#and i went with what was the most painful for ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dyingswanpavlova · 17 hours ago

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"Your girl" - Part 14 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: Life with him is really good...Right?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/gore/death, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities, loss of identity, threatening, penetration, breeding kink, degradation kink, cockwarming, edging, overstimulation, sleepy sex (both consent!), not beta-read, if I've missed any warnings or tags please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Life was good.

Uncharacteristically so even.

There was still a tiny part of you that was tense around him and that was for various reasons. One of them being, that you never really knew when his evil persona would take over. So far you could tell, albeit roughly, but there were always moments, when he would simply snap and there was nothing you could do about it. Was that a problem? Probably, but not to you, anyways. Why? Because life was good.

The little trip to the balcony hadn’t been a one-time thing. In fact, it happened more and more regular. Not only to get naughty, because he was a freak, who liked the thought of possibly getting caught – but also because, as he said, you’ve been such a good girl for me all this time. And I told you, sweet girl, I don’t want to keep you locked away. I just needed to make sure you’re mine.

That you were. Quite obviously.

That one time when you told him you wanted to leave, it had been exactly that. One time. The reasons for that outburst were in the past so far. There were still moments when you feared punishment and rightfully so. But to your great relief, you were both learning.

You were learning not to expect a painful blow, whenever you went out of your way to speak your mind (which wasn’t quite as often as you wished, but you were getting there). Slow and steady.

And he? He was learning, too. He was learning to leave you be and control the wild beast that lived inside his mind and soul. The darkness that surrounded him became lighter every day or so it felt to you. Of course he wouldn’t let you downright insult him, without at least some punishment in sight. But he was working on himself and his behavior. He didn’t hurt you without a reason. He didn’t hurt severely. And on some lucky days, he didn’t hurt you at all.

Slow and steady.

What was probably the greatest part of it all, it felt like a relationship. A real one. Two people who shared a life together, doing all kinds of things, sharing an intimate relation, but most importantly, you talked.

You talked a lot.

And now it wasn’t only through games and the fear of punishment. It wasn’t even only you who was forced to talk. No, he talked as well. The important things were still a big issue, obviously. He didn’t have a name, an identity or a past, when it came to you. But you had the great, undying hope that one day he would trust you. Trust you enough to let you know who he was and where he came from, what made him who he was and what was truly important to him.

Sometimes you’d get those tiny, little flickers that shone through his façade, his tight mask. The moments when the look in his eyes became faraway and distant, when his voice became softer and the tension in his body gave way to something quiet. Maybe one day that would be the version of him that you would get. Entirely and without question. Without the filter to rule out his emotions for him.

Until then, though, you would make do with what you had. And what did you have?

His favorite movie? The good, the bad and the ugly. What a question. Actually, anything with Clint Eastwood in it. Haven’t you seen the man?

His favorite musician? Ennio Morricone. Did you watch that scene in Inglourious Basterds, right before the Bear Jew comes out of the cave? That scene – and that composition – it’s reason enough to watch the movie. Aside from all the Nazis getting burned, of course.

His favorite food? Tteokbokki. But they have to be spicy enough to make your tongue fall off.

You smirked to yourself as you stood by the stove, slowly stirring the rice cakes in a black pan. He was talking movies all the time and that was a language you understood well.

In a minute you needed to add the spices and that disturbingly hot, red sauce. It was something you had cooked before, back in England. You had been scrolling aimlessly through one of your countless apps, which you normally used so you wouldn’t have to think and there you found some recipe that had been viral for a while. A Korean recipe with rice cakes in a sauce, topped with sesame and green onions. It had been quite the ordeal to find rice cakes back where you lived, but when you finally did and you tasted the recipe you had so carefully and lovingly prepared, you found it was worth it. It had actually been the first step into the life you were now living.

South-Korea, you had thought. Why not?

You poured the sauce in and wanted to try it, but decided against it in the end. You’d spend the next hour trying to soothe the pain in your mouth with bread and milk. With a soft sigh, you turned off the stove and served the food on two plates. You set the table with the gentle precision of a lovely homemaker. Even the napkins were folded prettily, giving the whole scene the last touch it needed to come off as…thoughtful.

Of course you never mentioned to him that you knew the dish. He had mostly likely thought it was just another Korean word he threw around and you’d forget immediately. And you had made no attempts to make him believe differently. So, when you began to cook this, it was with the intention to surprise him. A short glance at the clock showed you that it was almost ten in the evening, so he would most likely be home soon.

Home. What an odd thought.

You sighed again and washed your hands. A lecture you had to learn only once before in your life – spicy food didn’t quite match well with eyes.

You glanced around the kitchen once more, half-expecting him to be late. After he luckily gave you the books back, you asked yourself if you should go and read something, until he arrived, but that question answered itself, the moment you heard the door creak open. A nervous smile grew on your face and you nibbled on your lower lip. For some reason, a part of you was still afraid. A tiny bit, at least. It was like you expected him to punish you for good things. For being affectionate or caring.

But the moment you saw his head perk through the door, you knew you wouldn’t get punished tonight. Well, at least not, until you gave him a reason to…or asked him to.

His face lit up in surprised delight, his brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“Hello?” He murmured as he stepped closer and set the briefcase down on a chair. Your smile grew somewhat and you folded your hands behind your back.

“Hey.” You took a step closer and tilted your head to the side. “I made dinner.”

“I can see that.” He glanced at the lovely decorated kitchen table. You had put in quite some effort, looking through all the drawers until you found a tablecloth, lit some candles and then there was his favorite food. He looked from the table to you and smiled.

“And what exactly did I do to deserve this?” He raised a brow in suspicion. You returned the smile.

“I just felt like it.”

“So, you know Tteokbokki!”

You laughed quietly. “We’ll see about that. You should try it first.”

He hummed softly and stepped closer. You expected him to head for the sink and wash his hands, which he most definitely would, but before that, he stepped close to you, so close that you felt the warmth radiating off him and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Then your cheek and then your lips.

You closed eyes and leaned into the kiss, immediately aching for more. But a second later he pulled his head back and smiled again.

“I just know I’m going to love it. Thank you.”

You felt yourself blush and so you averted your gaze. He finished up getting ready and then pulled out your chair for you, like the gentleman he was, or well, he could be.

The both of you settled down and you kept a keen eye on him to check his reaction, the second he brought the fork to his lips. You half-expected him to recoil in disgust, but instead, his brows furrowed and he hummed in approval.

“This is perfect.”

You scoffed in amusement. “Stop bullshitting me.”

“No, I mean it. It’s perfectly spicy, just the way I like it. And it’s homemade. Do you know how much that me-“ He stopped himself and cleared his throat. The filter. “I really love it. Thank you.” He squeezed your hand under the table.

You smiled again and leaned back in your chair, taking a moment to simply watch him eat.

When he saw you were staring at him, he cocked a brow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Now it’s you bullshitting me, huh?”

That made you laugh. God, how beautiful this was. Just simple, plain banter. Back and forth, like normal couples shared. You loved it.

You loved him.

When you laughed, a cocky grin grew on his face. “Mhm. I still have it in me, don’t I?”

You smirked. “Oh, shut up. For an old man.”

His grin widened and he picked up the fork, bringing it to your lips. Wordlessly, you parted them and took the food in your mouth. It was painful, of course, but you tried to keep a strong façade. And failed.

He laughed and held out a glass with milk to you, of which you took a big, grateful sip.

“Why are you making it, if you can’t even eat it?”

“You like it.”

He hummed softly. “And you remembered.”

“It’s not that hard. I collect the few things I know about you like postage stamps.”

He snorted. “Oh, so now we collect stamps, do we?”

You grinned cheekily and gently nudged his shoulder. “Eat your abnormal spicy food and shush.”

He shot you another smirk and eyed you up and down for a moment. It left you feeling oddly comfortable.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled before he took another bite. Your brows shot up and you titled your head to the side. You were better now, when it came to this. Compliments and accepting them. After all, he had no reason to lie to you whatsoever, now, did he?

“Thank you. But why are you saying that?” Not as good as you thought, but better.

He brows furrowed. “And why wouldn��t I?”

You shrugged and he shot you a long, suspicious look. “I’m not taking it back.”

That made you laugh again. He sounded like petulant child and you loved him even more when he was like this. Just…easy.

Easy to love.

“Why are you laughing at me?” He joined your laughter.

You smirked and took another sip of your milk. “If you can’t tell, it’s already too late.”

Days passed, weeks even, and life was still good. Very much so.

Every now and then you would ask yourself, when will things take a dark turn again? You couldn’t help yourself. These first few weeks were stuck in your mind like a nightmare you hardly remembered and yet felt in every inch of your body. Even when you didn’t...

Your body remembered.

He had that in him. That dark, that evil. It would undoubtedly come out again at some point. That’s why you always tried to remind yourself, not to dive too deep into what you called your perfect world. At some point, you’d surely be in pain again.

Though, you had to admit, you were hardly in pain nowadays. Your mysterious man was a gentle man, when he wanted to be and that happened more and more these days. Whenever he came home, he’d make a habit of kissing you and asking you about your day. His smile came out, more and more often. On very rare occasions, when you got really lucky, you even heard him laugh. And not the mock-kind of laugh he’d have so well-rehearsed in his repertoire of masks, he had for the world to see, but the real kind. A sound so unbridled and genuine, so warm and endearing, it made something inside of you ache. Why was it so rare?

Of course he still hurt you sometimes, but that was more of a consented kind of thing. In most cases.

Whenever he decided it was time for you to cockwarm him, for example. God, you hated, when he did. Because you loved it.

You loved the feeling of having him inside you on any occasion, really. Sometimes he’d be reading the newspaper and have you on his lap, his free hand on your hip to hold you perfectly still. You always asked yourself, how on earth did he manage to read like that, without even cocking an eye brow, while you were nearly fainting in agony, because all you wanted was for him to move?

On other nights, and you were ashamed to admit how much you enjoyed it, you’d even sleep like that. You’d lay either facing away or facing him, but often clenched around him. He’d nuzzle his face in your hair and after a while he’d usually drift off like that, his breathing slowly soothing down to a soft sound. Sometimes, when he’d wake up in the middle of the night, you felt him move and grind his hips against yours, giving you the friction you so desperately desired. Sometimes it happened quickly, sometimes it took a few hours and sometimes it didn’t happen at all. But when it did and when it did take hours to get to that point, you’d normally be half-asleep and yet desperate. The second you felt him move inside you, it was as though a switch got flipped. You became needy and…

Wicked.

For you, it didn’t matter how many times he fucked you. How many times he made you cum. When you felt him like that, you needed him. Ardently.

But in most cases you managed to be good for him, just like he asked you to. Good and perfectly still. When you did, you got rewarded. Which, in most cases, consisted of him going down on you and making you feel things with his tongue that made your toes curl and your breath stutter. He made you cum so good that you nearly forgot your own name.

At times, you did forget it. But odd enough, you didn’t really miss it. Names weren’t important. Not with him.

And then there were those other times. The times, when you got too needy, too desperate and, despite your better will, you found yourself moving against him, desperate for any kind of friction. That was when you got punished still.

Sometimes with a firm slap to get you back on track. That wasn’t enough to make you forget about your need for him though. Normally, you’d just fall back into the same pattern, given enough time. And after a while, he got more creative with his punishments. When he realized that pain was something that you were rather immune to, compared to other things, you were fucked.

Quite literally.

When you moved and disobeyed his orders not to…

He fucked you. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not at all, actually.

That was until…

You came. You came every time with him, which was something you had highly doubted, before you started this thing between you. But to your surprise, you were more than relaxed with him. And so you came.

But he didn’t stop there. No, it was a punishment after all, right?

So, he kept fucking into you, like a feral animal. Even after you came and the pleasure quickly shifted into overstimulation. You got so sensitive, it was close to painful. But he kept going.

And then, oh God, you’d come again. Of course you did. He was good at what he was doing. You came again, shuddering and gasping.

And he still wouldn’t stop.

Even when your body arched into the air and you tried to get away from him, all desperate, he’d continue fucking you, until your mind was a mess and all you could do was stutter and whimper, cry even.

It was one of his favorite ways to punish you.

When he didn’t keep you on edge or withdrew your release for the time being, he made you cum until you begged him to stop, sobbing and whimpering.

Oh, the crying turned him on, you could tell. Because it normally ended with him filling you up to the brim. And then he’d go back to sleep, wouldn’t he? With his length still buried deep inside to keep warm.

Let’s just hope you learned your lesson now, darling. I’d hate to punish you again.

He had done exactly that the night before and so you found yourself lying on the sofa, feeling sore and exhausted. When he came home that night, you were still passed out on the couch, too sleepy to even open your eyes. He regarded your broken frame with a warm, yet subtle smile and set his briefcase down. He took a few slow steps closer and watched over you for a long moment, before he reached for the nearby blanket and pulled it up to your shoulders. You weren’t really fast asleep, just somewhere in-between, so you felt his knuckles gently caress your cheek. You mumbled something in response and you heard the way he smiled, before he vanished to the bathroom and you heard the way the water got turned on.

After a while you slowly blinked your eyes open and yawned. When you saw the blanket, a smile crept onto your face and you hugged the material tightly to your body. Slowly and carefully, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, before you decided to try and cook something for a change. You got better and better at it, considering how little you knew about the Korean cuisine. Yet you had to admit, it seemed healthier than anything you had ever eaten back home.

When you couldn’t think of anything, you decided to be safe and went for Bibimbap. It was a mixture of near everything and also the fastest thing you could think of. But before you even started, you went back to your room to grab a claw clip for your hair. You swiftly did it up and made your way through the hallway, when you saw that the door to his bedroom stood open. You saw his white shirt splayed out on the bed and you just knew it smelled like him. You bit your lip as you slowly tiptoed inside and picked the shirt up, only to bury your face in the material and inhale softly.

If this wasn’t home, what would ever be?

You hummed softly to yourself, before you swiftly slid off your caramel colored skirt and your black tank top, to put his button down shirt on instead. The material hugged your body like a gentle hug and you smiled to yourself as you rolled the sleeves up in the way he would. Of course the shirt looked fairly huge on you. You took a long glance at the big mirror and smirked. It looked like a dress on you, albeit a short one. You twirled around like a ballerina and took in the way your thighs were barely covered by the material. That gave you a wicked idea.

Of course your body was begging you to leave it be, especially after last night, but the devil inside your mind forced you to keep the shirt on and make your way back to the kitchen.

In the meantime, he had finished his shower and now he sat on the couch, with the newspaper in his hand. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants (the damned bastard) and a black shirt. His hair was still damp and hung loosely into his face. He looked delicious.

When he heard you approach, he looked up, ready to greet you, when he hesitated. His gaze roamed up and down your body in a way that made you bite back a smirk.

“Hello, darling.” He murmured, without ever looking up at your face.

“Why, hello.” You purred cheerfully and approached him with slow, tiptoed steps. His gaze wandered up your legs and torso, until he finally met your gaze.

“You look…”

“I thought it suits me better than you.” You teased.

His lips curved up into a slow smile. “I can’t disagree.” He took your hand, ready to pull you onto his lap. But after last night, you felt in dire need to take some action and control.

Not, that you didn’t somehow enjoy it. But still.

You briefly squeezed his hand, before you pulled yours away. You gave him a quick peck on the lips, then took a step back.

“I’ll go cook.”

His brows shot up. “I can-“

“No.”

You hid your smirk, until you had your back facing him. With quick, measured steps, you disappeared into the kitchen, all the while pretending not to hear his frustrated groan.

The next few minutes went by rather quickly. You did a great job cooking up some ingredients and even an egg, Sunny Side Up. You quickly set the table and eventually left some rice on the stove, to slowly simmer. With a soft, exaggerated sigh you made your way back to the living room.

“It’s almost done.” You murmured as you slowly approached him. When you looked at him, you deliberately missed his face and his expression became more and more dour.

“Good. I was thinking-“

“I nearly finished my book.” You interrupted him in a sweet voice, as you sat down on his lap, causing him to freeze for a moment. It only took him a second to relax, though he seemed to have forgotten that you had interrupted him and what he even intended to say in the first place.

“That’s…good.” He murmured.

“Just two more pages. I’ll finish it quickly, before dinner, okay?”

He cocked a brow and shrugged slowly. “Sure. Suit yourself.”

His shirt rode up your thighs and revealed more and more of your skin to his gaze. He didn’t even try to be secretive about it, he was straight-up ogling you. All the while you buried your nose in your book, without reading a single word. You had to save up all your energy as not to smile.

His fingertips brushed over the skin of your thigh and you did your best to keep your expression neutral. And he, he was just…

“Are you-“

“Oh God, I didn’t see that twist coming.” You closed the book and sighed. Then you shot him an innocent look and smiled. “That was a really good book.”

You leaned back against his chest and kept up your innocent façade, all the while the look in his eyes equaled that of a bear with his fish.

“You really-“

“I’d better go and get myself another one. I’m sure the rice needs a few more minutes.”

His hand ended up in the middle of the air, while you practically jumped off of his lap. He let out a soft grunt of frustration, while you slowly swayed your way back to the bookshelf. Of course your hips swayed along and obviously his gaze did the same.

You held a finger against your lips, pretending to think, while you slowly went about the rows and rows of books. And then, what a coincidence, a book in the last row caught your attention. You smiled and bent down, pretending to read.

At the same time, his patience snapped. When his shirt rode up further, exposing just a hint of your rear to him, he let out a low growl.

“That’s enough.” He hissed. You smirked, before you slowly turned and replaced the smirk with innocent surprise.

“What? What’s enough?”

“Oh, stop this.” He slammed the newspaper down on the coffee table and stood up in a swift movement. “Stop acting all innocent. You’ve been parading around here, half-naked and ready to…”

“To what?” You murmured and tilted your head to the side in feigned curiosity. He growled again and ran a hand over his chin. Only then did you see the obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. It cost you half your life not to look down there and trust your peripheral view.

“Don’t play dumb.” He murmured. “Get over here. Now.”

You licked your lips. “But the rice-“

“Now!”

That made you laugh and there went your innocent act out of the window.

“You minx! You’re doing this on purpose!”

You chuckled. “Well…”

The look on his face was near rabid. Only the foam was missing.

“I’ll forgive you this once, if you’ll be a good girl for me and get your ass over here.”

You smirked and took a step back, circling the sofa. “And if I don’t?

He hissed in response. “You don’t want to test me today.”

And for some inexplicable reason, right then and there, you weren’t scared. That tiny part of your brain that had continued to keep up the fear, albeit briefly and barely, was completely silent. And you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, no matter what you did.

“Make me then.”

His eyes widened and he tilted his chin up. “Oh, that’s a mistake.”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s a mistake.” You mocked his voice.

With a movement so quick that it almost made you wince, he jumped over the back of the couch and stood before you, eyeing you like a predator. You let out a soft shriek and turned on your heel, running and laughing, without looking over your shoulder.

It took him only a second to put his hand on your shoulder, but it took you only a second to shrug him off and circle the coffee table.

“That all you got, old man?”

You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch, but that would have been too easy. He tried hard to keep his expression serious.

“Grew a backbone, did you?”

You raised a brow and smirked. “Oh, boo-hoo. Did I hurt you, oppa?” You hinted a mocking curtsy.

“Oh, you just wait!” He rushed to catch you from one side, but you quickly ran the other way. When he tried the other way, you went the other way, yet again. He gave a frustrated growl.

“What now, hm?” You smirked. “Giving up already?”

He gave you a long, wild look. For a moment you almost thought he was indeed giving up, but then he rushed forward and kicked the table out of the way. It rolled over and crashed against the wall loudly. Your eyes widened in surprise and you took a step back, but before you knew it, your back was already pressed against the wall and you had to tilt your head back to stare up at him.

“You caught me.” You whispered.

He clenched his jaw and reached out a hand. You were sure. You were still sure, that you were safe.

And then…

His hand slowly tangled in your hair and gently grasped the back of your neck. He leaned down so that your lips nearly met.

“I caught you.” He whispered back, before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

And you let the rice burn.

A few days later, you couldn’t even tell which day it was, because every day was but a collection of memories you kept replaying in your head, he was off to work.

And to no one’s great surprise, you missed him.

Every waking moment without him was empty. The emptiness was so intense, it left you nearly suffocating. All the while, all you could do was wait. Wait and eat. Wait and sleep. Wait and read.

Sometimes, you wrote. You remembered that one time you told him about your greatest dream.

To become an author one day. You didn’t even care, if anyone knew your real name, you just wanted to touch people with your words. Like the Bronte-sisters.

Ellis Bell, huh? And who would you be?

Hana, maybe. The thought made you equally as sad as it filled you with hope.

But that was about all you did. And after hours and hours, the day neared its end. Eventually it was far past eleven, so you were sure he would be late tonight. Of course you were concerned. As you always were. You had no idea what his job was, but you could tell it was dangerous.

The man in his clean suit and a briefcase full of secrets.

When it got closer to midnight and he still wasn’t back, you decided to distract yourself, by getting yourself ready. You changed into a beautiful, white negligee with a neckline made of pretty, see-through lace. You loved it. The silk made you feel like you were the most beautiful girl on earth. And you were sure, once he saw you in it, he would totally destroy it. Chew it off or tear it down, whatever worked faster.

You did your hair down (it was slowly growing back and you barely thought back to the dreadful day that he cut it) and took a last glance at your appearance in the mirror. You smiled at yourself, something you rarely did, and eventually made your way back to his bedroom to surprise him. On his bed, wearing nothing but the negligee and a pair of…

Where were the handcuffs? You frowned as you glanced around and didn’t immediately find them. You bent down to look under the bed, but still no cuffs in sight. Your frown deepened and you gave another quick onceover, before you decided that they most likely were in the wardrobe.

You opened it and knelt down, finding the knife and several guns in the process. The small shudder brought you back to reality and you exhaled softly, before you sat back and looked at the countless weapons. Had he ever killed someone with them? Most likely.

But for a strange, inexplicable reason, you didn’t really care. Not really. Because it wasn’t real. Not then, not there, not in that moment. What was real, was him and his…

Desires.

You opened your mouth and closed it, before your fingers slowly closed around a small handgun. You swallowed thickly and carefully held it up, only to realize it was far heavier than you always assumed. The material felt cold and wrong in your hand.

Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the day he pressed one of them against your temple or…his. You closed your eyes. The thought of him…

Him…

With a shuddery gasp, the gun slipped through your fingers and landed on the carpet.

There was no thought more painful than that one. You couldn’t lose him. Not ever.

You loved him. And you loved him far too much.

Enough, to be what he wanted.

Enough, to give in to his desires.

You took another deep breath and picked up the gun again, determined to take it back to bed with you. You wanted to surprise him, right?

All you had to do beforehand was to make sure that it wasn’t loaded.

A frown formed on your face, when you realized you didn’t even know how to do that. The thought of accidentally shooting yourself, while waiting for him to come home…It didn’t sound all too appealing, though it did sound like something that could happen to you.

You sighed and already gave up the thought of ever finding the cuffs, when you caught sight of something else instead. It was far in the back of the wardrobe and you were sure, for some reason, you weren’t supposed to see it.

Of course you weren’t supposed to touch his gun, either, but you felt he would forgive you, once he realized you were slowly submitting to his every desire.

Even if it meant him fucking you, while he held a gun to your head. In your mouth…Or, God help you, somewhere else.

You were twisted. You were sure you were. Because you felt it. You felt how the thought did things to you.

But for now you tried to push the thought aside and instead glanced back at the box.

Then again, what terrible thing could be inside there?

Someone’s teeth maybe?

Your soft smile disappeared the second you realized it was possible. You nearly recoiled in disgust. But then you realized, you had to know.

It couldn’t be teeth. It was too sick. Too deranged.

Too…him?

No. No, no, no.

As if in a trance, you picked up the light, wooden box and took off the lid.

No teeth inside. Only…

Fuck.

What was in there was so much worse than teeth.

Your forehead creased into a small frown, which grew further with every second.

And suddenly you felt nauseous.

No.

Oh, no.

You nearly dropped the box and backed away like you’d been struck, the moment you heard it.

“Goddamn it." He sighed impatiently and the door slowly closed behind him. "You weren’t supposed to see that.”

___________________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: Did I lately mention that I love you, guys?

Ps. The Tteokbokki and the teasing were anon requests! I loved them and I hope I did them justice!

453 notes · View notes

bywonyo · 2 days ago

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❪ TAKE A BITE ❫ ──────── feel the bite between my jaw , so tasty .

CUPRINS ❜ you let your favorite patient take a bite.

❪ ジェイク ❫ & f ! r ༒︎ 1OOO vampire au suggestive fluff yearning secret relationship ──警告 skinship blood kissing petnames (doll, baby)　�� MUZEU ❜

愛´ཀ` ⦂ this is for my pretty lou hehehe ˊᗜˋ i will never get over vampie jake.. i went a tad bit insane writing this so please ignore all the grammar mistakes !

explaining your relationship with jake would be difficult. you were both at a remote hospital, jake being one of the few patients and you being his docter. desperate for a job, you applied for the suspicious job but you were unaware of the emotional rollercoaster that awaited you. what began as a regular job shifted into a dirty secret, a secret that no one could ever know.

you tiptoed carefully to avoid any noise, scanning around to check that there weren't any other employees. you always took the night shift, earning admiration from everyone. yet, beneath your sweet face, you had an odd routine at night.

you felt a fleeting pang of guilt for doing something so wrong, yet the thrill captivated you. sneaking into jake’s room at night, the sweet, hungry kiss he’d reward you with after he had a sip from the blood pack, and most of all, the electric feeling of his hand on your shivering skin.

you arrived at jake's room, clutching the blood pack tightly and slowly opened the creaking door. the sight before you made your chest tighten at jake looking so pale, looking as if the life had drained from him due to the lack of blood.

( ´ཀ` more under cut. )

you approached him, prompting him to sit up as you brought the blood to his lips. normally, he would eagerly drink it the moment it touched his lips, but today he remained still, refusing to take even a single sip — as if lost in thought.

“did i get the wrong type? i’ll head back,” you say, turning away from jake. as you walk off, a hand suddenly grasp’s your wrist, halting your steps and leaving you puzzled at jake’s random act.

jake gazes deep into your eyes, the room enveloping in silence. his lack of words only deepens your confusion, wondering what he wanted and what thoughts linger behind his gaze.

his pleading puppy eyes sparkled with desperation, making your knees tremble slightly. his sultry gaze then drifted down to your neck, and in that moment, everything clicked into place. the realization dawning that this was more than just a fleeting glance between you two.

your breath hitched as jake brought his large hand to your hair, delicately toying with the strands while his gaze remained fixed on your eyes, leaving your words stuck to your throat.

you brush your hair aside, revealing more of your bare neck. the moment your skin exposed, jake's thoughts spiral into chaos, overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of your sweet blood.

an intense urge to pounce on you overwhelms him from the scent, a powerful desire swelling in his chest. he struggles to restrain himself, his hands clutching the bedsheets as he fights against his dangerous urge, taking a deep breath.

“doll, don’t do that, please..” he murmurs, his thoughts swirling into emptiness as he feels himself falling apart, each second pulling him further from self-control. “go, please go,” he manages to mutter, feeling his fangs elongate. he bites down on his bottom lip to restrain himself, blood trickling from his soft lips — his struggle intensifing as temptation rises.

“jake, look at me.” after a few seconds, he slowly opens his eyes and meets your gaze. you gently wipe the blood from his lips with your thumb, causing him to hiss in pain from the sting of your touch, but he maintains his focus on you.

“take a bite.” his eyes widen in disbelief, revealing his sharp fangs as he parts his lips. “doll, it’ll hurt, don’t say that,” he warns, struggling to suppress the overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into your bare neck, his body burning with restraint.

“i’ve decided, jake, please…” you murmured in his ear, your warm breath intensifying his desire. his lips quivered, repeating desperate pleas for permission, each word dripping with need. the tension between you grew, electric and undeniable, as he waited for your next move.

you pull jake closer, his fangs sharpening as he inhaled the intoxicating aroma of your blood, the warmth of your neck inviting him to indulge in his instincts, yet he still hesitated.

as your lips brushed against him, he finally processed your desire for him, your need for his touch. with tenderness, he lifted you, gently laying you down on the hospital bed, a silent promise echoing in the space between you both.

his hand reaches for your smaller one, holding it tightly as he delicately brushes your hair aside further. the sight of your bare neck sending a shiver down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

he admires you, patiently waiting like a desperate puppy eager to cherish the moment. his gaze is fixed on you, moving slowly from your eyes to your waist, filled with longing, as he savors every second spent in your presence — addicted to you like a drug. he treats you like a porcelain doll, making you drown in his dulcet touch.

he takes a deep breath as he immediately connects his fangs to your bare neck, his plump lips brushing against your hot skin.

he bites down, gripping your hand tightly, in empathy for your pain-filled whimper. he delicately strokes your hair, life surging back into his veins, his energy rising while your’s wanes. concern fills jake's gaze as he watches you intently, swallowing your sweet blood.

he lets go of your neck, quickly checking your condition, his soft gaze observing every detail of your face. cupping your cheeks, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead as you exhale weakly, exhausted as the feeling of the fatigue of your weakened body wash over you.

“you did so well for me, doll..." he gently guides your body to rest atop his, your face nestling against his collarbone, feeling his warmth envelop you like a warm blanket.

he gently pulls you in for a hungry kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist to support you as he seats you on his lap. he chuckles at your near stumble backward, assuring you with a warm smile, his fangs slightly stained with red. “relax for me, baby. i got you”

【 reblogs ˊᗜˋ feedback pls ! taglist is open 】

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genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago

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coming out as a trans man saved my life.

i was so fucking depressed before i found out what the concept of transgenderism was. forced on to estrogen & progesterone as an intersex teenager to try to "fix" my intersex variation, i was the most miserable i had ever been in my life. changes were happening to my body that i didn't want. i was a miserable wreck who hated my body, hated how i sounded, hated how people saw and addressed me, hated the expectations people placed on my body... everything. i felt like a stranger in my own body. i felt like i was speaking with someone else's voice. everything felt wrong. i was constantly uncomfortable, ready to claw my skin off at any moment. a deep, agonizing, howling pain right in my fucking soul that i couldn't soothe no matter what i did.

finding out that i wasn't forced to stay trapped in my body the way it was, and that i wasn't obligated to continue being addressed by terms that made me feel like i was dying inside literally gave me a new lease on life. i went from hating literally everything to suddenly buzzing with energy, realizing that i could take my life into my hands and change it for the better. for the first time in my entire life, i had hope for the future. the prospect of starting testosterone HRT and stopping the estrogen/prog ... it gave me a rush of emotions unlike anything else i had ever felt. hormones i actually wanted. changes to my body i actually wanted. i felt ALIVE. i saw something i actually wanted deep in my heart and soul for the first time in my life and i reached out and i grabbed it as fast and as hard as i could. and i never let go.

i had something to look forward to. i could finally let my facial hair grow out without judgment. i could finally dress the way i wanted to. i could finally use names and pronouns that felt like mine. yes you can do these things as a cis woman- but that wasn't working for me. pretending that i was "cis"- a dubious concept for myself as an intersex person- no longer worked for me. i couldn't keep up the lie anymore. and not having to felt like throwing off a heavy blanket that was smothering me.

i finally saw light. i could finally breathe. i finally felt like i was in my own body. trans manhood is liberating. trans manhood is empowering. trans manhood is fulfilling. trans manhood is an act of creation, bringing your life and your body and your mind into your hands and doing what you know is right for you. i will never feel shame for this part of myself. it literally saved my life. and if you're a trans man, too, coming out or acknowledging it can save you too. trans manhood is a blessing. don't you ever let anyone tell you it is anything else but that.

i will never go back into the closet.

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lyrenminth · 3 days ago

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The best example

Fluff. Comforting Joe.

What you most feared was a reality, and you didn't know what to feel precisely.

You were numb, but something in the back of your mind was bothering you and if you closed your eyes, you could tell.

You weren't good enough.

You tried your best and failed in the process and now you couldn't stop overthinking every single thing you did in the past six months. What went wrong? Why it wasn't enough? Did you spent more time doing other things? Or you didn't have the same capacities as before?

You opened the chat with Joe, and read again the message he sent you in the morning.

"You're gonna get it, don't worry baby. I'm super proud"

You eyes started to fill with tears, and you couldn't read the message anymore. You let out a sob and sat on the couch, with your head between your hands, feeling the waves of pain and disappointment for yourself.

Why you weren't enough? What were going to do now? You thought about all the sleepless night that you spent studying, the games you missed and the events you skipped, and for what? The letter you received in the morning was simple and professional. Since you read the first words your stomach churned.

"We are sorry to inform you that..."

You weren't good enough. You weren't good enough and it hurt like hell.

You didn't want to call Joe or anyone. Instead you turn off your phone and stared at the wall until you eyelids were heavy.

"Love" you felt something brushing your cheeks. "Wake up"

You stirred awake, gentle blue eyes keep staring at you with curiosity and worry. The face of your husband was close to you, and for a moment you didn't thought about anything.

"Did you turn off your phone?" he asked, softly.

He knew. Oh, God he knew. Then, the rejection came back in full force, your chin quivered and you tried to hold back the tears.

"Joe" you whispered "I didn't..." you shook your head, insecure about what to say.

"Ssh, baby it's okay" he said, sitting down and pulling you across his lap, as if you were a child. His strong arms held your back, hugging you. "It's okay" he kissed your forehead and it was unusual for him to be this soft, but you needed it.

You cried, ugly crying. Nose dripping and sobbing uncontrollably type of crying. It made you feel ridiculous, but you couldn't stop.

"I really really want it, Joe" you spoke, "I try so hard and f-fell sh-short" you sobbed, hiding your face of the curve of his neck.

"I know, baby" his lips brushing your forehead once again. "It fucking sucks" you explained, the hiccup starting.

"I'm here, it's okay" he reassures once again. You soothe under his touch, suddenly aware where his hands were, over your thigh, gently rubbing, the other on your back making circles. Slowly, you breathing even out and you could feel the tension leaving your body. Joe's warm chest help you with that too. "You're the most intelligent woman I know, don't let a bad moment erase all you have done" he said.

"How do you do it?" you asked, your voice raspy and weak.

"What?"

"You're are a professional athlete, you try hard and sometimes you lose, I know you and I know that you dislike losing and makes you angry, but what do you think?" Joe fell silent for a few minutes, considering his answer. His voice more personal when he spoke again.

"You have the right to feel like shit" he replied his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. "But shouldn't be forever. Your life shouldn't be defined for a mistake or a fail, not if you didn't hurt anyone" he clarified. "I think that I will have the chances to make it right even if the first time didn't work as I wanted. I think about the things I can improve so next time it's less hard. My mistakes don't define every outcome of my life but sure help me to change the results"

You thought about it. Joe was always under pressure because of his profession, and he handled everything beautifully most of the times. You have seen his lows and highs, so you had a great example to follow.

"Thank you, Joe" you said, and gave him a peck.

"You're going to be fine, not now but soon" he told you, and you nodded. You believed it too.

There, in is his arms everything seemed easier.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #fanfiction #joe burrow fan fic

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hitlikehammers · 3 days ago

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that tune without the words

“It was nice, walking through those woods, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another line item for Eddie’s getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—but then his tone’s turning sorta wry: “Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.” 💕

rating: t ♥️ cw: mid-S4, Vol2, steve goes back for eddie’s ‘body’, interdimensional bat venom can be a hell of an paralytic inconvenience ♥️ tags: eddie munson lives (to go on a date that’s not walking through dead hell-forests 🎉), steve harrington having a one-sided/unfiltered heart-to-heart with the cute boy who carved his probable bisexuality indelibly intonstone 💎 (no biggie), an over abundance of flirting in times of mortal peril, planning a future in an actively crumbling hellscape=(soon-to-be)couple goals, happy ending (and hopeful ending, too!)

for @steddielovemonth day two: "if you're lost, you can look and you will find me // if you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting" —Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

title credit here🪶

When they tangled with Vecna, Eddie’s body gets left behind. Sure, yes, they all know the timeline, the logistics, how the story goes. The gates seal. Supergirl goes nuclear. They kinda-half-lose. The town’s a fucking mess. They gotta lick their wounds.

But the in-between bits get hazy, see.

Specifically when Steve went AWOL and ran back, jumped through the closing gate he’d just barely managed to climb up through in the first place, given the extent of his wounds, and runs for the body they abandoned because he doesn’t leave his people behind.

And somehow in just a couple days, Eddie counted as his people. Even just his body.

The strength, the speed, the stamina to not have been stuck in the Upside Down, to not have dropped the dead weight in the way back up, to not have got suctioned in and crushed in half as the fissures crept closed: that’s the fucking stuff of legends, of parents lifting trucks off pinned children. No wonder they call Steve the mom.

But yeah. Eddie’s body’s left behind.

For like…ten minutes, max.

Then Steve fucking Harrington had to be all Steve fucking Harrington about it, say fuck that, and weigh the risk of two dead bodies as sufficient collateral to leap like it was a fucking two-for-one at Melvald’s.

Bastard made it back, too. Bloody as fuck, everything that’d healed even a little bit torn at least twice as wide in breaking back open; three extra broken bones, with at least on being a rib that there’s genuine concern over puncturing a lung with one more wrong move—and a likely one, given the evidence thus far.

And also, there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s breathing, who they don’t know until later whether Steve managed to somehow resuscitate, or if the powers that govern the hellscape zapped him back for nefarious reasons, or maybe they’d all just…fucked up and missed that Eddie wasn’t even all-dead in the first place.

Details, remember. The in-between parts got real hazy.

Eddie knew the truth form the get-go, though.

Having to witness Henderson fall apart, draped across him was maybe the most harrowing thing eddie has ever had to live through—but the point was, he did live through it. Everything was foggy, and he felt like his world was blinking too long in between knowing it was still there, like reality and his place in it were too close to sleep to be rooted, to be trusted, to be sure at all that it would last and that his shitty attempts to get any air in weren’t just painful acts of desperation to delay the inevitable.

But then there had been lips on his lips, and he’d tasted his own blood there but then more blood, other blood.

And his lungs were blissfully full for the first time in what felt like eons.

He wants to turn to find out who’s there, whose mouth had just spared him in his torment for even a few extra moments before the end, but he—

He can’t fucking move. He hadn’t realized that part before—oxygen deprivation, hell of a distraction apparently—but now that he clocks it?

That lungful of air’s gasping out fast as fuck as eddie panic because what’s happening what is happening—

What’s happening is that mouth on his again, giving him back the breath he’s foolishly wasting on panic, coupled with a too-broad hand, palm braced at his chest and fingers curled up his shoulder: firm. Steadying.

“Poison,” a voice says low, close to him enough that eddie thinks he maybe feel warmth from it but he’s not sure, he’s not sure what he does and does not feel and that’s most of the fucking terror: “in the venom. My legs were numb as fuck after, the went too deep at the core and it just fanned out, couldn’t feel a fucking thing but the pain til we got supplies.”

The hand moves fuller to his chest like it’s testing something, then the lips are back, filling up his lungs, like someone who knows how this works, who’s done it before—

A lifeguard would know. Would have done it before and…

Okay, like, Eddie didn’t spend most of every summer the past handful of years in a carefully disguised little copse of shadey trees near enough to keep the community pool in his sights because he was planning to get in the water, y’know?

“But then it felt like there wasn’t enough air when I tried to breathe deep, way worse than my legs, like from,” and he touches Eddie’s neck, then, where the bats barely got him by comparison to…other places so Eddie thinks—with the newly-restored moments of oxygen to his brain cells—Steve’s talking about his suspicious noose-shaped souvenir.

Eddie wants to be able to see, wants to see and know with all his sense that this is steve: touching him and coming back for him and saving him and—

“You’re still breathing,” and shit, it’s like Eddie’s prayers are answered without a god believed in, his fucking lucky day, because Steve’s leaning and holding still so the his cheek under Eddie’s nose, and the bow of his lips just at the corner of Eddie’s mouth, gasping out his assessment when the hint of damp the exhale gathers on his skin, all with a kind of relief that feels…too big, really. Like Eddie can’t possibly deserve that. They barely know each other.

But fuck if Eddie—who was very much banking of giving up the goddamn ghost down here just a couple minute prior, especially once everyone had left and he was just staring at the red lightning waiting to be struck down for good—but fuck if Eddie is gonna pretend he doesn’t want to deserve that care and relief, to merit and earn it for himself, specifically from Steve, especially the Steve he’s gotten to know in the last seventy-two hours. All the shit about crisis revealing a persons true nature?

Sign Eddie the fuck up for a) all of Steve Harrington and his truest true nature as well as b) the sworn duty of keeping this far too tightly wound paladin barbarian crossbreed marvel of a specimen from any more crises, and ensuring the opposite instead, maybe like, holding him close. Kissing his neck. Falling asleep in each other’s arms. More…stuff like that.

Time probably moves faster the vacuum of real actual Armageddon, so. He probably can shrug off the ‘barely know each other’ stuff.

His heart’s doing a little floppy-floppy thing with Steve’s mouth still so close; with knowing Steve’s mouth had been closer, so. Yeah. He’s sold, 100% on board. Bring him the dotted line, he’ll be Mrs. Harrington by morning.

Or…evening? It’s just fucking dark here, he doesn’t even remember what day it is.

“Too much,” and Steve’s not moving form where he’s gauging—presumably—Eddie’s breaths at the source, whispering and so, so close as he waggles his hand around; “before, but,” and Eddie gets it quick: too much commotion. To much hysteria, and more than merited, but Dustin’s sobbing? Robin’s shaking, Nancy’s armor-grip on her gun making trying to measure a pulse less than worthless and Steve…Steve has getting them the fuck out before the gates closed, Eddie remembers hearing that—which begs the question of why he’s here again bow, but one thing at a time.

The one thing Eddie wants to focus on is Steve thought to come back at all, and thought it not inpossible to find him alive and not-yet-but-still-eventually-capable-of-kicking, because the bats had numbed him to fuck, too.

And he hadn’t told anyone, Jesus fuck—this man, and giving more shirts about him already than Eddie’s maybe given for anyone, is gonna be what actually manages to put him six feet in the goddamn ground.

“I had a feeling,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t have to try and fail to turn to see the triumphant smirk he’s pulling, still relieved but like, vindicated now, too.

“And even if I didn’t,” he sobers quick; “I wasn’t leaving you here.” And Eddie wouldn’t stilled if he was capable of moving in the first place because…yeah, he’s basically figured he was being left here. Was pretty much solidly on his way to making his peace with it too when feet landed close to his knees and lips closed over his own and the rest is…

Is now. Where Steve Harrington doesn’t leave Eddie Munson, even as the world ends in their fucking faces and all proves to be as good as lost.

He won’t settle for them counting among the loses and that’s…

That’s just kinda…wow.

“Was really banking pretty hard on that feeling, too,” and Eddie hears Steve’s voice strain a little, even as there comes a little tiny huff of slightly manic laughter, and a rip of fabric from fuck knows where. “Want to get to know you better, Munson,” he says, tight like he’s holding up tensions, or swallowing back pain and Eddie doesn’t like that, and likes even less that he can do fuck all about it right now.

But if they’re gonna be in the business of getting to know each other better, then Eddie’s filing that sound away in the ‘keep that shit away from Steve forever’ file.

Eddie likes dealing with forevers in his head, because they so rarely work out for him in life. He craves disappointment, maybe; but.

“Walking through the woods, half-fucking paralyzed was some of the,” Steve starts, honest and earnest before Eddie catches half-a-shrug out the corner of his eye and…maybe he’s not the only one who deals in forevers in their head, and if he’s suddenly not the only one, maybe less disappointing could possibly be imminent.

Maybe.

“It was nice, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another thing for the getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—then his tone’s turning sorta wry:

“Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.”

Eddie wants desperately to laugh, to bump shoulders with Steve again like he did a little, tries for more when they were walking side by side, he wants so fucking bad—

Then there’s fire in his fucking throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve sounds more startled than concerned, where Eddie’s kinda afraid his neck is melting into lava or some shit; “yeah, yeah, baby,” and hold the fuck up, what did Steve just say, what did Steve just call him? Our of nowhere?

The lava feeling’s way less important; in fact, takes enough of a back step to make some sense with Steve’s neck words, with his hand back in Eddie’s chest to brace his shoulder:

“You’re coming back, just keep,” he’d tries to laugh, and the sound had gotten lost on Eddie in the agony but it hadn’t been lost in Steve, his baby, holy fucking shit—

“Oh.”

Steve’s tone is something entirely new; awed a little, floored a little, not bad, so that’s a plus, but…overwhelmed like at the edges but then fucking ecstatic in the middle, which down here shouldn’t even be possible, until his hand pressed a little harder into Eddie’s ribs on the less mangled side and—

“Strong enough to feel, now, even when I still can’t feel everything,” Steve’s face swims, gorgeous and kinda like an answer to the universe in the minimal view space Eddie has to work with as he slowly crawls back online, a process not actually being helped by Eddie putting together what’s causing Steve’s reaction—the way his heart’s pumping’s growing a little undeniable even on his own end, and Steve’s hand feeling the raw effects of Steve on Eddie’s body right now isn’t helping matters at-fucking-all, but also Eddie never wants that touch to leave him ever fucking again, ever.

It’s a delicate sort of contradiction.

“Shit, yeah,” and Steve’s laughing, and it’s a soft joy-tinged thing less than the manic hysteria thus far.

Eddie’s fucking toast, man. No hope for him now.

“Strong enough even if I’m kinda fucking shaking,” Steve holds out his hand that, yeah, is in fact a little trembly but hey.

Eddie can’t feel shit yet too good, but he’s almost certain he’s got to be no better. Blood in his veins certainly ain’t winning any awards for steadiness.

And Steve leans down, this time back with another one of those vaguely hysterical laughs and Eddie can’t see everything outside of the angle his head’s held at just now, and the whole problem really starts with how he can’t feel a lot of shit á la bat venom, but.

If Eddie had any money, he’d actually wager that Steve fucking Harrington. Just touched his lips to Eddie’s neck, just kissed where his pulse would kick between his collarbones. And, true or not, the possibility of that?

Holy fucking shit.

“I hope these aren’t too tight,” Eddie sees the motion from Steve’s shoulder, feels…or thinks he feels the lightest ghost of pressure at his fucked up side: tight. The tearing from before; Steve had been wrapping his sorry ass up.

Talk about Eddie’s goddamn knight in shining armor, Jesus fuck.

“Pretty sure it came down to the fact that their poison hit me like it did because of where they got me the worse, and that’s what made me hope in the first place, you know. Your worst bleeders are in the meat,” and yeah, Eddie really does think that’s real sensation for the soft press of Steve’s hand at his flank, not say nothing of the burning flush to his cheeks, blood’s moving just fine there.

“Fucking deep but not so close to the bloodstream, to pump around and make it worse,” and he touches Eddie’s neck again, and ah: that was why Steve had the reaction he did, mainline to the ticker to get it all swum around. “More of it in you, obviously, because there were more of them, more teeth, but not up here,” and fuck Steve Harrington for the way his hand brushes Eddie’s neck almost tender-like, just…fuck him; “no a direct fucking line to the source.”

Yes. Fuck him. Preferably soon and with Eddie at full sensation and on a horizontal surface that’s not bloodsoaked and vaguely reeking of rot.

Just, y’know. If anyone’s taking note of preferences.

“Thank god for it,” Steve breathes out, the air fluttering over Eddie’s face and he can feel it and he wants to cry, he wants to jump up and dance; can’t do that year but his pulse makes a damn good attempt.

“But yeah, anyway, just walking through hell with you was,” Steve shifts back to the part where he’d seemed to be extolling the virtues of apocalyptic flirting, but before Eddie can file it away to do so much better in whatever’s to come? Steve’s slotting his fingers between Eddie’s own; he can’t feel the whole of it, but he damn well feels enough to know the way they fit is perfect, like they were cut form the same clay millennia ago.

Of course Eddie’s heart goes flippy-floppy again; it fucking has to.

“Not the part about Nance so much, though.”

And Eddie thinks he frowns because…oh.

Oh right, yeah, he really hasn’t had a glimmer of hope in hell that what kinda feels like is happening right now was even on the goddamn table, so…maybe he had tried to funnel his sense of pure and unadulterated loss into at east giving the boy he wanted, what < i >that boy wanted.

Whoops.

Won’t be making that mistake ever again, though, at least. Lesson learned, loud and clear.

“That’s been and gone, man,” steve sighs, a if Eddie needs more convincing. “And I don’t want to go back to where I left it. I want to love someone, who loves me.”

It feels heavy and vulnerable, but all Eddie wants to do is shot me, it can be me, let me have the adventure of learning how to love every bit of you better than you ever thought to even hope after pretty fucking please with a goddamn cherry on top—

“So she’s,” Steve huffs, definitive-like: “out of the picture. She could maybe learn to be that, but, and Steve moves, the most intentionally he’s done it so far to look Eddie straight in the eye when he wraps up the point:

“I’m not interested enough to wait.”

Which means it’s no fucking coincidence, that eye-contact, and Eddie’s ping-ponging pulse for it is 100% prevent valid and then some.

“And I know can’t talk right now, so I get this isn’t really,” Steve sucks his teeth in a genuinely unbearably adorable way; “fair, or probably even like, wholly ethical,” and Eddie’s only been around for days but that sounds like Robin right there, and the feeling of a dangerous pull near his cheek makes him think the urge to smile wasn’t wholly ignored by his beat to shit body, fucking progress.

“So think of it just like a,” he hums, then snaps his fingers as he lands on: “suggestion! A suggestion. Like me, just, putting it out there, which I usually do before anyone feels the same way anyway so this is just like, variation on the theme, but,” and Steve’s eyes are so big, Eddie’s never seen them looks this way before while Steve tips his whole face so Eddie can watch before he can sit up or turn his neck, must be fucking painful but he doesn’t even flinch, and Eddie’s only ever just kinda fallen for the puppy droop of those gorgeous eyes. Now they’re all, big and wide and bright and breathless and holy shit, Eddie’s really is just so screwedbest thing ever.

“I want to take you to dinner, a movie.”

Okay, hold up. That idea, said out loud and meant and directed to him: that might be the best thing ever.

“Maybe a drive in so no one will see if you let me hold your hand, or put my arm around you, or start necking with you halfway through,” like that isn’t making Eddie wonder if he just can’t feel the hard on every piece of him is very convinced he has to have right now, if his body can actually pony up just yet.

“If you want, of course. We could go slow,” and it’s like Steve’s thought about it, like this isn’t just adrenaline and near-death and zero impulse control. It’s most like he…like he actually wants. “Just a movie, even like at my house. Or yours. After they,” Steve clears his throat, the only part he’s even hinted awkwardness in; “after they take care of that.”

Ah. Right. Eddie probably does now have a trailer anymore.

Weird how little he’s caring about that at the moment.

“I could cook, I’m not bad at it,” Steve’s ploughing in with secret knowledge because: Harrington. Apron. Sauce on his cheek. KO-fucking punch to the heart, no survivors.

“Takeout’s fine too, I’d get whatever you wanted,” he pivots before trialing of, chewing his bottom lip then saying a little softer:

“But I would look up recipes too, practice to learn your favorite foods.”

And maybe Eddie really was never supposed to survive the Upside Down. He just maybe completely misinterpreted the way he was gonna fuckin’ die .

“I’d kiss you at the door if that’s okay, if that’s not to far,” then Steve’s bit-sparkle eyes darken even in the hell-dim around them; “or take you to bed if you wanted, but only as much as you were sure.”

And y’known how Eddie’s heat’s been flippy-flopping?

What it starts doing then leave that schoolgirl shit to dhame.

“I want to date you, basically,” and Steve’s shoulders are all squared up, like he’s making a pitch that has any chance of failing, and Eddie does have some working knowing of the past failures…thing, but he genuinely believes those fuckers have been at least partially brain dead to leave a man like this free for the taking, by Eddie of all fucking people.

“I want to try, and see if we can be something,” and the way he says those words, it’s…it’s like a soft perfect flame in Eddie’s chest, the first thing he thinks he can feel again fucking perfectly right,

“‘Cause fuck Eddie, I’ve been looking for something for what feels like forever, and the only thing I keep coming back to for any of it is thinking about you, and ain’t that a plot twist, the deepening of the idea that any of this stretched last what started in that fucking boathouse. “Had a whole-ass sexual awakening over you when you started shepherding my kids, can’t let that go to waste, man.”

And holy shit, dude. Eddie can’t leave him hanging on that confession no matter how mostly-carefree his smile stretches. Because Steve’s been in it since last fall?

Well, Eddie’s not one to easily be outdone.

“What?” Steve squints at Eddie’s face which…okay. He probably looks absurd but he’s trying really hard here, and miming isn’t easy when your muscles don’t want to get on board, yeah?

“Are you,” Steve scrunches his nose; tips his head; considers; “are you trying to,” he frowns, like he’s ready to dismiss what he’s guessing but then says fuck it and leaps:

“Are you trying to whistle?”

Yes, oh my god, sign him up for his marriage license for real, they’re meant to fucking be.

It takes Steve a second to make sense of the absurdity, and the fact that it’s only a second is a feat in itself:

“When I was a lifeguard?”

Eddie watches the timeframe, the length of admittedly varying types and depths but always constant infatuation, start to sink in and then:

“Jesus, Munson, for real?”

And lips are coming for his lips, and he’s real hopeful he can feel them this time but: no. Not yet.

But they fill his lungs up quick and full where he’s getting better which breathing by the minute, but. Any but if a boost is appreciated.

Especially from those lips, felt fully yet or not.

“That’s just because I’m gonna lift you up here in a second to crry you, and it’s gonna hurt like fuck no matter how gentle I try to be,” Steve warns him; “so breathe as slow as you can until I can lay you back down topside.”

Right. Right, because…the Upside Down was breaking apart and they’ve been here how long, fuck, they need to get a mov on…probably.

But Steve doesn’t seem concerned about anything but getting his arms around Eddie to pick him up just right, and then staring at him all star-bright bbsome more, and that’s…way more pressing, to be honest.

“But when we get there,” Steve glances behind him; “how about we look into doing that in a way that’s more spit-swapping, less rescue breathing, that cool?”

And holy fucking shit, Eddie genuinely believes right now that he could fall in love with this motherfucker, what the actual hell.

That, and he thinks he’s gonna enjoy it, to boot.

Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn cracker—

He’s looking forward to it more than the air in his fucking lungs could even hope to rank.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wherein steve goes back for eddie #and doesn’t KNOW if he’s still alive #but goddamnit: he has reason to HOPE #confessions #romance #planning a future #idiot4idiot #developing relationship #fluff #humor #snarky internal monologue #an overabundance of flirting in times of mortal peril #steve POV: walking with you through hell was the nicest date I’ve ever had #(maybe less focus on the ex-girlfriend next time; not a deal breaker for a first try but definitely room for constructive criticism)#steve is definitely thinking long term here so: plenty of time to get it just right #also: eddie wants it to be known that just because this bat-venom-paralytic hasn’t worn off yet and he can’t reply with words?#he is NO LESS ENTHUSIASTICALLY ON BOARD with steve’s proposals #baffled a little? sure #but 100% ready and willing as soon as he’s able #the ordeal of asking the cute boy out just after everyone thought he was probably dead #planning a future in an actively crumbling hellscape=(soon-to-be)couple goals #happy ending #stranger things #steddielovemonth #prompt: time after time by cyndi lauper #hitlikehammers writes #hitlikehammers v words

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iatrophilosophos · 2 days ago

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"Harm reduction for diy hrt" WHAT HARM ??? SHOW ME THE HARM !!!

Years of paying attention and talking w ppl, not ONE "so&so happened to my buddy's metamour's friend" report of a major incident let alone a credible even 2nd or 3rd hand case study.

Actualized negative events associated with DIY hrt i DO have credible reports of: 1) swollen/itchy/painful injection sites in people reusing needles, not sterilizing vial tops, using poor injection technique 2) mild to moderate allergic reactions to carrier oils 3) using an ineffective dose with minor to moderate mood disturbances, flares of some autoimmune conditions, fatigue/weakness/brain fog/pain in people already susceptible to chronic pain, that subside with dosing/cycle adjustments

NONE OF THESE ISSUES are UNIQUE to the DIY element. In the cases of 2 and 3, there are significant pros to DIY bc it is easier/cheaper to access a preparation without an allergen when you are your own compounding pharmacy, and dosage changes can be made without permission/folks aren't stuck on shitty doses that could possibly create more significant health problems down the line for extended periods while waiting for prescriber approval to change.

Injection protocol education for IV NEEDLE DRUG USERS is harm reduction because there is HARM associated with the socio-medical conditions created by the war on drugs to ACTIVELY BLOCK access to safer use knowledge and tools. There is REAL HARM in the REAL WORLD that is REDUCED by addressing politically-introduced risk vectors in a specific class of autonomous medicine use.

Harm reduction is a specific term for a specific socio-medical concept regarding activities that, while involving inherent risk (as most aspects of Being Alive do!), occupy a position of ARTIFICIALLY INFLATED RISK due to criminalization, policing, and specific means of knolwege gatekeeping and/or disruption of transmission. As a term it has a specific history and purpose, to assert that the same risk mitigation and best-possible/acceptable/desirable care options should be available to all people regardless of their participation in stigmatized or illicit activities.

Discussion of risk and protocols associated with any form of medicine is vital to building robust, effective, desirable, and sustainable common-knowledge medical strategies; but to be effective at that these discussions have to be as accurate to the data points they describe as possible. Referring to risk mitigation strategies that do not address ACTUALIZED CONDITIONS RESULTING IN HARM as "Harm reduction" is inaccurate and occludes reality. One reason this is bad, among many, is that the fact that widespread negative events unique to the DIY element of DIY HRT are not CURRENTLY actually happening could potentially be an important datapoint in problem solving if it DOES happen in the future. If in three weeks some kid or collective somewhere starts DIYing and getting really sick, it is important for those people to know that THAT IS WEIRD!!!!!! and deserves a lot of detailed exploration of what went wrong, & not just assume that they just got unlucky/didn't Reduce Harm good enough.

Just say "these are what i think are best practices based on xyz evidence," and leave it at that. If for some reason you're uncomfortable saying THAT, it's probably a sign you don't know enough about what you're talking about and need to interrogate your epistemology more before opening your mouth to tell other people what to do.

That is all.

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gothamite-rambler · 3 days ago

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Red Robin started chuckling as he slowly leaned back. His eye mask concealed his crazed eyes, but his cackle was unnerving.

Goon: Um, fall.

Red Robin (tilting his head): Do it again.

Goon: No. Back up!

Red Robin (walking closer): Hit me again. Do it. I want to you to.

The goon angrily punched RR again, but mostly to get him to fall back. Red Robin chuckled nodding as blood trickled down his mouth.

Red Robin: Hit me five times and maybe I'll cum!

Nightwing: So he's... Moved passed the grieving process of his dad's death?

Batman (crossing his arms): Mm-hm.

Nightwing: Kay then... what the fuck is that?

Batman: Hm? I'm guessing embracing the madness. It passes in a few weeks. You went through it too... I'm so proud of him.

Nightwing: No, no, that's not proud. Red Robin, hey buddy fall back.

Red Robin (cracking his knuckles): I will in a moment... Just need a moment. I finally feel it. What Batman and Red Hood have, I enjoyed that.

Red Robin slightly turned to Batman, the stoic man waving confused.

Red Robin: This is the pain for pleasure you talk about? I get it now.

Nightwing: Oh, no, no. Batman, tell him-

Batman: That's right, Robin! Now beat his ass!

Nightwing: I am actually disappointed in you.

Red Robin turned back to the goon and cracked his neck before punching the man in the face. Red Hood entered the basement and walked over to the group as Red Robin was throwing savage punches while snarling.

Red Hood: Oh, he's embraced the madness.

Batman: Yeah, I'm impressed with his tolerance.

Red Hood: It's admirable.

Nightwing (walking over to break up his younger brother from beating the goon): How am I the most sane person right now?

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mediocre-shark-tales · 2 days ago

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End of the First Season

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

After the season wrapped up, I finally found a moment of calm. The chaos of F1 had slowed, and I was allowed a little breathing room. But even with the peace, I couldn't shake the constant ache in my body. I thought the bruising I had gotten from the Abu Dhabi crash would eventually subside, but it never did. Every day, it seemed to hurt a little more, so I finally caved and went to the doctor to get checked out.

I wasn’t prepared for the news. It wasn’t just bruising. My ribs had cracked, and so had a bone in my right forearm. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—no wonder I’d been hurting so much. But, being me, I just shrugged it off. If there was one thing I’d learned over this crazy season, it was how to power through. And if I could make it through that wreck, I could handle a couple cracked bones, right?

I needed to break the news, of course, but I had a little fun with it. I posted on Instagram, sharing all the high points of my 2024 season—my wins, my podiums, the laughs, the frustrations. But as the last picture in the post, I slid in a photo collage of my X-rays. Just for the shock value, of course.

The response was exactly what I expected. I saw the comments flood in—fans, media, and especially the drivers. They were all so concerned, immediately freaking out about me being in pain, even though I was smiling through it all. Some of the messages I got were hilarious, like Lando calling me crazy for not telling him sooner. “You’re seriously not a robot, right?” he texted me, complete with a couple of eye-roll emojis.

And then there was Max. Max Verstappen. He was texting me every five minutes, demanding I go see another doctor. "You should’ve told me. I would've taken care of it for you." Like he was going to fly out to Monaco just to be my personal healthcare assistant. I almost laughed at how protective he was being, but honestly, it was sweet.

Liam, of course, had the most dramatic reaction. "y/n, what the hell?! Why didn’t you tell me about this?" he practically screamed down the phone. "This could’ve been a big deal! You could’ve been seriously hurt!"

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Liam, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with it. It’s just some cracked bones.”

But he wasn’t having it. "That’s not something you ‘just deal with.’ You need to get checked out, properly. I’m seriously getting worried now."

At that point, I had to assure him—no more freaking out. Everyone was so sweet, though. Even Carlos sent a message telling me to take it easy and that he was looking forward to seeing me next season. “Just don’t go crashing again, okay?”

I even caught a text from Fernando, who simply said: “You’re strong, but next time… maybe take it easy?”

The support from all the drivers was overwhelming, but honestly, it was what I needed. The kind words, the check-ins, it made me feel like I had a big family backing me up.

I had also made the decision recently to buy an apartment in Monaco. It wasn’t something I’d planned at first, but Lando convinced me it was the perfect move. He was all about the idea of having me live close by so we could hang out in the off-season when I wasn’t visiting family back in the U.S. Plus, Monaco seemed like the kind of place where I could really start fresh, living on my own but still be surrounded by people who understood the craziness of F1 life. Lando lives just above me, and we joke that I’m now not on "Lando’s level".

It’s been nice, honestly. I can walk around without the chaos of a race weekend looming over me, and sometimes, it feels like a different world entirely. Having drivers around gives me a sense of comfort, knowing I’m never too far from a friend, and I love that Lando is nearby for spontaneous hangouts. He’s been a solid support system, and having him in Monaco means I never really feel alone. It’s just nice, knowing that someone’s always nearby, especially after everything I’ve been through.

Franco and I were sitting in the lounge of my new Monaco apartment, just a couple of glasses of wine between us as we talked about the future. There was this quiet tension in the air—nothing too obvious, but we both knew what it felt like. He was leaning back on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at it.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t know what’s next for me, to be honest. Alpine offered me a reserve driver contract with them, but it's basically the same thing I have at Williams. The only real difference is that they are telling me they will take Jack out of his seat if he doesn’t do well. So I get paid more and have a more likely chance at racing again with them or I get loyalty points and probably never seat the steering wheel for another season with Williams.” His voice carried this layer of frustration I hadn’t heard from him before. He ran a hand through his hair, and I could see the weight of it all on him. He wasn’t the kind to complain, but I knew how badly he wanted that full-time seat. I could tell by how hard he fought to stay on the grid this season.

“Don’t let them make you feel like you have to settle,” I said softly, my words maybe a little more sincere than I meant them to be. He was one of the most talented drivers I knew, and he deserved to have a seat that would recognize that.

He let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it? The grid’s stacked, and Alpine knows I’ll have to take what I can get. But I don’t know… maybe it’s not where I want to be.”

There was a pause between us, and I watched him carefully, sensing that this was more than just a conversation about racing for him. It felt like the moment he was letting himself be real, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed.

“Franco,” I started, but the words faltered in my mouth. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, not when I knew what was next for me. He had been my rock in so many ways this season, and now it was my turn to be there for him. But it felt like something more was hanging in the air, something unsaid.

He met my eyes, and for a moment, there was this quiet, unspoken connection. “I don’t want to leave, you know?” he whispered, almost as if he were saying it to himself more than to me. “But I don’t know if I have another option.”

I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I just leaned over and put a hand on his arm, my fingers gently brushing his sleeve. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a small gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do. We stayed like that for a while, just sitting in silence, letting the quiet of the room fill in the gaps of our thoughts. When finally a thought came to me, “You know, I was in the same predicament before becoming Aston Martin’s Reserve driver?”

He shook his head, not making eye contact yet. “Before Aston Martin I was driving only as a test driver for Redbull, no chance at racing only at being available when their own drivers reserve or not couldn’t be there. Then Aston Martin came to me with a contract, be their reserve driver. A team with a literal multi world champion driver and a driver who was the owner of the team’s son. So basically, my only chance at driving was someone getting sick or hurt. Or I could stay with my red bull contract and earn loyalty points but probably still never see the steering wheel during a real race.” I looked at him, seeing his expression change. “It was a tough decision but I listed out the pros and cons of each. In the end, Aston Martin gave me the most potential to grow into the F1 world.”

Then, he looked at me, and there was this flicker in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. Something that felt real, honest. And I knew in that moment that we were both feeling it—that subtle pull between us. But neither of us said anything about it. Instead, we just let it linger, both of us too scared to do anything about it. “So what I think you need to do is think about what would help you grow or just what you want to do for your future? Is your future still F1 with Williams? Or do you want to explore other options to see what happens?”

His expression changed to one almost deep in thought. I pulled my hand back, giving him a small smile. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, even though my heart was beating a little faster than usual.

He smiled back, a little half-hearted, but genuine. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

“Same here,” I replied, my voice softer than I meant it to be. And for a moment, it felt like we were more than just teammates, more than just friends. But neither of us made a move. We just stayed there, pretending it was enough to be in each other’s company, not acknowledging the unspoken feelings simmering beneath the surface.

The moment passed, and we both knew it. But neither of us could shake the feeling that things had changed, even if just a little.

Post-season testing was in full swing, and I found myself behind the wheel of a Red Bull. Well, technically, it was a VCARB test, but they had thrown me and Yuki into the main team’s car—basically the 2024 title-winning machine before it would be slightly modified for our ‘junior’ team.

The car felt incredible. The downforce, the grip, the way it responded to even the slightest inputs—I had driven a strong car before, but this? This was on another level. It was a taste of what could be possible with the right setup, and I couldn’t help but grin every time I pushed it through a turn.

“Oi, don’t get too comfortable in that seat,” Yuki’s voice came through the radio as we wrapped up a practice run. “You still have to share it next year.”

I laughed, pulling into the pits and hopping out, only to be immediately greeted by VCARB’s social media team. I had already been warned that their content crew was… a little too good at capturing moments. The internet had already fallen in love with the way Yuki and I had been interacting over the past few weeks, posting clips of our playful bickering, him teaching me random Japanese phrases, or me teasing him about his food choices.

Case in point—before I even had my helmet off, Yuki was standing beside me, pointing at my water bottle with an accusing glare. “You forgot to drink again, we never saw the water button activate”

I groaned. “I was driving.”

He snatched the bottle out of the table and unscrewed the lid. “Drink. Now.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, taking a sip just to get him off my back.

Of course, VCARB’s media team caught the whole thing, and I had no doubt it would be on their Instagram story in minutes.

Later that evening, while cooling down after the day’s sessions, I found myself sketching out ideas for my new helmet. My current design had meant so much to me, but with a new chapter starting, I felt like I needed something fresh. Something that still honored my journey but signified a step forward.

I sat in the VCARB lounge, my sketchbook open in front of me, absentmindedly doodling designs. Maybe something sleeker, sharper—still keeping the essence of my previous helmets, but with a modern touch. I knew I wanted to incorporate the sea turtle shadow again, but this time, maybe in a way that intertwined with something symbolic for myself.

Yuki plopped down beside me, peering over my shoulder. “You’re making it blue, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I drive for VCARB now doesn’t mean my entire identity is changing.”

He grinned. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t put at least a little VCARB energy into it, I’ll be offended.”

I smirked. “I’ll think about it.”

Truthfully, this whole transition was already feeling better than I had expected. The team was welcoming, the car felt strong, and Yuki had quickly become an easy person to be around. For the first time in a while, I felt like I had something solid to look forward to with my future in this sport.

Now, I just had to survive another season of teasing from Yuki and VCARB’s relentless social media team.

Netflix: Drive to Survive – Post-Season Interview

The cameras were rolling, the dim lighting of the Drive to Survive interview room setting the scene. I sat in the chair, legs crossed, hands fidgeting slightly in my lap as the producers got everything settled. It felt weird, really. Looking back on the season as if it was just a chapter in a book rather than something I had physically, emotionally, and mentally endured.

The interviewer gave me a reassuring smile before jumping straight into it.

“This was your rookie season—or, well, partial rookie season. And it wasn’t exactly an easy one. How do you even begin to reflect on everything that happened?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Honestly? I don’t even know where to start. It was the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I don’t think I ever imagined just how much this season would take out of me—physically, mentally. I came into it with so much to prove, knowing that I wasn’t even guaranteed a seat for next year. Then the Vegas crash happened, and suddenly everything shifted. I had to rebuild myself from the ground up—again.”

“You mentioned the Vegas crash—arguably one of the scariest moments of the season. How much did that affect you going forward?”

I swallowed, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek. “It’s weird because at the time, I was just focused on getting back in the car. I didn’t want to sit out, I didn’t want to give people a reason to doubt me. But looking back? I should’ve given myself more time. I was hiding injuries, pushing through pain I didn’t even fully understand. It wasn’t until after Abu Dhabi, when I finally went to a doctor, that I realized I had been racing with cracked ribs and a fractured forearm. That… that hit me hard. Not just because I knew I had been reckless with my own health, but because it made me realize just how much I feared losing my place here.”

“And now, even after proving yourself with a few Grand Prix wins, multiple podiums, and signing with Cadillac, you’re still facing uncertainty. How does that feel?”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah… it’s tough. I signed with Cadillac for 2026, which is exciting, but next year? I’m on loan with VCARB. It’s a temporary situation. There’s no telling how things will go, how I’ll fit into the team, how the car will perform. And then after that, I’m moving to a completely new team, a completely new project, which—don’t get me wrong—is an incredible opportunity, but also terrifying. I won’t have the stability that some of these other drivers have. I don’t get to settle in and build a team around me. I have to constantly prove myself, adapt, and just hope that everything works out.”

“Do you think about that often? The uncertainty of it all?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Every damn day. But that’s the sport, isn’t it? You never really know where you stand until half through the season. I just have to trust that I’m here for a reason.”

“You had a lot of support from fellow drivers this season, some of them clearly becoming very close to you. How much did that mean, especially in a year as chaotic as this one?”

I smiled at that, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t think I would’ve survived this season without them. Lando, Max, Lewis, Carlos, Franco—they all helped me in different ways. Max was like this overprotective older brother, always making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, which—ironic, considering it’s Max Verstappen we’re talking about.” I laughed. “Lewis was there in a more subtle way, just letting me talk through things when I needed to. Carlos and Lando, well… they made sure I never took myself too seriously. And Franco… Franco understood in a way no one else could.”

“Speaking of Franco, He’s not on the grid next year, but you are. What is that like?”

I exhaled softly. “It is hard. Franco deserved a seat just as much as anyone else. He knows that. We have had a moment together where we both acknowledged that, no matter what happens, we’ll always support each other. But it’s bittersweet. I’m moving forward, but I don’t get to have him there with me next season. It’s just another reminder of how brutal this sport is.”

“Despite all of that, you still seem… excited.”

I let a small smirk tug at my lips. “I mean, yeah. It’s terrifying, but it’s also incredible. I get to drive a Formula 1 car for another season. I get to be part of the chaos. And, hey, if nothing else—at least Yuki and I are going to make VCARB’s social media team’s lives very entertaining next year.”

The interviewer chuckled. “That’s for sure. Final question—if you could say one thing to the version of yourself that started this season, what would it be?”

I sat with that for a moment, thinking. Then, with a slow, deep breath, I met the interviewer’s gaze.

“I’d tell her she should allow herself to lean on her friends more, to allow her grid family to help her when situations go downhill. But even when they get terrifyingly bad, she’s gonna get through it, after all, mama didn’t raise no bitch” I smiled mischeviously knowing that was the last question and while I had done well the entire time not swearing, the last word would have to be beeped for tv.

Pre-Season testing

My first partial season had long ended. The whirlwind of emotions, the battles on and off track, the celebrations, the heartbreaks—it had all been wrapped up into one chaotic, unforgettable year. And yet, as I stood there now, staring at the package in front of me, I realized it was only the beginning.

The VCARB garage was quieter than I had ever heard it. No roaring engines, no frantic radio chatter, just the distant hum of mechanics working in the background as the pre-season test wound down. Yuki had already disappeared somewhere—probably off to grab snacks or cause some minor chaos—and the crew had mostly filtered out, leaving just a handful of us behind.

I ran my fingers along the edge of the box, my name printed in bold letters on the lid. This was it. A new chapter. A new beginning. A new identity.

I glanced up at the lead designer, who gave me a small nod, encouraging me to lift the lid.

My heart pounded as I peeled back the protective wrap, the first glimpse of my brand-new helmet catching the dim garage light. I inhaled sharply, my fingers brushing over the surface, tracing the details I had agonized over for weeks. This wasn’t just a helmet. It was a statement. A promise.

A warning.

Something is coming.

I smiled to myself, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, that unwavering hunger for what came next.

The season was over.

But the story was far from finished.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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stephstars08 · 3 days ago

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You Love Me?

Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Dark Themes, Mention of Death, Reader get’s Shot, Weapons, Violence, Angst, Fluff, and Possibly Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!)

Summary: After Y/N literally takes a bullet for Jason she finds out a big secret he’s been keeping from her thanks to Dick.

Word Count: 1,583

Author’s Note: This is actually my first story of 2025😬! Last month I just didn’t have any motivation to write. Also sorry if this is sloppy and sorry for postponing the release date! I’ve been having pain in my back and neck! Anyways, hope you all enjoy this short story!

Y/N was in her vigilante suit on a mission with Jason. Y/N is very close with Jason so most of the missions she goes on, he’s always right there by her side. Y/N’s vigilante name is Shadow. She picked that name since the suit she wears makes her look like a shadow. Her suit is all dark gray and the mask she wears covers her whole face.

Y/N’s father was a police officer and he got killed in the line of duty by Scarecrow during one of his tirades. That event is what motivated her to become a vigilante. She never wants a kid to go through with that she went through. At first she was just doing it to protect her mother and little sister but as time went on she wanted to protect her whole city. She was seventeen when she started fighting crime and has now been doing it for three years now. She recently became a part of the Bat team.

Her and Jason were at the docks fighting some gang members. There was three of them so from time to time Y/N or Jason would be fighting two people at the same time. Y/N finally took the guy she was fighting down. She was finally able to catch her breath. Jason was still fighting his guy.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when she noticed the third guy pull out a gun and aim it at Jason’s back. “Shit!” Y/N hissed with worry. Right when the guy pulled the trigger. Y/N jumped in front of Jason. Y/N felt the bullet go through her side.

When Y/N screamed out in pain everyone stopped. Jason’s eyes went wide under his red helmet when he turned around and saw Y/N laying down on the cold ground. “Fuck!” Jason said with panic in his voice as he kneeled down next to Y/N.

“Let’s go boys!” The guy who pulled the trigger said to other two guys. Jason didn’t care that the gang members were getting away. All he cared about was Y/N.

Before Jason could ask where the bullet hit her he saw the blood coming out from her left side. “J-j-Jason” Y/N stuttered in pain. “Shh don’t speak.” Jason told her taking off his jacket and putting it down on her wound to ease the bleeding. Jason used the device in his helmet to call Bruce.

“Jason. What’s going on?” He heard Bruce said. Bruce already knew something was wrong since that’s the only time Jason ever calls him. “Its Y/N. She got shot.” Jason told him. “Shit!” He heard Bruce hiss out. “Where did the bullet get her?” Bruce asked him. “Her left side.” Jason answered. “I’m tracking your location now. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He heard Bruce tell him. “Just keep her stable.” Bruce told him in a stern tone and ended the call.

Jason decided to take her mask off since he can hear her struggling to catch her breath. His heart ached seeing the painful look in her eyes. He pressed both hands down onto his jacket. “Just stay with me Y/N. Help is on the way.” Jason told her. Y/N gave him a nod which made her groan out in pain. “Don’t move. Just keep your eyes open.” Jason told her with worry in his voice.

He was trying everything he can do to stay calm. Y/N used all of the strength and energy she has to keep her eyes open. She felt like she was paralyzed everywhere but where her wound is.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Bruce got there him and Jason carefully helped Y/N into the Batmobile. Jason followed the Batmobile to the Batcave on his motorcycle. When they got to the Batcave Bruce and Alfred immediately took Y/N to the medical room. Alfred has patched up everyone so he knew exactly what he was doing. He’s taken bullets out of Bruce many times.

Jason was in the main room with Dick and Barbara. Jason couldn’t stop pacing back and forth. “Jason, you need to sit down. You pacing like that isn’t helping your nerves.” Barbara told him. “What if she doesn’t make it!” Jason said as he stopped pacing so he was looking straight at Barbara and Dick. “Jason, she’s going to make it.” Dick told him. “She’s in good hands, Jason.” Barbara said adding on to what Dick was saying.

“If I was fucking paying attention this wouldn’t of happened!” Jason said with a mixture of frustration and anger in his tone. “Woah, Jason!” Dick started. “There is no way in hell that this is your fault.” Duck told him in a stern tone. “Bullshit!” Jason hissed. “She took that bullet for me!” Jason said as his anger grew.

Bruce walked into the room. He was still in his Batman suit he just didn’t have his mask on. “How is Y/N?” Jason asked with worry as he quickly walked up to Bruce. “She’s going to be okay.” Bruce answered which made everyone in the room feel relief. “So relieved to hear you say that.” Barbara said with nothing but relief in her voice.

Y/N is Barbara’s best friend and Barbara doesn’t know what she would do without her.

“Luckily the bullet didn’t go through her.” Bruce told them. “Alfred got the bullet out of her side and is stitching her up.” Bruce added.

“Can I see her?” Jason asked with a pleading look in his blue eyes. Bruce answered his question with a nod. “Follow me.” Bruce told him. Jason followed Bruce back into the medical room.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After Y/N woke up Bruce had Alfred take her upstairs to Wayne Manor. Since she needs a lot of rest for some weeks he’s letting her stay in one of the guest rooms.

A couple of days have passed and Y/N was still bedridden. Dick and Barbara just showed up to visit Y/N and see how she was doing. When they walked into the room they did notice that Y/N was starting to get some color back into her face. “How are you feeling?” Barbara asked her standing by the bedside with Dick right next to her. “A little better than yesterday.” Y/N answered.

“If I didn’t have those pain killers I would be so fucked.” Y/N added which made Barbara and Dick let out a little laugh. “Its good to know that your sense of humor is still in tact.” Dick told her. “Don’t worry. They didn’t shoot out my sense of humor.” Y/N told him with a small smile.

“I’m surprised Jason isn’t here.” Barbara said. Jason has been by Y/N’s side almost every hour of the day. It would take Y/N forever to get him to leave so he could get some rest of his own. “You guys actually just missed him.” Y/N told them. “We did?” Dick said with one of his eyebrows raised. “I made the dumb mistake of telling him I was craving truffles from that fancy chocolate shop.” Y/N said with a sigh. “But that shop is across town.” Barbara said. “That’s what I told him but he didn’t care.” Y/N told her. “Damn, he’s crazy.” Barbra said as she shook her head. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Hey cut the man some slack. A guy does anything when he’s in love.” Dick said which made Y/N freeze. Barbara looked over at Dick with wide eyes. “What?” Dick asked in confusion. “You just told Y/N that Jason is in love with her.” Barbara told him which made his heart sink. “Oh, um, yeah my bad.” Dick said with a nervous sigh. “He’s in love with me?” Y/N asked Dick in a surprised tone in her voice. “Yeah he um told me a few months back.” Dick answered knowing he can’t take back what he said. “Oh my gosh.” Y/N said as she felt nothing but shock.

“Jason is so going to kill you.” Barbara told him. “Yeah yeah I fucking know!” Dick hissed as he ran one of his hands through his raven colored hair.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After Barbara and Dick left Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what she just found out. Jason doesn’t just love her no, he’s in love with her. Y/N snapped out of her racing thoughts when Jason walked in holding a white paper bag.

“I’m back.” Jason said walking over to her bedside. “Your truffles.” Jason said handing her the white bag. “Oh um thanks.” Y/N said taking the paper bag.

Jason could immediately sense that something was wrong. “Everything alright?” Jason asked with concern in his voice. Y/N set the bag down on the table next to the bed.

“Are you in love with me?” Y/N asked taking Jason by surprise. “Who um told you that?” Jason asked her. “Dick might’ve let it slip out.” Y/N told him fiddling with her fingers. “That stupid fuck!” Jason snapped as he a ran a hand down his face.

Y/N grabbed one of his hands before he could get too worked up. “Jason.” Y/N said in a soft voice as she looked up at him. “Yes, I’m in love with you.” Jason confessed to her. Y/N lips turned up into a smile. She pulled him down and connected her lips with his’s. Jason immediately kissed back since he’s been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

They continued to kiss till they needed to pull away to catch their breath.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Y/N told him with a big smile on her face.

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saichisugimoto99 · 3 days ago

Text

You Protected Me

Pairing/s: Ethan Landry x ProtectiveF!Reader

Summary: It all started because Ethan refused to comply with the demand of some idiot who was drowned by his ego one day and has no regrets. Not because he likes being harassed, but because thanks to that, he was able to meet an amazing girl... you.

Warnings: English is not my first language, so I apologize for my spelling errors. Language, blood, wounds (the descriptions are not very graphic), fluff, if I missed mentioning something, don't hesitate to tell me.

W/C (Word Count): 6k+ (sorry)

A/N (Author's Note): What is promised is a debt. This One-Shot is based on my meme, I'm sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy reading this (I will also publish it on my wattpad, there I will be publishing most of my stories translated into Spanish).

Ethan's daily routine was always the same: he woke up, ate breakfast, talked to Chad, went to school, did his homework, and had horror movie Fridays with his friends. However, his routine began to change when the captain of the lacrosse team, Alan, asked him for a "favor." The guy wanted Ethan to do his homework for him to avoid having his captain position revoked and him being kicked off the team.

The problem was that the curly-haired boy refused to do it, which caused Alan to get angry and start bullying him. Ethan didn't want to tell his friends, and he doesn't even know if it was out of fear, shame, or both. Hits, words and "jokes" began to become part of the boy's daily routine, as if they were something normal, although in reality they were not. Until one day, a certain girl, known for how troublesome she was, stepped in to defend Ethan.

He was leaving his economics class when Alan and his group grabbed him from behind and dragged him to the farthest part of the campus, while laughing. “It's your turn to take a beating today, Landry.” The captain said, pushing Ethan against a wall. Ethan groaned in pain from the impact.

“P-Please, Alan, are you doing this to me just because I refused to do your homework?” The boy questioned, as he straightened up a little. Even though Ethan was taller, he didn't know how to fight at all.

"I'll explain it to you so you understand, idiot. Lacrosse is my life, and I'm not going to let my chance at the big leagues be ruined because of you. You're the best at economics, right? Give me my homework and we’ll leave you alone. It’s your last chance, Landry.”

Ethan looked at him with fear. I was about to respond, but then you intervened. "Are you seriously threatening him over something you could do yourself? Are you so stupid that you don't even know how to do it yourself?" you asked as you leaned against the wall, holding a cigarette between your fingers.

Hearing your voice, everyone turned to look at you.

"What did you say?" Alan asked, glaring at you.

"Let go."

Alan and his friends started laughing out loud. "And what are you going to do if I don't?"

"I'll put out my damn cigarette with your tongue." You said with a challenging look. You were sick of idiots like him.

Alan looked at you for a few seconds before letting go of Ethan. "You're saved this time, nerd." He whispered to Ethan. Then, he gave you one last look before leaving with his friends.

You pushed away from the wall and walked over to Ethan's backpack to pick up his things, which one of that guy's friends had thrown on the floor. As you did so, Ethan also came over to finish gathering his things.

"I... um, thank you very much for the help, really." Ethan said as he looked at you. Damn, you were beautiful. "You're welcome, I hate idiots like them."

When they finished gathering their things, you stood up with the intention of leaving, but before you could, Ethan spoke to you. "W-Wait a minute..." You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "I... I-I just wanted to know your name. I'm Ethan." You didn't say anything for a few seconds, you just nodded and responded, "Y/n, that's my name." A shy smile appeared on Ethan's face. "It's a very nice name. Thanks again..."

You nodded again while keeping your expression neutral, although there was a hint of a smile and continued on your way. Meanwhile, Ethan couldn't wait to see you again.

A few days passed since that incident where he met you for the first time. I didn't know when I would see you again, until today. He was one of the first to arrive at the economics class. The minutes passed and the seats gradually filled up. Then he saw you come through the door. Damn, you were in his class! How did you not notice before?

He began to get more nervous when he realized that you were coming to sit next to him, although you didn't notice it, since you were distracted. You sat next to him and began to take out your things for class, still not paying attention to him.

Throughout the class, every 5 seconds Ethan would direct his gaze towards you, which you noticed, and in the end you just sighed and looked back at him. That's when you realized it was the same boy you had helped a few days ago.

Ethan blushed as he realized you had caught him. A nervous smile appeared on his lips. "H-Hello again." You just nodded with a slight smile. "Hello, Ethan." She remembers my name, SHE REMEMBERS IT.

The class continued without much interaction between the two of you, although Ethan continued to glance at you every few seconds.

For the next half hour, class progressed normally, but the tension between them was palpable. Ethan couldn't quite concentrate on what the professor was saying, every time his eyes landed on you, and he met your gaze. When class ended and the bell rang, the students began to get up, gathering their things. You also stood up from your seat, but before you could leave the classroom, you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with Ethan, who seemed to be quite nervous.

"Hey, do you mind if we talk for a moment?" he asked, avoiding eye contact.

"No, of course not." You responded.

Ethan bit his bottom lip, a clear sign that he was struggling with his words. "I want to thank you again... for what happened a few days ago." He began, unable to articulate much more. "I... You helped me, and I know I thanked you at the time, but I still want to do it again."

You just nodded. "No problem. I don't like people being treated that way when they don't deserve it. If you need help or anything, look for me."

Ethan nodded, more confident. "Thank you...really. See you later, I guess."

"See you, Ethan." You responded, as you both left the classroom in opposite directions.

As you walked down the hallway, you couldn't help but think that maybe this wouldn't be the last conversation you'd have with him.

And so it was. You saw him shortly after since you only had economics class together and you hadn't attended class that week. It seemed like this time he was with his friends. The only one you recognized was Tara, you both share algebra class. You didn't want to interrupt him, so you decided to walk past him, but he looked up and when he saw you, he immediately smiled. How can someone his size be so... adorable?

You watched as he seemed to say something to his friends, and immediately trotted over to where you were. “H-Hello, Y/n.” The hint of a smile appeared on your lips as you waved back.

“Hello, Ethan. Do you need anything?”

“No, it's not that. It’s just… I didn’t see you in economics class and I got worried.”

“I just had some problems, nothing serious.”

“I…I’m glad.”

You waited a few seconds for him to continue, but he stayed silent. He realized he hadn't said anything and mentally slapped himself on the forehead.

“Shit, I-I'm sorry. “Uh… I also wanted to give you this, wait.” Ethan turned slightly to open his backpack and take out his notebook.

“I wanted to give this to you. “They are the economics notes, what we saw this week.”

You looked at him in surprise as you opened the notebook. “You didn't have to.” Ethan just shrugged with a smile. “It's okay, it doesn't bother me. It’s the least I can do to return the favor.” You gave him an almost imperceptible smile and looked over his shoulder; his friends seemed worried seeing him talking to you. “You better go back to your friends, they seem to be… worried.” Ethan turned to look at his friends while you put the notes in your backpack, the boy just raised an eyebrow, but he didn't give it much importance and looked at you again.

“Go to them, they probably think I want to kick your ass. And thanks again for the notes, I'll get them back to you tomorrow.” Ethan wondered what you meant by that, but chose not to say anything as he said goodbye, smiling like a fool in love.

As you walked past her friends, Mindy shot you a look, and you returned it, but in a more threatening manner.

Ethan returned to his friends, who looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “What's wrong with them? “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Duh, isn't it obvious? “You were talking to Y/n, did she threaten you or something?” Mindy asked, looking at him with a mix of pity and irritation. She has always had a love-hate relationship with Ethan. She has been passive-aggressive towards him, but she doesn't hate him; You could say that he has a certain affection for him, although not enough to treat him well. Did you understand? Me neither, Mindy, make up your mind.

“She didn't threaten me, she just... helped me with something and I wanted to return the favor. Why would he threaten me anyway? “He is not a bad person.”

At that moment, Chad, his best friend and roommate, sighed and placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder. “Man, I don't know if that girl brainwashed you or something, but you should stay away from her. According to rumors, Y/n is known for being very problematic, she is aggressive both physically and verbally, and those she doesn't like end up very badly. Even in high school, he sent a girl to the hospital, or something like that I'd heard."

Ethan snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh really? You said it yourself, they are just rumors; “She hasn’t done anything wrong to me.”

“Leave him alone, if he wants to get beaten up that's his problem.” Mindy said as she crossed her arms. Anika nudged him.

“Mindy, don't say that. You should not judge a person based only on rumors. If Ethan says she’s not bad, then she’s not.”

Mindy just sighed, exasperated. “And if our shy, dumb, naive Ethan says the world will end soon, would we have to believe him too?”

Anika just sighed and Tara joined the conversation. “Everyone has a point, but if I remember correctly, Y/n and I shared algebra class. He looks unfriendly, but that's all. She didn't look like someone who was going to rip your head off just for looking at her wrong.” With that, Chad walked over to his girlfriend and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Alright, I think that's enough. If our boy says it's okay, there's nothing we can do. Let's leave this discussion for later and better hurry up to get to our horror Friday before Sam gives us a lecture for not being on time.”

Ethan sighed irritably. “I would rather never have this conversation again if you are going to question my every action.” Chad and the rest looked at each other as Ethan took the lead.

Now, why don't we find out the reason you skipped economics class? Let's go back two days earlier.

"Shit!" You kicked the nearest trash can with all your might. You were in an area somewhat away from the main campus. The same place where Alan and his bastard friends brought Ethan to bully him. You usually visit this place when you want to smoke or need to vent your anger. In this case, it was the latter. You placed your forearm on the wall and rested your head on it. You were trying with all your might not to scream any more than you already had. You always had anger problems, and even though you tried to control them, you couldn't always. At least you never hurt someone who didn't deserve it, and that was already an achievement. Between homework, your mother, and the idiots at the university, you couldn't have a single moment to breathe. You decided it would be best to take a few minutes to calm down, before heading to economics class. You hated that class. But seeing Ethan's cute face somehow always calmed your- Wait. “What the hell was I thinking?” You wanted to hit yourself right now. You clicked your tongue and bent down to pick up your backpack when you felt like you had calmed down enough. “Wow, beautiful. “You may be a nuisance, but you have a nice ass.” You let out an exasperated sigh and turned around to see Alan smiling evilly. Your calm went to shit, again. “Thug, stupid, pathetic and perverted. Your adjectives are getting better.” Alan's arrogant and malicious smile disappeared. He approached you with an angry expression until he was inches from your face. “Do you think this is a joke? Last time I stopped because it wasn't worth it and I was already bored. Don’t think it will be different now.” “I'm not afraid of you. I've dealt with worse guys than you, don't think you're a fucking gangster. You're just a college student with a brain as developed as that of a fish. The only reason you haven't been fired is because others do the work for you, and for the love of god, buy a damn breath mint or something.” You scrunch your face in disgust as you walk away from Alan. Alan lost his cool and started yelling at you. “Listen to me carefully, you damn whore! I won't let them take my captain's position or kick me off the lacrosse team! I'll make that pathetic fucking nerd's life miserable until he does what I tell him, and neither you nor anyone else is going to stop me-” You didn't even let him finish before you threw a punch at his nose, breaking it instantly. Alan fell to the ground, groaning in pain as he held his nose. You knelt down next to him and pulled him by his jacket. “Dare to touch Ethan one more time and I'll make sure to stick the stick so deep in you that you'll feel the splinters in your throat for the rest of your miserable life. This is my last warning, Alan.” You said in a way that would make even a grown man tremble in fear. You got up and left without looking at him again. You definitely wouldn't make it in time for economy.

“Ethan, wait for us!” Chad shouted, reaching for his best friend, followed by the others. Ethan was going to answer him, but stopped when he saw Alan and his friends pass by. He…had his nose broken?!

“Ouch, isn’t that Alan? Who did he piss off to end up with his nose like that?” Chad asked, his expression pained. “Whoever it was, deserves an award. It’s about time someone put that overbearing, testosterone-fueled idiot in his place.” Mindy spoke up, stopping along with Anika and Tara.

The 5 of them looked at Alan, but Ethan was more surprised. It couldn’t have been you… right?

“We better get going, Sam and my sister should be waiting for us.” Ethan said before continuing to walk, with the others following him. It was a good idea that he did so, since Alan was watching him; he would definitely get his revenge.

The next day, Ethan decided to look for you to ask you directly what had happened with Alan. Maybe he was overthinking it and the idiot had simply gotten into trouble with another guy; but, still, he couldn’t help but worry, not for that idiot, but for you.

After walking around campus twice, he started to get upset when he didn’t see you anywhere. He was about to panic when he remembered the place he met you. He quickly ran in the direction of that corner of campus in hopes of finding you.

He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding when he saw you sitting there, legs crossed, a book on them and a cigarette in your hand.

You looked up from your book when you heard someone approaching. Your gaze softened and a small smile appeared on your face when you saw it was Ethan. You didn’t expect to see him there again, considering it was the place he was dragged to get beaten up.

“Ethan? What are you doing here? Did that idiot bother you again or something?” You asked, your expression changing to one of concern and anger. If he said yes, you would stand up to break that muscle brain’s legs.

“N-No, he didn’t bother me… I was just looking for you.” Ethan blushed. You looked worried and quite…protective? Or was I imagining it?

You stared at him for a few seconds, a little surprised. No one ever approached you willingly, hadn’t he heard the rumors about you? Yes, you saved him, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little…nervous? It had been so long that people avoided you like the plague that you got used to it and you never cared. After a few years, someone finally talked to you and looked at you without a hint of disgust, mockery or… fear. You preferred that to being betrayed and hurt again. After Ethan started talking to you, you realized that you felt really alone.

You blinked a few times when you realized that you hadn’t responded. “Uhh well… come sit if you want.” You patted the spot next to you. Ethan blushed, but still smiled from ear to ear. He took his backpack off his shoulders and shyly walked over to your side to sit on the floor.

Ethan put the backpack down beside him and you put out your cigarette. You didn’t want the smell to bother him or make him inhale the smoke.

“Is there a reason you were looking for me? It doesn’t bother me, but I’m curious.” You turned to look at him, waiting for his answer.

“I… yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”

“I saw Alan yesterday and… his nose was broken. By any chance was it you? I don’t care what happens to him and I-I don’t blame you either, I was just wondering…” Ethan scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, well… he was the reason I didn’t go to Economics a few days ago. He came here with threats and comments about my ass, so I broke his nose and gave him one last warning.” You laughed and looked at Ethan. He seemed to be angry, his expression was really… dark.

“I-I’m really sorry. “I didn’t want to cause you trouble. Now, because of me, that idiot will target you.” At that moment, Ethan’s mind was beginning to form disturbing thoughts, because how dare that guy threaten you? A girl as beautiful and amazing as you shouldn’t experience that.

Your heart fluttered at his words. Ethan really is a great guy. It’s the first time someone got mad at you. You thought he was really sweet, and you would definitely protect him from anyone. You wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, verbally or physically.

“Ethan, look at me.”

He turned around and you looked him straight in the eyes, you were very close to each other and only a few inches apart. “Trust me when I tell you that I’m capable of defending myself from a jerk like him. It… makes me happy that you care about me, but don’t think about it too much, okay?” Ethan just nodded and you smiled. You looked down at his lips.

The silence between you two was filled with the tension of the moment. Your heartbeats could be felt in the air, fast, synchronized. Your eyes met, and suddenly, the world around you faded away.

Ethan moved a little closer, unsure, as you looked up, caught in the magnetism of the moment. Your breaths intertwined, warm and soft.

Your faces slowly moved closer, almost as if time stood still. Barely a whisper separated your lips when they finally met. The touch was soft, a first touch full of doubt and emotion. But in a second, everything changed: the kiss deepened, more confident, firmer. The whole world disappeared as your lips spoke in a silent language, sealing a connection that had been there all along. After a while, although you didn’t want to separate, you pulled away to take a breath.

“This… was unexpected.”

After that kiss, you and Ethan started getting closer and closer, until just a month later, you both started a relationship. You told Ethan that it would be better to keep it a secret, as you didn't want other people to treat him badly for being with you, including his friends, who started to suspect that something was up with the curly-haired boy, as he spent less time with them. They started following him more often to find out what he was hiding…

"Seriously, I don't understand why they want to follow Ethan. Even if he's hiding something, he must have valid reasons for doing so." Anika felt somewhat uncomfortable following her friend; they looked like stalkers, and that was really creepy.

"You have to admit that he's been weird lately. Well, he's always weird, but he's been more so than usual." Mindy turned to look at her girlfriend in a mocking manner.

"Well, maybe he doesn't want to tell us what's wrong with him for this reason." Sam said, while pointing at everyone, including her. Tara, Sam, Anika, Mindy, Chad, and even Quinn were hiding in a corner of the local diner near the college, where Ethan had wandered in. The guy was sitting by the window, and seemed to be waiting for someone.

"And besides, why am I here? I came because I was told we were going to get something to eat, not spy on Ethan like we were CIA agents," Sam said, sipping her milkshake irritably. At least the drinks were good.

"Maybe you don't want to be here, but I do. I hope my brother's secret is embarrassing enough for me to make fun of him for the rest of the year." Quinn said, laughing before eating a French fry.

"I'm starting to get bored. Maybe he's not even hiding anything from us, and Ethan is just being… more Ethan than usual." Tara looked boredly between her salad and the aforementioned guy. "No, he's definitely hiding something. He's been coming in late, and he doesn't do that. He's too much of a perfectionist, even with his schedule. He doesn't spend as much time at the apartment anymore, sometimes he walks past me and I get the smell of cigarettes, and Ethan doesn't smoke. He smells like women's perfume most of the time, and I'm a hundred percent sure I've seen some hickeys on his neck." Chad said, quietly. Before he could say anything else, Mindy patted his hand for her brother, and pointed at a girl approaching the table where Ethan was. It was… Y/n?!

Everyone watched you from afar. They saw how Ethan stood up when he saw you. You hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulled him close to give him a small kiss on the lips, which he obviously reciprocated. You then walked away and sat next to him at the table.

Ethan’s friends were VERY shocked by what they just witnessed, not only because he was dating a girl, but also because he was specifically dating you out of all girls.

“This doesn’t make sense…” Quinn muttered, still with a French fry halfway between her plate and her mouth. She dropped it on the table, completely forgetting about the food. “Ethan has a girlfriend. And she’s…” she looked directly at Anika, who looked just as shocked.

“That explains why he’s been acting so weird.” Tara finally broke the silence, crossing her arms as she watched the scene from the corner. “The perfume, the hickey… it all fits. But…” she frowned. “Why Y/n?��

Sam, who had remained silent until now, set his milkshake down on the table and leaned forward. “There’s something I don’t like about all this. Why would he keep it a secret?” His tone was cold and analytical, always looking for the logical angle of the situation.

Mindy nodded, her eyes still fixed on Ethan. “Exactly. What could he be hiding? And why wouldn’t he trust us?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking we should talk to him.” Chad finally spoke, his tone more serious than usual. “If Ethan is hiding something from us, I think we deserve to know. He’s our friend.”

Quinn laughed nervously. “Or maybe he’s just afraid we’ll make fun of him for secretly dating someone.”

Sam shook his head, looking at Ethan. “No. There’s something else. It’s not just for fear of being made fun of… it seems there’s something else.”

The conversation fell silent as everyone looked back at Ethan, who seemed to be deeply immersed in his conversation with Y/n. Whatever was going on, they knew they couldn’t just let it go. Finally, Chad stood up, a mix of determination and curiosity in his expression. “I think it’s time to get some answers.”

The others exchanged uncertain glances, but knew confrontation was inevitable. One by one, they stood up.

The group moved towards the table where you and Ethan were sitting, their steps firm but cautious. Chad was the first to arrive, stopping right next to the table, while the others spread out around it, forming a semi-circle that enclosed the couple.

Ethan, sensing the sudden presences, looked up in surprise. His eyes widened as he saw all of his friends staring at him. “What… what are you doing here?”

Your calm expression faded and you simply sighed.

“Ethan.” Mindy’s voice was firm. “We need to talk. Now.”

Ethan gulped nervously as you watched the situation without saying a word.

“Talk? About what?” Ethan asked, trying to keep his composure, but clearly out of it.

Chad crossed his arms before speaking. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks, disappearing, coming home late, smelling like things that don’t make sense… and now we find out that all this time you’ve been dating Y/n, and you didn’t even mention it.”

Mindy spoke up, leaning slightly towards Ethan. “Can you explain to us why you’ve been hiding this? Because, trust me, we’re all pretty confused right now.”

“First, relax. You’re not interrogating a criminal. Second, I asked Ethan to keep the relationship a secret, happy?” You finally spoke, looking Mindy straight in the eyes with an irritated expression.

Everyone turned to look at you, a little surprised by the direct and aggressive response you gave them.

The silence grew heavier. Ethan clenched his fists on the table and finally spoke, his tone resigned. “Y/n didn’t want you guys to judge me… She thought it would be easier to keep it a secret for a while. We didn’t want to complicate things.”

“And anyway, what we do is none of your business, it only concerns me and Ethan. If you have any more questions, I invite you to sit with us then.” Your voice had a sincere, but also sarcastic tone as you gave them a forced smile.

“Hey, you don’t have to be so abrupt, you know?” Quinn was starting to get annoyed by your attitude, even though it was justified. You just let out a dry laugh, grimacing without looking at her a second time.

Anika sensed the tension in the air and immediately tried to intervene, knowing it would be best not to make things worse and cause an unnecessary fight.

“Guys, I think it would be best if we sat down. Let’s avoid any trouble, okay?” The others exchanged glances and simply nodded, taking seats so they could talk properly.

For a while, no one said anything, making the silence rather awkward. Tara decided to be the first to speak so the awkwardness would dissipate, even if just a little. “It’s… nice to meet you, Y/n. We have a class together, but we’ve never really talked.”

Your expression relaxed and you responded politely. “I know, it’s nice to meet you too.” The smile Tara received from you was almost imperceptible, but it was there. Everyone was surprised, they thought you would be ruder or just ignore Tara.

“And you don’t need to introduce yourselves or whatever, Ethan has already told me about you.”

Chad saw how willing you were to strike up a conversation with them, so he simply decided to take the risk. “Still, I think we should properly introduce ourselves. It’s a pleasure, I’m Chad, Tara’s boyfriend, and Ethan’s best friend and roommate. She’s my twin, Mindy, that’s Anika, his girlfriend. There’s also Sam, Tara’s older sister, and Quinn, who you obviously had to meet since she’s Eth’s sister.”

Mindy rolled her eyes as she sighed and rested her forearms on the table. "Yeah, yeah, enough introduction. Now, I'm really curious about three things. The first is, why did you ask our dumb, shy Ethan to keep it a secret about your… relationship? The second is, how the hell did you two meet? And the third is, how did a girl of your reputation end up with someone like Ethan? I mean, no offense, but you're like the cliché couple from a romantic comedy."

Your expression remained stoic as you looked Mindy straight in the eyes, making her feel a little uncomfortable. You looked away and crossed your arms over your chest before speaking. "I imagine you guys know my reputation, which is why I asked Ethan to keep it a secret because I didn't want you guys or the rest of campus to judge him for being with me. Our thing just happened, there's no mystery to it, and we met because… I'd rather Ethan speak for himself if he wants to."

They stared at you for a while, processing your words before looking back at Ethan for more context.

Ethan ended up telling them everything. How Alan and his friends teased him because he refused to do his homework, and how you ended up defending him, which was when he met you.

“That… is the stupidest reason to hit someone,” Mindy said, shocked at the level of human stupidity Alan was capable of.

“Why didn’t you tell us anything, man? That’s what we’re here for, we could have put that idiot in his place.” Chad looked a bit indignant that Ethan hadn’t talked to him about what was happening to him. “Why would I? Why would my sister or Mindy call me pathetic for not standing up for myself against those idiots?”

Everyone was silent, you just grimaced at what Ethan said. If they were able to tell you that, you’d really start to get mad.

Mindy and Quinn just hung their heads, staring at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Yeah, it seemed like they were thinking Ethan was pathetic.

Everyone spent the last half hour talking to Ethan, you only keeping the conversation to a few words as you intertwined your hand with Ethan’s and rubbed small circles with your thumb on the boy’s skin.

When the talk ended, Ethan’s friends felt more comfortable, even with you, despite the fact that you barely participated in the conversation. So much so that they even invited you to participate in their ‘horror Fridays’ as they called it. You said you would think about it and said goodbye with Ethan, since the boy preferred to spend the night with you, in your apartment. The two of you talked all the way back, quite relaxed by how this unexpected meeting ended. Who would have thought that this tranquility would only last that night, right?

The next morning, the sun was beginning to filter gently through the curtains, filling the room with a soft, warm light. You slowly opened your eyes, still half asleep, and noticed the familiar weight of Ethan's arms around your waist. You could feel his calm, deep breathing against your neck, and the warmth of his chest pressed against your back.

You didn't want to move. There was something about that quiet, that bubble of intimacy and protection, that made you feel complete. Ethan was sleeping soundly, his grip was gentle but firm, as if in his sleep he knew he didn't want to let go.

With a small smile on your lips, you closed your eyes again, enjoying those minutes when everything was calm, just the two of you, sharing a silent moment that seemed eternal. In that embrace, everything seemed fine, as if the outside world didn't matter. You knew that when he woke up, he would find that same warm, loving gaze that you dedicate to him and only him.

You carefully turned around, still in Ethan’s embrace, your bodies so close you could feel his heartbeat. You watched his peaceful face as he slept, his breathing slow and soft. With a sweet smile, you reached up and gently caressed Ethan’s cheek, brushing his skin with your fingertips, as if you were afraid to wake him up.

A while later, you both got up to get ready for college. You headed ahead to the bathroom while Ethan got dressed, and soon you were ready to go downstairs for breakfast. Between laughs and chats, you enjoyed a light meal, until Ethan set his cup down on the table and casually mentioned,

“I have to stop by Chad’s apartment to pick up some books I forgot. I don’t have them here and I need them for today’s classes.”

You frowned slightly, something inside you giving you a bad feeling.

“Shall I come with you?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer. Ethan shook his head with a calm smile, like he always did when he thought you shouldn't be worried.

“I won't be long, love. Go ahead to college, I'll catch you there.”

Despite the feeling growing in your chest, you sighed and nodded. You didn't want to tell him that something didn't add up. Maybe it was just your imagination. Ethan leaned in to give you a quick kiss and left the apartment.

But that feeling didn't leave you.

Ethan arrived at the apartment he shared with Chad, who had already left for college. He quickly gathered the books he needed and walked out the door, ready to meet you. However, as he crossed the street, he found himself face to face with Alan, the campus bully, accompanied by three of his friends. Alan smiled mischievously at the sight.

“Where do you think you're going, Landry?” Alan said, blocking his way.

Ethan gulped, he knew this wasn't going to end well. Before he could react, the four of them surrounded him and took him to an alley near the university.

Meanwhile, Mindy and Anika, who were on their way to class, saw from a distance how the guys took Ethan away. Without wasting any time, they ran to find the others.

On your way to college, you were walking alongside Tara, Chad, Sam, and Quinn. You were exchanging a few words when Mindy and Anika came running towards you, worried faces.

“Ethan!” Mindy shouted, almost out of breath. “Alan and the three idiots with him have taken him.”

Your face completely contorted with anger upon hearing this. Chad backed away slightly, scared by the sudden, dangerous energy you radiated.

“Where?” You asked with a tense voice, looking at Mindy.

“To an alley, near the college.” Anika answered quickly.

Before anyone could say anything else, you ran off, your legs moving on pure adrenaline, while the others tried to keep up with you. With each passing second, your fury grew.

When you reached the alley, your heart stopped for an instant. Ethan was being beaten by Alan and his friends. His lip was split, he was bleeding from his nose, and he had a dark bruise on his cheek. That was the trigger. Fury blinded you completely.

“Leave him alone you fucking morons!” You screamed in a voice that echoed off the walls of the alley.

Alan didn’t even have time to react before you lunged at his friends. Within seconds, all three of them were on the ground, bleeding and moaning in pain, while you barely showed any signs of exertion except for your bruised knuckles.

Finally, you lunged at Alan, knocking him to the ground, and punched him repeatedly, his voice shaking with anger as he said, “I warned you… not to dare… touch him.”

“Come on Y/n, tear him apart!!” Chad exclaimed, excited. It’s like he was watching a fight of his favorite WWE wrestler.

Mindy also seemed to be cheering you on and Tara started recording. The rest looked at you with shocked expressions, you really are like a beast when you fight.

Alan could barely moan in pain as he screamed for you to stop, but you didn’t until you felt Ethan’s arms around your waist. Your anger instantly evaporated, and you returned your focus to him alone.

“How much pain are you in?! Is something broken, Eth?!” You asked, your voice filled with concern as you caressed his wounded face.

Ethan nodded, despite the pain.

“It hurts a lot, but nothing’s broken, I promise.”

You sighed in relief, completely forgetting about Alan and the others. You took Ethan by the hand, quickly leading him out of the alley, heading to Sam’s apartment to tend to his wounds.

Those guys would definitely never touch your cute boy again.

Who wouldn't become a WWE wrestler to protect baby Ethan?

#scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x y/n

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bless-my-demons · 15 hours ago

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Scared Of Losing You

Paul Lahote x Reader

Summary: It was just an accident, what is the infamous big bad Paul Lahote afraid of?

Losing his imprint, that’s what.

Warnings: hurt/comfort followed by fluff of course and curse words - PG-13.

Notes: This is literally just a one-shot that would not leave me alone so I had to get it out! It’s all in reader’s pov with no physical description and gender neutral for the most part I think. I also listened to The Wire by the Vancouver Sleep Clinic while I was writing this, if you want the right vibes✨ enjoy my first Paul fic!

Word count: 1700

Masterlist

Beep… beep… beep…

The constant tone is almost soothing, almost, but not quite - there’s too much pain.

The hospital sheets crinkle as I try to shift to find a more comfortable position, but a soft inhale has my eyes snapping open against the bright light above my bed to search for the source of the sound.

“Sam?” I try to keep my voice low, but it comes out as more of a dry croak.

Sam leans forward in his chair to reach for the cup of ice on the tray near my bed, “Yeah, kid.” He keeps his own voice quiet, but I can hear the tiredness in the deep rumble.

It’s after my first sip of cold water that I take in everyone piled in my room. Embry, Quil, Jared, even Jacob - the boys are sprawled out on various chairs and couches, all completely knocked out and some of them even snoring lightly.

But there’s another, Paul. And my heart beats a little faster taking him in, the heart monitor giving me away.

“He’s been here the whole time, hasn’t even left to shower.” Sam shifts back into his chair positioned next to the foot of my bed, directly across from his best friend on the other side, his eyes worrying over said man. “To be fair, none of us have been able to leave.”

“Sam-” I’m speechless for a few seconds, “what happened?”

He loosens a sigh so deep, it pulls something in my chest. God, how long have I been here? Looking over Paul’s sleeping form, I try to put the pieces together - his head is buried face-down in his crossed arms, leaning on the end of my bed near my left leg, one of his warm hands wrapped around my ankle-my uninjured ankle. His shirt is rumbled, but I can see stubble on his cheek peeking out from where his face is hidden. If it weren’t for the pain, I’d be an absolute hot mess at the physical contact; the way his large hand easily wraps around my ankle, how warm my side is due to the heat emanating from this mountain of a man despite the cold of the hospital room.

“You were in a car accident leaving the reservation after your dinner with Emily. You didn’t text her when she expected you to be home, you didn’t answer your phone and it went straight to voicemail…” I can see the genuine concern on his face as he recalls it, “When we got there, Chief Swan was already on scene.”

“How bad? How long have I been here?” I can feel my throat starting to constrict, my heart rate starting to tick a little faster.

Sam’s eyes flick to the monitor, brotherly worry written all over the creases in between his eyebrows and the hard press of his lips.

“Three days.” This time it’s not Sam that answers, it’s the deep tenor that invades my dreams as well as damn near every waking thought of mine, Paul Lahote.

My head whips to meet his intense gaze so fast that it makes me slightly nauseous, his hand lightly squeezing my ankle in a way that tugs at another string in my chest.

“Going for coffee, I’ll bring you back one.” Sam rises from his seat and I panic slightly, he’s leaving me with Paul. Paul Lahote, the guy I have an insanely intense crush on, the guy that doesn’t do feelings. The panic subsides quickly though, I giggle slightly at Sam trying to wake up and usher the boys still half-asleep out of my room.

The door clicks behind them, silencing their grumbles and their absence echos in the room. Sucking all the air out with their departure, it’s damn near impossible to meet his eyes again.

“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and hush in his voice is unfair, coupled with the gentle swipe of his thumb over the skin of my ankle. Damn, he doesn’t fight fair.

It’s like a magnet, the way my eyes draw back to his. They look so fucking tired and it hurts.

“Three cracked ribs, a fractured orbital bone, a nicked lung, and a broken tibia. Not to mention all the cuts-” he cuts himself off, hands and gaze running over my uninjured leg like he’s trying to reinforce something inside himself.

“Paul-” He stills at his name, eyes closing, inhaling deep. “Paul.”

Finally he turns to me, eyes opening and showing the slightest bit of tears pooling at the edges and its another pang to the center of my chest.

“I’m still here, what are you so scared of?” My voice is small, not sure how to tread this tense situation.

A wet laugh tumbles out as his hands abandon my leg to rub at his temples. “You.” It’s quiet and I almost don’t catch it over the beeping of monitors.

“What?” I ask, my voice taking on an incredulous tone. Surely I didn’t hear him right, right?

“You.” His eyes lock onto mine with full force, face set. “You’ve… you’ve wormed your way in here-” he rubs at his chest like it hurts and my breath hitches, “and I was scared. Am scared.” The pause hitching his breath, the tension is thick, “your car, seeing it flipped… it’s like the world stopped and I couldn’t hear anything-couldn’t think straight, but watching you getting pulled out, I-” his groan of frustration slides over my skin and lodges in my throat with the rest of my guilt. “I-I-”

His stuttering renders me absolutely speechless, Paul Lahote showing feelings? Feelings for me? Is this real life?

“So I haven’t left. Can’t. I can’t even think of leaving this room let alone going home and just being useless-”

“Paul, I’m fine.” I try to reach for his hands, but a stabbing pain in my side stops me, right - the ribs.

“Please don’t do that, don’t say that, you weren’t awake then they brought you in with that fucking tube down your throat-” The tremble in his hands stop his rant, drawing his attention somewhere else. His next words are a whisper, “You weren’t fine and nothing-nothing else matters.”

The conviction in his statement makes my chin wobble.

“Sweetheart,” he rises from his chair and cups my cheeks, mindful of the scratches and bandages. “Sweetheart, please…” the strong thumb swiping over my cheekbone only weakens my thin resolve and a tear spills over.

“I’m so sorry.” My voice wobbles, damn me for not being stronger, but everything hurts and he’s being so vulnerable and-and-and it’s so scary.

He leans down further, forehead pressing to my own, his nose barely brushing mine. My heart rate monitor picks up its cadence once again and that smirk I’ve always loved crinkles the side of his stupid, perfect mouth.

“I’m the one that’s sorry.” His admission confuses me, he’s sorry? “I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner how I’ve felt.”

My heart fully stops functioning and my mouth drops open at this new bit of information.

His lips brush my cheek as they whisper into my ear, “breathe.” My entire body is a live wire as I gulp oxygen down.

“You don’t have to say anything-” his immediate insecurity about his confession is too much.

I cut him off before I lose my resolve, “kiss me?”

His eyes widen comically for a second, as if he didn’t picture the possibility I could return his affections. Silly man.

His fingers gently glide under my chin to tilt it upwards, his eyes searching every inch of my face, like he’s looking for something.

“If you-” his turn to cut me off, his warm lips seal over mine.

Surely I’m dead. I must be, it’s the only logical reason. Either that or this is a really, really nice dream. The immersive kind, where it’s too good to be true. It’s a crime really, for lips to be so full and soft and just right-

The barely audible whimper that leaves my mouth when he pulls away a fraction of an inch is embarrassing. What’s even more embarrassing is the way I reach to chase those lips, but once again my ribs decide to protest the action, goddamnit.

Paul takes pity on me with a chuckle, resealing his lips over mine, thank god. No one should have a mouth this delicious, lips this full and warm. I’m a goner - go ahead and wheel me to the morgue, I can die happy now that I’ve finally found out what it’s like to kiss Paul Lahote.

His hands gently slide into my hair, causing a gasp to punch through from the goosebumps the warm caress pours down my spine. His tongue seizes the opportunity to lick past my lips and I happily swallow the moan he elicits right before he peels himself away.

Backing up and taking a lap around the end of the bed, I catch the flush in his cheeks as he blows out a long breath and grin to myself self-satisfied. I made the Paul Lahote flustered.

“Too much?” I ask, unable to contain myself.

For once he looks like a fish out of water, but before she could scramble a response together, a gentle knock at the door draws both our attention as Emily peeks her head around the edge, “knock, knock.”

Relief at seeing my best friend soothes the burning heat in my cheeks almost immediately.

“Come in.” Paul pushes the chair closer so that he can take my much smaller hand in his, careful of the IV taped to the back of my hand. I can’t contain the butterflies that erupt at the satisfied grin his mouth is set in, eyes glued to our joined hands.

“I’m so glad you’re awake and alright!” Her concerned ramblings fading off as the boys file back in. Sam clapping a hand on Paul’s shoulder and suspiciously empty handed with no promised coffee in sight, but I can’t look away. Not from the man that just flipped my word upside down with a couple words and a kiss.

#twilight fanfiction #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x y/n #Paul Lahote x gn!reader #paul lahote fluff #hurt/comfort

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rebelspykatie · 14 hours ago

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Part 5 - Steddie Angst Finale - Happy Ending!

ao3 - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

He settles back on the bench, apprehension clouding his features. “When you kissed me, I panicked. You’ve become such an important part of my life and I didn’t want to lose that. Something shifted in our relationship and I didn’t know what to do. It’s not an excuse for how poorly I treated you, it’s just the truth. I went into fight or flight mode, but I’m sorry for how I reacted that day.”

Steve hugs the blanket tighter. “You’re forgiven.” And he says it so simply. As if this hasn't been uniquely painful for Steve.

“It took me a while to make sense of everything. It never occurred to me that what I felt towards you was anything more than friendship. I know now how stupid that was.” He wants to reach out and touch Steve, connect them somehow, but he’s wrapped so tightly in the protective cocoon of the blanket, Eddie’s not sure how to reach him.

“It’s always been different with you. Everything I felt came on so slowly I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. The thought of losing you scares me, more than most things- and I’m scared of a lot of things these days.”

That gets a subdued laugh out of Steve. He’s all too aware of how much is out there to be afraid of.

“I didn’t have a lot of examples of love growing up. Wayne’s been single my whole life. My parents were fucked from the start. My grandparents hated each other after having their kids.” Eddie shakes his head, “And I’m not using that as an excuse either, I just, well, I didn’t recognize what was right in front of me, man. I never had any romantic fantasies because I didn’t think life was going to give me any.”

At that, Steve finally leaves the comfort of his cocoon. One arm snakes out and takes one of Eddie’s hands, squeezing tightly.

“But falling in love with you was so easy.” Eddie flips his hand over and laces their figures together. “You’re my best friend, but you’re so much more than that. It was there the whole time, I just didn’t recognize it for what it was.”

Steve’s eyes rake over his face, taking in Eddie’s sincerity, a soft smile appearing for the first time since they stepped out into the frigid cold.

“I think about you all the time. You’re the first person I want to call when anything happens. You’re the one that holds me when I wake up screaming from a nightmare. You know that I like to put ketchup on my eggs, and the way I can’t stand black coffee in the mornings, so you add extra sugar just to make it bearable for me and get the ketchup out before I even ask.”

The smile on Steve’s face is growing wider by the second.

“You have my entire heart. You know me inside and out probably better than anyone but Wayne. Hell, Wayne already figured this all out long before I did. Lectured me and everything. Called me a late bloomer,” Eddie scoffs, “as if he has any room to speak as an old bachelor who’s never settled down.”

“Well, he did have his hands full,” Steve chides.

“I want to argue that I have never done anything wrong, but we all know that’s not true. I probably put every gray hair on his head.”

“Probably,” Steve agrees. He shifts a little closer to Eddie, “so where does this leave us?”

“I’ve laid it all out there. Ball’s in your court.” Steve ducks his head, but Eddie tips his too, still meeting his eyes, “I’ve been miserable without you. Every time you’ve pretended to be okay and had to walk away because I hurt you, it felt like a knife to the gut. That alone was enough to tell me we were never just friends. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out, but if you’ll have me, I’m all in.”

Steve reaches up with his other hand and cups the side of Eddie’s face, one cold thumb mapping the curve of his cheek. “Eddie, I’ve been all in.”

With those few words, a lump forms in Eddie’s throat. He wasn’t sure how this would go, but here Steve is, offering an olive branch. Eddie leans in, pressing their foreheads together, closing his eyes and absorbing Steve’s heat, breathing in the same air. “You were never the problem, Steve. Not now, and not before.”

Steve breath hitches. The thumb stops its slow tracing of Eddie’s cheek.

“You read everything right. You’re so much smarter than people give you credit for, sweetheart.” He hopes that Steve believes him. “I’m the fool. You were right there all along. One of the best things to ever happen to me and I almost lost you.” He pauses, “I haven’t lost you, right?”

Steve pulls back and shakes his head slowly, eyes meeting Eddie’s.

“Good, because I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you again.” A steamy bubble of air escapes between them before his lips meet Steve’s. It’s a short distance, but it feels like Eddie is reaching across miles.

It’s delicate and sweet, their mouths moving together and hands gently curling around each other despite the awkward angle on the bench. They’re a little too cold to get too into this, even if their body heat is trapped between them and Eddie feels like he might implode. He’s all too aware that anyone could come outside at any time.

A part of him hopes that this erases the memory of how Eddie reacted the first time. A clean slate might be too much to ask for, but at least he can pour all his affection into this one moment and show Steve that he meant what he said. Just like the first time, Steve takes all the air with him. Rips it straight out of Eddie and leaves him panting, clinging to the lapels of Steve’s coat, if only that could bring him closer. They could freeze to death out here, but at least Eddie would die in Steve’s arms.

When they separate, Eddie takes in the flush to Steve’s cheeks, and he’s not sure if that’s from him or the cold, but his pink, kiss-bitten lips are all him. It makes him want to dive back in and get another taste. But he also wants to memorize the look on Steve’s face. There’s an incandescent glow that Eddie’s never seen up close. And it’s never more evident than in this moment how much Eddie fucked up. He could’ve been putting that look on Steve’s face every day. How stupid was he?

Nothing he can do about that now except move forward.

“I’m gonna flirt with you for the rest of my life and it’s going to mean something, Steve Harrington.” He takes both of Steve’s hands in his and holds them in their laps. “I can promise you that.”

“Are you promising me forever?” Steve’s mouth has curved into a bemused smile, but there’s something fragile about it, like Eddie could break him. Like he holds Steve's heart in his hands.

“You’ll have me as long as you want me, Steve,” Eddie says, heartfelt and laying as much of himself on the line as he can. Maybe Wayne wasn’t so far off with his comments about love.

“So forever, then?”

Eddie’s breathless from that quiet declaration, but he manages to get out, “Forever, then,” as fireworks erupt in the distance and they start a new year, and perhaps a new life, together.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes #thank you for reading #i had so much fun writing this #you're all gems for indulging me on the angst

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myjjongie · 22 hours ago

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CHAPTER TWENTYTWO.ᐟ ── i fear. maybe. maybe he wants you???

SYNOPSIS: you and jay have been at each others throats for the whole time you've been enrolled at decelis university. the reason for the rivalry in question? the #1 rank on the academic leaderboard in the university. you went through your whole high school life being #1 on the academic leaderboard. you meet jay, who also had the same upbringing in high school. things then start to turn into a constant battle. leaving you constantly in second place and jay in first place every rank update.

word count; 651

my head suddenly jolted up at the jingle of the cafe door opening. i immediately recognized the familiar burgundy hair that heeseung had. despite feeling calm seconds before. my heart was once again thumping in my chest.

the aching pain that followed alongside my heart beating rapidly in my chest felt unbearable. but all that mattered was me finally here patching up things with heeseung.

“hey…!” i couldn’t help but greet heeseung awkwardly. it had been two and a half weeks since we last spoke. the only natural way i could act was in total awkwardness.

“hey yn. how have you been?” heeseung greeted back. he let off a soft smile as he pulled the chair out to sit in front of me.

“i’ve been good. could be better?” i looked away from heeseung as i let out a meek laugh.

“uh… what about you?” now i was the one to ask heeseung the same thing.

“i’ve been good as well. happy that we finally get to patch things up though if i’m gonna be honest. did you order anything yet?”

i shook my head no at his question. “i have some plans after so i didn’t think of ordering anything…” the air fell into silence as i replied to him. after what felt like forever but was mere seconds, i broke the silence.

“heeseung i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. i’m sorry for running away from everything instead of confronting you and having a genuine conversation with you. most importantly i’m sorry i hurt you… i understand if you want me out of your sight for a while…” my voice broke the silence as my head hung low. my leg bounced as the creeping anxiety stirred again, while my eyes were fixed on the table.

“it’s okay yn. i get it. the situation was bizarre and out of left field. but come on yn lift up your head. i will admit i was hurt like you said. but i wouldn’t let this situation create a rift into our friendship. even though our situation is that of now cousins i still wanna hold a friendship with you.”

my head lifted up at his words. the anxiety that formed began to clear away at heeseung’s words. despite my actions he still held out a hand for our friendship.

“of course i’d still like to be friends.” the corners of my lips turned into a smile.

“i’m glad! and truthfully speaking. i was just as embarrassed as you were. who knew my mom’s boyfriend was your uncle.”

my hands covered my face as i recalled the events of everything. heeseung was just as embarrassed yet i had acted like a total asshole to him.

“god. knowing how you feel makes me feel even more shitty. please let me make it up to you! i’ll treat you to lunch, dinner. you name it!”

“i’ll take you up on your offer for lunch then. we can arrange it sometime in the future?”

before heeseung and i could continue one with small talk his phone rang. heeseung pulled his phone out from his pocket to look at it.

“oh i gotta get going now. gotta go figure some stuff out from a past meeting we had. i’m really happy we got to settle this out yn.” heeseung’s smile looked more happy this time.

“me too!” i couldn’t help but return a happy smile back to him.

“now that we’ve fixed this i better see you at the next meeting! i’ll text you later about that lunch though okay?” heeseung then packed his things getting ready to leave.

i waved goodbye to heeseung as he exited the cafe. exhaling a satisfied sigh i leaned back in my chair. finally the conflict between heeseung and i was resolved. once sitting back up, i fished in my purse to find my phone and text jay.

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a.note; finally hee and yn can be normal and be friends again. life is so good. now i focus on building the enemies to friends to lovers pipe line :3 also sorry if the writing portion wasn't up to par. my brain was not working with me this time around :(

fighting for first taglist (open) ...

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @right-person-wrong-time @jakeyverse @minthoons @punchbug9-blog @starfallia @heartheejake @ikeulove @rairaiblog @kazemiya @yourssincerely-mimi @wondipity @leehsngs @justalittle-hee @chandmyseven @letwiiparkjay @dylanobr1ens @bbsantc @beigerin @mwahvvis @nickiminajleftasscheek @firstclassjaylee @strayy-kidz @itrytomakesenseofitall @rikizm @sumzysworld @jiheonie @heelovesmeknot @qfeet @jungwoniee

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acourtofthought · 3 days ago

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Can I share a theory? I do think there is foreshadowing for a rejected mate’s storyline but I don’t think it will be Elucien. I think it will be Mor and Eris. That will be the “more to the story” that Eris keeps hinting at. Also the way Mor reacted when Azriel was choking Eris, she was pale and shaking for awhile after. Even though the mating bond can be rejected they still feel it so she felt Eris’ pain in that moment.

I agree. I've had a difficult time imagining any other reason they seem so drawn to the other after all this time, why Eris could scent that Mor had dropped off Cassian, why he left her in the woods for a reason that she's too afraid to admit the truth of.

The most plausible reason (to me) is that they are mates but Eris could sense where Mor's heart lay (that she was not romantically drawn to men) and the only way he could set her free in a way that wouldn't arouse suspicion from his father is to act cold and cruel and leave her in the woods after claiming she was used goods. And that storyline is one where we wouldn't mind seeing two mates not end up together. First we don't know what Eris's sexual orientation is so we aren't sad over the thought of him not ending up with his mate, he's never shown any sort of longing for Mor. Second, while I do think Sarah has written him to be a (sort of) good guy after all, we've spent much of the series feeling a bit put off by him. He was cruel to Lucien UTM, attacked Feyre on the ice, ridiculed Cassian and the IC, etc. and again, while I realize this all may have been a "cover" so that Beron did not suspect him as being anything but a loyal son, Sarah still hasn't confirmed that as the case and after 4 books I don't think anyone truly wants him in a relationship with Mor because of it. I know Azris is a huge ship yet nobody is bothered by the thought of Eris and Mor not ending up together even with all their interactions and I think that would still hold true even if they end up as mates. That really is the best way for Sarah to go about a true rejected mating bond storyline (where the rejection holds) without anyone feeling sad for either of the two that share the bond. Even if Mor and Eris always feel a tug to one another, it still wouldn't be weird because Mor does not prefer females and Eris has shown no romantic interest in Mor so that tug would feel like more of a familial tug than anything. When it comes to Elain and Lucien, we don't have that setup because we know Lucien longs for Elain and we know she is the most beautiful female he's ever seen. We don't know Elain's thoughts on Lucien's looks just yet however Sarah has already give us a setup where it would be odd for Lucien to end up with someone else since Elain has been written as the "peak" for him. Not only because the next best thing is something he already had and lost (Jesminda - who he once believed was his mate) but because his actual mate took his breath away with her beauty and he's spent over two years showing longing and loyalty for only her. That sort of setup does not work well for a rejected mating bond because there really is no true HEA for Lucien and even if Elain went on to have a relationship with someone else, she will always feel a tug to Lucien. Considering she is attracted to men, it's an odd thing to feel that sort of draw to a straight attractive male who you aren't in a relationship with and that makes for an awkward situation for all parties involved.

#elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elucien #morrigan acotar #eris acotar

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purinfelix · 16 hours ago

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doctor, doctor, help me - park jongseong ₊˚⊹

summary: after a strange encounter with a shadowy figure one night, you're roped into an even stranger routine of being a handsome fighter's personal nurse - but after almost two months of it, you've grown tired, even if he hasn't ──── street fighter jay x nursing student reader || sfw, angst, tension || w/c; 2.6k (holy moly this is the longest fic I've written in a while)

a/n: ok this is like the third time I've written a fic using this like ' nursing student patches up' trope BUT I CAN'T HELP IT i literally eat it up every single time and when i was watching the bts of the no doubt mv the idea literally came to me right there so i hope y'all enjoy !! <333

"You can't be serious."

The scold falls from your lips less as a response and more of an unconscious reaction to the man standing in front of you. You don't know what's worse, the several bruises littering his face, the split lip that's dribbling blood down his chin - or the fact that this isn't even the worst state you've seen him in.

It's not like you have time to decide anyway, because as soon as he shoots you that look - the guilty yet almost pleading half-smile, you're too weak to refuse.

"Get in," you huff, opening your apartment door wider for him to slip in quickly, and you glance both ways in the hallway to make sure no one sees him before shutting it.

"You said the other night would be the last time Jay," you say, watching as he stumbles unsteadily towards your couch where he falls with a tired sigh.

"Well, that's what I thought babe," he laughs and you feel something twist inside you at the petname, "but it's not like this business is very reliable, is it?"

"Well," you sigh, mocking his tone, "that's why I thought you said you'd be finding another job, one that doesn't involve you coming to me half-beaten to death every other night."

Your words are harsh, especially given the amount of pain you're sure he's in right now but after almost two months of this same routine, you're tired of it. Plus, you know what he needs to hear at times like this.

It had started one night when you went out late to take out the trash, only to be startled by a shadowy figure lurking in the bushes. After he assured you he wasn't a thief, and giving you time to catch your breath he was about to dash off - but the first thing you noticed was the dark red trickling down the side of his cheek and the messy way his dark hair fell over his thick brows. The second thing you noticed was the look in his eyes, rough and a little cold, but the longer you looked the softer it became until it was something vulnerable, almost bordering on fear.

You'd be heartless not to take him in.

That's what you told yourself as you tried your best to convince him to follow you back up to your apartment - knowing full well the irony and complete stupidity of letting a beat-up man wander into your home. He obliged and soon you were setting him down and fetching the first aid kit you had gotten in a recent practical lesson. In the warm light of your living room, you were able to get a better look at him - his bruised knuckles, dark baggy clothing but most of all, the amused, almost cocky smirk spreading across his lips as he watched you tend to him.

You were firm though, treating this purely as your professional duty as a nursing student as you patched up his scuffs - though you weren't going to let this opportunity go without at least getting some answers. After some questioning, and dodging his attempts to pry into your personal life, you found out his name - Jay - and what exactly he had been doing lurking in the bushes near your complex. Though 'working in an underground boxing ring' was an answer that definitely needed more explanation than you had anticipated.

Admittedly, the entire situation was a little entertaining to you, at least for the first couple of times - after all, it wasn't every day a handsome boxer stumbled onto your doorstep and let you carefully tend to his wounds. But maybe he had overestimated your generosity because he was soon back a week later, the week after that and soon it became an almost nightly occurrence - though you taught yourself to never count on his appearances.

Your patience was running thin, but your ability to continually see Jay in so much pain was running even thinner, even if this came out more as a harsh irritation than the careful worry you intended it to be.

"There's a thousand jobs that don't involve risking your personal safety, you know," you sigh in exasperation, pulling up a chair beside the couch he's sprawled upon. In his dark grungey clothes and messed up look, he sticks out starkly from your fluffy pillows and stuffed animals in an almost endearing way.

"Well most of those jobs don't pay half as well as this does," he laughs, pulling himself up so you can look at his face and as he does you try not to think too much about how he's getting far too used to this routine. "And the others, well, they won't even consider hiring a drop-out like me."

You grab him by the jaw, yanking him closer which earns a soft chuckle from him even as you force yourself to look stern. "Have you even tried? I mean, money isn't everything, you know," you mumble, "I know the convenience store around the corner from here is hiring, you could look there."

"Right because I'm just the kind of guy for stocking shelves and heating up ramen for people," he scoffs coolly, eyes watching as you prepare cotton balls of antiseptic.

You let out a frustrated exhale, beginning your work on his injuries in concentrated silence. He only sits there, surprisingly obedient, as you dab his open cuts, not even wincing in pain. After all, this isn't the first time you've patched him up and you're pretty sure it won't be the last, so this strange routine the two of you have fallen into brings an even stranger sense of comfort. Despite that, and all your efforts at professionalism, it's difficult not to get just a little bit flustered whenever you have to touch his face, or when he makes snide flirty comments that you're sure he doesn't mean.

As if summoned by your thoughts, he pipes up again. "But then again, that would mean I'd be closer to you, princess," his voice barely above a teasing whisper.

You narrow your eyes at him, "If it means I get to see you in that cute little apron and not like this then sure." He lets out an amused chuckle, seemingly enjoying you playing into his conversation for once. You lean back to grab more gauze from your kit but the sound of his voice catches you off guard.

"Have you got a boyfriend?"

Despite knowing each other for a couple of months now, you and Jay actually know very little about each other - having made a silent agreement since that first night not to ask questions that were too personal. Anything that strayed beyond names, jobs and how the weather had been was off-limits. This had mostly been your way of avoiding getting too attached to him, or whatever sort of relationship you two had, since you were sure that would only end badly - and you had been glad that he respected your wishes.

Or at least he had.

"Wha-" you stutter, whipping your head back around to look at him "Why are you suddenly asking me that?"

"Well, I was just thinking, if you do, he mustn't be that happy about you getting so close with some random guy you barely know, right?" He's leaning back against the couch, eyes wandering your apartment seemingly for any sign of male presence.

"Unless," he says again, now leaning back towards you, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek as he whispers, "You haven't told him about us?" You hate how low and teasing his tone is, and whatever it is he's implying, but you hate the way you can feel your cheeks flushing under his gaze even more.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't have a boyfriend," you huff, "and it's not like there's an us for me to tell anyone about anyways unless I'm complaining about the cocky jerk that keeps bothering me every week."

"Aah, I'm surprised," he laughs to himself, brushing off your jab at him, "figured a cute thing like yourself would've been snatched up already, but I mean, I think I like being your little secret anyways, hm?"

"Just shut up and stay still."

"Yes doc," he says, amused at your reaction but doing as you say and soon the two of you fall into silence once more - you busy with placing bandaids over his face, neck and shoulders, and him watching you carefully. But the silence grows thick and heavy, and soon it's too much for even you to take.

"So," you start up, a little awkwardly, "how about you, have you got a girlfriend?"

You avoid his eye as you ask the question, already knowing exactly the kind of irritating expression he's donning.

"Oh, what happened to keeping out of each other's personal lives?" he scoffs.

"I'm just trying to make conversation, Jay," you sigh firmly.

"Well, not that it's any of your business," you bite your bottom lip as he mocks your previous response, "but no, I don't. Well, I used to, actually, she dumped me less than a week before I met you."

"Really?" you can't control the surprised tone that falls from your lips, but if you're being honest, with his looks, you're shocked he doesn't have a girlfriend - or at least several girls chasing after him.

"Yeah, well it's not easy to date a guy that comes home looking like this every other night," he laughs coolly but even as he does you can tell there's an undertone of hurt, "plus, she always wanted to go out at night and that was when I worked."

You nod slowly, "right." Your response is curt, partially because you're busy peeling a bandaid but mostly because you're not really sure of what else to say.

The conversation falls to a halt and silently you motion for him to come a little closer so that you can have a look at his split lip. It's pretty gnarly, even though you've managed to wipe up most of the blood that was coming out of it. Carefully, you run your thumb over the open wound as you inspect it but this earns a quiet hiss of pain from your patient and you pull back.

"Sorry," you mumble quickly, eyes scanning his face.

"It's alright angel," he sighs, nodding for you to continue.

You do as he says, working quickly to place a small bandaid over the lip, trying not to think too much about how you can feel his warm breaths on your gentle fingers. It doesn't help that his gaze doesn't leave you once, and every time your eyes flicker up they meet his causing your cheeks to grow embarrassingly hot.

But with that, you've finished patching up all of his injuries and can lean back with a relieved sigh as you brush your hands against each other. He sits back with a smile, watching as you pack up your kit and return it to the kitchen drawer you got it from.

"Hey, how was that exam you had?"

You pause - brows furrowing. You had mentioned that almost two weeks ago, and he remembered it?

"Oh, it went well, I'm surprised you remembered that."

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, and you'd think he was teasing you again until you poke your head around the corner and catch his earnest expression. "You told me, so I remembered."

"Well, yeah," you scoff, "but you were like half asleep and also in intense pain, I was just trying to talk to distract you from it."

He nods, his lip forming a thin line as he hangs his head with a soft laugh to himself, "Right, of course."

You feel a strange twist in your stomach, suddenly aware that maybe, for once, he wasn't trying to pry into your life for the sake of annoying you, but maybe trying to get to know you a little better. Still, the opportunity has left and now you continue your routine like always.

"So, you're all good?" you say, trailing back into the living room, "need any painkillers?" He shakes his head silently, slender fingers fiddling with the material on his pants as he bounces his knee almost impatiently.

Usually, this is the part where he leaves. Once you've served your purpose, done your job of fixing him up and exchanged small talk there's no reason for him to stick around anyway - it's not like the two of you are friends, or even know each other that well for that matter. At first, this fact seemed natural but the longer this weird relationship stretches on for, the more you find yourself dreading each of his departures. You're not sure why, since you scold him every time he reappears, but a small part of you feels a certain relief seeing him at your doorstep, even if he is struggling to hold himself up - because at least you get to see him again, even if just for one night.

"I should go, right?" he hums right on cue, looking up at you with a conflicted look - almost as if he's begging you to tell him otherwise.

"Well," you begin, chewing your bottom lip in thought, taking his silent plea to heart, "your injuries are pretty bad, so if you want you can rest here for a little longer." You rub the back of your neck in an attempt to make your request sound a little more casual than it actually is, but you should've known he'd catch on too fast.

"Are you asking me to stay the night?" He asks, the side of his mouth quirked up in an amused, but also touched, smirk.

"Don't make me change my mind, Jay," your sternness returns and he only holds his hands up in surrender as he nods with a soft laugh.

"Got it." He looks around, "is it alright if I just crash here then?"

You nod, "If you need anything just call out, alright? My room's just over there." You watch as he makes himself comfortable, stretching out across your couch which he barely fits on given his height. As he does you finally get a glimpse of the fatigue washing over him as he lays his head down on one of your fluffy pillows.

"Goodnight Jay," you call as you start making your way to your room, flicking off the living room light as you do.

"Goodnight doc," he replies in a lighthearted tone, and you pause at your doorway to get one last glance at him. He's already drifting off when you do, and despite your better judgement you can't help but smile to yourself at how peaceful he looks - a stark contrast to his usually cocky demeanour.

Maybe in another life, you two didn't meet the way you did. Maybe he had a job that didn't involve him putting his life on the line just to make a living, or you could help in a way other than just cleaning up his collateral damage, in a way that really mattered. Maybe you two could have real conversations about your days, without having to skip over the personal details. Maybe, just maybe, you might get to see him during the daytime, face illuminated by something other than your living room lamp and uninjured, for once.

But exhaustion quickly hits you too, forcing your thoughts to a stop. Settling into your own bed you couldn't help but pause to wonder if letting him stay the night was crossing the imaginary line you'd drawn since the first night, bridging the gap you'd sworn to keep between you and Jay. But as you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, the knowledge of him safe in the next room over enough to calm your mind, you find yourself strangely okay with that possibility.

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