#anyways time to get to back to the absolute crack I decided to write as a joke

[pedroshotwifey]

what about a drabble about a first date with logan who's trying so so hard to have manners and be a gentleman but he's nervous and keeps messing up and its so adorable and cute????? of course reader tells him to chill out and be his normal fucking self because that's who she likes. I felt so bad for him in a clip that's circulating on tiktok where someone says to him that he's not the kind of guy they'd take home bc that's only for good guys

Okay so I loved this so much and then I got excited ab writing Logan and it turned into more of a fic than a drabble, but here it is 😭

First time writing him so I hope it sounds alright! I did use a little something from the recent movie to add a bit of oomph to the ending. Again, thank you much for this request, it's so cute 🥰

Just realized I made it an f!reader insert, but if you want to message me, I can easily switch some things around and repost if you want a diff reader!

The Right Guy

Pairing: f!reader x Logan/Wolverine

W/C: 1.1k

Fluff/diet angst, Just a few F bombs here, nothing bad (they told me absolutely no coke)

******

You scold yourself as you check the small watch on your wrist for the tenth time in ten minutes. In your defense, the time is absolutely crawling by. Logan should be here for your first date in about five minutes, and you’re nervous as hell.

You’ve been crushing on him since you were hired at the mansion a few months ago, so since he asked you out a week ago, your stomach has been constantly swarmed by butterflies. He’s sweet, funny, carefree, but mature—and not to mention sexy as hell. You really don’t want to mess this up. 

Lucky for you, it seems that he feels the same. He tends to be a little more nervous around you, his blush more prominent when you tease him. It both comforts you and gives you confidence. He seems to genuinely like you for who you are. 

Because of that, you decided to wear your favorite dress for your date. He told you he’d be taking you to a restaurant, but didn’t get specific, so it was honestly the safest choice anyway. It’s one of those that could be casual just as easily as it could be fancy. A few well-selected pieces of jewelry can make a world of difference, after all. 

You glance in the mirror, and then back at your watch. It’s right as the long hand makes a round to signify that it’s two before seven that you hear a sharp knock at your door. You jump up from your seat, slightly startled. If anyone had been in the room with you, you'd probably be embarrassed. 

Thankfully, since you’re home alone, you ignore the scare and head for your front door. You take one more deep breath and pull on the knob to reveal your handsome date. You look Logan up and down, expecting his usual outfit—blue jeans, a white shirt, and either his leather or jean jacket. What you get instead, is a suit. You have to make a physical effort to not show your confusion. Okay, maybe you expected a nicer shirt or something—ironed jeans if he really wanted to go crazy—but a suit? 

“Oh, hey!” Unfortunately, it’s a bit harder to keep the confusion out of your voice. Don’t get it wrong, it’s nice of him to try to dress up for you, and he does look very nice, but he doesn’t look like Logan. Your eyes catch on his hair—the usual tufts you love so much look to be somewhat flattened by a gel. 

It’s while you’re distracted by this that he reveals a hidden hand holding a bouquet of flowers—your favorite, actually. So why do you feel almost…disappointed? No, that can’t be it. It’s so cute that he’s putting all this effort in for you, but you really just want the normal Logan.

“Oh, wow,” you say, trying to shake off whatever this strange feeling is. “Thank you, Logan.” 

You carefully accept the flowers and step aside to let him inside while you put them in water. It’s strange that he hasn’t said anything else yet. Wait, should you say something? No, he usually says something. There’s usually a joke cracked by now. It’s weird that he’s not, right? Ugh, maybe it’s you being weird? The awkward tension between the two of you is suffocating.

You’re almost disoriented with your overthinking as you move about your kitchen, pulling down a vase to fill with tap water. Logan, of course, notices. 

He softly clears his throat. “Everything alright?”

You set the vase down on your island and look at him, lips pursed. Should you say something? Well shit, he probably sees something wrong by now—you’re staring at him like you want to say something. Damn it. 

You open your mouth and close it again. How do you even say what you want to say though? 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you lie. Right to his face. 

You smile and walk back to him, trying your best to ignore the expression on his face. Great, now you’re being weird, too. Why the fuck is this weird? 

You breathe out as you close and lock your door, mentally prepping yourself for what you’re really hoping will be a good date. Logan’s waiting for you next to his—

Car? 

Where the fuck is his bike? 

Whatever—it doesn’t matter, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. It’s probably just in the shop or something. 

You give him a tight-lipped smile as you walk to the vehicle, and he opens the passenger door for you. You slide into the seat and wait for him to shut the door before exhaling again. This is all very sweet, but you’ve got to say something. 

You stare at him as he gets into the driver’s seat. Again, he notices. There’s a thick, momentary silence.

“Look, bub, whatever it is, I—”

“You’re not acting like you,” you blurt. 

He stares at you for a second, but you’re pretty sure he knows exactly what you’re saying. You’re pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. 

“Logan, you don’t have to put on this show for me,” you say as gently as you can, though it comes out maybe a tad aggravated.

He lets out a slow exhale through his nose and closes his eyes for a blink. You feel bad pointing it out, but there’s no way you can go through a whole date with this stiff act. He opens his eyes back and you offer him a sympathetic smile, your hand reaching out to cup his jaw. He leans into your touch, his own hand coming to envelop yours. 

“I want to go on a date with the Logan I already know, with his bike, and his blue jeans—you move your hand to his hair, messing it up enough to loosen the gel hold—and his crazy ass looking hair.” 

He huffs a laugh, looking at you with tired eyes. You understand how much he must have stressed over all the little details he put in for you. 

“It was very sweet of you to do all this, but you don’t need to perform for me, Lo.” 

He nods slowly, taking a moment to think over everything. “It’s been a long time since I took a chance with somebody,” he confesses, his gruff voice holding an emotion that makes your heart ache for him. “I wanted to be the right guy for you.” 

Your stomach flips. “Logan, you are the right guy for me. You’re always the right guy.” 

Before he can say anything else, you lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips. Surprise halts him for a second, but he’s quick after to reciprocate, his lips moving slowly but passionately with yours. One of his large hands snakes behind you to cup the back of your neck, the other gently tilting your chin. 

You kiss until you’re out of breath, and when you pull away, you let out an airy laugh. Despite the suit, he looks like your Logan again. Wild hair, wild eyes, pink in his cheeks. 

“C’mon, Romeo,” you tease. “Let’s get that damn jacket off and order a pizza and beer.” 

[readingwriter92]

So I’ve been posting fic for around 6~ years and been writing for around 7 properly, which means I have a lot of half finished stories and brainstorming and nonesense right. But man there’s such a different vibe to actually seeing the compilation of all the paper.

I keep a box of loose paper writing. Most half ideas some drafts of stories. Some just brainstorming or song analysis. I organized it recently into fandoms and ended up with 54 ish which is already so much more than I thought.

But there’s such a disconnect. Bc I’m like. Yeah just it’s been a couple of years but I can’t have *that* much.

Idk I think it’s cool. And yeah some of its my “cringe” really early writing but honestly. I still stand by the stories I wanted to write even if I might not have had as much experience (as much experience as a person with zero qualifications and the only formal education being a single writing class in highschool)

Idk no point to this just rambles. I just. I enjoy having that backlog and proof of my writing. If there’s anything that’s made me feel like a “real” writer is just the proof that I’ve dedicated that much time and resources to end up with physical papers for so many different ideas.

[harrysfolklore]

yn piastri fretting over oscar’s broken rib and oscar’s like, “gee you’re worst than mum” & nicole’s just like, “yeah i don’t need to worry about oscar when yn’s around”

the rumors are true: i'm obsessed with writing this little scenarios

read little bitch here

"Are you absolutely sure you're comfortable? Maybe we should prop you up a bit more," you hover anxiously over Oscar, adjusting his pillow for the third time in as many minutes." Oh, and do you need more ice? I can run and get some. Actually, should we call the doctor again? Just to double-check everything's okay?"

"YN, I'm fine," Oscar groans, "It's just a broken rib, not the end of the world. I'll be racing in Hungary next weekend anyway."

"What? No, absolutely not!" your eyes widen in alarm. "You can't race with a broken rib, Oscar. That's insane!"

Oscar rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's cracked, not broken. And I've been cleared by the medical team," he stresses, "You're worse that mum sometimes."

From her seat in the corner, Nicole chuckles. "Oh yeah, I don't even have to worry about you when your sister is around. She's got the overprotective mother role covered."

"Thanks, Mum," you say, turning to her. "My therapist has great opinions about it. She says my anxiety comes from a place of love."

"Yeah, well, your love is suffocating me right now," Oscar snorts.

"Osc, I'm just worried about you," you stressed again, "It's too dangerous. What if you crash? What if your rib punctures a lung? What if-"

"What if aliens invade during the race?" Oscar interrupts, mimicking your concerned tone. "What if a meteor hits the track? What if I suddenly forget how to drive?"

"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm serious!"

"So am I! Carlos nearly drove with a burst appendix, and he was fine!"

Carlos, who's been quietly watching the siblings' back-and-forth like a tennis match, pipes up. "Well, 'fine' might be stretching it. I was in quite a bit of pain, actually."

You whirled on Carlos, who suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling. "Oh, don't even get me started on that piece of stupidity!"

"In my defense," Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't actually race…"

"Only because the team had more sense than you did!" you exclaimed.

"Back when you pretended to hate Carlos but you were at the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was at the hospital," Oscar teased, making you roll your eyes.

"That's not the point right now," you crosses your arms over your chest, glaring at Oscar. "We're talking about your safety, not my past… concerns."

"Oh, but I think it is relevant," Oscar grins mischievously, sensing an opportunity. "Remember how you kept texting the group chat every five minutes when Carlos was in the hospital? 'Just being a decent human being,' you said. As if we couldn't see right through you."

You feel your cheeks heat up, aware of Carlos' gaze on you. "That's... that's completely irrelevant," you stammer.

"Is that so, hermosa?" Carlos chuckles softly, moving to stand beside you. "I didn't know you cared so much back then."

You shoot Carlos a look that's half embarrassment, half exasperation. "Don't you start. And you," you turn back to Oscar, pointing an accusing finger, "stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your cracked rib and your ridiculous idea to race with it."

Nicole, who's been watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, decides to intervene. "Alright, kids, let's all take a breath. YN, honey, I understand you're worried. But Oscar's right - he's been cleared by the medical team. They wouldn't let him race if it wasn't safe."

"But-" you start to protest, only to be cut off by Oscar.

"No buts," he says firmly. "I appreciate the concern, sis, I really do. But this is my job, and sometimes it comes with risks. I promise I'll be careful, okay?"

You sigh, feeling your resolve weaken. "Fine. But I swear, Oscar, if you so much as wince during that race, I'm storming the track myself."

"Now that I'd pay to see. YN vs. Formula 1 security," Carlos jokes, "My money's on you, mi amor."

As you and Oscar continue to bicker, your mom and Carlos exchange amused glances. Carlos leans towards her, speaking in a low voice.

"Has YN always been like this?" he asks, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over Oscar.

"Oh, you have no idea," Nicole chuckles softly. "This is actually quite mild compared to when they were kids. There was this one time when Oscar was about seven, and he fell off his bike. Scraped his knee pretty badly. YN, who was ten at the time, went into full nurse mode."

"What did she do?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Well," she continues, "She insisted on 'quarantining' Oscar in his room for a week, claiming he needed complete bed rest. She even made a 'Do Not Disturb: Patient Recovering' sign for his door. Poor Oscar was going stir-crazy by day two, but YN wouldn't let him leave. She brought him all his meals, read him stories, everything."

Carlos can't help but laugh at the image. "That sounds exactly like something she would do."

"Oh, it gets better," Nicole grins. "When I finally convinced her that Oscar was fine to go outside, she insisted on wrapping him in bubble wrap before he could ride his bike again. Said it was 'necessary protective gear'. Oscar looked like a little astronaut waddling down the street."

Their laughter catches your attention, and you pause in your debate with Oscar about the dangers of racing with a cracked rib. "What's so funny?" you ask suspiciously.

Before Nicole can respond, Oscar, catching on to the conversation, groans dramatically. "Oh god, Mum, please tell me you're not telling the bubble wrap story."

Your eyes widen in realization, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. "Mum! You promised never to mention that again!"

Carlos, still chuckling, wraps an arm around your waist. "I think it's adorable, hermosa. You've always been a protector."

"Well control your girlfriend! She's trying to bubble wrap me again, I swear!"

"I am not! Although..." you trail off, a mischievous glint in your eye, "it's not a bad idea for the race. Extra padding couldn't hurt, right?"

"YN, no!"

[reiderwriter]

I’d love if you could do a very fluffy-smut with Spencer, like you had a tough case and the day after he calls asking you to go to his apartment and you see he has made food & made a fort to watch movies with fairy lights and just everything really romantic & it ending with very slow/soft sex🩵

A/N: I loved writing this one! Spencer is absolutely the type to build a perfectly engineered pillow fort just because you're having a bad day 😭😭 I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, soft sex, oral sex (f receiving), slow/ gentle sex, multiple orgasms, implied creampie/ no contraception mentioned :) tee hee

There was something about the cases that took you to the other side of the country that sunk the ache into your bones just that little bit more. 

It didn't matter if you were going for a kidnapping or a serial or a spree, you always returned more weary than before. The weeks work that you endured was never as tough as returning home to your empty apartment, to the cold floor and the lonely bed. 

This time, your case had a happy ending. You weren't sure how many more of them you were going to be able to live through before the bad endings rendered them null and void. It didn't matter how many people you saved some days because your brain was crowded with the names and faces of the ones you didn't. 

The drive home from Quantico was unsurprisingly quiet. Having landed in the dead of night, there were never going to be too many people on the roads to your apartment. 

You weren't sure if it was fate, or the fact that you hadn't eaten anything in the last 18 hours that made you pull over to the side of the road to pick something up from the 24 hour drive thru, but in the end you were glad you did. 

The second you pulled your car off the road, taking a breather and deciding to stretch your legs a bit before going in to order, your phone screen lit up. 

“Spencer,” you answered the phone, “what's up?” 

“Y/N, hey, I just got home. Listen, remember last month I was talking to you about that one indie film that I couldn't find anywhere? Well, a friend of mine from college just sent me a file entitled ‘the movie.’” 

You weren't sure if it was Spencer’s enthusiasm or just the way you were always ready to drop anything to do something with him that had you giggling and nodding along. You didn't remember the discussion, let alone the movie he meant, but you liked hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about. 

“So I was thinking, we're both probably not going to get much sleep anyway since we clocked out only 23 minutes ago - movie night?” 

“You couldn't have called at a better time, Spencer. I'm grabbing food, text me your order and I'll see you in 15.”

-X-

The drive to Spencer’s apartment was clear, but the hum in the air was lighter than  the silence of before. By the time you pulled onto his street, your mood had already brightened significantly.

You trudged up to his apartment softly so as not to cause any complaints and sent him a text to let him know you were waiting outside. 

You knew instantly that he'd received and read it - the garbled sound of the large man tripping over his feet in his attempt to rush to the door were the same every time you arrived. Stubbing his toe on some pile of books or the other was practically ritual. 

“Hi,” he whispered, opening the door just a crack and giving you a bright smile. 

“Hi,” you smiled back. “I bought food.”

“Perfect. That's perfect. You're… come on in. It's cold, right?” He guided you into the small entryway in his apartment and let you drop your keys with his as if they were supposed to be tangled together. 

“I have a little surprise.” He said, suddenly sounding bashful as he grabbed for your hand in the dark - you hadn't realised as he'd led you in but there were no lights on in the small apartment on at all, as far as you could tell. 

“What? Spencer-” 

“You'll like it, I promise, you just have to trust me.” You relaxed as he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you with him into his living space. His hand was warm as it settled against the small on your back, and his chest was surprisingly broad and firm as you brought up your hands to steady yourself against him. 

“Okay, now close your eyes.” 

“The apartment is pitch black. Why am I closing my eyes?” You giggled a little, surprised that your whole body felt so light and calm now, when it had felt so terrible only half an hour before. 

“Trust me,” he said, and you did. Truth be told, your eyes were already shut before the words had even left his mouth. 

“Okay, you can open them now.” 

He must have flipped a light switch the second you opened your eyes because your vision was blurred by the dazzling light when you did. 

Blinking through the adjustment, you started making out shapes and couldn't stop the small tears that pricked the corners of your eyes. 

He hadn't just invited you around for a movie night - he'd built a fort. Held up by a few chairs and piles of books, he'd managed to prop up at least three layers of blanket to surround the most comfortable looking floor you'd ever seen. 

You didn't even know he owned this many pillows, but when he tugged your hand down as he began to move into the fort, you didn't need to care. 

Not with his fingers gently laced with yours and the fairy lights he'd surrounded everything with, giving his skin a golden glow. You didn't need any explanation. You just needed him to hold you. 

“Spencer this is beautiful,” you whispered, sound dampened by the lump in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no relief. “This must've taken so much time. How did you even-”

“PhD in Engineering. I don't get much use out of it these days, but it certainly comes in handy.” 

You couldn't help the laugh that burst from you, the tears finally flowing as tears of joy. 

“Spencer, what is all this for?” 

“It's just because. You looked like you had a hard day, and I enjoy spending time with you.” 

They weren't the most romantic words in the world. They probably didn't come close to some quotes he could recite as easily as breathing. But they hit you hard and fast. 

You knew you were in love with Spencer Reid long before this moment, but there was no holding back the flood after hearing the sincerity in his voice. 

You slowly stretched your neck up and pressed your lips against his. It was fleeting, a small moment that if this didn't pan out, you could brush off as a friendly show of appreciation. 

You pulled away to gauge his reaction, but you didn't get to. His hand on your neck had pulled you back to him for another slow, but deep kiss, and it was as if your entire body was on fire in those sheets. 

You weren't sure how long you spent breathing each other in, exploring each others lips softly. You just knew you were growing desperate for more. You didn't notice that you'd climbed into his lap until your eagerness knocked him onto his back, forcing you apart. 

Your chest lay atop his as you both gasped for air, legs tangled, eyes locked as both of you feared talking first. 

After almost too long without anything said or done, Spencer chose silence again, flipping your positions so you were the one on your back on the pillows as he hovered over you, lips meeting yours again. 

This time, you made the conscious decision to wrap your legs up around his waist, hand tangling in his hair as you smiled and giggled against his kisses, so obliviously happy to be there with him. 

“I love you,” you whispered between kisses, not even hesitating for a second to contemplate whether he felt the same. 

“I love you more,” he said as if it were a competition where you both won in the end. 

You became more talkative after that, responding to every touch, every kiss with praise and a confession, a moan as his fingers pushed under your shirt, a shaky breath as they unbuttoned your pants. 

“Fuck, Spencer, please touch me more,” you begged as his hand toyed with your nipple, having discarded your shirt and bra quickly after receiving permission to do so. 

“I will. I want to know all of you,” his voice was strong even in a whisper, as he dropped his head to your other nipple to begin suckling and teasing you. 

You always thought his hair would be soft, had been tempted on multiple occasions to tuck a strand behind his ear, or just run a hand through it, and now you held it firm, pushing him further into your chest as you arched into his mouth. 

“I want to feel m-more of you, Spencer.” 

He raised his gaze to you as he let go of your nipple with a pop and quietly complied with your will. Trailing his head lower, he kissed across the expanse of your stomach, biting and sucking here and there to leave a path of markings in his wake before arriving right where he wanted to be. 

He made quick work of your pants and panties both, surprised that a man who never failed to bump into things in his own living space could be so graceful when it came to divesting you of your clothing. 

You couldn't ponder for too long as he dived between your legs, spreading you open like a book he needed to read and memorise. His to guess hit your clit quickly, and a few twitches and moans here and there showed him how you liked it, where you needed him and his tongue. 

You again got to grasp his hair  pulling him further into your wet cunt as you chased your high, needing so desperately to ride out an orgasm against his face. 

When his two fingers stretched you open, you practically drowned him, thighs clamping shut as your brain emptied itself of stress. 

You calmed down and watched him come up for air, fingers still slowly and gently pumping inside of you, reminding you that this wasn't over. 

“You taste sweet.” 

“I know how much you like sweet things.” Your juices glistened on his lips and chin, a few drops running down his neck as you stared at him with pure desperation in your eyes. 

“Spencer, please, fuck-” his fingers picked up speed every time you tried again.

“Spencer, fuck me, please  just fuc-”

“As you wish, Y/N.” 

He didn't bother removing his own clothing, though you desperately wanted to see his entire length and explore him just as he had with you. 

But after cumming on his face already, you decided you'd let him go with whatever he wanted. 

Shifting up behind you as you laid there, he gently rolled your body onto its side as he pulled your back towards him, giving him better access to your cunt as you arched into him again. 

He sank in slowly, almost as if he was scared to break you, but didn't stop until he was almost fully inside of you, practically sheathed. 

He adjusted his hold on you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck.

With deep, slow strokes, he made love to you. You weren't sure if it was the fairy lights, or if it was just that good, but you saw stars, saw them burnt into your eyes, watched them every time the pleasure felt too good and your eyes rolled back into your head. 

The second orgasm came slower than the first, but it was just as hot. 

“Y/N, look at me - you're so beautiful, I want to watch you cum.”

“Spencer, love- I love you, I love you, fuck, oh my god, I love you so much.” You reached for his lips but he pressed his forehead against yours as he whispered in your ear a final time: “cum for me now.” 

Your body wasn't one for taking your queues, but it responded to him as if he'd been the missing part you'd missed this entire time. 

Your cunt tightened around him, milking his cock as he moaned and released seconds after you did. 

You lay tangled in those blankets and pillows for hours after, and you weren't afraid or lonely anymore. 

[euovennia]

headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)

anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3

pt. 2

fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:

let's get one thing straight

becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task

while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend

the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone

i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself

and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone

but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack

cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before

naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave

but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare

think 👁️👁️

he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him

it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"

to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)

but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."

he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"

he does not spit it out

from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him

the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him

these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking

he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it

and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own

and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is

so what does he do?

he tries to block you out

it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity

and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)

and the two of you become quite chummy

well

as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost

instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you

it's a surprise

a delightful one

but still a surprise

his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is

despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts

so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold

it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!

anyway

simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic

you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it

he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off

he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover

but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself

maybe having a friend isn't all that bad

and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue

until one day you don't show up

while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now

you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry

even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?

but you don't show up the next day

or the next

and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry

and a little sad and worried

but mostly angry

who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)

if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face

he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room

he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you

but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks

you got yourself sick

tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you

which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine

you nearly cry in your haze of sickness

you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much

ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship

it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days

but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday

which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks

but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"

and most times you say yes

but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)

but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free

gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man

when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary

like

imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling

i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway

it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it

like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in

and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand

cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."

then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot

it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you

especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission

you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment

seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?

and honestly?

you're not quite sure yourself

you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to

maybe one day you'll ask him yourself

maybe you won't

doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend

even if he doesn't refer to you as the same

he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same

regardless

you two are very much attached at the hip

what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person

he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem

soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him

gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door

price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out

it's sweet really, the friendship you have

it warms your heart thinking about it

and it warms his too

even if he won't admit it

he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to

because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend

and he's glad it's you

:)

[slayedpoet]

some random Joost headcanons

i've had a few over the past months so i've decided to compile them into a list, but then the list grew exponentially so i thought that maybe i could share ☺️; they are mostly tooth rotting domestic fluff, with some hints here and there, but nothing too explicit.

(pardon any possible grammar or syntax errors)

[ALSO WARNING RPF UNDER THE CUT for anyone who gets too worked up by it, or the thought of it, please stay fucking clear, thank you bye 😌]

‌he ‌doesn't know how to cook but he's willing to learn if you know how to, though expect it to get messy, like flour on your or his cheeks; he also might try and "eat" the raw batter, which would earn him a few slaps on his hands.

BONUS: finding him sitting on the floor checking cakes and biscuits baking in the oven

he’s a golden retriever mixed with a great dane

like a big dog that is not aware of his size (affectionate)

he’d ‌plop down on you while you’re laying on the couch, and loves laying his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat; you’d put a hand on his scalp and he'd be out like lightning. you'd hear light snoring and he'd have the most peaceful smile plastered all over his face

‌does it even when you're in bed

‌super cuddly, straight up koala style, big or small spoon it doesn't matter as long as he gets his cuddles

‌he'll crack the worst jokes EVER, you're laughing though 😏

‌uses his height to his advantage some times

‌you'd be laying in bed late at night trying to sleep and he'd start speaking in different ways like he sometimes does, the noise box strikes again, and you’d end up laughing with tears in your eyes, "you love me anyway though liefde"

if you go to the beach then prepare to get ABSOLUTELY FUCKING drenched, dog in action again; knows he has to put sunscreen on but he’ll give you hell for it, running around like a toddler and you’d have to force him to sit under the umbrella to put him on him; when you are on your towel drying and tanning he'd just come back from the water and shake himself on top of you like a dog, drenching you, or simply laying on top of you while wet

‌pebbling, and it goes both ways

you love exchanging clothes, specially before he goes on tour: like t-shirts and hoodies; you sometimes like to hide one of your shirts in his suitcase as a surprise

if he has to leave early in the morning for tour he’ll leave little scribbled messages on post-its all over the place for when you wake up

‌pillow fort for movie nights (but even random nights); although he's too tall for it, but if he sits he fits

‌soft™ and warm

absolutely loves ‌scratches, specially behind his ears

BONUS: if you keep it up for enough time he might actually purr

sometimes when he kisses you on the cheek ends up licking all over it

randomly bites your upper arm mid conversation

‌if you try shutting him up by putting a hand on his mouth he'll either bite it, spit on it or lick it

‌loves staring at you (not in a creepy way), just watch you as you do random, domestic stuff, but don't catch him please or he'll blush a nice shade of pink

‌when laying in bed together he sometimes lets his intrusive thoughts win and blows raspberries on your tummy, you’ll try getting him off of you, but he has a strong grip over your midriff so there’s no escaping him (if you to do the same to him he'll screech so loud)

tickling competition that ends with both of you on the ground with short breaths and happy tears streaming down your faces

oh so you’re ‌eating dessert and accidentally have cream around your mouth? he’ll lick it up no worries

‌something something oral fixation ok...

‌a literal menace™ and obnoxious (affectionate)

once he slapped your ‌butt playfully and you ended up running around the whole house chasing him to retaliate

‌he’s very clingy while drunk, cheeks soft pink and slurring dutch words

‌overly excited guy, if you’ve been apart for some time he’d greet you by lifting you up and spinning you around

‌writes you letters and sends you postcards while he’s out on tour, and adds little doodles all around

you’re definitely ‌getting woken up by some different music every day, although it's rare that he wakes up before you (it's the most random stuff ever too)

‌once you catch him doodling you, IT'S THE CUTEST THING EVER, god he's as red as a tomato cause he tried to hide it from you, but then you asked him so nicely and he crumbled so easily

he’s a ‌blushing mess if praised

‌leans into your touch a lot cause he’s a bit touch starved (just a bit yeah…)

‌can, and will, get himself out of situations thanks to his insane puppy eyes

‌tries teaching you Dutch in the most random ways

‌loves LOVES to hear you laugh/make you laugh, so he'll go jester mode some times, specially if you're feeling down and need to be cheered up

‌will go feral if he sees you wearing any of his albino stuff

‌fan of the good old calls, he insists specially during tour or if you've happened to be long distance

CONS: sometimes he calls at ungodly hours, but you'll listen anyway

‌dorkiest of all

‌takes his glasses off when at home, which leads to him having to squint every once in a while, at you and at things; which is like THE CUTEST THING EVER

‌sometimes you get home and he's laying on the sofa with his dogs on top of him in a cuddle pile

‌LISTEN LISTEN MUSEUM DATES he'd be sooo down for it

‌you take Polaroids of each other, some are cute, some well…less 😏

‌cheesy motherfucker named joost klein, specially during the most inopportune moments (more so during THOSE moments), so you’d slap him and roll your eyes at him while blushing and he’d grin like a cat who's got the cream

sleeps on his stomach, probably starfish so he occupies a good ¾ of the bed cause he’s so tall and lanky, and you’ll have no option but to adjust

(btw i forgot one thing: if any of you lovely writers wants to take any of these and put them in fics, go ahead 🙏🥹)

[shotmrmiller]

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS AMAZING PLS IM SOBBING I LOVE IT SO MUCH GIVING U SMOOCHES

but okay so you sleep by yourself that night he comes home. you know he goes out with the boys — mostly on the weekends but sometimes the weekdays too — so when he comes home just a bit later than usual it doesn’t ring any alarm bells even if you pout a little. and you damn near run into his arms and snuggle into his neck only to smell — not him. something, someone else has touched what you thought was yours.

you pull back from the hug to look him over further. clothes mussed up, lips looking like they were bitten, a little flushed. a little like when you two —

you swallow thickly, throat lining with glass and tears as you suck in a breath. you find that you can’t actually form words for a moment, worried that only bile and venom would come out.

“did you fuck someone?”

he looks panicked — guilty — and you don’t even need him to say it for you to know what he’s done.

“who?” you ask, voice barely there, only able to be heard over the icy silence that followed your question. he replies one of the other pets. you nod, more to yourself than anything, trying not to scream your heart out at him.

but your heart cracks the moment he opens his mouth.

for the first time since you began living with him, you slept alone.

(you did scream at him. tripping over your words and panicked breaths and streams of tears. how could he do this. he didn’t call, didn’t ask. did he even think to? did he even care?)

you’re exhausted. too tired crying like you’ve never cried before, feeling like the weight of betrayal is crushing you as you sleep.

you almost fear that it’ll kill you.

the next day — friday — he knocks on your door before he goes to work. he tells you to have a good day. you don’t acknowledge him.

but you miss him. you absolutely fucking hate him but you miss him so much, it hurts. that particular ache is almost worse than the one of betrayal.

almost.

by mid day, you figure you should give him a chance to talk. he obviously feels guilty, and you love him. despite everything, you love him.

so you clean yourself up and try to look a little pretty for him, wearing a cute slip lingerie dress and bows on your ears.

you clean up around the flat a little. you fold his clothes — he’s been grumbling about it lately and always say he’d do it later. so you do it for him, folded with precision and left to sit on the edge of the bed.

you’re still upset and anxious and everything in between. the nerves make it hard to feel anything and you feel too sick to eat. but you nibble on some bread, knowing he wouldn’t want you to neglect yourself. you love him.

when it starts getting later, you decide to make him his favorite cookies. it’s been awhile since you’ve made him anything, and you’ve always enjoyed making these for him. the sweetest kisses tend to follow.

the night rolls around to the point where you know he’s off work. it’ll take him a little to get home, so you settle on the couch and wait.

but as the hours tick by, later and later, the worry grows and gnaws and threatens to split you from the inside out.

maybe he’s out with the boys again? you’d think, given the circumstances, he’d want to come home to you. but old habits die hard, you suppose.

but it gets later. and later.

later than he ever would be out even when things were perfect between you two.

it shatters you. where was he? what was he doing? was he —

the thought makes you sick.

he comes home after midnight. after you wretched in the toilet and cried yourself to sleep — again.

didn’t he love you too?

he sees the cookies put away in a container and a pit grows in his stomach, a void ready to eat his heart. whatever is left of it, anyways.

there’s a note sitting on the top.

“sleep well.”

the writing was shaky and it looks like a few tears spilled onto the words as you wrote them.

your usual xoxo at the bottom was crossed out.

you beat me to it:)

you bloody beat me to it. Fool me once.

your eyes are blank as if the life had all but faded from them, and in a way, they had.

Sitting him down, you calmly, (calmly, because there is nothing in you left other than acceptance, and youll be damned before you ever beg a man to want you) say, "I'll be leaving in the morning."

He tries to say something but nothing he could ever say will fix what he chose to break. "No, the fact that i'm even bothering to tell you is a courtesy you don't deserve. You've made your bed, now continue to lie in it with whoever you keep seeing after work." Smoothly, you get up and walk towards your room.

There is no rancor in your heart for whoever it is he's been with. After all, the one in the relationship with you was him.

You stuff a towel under the door, covering the gap, and clutch your collar to your chest, letting the last tears youll ever cry over him track down your cheeks. He doesn't deserve to see nor hear your pain.

You call an uber while he's at work and disappear.

When he comes back home, the place is dark and empty. He sits at the dinner table alone, with two fingers of whiskey in front of him, and in his hand is the last note you left him, stiff with dried tears and an xoxo at the very bottom.

What makes him crumble is when he sees the glint of your personalized collar on his nightstand, and it finally hits him that you're gone. For good.

listening to eurielle while writing epic sad is just chefs kiss.

[forever-rogue]

Hi darling 🥰 I love, absolutely love the way you write Eddie and I have an idea for a fic! Maybe reader is Eddie's best friend forever (she has the same style, taste in music, also plays D&D, has tattoos, colorful hair) she is also in love with Eddie, but for some reason she thinks Eddie is attracted to cheerleaders and would never pay attention to her sooo she gets quiet and closed off, she's hurt and sad, she feels not enough but our dear boy finally gets the truth out of her and shows her his love, that she's the only one who really matters to him 🥹 If you are ok with it they have romantic sex but no pressure! Love ya!

AN | Friends to lovers! Fools in love! Requited pining 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He had a pretty smile. A really fuckin’ pretty smile. 

It had been one of the first things you’d noticed about him when you met him as an awkward pre-teen. Now it was one of your favorite things about him. Among everything else, but you know, that wasn’t important. Sure, you were in love with Eddie Munson, also known as your best friend, but that was beside the point. Well…maybe it was the whole point. 

But none of that mattered. Because while you were in love with your dorky, funny, and hot best friend, nothing was ever going to change. While you were like him in so many ways, and people always presumed the two of you were dating (to which Eddie liked to remind people that you were platonic with a capital p), you were absolutely not his type. God, it's brutal out here.

No, his type was soft, ultra feminine, pastel pretty girls, bonus points if they were cheerleaders. If you had to sum it down to a singular person, Chrissy Cunningham fit the bill. And, honestly, you couldn’t even blame him. Not only was she pretty, smart, and funny, she was also kind. She’d never had so much as a singular rude thing to say and that made you want to hate her even more. Eddie was infatuated with her and all you were was his best friend. And it fucking sucked.

No matter how hard you tried to get over him, by hooking up with other people, trying to expand your interests to include other people, and even - for just a horrible moment - you’d tried to change yourself to be more his type, it never worked. Your thoughts, feelings - your heart - always went back to him. 

Eventually you’d had enough and decided that it was time to make a change. Even though you knew it would break your heart, you decided that this was the only way you’d ever get over him.

You had to create a divide, to set a distance and boundaries between the two of you. It was going to hurt at first, but that would pass, hopefully, one day and perhaps you’d both be better.

That was the plan in your head anyway…too bad life decided not to play by your little plan.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sweetheart,” ugh. Your heart cracked at the sound of the sweet pet name he’d always called you. Normally you liked it…normally when you weren’t trying to avoid him. He slid into the seat next to you, elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand. You could feel him staring at you before he reached over and delicately twisted a lock of your hair around his pinky, “new color. I like purple, it looks pretty.”

“T-thanks,” you swallowed thickly before staring down at your tray, your appetite slowly disappearing, “did you need something?”

“Umm duh,” he teased, “it’s Friday night, aka movie night, and I am making sure you remember since you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Which I won’t take personally, unless it continues on.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t forgotten movie night. It had been a tradition for the last five years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face a night alone with him. You drummed your fingers along the table, “I-I can’t tonight. Sorry, Eddie, I…forgot.”

“You forgot movie night?” his entire face fell and as you shrugged your shoulders and nodded slightly, “but we always…have movie night. How-”

“Look, I’m sorry,” you allowed yourself one little look at the boy before feeling your heart drop. You’d never seen such a sad look on his face before. You grabbed your bag before standing up, “I just forgot, I’m sorry. I…I’ll see you around.”

You were off and out of the cafeteria before he could say anything. You left him sitting there, staring after you with a heartbroken expression. You’d never forgotten, you’d never turned him down before. Not until today anyway.

Eddie decided that he wouldn’t think too much of it. It was only the first time and maybe you really did have something else pressing to do. He wasn’t going to freak out yet; he was sure things would be back to normal order shortly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Except Eddie was wrong. Very wrong.

Not only you had feigned that you’d forgotten movie night, you soon seemed to forget every plan and usual things done with Eddie. Whenever you saw him, you ducked around a corner or walked the other, or hid in the girls’ bathroom. You never answered the phone when he called your house, and never appeared to be home when he stopped by - which he knew was a lie. 

You’d gone from being thick as thieves to slowly drifting apart, and Eddie was scared that he was going to lose you forever. Maybe it was dramatic, but he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it….he’d even wager to say it wasn’t worth living. Call him dramatic, which you only did, but he wasn’t just going to accept you walking out of his life without some sort of answer. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was another afternoon of suffering through the mundane classes at Hawkins High. At least lunch afforded you some to go outside, to breathe and get some fresh air. You were sitting at a small table by yourself, sketchbook open and pencil in hand, but yourself found yourself lacking inspiration. It wasn’t until you looked up and stared off into the distance that you noticed Eddie. A small sigh escaped your lips as you watched him stalk off into his secluded little spot behind the school…with Chrissy in tow. 

The two of them were laughing about something, and that just served to make your blood boil. Why would Eddie even need you when he had pretty, perfect little Chrissy at his beck and call? He wouldn’t….he wouldn’t need you anymore. 

You slammed the sketchbook shut, but not before looking down at what you had mindlessly created. Of course. It was a quick sketch of Eddie, something you’d done a million times before, but today it just served to make the bile rise in your throat. 

This was harder than you ever dreamed it would be. You missed him…you really fucking missed him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You almost jumped when the chair across from you was pulled out. It was a quiet afternoon in the library, and you’d been the only one working in there…until now. You looked up and frowned when you realized it was Eddie. He gave you a small smile before slipping into the seat, “hey.”

“I’m studying,” you pointed to your books as if it wasn’t obvious enough, “do you mind?”

“Are you coming to Hellfire tonight?” you’d skipped out on the last couple of meetings, feeding one of the younger boys some excuse as to why you weren’t able to make it. It seemed to placate them well enough, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. You sighed lightly before shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you lied, “I’ve got this big test I’m studying for, I just don’t have the time.”

“Funny,” he mused thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what you told Dustin last time.”

“I have multiple classes and different tests,” you hissed, “besides, they’re AP classes, which require more work than the same basic pre-calc class you’re taking for the third time.”

And oh. That was a shitty low blow and you both knew it. You hated how it sounded as soon the words left your mouth. You didn’t mean any of it - you were just angry and wanted him to leave you alone and figured that might work. But Eddie, steadfast and sweet Eddie, wasn’t moved. 

“This will be the third meeting in a row you’ve missed,” he whispered, “you know the rules - three missed meetings and you’re out. And rules are rules, even when it’s you.”

“Fine,” you grabbed your books and shoved them into your book bag, “kick me out then, that’s fine. I’ll live.”

Okay, there was absolutely something going on that you weren’t letting on about. Eddie knew you better than that; you’d never just miss Hellfire for no reason and just not care about being kicked out. That was absolutely not you.

“Wait -”

“No,” you hissed through gritted teeth and stalked out of the library. But Eddie wasn’t made. If anything, he was more determined to figure out what was going on. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late but you weren’t sleeping just yet. You couldn’t - your mind was way too loud and incessant for that. Truthfully you hadn't slept well in weeks, but you’d adapted to living under a cloud of tiredness. 

It was the loud tapping at your window that snapped you wide away as you looked up from where your head bent down and stared at a textbook. You had no clue what the noise was, and wondered if you should ignore the sound. But then it came again and you knew that it wouldn’t stop until you examined what was going on. 

“You open the window, or I’ll do it myself,” the voice from outside reached your ears and you quickly pulled the curtains back. There was Eddie Munson, perched on the roof outside your window, ready to open the window himself.

“Eddie,” you decided to take mercy on him and opened it so he could come inside. He landed without any grace on your floor, almost tripped over his own feet, “it’s past midnight! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see you,” he insisted and you sighed as you sat down on your bed, shaking your head at him. He dropped to his knees in front of you and reached for your hand, which you just pulled away, “what is going on, sweetheart? And don’t lie to me and say it’s nothing. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and we both know it. I just want to know what I did, so I can fix it, I want to make things better. Please, let me fix it.”

“Eddie,” tears had already pearled up and run down your cheeks. Of course he wanted to make things better, he was still willing to try despite how terrible you’d been to him, “I-I don’t think you can fix it.”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted meekly, “you just have to tell me what it is.”

“It’s you,” you breathed and watched as his face turned into a look of confusion, “you’re the problem. And there’s no way to fix this, not anymore.”

“I’m the problem?” he looked so taken aback, so hurt. He had no clue what he could have done to hurt you or upset you, at least not knowingly. He’d never hurt you; he’d take the pain and brunt a million times over before letting you get hurt, “what do you mean? W-what did I do?”

You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and shook your head before exhaling shakily. You’d already made a fool out of yourself, might as well get it all out there in the open, “I’m in love with you.”

A heavy, thick silence fell over the two of you as he watched you closely and you just sniffled and looked anywhere but at him. He spoke up when he couldn't stand it anymore, “what’s so bad about that?”

“Eddie,” you turned back to him and noticed he had the softest and most gentle of smiles on his face. That just confused you more, “I can’t be your best friend and be so in love with you and watch you fawn over girls and date them and eventually…forget about me.”

“Wait, I’m confused…what do you mean other girls?” 

“Pretty girls, the ones that you like, like Chrissy,” you shrugged and tried to act like your heart wasn’t completely broken, “I saw you with her.”

“I don’t…I don’t like Chrissy,” he confessed as your brows knitted in confusion, “she’s nice and I was with her, to sell her some stuff for a party, and another time for some advice.”

“Everyone likes her…” you shrugged lightly, “you can tell me the truth, that you’re into her and all those other pretty cheerleaders. Besides, what advice could you possibly get from her? It’s fine if you’re into her, Eddie, it just…I don’t think I can be your friend and have to see you with her all the time. Maybe that’s really selfish, but it’s true.”

“Stop, please - just listen to me for a moment. I was asking her about you,” he professed and you looked to find his eyes searching you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times and Eddie took advantage to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “because you’d been avoiding me and acting like you hate me. I was asking her what I could do to get you to talk to me again.”

“Oh…a-and what did she say?”

“She told me to be honest with you,” it was his turn to breathe shakily, his eyes soft but nervous, “to get it all out there and tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, positive you hadn’t heard him correctly. There was no way that he said what you had been so desperately wanting to hear for years. This had to be you trying to manifest your dream into reality. He laughed nervously when you didn’t say anything, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What did you say?” your voice was so soft and small as you looked at him nervously, “Eddie?”

“I said I was in love with you,” he plopped onto the floor, sitting in front of you as he waited for you to say something - anything.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” he promised, “of course I do. I’d never lie to you. I…I thought you knew, I thought it was so obvious. And then when you started pushing me away, I got scared. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

You slid off the bed and flopped onto the floor so you were sitting across from him, your leg resting against yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat before leaning in to him, “I thought I was going to lose you forever too.”

He exhaled through his nose sharply, making a small sound of amusement before looking at you intensely, “so…where does that leave us? If you still don’t want anything to do with me, I can leave. Whatever you’d want, I respect.”

Your silence almost killed him as you seemed to be mulling over something. Every moment seemed to take an eternity as he waited for you to speak. He was braced and ready to leave, figuring you really were done with him.

But then, suddenly and surprising the both of you, you leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t even a proper kiss, more of a brush of lips, saccharine and shy. You sat back down, your entire face and body flushing with warmth as you looked at him nervously. You found the biggest and most lovesick smile on his face as his bambi eyes softened. 

He reached for you, his hands settling on your waist before he pulled you into his lap. You gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his action, finding yourself face to face with him. He settled a hand on your face, tenderly brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, sighing softly as the feel of his soft palm and calloused fingertips. 

He leaned in and you couldn't help but wonder what was coming next. Was he going to kiss you and then call it a day? Was he just going to leave? Was he-

Eddie quickly answered your question by kissing you, his hand going from your cheek to tenderly cup your neck. You leaned into his touch and let him take the lead. He didn't stop kissing you until you were dizzied and drunk off his touch. You imagined this so many times, and so many ways, but nothing compared to the real thing.

"I love you," he gently cradled your face in his hands and it felt like he was looking into the depths of your being, into your soul. You wrapped your hands around his wrists and blinked back your tears, “I mean it, sweetheart. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you like it wasn’t you.”

“It’s been you too,” you whispered softly, causing his cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink, “always you, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he sighed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that, sweetheart. You’ve been my dream girl since we met, you know.”

“That’s a strong way of putting it…” you wanted to hide your warm face, but he wouldn’t let you. He shook his head softly, clearly disagreeing with you.

“But it’s true,” he insisted softly, “can I kiss you again?”

“I don’t ever want you to stop,” you confessed sweetly, causing his heart to practically melt, “I want everything with you, Eddie.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you promised, taking advantage of his momentary shock to kiss him again. You could feel him smiling against your lips before he kissed along your jaw and down your neck, biting at the delicate skin to leave behind a haze of pretty lavender bruises. You already felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, “Eddie.”

“Can I make love to you?”

“Yes,” you pulled back to your lips and kissed him gently, “please.”

[suiana]

yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋

😻😻 rhanks genie

(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)

you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.

very meaning from when you were born up until recently.

you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.

unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.

you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.

perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...

but he just wasn't it.

so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.

except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.

you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.

"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."

"you know, you're really cute like this."

you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.

and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.

while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.

"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"

"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."

he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?

"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."

he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.

"I'm not sure why,"

his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.

"i guess i just really adore you."

he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.

"you complete me, my love."

you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.

but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-

"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"

...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.

[ironarrow87]

Hazbin Hotel Imagine: A Small Prompt

Summary: You were only trying to help. You swear.

Warnings: None

Notes:

Me: Give me a small prompt to write a HH short fic. It can even be 1 word. Bestie: ummmmmmm a prompt Me: Lmao I hate you, BUT ILL DO IT Bestie: no no wait, a SMALL prompt Me: Lmao youre the worst

As always, please do not copy or post my work elsewhere.

You didn’t mean for this to happen.

You swear.

It all started a few weeks ago, when you were eating your breakfast and couldn’t help but notice a certain someone pacing the lobby.

“You okay?” you asked tentatively, unsure of what mood the radio demon was in today.

His head snapped so forcefully toward you that you heard the bones in his neck crack. You wince.

“Why, of course!” Alastor’s voice was full of energy, but even you could hear the dangerous strained edge in them. Like he was holding himself back from absolutely destroying your damned soul. This would be a good time to make your exit.

But…you didn’t get into Hell because of your patience with dangerous men.

“What’s on your mind then?” You kept your voice light, your eyes following his movements back and forth across the floor. Even Alastor’s pacing felt threatening, like he was stalking prey rather than feeling stressed.

He looks at you, and for a moment, you think he will just deflect. He surprises you with the truth today, and you know he relishes the look of surprise that flits across your own face. Always one for entertainment. “I am just having some trouble coming up with a new story for my radio show, my dear. Nothing to worry about.”

Instantly, you’re interested. Alastor does not share much of his radio show aside from what is broadcast for all of Hell to listen to. “You write your own stories?”

He stills his pacing, staring at you. “Well, of course I do. In order to be irreplaceable, one must always come up with their own unique material.”

You both chat for a short while until you can see the subtle changes in your friend, signaling the release of at least some of the tension in his body. “What if, instead of a love drama this time…you do a friendship one?”

“Friendship?” he says doubtfully. “Would the listeners be able to enjoy the complexities and intricacies of friendship alone?” He hums, and you can hear a radio tune briefly mingling with his words. “Well, I suppose I’ve been catering to the more mundane for some time. Romance.” He moved his hands through the air, as if dismissing the thought. “Friendship. Betrayal. True passion! The greatest form of entertainment!”

You try hard to suppress a grin at the radio demon’s excitement. All he needed was a little push. A small prompt. That’s all.

“Maybe you could even write about a friendship gone wrong…you know..two driven individuals, working together to form their own little company…but something happens that drives them apart in the industry…and now it’s a battle between them to be the best in the field.”

Alastor processes your words. “Ah, ho! You seem to have a taste for the twistedly creative, my dear.” He pats your head. “Now! I must be off! Plenty of work to be done!”

You don’t hide your grin this time as he melts into the shadows.

-

It’s only a week or so later when you find yourself sitting in Vox’s office, waiting for him to get off work.

Yes, you were friends with both overlords, and it was no easy feat.

The constant squabbling and heckling often drove you insane. But, individually, you found that you enjoyed their company.

Most of the time, anyway. Not when you’re sitting here waiting for Vox to come out of his office. If he ever decided to grace you with his presence.

Finally, the door opens.

“Sorry, my dear, I got…wrapped up in something.” You look up. There are sparks flying out of his claws, and his screen glitches very briefly.

“Everything okay?” you ask, already knowing its not and bracing yourself for a rant.

And indeed it comes.

You listen as Vox complains about the ratings of several of his shows spiraling. How he needs to come up with some new ideas quickly before next week but every idea has already been done with the mass production at VoxTech. How the viewers are hungry for something new, something different.

There’s a feeling in your brain. An itch. You’ve solved this problem before, didn’t you?

“Well…the majority of your shows are romance based…why not do something on friendship?”

“Friendship?” Vox looks at you skeptically. You smirk and give him the same pitch you gave Alastor.

“I dunno…the majority of viewers are looking for the stories to end in sex.”

God, you really shouldn’t. But…it was just a prompt. A teenie nudge.

You look him square in the eye. “So can your new story.”

-

So, now you are running.

Shadows swirl across the alley ways, and you can see VoxTech security cameras swinging to face you as you run.

You really, really, didn’t mean to.

Both Alastor’s radio story and Vox’s new show were big hits. They glowed in the reviews as two entertainers tend to do. For weeks, they both tried to out shine the other with their complex stories. Both storylines were the talk of Hell. Everything was great.

Until Angel brought up to Alastor how similar the radio story was to Alastor’s and Vox’s relationship.

Until Val asked Vox if he was secretly dating the radio demon.

Both overlords fought constantly. Everyone knew that. But now, you’ve discovered something decidedly much worse.

You race into an alley, only to find yourself facing a brick wall.

“Now, my dear…let’s have a talk.” The voice was staticky and you almost didn’t understand it.

You turn slowly, mouth dry and heart pounding.

“Oh yes, a talk,” came a different the glitched out. The voice sounded like it was coming from all around you.

You face the long shadow with red eyes standing at the end of the alley beside pops of electricity and a burning bright screen. United as one front.

“I really didn’t mean to. I swear.”

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Helloooo, I’m not sure if you still do requests on One Piece characters or anything- but if you do I have a scenario in mind. I was wondering if you could do one specifically with Traflagar Law who has a S/O which gets injured and refuses his help. The S/O has a problem with accepting help and has trouble being vulnerable in front of others- only seeing it as weakness. This could also work for the other more colder One Piece characters…cause idk they just have a special place in my heart. (Though if you can’t that’s okay, but I thought I’d ask)

ALSO I read lots of your posts and absolutely love your scenarios and head-cannons, you literally portray all the characters so well and it’s amazing.

This is the cutest ask and thank you omg😭

I hope this is good🫶

And little trigger warning for descriptions of injury and blood at the beginning, I'll put a line so you know where to skip to if you don't want to read that bit.

I totally accidentally posted this so now I'm writing as it's up, forgive me😞 OKAY IT'S IN A FINISHED STATE I MAY ADD MORE AFTER I FORCE MY FRIEND TO READ OVER IT🕺🏻🕺🏻

I don't know if I'm happy with the length either i kinda feel it should be longer.

-

The soft, shlick of a blade through flesh rings in your ears. The adrenaline rushing through your body swallows any pain in an instant, but you can feel the pressure as it drags into your side and you wince anyway.

But you can't stop.

If you stop he's going to get past, he's going to hurt the people you call a family and so you can't stop.

His frame is hulking, freakishly tall and looming over you. The level of brute force he's exerting has your heart stuttering in fear, the staccato rhythm making you feel light headed. Though that could be the blood that's dripping from your side.

You hit his sternum, hard, and feel a crack. He stumbles, dazed, your fist comes up to head height and your aim is killer as it slams into the side of the man's head.

He's out cold.

The sigh of relief that exits your body almost overshadows the sudden pain resonating throughout your torso. Without an oncoming threat, you're able to take the time to lift your shirt and look at the damage. It's mostly mottled bruising but just under your lowest left rib is a long but shallow cut. Not life threatening in any way but still inconvenient.

It hurts to breathe and you're not sure if your rib bones are fully intact either, not with the way he was hitting.

The adrenaline is fading quickly, you needed to get him inside.

He'd crumpled into a very ungraceful pile when you knocked him out and it's difficult to tie him securely. But you do. And then you take a deep breath and haul him up over your shoulders in a botched fireman's lift.

Your captain would want to find out who decided it would be a good idea to send someone after the heart pirates.

Your captain would...

The last thing you think about before you hit the deck face first is him.

-

He's silent as he works.

It's almost unnerving actually, how quiet he can be when he wants to.

"Law-"

The look he shoots you is so intense that you physically shrink back, mouth closing as you drop your gaze to the floor.

He lets out a heavy sigh as he finishes disinfecting the last of his tools before he turns to you.

"What is wrong with you."

He's angry, you can feel it radiating off him, it digs into the soft underbelly of your emotions and you bristle at his words.

"I was just doing my job" Your tone is sharp but he doesn't flinch.

"Your job does not involved getting killed you idiot."

"Well I didn't get killed so it's not that big of a deal"

He looks like he's about to blow a gasket, the vein in his forehead pulsing with the renewed blood flow.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?"

You have the distinct feeling that you might've fucked up a little. That still doesn't stop you from digging a deeper hole to be buried in.

"I'm fine just let me deal with my own problems"

His eye actually twitches but you keep talking.

"It's barely a scratch, I don't need help- especially not yours."

The thunderous anger on his face is now accompanied by hurt, but his voice is soft when he says,

"Let me help you"

"I just said I don't need help"

"I don't think that you know what you need"

That stings. To know he doesn't trust your judgement after everything you've been through. There's a pressure at the back of your throat now and it's so uncomfortable, you need to leave.

But as you go to move, Law is much quicker as he grabs you by your upper arm, pulling you into his space.

"Where are you going"

You don't look at him.

He sighs before his other arm comes around your waist and he lifts, walking across the room to set you down onto a table.

"Why don't you understand that I care about you"

The emotion in his voice unsettles you, makes your chest feel tight and you really don't want to deal with this.

He's gentle as he gets to work on your injuries, easily cleaning and stitching up your side before moving to bind your ribs.

"I need you to remove your shirt"

Your hands are shaking, he hasn't really seen the full extent and you're sure he's not going to respond well. It's hard to get the buttons of your shirt undone so when a second pair of hands come up, you don't push them away. But him being closer means you hear the exact moment he realises how bad it is, his inhale is sharp and he says something in a language you don't know.

"Why didn't you call for backup?"

You take a while to respond, trying to squash down any emotion in your voice,

"I didn't need it"

"Did you want it?"

The question makes you squirm with discomfort, your eyes water.

"It doesn't matter because I didn't need it"

He sighs again. That's all you seem to be making him do today.

And then his arms are coming up around you, pulling you closer to the edge of the table and closer to him. One of his hands rests on your back and the other pushes your head into the crook of his shoulder, allowing you a semblance of privacy in such an intimate moment.

"You need to understand that not letting us help you is counterintuitive to being part of a crew"

The statement makes you flinch and you try to push away from him but that fight took a lot of your strength. His grip tightens anyways.

"Do you think I find it easy to be vulnerable?"

"...No"

"Do you think I would want you to die?"

You don't respond this time, chest heaving as you tremble.

"It's not easy to see you like this. You are not a human shield."

"I know" Your voice is quiet and thick with tears but he seems to relax slightly at your agreement.

The hand on your back is moving in gentle shapes, but his grip is still firm, as if he's trying to affirm that you're here and alive.

"I can't have a crew member that doesn't trust anyone"

You tense.

"I can't have a partner that won't be vulnerable with me"

Guilt and dread roll through your stomach. Surely he doesn't mean-

"I can't trust that you won't die because you feel can't rely on others so you're benched until we work through it"

Oh. You actually feel a bit relieved, you thought he was going in a much different direction. You lean back out of his hold so you can look at his face through wet eyes.

His expression is soft but he looks tired and the guilt rears it's head again.

"I'm sorry"

Somehow his expression gets even softer,

"I know"

He kisses you then. It's grounding, brings you back to a semblance of calm and you almost wonder why you were so apprehensive in the first place. He's gentle and warm and you feel slightly self conscious that your lips might be puffy from crying but you don't pull away.

It's reverent, like he worships you.

You think you could learn to let him take care of you.

You think you would let him do anything.

If it feels like this.

[aritsukemo]

Chihiro and Kokichi with a crush on someone who acts like Kyoko Kirigiri

Warnings: Major spoilers to Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc and Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony! You have been warned!

A/N: Been rewatching playthroughs of the games while I was sick and got the itch to write something! There was so much more I wanted to do with Chihiro's part, but kind of backed myself into a corner when I decided to write this taking place during the killing game. No worries though, I plan to write a bunch more Chihiro x reader content in the future! ( Can you tell I love Chihiro? Lmao- )

↪ Off rip, Chihiro was very intimidated by you. Your stone cold exterior and the general vibe you gave off was kinda scary to him.

↪ He didn't talk to you at all during the first couple of days, simply watching and observing you whenever you made your presence known/whenever you spoke.

↪ During the first class trial, you absolutely owned it. You constantly kept everyone on track and gave them clues to help them figure out the mystery themselves and diverted them from anything that led them to the incorrect truth. You helped everyone crack the case without flat out giving them the answers and he found that really cool of you.

↪ When Leon's execution came, Chihiro felt a swarm of negative emotions to the point he couldn't contain his tears. It was terrible, all of it was. Even if Leon killed Sayaka and even though Sayaka attempted to muder Leon, he couldn't help but feel bad for the both of them..

↪ That following day or two, he was in a rather gloomy mood. Everyone was. After the events of what happened, he couldn't really stomach much food. It was a small thing and Chihiro thought no one had cared to notice his lack of appetite, but he was surprised that someone did; you did. One morning, he was presented with a large portion of a simple meal by none other than the stone cold mystery themselves.

↪ "Eat it if you'd like. If you don't trust it, that's fine too," Was all you said to him, but it made his heart do a backflip regardless. He didn't understand it, but the scene kept playing in his mind the rest of the morning which kept him red in the face the entire time..

↪ After that, Chihiro started observing you even more and he started picking up on the small things about you. How, although most of the others misinterpret your intentions, you truly don't mean harm to anyone and just want to find the way out like everyone else. You're actually really sweet but your tight-lipped and mysterious nature just throws everyone in the wrong direction, he thinks.

↪ The more he watched you and the more he interacted with you, ( although interactions with you didn't happen often ) the more his heart fluttered until it eventually evolved into something bigger. At first, he thought what he was feeling for you was simply admiration until one of the others pointed it out to him one day. The way he speaks about you with such passion, the way he sometimes stares at you like a puppy wanting attention, the amount of times he's caught staring at you.. To them, it was painfully obvious that he was crushing on you!

↪ Even with the knowledge of his crush on you, Chihiro made no attempt to act on it. For one, you two are in a killing game and you're probably way more worried about figuring out the mastermind and getting out of here than getting a partner and two, he was too embarrassed to. The last thing he wanted was for you to laugh or berate or be disgusted by him for pretending to be a girl because of how weak and sensitive he was.. ( The last thing he wants is to confess under the rouse of a girl anyway. )

↪ This ( along with the embarrassing secret motive ) ultimately boosted his motivation to achieve his goal; to get stronger. Once he's strong enough to protect you and his friends from any danger, then he'll tell you how he feels!

↪ He was determined, and unfortunately, that determination ultimately led to his untimely demise. It was ironic, especially with that conversation you had with him that afternoon prior..

↪ "I've decided! I have no other choice but to get stronger. I'll try my hardest and..! And when I do, I would like to talk to you about something very important, okay?" He had told you, eyes burning with uncharacteristic fire. It was..certainly a look for him. ( One that may or may not have made your heart do a few tricks without your permission.. ) And you remembered briefly mutter something to him about staying safe and not overdoing it..

↪ If only you had offered to join him. Maybe things would've went differently..

↪ Huh, how odd. It's not like you to be sentimental like this. Actually, as of late, a lot of things you've been doing have been out of character for you.. Honestly, what has gotten into you lately?

↪ Well, there's no time to dawdle on it right now. You have to seek justice for Chihiro. With the clues you've gathered, you already have a sneaking suspicion of who the culprit is..

↪ You immediately spiked Kokichi's interest. The fact that you didn't give him any information about yourself intrigued him. It was as if you had something to hide..

↪ When it came out that everyone would be participating in a killing game, Kokichi was surprised by how well you kept it together. Unlike everyone else who were in denial, you wholeheartedly believed the kubs and kept a levelhead about the whole ordeal. It was as if it didn't affect you at all..

↪ "You seem oddly calm about this. Don't tell me you're actually some psycho and was waiting on something like this." He said to you only to get silence in return as you outright ignored him.

↪ For the first day or two he observed you, but he quickly decided to take a more upfront approach and was all in your face. He was always trying to poke and prod and tease information out of you, but you never caved. He couldn't get under your skin at all.

↪ But he did, at least, get your name.

↪ When the first murder finally happened, you again, didn't panic. While everyone else were screaming their heads off, you talked to Monokuma, verifying things about the upcoming class trial before immediately starting your investigation.

↪ When the trial came about, you kept calm. As if you had done this a million times, you helped guide everyone. You gave hints and helped paint a clear picture of what happened. When everyone began to deny the truth, you, along with Kaede, helped everyone come to grips with reality.

↪ And then, when the killer was executed, you didn't freak out. He also noticed you saying something to Shuichi before swiftly leaving to go god knows where.

↪ And just like that his interest in you hit it's peak.

↪ He began speculating. What could you possibly be hiding? Why are you the way you are? How many times has something like this happened to you? Do you hold the key of getting out of here?

↪ Could you be the mastermind behind this? It's definitely a possibility..

↪ After the trial, Kokichi officially set his sights on you. He began to bug you even more.

↪ He would drag you around places and rope you into his shenanigans. To everyone else, it may have just looked like Kokichi was just doing it for the fun of it or to annoy you, but in actuality, he was doing it in an attempt to get a feel for your personality. He wanted to know what made you tick and what didn't. But alas, you were harder to crack than he expected.

↪ So, he began stalking you.

↪ Everytime you distanced yourself from the others and disappeared for long periods of time, he would try to follow after you, however..

↪ "Kokichi. I know you're there."

↪ ..he never got far before he was found out.

↪ Then the second murder rolled around and the cycle repeated. The body discovery announcement played, you gave no reaction to it, disappeared to start your own investigation, and carried the class trial.

↪ After the trial and execution, ( and after you saved his butt from Maki's wrath after he exposed a certain secret of hers ) he approached you with the supposed intention of wanting to be your friend. ( Although he worded it more as him wanting you to be his sidekick ) He didn't give you ang room to deny his friendship and before you knew it, he was shamelessly latched to you like some annoying pest.

↪ Almost everywhere you went, he attempted to tag along. Of course, if you were going on one of your little side investigations, you gave him the slip and he wouldn't be able to find you for a while.

↪ Other than that, you humored him. He talks your ear off and the conversations between you two are more or less one sided but he can tell you're listening to every little word he said and didn't mind his presence. Although he doesn't know much about you, he's gotten to know you enough to know that when you don't want to talk to someone, you'll make it very clear to them that you don't want to talk to them.

↪ And then something most bewildering happened. Shuichi gave you a gift.

↪ "How did you know I liked this?" Kokichi heard you say before you accepted the gift, "Uh..lucky guess? I honestly had no idea. It just seemed like something you'd like." He heard him say..

↪ "I see.. Well, thank you."

↪ Like the stalker he is, he watched the whole interaction and to Kokichi's surprise, he felt..odd watching you two interact. Although it wasn't the most intense feeling, it certainly wasn't a pleasant one..

↪ Anyways, the third murder rolls around and shortly after it happened, he stepped on a faulty floor board and..yeah y'all know what happened to him.

↪ When you and Shuichi found him, he was laid out on the floor and bleeding profusely from the head. Shuichi was startled at first, thinking he was dead, but upon him sitting up, the detective slowly stopped caring.

↪ Chuckling to himself, ( and feeling the very, very strong urge to vomit ) Kokichi stumbled to his feet. However, as soon as he did, you grabbed him by the arm..

↪ "You shouldn't move around so much. You likely have a concussion."

↪ "What..are you talking about? I'm..fine! Just..eheh.. Just peachy.." Another obvious lie. Honestly, what does he expect to gain from acting like this?

↪ After he let that ridiculous statement tumble from his lips, you forced him onto your back with ease. ( As expected, he's very light ) After telling Shuichi to continue his investigation, you left with Kokichi riding on your back.

↪ "Heyyyy, where are we going.. Do you plan to..to take me out while I'm like this..how..cruel, nishi..hi..heh.."

↪ You ended up taking him all the way back to your dorm because you remembered that you had some medical supplies lying around that you found while out on one of your side investigations. They weren't the best, but it was enough to make sure Kokichi wouldn't bleed out and die.

↪ With quick and kinda rough movements, you bandages up his head and the entire time you were supposed to spend investigating ended being spent in your room. After you finished bandaging his head, you dimmed the lights and applied a makeshift cold compress ( which you made by stuffing some ice in a bag and wrapping the bag in a thin towel ) to his head.

↪ Your eyes were completely on him the entire time and something about that made the displeasing feeling he felt before swell into something lighter and fluffier in his chest and around his heart. He didn't know what it was, but he's certain that he loved hated the feeling with a passion and hoped to never feel it again. Oh the lies he tells even himself

↪ The trial rolls around, and although you were kind of in the backseat for some time, you still managed to crack the case wide open. Well, with some help from Shuichi that is.

↪ Speaking of which, after the trial and execution, Kokichi began to notice the most bewildering thing; little Shuichi was getting oddly close to you.

↪ Like, a day or two after the trial, he saw you outside with Shuichi, Maki, and Kaito. You seemed to be working out with them but he took note of how you seemed the most responsive with Shuichi.

↪ An uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his chest, but even so, Kokichi, who had begun to slowly come to grips and realize his attraction towards you, pretended like he was fine. So what if you're hanging out with Shuichi? Lately, the detective has started to peak his interest and he plans to befriend him just like he did with you. Once he achieves that, he'll have you back and he'll have Shuichi to himself too!

↪ But alas, things didn't go as planned. Shuichi, untrusting of him, didn't want to be his friend. How sad..

↪ But he's not one to give up so easily. He'll find a way to rope him into this little game of his..one way or another.

↪ Fourth trial comes and the truth is revealed that Kokichi had a part in Miu's murder. Upon revealing the truth to everyone and completely ruining all the fun of the mystery, you seemed to be the one person to initially believe him. ( Although he noticed you seemed uncharacteristically bothered about the whole ordeal )

↪ Then Shuichi helped you further reveal what happened, forcing everyone to believe what really happened was the truth and that Gonta was the blackened. ( Gosh, it was agitating how in sync you two were )

↪ After the trial ended, things escalated. Kaito and Kokichi got into it and Kaito ended up lunging at Kokichi. However, it seemed the ultimate supreme leader was stronger than he let on ( or maybe something else is at play here.. ) and he ended up throwing his own punch which sent Kaito flying to the ground.

↪ That's when the others finally intervened.

↪ Shuichi, angered by everything that had happened, screamed at Kokichi. He yelled and fussed about how he was horrible and had no friends and how he had no one to turn to because he was horrible and blah blah blah.

↪ Kokichi didn't care much for his speech, ( it was nothing he hasn't been told already ) but his eyes seemed to drift to you. Unlike everyone else, you hadn't jumped to Kaito's defense nor were you screaming at him. In fact, you just stood in the back, watching with that iron expression of yours. How..like you..it was to do that, he thought.

↪ When he left, you followed after him.

↪ "That was quite the show you put on back there. Tell me, Kokichi. What are you planning?" You had asked him.

↪ "Heh, wellll since it's you I feel the sudden urge to spill everything, nishi~! ..Hm, fine then. I'll tell you for a kiss right here on the cheek, nishishishi~!" And then he saw it. For only a split second, he saw the surprise flash across your face. He saw your brows twitch and your eyes widen. He saw your cheeks flush.

↪ He finally saw you truly caught off guard and it was the cutest thing he's ever been able to witness. It's disgusting how much he's grown to like you, he thought. Not really.

↪ You didn't see him for a few days after the trial. You had no idea where he went, but you didn't bother wasting your time searching for him. Not that you could, with Kaito breathing down your neck wanting you to hang out with him, Shuichi, and Maki, you never found the reason or necessary time to go and look for him. ( But for some odd reason, you couldn't stop thinking about him. )

↪ And then he showed his face at last and when he did, he had weapons in tow.

↪ He claimed that he wanted to help end the killing game but of course no one believed him. Maki, who was at her wits end with the male, jumped to attack him and you, of course, jumped to his rescue.

↪ "Why do you always protect him? Are you two working together?" She questioned, her fiery crimson hues staring into you like sharpened blades.

↪ "..." Your silence gave nothing away as you stared back at her with your own icy gaze, gripping her by the arm as you awaited for her to release Kokichi.

↪ She let him go eventually.

↪ Kokichi then went on to explain what the weapons he persuaded Miu to make did ( the "electrohammers" as he put it ) before saying he'll no longer intervene with the others and their plans and leaving.

↪ And without a second thought, you followed after him which automatically labeled you a traitor in certain peoples' eyes. ( Cough cough Maki and Himiko cough cough )

↪ Alas, you quickly lost sight of him despite your tailing. But you couldn't give up now. He knows something and you're determined to find out what that something was.

↪ But all your efforts got you nowhere. You looked everywhere but couldn't find him, however when you finally reconvened with the others they all seemed oddly..depressed about something.

↪ You questioned each of them but only Shuichi would explain what happened while you were gone. Apparently, they used the electrohammers to cross that Death Road and found a large hatch that led outside. They got it opened but what they saw was simply despair-inducing..

↪ Everything was destroyed, there wasn't even air to breath out there. To put it simply, it was the end of the world.

↪ And the supposed mastermind behind the killing game had finally shown themselves and it was none other than the Ultimate Supreme Leader himself; Kokichi Ouma.

↪ But the whole story seemed..odd to you. Something about it simply didn't sit right ( especially with the evidence you had gathered while secretly investigating this place ) and in the end you incurred that at least some part of what went down was a lie. ( And you had a sneaking suspicion of which part it was )

↪ You ended up disappearing after that to do some more investigating. You spent the entire evening, night, and following morning digging up what you could. It was a shame it was cut short in one of the worst ways possible..

↪ "A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time that you can spend however you'd like, the class trial will begin!" You certainly wasn't expecting that. And at a time like this..

↪ You make it to the crime scene soon after that and waste no time investigating. Everyone is certain that Kaito was the one who was murdered, but until you gather the clues and come to a collective verdict at the class trial, nothing is certain. ( Although, there's this sense of dread that's beginning to bubble at the pit of your stomach. You're hoping—praying—that it's not because of what you think it is.. )

↪ And then the class trial comes and for the first time, you were uncertain. You had a possibility or two, but with the clues presented, you weren't sure of anything..

↪ And after a long time of going back forth and around in circles, Kokichi's plan was finally revealed. His true goal was to end the killing game by making an unsolvable case where you aren't able to figure out who was murdered and who was the culprit.

↪ But then new evidence came about. Maki's confession and the video tape along with Shuichi's deductions helped you make a vital connection and that connection helped crack the entire case wide open. ( Because of you, Kokichi's final efforts were in vain.. )

↪ After the trial, no one was happy. I mean, how could they be? The blackened was Kaito. Aside from that, for some reason, you just seemed a little too upset. Something about the entire situation, about Kokichi's entire plan to kill himself for the chance to end this killing game, to stop the suffering, it made your heart sting. It effected you more than you would've liked and Kaito seemed to notice that.

↪ "I know you really liked him, Y/n," He told you, "He really liked you too. He never outright admitted it, but I could tell.. He wouldn't stop talking about ya'! Even..even in his final moments.."

↪ Was that supposed to make you feel better? Because it didn't. All it did was make things worse. You wish he would've just kept that to himself. Kokichi was thinking of you until the very end? What was the point of putting that painful thought into your head? It was unnecessary.

↪ And so, as soon as Kaito's execution was over. You fled the scene, silently but hurriedly. You knew why, but you didn't want to accept it. To accept that you left in such a rush because you couldn't keep your emotions in check..

↪ Ugh, that damn Kokichi! Could he have been anymore selfish? Forcing his way into your life, making you feel such wonderful inconvenient emotions, only to snatch all of it away and leaving you with the miserable feeling of anguish..

↪ He was truly the worst, you thought.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[yandere-daze]

I´m back to my Collar x Malice obsession (currently playing the FD) and so I just had to write something for my favorite boy! And since he already shows some yandere tendencies in the game, I decided to run with it. Hope you enjoy <3

gn reader

1.3k words

tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, manipulation, implied stalking, overprotectiveness, brief mentions of violence

General Yandere! Kei Okazaki headcanons

Okazaki strikes me as the type of person who could take an immediate liking to someone when meeting them for the first time but then needs a lot of time for true love to materialize. Or in this case, obsession.

He´s quite fond of you from the very beginning, he likes seeing you smile and enjoys being around you. But the true obsession only starts once you two get to know each other better.

He has been in a lot of relationships before and while he had liked all of his partners, he never felt like he could show them his flaws, he never felt comfortable being true to himself, always hiding away a part of himself in fear of rejection. It´s like that at first with you as well, he only wants to show you his charming and cool side as he wants to make a good impression on you. How would you ever fall for him if you knew about his past and his mental troubles? About his possessiveness and jealousy?

You inadvertently sealed your own fate when you encouraged Okazaki to be honest with himself and that you would accept him for all his flaws. That you wouldn´t turn away from him, no matter what. That you won´t judge him.

How can you say these things and not expect him to become absolutely obsessed with you?

For the first time, he feels this deep connection to someone else, he feels like he can be himself around you, even if it´s scary and difficult. So you wouldn´t mind if he let his obsession with you show, right? If he got clingy and possessive with you. You said you accepted all of him, right?

Okazaki for sure is a protective yandere. He works as a bodyguard so he´s an expert at making sure certain important people are safe. And you most definitely count as a very important person to him!

Whether you´re actually dating or just acquaintances, Okazaki will insist on accompanying you wherever you go so he can "keep you safe". And he´s quite persistent when it comes to this as well, not taking no for an answer and just tagging along anyway with a smile on his face.

It doesn´t even matter if you were planning on meeting up with him or not, he´s somehow always there whenever you go out to wander the streets. How does he always seem to know when you´re about to head out?

In truth, Okazaki keeps tabs on you even when you believe you are alone. Due to all his training, he´s more than capable of staying hidden in the shadows while still keeping a watchful eye on you. Even if you say you need some alone time, he just can´t risk anything happening to you. He´s still shaken up from that incident all these years ago where his inaction caused his coworker to die on the job. He can´t let something like that happen to you, his dearly beloved.

And next to making sure you´re safe from harm he also has to make sure you´re "safe". What does he mean by that? He has to make sure that no other men try to approach you to ask you out. He knows they´re no good for you, so just leave it all to him.

Okazaki has an uncanny ability to swoop in out of the blue whenever a man tries to talk to you, inserting himself in the conversation and making the other person uncomfortable with his unnerving smile and underlying threats. He can be quite scary when he wants to and thus it´s easy for him to scare people off. He also isn´t against using violence to get them to back off, whether it´s punching them or twisting their limbs until they crack, nothing is off-limits. Under no circumstances will he allow anyone else to sweep you off your feet, you´re meant to be with him after all.

Afterwards, he will explain that the person that tried to talk to you was dangerous. There had been warnings going around at work and so he tried defusing the situation immediately. You see what happens when you´re out there without him? Really, you were in luck that he just happened to be around! Maybe ask him to tag along next time again, okay?

Of course, that´s all lies. No such warnings about a suspicious person existed, he just needed a convenient excuse for chasing them away. He can´t let those people possibly get in between the both of you.

Okazaki is also just really really jealous in general. He doesn´t like it when you spend time with others and if you´re dating, then he would directly tell you this, though he tries to word it in a way that sounds more reasonable than "I want you to cut ties with all your friends". He hates seeing you smile and laugh around people who aren´t him, it makes him fear that you might be getting sick of him.

And he can´t have that. He vows to never let go of you. Strangely enough, he will actually tell you this many times (like he does in the game) but you just take it as a bit of cute possessiveness, nothing too concerning. You just don´t know how obsessed he is with you.

He canonically has thought about locking the player up so they´re for his eyes only so a kidnapping would not be completely out of the question I believe, though I do still see it as a last resort, something he would only do if he felt an immediate threat to your relationship or if he was close to snapping. For now, he would much rather use words to try and convince you to spend more and more time together.

It´s normal for a boyfriend to want to spend all of his time with his darling, right? He just loves you so much! He wants to spend every second of every day with you, aren´t you being a bit cruel by depriving him of that? Why do you insist on being with people that aren´t him? Isn´t he enough? Don´t you love him?

He can get quite manipulative if he feels like it will bring results. But also, he just genuinely feels like that. He just can´t fathom it, how can you bear to stay away from him when he feels like he´s being ripped apart every time he has to part from you?

So to no one´s surprise, Okazaki is very clingy, even before a potential relationship. He loves being close to you, wrapping his arms around you or resting his head against you. He also loves holding your hand in public, both as a way to show affection but also to show anyone else that you´re unavailable. He´s also shameless enough to kiss you in public while people are most definitely watching.

Resting his head in your lap while he falls asleep is also another favorite of his. He´s often exhausted from his job as a bodyguard and tends to not get a lot of sleep, so he treasures being so close to you while he gets to rest up. Please run your fingers through his hair too, he will sigh in bliss if you do!

Also very affectionate in the way he talks to you. Once he realizes his feelings for you, he won´t really try to hide that he likes you, perhaps only the extent to which he does. He loves calling you cute pet names, especially if they make you flustered. He loves teasing you, it makes him proud to know that he can have that sort of effect on you.

"You´re so cute when you get flustered. Tell me I´m the only man that gets to see you like this~"

He will truly never let go of you for as long as he lives.

[boy-comics]

please write the fluffiest scenarios you can about first kisses with xdh :( i just think it would be so cute and sweet. thank you!

XDINARY HEROES AND FIRST KISSES

── .✦ tags; swearing, some impromptu kisses (all reciprocated)

── .✦ a/n; anon you don't know how much first kisses have me shaking the bars of my cage. i tried to make these very fluffy but some feelings fell in by accident for some. oops. i hope you like them anyway :')

── .✦ gunil;

gunil is a gentleman when it comes to milestones in your relationship. from the first confession, to holding hands, to meeting your family, he has always made sure you were comfortable, meeting your eyes with a questioning raise of his eyebrows before eagerly taking the plunge and exposing how much he had hoped you would say yes.

it's one of the reasons you adore him. however, in the back of your mind, you think you wouldn't mind if things like that just—happened.

that theory is put to the test soon enough.

after the band's latest concert, you wait for him at the agreed location in the back. the aftershocks of their performance still buzz through you; hands down, it had been their best one yet, and you know that gunil is absolutely thrilled.

when he rounds the corner, you prepare to congratulate him, you worked so hard, i'm so proud of you. you don't get to.

because as soon as he rounds the corner and spots you, his pace speeds up, and before you can get a single word out he's engulfing you in a sweaty hug, then cupping your face between his hands and kissing you hard.

pleasant surprise and something warm like melted butter ripples down your spine to the tips of your toes as he tilts his head. oh.

it's only a matter of time before he jerks back in sudden realization. out of breath and eyes comically wide, your usual dorky gunil is back, apologizing profusely for kissing you without warning. he stares at your lips the entire time.

you pull him back in for more.

(you blame it on the post-concert adrenaline. or thank it, really.)

── .✦ jungsu;

with jungsu, physical affection is never in short supply. step into the same room as him when it's just the two of you and he's wandering over in seconds, lacing your fingers together, hugging you from behind, resting his forehead on your shoulder. touch is a natural thing for you and him, more need than want, and as instinctual as breathing.

so perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise when your first kiss slips by without fanfare.

it's an early morning for both of you, so you decide to pick up some coffee and head over to wish him luck before clocking in yourself. he still looks a bit groggy when you spot him; meeting you at the door, he wraps you in a hug and sways you back and forth a bit before taking his coffee with a sweet and raspy thank you, honey.

he tries a bit of yours and you try a bit of his, and he laughs when you admit that you had already taken a small sip on the way. then you check the time and realize that you really should get going, pecking him on the lips before standing up and hurrying out to clock in.

you don't register the significance of what you've done until you're sitting at your desk and drafting an email.

he's already cracking up over the phone when you call him after work, nearly hysterical, swearing up and down that you weren't thinking at all and that you were far more romantic than that. he quickly soothes you and insists that it's alright, that it was very cute, and shyly confesses that he hopes you'll be able to do that every morning one day.

i want to kiss your face all over now, though ... ah, is that weird of me to say?

── .✦ gaon;

you're not together. you're not even together, but he looks so beautifully radiant that you stare until you ache inside.

in his room, immersed in an impromptu concert of your own making, jiseok jumps around like a fool with his guitar. early 2000s american rock rumbles from the small speaker on his desk. you are a fool as well, joining in stilted harmony with him with your sunglasses on and your phone abandoned on the corner of his unmade bed. the sunglasses are a pretense. you're afraid that if you take them off, he will notice the way you look at him.

the song ends and he glances up at you when he makes a dramatic pose, panting for breath. his lips break into a wide grin when you collapse in shrieks of laughter.

you love his smile.

and when he puts his guitar down and splays out next to you on the cluttered floor, you think for the sixth or seventh time that you love him, and you are terrified of telling him and even more so of hiding it forever.

and—

he is looking at you too.

the laughter fades; the breaths don't. you don't know how it happens. but something pulls the two of you to each other, and then he is taking off your sunglasses and pressing his pretty mouth to yours, hand cradling the back of your neck with so much care your eyes sting.

sorry, he mutters against your mouth, flushed and content. you were smiling and i couldn't stop thinking about it.

you cry. he holds you for the rest of the afternoon.

── .✦ o.de;

he and your older brother have been best friends since they were kids. however, it has been a little while since you've last seen him in person, so you are given the surprise of your life when you learn he's tagging along on a trip to your family's lakeside cabin, eyes sweet and laughter bright and physique absolutely, positively devastating.

you have liked him for forever, you think. but you are older now, and more realistic about how he must view you, so you keep your interactions polite and everything light.

and everything is fine until you find seungmin outside, unintentionally, after everyone else has gone to bed. he is sitting alone on the edge of the dock with his feet in the water, the exact picture of what you'd planned to do when you snuck out, so when he twists around and meets your eyes, you apologize and turn to leave.

he asks you to join him.

as you sit next to him on that dock, sandals at your side and feet splashing around idly, the wall you had tried to build crumbles into dust. he is still as kind as you remember. and when he says that he had missed seeing you, and asks why it seems like you've been avoiding him, you stupidly confess that you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of the guy you had a crush on in high school.

he is silent for a bit. you are about to jump into the lake and swim to china when he finally replies, tone unreadable, ah, so you don't have a crush on me anymore, then?

the sounds that tumble out of your mouth seem to provide all the information he needs. you think that he will laugh you all the way back to the cabin, but he just smiles, touching your hand.

i'm just asking because i've liked you for a while too.

then he's requesting to kiss you, and somehow, you manage to say yes. his fingers trace your jaw as he tilts his head and greets your lips with his own—and you wonder, hazily, why you had bothered worrying at all.

── .✦ junhan;

it's an accident.

the relationship is fairly new, and the two of you are still getting used to the concept of being with each other in this way, going on dates and trying out the whole romantic thing after years of orbiting one another. it's honeyed and awkward and cherished, this growing stage of love, and you keep every careful step near and dear to your heart.

the day is cool and slightly cloudy. you and hyeongjun are enjoying it inside, sitting together on the couch and quietly enjoying hot drinks after the chilly walk you had embarked on earlier. you catch his eye as he takes a sip of his own drink, and his lips form a shy smile against the edge of the cup before he faces forward again.

you really just want to kiss his cheek. it's a small sign of affection that both of you have expressed enjoying, and you're both in a particularly cozy mood, and he's right here, pressed gently against your side and looking so pleased your poor heart can't stand it.

you shift in place and lean in. and everything would've gone to plan, had he not felt your sudden movement and turned his head—

his lips brush yours, soft and warm. his breath is warm, too, from the tea. your mind blanks.

then the two of you are breaking apart and you're apologizing and he's apologizing, faces as hot as the sun, and you are so embarrassed you curl up on the couch and will yourself to disappear. your first kiss, a complete accident. oh, god.

your mug is carefully removed from your hands. when you finally muster the courage to look at him again, he smiles a bit, cheeks and ears still flushed pink.

it's okay, really. next time, maybe we'll be more prepared?

── .✦ jooyeon;

for all his flirting and teasing and general extrovertedness, you've found that jooyeon is unexpectedly shy when it comes to your first kiss.

he asks for it jokingly at the end of a date, while you're standing on the threshold of your front door. it's the first time he's done so—not that there haven't been moments in the past where you're sure he had planned to kiss you, only to grow skittish at the last minute and smooch your cheek instead. perhaps you would’ve let that happen again if it weren't for the fact that he's been stealing glances the entire night, to the point where you're not sure he remembers the plot of the movie you've just returned from.

so with a cheeky grin, you step forward, put your arms around his neck, and tilt your head. the speed at which his expression changes when you do this is comical—his eyes widen like saucers, his eyebrows shoot up, and the strangest, cutest little giggle escapes his throat.

you can't help but laugh. his face turns a bit red, and then you're both giggling like middle schoolers as his hands move to your waist.

wait, seriously? i can?

we like each other, don't we? so kiss me. on the lips.

holy shit. uh, okay.

he clears his throat, and then he leans in closer, and you can feel his breath shaking against your lips. there's a moment where you think he's suppressing another nervous giggle before he presses his smiling mouth to yours in what is possibly the sweetest kiss you've ever gotten.

you kiss back. it's brief. too brief. he pulls away for a split second to gauge your reaction, and then you're both giggling again, and he's pressing his face into your neck, shoulders shaking.

you ask him if he's crying and he vehemently denies it before going quiet. his arms wrap around you, and you feel the vibration of his next question reach down to your heart.

so … second goodnight kiss?

[tunastime]

A Gear of the Heart, Turning

so I'm back on an ethubs kick after so very long of not writing them (spacer really changes a man), and decided to take a quick peek back into the DBHC au by @shepscapades beloved. thanks for making me insane! ahhaha <33 etho... anyways enjoy them! <3

(2847 words) (check out DBHC here!)

When Etho comes back from exploring, Bdubs is lying in the grass.

It’s a crisp, cold, clear day. The sun is bright blue, bright enough to stare into and imagine what the burning feeling could be, the cold brightness, the way the sun carries no warmth but a fraction of what it could in the summer. Etho knows exactly what time of year it is, he’s never stopped keeping track, he’s never paused counting the days in his own personal, mental calendar. Fall. Getting colder every day. Nights growing in length, days getting shorter and shorter. In the corner of his eye, if he were to focus on it, he could see the date. For now, though, the sides of his vision held other data—temperature, his own lives, a list of players, his personal chances of success. He’s not here to cause problems, that’s not his job. He’s got another objective, something self-made. Survive. He’s supposed to be surviving. He is surviving, in fact.

If Etho could breathe, he would’ve taken in a lungful of that sharp, cold air, would know the way it hit the back of his throat. Instead, he feels the sun, and the air, and knows them in absolutes, and picks his way around the base and over to Bdubs in the grass. He’s not asleep yet—his heart beats a steady drum, calm and even. Etho notes the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way he sees his eyebrows twitch when Etho stands in the patch of sun he rests in. He pillows his head on his coat, his arms spread out. His eyes don’t open, but his hand reaches out, smacking the side of Etho’s ankle.

“Etho,” Bdubs says tiredly. 

“How did you know it was me?” Etho asks, a note of curiosity entering his tone. He tilts his head, a bit unnecessarily. He knows Bdubs can’t see. It just feels right. He’s been doing a lot of that, lately—doing things because they feel right, rather than because he has to. That’s human, isn’t it?

“Who else is gonna come stormin’ into our base and stand in front of me?” Bdubs says. Finally, he cracks open an eye, squinting up at Etho, brows furrowed. His hand messes with the lace of Etho’s boot, twisting it in his fingers. Etho notes it down—he doesn’t want to trip.

“I was quiet as a mouse, Bdubs!” Etho says. He smiles—just enough for it to be seen in his eyes. Bdubs can’t see behind the black mask on his face. 

Bdubs snorts. After a moment, he shuts his eyes again. His hand falls still, over his chest. He sighs out a profound thing, face softening as he relaxes again.

“Sure you were, Etho,” he says. Etho hums a little. He likes the sound of Bdubs’ tone when he says that—something about it feels so much softer than normal. Maybe unintentionally tired. Maybe he was asleep before Etho got here. “Get outta my sun, will you?”

Step out of the sun, Etho thinks. It lingers for a moment. Will you? The added request. He considers it for a moment longer before he does. He rounds around Bdubs’ head, drops down to occupy the space right at his right shoulder. The sun shines on both of them.

Etho takes a moment to shrug off the warm coat around him. It ends up on the grass beside him and so does his mask and he leans back on his hands. He soaks in the sun, wondering what that warmth could feel like if it were just a bit stronger, if the bite of cold around them weren’t so prevalent. He wonders how much Bdubs feels of both, if it’s more than him, if it’s less. Bdubs heart stays steady, his breathing even. He still isn’t sleeping.

“That better?” Etho asks, lowering his voice. Bdubs makes a noise, half-startled. Etho looks down at him, watching the way his face changes ever so as he recognizes Etho’s question. He gets the urge, just for a moment, to reach out, to run his hand through Bdubs’ hair, despite how greasy it must be at this point. He wonders if it would tangle. He wonders if it feels any certain way. 

“That’s much better,” Bdubs sighs. “Thank you, Etho.”

“Mhm.”

There’s a beat of quiet where they sit together. Etho’s hand sits behind Bdubs’ head. He considers that urge with full merit, listening to Bdubs sigh again, comfortable and content even in the midst of a death game. To be fair, Etho knows he isn’t. This is just a facade for a brief moment—or perhaps it’s Etho himself making him this calm. He can’t tell. Part of him hopes it’s the latter, rather than the former.

Bdubs tilts his head back, craning his neck to get a look at Etho behind him. He smiles a bit, furrowing his eyebrows questioningly. Etho tilts his head again, that questioning gesture, finally letting his hand rest at the crown of Bdubs’ head. Bdubs smile only grows, just a bit, just the smallest fraction. Etho doesn’t move his hand—he just rests it there. Just for a moment. 

“What’re you doin’?” Bdubs asks.

“Sitting here,” Etho says plainly. “Is that a problem?”

“You’re lookin’ pretty comfortable.”

“I am,” Etho says. He hums a little, to add to the effect. “You look comfortable yourself.”

“Oh,” Bdubs says, shutting his eyes. “Very much so.”

Etho hums again. He lets his thumb drag over the top of Bdubs’ head, muzzing up his hair, allowing just a moment of self indulgence. Bdubs doesn’t stop him. It’s nice. 

Bdubs watches him with a soft, partially confused, partially content look. After a moment, he shuts his eyes, leans his head back down so that Etho’s hand cups the top of his head. He sighs out and clambors up. Etho’s hand falls away after that, and something resembling a pang of longing makes his thirium pump stutter. 

Bdubs turns toward him, shifting forward until their knees meet. He blocks part of the sun over Etho, to which Etho nearly makes a comment about it, but it gets lost somewhere as Bdubs squints at him. Late afternoon, Etho thinks. The sun wasn’t high enough in the sky to last much longer. He’ll have to haul himself up and start a fire, soon enough, but Bdubs pins him with that look and Etho can’t move. Bdubs hasn’t even given him a request. It feels self-inflicted. 

“You’re staring,” Etho says, a bit obviously.

“You were looking at me funny,” Bdubs says. His mouth curves into a frown. Etho hopes it doesn’t look like he’s watching. Instead, Etho laughs.

“I wasn’t,” he says. Bdubs snorts, shaking his head. He reaches out, patting Etho’s unmarred cheek. The impression his hand leaves is warm—warm enough to almost be hot. Etho’s brain pings the sensation, the impression, the linger of touch, records, stores, repeats. If he had something to swallow he’s sure he would've done it, like he’s seen Bdubs do. 

Instead, he raises his eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything, and Bdubs laughs, and Etho doesn’t think another sound could be that good. Bdubs pulls himself up after that, pushing himself forward on his hands and knees, wincing at he twists to stretch, and sighs.

“Tango’ll be back soon to check up on us,” he says. “You wanna get started on a fire?”

Etho looks up at him, nodding slowly. He’s still lingering on that remnant of a touch, the weight of it all. He agrees to what Bdubs says regardless, and as Bdubs nods his thanks and walks away, still complaining about the ache in his back, Etho scoops himself off the ground. Above him, the sun has started to sink in the sky, and the shadows grow.

Etho makes a fire.

Tango comes and goes. He’s not much for sleep, which is typical for him as of late. He laughs as he talks to the two of them, as they bounce around stories about the day passed. Nothing happened—not really, nothing of note. It was slow, full of collection, of waiting, of planning. Tango talks of resource gathering as Bdubs drinks soup from a wooden bowl. It’s a nice slice of quiet, and Etho watches the expression on Tango’s face with a careful contemplation. His red eyes flick to Etho when he talks about their team, and Etho feels that bit of warmth, sharing that eye. Everywhere he goes, he carries a bit of Tango with him. Their odds look better with him here, but he can’t deny the sliver of human error that chips away at that success rate. He doesn’t know how much longer Tango’ll stick around. Surely, he can see it too.

The fire is still going when Tango picks himself up and dusts his pants off and says he’ll be back later. Etho believes him, reaches out to pat his shoulder as he stands with him. Tango jostles, smiles like he means that, too. Etho watches him go before he drops down beside Bdubs again. Bdubs stares into the flames, eyes far away, expression soft. Etho moves to sit next to him, their shoulders almost brushing. It’s Bdubs that closes the gap, pressing to his side, cheek against his shoulder. Etho stays still, stiffening, pretending not to care when Bdubs takes his hand. He can feel the uptick of stress as he sits still, feeling his pump thump in his chest.

Bdubs runs his thumb over the back of his hand, over the valleys of his knuckles. He traces them out with the pad of his finger, and the spark of sensation travels up Etho’s arm, like it could tickle the back of his neck, raise the hair there. It registers, again and again, dull and present but not unpleasant. He leans back into Bdubs. Bdubs laughs a little, just a huff of air.

“You better not be sleepin’ on me, Etho,” Bdubs says, the undertone of sleep coming to his voice. Etho makes a noise of disagreement.

“Never, Bdubs!”

“Mm,” Bdubs sighs. “Good.”

Bdubs lets go after a moment, peeling away from him for just a beat, before they’re sitting side by side again, Bdubs still pressed as close as he can be to his shoulder. Etho notes the way Bdubs shivers, imperceptible. Etho’s the warmest thing besides the fire, here, all moving mechanical parts and expelling heat to keep cool. Not as much as Tango might, but enough to matter. Enough to be a little bit warmer than Bdubs, right now.

Bdubs sighs again, shutting his eyes. Facing Etho, now, Etho can watch his expression change as he starts to warm up, softening, sinking. Bdubs doesn’t open his eyes for a long moment, but his hand comes up, his right hand, left hand replacing the one holding Etho’s wrist hostage. He reaches up to cup Etho’s face in his palm. His warm hand slides up to cradle the scarred side of Etho’s face, and Etho can’t help the immediate reaction of simulated skin fading to white, sliding away where Bdubs’ warm, calloused hand makes contact. Bdubs runs his thumb over a particular crack near his jaw, just a simple, slow motion. Etho wishes he could sigh. It would be the proper response. More than just leaning into the touch and shutting his eyes, more than not knowing why it was nice, and just knowing that it was. It sends sensation after sensation after sensation, the tingling feeling running over his skin and up his cheek and neck. Does Bdubs know? Can he see what it’s doing? Surely he can’t hear the stutter, the way his pump works faster, any of that. If he were to open his eyes, would Bdubs be looking at him? What would that expression look like?

He opens his eyes anyway. He lets them slide open, ignoring the very human response to shut them again, to soak in the touch, the feeling of being held. The feeling he was realizing he would like if he could tie the two together. Bdubs is looking at him, but his expression is soft, almost concerned. Hesitant, maybe. He pauses the drag of his thumb over Etho’s cheek as Etho meets his eye, even as Etho’s expression is low-lidded and unfocused.

“‘S that nice?” Bdubs asks softly, voice going hoarse as it hits the low register. 

Etho blinks, slow. The edges of his vision fuzz out, like his optical unit is failing. He opens his mouth, realizing he’s failed to preemptively form a sentence. He makes a sound instead, then tries again, stuttering.

“I don’t know.”

Bdubs frowns a little. Etho leans hard into his palm. Not like that. He doesn’t mean it like that.

“It’s nice, but I don’t know what nice means,” Etho manages. He’s not making any sense. “You don’t have to stop.”

Bdubs’ frown fades, turning soft, warm, into a smile. He laughs a little, a sound Etho registers as a laugh. Good enough to be a laugh. 

“I hear you, sweetheart,” Bdubs says gently.

Etho smiles, laughs a little. As much as he’s learned to mimic, so far, something that’s started to morph into his own little sound. 

“You getting soft on me, Bdubs?” he asks. He can’t help it—the amused tease comes too natural to kick. He feels Bdubs pinch his cheek and recoils, face scrunching.

“I am not,” Bdubs barks. His voice is flooded with amusement though, and Etho laughs with him. He can’t help it. Bdubs laughs, and he does too, and whatever thing he’s experiencing feels incredibly fond and sweet and he hopes he’ll soon be able to actually pin it to something. What was all that? Who was that, squeezing itself into Bdubs’ body, to touch Etho’s face in a way that he’d never really done before? To admire? Was he admiring? Looking at him? Memorizing like Etho was? Etho watches Bdubs turn away, searching for something to snuff the fire. He pretends not to notice the flush on Bdubs’ cheeks.

Bdubs is such an odd person. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get a proper grasp of human emotion. Maybe that’s the whole point.

Bdubs snuffs the fire. When he does, he turns to Etho. The mask finds Etho’s face again, and Etho registers the falter in Bdubs’ face when he looks at him.

“Gotta protect that face of yours, don’t’cha?” Bdubs says, swallowing down something. Maybe there’s a hint of emotion Etho is missing. He can’t really tell. His vision sharpens back into clarity as Etho rises to a stand. The sky is just starting to get dark, the air cold, and Bdubs looks over to the wooden structure they’re calling home—more than just the fort. A warmer space than just the fort.

“You know it,” Etho says playfully. That alone cracks the facade of Bdubs’ discomfort. He smiles, shaking his head, rolling his eyes in the good-natured way that Etho always recognized as good-natured and not malicious. 

“You comin’ to bed?” Bdubs asks. He jerks his head over to the wooden structure, body halfway turned to it. He doesn’t say anything else, lingering on Etho’s unsaid answer. Etho shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets as his shoulders rise. 

“Maybe. Probably not tonight.”

“Mm,” Bdubs says. “Right. Forget you don’t need to sleep half the time.” Then he laughs, and at the last second, adds:

“You weirdo.”

Etho barks out a laugh—something wholly his own, surprised, startled by Bdubs’ comment. He watches Bdubs turn away from him, still chuckling, still smiling to himself. After a beat, he calls back to him, and Bdubs turns. Etho shrugs off his coat, holding it out to him with one hand, the other still in the pocket of his pants. Bdubs tilts his head, frowning a little.

“You’re not gonna get cold?” he asks. Etho shakes his head.

“I’ll be alright,” he says, smiling. It feels nice to smile. It feels nice that it meets his eyes.

“Okay, Etho,” Bdubs says, taking the coat. He pauses for a moment, draping it over his arm. It feels good. Maybe that’s what Bdubs means by things feeling nice. Feeling. Maybe. “Have a good night, alright?”

“I’ll try, Bdubs,” Etho says, letting his tone be as affectionate as is appropriate. Bdubs nods his head. That smile doesn’t leave his face for as long as Etho can see him.

Bdubs wanders off to their room, quiet. Etho finds that place in the grass again. He’ll check in on him in a bit, spend the rest of the night planning, working, and spend some time resting when he knows he’s able to tomorrow. For now, though, Etho drops himself into the soft grass still present around the base, in the snow, feeling it cold but not yet damp, waning from the evening light. Feeling. Feeling. Feeling. Maybe he can get used to feeling. Maybe he’ll understand feeling on his own. He looks up, into the sky, and tries to see if there are any stars he recognizes.

They wink their way in from the gold-blue sky, and Etho watches. 

[ghostboneswrites2]

Hii!!! This account has been my go-to for daryl fics since ive been into him. And i really love the way you write!! But since im a sucker for angst and anything cry-worthy, ive been wanting a fic where its in pre-negan and to negan's first appearance timeline— after rick decides to bring maggie to the hilltop to figure out what's wrong with her, the reader is to stay with gabriel to watch out for alexandria, but considering how her anxiety for daryl and the other's safety is eating her she went out to look for them, using the tracking skills daryl had taught her. The time she found the group was at the lineup, Abraham's head already bashed to a unidentifiable pulp. Due to the scene she couldnt help but act in fury and tried attacking negan but his men was able to catch up and before she could even lay a finger on negan, she was kneeling aswell. this triggers Daryl, not being able to see reader in such danger as he vowed to protect her at all cost and punched negan which causes him to stumble. And instead of glenn dying at Daryl's outburst, its the reader who gets a taste of lucille.

And i leave the rest to you! :DD

Well first of all anon I am HONORED to be your go to 🥹 please accept this flower as a token of my appreciation 🌸

Anyways, I’m an absolute sucker for angst and you have INSPIRED ME. I hope you’re ready for the b i g sad.

*ahem* *cracks knuckles*

The Man Who…

Masterlist || Taglist

(Fem!Reader) (Reader Description: has hair)

Warnings: blood, gore, profanity

With your teeth chewing tirelessly at your nail beds, the flesh had become raw. A faint hue of blood settled in between the cracks on your lips.

A deep pit had formed in your gut. It was vacuous, consuming. Your nerves were eating you alive. Nobody had come back yet. You knew it wouldn’t be a quick trip, but still. And nobody had radioed back in over an hour.

You sucked in a sharp breath, partially in hopes that the sensation of air filling your lungs would calm the rapid pace of your heart.

“Is something the matter?” Gabriel asked you, having picked up on your restlessness.

“We haven’t heard from them.” You said simply, foot tapping against the ground. Gabriel pressed his lips together and nodded.

“The Lord is with them. They’ll be okay.” He assured you. With a scoff, your rolled your eyes. Who was he to preach to you in times of need? What did he care? He left his entire congregation to be eaten alive.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You announced abruptly, pushing your chair back and exiting the room with haste. You stomped down the hall into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

You stared at yourself for a while, begging your reflection for some guidance. Daryl told you to stay put. You made a deal with him a long time ago, never to break away from the plan unless you had no choice. However, would he sit idly by if he didn’t know you were safe? Surely not. You may have made a deal with him, but the two of you had also taken an oath to each other.

It was the silent, unspoken kind of promise. Neither of you needed to say it out loud, you just knew. You’d always protect each other, you’d always find each other, and you’d never leave the other behind. So why were you still standing there?

They would have contacted you by now if they were okay. That was the plan, and you never strayed away from the plan.

Without a second thought, you marched out of the bathroom and made hast to the armory, mapping out a plan in your mind as you did so.

……

The engine sputtered as you pulled the key from the ignition. You’d been driving for roughly an hour, following the route the others would have taken. You only pulled over when you saw the RV parked on the side of the road.

As you examined the scene around the vacant house-on-wheels, you were able to put Daryl’s teachings to use in identifying the tracks leading into the trees. The woods were eerily quiet as you followed the trail of disturbed undergrowth. Dusk was settling in, and the only sound to be identified were the rhythmic chirps of frogs and crickets.

Nightfall crept up on you quickly. Your breath had become visible in the moonlight, chills crawling all over you. Regardless, you pressed on. The night could throw anything your way, but you wouldn’t turn back. The idea that something was terribly wrong hadn’t eased. If anything, the feeling grew more dire, as if you were running out of time.

You had been consumed entirely by your thoughts at this point, worst case scenarios floating around in a sea of worry inside your mind. You were only brought back to the present when you caught a glimpse of shining lights just up ahead. Hurriedly, you crouched down into some shrubbery. The bright lights casted shadows through the leaves that danced over your face as you peered through the bushes to see what was going on.

It was hard to make out, but you could see a wall of people surrounding another RV. There was a voice, too, hidden behind the barricade of bodies. It was giving some kind of speech that you couldn’t quite pick up on. The people surrounding the scene were predatory in their demeanor, like a pack of hungry hyenas cornering their kill.

You watched for some time before you caught onto a second voice — one with more grit to it — and you recognized it immediately.

Rick was on the other side of these people, which meant the rest of your family was too. It meant Daryl would be there too.

As carefully as you could, you crawled closer, sticking low into to the shadows. You could almost make out what was being said when a strong pair of arms yolked you up by the waist. A gust of breath escaped you as your back impacted a solid chest. You flailed your arms and legs, hissing profanities in between your hunts and growls. Whoever it was struggled to contain you, but they were still just strong enough to hold you.

The people who previously had their backs to you parted, allowing entrance into their circle. The man who had your restrained dragged you into the middle. When you finally grew tired of struggling and had a chance to look around, you took it all in.

Your friends were all kneeling on the ground, shock and grief written all over their faces. People you’d never seen before surrounded you.

Your captor threw you down in to the dirt. You caught yourself with your hands. A pair of boots stepped in front of you. Your eyes followed them up to a face.

He was tall and menacing. A wide grin spear over his lips as he chuckled, swinging a bat over his shoulder.

“She was watching from the bushes, sir.” The man who found you reported.

“Huh.” He hummed, spinning on his heel to face Rick. “One of yours, I take it?”

Rick hesitated to nod. The man thought for a moment, as you continued to study the scene around you. When your eyes fell on Abraham — or, what used to be Abraham — a wave a nausea washed over you. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress a gag.

“Oh, shit.” The man chuckled. “Guess you missed that part. See, that’s payback for fucking with me.”

“You cocksucker.” You growled, scowling as you lunched up at the man. Arms wrapped around you again, shoving you back down into the dirt. He dragged you over to Rick and the others, kicking you into place.

That was all Daryl could bare. His chest tightened, a sharp feeling darting from his core down into he tips of his fingers. His face went numb with nerves. He had no time to think. Before you could even push yourself off the ground, Daryl sprung forward and landed a solid punch across Negan’s face.

Two men quickly dragged Daryl back into place, one of them holding a familiar crossbow to his head. “Let me do it, boss.” The man begged.

Negan recollected himself quickly, laughing at the audacity required to attack him under such circumstances. Had he not made himself clear?

“Nah. That’s not gonna work.” Negan shook his head. “I told you. No exceptions.”

In the blink of an eye his bat was raised. Time slowed down, nearly halted for those around you. You looked up, tears flowing softly down your cheeks. For a moment, you felt peace. The next moment, fear. Finally, pain. A searing, crushing, all-consuming kind of pain. A loud crunch echoed through the trees. Your ears rang loudly, vision blurry and red. You blinked rapidly, throwing to clear whatever was in your eyes.

Gasps and sobs followed. Your friends and family around you watched in horror as you struggled to sit back up. It didn’t seem like you really registered what happened. You were too disoriented from the first blow to feel the second one.

You gurgled as tried to speak, blood spurting from your lips. Daryl’s cries rattled his body, barely able to make a sound as his breath seemed to be knocked out every time the bat fell down on your skull.

The only thing you could see was a blur of lights and shadows, tainted red with your own blood. For everyone else, the view was much more gruesome. Bits of bone and brain were hanging from your frizz of hair, some of which had been snagged on Lucille’s barbed wire dressing and ripped out. Only two blows from the bat and your were fully incapacitated, reduced to a bloody blubbering lump on the ground with a dent in your skull.

Weak with horror, Daryl lost the strength to sit straight. He fell tot he ground, attempting to drag himself toward you. A heavy boot pressed into his back, holding him firmly down.

Even Negan seemed to falter at the sight of his own destruction. Killing women was a new low for him, even with his track record. Especially in such a barbaric fashion. A sniffed and frowned, gripping Lucille tightly. It was too late for second thoughts. Daryl had to be taught a lesson. He had to understand how things would be from now on. There would be no more bravery or heroism. There would only be Negan.

He raised the bat once more, glancing over to Daryl as he groveled and sobbed below Dwight’s boot. The pain in Daryl’s eyes struck a chord in Negan. It was an unmistakable kind of reaction. The kind you could only bring out of a man when you were taking away the person he loved. Negan knew that feeling all too well. His eyes fell back down to you, twitching and squeaking with pain and confusion. He decided the best thing he could do for you was to swing hard and end your misery.

The final blow was the loudest, the messiest, the one nobody could bare to watch. Blood and brain matter splattered across those close to you. Daryl, Rosita, Negan, Dwight. Everyone was silent, save for a few sobs and the only pairs of eyes that never left you were those of Daryl and Negan. The man who loved you, and the man that killed you.

……

On days like this, Daryl found his peace in the woods. His fondest memories were there.

It was the only place he could still be close to you. Near the small streams, he’d hear echoes of your laughter from years passed. He’d see the glow in your hair as the rays of sunlight filtered through the treetops, and he’d smell your sun baked scalp in the wind, just like when he’d hug you tight and press his nose into your hair.

You were everywhere around him, even if you were long gone. He’d visit this spot often. Some found this place to be haunted. Too many bad memories plagued the grounds. But, to Daryl, it was sacred. It was the last place he saw you, living and breathing.

Your body was gone from there, but your presence lingered. Your blood had soaked into the dirt long ago, mingling with the rain as it watered the earth to sprout new life. When he cremated you, he spread the ashes here. You’d be part of the earth now and forever, and he’d always have this place to visit when he missed you.

Hell, he always missed you. He never stopped thinking about you. The war was over years ago, and new threats had risen and fell. Still, you were all around him. He vowed to protect you always. He may have failed at that, but he’d never allow himself to stop honoring you. He was the man who loved you, and he’d be the man who remembered you even when no one else did.

He took a deep breath and looked down at the bouquet of flowers he’d picked at the Kingdom. A long time ago, when he first escaped the Sanctuary, he returned to this spot to decorate it. He’d lugged heavy stones and sturdy branches over and arranged them around the spot where you died. Every time he came back, he wove flowers into the crevices between the stones and twigs. He swept away fallen leaves and shooed away unwanted pests. He’d bring random trinkets and pieces of jewelry he thought you’d like and arrange them atop the stones. There was a blend of old tarnished items, dead flowers, and the new trinkets and floral arrangements he’d brought just now.

The most important thing, though, was the handwritten letter he’d always bring along. He’d wait until he had enough to tell you, then he’d write up a lengthy letter, just to sit and read it to you there. This time, he could only write of how much he missed you. How dreary life had become without you. How he missed your sarcasm, your giggle, your voice, your singing. He talked about Judith and RJ, and how he wished he could have had a child with you. He was always afraid of fatherhood, but somehow it seemed possible with you. If only you were there.

When he finished, he let the tears flow freely. He cried to you, cried for you. Eventually he’d clean himself up and place a kiss on the necklace draped over the biggest stone. It was your necklace, the one you had never taken off since he met you. It was the last tangible part of you he was able to touch.

“See ya later.” He whispered as he walked away.

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