel had woken up alone to the sound of Sarah’s crying.

He had adjusted, though. The two of them had made a team and found happiness all on their own.

Until…well, Joel didn’t really like to think about that day–that last day. He preferred to imagine her laughing, head thrown back in joy.

“I know,” he murmurs. He adds, almost under his breath, “I don’t think I want to fall in love. Not if it’s not with her.”

Tommy ducks his head, sheepish all of a sudden.

“What is it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

He leans forward, insistent. “Tommy, what is it?”

“She told Maria that she was…thinking of leaving Jackson.”

Joel is off Tommy’s couch and out the door before Tommy can ask where he’s going.

Joel suspects he knows.

x

His knocks are incessant, barely a pause between them.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself. “Please don’t be gone.”

The door opens, shocking Joel, and he almost falls through it.

“You can’t leave Jackson,” he pants. There’s an ache in his side, a pulling at muscles that scream with use more often than they don’t these days. He’s certain he shouldn’t have run to make sure he caught you.

You shake your head, hands coming to rest on either side of his face.

It’s a gesture full of affection and hope ignites in his gut.

“I’m not leaving,” you murmur.

Joel’s tongue is heavy, suddenly too thick to form a reply. “You…you’re not?”

“No.” Gently, your thumb rubs back and forth over his cheekbone. “I thought of something to stick around for.”

“Yeah?” Joel hums. “What’s that?”

“You.”

Joel feels the heat flush his cheeks. The emotions he really feels are too much–too real–so, he settles for a joke.

“That makes sense.” He nods. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

“Yeah.” You laugh, duck your head for a minute before your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

x

Later that night, with most of your closet mingled with his own, he pulls you close to him in bed. His lips ghost over your forehead and an arm wraps around your side.

He glances down at his wrist, takes in the bright yellows of the sunflower petals. With gentle fingers, he finds your wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the yellow of your own petals.

There’s gray in his hair, but, right now, he couldn’t feel more grateful for it.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere!Johnny Cage w/Singer! Darling

A/N: I was listening to one way or another by blondie tonight and this came into my head😩 This song was literally just the letters and threats that blondie’s stalker sent to her. She decided to make it into a song to not only put him on blast but to mock him. Ughhh This is so perfectttt!! I hope y’all enjoy this lol. Johnny is such a perfect yandere

Warnings: John Carlton 😵‍💫, toxic and abusive themes

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Song reference—one way or another|blondie

Being in the public eye as a well known singer is wonderful. The fans, the interviews, the money and press are all great and all…that is until you’re trying to discreetly leave your obsessive ex boyfriend.

It was impossible trying to escape him. Every interaction, every address you stayed at and every new phone number you got was eventually leaked to the public and right back into Johnny’s grimy little hands.

For weeks after you initially left, he followed you everywhere. You swore you’ve seen a strangely familiar blonde drive past your friend’s place and wait out in parking lots. Even if it wasn’t him physically and the paranoia was getting the best of you, hundreds of vile letters and messages from Johnny were constantly being sent your way.

A lot of them read about how he was going to “get his hands on you” or how he’d “never stop stalking you and if he can’t find you, he’ll start going after everyone you loved…one by one.”

His threats shook you down to your core. Even the ones that weren’t threatening and were just love letters that declared his devotion were still creepy. He was so far gone and delusional about you. It was so surreal

Ignoring all of his messages was no use because all over social media, magazines and tv was him crying over you. Completely fabricating stories and lies about you. How he claims you’re manic right now and are a danger to yourself, how he just wants you back in his loving arms. Oh how safe you’d be when you get back to him. Bullsh*t

It was so out of control that you kept on the road. Hoping it’d keep him guessing on your next location. You even changed your hair and style to appear unrecognizable to the public. You became more homely looking but that hardly worked and only made things worse. The public started believing him more and more with your changed appearance and new nomadic lifestyle.

Soon your passion for music and lively personality became merely a hollow shell of what it used to be. So consumed by fear and anxiety that you hardly could function��.you was terrified for the day he’d inevitably get you.

It wasn’t until months later where his “concern” for you died down and he was in his “moving on” phase, that something switched inside of you. He was on a talk show and the conversation of you came up,

“Yeah…what a shame about Y/N. Once a bright star now a mentally disturbed soul. Oh well, that sucks for her. You can’t help anyone who doesn’t want it. I tried giving her a taste of the high life but obviously some people aren’t destined for greatness like me. Hopefully she’ll make a living off of all the crack though.”

Oh…that dirty bastard. So cocky and self righteous. The only reason why you’re in this predicament is because of him and his trifling actions towards you. From the hours he’d yell and lock you in his room, to the obsessive stalking and threats are all now reduced down to what???…you being some kind of druggie?!

Your fire was back!!

You’ve been silent, trying to let this all blow over so you could finally have some peace again but hell no. You’ve given up everything while he gets to sit all high and mighty like he’s some angel.

He wants to mock you, and make you into some sort of laughing stock?? Give it back to him…harder

Compiling all the letters, texts, emails and voicemails…you’ve decided to come back into the spotlight. And what better way to have a new single that literally is written by the abuser’s incriminating evidence.

The media is excited and eating everything all up …

And for Johnny? Oh that man is lividddd. Oh he’s so freaking pissed. Just listening to a minute of the song he knows exactly what stupid little stunt you pulled.

How dare you put him expose like that and turn the media on him.

You wanna be a cunt…fine…this isn’t over, Y/N.

[dollsbakery]

hello, hope ur doin well

i saw some of ya stuff and liked it, and wanted to request a bakugo x reader w like a size kink ig

(idk specifics mb)

thank you

‘ Sweetheart ’ - Dilf!Bakugou x Reader

TW: NOT PROOF READ, Size Kink, Age Difference, Dilf!Bakugou, Manipulation, Exploiting, Slight Noncon, Creampie, Pinning, Penetration, Overstimulation, Cheating, Slight Daddy Kink, Degradation, Manhandling, Praise, Pet Names, Stomach Bulge

“No! I don’t know why you can’t see how wrong it is. Do you know how embarrassing it is for me when I have to tell my friends my girlfriend babysits a Pro Hero’s kid? You spend most of your time at fucking BaKuGo’S hOuSe! Fuck Y/N! It- It’s fucking wrong! I bet you’re fucking him, HAHA! I BET YOU ARE, AREN’T YOU!?”

You roll your eyes, humming along as your insecure boyfriend once again accuses you of fucking another man. Fuck, you may as well be a Porn star by the amount of men he claims you fuck. Besides, your job is not like that! Five days a week you go over to Mr Bakugou’s house, say a simple ‘Good Morning!’, see him off, and babysit his child all day. Sweet little Clem. She’s an adorable little doll, a kind five year old girl, who admires her Daddy very much. Now, you have to admit, Mr Bakugou is a very, handsome man, to say the least. You always shiver when you notice your eyes linger at his… massive arms, for a little too long. The way sweat drips down his husky chest when he gets home from work. The way said sweat makes his shirt cling to his defined abs.

“Y/N! ARE YOU EVEN FUCKING LISTENING? YOU’RE A FUCKING SLU-“

You end the call.

Fuck.

You promised yourself you’d stop thinking about Mr Bakugou like that. For fuck sake, he’s like double your age! Even so, that doesn’t change how fucking fine that hunk of a man is. You sigh, rolling over in your bed as you look at your phone once more.

‘23:47’ It read.

You should probably get some sleep. With a heavy groan, you reluctantly set your alarm on your phone and turn to lie on your back.

Tapping your fingers in a random rhythm on your stomach, you devilishly bite your lip, slightly grinning through it. Your alarm will go off in seven hours, so theoretically… you have enough time for a quick stress relief session with that new Dynamite toy you just bought…

Pulling up to the luxurious and modern house, you step out your car and lock it with a smile.

‘I can’t wait to see Clem today, I’m sure she’ll love that new recipe I found’ you mumble to yourself. Ringing the doorbell, you stiffen up your posture and put on your most welcoming face. The door swings open to reveal a disheveled man.

Mr Bakugou’s still dressed in his sleepwear? His blonde fluffy hair is more a bundle of mess than it normally is. His black sleeveless tee hangs low on his chest, revealing his swell chest, and fucking bulky biceps. Fuck… he looks so good. He also looks… sweaty?

Seeing Mr Bakugou looking so dazed, sweaty, and unshaved for once (You’ve always loved his stubble) was almost too much.

“Good morning Sir, where’s Clementine?”

He bashfully rubs the back of his head, as he leans against his front door, looking down at you. Was he always this tall? You don’t remember ever having to look up at him.

“Fuck, I forgot to tell you. Clem’s spending the week at her Mom’s. That stupid woman decided she’s finally interested in our daughter.” He grumbled.

You pout slightly, you were really looking forward to spending time with Clem today.

“Oh no worries! Uhm, are you okay though? You seem a bit flustered..” the small question filled with genuine concern was enough to earn another grumble from Mr Bakugou.

“I’m fine sweet cheeks, no need to start doting over me.” He chuckles.

His morning voice is so fuckin raspy and deep. Fuck-

“Come in, the least I can do is make you some breakfast for making you get up so early.”

With a gentle smile, you enter the man’s home and make your way to the kitchen. Placing yourself on a stool at his beautiful island, you rest your cheeks on your hands and softly nibble on the inside of your cheek. Bakugou makes his way round to the other side of the kitchen and begins pulling ingredients out. Whilst cracking an egg on the rim of a bowl, Mr Bakugou looks up through his eyebrows towards you. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes linger on his hands.

‘His hands are huge compared to that bowl holy shit. He’s like a fuckin’ giant’

Your mind begins to talk and talk, as your eyes stare deeper and deeper at his veiny hands.

“Oi.”

Mr Bakugou breaks the silence.

“What’s up with you, hah?” He grins.

Fuck, did he catch you ogling him?

“Oh, uhm. Sorry. I’m a bit out of it today.. me and my boyfriend had an argument last night.”

Good save. If you could pat yourself on the back right now, you definitely would’ve. Mr Bakugou’s face turns sour, a scoff leaving his mouth. He makes his way round the island and stands behind you. Compared to you he really is a giant. His chest completely conceals you from whatever behind you. Slowly, he leans down, his hand making its way to your thigh, his mouth next to your ear.

“Y’know, I could treat you much better than your childish little boyfriend. Hm? I mean, could your little boyfriend do this?”

Before you could even think of a reply, he spins you round on the stool and lifts you onto his shoulder with a single arm. He chuckles at the squeal you let out, as your fists pound against his back.

“PUT ME DOWN! B-BAKUGOU!”

Using his free hand, he lays a single, harsh slap on your ass, instantly causing you to go limp in his hold.

“That’s Sir to you. Don’t you want a big, strong man to take care of you? Think about it sweetheart, you’d never have to lift a finger, anything you want you’d get. New dress? I’ll take you shopping. Your car broke down? I’ll fuckin’ buy you a whole dealership. Imagine it Princess, you could leave your immature, insecure, weak little boy toy, and be taken care of by a strong, rich man.”

Wiggling in his grip, your ass sways slightly, giving Bakugou a beautiful view as he tilts his head to the side to watch your futile struggles.

“I’ve seen how you look at me Princess. You think you’re slick? Hah, you may as well of just fingered your self in my bed and wait for me to get home and see you like that. You’ve done that before though, haven’t you? Bit of a dumb little slut sometimes hm? Forgot to change my sheets. Or did you leave that puddle there for me to find? I bet you did. Wanna be a little whore for Daddy? Yeah you do”

Two thick fingers begin rubbing your pussy through your leggings, causing you to grip onto the back of your bosses shirt.

“S-Sir! I- fuck~”

You whine, pushing your bottom half closer towards your bosses fingers.

Bakugou began rubbing faster, nudging your clit every so often. With each whine and moan you let out, the deeper his shit eating grin becomes.

“S-Bakugou! Please! I need to- I need to cum!” You cry, tears welling from your eyes.

“Cmon’ pretty girl. Cum for Daddy!”

His praise sends a shockwave through your pussy, as you dig your fingers into his lower back and cum through your panties and leggings.

“Atta’ girl, good~ slut.” He hums, as he carries you through his house and into his bedroom.

Gently, he places you down on his bed and begins stripping you down. Every time his hand went near your pussy, you whined from lack of attention, silently begging for more. Bakugou reaches under his bed and pulls out some red rope.

“Bakugou..?” You mutter.

He grins as he uses one hand to pin your arms above your head, and the other to skilfully wrap the rope around your wrists, binding them together. Instinctively, your earlier struggles return, as you begin to thrash around.

His hand slams down on your throat, pinning you down to the bed firmly with one movement.

“If you struggle one more time, I’ll beat your ass black and blue, understand?”

…

“Yes Sir.”

Bakugou hums in acknowledgment, as he reaches under his bed again and pulls out a vibrator.

“Please~” You sob. Bakugou grins.

“Please what? Use your words baby.”

“I want you! I want your dick not some stupid plastic vibrator!” You whine.

“You need to earn my dick. You’ll cum from this ‘stupid plastic’ toy as many times as i want, then you’ll have my fucking dick. Sluts don’t make orders, they listen and obey, yeah?”

You bite back another sob.

“Yes Sir…”

Flicking the vibrator on, he pushes it right up against your clit, causing you to instantly throw your head back.

“Please~ not there! Not- FUCK- NOT THAT QUICK! T-TURN IT DOWN!” You plead, your back arching to attempt and relieve your pussy from the torturing pleasure.

With a heavy growl, Bakugou places on hand on your stomach and pushes down, keeping you stiffly planted in place.

“Fuck, look at that. My hands big enough it almost covers the entirety of your stomach!”

You look down and notice he’s right, and for some reason, this sends you over the edge. Your toes curl and your legs convulse as you cum for the second time in under 15 minutes.

“KATSUKI!”

He turns the vibrator onto full blast and he feels his cock beginning to strain against his boxers.

“Mhmh, one more time baby, cmon’ I know you can do it.”

Pressing the vibrator slightly harder against your clit, once again sending you over the edge.

“Good~ girl. What a good slut for Daddy, hm?”

Letting go of your stomach and tossing the vibrator to the side, Bakugou quickly slides his boxers off and pulls his top over his head. Somehow he looks even fucking bigger now, and you fucking love it.

Looking up at his through your tears, you whine once more.

“You’re a whiny little bitch aren’t you? What’re you crying about now huh?”

“S-Sir… I don’t know if I can cum again” You mumble through your fucked out state.

Bakugou grabs either sides of your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed, nudging your pussy with his cock. Just by that small contact, you know he’s fucking massive down there. It should be expected though..

“If I say you’re gonna take my cock. You’re gonna fucking take my cock.”

Bakugou bites his lip as he slips his cock inside you, watching intently as your face contorts from tiredness, to pure bliss. His eyes trail down to your pussy as he watches his dick disappear inside of you.

“Fuckkk~” He moans, as he looks up at her stomach and almost cums right there and then. Letting out an also animalistic growl, Bakugou rubs his hand over your stomach and stares at the stomach bulge. Leaning forward and using one hand to grab your hair and force your head to look down at your stomach, he screams.

“Look. LOOK! Can you see that? That’s me inside of you Princess. Yeah~ you’re right where you belong, below me. Holy shit-“

Slowly, he puts his hand back on your waist and begins pumping in and out of you, picking up speed the more you moan.

“FUCk! You take me so well Princess! I’m gonna mould your pussy so only I can pleasure you. Yeah? You’d like that? Course’ you would you fucking slut.”

With each word Bakugou thrusts harder and harder, indulging in the way you throw your head back and cry his name out.

“Please~ PLEASE.. KA- KATSUKI PLEASE LET ME CUM!”

“Mhmh, cum. Cum for me beautiful.” Bakugou whines, throwing his own head back as you both cum together.

Panting, he pulls out of you, licking his lips at the sight of his cum leaking out of your pussy. Sighing with pleasure, he picks you up and places you under the sheets on his bed, climbing in beside you and rubbing the side of your face.

“You were so good for me.” He mumbles.

“So… are we, a thing? You don’t care about my age?” You look up at him, fear in your eyes.

He holds back a smile and kisses the tip of your nose.

“No sweetheart, I don’t care. You’re mine now, besides, Clementine already loves you.” Bakugou chuckles.

…

Thank you for the request! This was my first time using a Size Kink prompt so I hope I did it some justice at least 😭.

I hope it met your expectations!

P.S. I’ll be filling out my other requests very soon :)

[eiightysixbaby]

i’ll be home for christmas

PART FOUR: Merry Christmas, Darling

previous chapter || series masterlist

word count: 7.4k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie’s return sends you through emotional turmoil. can things go back to the way they were?

cw: angst, there’s a lotttt of feelings in this chapter whew what a ride, mentions of alcohol consumption, brief mention of reader’s parents - they aren’t described it’s just mentioned that we go to see them, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’

author’s note: the final part is here!! thank you all soooo much for coming on this little journey with me. i’ve had so much fun writing this fic, and i appreciate every kind comment i’ve received. keep your eyes peeled in the coming weeks, there’s an extra something i’m working on for this universe :)

Present Day: Christmas Eve, 1989.

Eddie. You’re staring at Eddie, that much you know. He’s standing right in front of you, yet it all feels hazy. There’s a ringing in your ears that won’t stop, a sickness in your gut that won’t ease. You say nothing as you step aside to let Dustin and the rest of the kids rush to the door to greet the man before you.

He looks at you, desperately, before being swarmed by everyone else.

“Eddie! Holy shit!!” Dustin yells, throwing his full weight at the man and barely giving him time to get his bearings.

“What are you doing here!?” Lucas asks, pushing Dustin out of the way to get his own hug.

“Slow down, you gremlins,” Eddie laughs. Oh, god, his laugh. It makes your stomach churn. What was once music to your ears is now an unfamiliar sound. You’d know his laugh anywhere. But you don’t feel like you know him anymore. “How’s everyone doing? I missed you fuckers,” he says, ruffling Max’s hair.

“We missed you,” she says, rolling her eyes as if she can’t be bothered. Eddie knows it’s just an act.

You move out of the doorway, feeling like you’re in a daze as you walk back to the living room.

“Did you guys know about this?” you ask Nancy, Robin, and Steve once they turn expectantly to catch your reaction to the whole surprise.

“Yeah, he got in a few days ago. We wanted it to be a surprise,” Robin says, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to cover a smile.

“Right,” you say, not matching her excitement as you sit down in an empty chair. It explains why the girls were acting so weird during your baking session. It explains why you made the stupid raspberry cookies.

You can feel Jonathan’s eyes boring into you, watching your every move. You don’t look at him, knowing you’ll break if you see the concerned expression you know will be on his face. Nancy’s about to say something when Eddie and the teens come swarming in, Dustin already blabbering his ear off. You go stiff in your seat, not meeting those gorgeous brown eyes and instead keeping your face trained on the floor.

Jonathan stands, moving to greet Eddie as he’s the only one who hasn’t yet. “What’s up, man? You back for good?” he asks.

“Yeah. Yeah I think I am,” he says. “It’s good to see you.” You know everyone’s eyes are on you, including his. You know they’re waiting for you to say something. Your silence is ear-splitting, and it feels like a bomb is about to go off.

Everyone moves to surround Eddie, except you, but you can’t blame them. They ask him for all of the details about Chicago, his reasons for moving back, anything and everything. You catch him looking around their faces, trying to get you to look at him, but you avoid his eyes every time. You thought this was what you wanted. You thought seeing him would fix everything.

But it didn’t.

If anything, your heart feels even more shattered. He thinks he can just come home, show up at this party without warning and you’re just going to fall into his arms? Confess your love for him? Act like nothing has happened?

He’s too nonchalant, the way he talks to the group. The way he sits casually on Steve’s sofa, the way he grabs cookies and a drink to indulge in.

A part of you wants to be upset with your friends for hiding this from you, for giving you no warning, but the other part of you knows they were just trying to make you happy. This was supposed to make you happy. You’re unhappy without Eddie, and now he’s here and you’re still unhappy. What is wrong with you?

It’s too much, your head feeling like it’s going to cave in as you listen to the chatter around you. Eddie’s voice is grating in your ears, and you can’t bear to look at his face — you know you’ll just burst into tears. He’s in the middle of telling a story about his attempts to land a recording gig when you stand from your seat, stopping him mid-sentence.

Without a word, you walk quickly to Steve’s back door, letting yourself out to the backyard. You can hear Jonathan call after you, but you don’t want to be bothered. The cold air hits you harder without your coat on, and you wrap your arms around yourself to keep as warm as possible. Steve’s covered pool is coated with a layer of ice and snow, and the lights from inside make the snow sparkle. Inhaling deeply, the icy air burns your lungs, but at least you’re feeling something definite. Your emotions are all over the place, none of them clear or easy to work through.

Maybe you should just go home. Just slink off to your car and go, because you certainly can’t be here with him. As if on cue, sent by some fucked up force in the universe that loves to put you through the wringer, the door slides open.

You hear shoes crunch on the snowy ground, bulky steps that can only come from heavy boots. A deep breath is taken but it’s not enough, you feel like you can’t get any air when he’s taking it all from you. Standing still, you stare straight ahead, your back facing who you know is right behind you. You can’t bear to turn around, to be the one to face him first.

“Sunny,” is all he says. His voice is soft, but it raises every hair on your neck. You’re back to a year ago, to that horrible place he took you to and locked you away in.

You steel yourself, preparing for the floor to fall out beneath you and trying your damndest to be ready for it.

“Please, look at me.”

Turning, slowly, your eyes lock with his. He looks the same as he did the last time you saw him, except now his face fills your mouth with a sour taste. You don’t like this feeling.

“I missed you,” he says, quietly.

His hands are tucked in the front pocket of his jeans, his face barely visible in the dark. He looks at you almost expectantly, like you’re supposed to do something here. Like this isn’t insane.

“I can’t do this, Eddie,” you say, barely above a whisper. Your voice is failing you.

He hears you anyway, his ears so attuned to anything and everything you have to say. You don’t look the same, the usual fire behind your eyes is gone. It worries him.

“Please, just… I came back for you. I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

“Please don’t. Don’t do that, Eddie,” you warn, tears burning at your eyes.

“Do what? Be honest with you? I’m sorry Sunny. I’m so sorry. But it’s the truth. I’ve never stopped missing you,” he presses. His tone isn’t harsh, but passionate. You know he’s being honest, and it makes you want to throw up.

“So, what? You’re just going to walk in here and act like everything is normal? Like this isn’t fucking weird?” you ask, getting progressively louder as you go. He’s standing not even a foot away, silent. What can he say?

“You’ve been gone for a year, Eddie. You left me, you barely gave me a warning!” you hiss, stepping further away from him. Retreating into yourself, protecting yourself.

He takes a step toward you, chancing it. Reaching a hand out as if to grab you and comfort you. You don’t let him, slinking out of his touch.

“Sunny, please. Can we talk about this?” he asks, his voice desperate as he pleads with you.

“You didn’t want to talk it over when you made the decision to leave,” you spit. “So maybe I don’t want to talk things over now. I’m sorry you thought I’d just fall right into your arms again, but it’s not happening, Eddie. This? Whatever it is we had? It’s done, it’s gone. You can thank yourself.” You brush past him, slamming the door shut behind you once you’ve entered the house again. Anger and hurt blaze through your veins in a deadly concoction, your vision blurry with the hot tears that sting in your eyes.

Eddie follows after you, hot on your trail, emotion-strained voice calling out from behind. “Sunny. Sunny!”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, simply putting your coat on and grabbing your purse. “I’m leaving. I’m sorry, everyone,” you say curtly, and then you’re heading towards the front door, stepping outside into the cold night with nothing more than the slam of the wood.

Eddie stands in the living room, forlorn as everyone just looks around, unsure of what to do. Of all the ways this reunion could have gone, they certainly didn’t expect this. They thought it would make you happy, not make everything worse.

“I have to go get her—” he starts, frantic as he pats down his pockets for his car keys.

“Eddie, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Robin says warily, standing from her seat on the couch.

“I let her go once!” Eddie yells, a painful twinge to his tone. “I can’t let it happen again.”

He looks like a kicked puppy, scared where he stands in the middle of Steve’s home. The looks everyone gives him are pitying, and it makes him scoff as he starts to pace, running his hands through his hair.

“You need to give her space, man,” Jonathan adds, trying to calm him down. “If you bombard her right now, it’ll only make her more upset.”

Eddie looks at him, saying nothing. His eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill but he doesn’t want to let them. The impulsive part of him wants to tell Jonathan to fuck off — he used to know you like that. He used to be the person that knew everything about you, and now Jonathan has taken his place. Even if only platonically. He bites his tongue, reminding himself of the unfortunate truth that it’s his own fault you aren’t close anymore.

“I— I just need some air,” Eddie settles on, turning around and going back out to the backyard.

He isn’t out there for long before he hears someone else join him. Turning, he’s a little surprised to see Jonathan. He’d expected Steve, maybe Dustin.

“Hey,” Eddie says, his hands in his pockets as he stares out across the yard.

“Hey,” Jonathan replies, taking slow steps closer to him. “Listen, Eddie,” he starts after a pause. “You put her through a lot this last year,” he says. Eddie can tell by his tone he’s not trying to be unkind or sour, but it still hurts. It’s hard to admit that he was so incredibly wrong, and that his actions are having major consequences. He never wanted to hurt you this badly. Everything had spun out of control, and he’s to blame.

“I know, man. I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry about it.”

Jonathan just looks at him, watching him carefully. There’s a brief silence, before Eddie takes a deep breath and a little leap of faith.

“Can you talk to her for me?”

He looks at the man beside him, breath hitched in his throat, nervous.

“Eddie—”

“Please, man. She… she trusts you. In a way that she doesn’t trust me anymore. And I know that that’s my fault, but…” he takes a shaky breath, furiously swiping at his wet eyes with his thumb. “I want to earn her trust back. I want her back.”

Jonathan thinks this over, running his tongue over his teeth behind his top lip as if collecting the taste Eddie’s words leave in his mouth. Meeting Eddie’s eyes, his gaze softens when he sees the pain sitting on his face.

“Okay. I’ll try to talk to her,” Jonathan says finally, and Eddie lets out a relieved breath. “But. I’m not promising anything. If she wants to cut ties with you, that’s her business, and I can’t force her to do anything. You screwed up last year, Ed. I’m not trying to rub salt in your wounds, I just need you to understand why this is so hard for her.”

Eddie almost wants to laugh. Jonathan has a way of saying harsh things — of giving you the truth — yet not making you feel like complete shit while he does it. Eddie knows that he cares, he just cares on a level that not everyone does.

“I know. Trust me, I know that,” he sighs, blowing out a puff of air as he looks up to the dark sky. “I know you can’t force her, and I don’t want that. I just… I want her to know how sorry I am. If nothing else, I want her to know that she’s the most important person I’ve ever met and that I’m a moron for what I did last year.”

Jonathan does laugh at this, and then Eddie starts laughing with him. And it feels good, if even for a fleeting moment.

“I’ll talk to her, okay? I’m glad to have you back, man,” the younger man says, giving Eddie a soft fist to the shoulder. There’s a smile on his face, just enough for Eddie to notice.

He smiles back. Jonathan doesn’t need words to hear the ‘thank you’ that lies behind it.

•

You don’t feel any better after your outburst towards Eddie. You wanted to be with your friends tonight, not sitting alone at your apartment. But you’d left on impulse and now… here you are. Sitting alone on your floor because it felt right to sit on the floor and now you’re spiraling.

You don’t know what to think, or what to feel. You’d been sad for months over Eddie’s absence and now he’s here and you go and have a meltdown. Frustration boils inside of you, your heart twisting in your chest. Being angry at Eddie doesn’t feel any better than missing him had, it’s not like being mad allows you to just forget him.

Before you can think yourself into oblivion, your phone rings. Groaning, you stand to retrieve it. Your heart pounds in your chest — what if it’s him?

Steadying your breathing, you let it ring a few times before you convince yourself to answer.

“Hello?” you mumble, not quite ready to find out whose voice will come out on the other end.

“Sunny. It’s me,” Jonathan’s voice comes through the receiver, relaxing every muscle in your body. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Honestly, Jon? I have no fucking idea,” you say, with a slight laugh at the end. There’s no humor in it, though, you simply feel like you’re going mad.

“Can I come over?”

“Jonathan, no, stay at the party—”

“Sunny. Can I come over?” he tries again, not wanting you to put him first in this situation. He wants to be there for you.

“Okay. Yeah, fine. Door’s unlocked, just come in when you get here.”

Clicking the phone back into its place, you pace the floor slightly, chewing your nail.

Did Eddie really come back for you? Is this all for you?

Your heart aches at the thought of it. You just don’t understand how he expected everything to be just fine the second you saw him, and all you can picture in your mind is the look on his stupid fucking face the second you opened Steve’s door.

He looked at you like you hung the moon. He looked at you like you were everything.

You think about last year, you think about the kiss. The way his lips felt so soft against yours, like they were made to be there. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing at them with a frustrated sigh. Taking a seat on the couch, you await Jonathan’s arrival.

The door opens quietly before his figure slips through the gap, his cheeks rosy from the cold. You’re curled in one corner of the sofa, and you must look pitiful because his eyes soften the second they land on you.

“Sunny…” he says, hanging his coat on your coat rack before instantly coming to sit by you.

“What the fuck is happening, Jonathan?” you croak, moving to lean against him. “I thought this was what I wanted. I wanted him to come home I… I still miss him…”

“I think he just surprised you. You’re feeling a lot of things at once, and that’s okay. Every single emotion is valid,” he says softly, rubbing your back with a gentle hand.

“I’m just so mad that he walked in like it was nothing. He sat down and talked with everyone like there wasn’t a giant elephant in the room to address,” you say, that anger still lingering in your voice. “But I’m not proud that I walked out on him. I didn’t let him talk, or anything. I told him we’re done,” you sniff, letting tears drip down your face. “I don’t know if I really meant that.”

“Do you think he’s just gonna give up on you? I promise you he’s not, Sunny. He was ready to chase after you the second you left.”

You think this over, a pang in your heart making you cry more. A small part of you wanted him to chase you, although you wouldn’t admit it in your anger.

“He’s really sorry, Sunny,” Jonathan sighs, squeezing you closer to him. “I’ve never seen him this beat up over anything. He’s devastated. You have a right to be devastated, too. I just want you to know that he knows he screwed up.”

“Did he tell you to tell me this?”

Jonathan pauses, takes a breath. “He asked if I would talk to you, yeah. But I had every intention of coming over here, anyway. I think you need someone to talk it out with, that isn’t him.”

“Is that all he said?”

“He said he’s a moron for what he did,” Jonathan adds, smiling when he gets a watery laugh from you.

“He is a fucking moron,” you admit, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“And he said that you’re the most important person he’s ever met. There’s no doubt in my mind that he means that. He really adores you, Sunny.”

“I feel the same about him,” you say, lip wobbling. It’s true. You’ve never met anyone else who’s impacted you quite the same as he has. He’s everything. That’s why this is all so earth-shattering.

“So what are you gonna do?” Jonathan asks, waiting a beat. “You don’t have to decide now. I’m not here to change your mind or tell you how to feel. You don’t have to talk to him anymore if you really don’t want to. But I saw how happy you were with him last year, Sunny. I want you to be that happy again.”

“I need to think things over,” you say meekly, letting out a sigh. “Can we just watch a movie?” you ask, looking up at your friend.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “We can watch a movie. Give yourself all the time you need to think.”

Present Day: Christmas Day, 1989.

The night had been a restless one. Tossing and turning beneath your heavy comforter, your mind racing with a million thoughts. A million things you want to say, a million things you should say, to him. He hurt you, and he can’t take that back, but you didn’t even hear a single thing he had to say. You didn’t hear him out, and that’s not how you’d typically behave around him. Maybe nothing involving him was “typical” anymore, but you couldn’t sleep restfully knowing you haven’t had a real conversation with him.

All you’d wanted, for 12 months, was for Eddie to be home, to apologize. You realize now that your anger has eased that you need to talk to him. Nothing will improve if you don’t speak to him. You know for a fact it would eat you alive every day if he was home in Hawkins, seeing your friends, and you had to avoid him. You have things you need to get off your chest, stuff you want to say, and as you laid awake blinking into the darkness, you’d decided you needed to go and see him.

Christmas morning arrives too bright and too early, your body curled beneath blankets as you rub your eyes and yawn. It feels like you fell asleep for maybe an hour or two, your mind still racing with thoughts that seemed to never stop. Immediately, you’re throwing the covers off and getting out of bed.

There’s still time to fix things. There’s still time to talk to him, to have a good Christmas. You deserve a good Christmas.

The shower water pours hot out of the faucet, steam filling your bathroom as you undress. You let the water coat your skin, making you feel more awake as you shampoo your hair and scrub your body. You feel like you can’t move fast enough, anxiety swirling in your stomach coupled with your eager need to see Eddie.

You get ready in record timing, hair done and outfit donned, teeth brushed and everything else in between. You bundle up for the weather, as one look out your window told you it was definitely a cold one, a hefty layer of snow coating the ground. You can feel yourself tremble as you get in your car and start it, nausea creeping back in as you worry the whole drive to Eddie’s.

Your boots crunch on the snow-covered dirt, your hand pushing your car door shut with a reluctant creak. It’s been so long since you’ve been here, at the trailer park, standing in front of this very trailer. It looks the same as you remember it, though it looks like Wayne got a new wreath for the door.

It’s early, god you know it’s so early, and you only hope you won’t be disturbing the sleep of the two men who inhabit the home. But this is important, you think to yourself. You have to do this.

Taking a deep breath, your hand trembles before you bring it to the door in a repetitive pattern, knocking firmly. There’s no answer for a moment, and you worry that maybe coming out here was a mistake. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you, after all. Maybe Jonathan was wrong, and you’d pissed him off, and he’s done with you.

Maybe it’s too late.

You’re about to resign, to get back in your car, when you hear footsteps on the inside of the door. It swings open in front of you, revealing Eddie’s sleepy face and his sleep-tousled hair.

“Sunny?” he asks, rubbing one eye with his hand. He reaches off to the side, yanking on a coat before coming to stand outside with you.

“Sorry, uh… Wayne’s still asleep otherwise I’d—”

“I miss you, Eddie,” you cut him off, making his eyes widen for a split second. “And I’m so fucking mad at you, but it turns out being mad at you doesn’t make me miss you any less.”

He blinks, looking down at you but not speaking, as if he’s too scared to say anything at all.

“You really fucked me up leaving last year, you know that?” you ask with an icy laugh, looking off to the side. “I missed you every single day you were gone. All I wanted this whole time was you. And now you’re here, and— and, you think you can just show up and everything will be fine. Everything’s not fine,” you ramble, voice cracking at the end of your speech.

You’d tried to ward off any tears, but they’re running warm down your cold cheeks before you can stop them. You wipe furiously at them with your fingers, trying to hide your emotions from the man in front of you. You hadn’t planned on getting this emotional, but then you suppose you can’t really fully plan for a conversation like this.

“Nothing— is fine, Eddie,” you croak. “I missed you so much,” you start to cry harder, collapsing against him as he readily accepts you into a sort of hug as you let it all pour out of you. He holds you against his chest, and how you missed being pressed close to him like this. Your chest aches with every single second of those 12 months without him that you can’t get back. “How could you do that to me?” you ask him, fist clutching the fabric of his coat, not wanting to let him go.

He squeezes you so tight, he doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t expect you to come here, especially not so soon.

“I’m so sorry, Sunny,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry. I’m the dumbest man alive for leaving you. I really am.”

“At least you know that,” you sniff, the tiniest laugh rumbling in your chest amidst your tears; reminding you of what Jonathan had told you the night before. That he’s a moron.

“I’ll let you tell me that every day for the rest of my life,” he says, brave enough to crack the smallest smile. “Just please don’t give up on me.” Gripping your shoulders, he coaxes you just far enough away so he can really look at you. “All I want is you, Sunny. Chicago… didn’t change my life. Not in the slightest. I thought I needed to get out of here but… I couldn’t have been more wrong. And I’m so sorry you had to be caught up in my dumb mistake,” he says earnestly. “It was never a problem with you. My feelings for you were always real. Are still real.”

You’re silent, taking a couple breaths before you speak. “I’m sorry Chicago didn’t work out. But the selfish part of me was hoping it wouldn’t…” you confess, looking down at your shoes.

“It’s okay. I learned my lesson, that’s for sure,” he scoffs a little, his expression downtrodden.

“This year was so hard, Eddie,” you tell him. “Nothing has been the same without you.” The pain in your voice feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart, and he so horribly wishes he could take everything back. But he can’t. All he can do is be better for you, now.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, his big chocolate eyes so apologetic. You missed his pet names, missed the way sweetheart rolls off of his tongue specially for you. “Please tell me you didn’t mean what you said… when you said that we’re done.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says that last part, not the entire time at least. His eyes dance nervously around, his voice wavering with anxiety. It makes tears spring to your eyes again, the thought of going on without him. Of spending every day for the rest of your life without him.

“I can’t do this without you, Eddie,” you say. “But you have to promise me you’re never going to pull something like that again. You’re never leaving again, unless it’s with me,” you steel yourself, not letting yourself get too emotional until he can make this promise. Until he can prove himself.

“Never. Never, I swear. I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t,” he breathes, moving closer to you. “Please let me make it all up to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life being the best I can be for you.”

His hands cup your face, warm against your frosty cheeks. He wipes a stray tear from your face with a gentle thumb, smiling so softly when you lean into his touch. All at once it hits you, your overwhelming affection for him that you’d had to shove down all year. It gnaws at your chest, clawing its way out of you triumphantly. He’s still the same man you knew then. He’s still the only person you want first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

“Eddie…” you sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed, your hands holding his forearms.

You can feel how close his face is to yours, his nose nearly ghosting over your own and his breath warming your skin. The broken pieces of you are being glued back together one by one the longer he stands holding you.

“I’ve thought about that kiss every single day for the last year, you know that?” he says softly, your eyes opening once more to look up at him.

“Me too,” you breathe. “I’d started to think that maybe it was a mistake,” you admit sadly, watching the way his expression changes. “But it was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

Both of you go quiet, eyes saying so much without words as you look at each other. He’s so close, his face right against yours as you stand in the freezing cold morning. He starts to shift even closer, and you feel like his lips are about to close the distance to yours when the trailer door swings open.

“Is that my little lady?” Wayne’s gruff voice calls out.

You and Eddie break apart abruptly, Eddie rather reluctantly letting you go as your head swings to look at his uncle.

“Wayne!” you beam, moving instantly to accept his hug. You glance back at Eddie, heart thumping in your chest as you watch him watching you.

This is how it should be. This is how you always want it to be.

“Get in here and out of the cold. I missed you, you know that?” the older man says to you, pulling you inside.

You have a lot of catching up to do. That second kiss will have to wait.

After a mug of hot cocoa and a lot of reminiscing with Wayne and Eddie, you find yourself alone with Eddie in his room. There’s a tiny bit of awkwardness in the atmosphere, both of you getting your footing together after so much time apart. It almost feels wrong to be in his bedroom, but then you remember you spent nearly every day here not so long ago.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess,” he smiles weakly. “Unpacking hasn’t exactly been my top priority.”

“Don’t apologize,” you insist, standing in the doorway as he kicks his messy suitcase to a corner of the room. “Was it ever clean before you moved?” you tease, more and more of that weight being lifted off your shoulders with each lighthearted comment, each joke and laugh and smile given and received.

“Sometimes!” he defends, immediately relenting. “Okay, no, it’s always a mess.”

“I really need to get going, Eddie. I need to see my parents at least for a little bit today,” you tell him, glancing at the clock.

“Will I see you back at Steve’s later?” he asks.

“I was hoping I could hitch a ride with you,” you say shyly.

He beams, pearly white teeth shining at you. He could light the entire city with that smile.

“Of course you can. I’ll pick you up, say around six?”

“Six is perfect,” you smile, moving toward him to give his arm a squeeze. “I really fucking missed you.”

He exhales, taking both of your hands in his. “I missed you more than I can even say. I hope you believe me. If I could take this whole year back, start over, I would.”

You don’t reply, just nod at him with empathetic eyes. You know he means it. You do believe him.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” he says. “Be safe getting to your parents, alright?”

You nod again, smiling at him before you put your coat back on, saying goodbye to Wayne and walking out into the cold.

•

Opening gifts with your parents was a good reprieve from the emotional whirlwind of a morning that you’d had, simply sharing in their joy and having lighthearted conversation. It felt good to feel good, that was for certain.

To have a happy Christmas, a happy day, finally. There was still much to be discussed with Eddie, but you felt at ease now that you’d finally poured your heart out to him. You can’t really stay angry with him, because your heart knows he never meant to cause you so much pain.

Six o’clock rolls around surprisingly quickly, a knock sounding at your door as you give yourself a once over in your mirror. Smoothing down your velvet skirt for a final time, you turn to leave your room. As you’re about to flip off the light, though, your jewelry box catches your eye.

You walk over to your dresser where it sits on the top, opening the lid. Eddie’s necklace sits with its broken chain on top of the other miscellaneous jewelry, the initialed pendant gleaming right at you. There’s another knock on your door, and you hurriedly rummage through the clutter to find a spare chain, one that hadn’t been ripped in half.

You let the pendant fall from the old chain, slipping it onto the new one as you walk quickly to the door.

Swinging it open, Eddie’s sweet face greets you on the other side. The things you would’ve given to see him greeting you all those torturous months when he was gone. And now he’s here. He looks gorgeous; wearing what might be his only pair of black jeans that aren’t ripped, along with a deep green flannel that slightly pokes out beneath a dark gray sweater. You want to devour him, you realize. But that will have to wait — the time will come eventually.

“Oh, thank god. I was starting to think you weren’t gonna answer,” he jokes, playing off the comment with a slight laugh. You can see in his face that a small part of him really was concerned you’d bail.

“Sorry, I was looking for something,” you say, stepping aside to let him in.

“Oh? Did you find whatever it was?”

“Mhm. Would you mind putting it on me?” you ask, holding out the necklace to him.

He looks at it, his eyes softening when he recognizes the pendant.

“You still have this,” he muses, surprise evident in his tone. Like he thought you’d get rid of it. You truthfully never could have.

“It’s important to me,” you tell him, glancing up at him through your lashes. “I… broke the original chain. One night when I took it off. I-I’m not proud of it and I’m sorry. Because this gift is so important to me. It was the only piece I had of you,” you admit, pouring your truth and your heart into his open hands.

“Sunny, you don’t have to apologize. You still have it, I’m so glad you do.”

He smiles, a warm and wonderful thing, before he motions for you to turn around. He drapes the pendant over your head, letting it rest on your chest while he fidgets with the clasp at the back. You nearly want to cry as he puts it on you; you didn’t get the chance for him to do this when he’d gifted it to you. You’d put it on alone, in painful tears, wishing it would bring him back.

“Okay, I think it’s good,” Eddie murmurs, his gaze soft when you turn back around to face him.

“What do you think?” you ask, biting on your lip.

“It’s a beautiful necklace for an even more beautiful person,” he says, calm and collected, his words steady and meaningful. “I’m just sorry it took me this long to see you wearing it.”

You feel your cheeks flush, smiling as you pull your coat on and grab hold of the bottle of wine you’d bought to bring to Steve’s.

“Ready?” you ask, shy beneath the way he stares at you; like he never wants to look at anything but you.

“You know it,” he says, jingling his car keys before opening the door for you.

Your foot taps nervously on the floor of the car the whole ride to Steve’s home, butterflies twirling in your stomach at the thought of your arrival with Eddie. After your outburst yesterday, you were admittedly a little embarrassed, and now to show up with the man you’d just walked out on… well, what a roller coaster. Tension hangs thick between the two of you, the mutual acknowledgment of what maybe almost happened earlier before Wayne had interrupted blinking like a neon sign. He had definitely almost kissed you, and the thought makes your stomach swirl.

Neither of you really talk much, not knowing what to say. Sitting in silence and enjoying the company of the other feels like enough, for now. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you look at the pretty decorated houses that you pass, heart soaring with the knowledge that you have Eddie back, and with it comes the holiday cheer you’d been missing.

Before long the clunky van is pulling into Steve’s driveway, parking behind Nancy’s car. Eddie kills the engine, telling you to stay put so he can jog around to your side and get the door for you. He extends a hand, helping you down into the slippery concrete as you clutch the wine bottle tight in your other hand.

“Why thank you,” you giggle, not missing the way his cheeks grow pink.

“Anything for you, m’lady,” he salutes, reaching in behind you to grab your purse for you.

You take a deep breath as you start to walk up to the front door, arm tangled with Eddie’s so you don’t slip and in the slushy mess. You can sense his nerves, too, as he knocks on the door. You glance to the side, smiling at him and watching him return the gesture.

Steve opens the door, wearing reindeer antlers and a red Christmas sweater. He stops in his tracks when he sees both of you, a smug grin spreading on his lips.

“Well, would you look at that?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I missed seeing you two attached at the hip,” he jokes, stepping aside to let you both in.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, squeezing the other man’s shoulder. What you don’t see is the way Steve gives him a celebratory fist bump, mouthing a silent “yes!”.

Heads turn the second you and Eddie are inside, and you watch as Nancy and Robin beam at the sight. Jonathan gives you both a pointed but subtle thumbs up, and his smile says it all.

“Look at you two!” Robin exclaims, and you unravel your arm from Eddie’s to give her a hug.

“Okay, guys, we’re the spectacle of the evening, we get it,” Eddie laughs, giving her a hug after you.

“I won’t lie, I missed seeing you two arriving places together. You used to basically be conjoined,” Nancy jokes, taking the wine from you. She moves swiftly into the kitchen, getting out a few glasses to pour some. She hands you a glass, along with one for herself and Robin.

“Wait, hey, let me catch up!” Eddie says, grabbing a beer for himself from the fridge.

Steve and Jonathan gather around with their drinks, too, everyone raising their glasses and bottles high.

“Cheers, to Sunny and Eddie,” Nancy says, smiling brightly as everyone clinks their drinks together before taking a sip. Her toast makes you flustered, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

The wine goes down easy, warming your stomach with a pleasant tingle. This is how things should be. The hole in your friend group filled by the person you’d all been missing. The energy in the room is brighter, better. Eddie is needed here, not only by you.

Robin puts on one of Steve’s many Christmas records, letting the music fill the room along with your blended voices chattering happily. You’re talking with the girls, filling them in on what happened since last night. Your eyes keep wandering to wherever Eddie is, noticing him standing in the sun room with Steve. They’re talking about something you can’t hear, looking out the window into the snow covered backyard. You start to walk towards him, telling the girls you’ll be back in a bit, but stop at Jonathan first where he sits on the couch.

“Thank you. For helping me sort through my feelings,” you tell him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I hardly did anything. You made this choice yourself,” he says, squeezing your hand right back. “I’m so happy for you, Sunny. It’s good to see you happy.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” you ask him, giving him one last grateful look before walking away.

“Gentlemen,” you say, announcing yourself as you step into the other room with the two men. You hope you aren’t interrupting anything too important, but staying away from Eddie is the last thing you want right now.

“There she is,” Steve says, pulling you into his side. You laugh, reaching a hand up to mess up his hair.

“Hey, hey— watch the antlers!” he defends, slipping out of reach.

“Do you mind if I have a minute alone with him?” you ask Steve, motioning to Eddie with your thumb.

“No, no. Of course not. Behave yourselves,” he winks, slipping out as he takes a sip of his beer.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, moving in on you, wrapping an arm tentatively around your waist. His expression eases up when you relax into his touch, smiling blissfully up at him.

“I just thought we should pick up where we left off earlier…” you say, poking his chest softly with a finger and letting it trail down.

“Oh? And where exactly did we leave off?” he smirks, pressing his body closer to yours.

“I think… that you were about to kiss me again,” you murmur, hooded eyes looking up into his.

“Interesting theory,” Eddie jokes, placing a hand to his chin as if pondering this. You slap him lightly on the arm, giggling like a schoolgirl at him. “You might be right about that, sweetness,” he admits, dropping his face down closer to yours.

Your noses brush, the smell of his cologne and shampoo overwhelming your senses. He still uses the same stuff he did a year ago, turns out.

Your eyes focus in on his soft lips, the way his tongue darts out to wet them slightly. And then you let your eyelids flutter closed, feeling his other arm wrap around you, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips press to yours, so soft and hesitant at first, before gaining more confidence. You hold the back of his neck with one hand, fingers tangling in his curls, taking in his warmth and softness. Your mouths move together perfectly, two pieces of a puzzle finally brought together. The same fireworks you felt that first time go off again, yet this time they somehow feel even brighter. You’d waited so long for this, wondered if you would ever get this, and now it’s happening.

His tongue prods gently into your mouth, ever so slightly dancing around yours. His lips are so plush and gentle, and he smiles into the kiss with a soft little laugh. Pulling away, he rests his forehead to yours.

“You can tell me I’m crazy for this if you want to, okay? If it’s too soon, I get it. But I have to know if you’ll be mine,” he says, eyes darting back and forth between each of your own.

“Eddie,” you breathe, smiling wider than you have all night. “I’m all yours. I’ll be yours forever,” you promise, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him into one more passionate kiss.

“Okay, lovebirds!” Robin calls from the living room. You both turn your heads to see everyone watching you, and your cheeks flush.

“Didn’t know we had an audience,” Eddie says softly, only for you to hear, making you laugh again.

“Are you guys coming out to make a snowman with us, or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips as he waits.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right there!” Eddie calls back. “We’re just making up for lost time,” he adds, winking at you before planting a wet, sloppy kiss to your cheek.

You feel whole in this moment, with Eddie’s arm around your waist. What you thought would be a horrible Christmas turned out to be the brightest one, and having Eddie home is the best gift you could’ve asked for; even if it was a rocky start. He’s yours, and you’re his. This is the way it should always be, you’re undoubtedly certain of that now.

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says. “Forever starts right now.”

taglist: @hellfirenacht @writethrough @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @likedovesinthewnd @tlclick73 @mrsjellymunson @idkitsem @svbrbnlegends @eddiesxangel @munsonzgf @hereforshmut @eggo-segual @joannamuns9n @lavendermunson @leenameh @micheledawn1975

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite scully and mulder moments from s2

when they aren’t supposed to talk to each other anymore in the first episode because the x files were disbanded, so they came up with a code to know when to meet up

(and mulder at first is very annoyed that she wants to risk being seen with him because she’s deeply concerned about how distant he’s acting… “so what did you want?” “to see if you’re alright”. him trying to grapple with being cared for vs her trying to figure out why he won’t let her in. yeah.)

((and she runs her fingers through his hair at this covert meeting, after he confesses he’s lost all faith))

when she finds him, in the same episode, passed out on the floor of a random puerto rican jungle compound, and he grabs her by the shoulders, saying he saw the same aliens that took his sister

another covert meeting in episode 2, after moody mulder thinks he was moved to a case just to keep him busy: “is this seat taken?” she asks. “no, but I should warn you I am experiencing violent impulses” “well, i’m armed, so I’ll take my chances”

(and right after, when he said he wants to leave the FBI, but working with her is his only reason to stay)

“i’d consider it more than a professional loss if you decided to leave” <- sobbing. for ten thousand years.

episode 3, when she flew 300 miles in the middle of the night to draw his blood. couldn’t anyone else have done that? no. it needed to be Her.

(there’s another, very brief scene towards the end of episode 3, where she peeks over his shoulder and the height difference is incredible)

scully stopping her class because she gets a call from him, then flying up to New York to do an autopsy for him. and when they see each other they both smile SO big it’s adorable, even as she is holding a human stomach. krychek seems confused. he wouldn't understand, would he?

and then flying in AGAIN to try and help mulder during his hostage negotiation with duane barry in episode 5, getting furious when she is told to “calm down” while he is in danger

when she finally wakes up from her coma in episode 8- how she yells at her mom for calling him “fox”, how he brings her a VHS tape of superbowl highlights and she deadpans “i knew there was a reason to live”

(and he finally gives her necklace back- but then he leaves, despite wanting nothing more than to stay by her side, to let her be with family)

in episode 9, when they are finally back together, mulder tries to get her to stay home from this investigation to keep her safe, because he's terrified of her getting hurt again: “scully, i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go”, he says, but she’s too stubborn to be stopped, and he realizes it’s an impossible fight

(later, they engage in an intense scientific argument over the existence of silicon based life forms, and it feels deeply charged)

another reassurance in episode 9 that she is okay despite what she has gone through: “i’m back and I’m not going anywhere” (shoulder grab!!!!) “i'm counting on you” (lingering eye contact!!!!)

when he returns from his mission to find scully handcuffed, having just saved herself with some quick thinking, and she has to comfort HIM at the sight of her in distress: “i'm okay, i’m okay”, she repeats, while he gently grabs her face, and seems to ignore everything she is saying to ask if she’s alright

(and the month long quarantine that ensued, which we saw none of, but the fact that it happened at all is lovely to me)

sharing an umbrella in episode 10!!!!! it’s really the simple things in life you know!!!

going out on a rib date… he wipes the sauce off of her face, then goes into explaining how a new spirit can take over a body

when mulder’s sense of injustice is going off that episode, so he leaves the restaurant to defend a kid being bullied, and when scully follows the mean kid taunts him by saying “why don’t you run along with the little wife?” and neither of them react (except for a few moments later when he’s staring intently at her, and it looks like he is considering the possibility)

(bursting into her motel room) “scully? you’re not gonna believe this” <- he said the line!!!! (and she could believe it, because she had figured it out on her own)

exchanging theories on murders and repression of memories: “i seem to recall you having some pretty extreme hunches”, she says, and he replies “i never have”. they both smile in the quiet of driving along a small town road.

when mulder narrowly escapes having his throat slit, and after scully nearly shot the woman holding him hostage, she runs to him and carefully cradles his head while he’s still on the floor…. oh the tenderness. i actually might fall apart.

thinking they will have free time on their trip to Minnesota in episode 13, he bought them tickets to a football game <3 and they didn’t get to go but it was SUCH a nice thought

mulder noticing that scully is in extreme distress while looking at the victims of the killings in episode 13,  but trying to give her space to admit that she is terrified; “scully, if you’re having trouble with this case, I want you to tell me” “I’m not having trouble”, she lies, and he answers “i just don’t want you to think you have to hide anything from me” oughhh.... </3

and when the killer who terrified her so awfully kidnaps her, and mulder arrives to find her, she insists that she’s okay despite shaking like a leaf, until he lifts her chin up. only then does she start sobbing into his chest, while he mumbles “it’s alright, it’s alright” to her. ohhh, the vulnerability hits hard here, especially because she had just said she didn’t want him to feel like he had to protect her! as if there was ever going to be any other option; he is the protector and he will protect what he loves, it’s all he knows

taking the little kid they meet at the refugee camp in episode 15 to get lunch, because one thing these two are gonna do is get any youth they encounter some food. and mulder gives him money for extra fries because he WILL spoil any random child.

she cuts her hand on a thorny branch left in their car, and when mulder says “let me see that”, she replies that it is nothing, trying to deny him any chance to be concerned. then when she starts feeling very ill, she keeps telling him its fine, because for some reason the doctor cannot doctor herself.

(he goes off to get the bad guy, and she is in the car hallucinating. when she finally breaks free from the clutches of evil, he’s lying on the ground, having been… like, psychically stabbed? and still. his first question when he sees her is. “you’re okay?” aughhhhhhhhh)

that time mulder was actively dying of alien poison in episode 17, so she barged in and started yelling at the doctor to get his shit together, because she knew what to do and he didn’t. and she manages to save him.

mulder agreeing to trade who he thought was his sister for scully in a hostage deal, then saying he couldn’t have told her it was his sister because he knew scully would never have let him go through with it... the terrible pain of knowing somebody so well, you know they'd endanger themselves for you...

after scully saves his life by figuring out how to treat his alien poison, she stays by his bed and gently strokes his hair. and when he opens his eyes, she was holding his arm. she smiles and says “thanks for ditching me”, to which he replies that he found his faith again (<3)

seasick mulder fumbling for words in episode 19, while she tries to see if he's feeling any better: “you’re lucky you inherited your father’s legs” “what?” “his SEA legs” (scully laughs while he is in ocean-induced misery)

when they take shifts watching the suspicious guy on the boat that makes you old, his alarm goes off to indicate his shift was over. he goes to wake scully up and switch off, she mumbles something about having just fallen asleep, and he offers to give her a little bit longer to rest. so sweet.

exchanging magic tricks while investigating the sideshow performers in florida in episode 20- her making it look like the cricket came from behind his ear, him pretending to make the nail suddenly appear

“we’re exhuming your potato” “may i ask why?” (she goes into a convincing explanation on searching for evidence, he ruins it by interrupting to say “we found out you used to be a dog-faced boy”)

episode 21: “see, this is a helium balloon, and the one thing i did learn in kindergarten is that when you let them go, they float up, up, and away” “did you learn about wind in kindergarten?” (she is funny and she doesn’t get enough credit for that!)

and episode 24: iI just came up with a sick theory, mulder” “ooh, I’m listening”

mulder brushing her hair back, asking if she is okay after nearly getting decapitated

and who can forget episode 25, the season finale, when mulder is collapsing into her arms, delirious with fever and covered in his father’s blood; she lays him down in her bed, placing a cold compress on his forehead. “we’ve got to find out who killed my father” “right now you need to rest. it’s okay” what if i started yelling

him waking up after she had to put him in a coma for damage control: “you shot me >:(” “yes, i did” (patiently explains how she saved his life about 3 times in 72 hours, including by shooting him)

him thanking her for taking care of him; her asking him to find out what the files he's determined to understand say about her disappearance

[leclsrc]

mr. nice guy ✴︎ ms47

genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.3k (of smut. you’ve been warned)

Mick Schumacher is the paddock’s golden boy. He likes upholding this reputation, but there’s something nagging at him lately that makes it... difficult.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… penetrative sex, anal sex; like descriptive anal, dirty talk (praise central!!), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, some squirting?, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal lol

hope you like it everyone! :) i finished it early so revising can kiss my butt ahhaaha.

Mick has a secret.

It’s more of a problem than a secret (to him at least), and it concerns you. But it’s not that he feels the spark is gone, and it’s definitely not that he feels like breaking things off with you. Between you both, everything’s been good and steady despite how demanding his career is. Sometimes, if time permits, you’ll go out to dinner during a race weekend, or even spend more than a few days with each other.

Point is—he’s more than happy with your relationship. Even the sex is good, and like everything else, you two are just compatible in that department. Up until last month, actually, Mick had been okay. And then Lando just had to open his loud mouth during a game of poker in Charles’ hotel room, during a conversation about a girl he’d slept with the night before.

“I didn’t know girls were into that,” George had said, curious. Nobody was really paying attention to the poker anymore, everyone turned toward Lando. He’d smiled, a smug, cheeky little git.

“Oh, some are. But if you want to try, chances are you’ll be the one asking.”

“Really?” Mick had interjected. He’d been quiet for the duration of the discussion, so it comes as a bit of a surprise. George and Lando had shared a smirk, a look. Then Lando’d said passively: “Yeah, Mick. Didn’t pin you as a guy who’d be into that, though.”

“Hmm,” Mick mused. He didn’t pin himself as that kind of guy either. Sex with you isn’t necessarily vanilla—it can get rough—but for some reason, Mick just isn’t that guy. But with Lando, being into that had made sense. His sexcapades always have a thrill to them, an edge. 

“Yeah,” Charles had quipped, smirking now, too. “Because… well, you’re a nice guy, Mick.”

He is a nice guy. A sweet guy. Fans call him cute all the time. So he figures this new pressing dilemma won’t press. Except it does press—thoughts of being able to play with you, possess you that way irk him well into the night.

So, now, Mick’s faced with the resulting problem-and/or-secret, and it won’t be solved unless he tells you. Because, really: how does any sane guy respectfully tell his girlfriend he wants to fuck her ass?

He’ll try. Anyway, he figures the timing is perfect: you’ve taken time off work to come and visit him for a week at the Las Vegas launch. As soon as you’d arrived at his room, he had you on his bed being fucked within an inch of your life—an instance that repeated itself many times over the course of the last few days.

Mick tries to trace the reasons why he feels a bit shy about telling you. Maybe because everyone thinks he’s a sweet guy, and sweet guys aren’t into things like these. Even if you know he gets a little less sweet in bed, he thinks this is still uncharted territory for the both of you.

“Babe?” He calls, snapping out of his reverie.

“Still changing,” you yell, muffled by the door to the bathroom.

He gets up, stretches, and knocks twice anyway; the sight of you unclothed isn’t novel to him. You open it and stare up. “Yeah?”

“I need to get my AirPods, I think I left them on the vanity.”

“Oh, fuck. Sure. Come in.” You let the door open all the way and he enters, pressing a kiss to your hair as he searches for his earphones. You’re half-dressed, in a tiny tee and lace panties, hair disheveled and thrown over one shoulder. You bend over to rifle through your luggage and he gulps. He’s a sweet guy. 

You huff, yanking a pair of jeans out of your suitcase. “I have no good clothes anymore.”

“Nonsense. Everything looks great on you,” your boyfriend replies, taking his AirPods from where they rest on the dresser.

You smile and scoff playfully, placing the jeans back inside before pulling out a dress. “The Mick Schumacher complimenting me? God, what’d I ever do to deserve this?” You turn to the large mirror, holding the dress in front of your body to envision how it might look. From this angle, your back is to him, ergo, he can see your pert ass clearly, flexing with every pose you make for the dress. He blinks hard.

You even lift your hair into a makeshift bun to try and see how the dress looks, but still you seem frustrated. “It looks great, babe,” he cuts in. “I promise.”

“Does it?” You turn back around to show him the dress, pouting. “I dunno. Something’s a bit off. Or maybe the shirt’s just ruining the look.” You toss him the dress, which lands on his face—it’s satin and smells like you. When it slides off his face and into his grip, you’re already halfway through tugging your shirt off.

Underneath you’re wearing a bra that matches the underwear—pretty, white lace—and Mick feels his heart thrum heavily. He’s a sweet guy, though. So he tosses you your dress when you reach out for it and watches you pull it on for real this time. “Huh,” you muse. “You were right.”

“Of course I was,” he says with a laugh, coming up behind you. His height advantage lets his chin rest comfortably on your head. “You look very pretty.”

“Mmm?” You ask with a light giggle, leaning backwards. “Danke, Mickie. What time do you need to be on the paddock?”

“In two hours. Minimum,” he says, his big hand resting on your waist. He lets it slide downward, until he’s at the top of your thigh, where the dress sits. He pinches the hem, traces it until he’s touching the back of your dress. “Don’t worry. No rush.”

“No rush…” You repeat, nodding, letting him feel you up, encouraging it. 

You shudder, feeling his hand venture underneath your dress, in the process raking it up. Everything happens in the mirror, like you’re watching it in real-time—Mick’s teasing, his slight smile, the way his eyes have totally darkened.

Already growing wet, you reach your hand behind you and it wraps around Mick’s bicep for leverage. It’s solid, defined under your grip, and it makes you even more aroused.

His hand rakes your dress up to your waist, so he gets a clear view of your panties. You meet his gaze, lidded and impossibly aroused, in the mirror. “This the pair I bought you?” You bite a smile back and nod. You remember the day he gifted this particular set to you; it’d come to your apartment in a pink box. You’d written him a thank you text and a This is so unnecessarily pricey Mickie, to which he’d replied with Nonsense, send me a picture. “I like it,” you say hoarsely.

“Ah, believe me, so do I,” he groans, his head coming down to press against your neck. “More than like. I love how good you look. All for me, yeah? You’re my pretty girl.”

You shiver at the show of possession, and your grip tightens as you nod. You’ve grown quiet, an air of anticipation surrounding you both. “You like that,” he says, and it’s more of a statement than a question. “You like being my pretty girl, huh? All dolled up and so, so good for me.”

“For you,” you confirm. “Yes.”

“Can you trust me?” He asks. And then, to push you further, “Will you be good for me?” His fingers travel to your front, press against the seat of your thong. His touch is strong and persistent, and he stuffs the fabric a bit into your cunt, just to watch you squirm; just to feel how wet you are. Not to make you wait, no. Not to edge you either. Because, he reminds himself before the strands of his sanity leave, because he’s a sweet guy.

“Always,” you say, shuddering. Already you’re showing signs of wanting to cum.

“Come on, let’s go to the bed, baby.” You nod and follow silently, letting him lift you up and lay you down. You giggle, watching him stare down at you before reaching out for him, craving a kiss.

Like always, Mick gives you what you want, dipping down to press your mouths together.

It turns hot and messy quick, your arms coming up to wrap around his broad shoulders, trying to pull him closer, feel him against you, his hands all over you. He grunts, stumbling a little, and parts from you, much to your chagrin.

You sit up, shifting yourself onto your knees so you’re more-or-less level—except he’s standing up and you’re on the edge of the bed. Your hair covers your eyes a little when you lean closer, pouting.

“Come on, fuck me, Mick.”

“Yeah?” He asks. When he’s horny, and when you’re coaxing him like this, like a vixen, like something he just can’t deny, his words get sharper, actions harsher. You’d look at your bruises in the mirror—angry thumb prints, hickeys where your tops and dresses won’t give it away (he’s a gentleman in that regard), bruised knees from bad race nights when he needs to fuck your throat raw and rid himself of frustrations—and smile. “You want me to stretch this little pussy out?”

He pushes you backwards again, and you flip yourself over, wiggling your ass at him. “Please?”

Christ, it’s like you know his pressing secret, like you want him to let it out, and stuff you full, and make you dumb.

He blinks. He’ll be sweet about this. As sweet as he can get, anyway. He sheds his shirt and gets behind you, holds you still when he tugs your thong to the side. His palms are big and rough against your skin, a bruising grip left on your hips, but still you can feel how gentle he is with you underneath it all.

You hear him pull his cock out, the elastic of his sweats stretching. He slides his cock in between your cheeks, and even through there you can feel how heavy, how big it is against you. You whimper at the feeling of it. “Come on, Mick,” you try again, voice airy from impatience. “I’ll take it.”

He lets his cock glide messily over your pussy, lubing himself up from the slick gushing out of you. You get wet so easily, he thinks. One touch, one word, and you’re like putty around him, needy and clingy and oh so aroused. You’re so wet, he mumbles, stupefied. You clench around nothing, grow even wetter. 

He pushes inside then, impatient as you are.

A series of fucks erupt from his mouth, finally sinking into your entrance. It’s just the tip, but still you’re tight around him, your legs shuffling to accommodate the stretch. “I’ve got you,” he says. His vision’s cloudy. He keeps thinking—if you’re this tight now, this good, this pliant, what more if you let him fuck you there?

You’re dizzy with pleasure—every fuck with Mick is as dizzying as the last. You urge him to stuff you further, your whimpers lost in your head, but you can hear them faintly. Please, Mick. Yes, deeper, fuck, more. And, as if to encourage you, he goes, yeah? Like it like this, baby?

He knows you do. He’s sweet that way, always giving and giving. But you know something’s different—you feel it, even as you gasp from the feeling of his dick fucking you open. He wants something different. Something more.

You’re so tight, so sensitive, throbbing hotly around his dick. He fucks you hard and dirty, keeping a hand on your back, making sure you’re always in an arch, perfect and poised just for him. Your eyes flutter. Mick, you say, but it’s lost in your own moans. I’m so close—I might—fuck—

He grunts, feels you tighten around him. He fucks you harder, splits you open. You let him. “Go on,” he says, and the authority of his voice brings you both back to a state of semi-lucidity. “Go, make a mess of yourself on my dick.”

He utters the instructions with an edge to his voice. It’s husky and a bit lazy, but still you follow, letting the coil in your stomach unknot itself. Your jaw hangs open, eyes rolling backwards, letting your moans leave you noisily and breathily. More, Mickie. I want all of it. I want more. You’re so wet, you’re practically squirting slick all over him.

You’re cumming hard and slow, dragging out your orgasm by fucking back against him. Each thrust is punctuated with a squelch of your cunt around him. You dig your nails into the cotton duvet, feeling slick run down your thighs. His words spur you on, and his pace doesn’t let up, instead going harder, deeper. You cum so fast for me, princess. Gonna go again? 

His shaft is almost dripping with how much you’ve released on it, a wet noise sounding every time he moves. Come on, he coaxes gently. Give me another. You’ll give me another, hmm?

Yes, Mickie, you moan. It’s loud and unashamed. Yes, fuck.

Still sensitive, clenching and squeezing, you let the stimulation take you over, drown you until you’re barely breathing, let alone speaking coherently. Already the coil twists again, and you anticipate the pending orgasm, the high, the release. You let Mick fuck it out of you. You let him give.

You cum again, building up and up and then crashing messily around him, whimpers leaving your mouth and shudders racking your body.

It hurts, almost, with how intense it is; it comes in the midst of heavy, rough thrusts pressing against the deepest parts of you. You’re almost wailing with how good it hurts, your arms giving and letting you collapse on the sheets. You convluse weakly, feeling him pull out, a gasp leaving your mouth.

In response, Mick presses a reassuring hand to the small of your back. You breathe deep, tension leaving your body, walls still fluttering. You’re so good for me, princess. You take whatever I give you. My good girl. It comes in waves, the praise.

He wrangles you atop him, so you’re semi-straddling him. Somehow, lying on his hard, sweaty chest, with your legs on either side of him, both of you barely clothed—you still in the set, Mick in his boxers only—feels so much more comfortable than the bed. “How are you, baby?”

You nod.

“So good. You take me so well every time.”

“You didn’t cum, Mickie,” you pout into his chest. You grind lazily against him, smiling when you feel his dick swell against your still-dripping cunt. He grunts. You’re insatiable, he says. Absolutely crazy.

“I want it,” you say quietly, into his ear, hot. “Give it to me again. Again.”

It’s like time slows, when your lips bite into his earlobe, your fingers lithe and dextrous between your bodies, tracing over the solid indents of his abs. His own arm sneaks over your waist, wraps around it, lets it rest over the sticky skin, and thinks. Maybe this is when he can solve his problem, let the secret spill out of him.

He grits his teeth, brought back to reality when your grip moves south to palm at his dick. “Princess,” he says, breathing unsteady. “You trust me, right?”

The air shifts. You stare down at him with big eyes, glassy from your previous stimulation. And you nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.” He says. “Good.” He brings his other hand up to his mouth, covering two fingers with spit, and then, like a dam has broken: “M’gonna play with your ass, princess.”

Your eyes widen, but he starts nodding, smiling that sweet smile of his. So this is what he wanted. You inhale shakily, your hand leaving his dick to find purchase on his abdomen again. He heaves the both of you into a sitting position, so you can both breathe easier, but also so his access to your ass is easier, better.

He covers his digits with spit again. “It’ll feel good.” He reaches behind you and your hands are iron on his shoulders, your body rigid with anticipation, but also excitement.

He spreads you open, sinks his hands into the flesh there. “Trust me. Be a good girl.” He smears spit over the rim of your ass, thinks fuck, finally. “Relax for me.” 

Ah, you whimper. Ah. He feels you take his cock in your grip, jerking it twice, slurring a whimper into his ear: Fuck me, please. And because he knows you need a distraction from the stretch, he gives you the familiar kind, his dick tight and hard in your cunt. 

He thrusts upward to hit your sweet spot so you’re distracted when he’s rubbing tight circles, coaxing relaxation out of your ass. He feels your tension roll away. He’s got you like putty again. You’re caught up in the feeling, of bouncing on him; his hand momentarily leaves your ass to unclasp your bra and palm over your tits like a man starved.

Absently he thinks, is this what a nice guy does? Fucks his girlfriend’s pussy raw so he can claim her ass next? He squeezes his eyes shut, lets the thoughts filter out.

A strangled moan leaves you when he breaches your little hole. Just a bit more, he thinks, letting his finger back out, rubbing again, dipping lower to collect slick from your gushing cunt. He can tell you’re going to like this. “Okay?” You nod desperately, bouncing faster. Your slick is everywhere.

One hand leaves your tits to rub at your clit; the other stays rubbing circles over your rim, occasionally breaching. You nod. More, Mickie. Needy again. His fingers are wet and insistent against your clit and your ass, and the sensations flood you, knocking you into a state of euphoria. He stretches your ass open around one of his fingers, rubbing faster as he goes, feeling you get wetter.

“Mmmmf m’god,” you murmur, dazed. “Mick, I—I want more, fuck.” You cant yourself backwards to catch him.

He thrusts it, experimentally, collects more slick to make the glide easier. I know, he coos. I know, princess. Why don’t you give me one more? And you nod, because it’s easy, like this—when his dick is hard and deep in you. You bounce, each moan louder than the last, until finally your thighs are trembling and you’re releasing everywhere. 

It’s a lot—a lot of slick, a lot of pleasure. You can’t tear yourself away from his cock, or his hand insistently pressing into you from behind. You whimper, sensitive, eyes vacant with overstimulated pleasure. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, and you moan into it.

“Just fill me up,” you beg. “I can take it.” He uses your release to shove another finger in, relaxing you further, drawing moans out of you that interrupt your flow of thought. It feels so new. It feels so good. 

“Patience, princess,” he says. “I’m being nice this way.” He wants to split you open now, to be rough with it, to hear you whimper, to stuff you full of his cock and then his cum. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He can wait.

He pulls out, rubbing the tip of his dick along the wetness of slick there. Your fingers dig into his broad shoulders, anticipating the breach. It comes, a dull burn that’s muted and slow, slow, slow. Mick grunts. “Can—” he tries, but the feeling is getting to him, the innate desire to fuck you stupid, to take advantage of how tight you feel. “Can you relax for me a little? Loosen up for me, princess.”

Okay, you murmur. I will. And you do, nodding as you allow yourself to relax. You can’t fathom the stretch. Mick’s already big—big shoulders, big arms, and feeling him so deep in you is addicting to a fault. 

He slips in further, eliciting a moan from both of you. Expletives leave his mouth in rapid German, and he tries to wedge a sorry in there for the language—but he can’t, just keeps grunting as he wrestles himself deeper inside you.

Relax, he grits. Almost there, so good, baby. You lean into him, nodding, letting him coax you through it, through the stretch, the pleasure. He wishes he could see how well you take him, but he knows that after this, it’s going to happen a lot. He’ll get his chance then, to bend you over, or to flatten your legs against your chest, make you take it better.

Give it to me, Mickie, you whimper. Your hole’s so tight around him, pussy wet and dripping everywhere; he doubts he’ll last long with how you squeeze him. Your tiny hole, so little just earlier, is stretching so well just to take him.

He grunts. He’s so deep in you. He’s positive you can feel him in your stomach. When he finally bottoms out, after a few moments of prolonged silence (save for the intermittent moans), you both exhale. “You’re,” you say, breathless. “You’re so deep inside me.”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Love this dick,” you hum mindlessly, smiling, starting to grind on it. And fuck, why’d he ever keep this secret for so long?

Once you’ve started moving, he takes it as a greenlight to go faster, progressively speeding up his thrusts until they’re sloppy, loud with the noise of your slick and his precum. His hands are big on your waist, controlling how you move and how you stay still. “Fuck, baby,” he says, desperate. “You’re so perfect.”

For you, Mickie, you moan. 

He doesn’t realize how brash his actions are until he has to readjust his grip and sees indents of his thumbs on your hip, ones that will no doubt leave dark bruises. But he ignores them, and ignores the throb of arousal that ignites through him seeing you so wrecked and debauched like this, and thrusts harder. “Shit,” he grits. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You encourage him, bouncing back to meet his thrusts, embracing the burn of it. You’re certain you’ve cum twice already with how spent you feel, but the pleasure comes in waves every time he thrusts, sending you into a new kind of dizzy. You can feel just how split open you are, because your boyfriend is thick, and you can sense how wide open you are just from how well his dick fits. He sizzles into a space of just talking, talking, talking, to somehow redirect the stimulation—it falls into praise, questions, mumbled pet names.

Gonna fuck your little ass so full, he grunts. Full of my cock, my cum.

You cry out. Yes, you respond. Mickie—I want it.

I know you want it, he says. He mumbles something nondescript in German, voice heavy and rough. Then: Wanna take this dick, hmm?

He pulls out to the tip, then sinks back inside fast. It’s like whiplash, like the stretch has been played back at twice the speed. You moan loud, open-mouthed and desperate, nodding. Your mind is cloudy, cock-drunk, the way you always get when Mick’s been fucking you this long.

Gonna, he says, guttural. Gonna fuck this little hole. Stretch it out.

Then he’s fucking you fast and dirty, wetter and wetter, and you’re cumming again, watching yourself gush slick all over his lower abdomen and his dick, making the glide faster, easier.

You whimper all through it, prolonging your own release so you never have to let go of this euphoria. You hear him like he’s six feet below you—good girl, good girl, good fucking girl, yeah. Give me another.

Another—it seems impossible. But still you say, “Yeah, I’ll give you another,” your voice sticky with thirst. He fucks another one out of you, his pace rapid fast, dick pressing perfectly into your ass. It’s messy, your cum is everywhere, but you wedge another gush of slick out, and that’s what does it.

This time it’s you asking: cum in me, Mick. Make me full, please.

Mick looks down, watches you take him, your release everywhere, and grits his teeth. He presses his forehead to your bare shoulder, grunting, then filling you up. You moan at the feeling, already anticipating how good it’ll feel when he pulls out, lets it gush out of you in spurts. 

You both breathe heavily. Then: “So, anal, huh?”

And then you’re laughing, albeit tiredly, Mick lifting you up to run you both a bath where you make him cum one more time.

Later that night, when you’re asleep (a day of racing and anal sex is not for the weak, you’d said before skipping on Haas-sponsored dinner), he retreats to Lando’s room to play poker.

“Where’s your girl?” The Brit asks, a cheeky smile on his face. “She passed out?”

“Woah, locker room talk much,” Alex says defensively from the couch. “Keep it down, you nymphos.”

“Just trying to gauge if Mick here tired his girlfriend out.”

Mick reviews his cards and offers a smile. “I would never.”

“Yeah, Mick’s vanilla,” George jokes. “Lando, stop bringing your porn addiction into our poker games.”

“Vanilla?!” Alex says, interest reignited.

“Have you seen the guy?” Lando points blank at Mick, who stares back with an amused smile. “The press calls him F1’s golden boy. The cutest little puppy on the paddock. He just isn’t into tiring sex.”

“Let alone”—George stifles a laugh—“what you’re into, Lando.”

Mick hums, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a sweet guy.”

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Star Wars Fic Roulette

@dragonrider9905 hey love, so I finished the second request. So this is 29 and 48. I hope you like it.

It turned out more fun than expected.

Love oo,

Get Away

Warning: Betrayal, infidelity, hurt, looking for a fresh start, fluff, angst, gossip, fed up with being gossiped about, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

You sat in the cafeteria of Kamino nursing your caf. You really didn’t want to see anyone today, much less do any kind of work. How were you supposed to work, when the man you were supposed to marry just told you, he was in love with someone else. You understood, after all you had been on Kamino for the past seven months working on getting your medical licence. What shocked you however, was when he told you the person he was leaving you for, was none other than your best friend. 

Oh and he also felt it was relevant for you to know they had actually been sleeping together for the past year. So, not only did you lose a best friend, a fiance, but you were being cheated on, while you were with them. While the three of you would hang out. Go to the holovid cinemas, shopping, having lunch or dinner; all the while they were putting on fake smiles, they were betraying you behind your back. 

Word spread around Kamino faster than a gundark looking for its next meal, before you knew it you were being referred to as that medic. The medic with the broken heart, the medic with the cheating fiance, the medic who suffered betrayal from your closest and best friend. How they found out about who your fiance cheated with was beyond you. What you needed however was to get away, to do some real work, be transferred to the front lines. 

So you sat in your supervisor’s office, pleading to be transferred to a Commando unit or a unit that needed a medic. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re emotional, and you could foul up in the field.” Your supervisor who never even cared for a second reiterated for the third time. 

“Excuse me, but you’ve never cared about me, so why now?”

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I have to be fair.”

“So having me sit day after day as my personal life is being gossiped about and talked about is fine and dandy to you! Why aren’t you concerned that my emotional state right now isn’t affecting my performance! If anything, getting away from the gossip will ease my mind and heart.” You put all your effort into this speech, you just needed a break. 

She let out a sigh as she eyed you carefully, “Alright. I do know of a unit that could - - somewhat, need a medic. However…” she raised her finger to make a point, “if you foul up, if I get one negative report from the Sergeant in charge, and you’ll be right back here. Understood?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You held your hands together thanking her and the force for actually giving you a break. 

“Alright, I’ll contact the sergeant and send you your orders. They’ll be leaving soon for their mission. I suggest you get your bag ready, and be prepared. They won’t be coming back to Kamino for at least several rotations.”

“How many?”

“Last time it was nearly six months.”

You nodded understanding this wasn’t going to be an easy assignment, you headed to your quarters, packing what you deemed were essentials. It was about three hours later when a knock came at your door. 

You didn’t hesitate to open the door, surprised however to see a clone that had rather long hair and a red bandana tied around his forehead. 

“Can I help you?”

“Sergeant Hunter, Clone Force 99. I understand you’re our new medic.”

You blinked a few times, at his smooth voice. Most clones had a soft and determined tone to their voice, a commanding tone. However, his tone was warm and welcoming.

“Uh… sorry,” you apologized from spacing out, “Yes. I am. Well at least, I think I am. I haven’t received my orders yet.”

“Nope, because they’re here.” He passed you the datapad, “I understand you requested this assignment.”

You looked at the orders, assigning you to Clone Force 99 aka Bad Batch for the foreseeable future until your services were no longer required, you died, or they found someone better. You shook your head at the order and tossed the datapad on to your bed.

“Well guess, I’m with you guys. Nice to meet your sergeant.” You stuck out your hand to shake his. He nodded, shaking your hand. 

“May I ask why you requested it?” He pulled his hand away, he was glad he wore his gloves, he didn’t want you feeling how much his palm was sweating. He never experienced such fluttering feelings in his heart or stomach, just from meeting someone. Maybe he was coming down with something. 

“You mean you haven’t heard gossip that’s all over Kamino?”

Hunter smirked, so you didn’t know why his brothers were special or why they were in a class of their own, “We … my brothers and I aren’t exactly popular with the Regs.”

“Regs?”

“The regular clone troopers.”

You furrowed your brow confused, as you pointed to him, “You’re not a regular clone trooper?”

A smile appeared on his lips as he shook his head, “No. Not at all. We can go into details about that later, what are you doing though?” His eyes focused on the three bags you had packed on your bag.

“Oh, well my supervisor said to pack since when we leave tomorrow, we might not be coming back for a while…” you looked over to your bed and realized how much overpacking you did. “Ah, I overdid it, didn’t I?”

“More than somewhat. The Marauder isn’t a big ship. There is a cargo hold, but that usually carries our weapons, explosives, food rations. We each only have three body suits which we rotate, wash and mend ourselves. You may be able to bring two of those cases, but not more than that. And I would say two is stretching it.”

You turned back to look at the cases, “Well one of them is actually food, spices, and snacks. The second one is medical stuff, gauzes, medicine, surgical stuff, scanners, etc., and the last one is just personal stuff.”

“Hmm” Hunter tilted his head to read what was written on your personal pack, “You’re the stars to my galaxy, without you there is no light. Is that a message from your family?”

Your eyes focused on the scrawl that was on your bag, and you laughed, “No. That … that was my youngest cousin who wanted to leave me a memento of herself. It’s a line from her favourite song.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that, he liked it. ‘You’re the stars to my galaxy, without you there is no light,’ it somehow held a special and deeper message for him, yet he wasn’t sure why. 

“I like it.” He cleared his throat, focusing back on your bright and beautiful eyes. Somehow, that sentence made more sense as he looked into them, “Since it’s food and medical supplies. We’ll find room for it. Just don’t let Wrecker know about the food, it might dwindle faster than you anticipated.” He chuckled. 

“Who’s Wrecker?” You asked a little confused. 

“Oh you’ll meet them later today. Once you’re done here, join us in the cafeteria for a late dinner. We’ll be there at 1930 hours.”

You glanced at your watch and nodded, “1930 hours, I look forward to it, Sergeant.”

“Hunter”

“Hmmm?”

“No one calls me, Sergeant. Not unless they’re in trouble. Just call me Hunter.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, just call me by my name too.”

“Alright, mesh’la. I’ll do that. See you tonight.”

He waved and headed to his barracks, his cheeks blushing from the slip of calling you mesh’la, hopefully you didn’t realize it meant beautiful. 

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[muffinsin]

How do you think the Dimitrescu sisters would react when the fem reader is having a bad day, but doesn't want to say exactly why, and just wants their comfort to feel better?

This is an adorable one! :)

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

She notices your state immediately. You aren’t as happy, as energetic and eager, as excited or as enthusiastic when you see her

Upon getting to her study, you immediately push yourself to her and wrap your arms around her

As she turns to face you, she notices the miserable expression on your face and gently cups your cheeks

“What’s wrong, little one?”, she coos

You don’t answer her, but merely bury your face in her neck and whimper softly

She shivers as your breath hits her neck, and wraps her arms around you tightly

“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong, darling?”, she coos

When you shake your head, she doesn’t push it and only presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head

“Very well, little one. Would you like to watch me for a little bit? I’m about to wrap this up, my darling”, she offers as she gently pulls you to her desk

Eager to be close to her, you agree. You know, Bela will make it all better and make up for the horrible day you’ve had

She sits down and gently pulls you to her lap, her arm around you and her lips softly pressing against the side of your head

As you turn to face her and rest your head against her neck, you feel her rub your back gently

Your eyes close and you sigh contentedly

Her perfume is rich, but soothes you, and the sweet smell of her shampoo fills your nose as you move your head and her hair tickles your nose

Her fingers massage your back gently whenever her palm pauses from stroking along your backside

Gentle kisses are pressed to your head as she works, her purrs steady and comforting

You feel yourself relax more with each passing second, and feel thankful for her presence

Bela knows just how to calm you down, and you love it

Her steady purrs and gentle hums lull you closer and closer to sleep, and her gentle hand on your back feels heavenly

As she finishes with her work, her other arm wraps around you and her hand reaches up to cup the back of your head lovingly

Precise, trained fingers come up to scratch your scalp for a moment, then stroke your hair so soft and gently, you could cry from her affections alone

She lets you feel the love and care she has for you, her golden eyes closing too as she hums softly

Her fingers feel wonderful in your hair, tangling and scratching lightly, never uncomfortable or painful

She never tugs your hair, never clogs it with blood

She’s meticulous in her movements, and she allows you to see this

Bela holds you close to her as both of your eyes slip closed, a last sigh passing your lips as you cuddle closer

Despite the odd position of sitting rather than laying down, you’re both comfortable

You’ve never been this relaxed, and smile- grateful for her, and what the two of you share

Cassandra

While she doesn’t notice your distress by the look on your face and slumped shoulders, Cassandra picks it up immediately nonetheless

Your heart rate is different. Distressed

She inhales first, checking for the scent of blood from open wounds. However, you seem perfectly fine

Then, she takes notice of the frown on your face and your clenched fists at last. You’re-upset!

She strides to your side, and gasps in surprise when you quickly pull her against you and bury your head in her large chest

You groan, the sound muffled from your position

Cassandra stands still, her hands hovering in the air and her eyes wide at this. What the?

Thankfully, she recovers soon enough and wraps her arms around you as well. In return, she feels you squeeze her waist thankfully

“Did something happen?”, she questions curiously, concern and anger evident in her voice

She’s ready to tear whoever made you feel bad you apart

However, no true answer comes. You whine, and as you lift your head from between her breasts and stare up at her beautiful, dark golden eyes, you only sigh

Cassandra watches your hand raise, then feels you cup her cheek

“I’ll tell you some other time, yeah?”

She doesn’t understand, but by the utter look of exhaustion on your face she knows not to press it

Instead, she takes your hand and pulls you to the bathroom

While she would’ve loved to bring you into the hall of ablution for a nice, warm blood bath, she fears a normal one will have to do with her precious human

You watch as she pulls and pushes at the tub, as though trying to figure out how to let the water in. At least, it makes you smile and laugh softly at her attempts. “Spoiled”, is the word that comes to your mind as you watch the woman try to work something so simple after never having to let in water herself. Used to coddling and serving from the staff, from filling the tub to washing her, to drying her and dressing her again

You take pity on your girlfriend and finally reach out to turn the small lever and allow water to fill the bathtub. Cassandra only shoots you a smile

As you climb in, she adds soap for bubbles and brings some over to you. Your request to have her join you is denied for the moment, with the note that her dirty and bloodied skin will only turn the water to filth

Instead, though, you feel her press kisses to your shoulders and the side of your head

The temperature of the water is perfect, and the soap has a way of making you feel warm, soft and relaxed

Her fingers find your shoulders and gently squeeze, then a little harder

She works your body and figures it out within seconds of starting her massage, and you groan and moan in relief as she works on getting all the knots out and soothing your muscles

She doesn’t press for what caused the mood you’re in, and instead talks gently about her hunt as she massages you

Her presence is comforting, and the fingers working your skin apply just the right amount of pressure on you

She’s a goddess, and she’s yours

Daniela

She grins happily when you enter her room and immediately swarms up and to the door to greet you

However, her joyful expression is immediately replaced by a worried one at your state

Your eyes glisten with tears, a frown adorns your face. You grit your teeth and look absolutely miserable from the day you’ve had

Before she can talk and ask what’s going on, however, you already pull yourself tightly against her

She’s so soft, so comfortable and smells so well, you feel yourself relaxing a little bit already

With Daniela, all of today can’t reach you

Her arms are around you in an instant, her lips pressing to your forehead gently as she fusses about you

“Are you alright, my love? What happened?”, she coos, her hands eventually setting on your cheeks to tilt your head upwards and meet her eyes

They show the concern and love she feels, and you find yourself almost pulled in by their beautiful, golden colour

“I’ve had a bad day”, you admit, your arms only tightening around her. In return, she pulls you closer again too

She smells so well, as she always does. Whether vanilla, candy, coconut, flowers, honey or cotton candy, she always smells sweet and comforting to you

“Do you want to talk about it, my love?”, she asks sincerely. Her arms around you feel wonderful

You merely shake your head in return, and sigh contentedly in relief when she hums in acknowledgment and lets the matter drop

Instead, she pulls you to the bed and gently pushes you down on it

You giggle when she swarms fast, gathering blankets to pile on you, stuffed animals sitting in the bed and on her room, as well as the book the two of you have started reading

Lastly, she swarms underneath the blanket with you, her arms around you as she pulls you on top of her

Immediately, you rest your head on her large chest. You sigh, feeling comfortable and warm at last

She giggles, but only gathers you in her arms and pulls you against her like a teddy bear

You feel the comfortably warm blanket around you, cocooning you in its heat and safety

Daniela practically purrs at both, the warmth and your presence, and the low rumbling helps you feel at ease

With one hand raising and fingers playing with your hair, the other picks up the book and holds it in front of her

Then, she begins to read. Out loud and clear, neither too loud nor quiet, but just right to keep up the cozy atmosphere the two of you have created in the room

You close your eyes, content as she reads to you

Pages pass, and all too soon she finishes with the short chapter

As she does, you feel a kiss pressed to your head again

“It will all be okay, my darling”, she coos, and you believe it

Because how could it not be, with your perfect lover right by your side?

[cxrsed-angel]

Summer nights at the Drive In (fluff)|Eddie Munson x reader

word count: 1k

summary: eddie takes to the drive in and you misread his intentions

A/N: this is loosely based of an ethel cain song. but i wrote it in like one sitting just to get out of my writing break. I wanted to practice being a bit more descriptive.

warnings: a hint angst, they’re seeing a horror movie so mentions of like blood and gore but it’s not super detailed.

You’re sitting in Eddie the back of Eddie’s van, sitting on some old seats he put in the van as a couch for your drive-in movie date. you grab a handful of popcorn as you watch the horror movie that was playing, listening through his radio. He has a hand around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as you relaxed under his arm. The two of you had been dating for a few weeks now, seeing where things would go. 

you watch the movie seeing the gorey scene as the antagonists stab the victim repeatedly porn star character, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, falls dramatically as the blood starts forming around her body. you hear her screams through the car speaker, but you feel Eddie’s hands go further down your waist. You turn to look at him and see him staring at you, paying more attention to you than the movie. 

“What?” you look into his eyes, wondering why he was looking at you, wondering if you had a mess on your face, or something in your teeth, or if your hair looks stupid, or if your makeup…

“Nothing,” he says, smiling at you, which doesn’t help your insecurities. You look at him, confused. 

“Why aren’t you watching the movie?” He shrugs, uninterested in the movie. 

“Everyone knows if you have sex in a scary movie, you’re dead. it’s the rules, plus you’re way more interesting.” 

You’re staring into each other eyes. All you can think about is how pretty he looks as the moonlight shined through the car's windows, his big brown eyes looking into yours. he tied his hair in a low bun so it was out of his face since it's summer in Hawkins, and it’s so hot. You see his face better, taking in his features, a few curls frame his face, and the only thing you’re thinking of is. God, he’s so fucking pretty. 

 You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel his cold rings on your face. His hands are on your cheek as he leans closer. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the kiss, your stomach fluttering with excitement and anticipation. His lips touch yours as the two of you kiss softly. You hear screams and sounds of chainsaws from the movie, but it fades away in your brain, becoming nothing more than background noise as you focus on his lips. The slight taste of his cigarette is in your mouth. Your lips on each other for the first. you swear your heartbeat could be heard over the movie. It seems like it’s beating out of your chest. you’re nervous but excited. it was everything you imagined it would be. 

The two of you pull away slowly, but you’re eyes remain on each other. you stare, unsure of what to do next, what to say. then you remembered the rumors and the gossip of how he gets around with groupies from his shows, and you feel the excitement in your chest replaced with fear and disappointment, and Eddie could tell right away. 

Eddie panics, slightly scared he had moved too fast, worried he had done something wrong and pressured you. He thought the date was going well, that the two of you were going well. 

“Hey hey hey? What's wrong? My breath smells or something?” He hides his worries and concerns through humor, but he gets serious when he realizes it isn't working. 

 “Sweetheart, talk to me. What's Wrong?” 

You look down at the blankets he set on the floor of his van in the back, and the pillows, the battery-powered fairy lights he strung across the top of the van, setting the mood, and you realize this is how he does it, and all you could think about was the other girls he’d had back here, how he’d probably bring them right to the drive and fuck them while the movies played in the back. 

“Why did you…I thought you weren’t the type to date. I’ve heard you're not exactly a boyfriend type of guy?” you question him as your eye remain on the floor, choosing to look at anything, anywhere but him and those brown eyes. you mentally scolded yourself for being so naive he wanted to bang you and then move on to the next girl. 

“What? Where’s this coming from? I thought you’ve been enjoying our dates?” He looks at you, confused at what you just brought up.

“Did you just want to fuck me, Eddie? Is this how you do it with all your groupies!” You raise your voice slightly, moving away from him. 

“That’s not why I brought you here, I swear! Those rumors about the groupies and other girls and stuff that’s not true. I-“ he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, trying to find the words for what he was meaning to say.

 “No, I don’t sleep around; that shit is just one of the many rumors someone started about me. I really enjoy spending time with you, I’ve enjoyed these dates and, learning more about you, talking to you more than just when you’re asking for pot. I really, really like you, and I was, um…I was uh  gonna ask to be your boyfriend I wasn’t gonna try to sleep with you.”

You stare silently, taking in what he had just said, a bit shocked at his confession. You start feeling guilty about what you had assumed and how you believed the gossip. You never believed any of the other bullshit rumors about being a devil worshipper, so why did you believe he was the type to sleep around and break girls' hearts. 

“Eddie….I’m so sorry I got anxious and in my head and started overthinking…” You scoot closer to him, your hips touching his as you look at him, trying to apologize. 

“I would love it if you were my boyfriend.” you smile at him, hoping to salvage the date, hoping you hadn’t ruined it or that he hadn’t changed his mind. Eddie looks at you, and a slight smile forms on his lip. 

“I uh- I was hoping you’d say that honestly. Thats a big relief.” you see, there’s still hesitation in his voice and his eyes. 

“But… I-um, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything I’m uh. What I’m trying to say I guess I'm in no rush to do anything you’re not ready for, sweetheart I’ll wait until you’re ready.” 

You nod, understanding what he meant, smiling more, appreciating his words, especially considering your past experiences and guys moving faster than you wanted. 

“Thanks, Eddie, that means a lot, and again, I’m sorry I’ll stop believing Hawkins's gossip from now on. I promise” You feel his arm come around your waist, pulling you into a side hug. 

“Hey, it’s alright, really; I’ve already forgotten about it. Let’s just finish the movie, I think there is a couple of minutes left.” 

You relax against Eddie as his hand drapes over your shoulder, pulling under his arm, enjoying the rest of the movie and the start of your new relationship. You can’t stop smiling as you think about your boyfriend, Eddie. You get warm and fuzzy all over thinking about it. You watch the movie but can't help but feel his eyes on you again. You glance over and see him looking at you again. 

You playfully roll your eyes at him, lightly throwing a bit of popcorn at him. 

“Stop staring at me watch the movie Eddie.”

[yanderelionwrites]

Just One Date (Yandere!Mirio Togata x Reader)

A/N: Yo this turned out way longer than I expected it to, but I've been working on this for awhile now and I'm mostly happy with how it turned out. Mirio's one of my favorite characters so I just had to write him lol

Synopsis: You're convinced the Pro Hero Lemillion is just a little too invested with you, and it's starting to make you nervous. You want him to leave you be, but Mirio's offer is something you just can't refuse.

Content Warning: yandere, stalking, manipulation, coercion, drugging, kidnapping, non-consensual touching

Word Count: 4.2k

It all started with you just wanting to be friendly with the young Pro Hero who had decided to try the cafe you worked at. He was a popular and powerful hero, so it was only natural that you’d want to make a good impression. You treated him with kindness and delivered the best customer service you could possibly muster, and he left seeming satisfied with his visit. You thought that was the end of it.

However…

Maybe you had been too friendly with him, and he interpreted it as you being interested in him. Because he sure as hell was interested in you. It used to just be weekly visits during your shift, but now they’ve almost become daily. And you don’t see him just at the cafe anymore. Now, it feels like he’s everywhere. The grocery store, the bank, the mall, even at the movie theater! Whenever you inquire about these so-called “coincidental” encounters, he always passes it off as “being in the area” or “on patrol”, but those excuses aren’t cutting it anymore. There was something off about him, and it was making you feel uneasy. Which has led you to your current situation this afternoon.

“Hey, is (Name) here today?”

You furiously shook your head at your miffed coworker, pleading with her to say no. You were currently hiding in the back kitchen of the cafe you worked at, having found sanctuary there the minute you noticed a certain blond-haired hero approaching the establishment. You had begged your coworker, Unmei, to cover for you and tell him that you weren’t on shift today. Given her huffy and disgruntled ‘yes’, you could only hope she would follow through.

“Sorry…(Name) isn’t here right now…”

Yes! Thank you, Unmei!

“They’re out on their lunch break, but they’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

No! Why would you tell him that, Unmei?

The pro, Lemillion, lit up at this news and he gave her one of his award-winning smiles, saying, “I’ll be back in a bit then. Thanks for letting me know!”

He sashayed away after that, out the doors and down the street. Once he was nowhere in sight, you stormed out of your hiding spot and pulled your colleague to the side.

“What the heck, Unmei? You said you would cover for me!”

The girl shook her head, sighing. “Really, (Name), I don’t get why you’re trying to avoid him. It’s obvious he likes you! Are you really going to pass up the opportunity to date a top Pro Hero?”

“You don’t understand. I swear to God, he follows me wherever I go! No matter where I am, I end up running into him. Not to mention he’s constantly visiting me at work. It’s getting annoying,” You complain, massaging your forehead to quell the headache you’re getting just from thinking about Lemillion.

“Oh, you’re exaggerating,” Unmei chuckled at the thought. “There’s no way he’s everywhere you go. He’s got more important duties than to follow some civilian around. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

“It’s not a coincidence! I don’t know what it is about him, but he kind of gives me the creeps…”

“I think you’re the only person who would ever say Lemillion, of all heroes, is creepy,” Unmei shook her head, completely dismissing your concerns. She began to walk to the back kitchen with dishes in her hands. “I’m jealous, (Name). Not many are lucky enough to have a Pro Hero who’s got the hots for them. And one as popular as him, no less.”

“Lucky is not what I would call it…” You mumbled, but Unmei was too far away to hear. 

Thirty minutes came and went faster than you were ready for. You had just finished working through a rush, so you had no time to hide or prepare when Lemillion came through the doors, the biggest smile on his face when he saw you at the counter. You grimaced as he stalked up to you.

“Hey, (Name)! How are you today? Having a good time at work?” His grin was blinding; you couldn’t help but advert your gaze and back up a bit.

“Hi…Lemillion…I’m doing alright,” You muttered. Glancing to the side, you could see Unmei watching you with a smirk on her face. You tried to give her a pleading look to help you out of this situation, but she only gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the kitchen.

“You don’t have to keep calling me by my hero name, remember? We’re pretty close, so just Mirio is fine!”

We are most definitely not close. You thought, but nodded along with his suggestion anyway.

“Ri- Right…so, uh, what can I do for you today?” You said, trying to make this interaction as short as possible.

“Oh, I won’t be getting anything this time,” Mirio scratched the back of his neck. “Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you for a sec. Somewhere a bit more private.”

Uh oh. You hope that didn’t mean what you thought it meant. He wasn’t going to try and ask you out, was he? All of your encounters with him have been generally friendly so far, if you disregard the strange looks of longing and fleeting touches he’d sometimes give you. Despite the fact you’re convinced he’s been following you, you never thought he’d want to take your “relationship” a step further. It was dangerous for Pros to date after all; if any word got out that a hero had a partner, villains could easily snatch them up and use them for their nefarious schemes. This risk only increases tenfold when the hero is in Japan’s Top 10. All the more reason to shut his advances down.

“Um, I’m kind of busy right now. Besides, I just went on break, so I can’t-”

“Lemillion! It’s so good to see you again!” A booming voice resounded from behind you, making you flinch. Turning around, you see your boss approaching, a gleeful look on his face that rivaled the hero in front of you.

“Hey there, Mr. Kyōfu! Just thought I’d drop by and say hello to your lovely employee here!” You internally cringed at Mirio’s compliment and the wink he sent your way.

“Of course! You’re welcome here anytime! Can I get you anything? It’s on the house!” It was obvious how much your boss was sucking up to him, but Mirio didn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks, but I’m good!” The blond chuckled. “Though I was wondering if I could steal (Name) away for a bit? I know they’re busy, but I promise I won’t keep them for too long.”

“Sure, sure!” Mr. Kyōfu nodded, patting your back that you think was meant to be encouraging, but it only made you more uncomfortable. “Go ahead, (Name). We should be fine without you for now.”

“But, sir-” You tried to protest, but Mr. Kyōfu was already pushing you towards the swinging counter door, the only thing separating you from the beaming Pro Hero.

“Keep him company for as long as possible, alright? More customers will want to come in if they see him here,” He uttered lowly, so that only you could hear. “Sit by a window if you can, too.”

Of course all he cared about was the money. Your boss has been nothing but delighted with the fact that Lemillion chooses to make regular visits to his little cafe. Business has never been better here, as many people would do anything to see a big hero in person. So it was no surprise that Mr. Kyōfu would push you to entertain Mirio. Even if it made you super uncomfortable to do so.

You stumbled out the door right to where Mirio was patiently waiting. You wanted to argue with Mr. Kyōfu, tell him you wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from Lemillion as possible. If he wanted to keep the Pro around to be his moneymaker, he could find a way to do it himself. The look he was giving you, however, made any complaint die in your throat. There really was no getting out of this.

I need to find a new job.

Sighing, you reluctantly led Mirio away from the front counter and towards the back of the cafe, where it was more secluded. The both of you sat down in a booth, a nice big window next to you that gave you a view of the bustling city streets. Surprisingly, Mirio had the courtesy to sit across from you rather than next.

“Sooo,” You began awkwardly, hating the way he was staring straight into your eyes, a fond smile stretching across his features. “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, it’s something that's been on my mind for awhile now, and there was no point in just having it bumble around in my head for so long,” He started, his smile turning almost sheepish. “We’ve known each other for a couple months now, and I just can’t wait any longer to ask you this.”

Here it comes. A grimace forms on your face, dreading his burning question. You were already thinking of ways to turn him down, envisioning his sad and disappointed face when you ultimately rejected him. You would feel slightly bad about the whole thing, but at least how you feel would get through to him, and you would finally be rid of the guy.

“Can I take you out on a date?” Mirio grinned, an oh so optimistic and hopeful look shining in his eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, you made direct eye contact with him, wanting to get your point across loud and clear.

“L-Look, Mirio…” Oh geez, you’re already stuttering. “You’re a real nice guy and I’m, like, super flattered that you’re asking me of all people out, but…my answer is no. I’m sorry.”

Mirio’s smile faltered, a confused expression on his face as he quirked his head to the side. He looked like a giant puppy who couldn’t understand what you were saying.

“Aw, why not? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, a pout forming on his lips. “Oh wait, you must have a boyfriend already, huh? I guess I should have asked beforehand.”

“No, it’s not that. I just…I guess I’m not really…comfortable…going on a date with you.”

“Oh, so I did do something wrong…” Mirio frowned, eyes downcast as he avoided your gaze.

“No! Well, yes, I mean,” You bit your lip, feeling nervous now that you have to confront him and explain the reason why. “The thing is…I know that you’ve been following me, Mirio… There’s just no way you’re always on patrol in the same area wherever I’m at. Granted, I don’t have any proof, but I know it’s not just a coincidence. It’s happened too often now.”

You glanced up to see Mirio staring at you. The unreadable expression he was giving you was slightly unnerving. You were so used to seeing him with a big, dopey grin, it was odd to see anything but on his countenance.

You waited for him to deny your claims, call you crazy to even think someone like him would stoop so low to stalk a civilian just because he liked them. Unmei was right; it sounded ridiculous. But you just couldn’t shake the feeling away. The more time that passed, the more silly you felt for even voicing your concerns. Mirio was probably thinking about how much of a paranoid weirdo you were and was having second thoughts on even suggesting a date. That is, until he started laughing.

“Oh, is that all? I was worried I had offended you or something!” Mirio scratched his cheek, his usual smile having now returned to his face. “I was only looking out for you, sunshine. Making sure you were okay and stuff. That’s kind of my job, you know?”

What? You stare at him, dumbfounded. You couldn’t believe he actually admitted to stalking you, and finds nothing wrong with it no less! Your suspicions were right after all, much to your horror. You weren’t even sure what to say to him next.

“Uh, no? You can’t be seriously trying to justify that by saying it’s part of being a hero! You’re supposed to be looking out for everyone, not just me.”

“I know that, sunshine. And I do! I just take extra special care to make sure you’re safe and sound,” Mirio reached his arm across the table and took a hold of your hand. “You’re important to me, (Name), and I would hate for something bad to happen to you.”

You quickly yanked your hand away and narrowed your eyes at him. How could he think all of this was okay to do? It was a major breach of privacy, and you shuddered at the possibility that he’s followed you home before.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to me. Something might, however, if I’m seen with you. You know just as well as I do the dangers of a Pro dating a civilian, and I don’t want to get involved with all that.”

“I would never let you get hurt, sunshine. We can keep our relationship on the down-low, if that would ease your worries,” Mirio winked, acting like there was a chance you would say yes after what he just confessed.

“The answer is no, end of story. I want you to stop following me and just leave me alone.” You stated firmly. Hopefully, Mirio would get the hint and you could finally go about your life in peace again.

It was never that easy though.

The blond sighed, before an uncharacteristic smirk appeared on his lips. A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his eyes, ready to share an idea that you were sure to dislike.

“How about this: if you go on just one date with me, I promise to leave you alone and never bother you again. Deal?” Mirio stuck out his hand, expecting you to shake it, but you only gave him a skeptical look.

“And what if I don’t?” You inquired, folding your arms across your chest in a challenging manner despite your anxious heart.

Mirio leaned in closer to you. “Then I guess I’ll just have to up my game and try even harder to get you to fall for me! Whatever that may call for.”

Goosebumps rose on the back of your neck and spread down to your arms as you thought about what that could mean. You didn’t want to know how far Mirio was willing to go with all this, but you knew he wasn’t bluffing and really wouldn’t stop his advances. As much as you have come to dislike the hero, you saw that there was no other choice than to accept the ultimatum he has presented to you. 

That’s what you hated most about this whole situation. Even if you tried to report him, no one would believe your word over his. He’s one of the best heroes this country has ever seen; his reputation is too good to be tarnished by the claims of one civilian.

It would just be one night with him…

And then he’d leave you alone.

“...Alright, it’s a deal. One date and nothing more.”

* * *

You peered up at the inconspicuous building where Mirio had told you to meet him. It was a restaurant you were unfamiliar with, but the blond vouched that the food there was to die for. He said that he was good friends with the owner, so it wouldn’t be hard for him to place a reservation on such short notice.

Must be nice having so many connections…

Entering the establishment, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that this place wasn’t super fancy like you feared. It was nice, sure, but not at the level of having multiple kinds of cutlery placed at your table. You were worried Mirio would take you out somewhere that would be fitting for an anniversary dinner and not a first date.

You fiddled with the bracelet wrapped around your wrist as you approached the host, ready for this night to be over already. Before you could even open your mouth to speak, however, your date himself appeared from around the corner, leaning over in a booth and waving at you.

“Hey, (Name)! Over here!” Mirio called. You had never seen him so happy.

You dragged your feet as you made your way over to him, sporting more of a grimace rather than a smile. Taking a quick look around, you noticed that the restaurant was fairly empty save for a few customers seated far away from where you were headed. You’re not sure if the place is always like this or Mirio had reserved this entire area.

“Wow! You’re looking lovely as ever, sunshine,” Mirio exclaimed when you finally reached his table. “Well, go on and take a seat!”

You sit down across from him, your leg starting to bounce once seated. Picking up the glass that had already been placed at your table, you take a sip of water to try and ease your nerves.

“Did you have any trouble finding this place? I chose somewhere less popular so you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing us together. I hope it’s private enough for ya!” Mirio said, taking a sip of his own glass.

“It was no trouble. And thanks…for accommodating me,” You said.

“I’m beyond stoked that you changed your mind and decided to give me a chance,” Mirio said, flagging down the waiter who just came out of the kitchen. “I promise I’ll make it a memorable night for you. For the both of us.”

You forced me to change my mind. You thought bitterly, choosing not to say anything in favor of having the night go smoothly and quickly. After the both of you order, Mirio tries to engage in some idle chatter. With your short and vague responses, however, it was hard for the conversation to turn into something meaningful.

There was one question on your mind, though. One that you should have asked earlier but never had the chance to. When the waiter brought out your food and left you two to enjoy the meal, you decided that now would be more of a good time than anything to ask him.

“Why exactly do you like me?” You questioned slowly, rubbing your forehead to quell the sudden drowsiness that you felt coming in full force. This night must be taking a bigger toll out of you than you thought it would. “Surely there are plenty of better options out there, so why choose me?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Name). You’re an amazing person, you just don’t see it yet.” Mirio encouraged, shooting you a soft smile that was meant to comfort. “Though I do admire that humility of yours! Just like I love your kindness and compassion. The world needs more people like you, sunshine. That’s why I have to try so hard to protect you.”

You had trouble focusing on Mirio’s words, too preoccupied with the fact that you felt dizzy now, like you’ve had one too many to drink even though the only thing you drank tonight was the…water…

No…

“Did…did you do something…to my drink?” You slurred, leaning against the cool wooden table to keep yourself upright. Fear was starting to take over your body as it began to tremble.

“It’s just a little something that will help you see that we’re meant to be together, sunshine,” Through your blurring vision, you could see that Mirio’s smile never wavered. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Go to sleep, okay? And when you wake up, everything will be better. I promise.”

Tears spilled out and slid down your cheeks as you tried to fight off whatever drug he had used on you, but you knew there was no point. It was inevitable. It always was. Your fate had been sealed when Lemillion first came to the cafe and laid his eyes on you.

As you drifted off to sleep, the last thing you could see was Mirio standing up from his seat, getting ready to escort you to God knows where.

* * *

You wake up with the worst headache you could imagine, in the comfiest bed you’ve ever laid in. Confused and groggy, you sit up and assess your surroundings. You’re now in an unfamiliar bedroom, one that was much bigger than your own and seemed to be decorated with you in mind. It was covered in your favorite color scheme and filled with your interests, all things that were eerily similar to the stuff found in your home. You wanted to get up and look around, but the minute you moved your leg, you felt a heavy weight on your ankle. It had been cuffed, with a long chain that was attached to the bedpost.

It was all coming back to you now.

Mirio had drugged you.

And you must be in his home.

Anxiety was starting to settle as the situation was dawning on you. This couldn’t be real. How could Mirio, a Pro Hero, commit such a criminal act? You supposed it was because he knew he could get away with it, but you never thought he would stoop to kidnapping.

You needed to get out of there, but no matter how hard you tugged on the chain, it wouldn’t budge. The cuff looked to be high tech, and needed some kind of special key for it to unlock. You’re sure Mirio’s got it on him, so there was no hope of getting the cuff off yourself.

The door handle started to jiggle as it was unlocked.

Speak of the devil.

In comes the blond-haired man you’ve come to despise, a bright beam on his face despite everything he’s done. His hands hold a tray carrying a glass of water and a plate of apple slices.

“Hey, you’re awake! You’ve been out for a while now, I was starting to get worried,” Mirio said, placing the tray down on the nightstand. “I’m sure your head must hurt, so I brought you some water to help.”

You couldn’t believe he was acting so nonchalant after abducting you. The last thing you wanted to do was drink water that was prepared by him. Fear and anger stirred inside you as you clenched the bedsheets in your fists.

“Mirio, this is insane. You know this isn’t right,” You started, scooting farther up on the bed when your captor sat down right next to you.

“Of course this is right, sunshine. I know you must be scared and confused right now, but you’ll understand eventually,” Mirio reached a hand forward to try and cup your cheek, but you jerked your head away.

“Don’t fucking touch me. You can’t just pretend this is okay and then expect me to play along,” You narrowed your eyes at him, but that hardly deterred Mirio’s smile. “I want you to let me go.”

The man sighed and let his hand drop back to his side. “I can’t do that, (Name). I brought you here so I can keep you safe. You have everything you need here and more! Doesn’t that sound great?”

 “You can’t be serious! You can’t keep me locked up here forever!” You shouted, losing your temper. You wanted to stay calm in this situation, but it was growing increasingly difficult to do so. “I have a life to return to! Please, Mirio, let me go!”

The blond moved closer to your form, resting his hand on your knee. Nothing you said seemed to waver him; he just kept that same stupid grin on his face as he continued to lean towards your face. You tried to back up, but your body was already against the headboard. 

Mirio stopped just inches from your face, saying, “Your life will be better now, sunshine. I promise to take good care of you, so don’t worry, okay?” You flinched when he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you so much, (Name). And you’ll realize someday that you need me as much as I need you.”

He patted your head then, before standing up and walking towards the door. “Rest up for a bit now, and then when you wake up, I’ll make us dinner. It can be whatever you want!”

When he left, you began to tug on the chain again out of panic and frustration, hot tears threatening to spill. Why did this have to happen to you of all people? You were just being nice and now look where it got you. Trapped in the home of some delusional hero who thought it was his job to personally protect you.

You glared daggers at the ankle cuff, hoping that if you stared hard enough, it would melt off. You wished you had never served Mirio when he came into the cafe that day. You wished people had listened to you when you told them that he was stalking you. You wished you had said no to his proposal and found another job. 

You were foolish to think all he wanted was one date.

Thanks for reading 💕💕 Comments and reblogs are always welcome! Hope ya'll have a good day or night

[hiro--aoki]

could you plz do 3- “why are you awake right now?” rosita x fem reader when they first get to alexandria

Always

Rosita X fem!reader angst prompt: “Why are you awake right now?”

A/N: I don’t know Spanish, I had to use google translate T-T. This is honestly probably out of character. I didn’t really focus on her when I watched the series the first two time but now I wanna rewatch it just for her. Ya’ll are converting me from Carl to Rosita. Please stop T-T. Also, this kinds turned into a fluff/comfort idk. I hope I pleased :3 <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Long restless nights. That’s all you’ve been having since you and the rest of your group’s arrival at Alexandria. Waking up, sweating, panting, and feeling like you’d fall into a deep pit at any moment. It was only the second night here when it started. It was only the second night here that made you realise how much you’ve had to suffer just to face the same dangers every day and not a guarantee that you’ll even make it another minute. And not only you but everyone else in your makeshift family.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You skin was shiny from the sweat and your hair was sticking to your face like glue. You trudged out of your room, and to the kitchen. Maybe some water would help. It won’t. You’ve been doing this exact routine for the past week. It never works, nothing does. It never stops and frankly, it’s taking its toll on you.

One person to notice this is Rosita. She’s noticed the way the usual sparkle in your eye has faded, how your laughter becomes more forced and how the bags under your eyes never fade. She notices every detail about you. It’s always been like that. If you ate a little less than usual to ration food, she’s offering hers to you. If you shiver the slightest while on a supply run, she’s offering you her jacket (if she even wore one, if not she’s got you in her arms). She always knows.

As you lean against the island in the kitchen, with your head in your hands, you hear her footsteps come down the stairs.

“Babe?” She asks, halfway down the stairs.

Your head jolts up and your tired eyes meet hers.

“Rosi, did I wake you?”

“No, but why are you awake right now?” She tilts her head slightly as she makes her way to where you are.

“Just…needed a drink.” You try to make an excuse that won’t worry her.

“Don’t lie to me.” She says sternly with softness hidden behind it.

She’s concerned, she always is. When it comes to you, she hates to see even the slightest inconvenience happen.

“It’s nothing, Rosi, I promise,” you assure her.

“It’s never nothing, y/n.”

Shit. She got you there. There’s always something. Whether it be good or bad, there’s always something. You don’t think you’ve had a mundane day in…years. You drop your head back down into your hands. She wraps her arms around you from behind.

“You can talk to me about anything y’know,’ She whispers.

“I know,” you whisper back meekly.

“Then talk to me about it.”

You fall silent, avoiding talking about how little sleep you’re getting, about how much you wish the old world. At least you have Rosita. She’ll never leave you, even if her life depended on it. Her soft hands gently grab your chin and turn you to her. She moves both her hands to your cheeks, and she presses her forehead against yours.

“Mi dulce chica, please tell me.”

She knows you love it when she calls you pet names in Spanish.

“I… I just keep having nightmares, it’s nothing important,” you say quietly, fighting the lump forming in your throat.

“Well, I’m here for you. Always. If you wanna talk about it…”

You shake your head softly. You aren’t ready to talk about it. It’s still all too fresh. The sight of your parents getting torn apart by those dead bastards, being on the brink of death so often. It’s not normal. You just wanted to feel safe. Rosita would be the one to bring you that secure feeling. She always is.

“Okay.” She thinks for a moment. “You wanna sleep in my bed tonight? Would that make you feel better?”

You nod as you move your head to the crook of her neck. She smiles softly at you as she starts to walk you both back up the stairs and to her room. She pushes open the door to her fairly boring room but that makes it easier to focus on her. Her soft caring eyes that only are seen by few people. Her soft touches, hidden by her tough demeanor. Her caring and comforting words that sound like a lullaby. She brings you to her bed which is surprisingly soft. You both lay down and she pulls you close to her. Your lack of sleep leaves you falling asleep almost as soon as she starts stroking your soft hair and whispering sweet things in your ear.

[your-local-hoemie]

Hi! Can i request childe and zhongli (seperate) coming home to his beloved overworked and slumped over her desk?

Omg I get to write geo papi :D watch me work my brain juices for ya!

Warnings: fluffffff, a tiny bit of angst in childes if you squint again because I can’t help myself, Concerned boys, not proof-read, established relationships, gn! Reader (I know you said “her” in the request but I wanna keep it gn for everyone’s enjoyment if that’s ok aaaaaa.)

Characters: Childe, Zhongli

No I didn’t get carried away hahaha….hah

···

Childe~

He doesn’t understand at first lmfao

Mans constantly working so like? Isn’t this normal??

Honestly you might be helping him stop for a bit too

Gets very concerned :(

Might think you’ve died for a split second

Once he realised you’re fine he’ll make sure you’re moved to a comfier place like the bed or couch

Try to protest. I dare you.

He’ll probably arrange for one of his subordinates to complete any work you had left just to make sure you can rest

I also dare anyone to protest against a harbinger for finishing your work :)

You had been assigned a bunch of documents from Yanfei to go over after being transferred to her for extra work experience in Liyue before officially graduating.

At first your couldn’t be more optimistic about the workload telling yourself that it’s all worth it in the long run after years of studying law!

That lasted maybe a good four days before the lack of sleep and neglect to eat and drink properly started kicking in.

Raising your head you looked up from the paperwork checking the time. 4:30am. Groaning you raked your fingers through your hair, dragging them down your face trying to keep yourself grounded.

But much to your dismay no matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes open and your head free of fatigue, your body decided to finally take charge and before you can even protest, your head lowered to the table as your heavy eyes finally closed and took the rest they needed.

Meanwhile your beloved boyfriend, childe. Eleventh of the fatui harbingers, had finally got home after endless hours of his own work as a “toy maker”. He never told you about his true occupation, always worried it would put you in harms way or make you scared of him.

Opening the door to your house, making his way up to your bedroom he didn’t actually expect to see you awake being so early in the morning so when he saw the bed untouched and you nowhere in sight he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a twinge of dread run down his spine.

“Babe? Where are you?”

Picking up his pace he’d hurry around the house opening each door, his bow appearing in his hand from anxiety.

Reaching the finally room of your home he swung the door open only to find you slumped over your desk surrounded by paperwork.

Almost running over to your side he dropped to his knee’s placing his hand on your back almost like you’d break under his touch he softly shook you taking comfort in feeling your soft, deep breaths under his touch.

“Hmm? Childe?”

Raising your head groggily you look at your boyfriend for a moment trying to piece together the situation while rubbing your still heavy, sleepy eyes.

“Archons Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack! Why aren’t you asleep In bed!?”

Giggling sleepily you tried your best to explain the situation all while still feeling the heavy pull of sleep in your body not noticing the soft, if not concerned smile appearing across his face.

Letting out a sigh he gathered you in his arms lifting you up with ease, he carried you to the bedroom placing you down on the bed before pulling you tightly into his arms kissing your forehead.

“No more work for you love”

You were pretty confused to later find out you somehow still managed to finish all the paperwork before passing out even though you swore there was still a pile to go through~

Zhongli~

Oh he already knew.

You thought you were slick? You fool.

From the moment he laid eyes on the workload given to you all the way to your first yawn

He knew

He’d try to make it easier on you, knowing your stubbornness

Brings you fruit and tea every so often

Don’t be surprised if you get a nice back massage too~

Once he thinks it’s gone on for far too long he will take action and there won’t be a damn thing you can do

He’s a ex god. Come on.

If he thinks you should rest then you’re gonna rest

To bed with you

Lots of cuddles and head pats! Maybe even humming if he thinks it’ll help you relax

He won’t do your work for you, he doesn’t have the heart to risk ruining your hard work but he will help you if you seem like you’re struggling!

Much to no one’s surprise, Hu Tao had ever so kindly managed to gather a ever increasing collection of complaints from the citizens of Liyue from her persistent shenanigans that you’d be hard pushed not to find at least a little disturbing, leaving you to deal with the mountain on papers to sort through.

The moment zhongli caught wind of what had been keeping you so occupied from your routine walk through the harbour he was irritated to say the least.

After having a word with Hu Tao that was borderline passive aggressive he immediately stopped by the market picking up the best fruit he could find (much to Childe’s dismay) along with your favourite snacks.

Meanwhile you had enclosed yourself in your office, pondering your life choices while using all the strength you had to stay focused.

How long has it been since you started? When was the last time you ate? Questions hardly noticeable floated around the back of your mind as you intently ignored the pangs in your stomach and the worsening migraine growing across your head.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you finish reading a particularly rude letter sent in only to turn the page over by chance just to see that the paragraphs contained on the other side.

Finally snapping under the stress you lay your head down in defeat on the desk, tears threatening to run from your eyes and soak the papers under your head as you feel your body take over and force you to close them at last.

It wasn’t too long before you woke up in a mild state of panic before noticing a plate of beautifully arranged fruit, a warm cup of tea sitting beside you and a blanket draped over your aching back.

“Ah, you have finally awoken. Forgive me dear but I couldn’t bring myself to wake you from your much needed slumber so I took the liberty to prepare you some food”

God I love writing his funky little words

“Zhongli? H-how long have you been there?? What time is it!?”

“Hush now. No need to get worked up over such trivial things, you still have plenty of time to continue your work but I must remind you that rest and recuperation is an essential part to such dealings”

With that you find him dragging a chair next to you. letting out a deep chuckle he turned you towards him gentle pushing your head down to his lap as his fingers stroked through strands of hair. (If you’re bald then just ignore this part💀)

“Rest for now my dear, I shall assist you in this mess when you have recovered”

Not daring to protest against his authoritative tone, you close your eyes feeling your body melt at his touch.

Maybe a little rest wouldn’t hurt after all~

Bruh writing in zhongli’s fancy words is so fun I feel so sophisticated *sticks pinkie out and sips tea*