#but GOD every time I see him being DRAGGED for not dropping everything immediately to run away with Tim I want to scream

[half-an-hour-hence]

When people say they dislike Hawk I lose my mind. Is he selfish as fuck? Yes of course. Did he do questionable things that hurt other people? Yes he did.

But can we talk about how he loved someone before, how that someone literally DIED trying to stay close to him, and how incredibly guilty he would’ve felt about that? Can we entertain the possibility of Hawk being reluctant to love someone again in case the same thing happened?

Can we simultaneously talk about how his father found out about his relationship with this other man, disowned him, cut him out of the will, and ridiculed him until the day he died? Can we THEN talk about how his mother told Hawk he could apologise to his father for being who he was in order to be put back in the will, only for his father to talk to him like he was worth less than the shit on the bottom of his shoe and being forced to apologise for causing such an ‘inconvenience’?

And if that’s not enough, he’s got people he knows being fired from their jobs, ostracised from their family and friends, admitted to hospitals to have electroconvulsive therapy to be ‘cured’, and even going as far as to commit suicide because their sexualities have been discovered by people who think it’s disgusting and wrong. Hawk’s surrounded by this group of powerful people who wish to see people like him dead. There’s absolutely no way he’s going to raise his hand and admit that he is gay when he’s witnessed how people are punished for it. Nobody would - not when society was this oppressive and full of hatred towards queer people.

I cannot fathom the amount of fear that must’ve been controlling him, and the constant battle he must’ve been having within himself over what he wanted and what he could realistically have. He is not the villain here. The true evil is the views of society at the time. Hawk is a victim of his circumstances, and I will die on this hill.

[iamhereforfunnzies]

PlatonicYandere!Damian Wayne

Synopsis: Have you ever looked at your sibling and asked "What your cool?"

Damian never glared at you , no. Why would he? Look at you! His older sibling who is just some weird civilian if he didn't know any better he would have sliced you into halves for looking so indecent. How dare you walk around looking like some common criminal??? He turns red every time someone mentions that you both share blood.

Walking down the hall he spots his sibling with a leather jacket that is just pure color chaos , the colors don't compliment at all it looks who in their right mind make such an ugly ass jacket? The way there are random rips , using paint to be just splattering everywhere for nothing , why in god's name will you mix that shade of red and blue together??? It's too light and too dark! But the words you plastered...

He respected you for that , eyes widen in shock looking at those words , how could he not? Takes an abundance of confidence for anyone to be wearing that (Even if its ugly ass hell) . The thought of you wearing that outside makes his stomach churn , gotham isn't safe for you to be wearing that. So he did what's best.

He ripped your jacket to shreds, it was a necessity so stop crying like he killed your dog. Stop wailing and screaming as if he ripped your arm off. Please , I don't like it. It was so you can be safe what if someone killed you for wearing that? I am saving you. I AM SAVING YOU STOP CRYING.

He walked to you shaking his arms up just like how Dick always did everytime he felt weak and hug--- You pushed him to the wall.

What?

The image of you foaming in the mouth , pulling your hair as your eyes red looking at the remains of your jacket , you scream jittering as you try and try and try finding a way to fix it but it can't. Damian stares at you shaking he... Shouldn't have done that , his voice was dry and heavy as his lips quiver. "I am sorry."

You cover your face with your fingers , but your eyes sharpen looking at him. "Fucking Brat"

Dinner came , he sat down looking up seeing the seat empty. Everything goes without any changes as if his siblings appearance was just an option. Damian couldn't move on he wouldn't move on after that.

In some way he started going to your room , inspecting your closet. Every single piece of clothing is horrid to him , how does alfred even wash this without dulling the color. This entire closet from socks to hats need to be handwashed cause it's all so flimsy that it could easily break in the wash.

But every cloth had a purpose just not to cover up but oneself but to scream the words no one dares say. Have you been wearing this type of clothing all over gotham without a single wound!? He is... Impressed but worried. He notes that a shirt has dried blood though.

The way you speak makes makes him irked in astonishment how Father let's you go around doing anything. How are you even alive? Walking around with a target being so obnoxiously loud the Daam aliens can here you!

Once he was inspecting if you got any new articles of clothing when he heard the door open, he immediately hid himself. Watching you drag yourself to your bed with blood dripping from the side of your stomach made him bit his lip to stop himself from yelling at you.

His jaw drops , eyes shaking , fingers and feet felt a thousand needles prick him at once when he saw you inhaling the laughing gas.

"I know your there" you smile looking at the closet. Damian freezes , reluctantly opening the closet door.

"Ain't I something , lil bro?" Damian flinches seeing your easy going smile , you look so out of it but he played along. "What so your cool now?" he needed answers.

[marvelstan0905]

Helloooo can you please write one where Ken is just stressed his practices and barely has time with reader and their baby girl so reader surprises him by taking their bby to watch hin practice and the entire time their baby is just giggling and cheering him on?

"Sunshine in the dark"

Husband!Kenji Sato X Wife!Reader [Oneshot]

TW : petnames/fluff/mentions of overwhelm, sadness and guilt/Emi mention/Kenji's mom mention/not proofread yet/mixed POV

Note : Here you go! Hope you enjoy it! Thank you for the love and support!❤️

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Swing. Strike. Swing. Strike again. At this point Kenji had been out more times than he could count. His head was everywhere and he felt like he was pulled in numerous directions. The guilt and overwhelming feelings that drowned him where far too immense for Kenji. He couldn't even think of a time when he spent a full day, a whole 24 hours with his wife and beautiful baby girl, d/n. Kenji's little princess was so small, just months old and his mind was eating him for not being there for every single moment of her growth. That was only the cherry on the cake. His mother was still not found. All this Ultraman stuff was dragging him further down. Kaiju alerts left and right. Even if Emi was in a far better place and with her birth mom, Kenji couldn't help but worry from time. That was his baby as well. Then his passion, a reason for a smile on his face was going downhill as well. Baseball, God. Kenji felt like he was sleeping on the field. He was losing plays left and right. He couldn't get much sleep because of his own worrying and the Kaiju alerts which were increasing day by day. Along with that, he was doing his best to be a good husband and father. Trying to change and feed the baby at night, help his wife so she can rest as well but it felt like he was more of a problem than solution to his family.

"Goddammit! You're Ken Sato! The Ken Sato! Hit the ball! Hit the ball!" Kenji roared in frustration as he slammed the bat into the ground before picking it up. As the simulation of an old ball park surrounded Kenji, another ball was picthed and he missed once again. In complete frustration he slammed his knee into the bat. Instantly regretting it, he groaned from the pain and grumbled. "Of course. You're being so stupid, Kenji"

"Go Kenji!"

"You can do it, sweetheart! Just breathe!"

"Dada!"

Kenji immediately whipped his heads towards the stands to his beautiful wife, his daughter and his mother. All three of his favorite girls. Even if one was a simulation. It made Kenji's heart skip a beat and flutter in happiness. His baby daughter, sat on his wife's lap clapping and giggling. The infant finding joy in just seeing her father. Those little joys even made Kenji's frustration dissipate. Even for a moment. With a grin, you leaned to kiss your daughter's head.

"C'mon, princess. Say 'Go daddy'" I gently coaxed my daughter whiles she cooed and babbled. D/n just clapped and giggled calling out for her father with endless joy. Kenji's eyes brimmed with tears. This small moment, this joy meant the world to him. It was just what he needed. His sunshine in the dark.

Even so the simulation of his mother sitting right next his daughter and wife was all he needed. With a quick wipe to his cheeks, Kenji readied himself.

Batter up. Ichi. Ni. San. Ball!

With all his might, Kenji swung and finally hit the ball. The ball disappeared into the landscape of the simulation as Kenji dropped the bat and felt so refreshed. This small win. This trivial achievement. It was..everything to Kenji. At this very moment, he just needed this.

"YAY! GO KENJI!" I cheered for my husband. The simulation of his mother followed in suite urging him to run. Kenji went towards the stands and picked up his daughter. With a spin around, he peppered her face in kisses before running three bases with her safely tucked in his arms. At the very last stretch, just three quarters in from the third to home base, Kenji put his tiny princess down and held her hands tight. "That's it! You're almost there!"

"Come on, little one. You can make the home run for daddy!" Kenji encouraged his daughter who giggled. D/n held onto her daddy's index fingers and with his support she waddled towards home base. With some falls and babbles on frustration, she finally got there. Kenji couldn't help but think of Emi when his baby daughter finally made the home run.

"Home run! Let's go D/n!" I shouted from the stands. My daughter giggled and smiled brightly not even knowing what she was being praised for. Blissfully unaware of the impact her bright smile had on Kenji. "Well done, baby! You did Kenji!"

"There's my girl! Well done, princess" Kenji praised his tiny girl and picked her up holding her tight and kissing her tiny face. D/n clung to her father and nestled into his affection.

"Thank you." Kenji murmured as his cheek pressed against hus daughter's soft hair. Thank you to his wife, his daughter and..of course his mother. He really needed this.

[blairxbear]

How they react to you texting them for help, only to find out there's just a spider in your room...

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

Pure fluff, chaotic misunderstandings, and lots of over-the-top reactions!

Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo, Tamaki Amajiki, Hitoshi Shinso, Eijiro Kirishima, Mezo Shoji, Fumikage Tokoyami, Rikido Sato, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Katsuki Bakugo

Your Text:

"Katsuki, I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!!"

His Reaction:

IMMEDIATE PANIC MODE.

Eyes widen, jaw clenches, heart rate through the roof.

Drops everything.

"FUCK—ON MY WAY."

BURSTS OUT OF HIS ROOM, BLASTING HIS WAY OVER LIKE A DAMN ACTION HERO.

Busts your door open. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THE THREAT?!"

Sees you standing on a chair, pointing at a tiny-ass spider in the corner.

Silence.

The longest, most painful silence.

His eye twitches.

"You mean to tell me… YOU TEXTED ME LIKE YOU WERE DYING… FOR A FUCKING SPIDER?!"

You nod, still scared.

He sighs so hard he might pass out.

Grumbles under his breath but still yeets the spider out the window like a pro.

Turns back to you, arms crossed. "I swear to god, (Y/N), if you ever—"

You give him big puppy eyes.

He groans, running a hand through his hair. "Tch. Whatever. But you owe me dinner for this bullshit."

(Subtly stays for a bit just to make sure no more spiders appear.)

Bonus: Next time, if you text him, he replies with, "Spider or actual emergency? Be specific, dumbass."

Tamaki Amajiki

Your Text:

"Tamaki, please come quick! I need help!"

His Reaction:

IMMEDIATE EXISTENTIAL CRISIS.

Heart drops. Hands shake. He rereads the text five times.

OH GOD, WHAT IF YOU’RE BEING ATTACKED? WHAT IF YOU’RE HURT?

He doesn’t even text back—just SPRINTS OUT OF HIS ROOM.

Barges in, breathless, face PALE.

"Wh-what happened?! Are you okay?! Do you need the hospital?!"

You just shakily point at the spider on your dresser.

Tamaki.exe has stopped working.

Literal processing error.

Goes completely silent for a full ten seconds.

Blushes. A lot.

"O-oh. Uh. Th-that’s it?"

Face-palms so hard, but still takes care of the spider for you.

Cups it in his hands and gently releases it outside.

Still too embarrassed to make eye contact with you.

Mumbles, “Y-you… you scared me…”

You apologize, and he just nods, fidgeting with his sleeves.

Secretly proud he saved you, even if it was just from a spider.

Bonus: Now every time you text him, he hesitates before responding, "Is this another spider or…?"

Hitoshi Shinso

Your Text:

"Shinso, HELP ME PLEASE. COME QUICK!"

His Reaction:

Half-asleep when he sees your message.

Groans, rubs his eyes, heart already pounding.

"Shit… I’m coming."

Drags himself out of bed, throws on a hoodie, mentally preparing for battle.

Shows up at your place, yawning but READY.

Looks around. No blood. No screaming. Just you, standing on your bed.

Then you point at the spider on your wall.

He just… stares at you.

Squints. Blinks slowly.

Sucks in a deep breath.

"…I should’ve stayed in bed."

But despite his grumbling, he takes care of the spider for you.

Doesn’t even kill it—just casually flicks it out the window.

"There. Now go to sleep, you menace."

You grin at him, and he sighs, rubbing his temples.

"…I hate that I like you."

Bonus: If you ever text him for help again, he responds with, "On a scale of 1 to spider, how serious is this?"

Eijiro Kirishima 

Your Text:

"KIRI PLEASE HELP ME IT’S AN EMERGENCY!!"

His Reaction:

INSTANTLY JUMPS INTO ACTION.

Practically runs through walls to get to you.

"I’M COMING, DON’T WORRY!!!"

BURSTS IN, fists clenched, ready to fight off villains.

Sees you on the couch, looking scared.

Sees the spider on the floor.

Processing…

"…OH."

Relaxes, laughing nervously. "Haha, that’s… that’s the emergency?"

You nod frantically.

His heroic instincts kick in. "Alright, I got this!"

Gets down on one knee like he’s about to do some dramatic act of bravery.

Picks up the spider with his bare hands, grinning like an idiot.

Casually walks outside and lets it go, waving at it.

"See ya, little dude!"

Turns back to you, grinning. "Mission complete!"

Does a victory flex like he just saved an entire city.

You shake your head, laughing.

"Kiri, you’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously manly, you mean!"

Bonus: From now on, he calls himself your “Spider Slaying Hero” and will dramatically pose every time he saves you from one.

Mezo Shoji 

Your Text:

"Shoji, HELP! I NEED YOU NOW! IT’S URGENT!"

His Reaction:

Immediate concern. His heart races.

Drops whatever he’s doing and SPRINTS to your place.

So quiet that you don’t even hear him arrive—he’s just suddenly there.

Busts open the door, multiple arms ready to block an attack.

"Where are they? Are you hurt?"

You just shakily point at the spider on the ceiling.

Pause. Processing.

Slow blink.

"…(Y/N)."

His arms all slowly lower.

You give him an innocent smile. "I panicked."

Sighs SO HARD but still removes the spider for you.

Carefully cups it in one of his hands and takes it outside.

Returns and stares at you with his signature unreadable expression.

"Next time, please specify that the ‘danger’ has eight legs."

But despite his exasperation, he still ruffles your hair gently before leaving.

Bonus: Next time you text him, he’ll reply with, "Spider again?" before even asking what’s wrong.

Fumikage Tokoyami 

Your Text:

"Tokoyami, please come quickly! It’s an emergency!"

His Reaction:

He IMMEDIATELY assumes you’re in life-threatening danger.

Dramatically sweeps his cape back and RUNS to your place.

Bursts in like some kind of gothic knight.

"Fear not, (Y/N)! I am here to vanquish your demons!"

Sees you standing on your chair, pointing at the spider.

Silence.

Dark Shadow loses it. “PFFT—A SPIDER?! THAT’S THE BIG BAD THREAT?! BWAHAHAHA!”

Tokoyami sighs deeply, shoulders dropping.

"…You summoned me for… this?"

Despite his deadpan tone, he still calmly picks up the spider and lets it outside.

Dark Shadow is STILL LAUGHING. “Bro, you looked so cool running in, and it was for A SPIDER.”

Tokoyami is trying SO HARD to keep his dignity intact.

Clears his throat. Flips his cape dramatically before turning to you.

"I shall always answer your call, (Y/N)… but next time, I request full details of the situation."

Bonus: You now have to endure Dark Shadow roasting you for a full week.

Rikido Sato 

Your Text:

"SATO, PLEASE HELP! IT’S AN EMERGENCY!!"

His Reaction:

Drops his protein shake IMMEDIATELY.

Bolts to your place, heart pounding.

Kicks open the door like he’s about to throw hands.

"ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO DO I NEED TO—"

Stops when he sees you hiding behind a chair, pointing at the wall.

Follows your gaze. Sees the spider.

Processing…

"Wait… the emergency is a spider?"

You nod. He rubs his face.

Deep sigh of relief. "Oh, man. I thought you were like… bleeding out or something."

Still smiles, though, because he finds it cute that you called him.

Squishes the spider with a napkin and throws it away.

Turns to you, arms crossed, smirking. "You owe me a cookie for that one."

(100% will stay and eat snacks with you afterward. No way he’s running over here for nothing.)

Bonus: From now on, whenever you text him, he replies, "Do I need to bring snacks, or is it just another spider?"

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Your Text:

"Tetsu, PLEASE HELP ME! IT’S REALLY BAD!!"

His Reaction:

ZERO HESITATION.

"HANG ON, I’M COMIN’, BABE!"

Sprints full speed, metal hardening as he gets ready to BRAWL.

Barrels through your door like a human wrecking ball.

"WHO DO I NEED TO PUNCH?!"

Sees you clinging to your bed.

Sees the tiny spider.

Immediate 180.

"…Wait. You called me for a SPIDER?"

You nod frantically. He blinks. Then GRINS.

"HA! Alright, I got this!!"

Dramatically cracks his knuckles. Squats down like he’s preparing for an intense battle.

SLAMS his fist into the ground… and completely misses.

Spider scurries away.

"OH HELL NO, GET BACK HERE!"

You watch as he starts CHASING THE SPIDER AROUND YOUR ROOM LIKE A MADMAN.

Ends up punching a hole in the wall.

Finally smashes the spider and stands up, hands on his hips, grinning.

"MISSION COMPLETE!"

You just stare at the hole in your wall.

Tetsutetsu: "Uh… that was already there, right?"

Now you have a broken wall, but at least the spider is dead.

Bonus: Next time, he’ll still come running, but he’ll shout, "IS IT A SPIDER OR A REAL FIGHT?!" before getting there.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[wendichester]

Hello!! How are you? Since I found your profile, I’ve been loving everything you write, the aesthetic, and basically everything 🤍 and because you’ve been blessing us with your content, I want to tell you I freaking love you and deeply admire you, even more those days I’m bored out of my mind or I need to “disconnect” from my life, so, thank you very much 🤍

Also, I want to share with you (and I suppose your audience as well 😅), I’ve watched Supernatural when it was on the TV, but they were always random episodes and in different times of the day, so sometimes I could never fully understand the episode, or the episode’s context in general, and when I had the opportunity to have streaming services, I enjoyed Supernatural a lot more 😂 and Dean Winchester has been on my mind ever since. Another thing to share it’s that I’m from Memphis, I love it here, and I grew up with Elvis Presley’s music and watching the films he was in, because my grandma and mom love him a lot. And they love him so much that not only it’s my mom’s middle name, but it’s also MY middle name 🫢 I don’t hate it, I was pretty much forced to get used to loving my middle name, now I genuinely do, but every time someone new find out what the “E” stands for, it’s like reliving over and over again when I was in school and a teacher would say my full name, and many people (mainly the adults when I was a kid), would look at me funny when they said my middle name. Back then it did kind of embarrassed me, because they weren’t subtle about it and I was a shy kid, but now I find it entertaining and funny when people find out that the E stands for Elvis. And now not only I’m annoying you, and your audience, with part of my life, but I’d like to ask for a request as well 👉🏻👈🏻, how do you think Dean and Sam would react if a friend or girlfriend/boyfriend/partner (whatever relationship you prefer 😉), having the name Elvis as their middle name? I personally think Dean would be my worst nightmare 😂

✮⋆˙ the 'e' stands for elvis,

summary. sam and dean finally find out what your middle is and well... they have a blast.

pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester genre. fluff

wordcount. 513

notes / warnings. but this is adorable!! thank you for requesting hon 🤭🩷 also, my verdict:

dean :  would absolutely be your worst nightmare at first—relentless teasing, terrible impressions, zero chill. but it’s 100% how he shows affection. also, low-key thinks it’s cool and will absolutely drag you to graceland "for research" (read: to make more jokes). sam :  would find it endearing, gently tease you sometimes, but mostly just enjoy watching dean spiral. also, would defend you if dean took it too far (while secretly laughing).

The first time Dean finds out, it’s because Sam reads it off a motel receipt.

"Wait," Sam says, squinting at the faded print. "[Your First Name] Elvis [Your Last Name]?"

Dean, mid-sip of his beer, chokes so hard he nearly drops the bottle. "Elvis?"

You freeze, the familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck—but then you see Dean’s face. His eyes are wide, his mouth twitching like he’s trying so hard not to grin.

Sam, ever the diplomat, clears his throat. "That’s, uh—"

"Elvis," Dean repeats, louder this time, like he’s testing the word. Then, with the absolute delight of a man who’s just been handed comedic gold: "Like the Elvis? Jailhouse Rock, blue suede shoes, thankyouverymuch Elvis?"

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Yes, that Elvis."

Dean slams his beer down, pointing at you like he’s just cracked the case of the century. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

It gets worse.

Dean, being Dean, immediately weaponizes this information.

He starts singing "Hound Dog" every time you walk into a room. He leaves a single blue sock on your pillow ("for your next pair of blue suede shoes, sweetheart"). He even—god help you—starts calling you "Your Royal Highness" in a truly atrocious Southern accent.

Sam, at least, tries to rein him in.

"Dude," Sam sighs, watching Dean dramatically serenade you with "Can’t Help Falling in Love" over breakfast. "Give it a rest."

"Never," Dean declares, flipping a pancake with one hand and clutching his imaginary microphone with the other.

You groan, but—here’s the thing—you’re laughing. Because Dean’s being ridiculous, yeah, but he’s not mocking you. Not really. There’s something fond in the way he teases you, something that makes your chest feel warm despite the embarrassment.

The turning point comes one night in the Impala.

Dean’s driving, you’re in the passenger seat, and Sam’s snoring in the back. The radio’s playing some old rock station, and when "Suspicious Minds" comes on, Dean doesn’t say a word.

But then—quiet, almost hesitant—he starts humming along.

You glance at him, surprised.

Dean keeps his eyes on the road, but his fingers tap the steering wheel in time with the music. "My mom loved this song," he says after a minute, voice uncharacteristically soft.

Something in your chest tightens.

"Yeah?" you say.

Dean nods. "Played it all the time." He side-eyes you, his smirk returning. "Guess she had good taste. Unlike some people’s parents, naming their kid after the King like that."

You shove his shoulder, but you’re smiling.

Later, when Sam’s awake and Dean’s off getting snacks, Sam leans over.

"You know he does it ‘cause he likes you, right?"

You blink. "The Elvis thing?"

Sam nods. "Dean doesn’t tease people he doesn’t care about." He pauses, then adds, grinning, "Also, he’s had ‘Burning Love’ stuck in his head for three days. So, karma."

You laugh, and when Dean comes back, arms full of junk food, he narrows his eyes.

"What’d I miss?"

"Nothing," you say sweetly. Then, just to watch his face light up: "Thankyouverymuch."

Dean’s grin is brilliant.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[stargirllanaa]

Death Grips. III - R.C

Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys

Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep

Series Masterlist

A/n: hey guys, I just got back from out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it whether it’s an anonymous ask, reblog or comment I do read all feedback and try to incorporate what you guys suggest!

Part: III

…….

The beach was alive with noise and chaos. Voices carried across the sand, blending with the pounding of the waves and the crackle of the bonfire. The night should have felt carefree and fun even, but as soon as you saw Rafe leaning against a log near the fire, his easy laugh cutting through the hum of the crowd, it was like every muscle in your body locked up.

You froze, but Mia nudged you forward, oblivious—or maybe just willfully blind. “Come on,” she said with a grin, already scanning the crowd for Topper. “He’s not going to do anything. Just stick with me.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes stayed locked on Rafe as he glanced up and noticed you. His reaction was immediate—his laugh froze mid-sound, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly before he recovered. He raised his beer in a lazy toast, smirking in your direction.

Mia didn’t notice. “See? He’s being chill. You’re fine,” she said breezily, dragging you toward the fire.

But you didn’t feel fine.

At first, you stayed on the outskirts, keeping your distance and nursing the drink someone shoved into your hand. You told yourself you were just being paranoid, that Rafe wasn’t paying any attention to you. But it was impossible to shake the feeling of his eyes brushing over you whenever you moved too close to the firelight.

It wasn’t long before he was beside you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, almost soft.

You didn’t look at him. “What do you want?”

“I’m not trying to bother you,” he said quickly, hands raised as if to show he meant no harm. “I just—look, I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“I mean it,” Rafe said, his voice dropping. “I know I messed up. I’ve been… I don’t know. Trying to figure my shit out.” He took a step closer, his gaze steady. “I just want us to be cool. That’s all.”

“Cool,” you repeated flatly. “Right. Sure.”

You wanted to walk away, to shut him down and make it clear he wasn’t welcome. But something in his tone—his softness, his willingness to admit fault made you hesitate. It wasn’t like him.

“I mean it,” he said again, holding your gaze. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want things to be like this. It doesn’t have to be so… heavy.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t trust him. He’d proven that over and over. But he didn’t press. He just lingered, staying close but not too close, offering you drinks every time your cup got low.

You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you were laughing at something—God knows what—with a girl you barely knew. The firelight blurred, the edges of the world softening as the alcohol worked its way through your system.

Rafe wasn’t far, leaning against a log a few feet away, his eyes on you.

“You’re finally relaxing,” he said, his voice light as he moved closer.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

He smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. “Not trying to. Just saying it’s nice to see you like this. You’re always so tense around me.”

“Damn, I wonder why,” you shot back, though your words were starting to slur.

He laughed, low and warm. “Fair point.”

Before you could respond, he tilted his head toward the darker stretch of beach beyond the fire. “Let’s go for a walk. Too loud here.”

“No thanks,” you said immediately, shaking your head.

“Come on,” he pressed, his tone light but insistent. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk. No bullshit, I promise.”

You hesitated. Part of you screamed to stay by the fire, to not let him pull you away from the safety of the crowd. But the alcohol muffled your thoughts, loosening your grip on the fear that always kept you guarded around him.

Against your better judgment, you nodded.

The sound of the party faded as you walked, the waves swallowing the noise until it was just the two of you under the moonlight. You stumbled slightly, the uneven sand throwing you off balance, but Rafe’s hand steadied you.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice closer than you realized.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, shrugging off his hand.

He didn’t let go immediately, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment too long before he finally stepped back.

When you stopped walking, he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

“I miss us,” he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. But I want to fix it.”

You stared at him, the alcohol dulling your initial burst of anger. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not asking you to forget everything,” he said quickly. “I just—I want another chance. I can be better. I know I can.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter. “Another chance? Are you insane?”

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve been working on myself. I’ve been trying—”

“You’re fucking delusional,” you snapped, cutting him off. The alcohol loosened the words, pulling them out of you before you could stop. “You cheated on me. You hit me. You made me feel like I was nothing. And now you want me to just… what? Forget all of that and give you another chance?”

Rafe flinched, the softness in his expression hardening into something sharper. “I was messed up back then. I didn’t know how to—”

“No,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You always knew. And you loved it.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have a part in it,” he said, his voice rising. “You knew how to push my buttons. You knew how to make me lose my shit.”

You took a step back, your body trembling. “You’re disgusting.”

The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, you thought he might lash out, that he’d grab your arm or raise his voice. But instead, he smiled—cold and sharp, the boyish charm replaced by something cruel.

“You’re drunk,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I’ll give you a pass. But you’re not over me. You never will be.”

You turned and walked away, the sound of his laughter following you as you stumbled back toward the fire. You didn’t care if you looked unsteady or ridiculous; all you cared about was putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

When you reached the edge of the crowd, Mia was nowhere to be seen. Your stomach twisted, a fresh wave of anger rising as you realized she’d probably disappeared with Topper again, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Your hands shook as you grabbed your bag, your breaths coming in uneven gasps. You didn’t look back toward the dark stretch of beach where Rafe still stood, watching you.

~~~~~~

You slammed the door of your dorm shut, the sound echoing through the small space. Your clothes still smelled faintly of bonfire smoke, your hair damp from the salt air, but none of that mattered. The only thing you could focus on was the lingering sensation of Rafe’s smirk, his words still ringing in your ears.

“You’re not over me. You never will be.”

The audacity made your stomach churn, and as you tossed your bag onto your bed, you couldn’t stop your hands from trembling. You needed to talk to someone to make sense of everything that had happened at the beach. But when Mia walked through the door minutes later, her laughter bubbling over as she scrolled through her phone, something inside you snapped.

She looked up, startled. “Whoa. What’s with the death glare?”

“Where the hell were you?” you snapped, unable to hold it anymore.

The smile on her face faded instantly. “What?”

“At the beach,” you said, your voice shaking. “You said we’d stick together, that you wouldn’t leave me alone, and then you disappeared with Topper like it was nothing.”

Mia’s brow furrowed, her confusion quickly morphing into defensiveness. “Hold on, what happened? Did Rafe—”

“What do you think happened?” you snapped, cutting her off. “He cornered me, got me drunk, and then tried to tell me he wants me back. And you weren’t there, Mia. You left me alone with him.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, but nothing actually happened, right? I mean, you’re here, you’re fine—”

“Fine?” The word came out sharp, almost bitter. “Are you kidding me? You know what he’s like, Mia. You know how much he’s put me through, and you still dragged me there like it didn’t matter. You’re literally fucking his best friend.”

Her mouth opened, then closed, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It’s not like that,” she said finally. “Topper’s not Rafe, and I thought—”

“You thought what?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “That I’d just magically be okay? That I’d be fine hanging out with my abusive ex at a party while you played house with his best friend?”

“Abusive?” she repeated, her eyes widening slightly.

You froze, realizing the word had slipped out before you could stop it. But there was no taking it back now. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter now. “He was abusive, Mia. And you still keep putting me in situations where I have to see him. Do you even care how that feels for me?”

Her expression shifted, guilt flickering across her face before she crossed her arms defensively. “Of course, I care,” she said. “But it’s not like I’m dragging you into this on purpose. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ghost Topper because you and Rafe had a shitty relationship?”

The words hit you like a slap, your anger twisting into something deeper—something closer to hurt. “I’m not asking you to break things off with him,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m asking you to have some fucking empathy. You’re supposed to be my friend, Mia.”

“I am your friend,” she shot back. “But maybe you need to stop blaming me for everything. I didn’t make you date him, and I didn’t make you stay with him when things got bad. That was your choice.”

You flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than you expected. For a second, you thought about yelling, about telling her to leave and never come back. But instead, you turned away, your chest tight with something between anger and sadness.

“Just… go, Mia,” you said quietly. “I can’t do this right now.”

She hesitated, her arms still crossed. “Fine,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “But don’t expect me to keep putting up with this shit forever.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the room.

~~~~~

You were sitting on your bed, the faint glow of your desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy, the silence broken only by the sound of Rafe pacing in front of you.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, his voice low and clipped.

You froze, clutching the device tighter. “Why?”

“Because,” he snapped, facing you with a sharp glare. “I saw Bella texting you earlier. What did she say?”

“Nothing important,” you said quickly, your stomach twisting.

He didn’t believe you. “Show me.”

You hesitated, your fingers trembling as you unlocked your phone and handed it over. He snatched it from your grasp, scrolling through your messages with a storm brewing in his eyes.

His jaw clenched as he stopped on Bella’s most recent text:

“r u ok? im rlly worried about u and rafe. u don’t have to stay with him yk. u deserve sm better. <3”

“Worried about us?” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mockery. “What’s she so worried about, huh? Did you tell her we had a fight? That’s cute.”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” you said quickly, your chest tightening. “She’s just… she’s just being a good friend.”

“She’s not your friend,” he said sharply, tossing the phone onto the bed. “She’s trying to break us up. You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see what’s going on?”

“She’s not trying to break us up,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “She’s just—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, his tone cold and final. “You’re done talking to her. Do you hear me? You’re going to block her, and you’re not going to say another word to her. She’s gone.”

“No,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible. “You’ve already made me cut off everyone else. Bella’s the only friend I have left.”

“You still have me... you have Mia,” Rafe said, stepping closer, his shadow looming over you. “That should be enough for you. You don’t need anyone else.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. “This isn’t protection, Rafe. This is fucking control-”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you flinch.

“What did you just say?” he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

You didn’t answer.

~~~~~~~~

You woke with a gasp, your heart pounding as you sat up in bed. The room was dark, the faint glow of your phone the only source of light. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the weight of the dream pressing down on your chest.

Even now, after everything, he still had a hold on you.

~~~~~~~~

It was late when you found yourself outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You hadn’t meant to leave the dorm, but sitting in that room, surrounded by memories and silence, felt unbearable.

You ended up at the campus library steps, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was quiet and peaceful in a way that almost felt foreign.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You turned, startled, to see Cam leaning against the railing, a book in one hand and a thermos in the other. His smile was easy, and his presence grounding, making you feel like you could finally take a breath.

“Something like that,” you admitted, sitting down beside him.

He didn’t press or ask why your eyes were rimmed with exhaustion or why you were out so late. Instead, he offered you the thermos, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you held it.

“I saw you at the beach,” he said after a moment, his tone careful.

You stiffened but didn’t look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “You okay?”

You thought about lying, about brushing it off like you always did. But the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“No.”

He nodded like he’d expected that, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “If you ever want to talk…”

“I don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. Then, softer: “Not yet.”

“That’s fine,” he said easily, leaning back against the steps. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t respond, but for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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[ghost-proofbaby]

NOW WE'RE STANDING IN THE RING, BREAKING EVERYTHING THAT WE'VE BEEN BUILDING UP SO LONG. I DON'T WANNA DO THIS - BREAK IT UP.

summary: you prepare to fight with eddie, when a new discovery takes you both off-guard.

warnings: strong language, angst, everybody's a hypocrite, minors dni

wc: 5.9k+

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You can’t tell if the ride on the elevator is all too short, or if it drags out entirely. 

The entire ascension, you find the fire again. All the pain and anger that had fueled you to be acting out so cruelly in the lobby. And yet the bell that signals you’ve arrived to your intended floor still dings all too soon. 

It’s hard to get lost. The moment you step off the elevator, you can clearly see only three doors – two of which sit within an indented section of the wall and face one another, clearly the bathrooms. 

Behind the other one, Eddie Munson, no doubt. 

You still cling to that notebook as you take all your steady steps towards the door, turning over all your fury in your head. Turning all the lyrics over in your head. 

All those songs, all those lines – and he’d never picked up the phone and just called. 

You can only assume that it was all written more recently. Before he’d seen you again, even. And if he had still been writing about you, he could have tried calling you. He could have said all that he’d written to you directly, rather than hiding it all within songs that there was no guarantee you’d ever hear. Instead of singing them to crowds of adoring fans rather than to your face. 

You don’t knock on the door – you just open it. 

Music immediately surrounds you as you step in, loud enough that they clearly hadn’t heard you enter. Grainy guitars, deafening drums, billowing bass. And finally, amongst the madness, you can hear Eddie’s voice singing. 

“Do you wanna see how far it goes? Do you wanna test me now, my love?” 

Yes. Yes, you certainly fucking do. 

It’s not Eddie’s live voice coming through the speakers. It’s clearly a recording as he sits beside the producer, hunched over and nodding along, face twisted as he seems to dissect the music in real time.

One flourish of his ringed hand, and the producer is clearly hitting pause. 

“Do you think we can add in that synth I recorded earlier here-”

“Eddie.” 

His hand drops the moment he hears your voice. The chair he’s sitting in nearly tips from the speed in which he spins it around to face you, resembling a statue as he takes in your silhouette in the doorframe. 

You can only imagine the image he’s faced with. 

You, all your vexation and all your torment painted so clearly across your features. Your knuckles, looking physically strained from how tightly the metal spring of the notebook digs into your palm. Your chest, heaving with every breath, as if even being within his vicinity right now was torturous. 

And it was. God, it was. 

Salt in your wounds. Dagger in your stomach. Poorly bandaged contusions you’d never taken the time to balm and soothe. 

“Sugar,” he breathes out, earning him a strange look from the producer, “What are you-”

“Can we talk?” 

Your voice is quivering, strained from trying to keep a level head until the two of you are alone. 

“Right now?”

“Right now,” you almost add on the given alone, but Eddie is one step ahead of you. As he stands, he also waves his hands a bit, clearly dismissing the producer. 

“You want me to leave?” the man asks, standing slowly, looking curiously between the two of you, “Where do I even go? Matt said we’d be working for another few hours, at least-”

“Go to the fuckin’ lobby or something,” Eddie spits out, having a hard time pulling his eyes away from you, “I don’t-” He pauses, his eyes finally finding sight of that notebook in your hand. Clearly, he hadn’t noticed it before. “-care.”

All the blood drains from his face. He’s so pale, you’re worried that he might pass out any second now. 

He doesn’t look prepared for a fight – if anything, he looks terrified of whatever you may swing at him. 

The producer leaves, not without a few mutterings under his breath about not this again, but you don’t even bother to dig deeper into it. If Eddie frequently gets into fights in this studio, that’s his problem. 

Maybe he shouldn’t write songs about girls he’d hurt, and never pick up the phone.

He seems to be waiting on you, but you’re waiting on the click of the door. All that hurt, all that seething is burning in your chest, waiting for release. There’s no need to have any witnesses to the downfall of both of you. 

“How was your mor-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. One click from the door, and you’re storming across the room to slam that notebook into his chest, uncaring of how much it might hurt. 

You hope it hurts. You hope it aches like your palm that had held it, like your chest that feels as though it’s been pried wide open. 

“What the fuck is this?” you spit out, already choking up with tears. 

“What do you-”

“Where the fuck do you get off on writing all those- all those- all those fucking songs about us?” You don’t care that you’ve cut him off – it’ll be the least harmful thing you do during this argument. You’re desperate, rabid and crumbling as you push the notebook harder for emphasis, unable to let go just yet, “All those goddamn songs, lines about wanting me to come home, lines about us. Fucking pages of them! And not one single call. Not one single text.”

The first tear falls, and you’re quick to let go of the notebook so you can swipe it away. You’re not crying in front of him right now. You’ve done enough of that this morning, over old photographs and times you can never get back. 

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” he laughs nervously, looking between you and the notebook he now has ownership of. He flips open the cover, and his face falls when he sees the first page, “You were reading my notebooks?”

“Who even cares at this point?” you hiss out, taking a step back, needing physical distance now. “It was the only way I would ever find out how you really feel, right? It was between that, or having to hear it on the radio, right?” 

His face goes through several revelries before he settles on an emotion, mouth agape as he shakes his head slowly at you, brows furrowed and all his creases exposed, “Are you seriously pissed off right now that the rockstar wrote songs about you? That I wrote about you, which is what I do for a living?” 

“Your job isn’t to write about me!” Thank God for soundproof studios. Your voice is rising, tone cracking with emotion, “I’m not fucking mad that you did that, I’m mad that you never called-”

“I did call!” he yells back at you suddenly. Not out of intimidation, not even out of fury. He has to do it – he has to match your volume just to be heard. “I called hundreds of times. Before the tour ended, when I got back, when I saw you were gone. I did fucking call-”

“I’m mad that you fucking left!”

Silence fills the studio. Eddie has no retorts left as your words weigh down the moment, ricocheting off the walls and puncturing every delicate foundation of whatever closure bullshit you two had begun to falsely build. 

You finally throw your head back in bitter laughter, blinking away the unwelcome tears, “I’m so goddamn angry because you left me.”

“What?” his face falls, almost crumpling in the same manner as it felt your chest was, “You told me to go on those tours. You wanted me to get out there with the band. Not to mention, you left too. You left, seemingly without a goddamn reason. You said it yourself, just now-”

“It’s not about the physical leaving,” you interrupt, bones growing weary, tired from it all. Weighed down with memories and weighed down with emotions that should have been dealt with years ago. “I lost you long before you stepped foot on that tour bus that last time. You…” you pause, breathing erratic, coming out in harsh puffs, trying to build the courage for what needed to be said. 

“I what?” he’s all but begging now, the need to scream over each other evaporating into thin air.

“You stopped saying you loved me.” 

The words are out there now, and you can’t take them back. Two long years of him writing songs, of you washing away a stain that won’t ever fade, of something broken that can’t seem to be fixed. 

You reach out, but not to try and steal back the reason from him. No, that’s not possible. Instead, you take the notebook back from him and begin to gingerly flip through the pages as the tears fall and the words pour out.

“All those phone calls, all these songs, and you still never say the words I needed to hear,” you’re not just talking in past tense any more. It all seemingly blurs together, the past and the present nothing more than watercolors as they spill across the page and merge together. You can’t tell where the hurt from the beginning lays and where the hurt from now feathers at the edges. It’s all the same, and it all remains a stain, “I never needed elaborate metaphors or pretty words, Eddie. I just needed to know you still fucking loved m-”

You cut off as the door to the studio suddenly swings open. You’re frozen, rooted in spot, hand glued mid-flip as Eddie’s messy handwriting stares up at you from the page you paused on. 

Eddie looks ready to fight. To scream at whoever may have interrupted this crucial moment – a moment for you to finally say what you needed to, a moment for him to finally get his answers. 

He doesn’t, though. Not when a fairly livid, almost frazzled Matt is standing in the doorway, glaring at both of you.

“Ah, good,” he says, stepping fully into the small space that had just been a war-zone for you and Eddie. The door slams shut behind him due to its own gravity, “You’re both here. Makes my job easier.” 

“Matt?” Eddie crinkles his nose, “What the Hell are you doing-”

“What am I doing?” Matt walks until he’s standing in front of the coffee table, and motions to the couch with a flick of his wrist. Eddie is quick to follow the silent instruction, taking a seat, but you’re slower to move. You are not Matt’s dog, refusing to be at anybody else’s beck and call at this moment. And so you continue to hover, “What are you doing?” 

You become the pet he needs you to be when he suddenly tosses a magazine down on the coffee table, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, Matt has good reason to be commanding you. 

The vinyl front cover stares up at you, shining beneath the lowlights of the studio, but the image is clear. 

You and Eddie, walking into his apartment building. And in bold lettering, simple textually strokes in blinding white, is a headline that weighs you down enough to make you take the last few necessary steps around the table to fall into place beside Eddie on the couch. 

EXCLUSIVE GOSSIP ALERT: Rockstar Eddie Munson Spotted Canoodling with Mystery Flame! (pg. 89)

Matt’s eyes dart between you two before he finally sighs, “We need to talk.” 

—

The sweat of your hands is making the corners of the magazine pages curl. 

It’s the detail you choose to focus on rather than all the honking and commotion surrounding the car you’re currently sitting in, or the chilling AC that has blasted your right cheek to the point of numbness. The radio is off, the tinted windows are rolled up to dull the music of the city around you, and Matt hasn’t said a word since you’d buckled yourself into his passenger seat. 

Following Matt’s abrupt interruption of you and Eddie, contained chaos had ensued. A symphony of Eddie immediately coming to your defense, claiming the two of you weren’t even canoodling in the photos on the front cover. Of you, only being able to utter a shocked question of how? 

How did they get those photos? How did they print them so fast? How, how, how?

In the last twelve hours, as your life had been piecing together old rotting bricks only to once more fall apart entirely, some cheap gossip journalists had been formulating a front cover that truly felt like it was ruining your entire life. You didn’t know who all had seen the magazine, you didn’t know if the news had spread far and wide across the internet, and you certainly didn’t know what happened next. 

But then Matt insisted you all return to his office. A guarded ivory tower to discuss exactly what you were questioning – to figure out where you go from here. 

Eddie had been quick to suggest you ride back with him in the car that had brought him to the office; you had been quick to shoot down the offer and ask Matt for a ride instead. 

That’s how you ended up here. A magazine you wanted to burn at the stake in your lap, stuck in traffic on a busy street that more so resembled a parking lot at this point. 

“We need to talk about it.”

The first words Matt has spoken to you since the drive began. Not a question, not a request – you were going to talk about this shit show. No running from it, it seems. 

“I don’t know how they got the photo,” you blandly reply in monotone, staring down at the two photos clearly taken back to back, merged together with some pretty impeccable photoshopping. Doesn’t erase the fact that they’d definitely caught you’re bad angle, “I didn’t even see any paparazzi-”

“I don’t care about that,” Matt waves off as the light you’d been stopped at for several minutes now turns green, and there’s just enough of a gap in bustling pedestrians crossing the street for him to make the right turn he’d been signaling the entire time, “One thing you need to learn right here, right now, is there will always be paparazzi around when you’re in public with Eddie. You won’t always see them, but you should always assume they’re there.” 

The ceasing of that irritating clicking is heaven sent. One less commotion to cloud your reeling mind. 

“What do you care about then?” you mumble, finally side-eyeing the older man beside you. 

“I care about what you are to Eddie.” 

“I can promise you, I am noth-”

“Don’t feed me the same bullshit excuses he has, please,” Matt sighs as the rolling car slows, and he signals once more to turn into the parking lot of one of the many impressive skyscrapers towering over the street, “I’m not an idiot. Eds may seem to think I am half the time, but I’m not,” a confining parking space is where the SUV finally settles, but Matt makes no move to turn the vehicle off as he turns to look at you fully, “Look, just level with me. Because as of right now, the only thing I know is that you went to high school together. I need to know where exactly you stand with Eddie, not just because he’s my client, but because of the conversation we’re about to have.” 

Your heart fully drops, “What kind of conversation are we about to have?” 

“A hard one,” Matt instantly replies, not missing a beat, “A very, very hard one. With so many moving factors, it’s gonna give you a headache. And I want to warn you of it, give you a fair chance, because you seem like a nice girl. You’re not used to this circus like me and Eddie are – you deserve a fighting chance at what’s about to be asked of you.” 

What’s about to be asked of you. 

You had a few guesses, simply based on the grave look on Matt’s face. Simply based off of all the research you used to do back in your room in Hawkins’, when the joke of you managing Corroded Coffin felt more and more like a real possibility. 

“An NDA?” you guess, trying to seem indifferent. You should have seen that coming. 

“More than an NDA, dear.” 

Your head snaps in his direction, brows furrowing, “What could you possibly want from me that’s more than signing a piece of paper that promises I won’t tell anyone what’s happened last night?” you hold up that magazine from your lap, giving it a fluttering shake for emphasis, “Wasn’t that the point of showing us this?” 

He only smiles. Your heart only sinks further. 

“I’m going to ask you one last time; what are you to Eddie, really?”

A muse. A stain. A ghost. Something to haunt every avenue he’ll ever take for the rest of his life. A mistake better left unspoken between the two of you. A blip in his past, impossible to avoid. Something better left dead and buried, but the Universe just won’t seem to let the two of you rest. 

“I’m his ex-girlfriend.” 

How do you define an ex, though? Did you ever really end it? How can something be over if neither party has ever been willing to say the words? 

Matt nods slowly, smiling almost sadly, “I figured as much. Thank you, at least, for being honest.” 

“Can I ask you something, and you answer me honestly?”

The car carrying Eddie is probably nearly here. They had probably gotten swept into traffic while following behind Matt’s car. A few extra minutes added to their journey as they’d tried to navigate the nightmarish streets of New York. 

Come to think of it, you don’t even know if he’ll be using the same front entrance as you and Matt. 

“You won’t always see them, but you should always assume they’re there.”

He could use the back entrance, if there was one, to avoid the paparazzi. 

Technicalities you had never had to consider before. You’d only experienced a fraction of Eddie’s fame firsthand, in the beginning, when it was still reasonable to show him off. To brag about him in public, to pronounce your love from every rooftop. Hiding had never been an option – it hadn’t needed to be an option. 

“I know what your question is,” Matt says carefully, “And we both know I won’t say anything until we’re inside that building with Eddie.” 

“Is he even going to go through the fr-” you start to question, but cut off just as you see a familiar black SUV pull up to the front doors of the building. 

You have your answer, it seems. 

Matt unbuckles his seatbelt, and you take it as your sign to do the same. But just as you begin to reach for your door, Matt’s hand on your forearm stops you. 

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry for what I’m about to ask the two of you. Especially now that I know the truth.” 

Your heart finally arrives to the point of no return, unable to answer as the organ is buried six feet under within the grave that should be meant for yourself when it comes to the history books of Eddie Munson. 

Just what was Matt about to ask of the two of you?

You open the door without responding. 

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[theroyalyandere]

yandere prince trying to denied the fact that he was abso-fucking-lutely obsessed with female servant reader. this man is in his denial stages. he's always shouting at the female servant reader that she was just a peasant and he was a god (we all know he is fuckng delusional but since its a yandere well then its not so suprising.) and the peak is when at one time the prince caughting the female servant reader being too close to the other prince who was visiting his palace. so when he caught up the female servant his jealousness began to rise as much as the rage he's feeling and he immediately pulled her away from the other prince, and then he bring her to his fancy chamber and yk, they fuck while the prince say "fuck i'm.. i'm so fucking in love, fuck.. you're mine now, yeah, yeah you're mine." and the female servant reader is only muttered "no" and "please" repeatedly. please make this noncon, the darker the fics, the better.

yandere!prince x female servant!reader smut 18+

cw: reader has a vagina, delusional yandere, noncon, obsession, jealousy, toxic relationships, male masturbation, humiliation, dacryphilia, drowning, punishments, spanking, groping, power imbalance, cucking (oops), a little god complex maybe???, mentions of children/pregnancy, slapping.

a/n: I put so many warnings please tell me if I missed something. Also I added more elements in this if you don't mind!

you've been working for a while as a servant to the royals and most of the time you attend to the prince because of his request

you do not know why he chose you out of all people he's the one who chose you yet you find yourself always receiving his anger and him shouting at you

the prince loves to humiliate you in front of everyone and you chose to bear it instead of losing your head if you ever snapped

he would often spill his drink on purpose, asking you to lick the liquid on the floor where everyone will see

he would also give you the most complicated tasks leaving you exhausted by the time you complete each you do not know why he torments you this much but he does it out of love, he thinks he loves seeing you on your knees, that desperate look on your face, the way your face falls when he insults you, he thinks you look so pretty and pathetic

he wants to lock you in a dungeon where only him has access to

he would often sneak to your quarters where sometimes you cry out of frustration

he gets hard at the sight of your tear stricken face, he would often close his eyes and masturbate to the thought of you crying underneath him it never fails to make him cum every single time

he tells himself he is not attracted to you yet his territorial nature over you says otherwise

he despises it even if you're a second late after he asked for you

the prince is the one who often delivers punishments when you fail to do something or displease him in any other way (which is all the time)he would bend you over and spank your ass until it's all swollen and your eyes filled with tears, groping you in the process after your punishment you always end up sobbing making his heart flutter with the way you look at him with those doe eyes

the prince can't help himself but be soft on you which can be rare however when he softly kisses your tears away it always leaves you confused then he would later shift back to his cruel self

his torment would continue until..he dragged you away to accompany him to walk beside the pond, he purposely dropped an item of his onto the water and ordered you to get it for him

you reluctantly lean down to the pond to reach for the object then suddenly you were pushed into the water

you watched as everything became a blur the prince looking down at you, just watching you struggle

you flail your arms and try to swim with your might

you keep shouting for help but no one could her you nor help you

as you start losing consciousness, you hear another splash before you faint from exhaustion

you wake up on a bed with people surrounding you, your vision blurry and a head that felt like cotton

you groan out from the aches and pain in your body

you blink to see who was arguing right infront of you

as your vision clears up, you see the prince arguing with someone unfamiliar.

the other person scans your condition and his eyes land on yours

he immediately walks closer towards you despite the prince's protests

he introduces himself as the prince of the neighboring kingdom

he treats you gently like a fragile glass and asks how you were

too lost into his kindness, you fail to acknowledge your prince's presence

you continued to respond to the questions thrown your way while the possessive prince walked out

for the times you were recovering, the kind and gentle prince kept visiting you. always having a bouquet of flowers or food in hand for you.

you slowly became closer to him as he extended his stay to get you even more as his new friend.

you introduce him to a bunch of stuff that doesn't exist yet at his kingdom.

your attention and time preoccupied by the kind hearted prince. you feel at peace, almost living a fairytale life.

meanwhile, everyone else is walking around egg shells when your possessive prince crosses their way

his tantrums got even worse as he watches you go on a date with the foreign prince.

he tried a different bunch of ways to sabotage the other but he always failed.

as he sees how your face glows with happiness he slowly comes to a conclusion that he loves you, after so many times denying it and now he admits how much he wants to touch you, kiss you, and make you his.

he remembered that all he wanted was you and seeing you so happy with another is making his dark intentions come out to light.

he's supposed to be the only one you treat with respect, you should be looking at him and only him. he should be the one you're worshipping and he's about to make you pay.

later that day, after you were escorted by the prince you've come to acquainted with gently kissed your hand before you enter your chambers.

you turn around with a soft smile on your face as you reflect on the events that happened.

you let out a gasp as you see who's sitting at the foot of your bed.

he smiles menacingly as you get stuck in place while he walks towards you.

your knees trembling from fear seeing how dark his eyes look.

you let out a whimper as he corners you and he presses a handkerchief to your face before you fall unconscious.

you wake up tied to his bed in the grand chamber.

you look across you and see your beloved prince tied on a chair with a gag on his mouth, protesting to set him free.

your eyes tear up at his predicament, as you look to the side the possessive prince, the one you despise the most walk over you like a vulture about to gobble up his prey.

you shout profanities at him and ask him to let you go.

it turns him on seeing the flame in your eyes.

he only let's out a dark laugh.

"you think you can live without me? running away with your prince like a happily ever after. but that's alright I'm here to make you realize that you belong to me."

he crawls over you as you try to kick him but the chains restrain you, he gropes your legs, thighs, stomach, then your chest.

burying his face into your breasts as he looks up at you.

"I can't wait to claim you with my child in your womb."

you cry and shout to get away from you but he only kisses and marks you roughly while the one you love watches you get ravaged by the other.

tears stream down your face as he licks your cheek.

he rips your clothes leaving you naked.

the prince forces your legs open before taking out his hard member.

he pulls you towards him as you try to get away but he was too strong.

he looks behind him and rub his cock against your swollen pussy.

"watch as I take her, maybe that should teach you not to touch what's not yours."

with that, he thrusts into your cunny with a groan while you let out a wail of pain

he doesn't let you adjust as he grabs your throat pinning you down onto the bed brutally fucking you.

"No- p-please!! stop!"

tears cloud your vision as your breath lessens from the way he's squeezing your air pipe.

you slowly stop thrashing as you grow tired and come to accept your fate.

you keep crying as he takes you by force.

he slaps your cheek noticing how you seem to lose focus.

"You're all mine you hear me? I love you so fucking much, can't you see that?"

he mushes your lips together and kisses you hungrily.

the prince changes your position so you can see your beloved's reaction at your defilement.

he watches you wide eyed, tears also streaming down his face as he helplessly watches you.

the one ramming behind you pulls you close to him with your back against his chest.

"No one can take you away from me now, you're mine forever."

[alittlegiraffe]

"Never That" - Part 3

It started small.

Marshall had been scrolling on his phone, half paying attention to the game on TV, when he noticed it. The little notification under your latest Instagram post.

Chad liked your photo.

He frowned.

Chad—the same idiot who had been running his mouth alongside Tabitha, the same clown who had laughed about making you insecure—was liking your posts?

Marshall ignored it at first. Maybe the dude was just watching, seeing how bad he and his girl had gotten dragged online after the diss track dropped. Maybe he was just lurking, trying to save face.

But then it happened again. And again.

Your old posts. Pictures from months ago.

And it wasn’t just likes. He was watching your stories, too. Every single one.

Marshall was still frowning at his phone when you walked into the room, freshly showered, wrapped up in one of his hoodies. You flopped down beside him on the couch, tucking yourself against his side like you always did.

He barely reacted. Still staring at his screen.

You noticed immediately.

“What?” You nudged him. “Why do you look like that?”

Marshall gritted his teeth, then turned the phone to show you. “This motherfucker’s all over your page.”

You blinked at the screen, taking in the flood of likes from Chad. You snorted. “Oh, come on, he’s just creeping. Let him embarrass himself.”

Marshall’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, well, he better quit before he embarrasses himself off the internet.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. “Babe, it’s fine. He’s just being weird.”

Marshall wasn’t convinced. But you kissed his cheek, distracting him, and eventually, he let it go.

Until the next day.

When you checked your phone and saw a DM notification from someone you never expected.

Chad: Hey, I just wanna talk.

Your stomach dropped.

You stared at the message, completely frozen.

“What the fuck?” you muttered under your breath.

Marshall, who had just walked into the room, immediately picked up on your tone. “What?”

You turned the screen toward him, still in disbelief. “He—he messaged me.”

Marshall went still.

Then—

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You had never seen him move that fast.

Before you could even process what was happening, Marshall snatched the phone from your hand.

You barely had time to blink before he was scrolling, tapping, opening the DM like it was his business—because, let’s be real, when it came to you, everything was his business.

His jaw clenched so tight you swore you heard his teeth grind. His thumb hovered over the keyboard like he was this close to firing off something that would make the dude regret ever touching his phone.

“Marshall—” You reached for your phone, but he jerked back, blue eyes blazing.

“Nah,” he growled, his grip tightening. “Nah, what the fuck does this dude think he’s doin’? Messaging you like—” He cut himself off, shaking his head, his breathing already getting heavier. “He really wants me to fuckin’ kill him, huh?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t even know what to say to him.”

“You ain’t sayin’ shit,” Marshall shot back. “You ain’t gotta say a damn thing to this desperate-ass motherfucker.” He scrolled back up, glaring at the message like it had personally offended him. “What the fuck does he even mean by this? ‘I just wanna talk’—talk about what? How he’s a fuckin’ loser? How his girl lied and got him caught up in some shit that ain’t got nothin’ to do with him?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, babe. Maybe he just—”

“I swear to God, if you say ‘maybe he just wants to clear the air,’ I’m gonna lose my shit,” Marshall muttered, shaking his head. “He’s been creepin’ on your page for days, and now he’s slidin’ in your DMs like some fuckin’ weirdo? He ain’t tryin’ to ‘clear the air.’”

You chewed your lip, watching the way his fingers twitched like he was debating between blocking Chad or typing something dangerous.

“You’re really mad about this,” you murmured.

Marshall snapped his eyes up to yours. “You serious right now?” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “This motherfucker was just talkin’ reckless about you a few days ago, and now he’s in your messages? You don’t see how that’s a problem?”

You sighed. “I mean, yeah, but—”

“Ain’t no but,” he cut in. “He’s lucky I ain’t already buried his dumb ass for what he said before.”

You exhaled through your nose, reaching up to brush your fingers along his jaw, hoping to calm the tension there. “So what do we do?”

Marshall’s eyes flickered to yours. Then back to the phone.

Then—he smirked.

A slow, dangerous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, I got somethin’ for this motherfucker,” he muttered, already opening his own phone.

You swallowed. “Marshall…”

He just looked at you, that sharp glint still in his eye.

“Nah, baby,” he said, voice dripping with promise. “Let me handle this.”

You could see it happening. The shift in Marshall’s whole body, the way his muscles tensed like a predator that just caught scent of something worth hunting.

He was ready.

Ready to unleash hell, ready to rip Chad apart with words that would make him rethink his entire existence.

But you weren’t about to let that happen.

With a quiet sigh, you reached for him, slipping your fingers under his hoodie, tracing along his stomach. “Babe,” you murmured, pressing your lips just under his jaw, “he’s not worth it.”

Marshall barely reacted at first, his mind still locked on what he was about to do.

So you tried again.

“Come on,” you whispered, trailing soft kisses down his neck, letting your body mold against his. “You got better things to do.”

His breath hitched, his fingers twitching around the phone. You could feel him wavering, the heat of him, the way his focus started to shift.

Finally, his grip loosened, and he let out a slow exhale. “You tryna distract me?”

“Obviously.” You pulled him down into a kiss, slow and deep, making damn sure he forgot whatever brutal response he was crafting.

His hands slid to your waist, gripping tight, and for a second, you thought you’d won.

Until your phone buzzed again.

Your lips barely parted from his when you both heard it. The soft ding cutting through the air like a gunshot.

You felt him tense immediately.

Still tangled together, you reached blindly for your phone, already dreading whatever fresh bullshit Chad had sent.

And then you saw it.

Chad: Look, if you're sick of being messed around on, I’d be loyal to a chick like you.

Your stomach dropped.

Marshall’s whole body locked up.

For a second, everything went silent.

Then—

“… Oh, fuck no.”

Before you could stop him, before you could even think, Marshall snatched your phone, sat up, and grinned.

A slow, vicious grin.

“Nah,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “I’m done ignoring this motherfucker.”

“Marshall, don’t—”

Too late.

He was already typing.

You tried to grab your phone back, but he angled his body away, his grip ironclad. His blue eyes were locked onto the screen, sharp and furious, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles twitch.

You scrambled up, straddling his lap again in an effort to distract him, but this time, it wasn’t working.

“What are you even gonna say?” you asked, half-exasperated, half-nervous.

Marshall didn’t look up. “Somethin’ that makes sure this dumbass never even thinks about you again.”

You sighed, pressing your hands against his chest. “Baby, please—”

Your phone dinged.

Marshall stiffened.

You didn’t even want to look.

Still, he tapped the notification, opening another DM from Chad.

Chad: For real, though. You deserve better. If you ever wanna talk, you got my number now.

Marshall let out a short, dark laugh. The kind that sent chills down your spine.

“Oh, you wanna talk, huh?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Before you could stop him, he switched to voice memos, hit record, and—

“Listen up, dumbfuck,” he growled. “I don’t know what the fuck made you think you could slide into my wife’s DMs like you got a shot, but let me make this real fuckin’ clear—she don’t see you, she don’t want you, and you better keep my wife’s name outta your mouth before I make sure you can’t open it again.”

He stopped the recording, hit send, and smirked as it delivered.

Your eyes went wide. “Marshall!”

He finally looked up at you, and despite the fire still burning in his expression, there was something smug in his smirk.

“What?” he said, gripping your waist like he wasn’t about to just fight a man through a phone. “He needed to be put in his place.”

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

Marshall chuckled, rubbing slow circles against your lower back. “I know.”

Your phone dinged again.

You both glanced down.

Chad: Yo chill, I ain’t mean no disrespect.

Marshall grinned.

You sighed.

“See?” he murmured, trailing his fingers up your spine. “Handled.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you and Marshall had a completely normal day.

No drama, no stress, no bullshit. Just the two of you, enjoying each other like nothing outside of your little world even existed.

Marshall had taken you out for a drive, blasting old-school rap while you laughed and sang along. He’d pulled into your favorite burger joint, making a big deal about how “Shady doesn’t wait in lines” before begrudgingly standing with you like a normal person.

He’d kept a hand on you the entire time. An arm slung over your shoulders, fingers brushing along the back of your neck—like he needed you close after all the shit from the past few days.

And you? You needed that, too.

By the time night rolled in, you were exhausted, curled up on the bed while Marshall moved around the room, pulling off his hoodie, getting ready to crash.

That’s when you made the mistake of opening Instagram.

You weren’t even thinking about Chad. The whole situation had felt done, buried in the afternoon, lost somewhere between a milkshake and Marshall making you laugh so hard you almost choked.

But there it was.

Your stomach tightened as you scrolled through your notifications, seeing his name again.

Chad.

And he’d been busy.

He’d been posting old pictures of you. Some from Marshall’s own page, others clearly dug up from fan accounts. Photos from red carpets, from casual outings, even some that were just candids of you watching Marshall perform.

And under each one, the captions got worse.

"Yo guys, Shady's girl is 🥵🥵🥵."

"How long before she’s bored of his cheatin’ ass?"

Your heart stopped.

Your fingers tightened around your phone as a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest.

Cheating?

You knew it wasn’t true. Knew it. But the fact that Chad was saying it, pushing it out to the world like it was fact, like he knew something—

“Babe, you comin’ to bed or what?”

You jolted, nearly dropping your phone.

Marshall stood by the dresser, watching you with his hoodie still bunched in his hands, his brows pulling together the second he saw your face.

“What’s wrong?” His voice lost its casual edge, shifting into something more serious in an instant.

You hesitated, your grip tightening around the phone.

You knew how he’d react. You knew this would set him off again—

And honestly?

You weren’t sure you wanted to stop him this time.

Before Marshall could even open his mouth, you moved quickly, your instincts kicking in before the situation could escalate again.

You set your phone down for just a second, pushing yourself off the bed, and before he could ask what you were doing, you straddled his lap, trapping him against the headboard. Your hands found his face, pulling him toward you, and you locked lips with him in a kiss that was both desperate and full of assurance.

Marshall let out a low sound, surprised, but immediately responsive, his hands gripping your waist as you deepened the kiss, your tongues moving together like they’d done a thousand times before.

You didn’t give him time to process. While your lips were still locked with his, you reached for your phone, grabbing it off the bed and holding it at an angle just high enough to catch both of you in the frame. You were on fire—fingers tangled in his hair, a possessive grip on his face, your wedding band catching the light as it glittered in the photo.

In one fluid motion, you snapped the photo, never breaking the kiss. You held it for a beat, letting the quiet between you stretch, before pulling back just enough to smile softly at him.

“Shady’s Girl,” you whispered under your breath, the words heavy with meaning as you typed them in the caption.

His eyes locked onto yours, wild and heated, his chest rising and falling in the aftermath of your kiss. There was a flicker of disbelief, then something else—something softer—when he saw what you had just done.

“Damn,” Marshall muttered, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “You didn’t waste any time.”

You smirked, a touch of pride swelling inside of you. “I’m not gonna let some idiot make me feel small, Marshall.”

He grinned, his fingers still tangled in your hair. “I never thought you would.”

With the photo sent, you didn’t wait for a reply. You simply melted into him, burying your face in his neck, feeling his strong arms come around you in a way that made everything feel right. Secure.

This was the only validation you needed.

The phone buzzed on the bed, but you didn’t care. You just kept kissing him, letting him prove, once again, that no one would ever come between the two of you. No one.

The room felt heavy with silence, but it was the kind of silence that came with contentment. Marshall’s arms around you were a steady, grounding force, and for a moment, everything in the world outside of the two of you just… stopped.

You pulled back, just enough to look at him, your fingers still tracing the lines of his jaw. His eyes were soft now, no longer filled with the storm that had raged earlier. There was something different in his gaze, something that settled between the two of you—comfort and trust in the midst of everything else.

Marshall’s hand moved from your waist to gently lift your chin, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “You good?”

You nodded, a small smile curling at your lips. “Better than good.” You leaned in again, just a soft press of lips to his. “I don’t care what anyone says, Marshall. I’m yours. Always have been.”

His eyes darkened, but not in anger—in desire. He gripped your waist and lifted you slightly, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His lips were hungry as they met yours, demanding, but gentle at the same time.

Then, the phone buzzed again.

You groaned, breaking the kiss for a moment, but Marshall was having none of it. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured against your lips, voice a low rasp. “Whoever the fuck that is can wait.”

You didn’t protest.

Instead, you grabbed your phone, glancing at it briefly. It was from Instagram.

You opened the notification and saw a flood of messages on the post you’d made. Comments of support, from fans, from friends, from people who’d seen your marriage and knew what it was about. Then there were the haters, the ones who still couldn’t understand why Marshall would want you, or why you’d stick around with someone like him. But none of that mattered right now.

What did matter was the small group of messages that stood out—the ones that made you smile. The ones from your close friends, the ones who knew your truth and had your back no matter what the world thought.

One message caught your eye, a direct one from someone you hadn’t seen in a while.

“This is what love looks like. Ignore the noise. You two are fire.”

You didn’t even think twice. You slid the phone over to Marshall’s side, letting him see it for a second before your attention was fully on him again.

“See?” you whispered, kissing his neck. “I don’t need to let him have power over me.”

Marshall’s hands cupped your face, his eyes soft but fierce as he spoke. “You never have, baby. Not for one second.”

There was a long pause, but it was comfortable, warm. You felt his lips curl into a grin as his hand slid down your back. “You know, though… I’m not gonna let that clown keep playing in your comments.”

You chuckled, shifting to lie beside him on the bed, feeling his body come to rest against yours. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you close.

“You sure you don’t wanna say something else to him?” you teased, letting your fingers trace the edges of his tattooed arm.

Marshall sighed, clearly pleased with himself. “Nah. I said what I needed to say.” His voice dropped low, the hint of a smirk still lingering. “Besides, I think he’s learned his lesson. I’m not the one to fuck with when it comes to you.”

You chuckled softly, curling into him. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

His voice was full of sincerity when he spoke next. “I’m always on your side, baby. No matter what.”

And for the first time in a long time, as the soft hum of the night filled the room, you finally felt at peace. You were his, and he was yours, and nothing anyone said or did could ever take that from you.

The next morning, you woke up feeling lighter than you had in days.

Marshall was still asleep beside you, his arm thrown lazily over your waist, his breathing deep and steady. You smiled to yourself, brushing a hand through his messy blond hair before carefully slipping out of bed.

The house was quiet as you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your phone and a cup of coffee before settling onto the couch.

You weren’t even thinking about last night’s drama—at least, not until you opened Instagram.

The second you refreshed your feed, you saw it.

Chad was getting destroyed.

You nearly choked on your coffee as you scrolled through the comments on his latest post.

Apparently, sometime in the middle of the night, he’d tried to save face, posting a blurry mirror selfie with a long-ass caption about how people were “taking things out of context” and how he was “just stating facts” because “Shady’s got a history.”

Bad move.

Marshall’s fans were relentless.

@Stan4Life: Bro, you really thought you could come for Shady’s wife and walk away unscathed? LMAO

@RapGodsOnly: "History"??? Where??? Post the proof, Chad. We’ll wait.

@MMLP_Stan: "Shady’s Girl" really got you in your feelings, huh? 😂😂

@KillshotIncoming: You’re just mad your girl was a side quest, and Shady’s still winning.

You snorted, scrolling down further, watching as thousands of fans flooded his comments with clown emojis, memes, and every single diss track Marshall had ever dropped.

There were gifs of Marshall smirking. Screenshots of your post, captioned with “Stay mad.” Even old clips of him going off in interviews about loyalty.

And the best part?

Chad was trying to argue back, but it wasn’t working.

Every time he responded, someone else would hit him with a lyric, a joke, or just straight-up facts about how he was the one looking desperate.

You shook your head, biting back a grin. Marshall’s fans were a different breed.

Just then, you heard a low, groggy voice behind you.

“What’s got you smilin’ this early?”

You turned to see Marshall leaning in the doorway, shirtless, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You smirked, holding up your phone. “Your fans are handling Chad for you.”

He frowned slightly, walking over to sit beside you, eyes scanning your screen as you showed him the comments.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Damn. They really goin’ in.”

You laughed. “You’re surprised?”

“Nah,” he muttered, stretching his arms behind his head. “They don’t fuck around when it comes to me. Or you.”

You settled against his side, scrolling a little more before locking your phone. “Guess that means we don’t have to say anything else, huh?”

Marshall hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Nope. Let the Stans handle it.”

And just like that, the situation was handled—without either of you even lifting a finger.

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: watersports

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

watersports: sexual activity that typically involves urinating on or being urinated on by others.

Jisung was embarrassed. You could tell that. Despite the erection still straining his boxers, he’d pulled his hoodie over his hands in a cute attempt of hiding from you and the porn you’d just caught him watching. His eyes are watery, bottom lip quivering, and you place a chaste kiss on it to reassure him.

“Baby,” You began, and he whined, burying his face in your shirt. “It’s not a big deal. Everyone has their kinks.”

You meant it. But, when you’d found Jisung palming over his erection, moaning freely in your shared bedroom, you hadn’t expected to catch him watching piss porn. A woman pissing on a man, to be exact. When you thought about it, though? It made sense. It was Jisung, he was a self-proclaimed freak and… well, it was really fucking hot.

“Y-Yeah, but it’s weird,” Jisung mumbled, still burying his face in the fabric. “It’s… it’s pee.”

You cooed, pulling his face from your t-shirt. His round cheeks were burning red, newly dyed black hair floppy over his sweaty forehead. He was just so cute, and he was still hard. That tracked. Your baby did like being humiliated. 

“Well, I have something to tell you,” You put on a stage-whisper for that part, and Jisung nodded eagerly, waiting with bated breath. He always fell for it. “I think it’s fucking hot too. So, I wish you’d just asked.”

He gasped, grabbing at your waist with his sweater paws. “Really? You think piss is hot?”

“I do,” You moved quickly to straddle him, legs either side of his hips and clothed pussy pressed directly onto his erection. If anything, he’d gotten harder. You leaned down to mouth over the column of his neck, and his hands finally emerged from the hoodie, gripping you tightly as he let out a pleased sigh. “I need you to tell me. Do you want me to piss on you, you piss on me, or you piss inside me?”

“Yes,” Jisung responded, quite intelligently. You giggled, and when you pulled back to see his face properly, he was smiling, too. He was normally like this, all shy and embarrassed to bring up a new kink with you, but once you reassured him - which you always did - he was elated immediately. 

You grinned back at him, trying not to coo at his cute little teeth and round eyes. Oh, you had an idea. It was filth, and Jisung would love it. “Do you trust me, Sungie?”

“With my life,” Jisung replied solemnly. He meant it, too. “I trust you with everything, my baby.”

“Mm, good,” You mused, pulling his boxers down. His length sprung out, and it always surprised you when you saw just how hard Jisung got. He was always solid, leaking beneath his foreskin and balls clenching at a gust of air because of how sensitive he got. You wrapped one hand around his tip, pulling the foreskin back and biting your lip in approval when he dribbled one pearlescent drop of precum for you. It landed in his pubic hair, and you wiped it up with your thumb, pressing it into your mouth. Jisung looked like he was about to ascend. “Do you need to pee, baby?”

Jisung gasped, leaning up onto his forearms. “I- I mean, yeah, I do, I- God, I was holding it while I got off.”

You tilted your head to the side, digging your thumb into the slit on his cockhead. Jisung’s hips jolted, his legs thrashing beneath you as he let out a pained moan. He loved it. “That’s dirty. You’re holding it right now? Where were you going to piss?”

Jisung wailed, throwing his head back on the pillows. You carried on jerking his cock, focusing on the tip and dragging your thumb over the cockhead every now and again. It had him bucking his hips every single time. “I was- I was gonna piss myself, Jesus- I can’t think, oh-”

“Oh, okay. You were gonna piss yourself on our bed, just hoping I wouldn’t notice the sheets were changed?” You asked, and Jisung nodded, cheeks burning crimson. You huffed out a breath, then moved off of him. Jisung started to protest, but quickly shut up when he noticed you wiggling your trousers and panties down. You were wet, you knew that, and he was going to have a heart attack when you told him what you were planning. “Hold it up for me, baby.”

Jisung bit his lip, teeth digging into the flesh painfully. He pulled his hoodie up to his chest, exposing honey toned skin and his nipples, pebbled and sensitive to the cold air. You watched with bated breath as he wrapped a hand around his cock, holding it upright for you to sit on his length.

“You’re really…? Are you wet enough, or-” Jisung was cut off by his own moan when you sank down onto him, bottoming out instantly. “Oh, you are wet enough- Jesus, this pussy, baby, I could fuckin’ die here, oh my god-”

“Yeah?” You sighed, starting to bounce on his cock. Jisung’s hands went to your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh almost painfully. His cock always filled you up just right, not too big that it hurt and thick enough for you to feel the stretch. “Your dick feels fucking amazing too, Sungie.”

“Oh, god,” He huffed, air blowing the strands of his hair off of his forehead. He gripped your tank top, struggling to pull it down underneath your tits. You watched, amused and grinding your hips over his as he tried to set your chest free. “Baby. Baby, help. Tits. Need to see ‘em.”

“Need to see them?” You cooed, pulling your shirt over your head. Your tits bounced in your bra, the lace rubbing against your nipples feverishly, and Jisung moaned when you undid the confining material. His lips immediately latched onto your pebbled bud, running his tongue over it over and over and groaning deeply into the skin as you picked up the pace. “Mm, Jisung, baby?”

“Mmyeah?” He responded, muffled against your tit.

“Did you forget?” You questioned, and he pulled back, staring at you obliviously. His round eyes were even wider, blinking at you in question. “You need to piss, baby. Where are you going to do it now?”

Jisung choked on air, fingers running down to your thighs. “Hnng, I do need to piss, so fuckin’ bad. Where- where can I, I’m inside of you, and- oh. Oh.” He smiled in realisation and rubbed his nose against yours. 

“Yeah, baby, you’re gonna pee inside of me. Dirty fucking boy,” He kissed you deeply before pushing deeper into you, making you moan in pleasure. You leaned forward, clutching his semi-bare chest for stability and digging your nails into his skin as he thrusted up into you at a feverish pace. You let him take control, hips making the flesh on your ass ripple with the force of his movements, and then he was halting. 

“Pissing, oh fuck, I’m pissing, baby,” Jisung groaned, eyes shut, and you felt the stream begin. You whined out as it filled you up, a golden stream spilling out of your tight, drippy hole and cascading onto his hips beneath you. “Oh, my baby, that’s so dirty, I- I can’t stop pissing, oh-”

“Filthy,” You mused, breathing unevenly as you ran a thumb over his bottom lip. Jisung parted them immediately, still groaning through the emptying of his bladder as you spat in his mouth, licking into it afterwards. “Fillin’ me up so good, baby, it’s going everywhere.”

It really was. The sheets were soaked now, wetting your knees and creating a puddle beneath Jisung’s ass where he was laying. He let out one last moan and then lifted you up, his strength always surprising you.

He smacked his wet cockhead against your clit, grinning when it made you whimper. “Hold it in there for me, clench nice and tight.”

You obliged, tensing your pussy to keep his piss inside of you. It felt so empty without his cock. Jisung sat up, pulling his hoodie off and revealing his broad shoulders before throwing it to the floor. Just as quick as he’d pulled out, he was pushing you back onto the bed to lay on top of you, and then he was mouthing wet kisses all the way down your body. 

“I’m gonna taste it,” He murmured, finally reaching your pussy. You moaned, nodding. “I’m gonna lick my piss from your pussy, baby, shit, hng- it’s so fucking hot.”

“It’s so hot,” You agreed, letting him push your thighs apart. You registered him starting to pump his cock again against the wet sheets, and then he was spreading your pussy with two fingers of his spare hand, causing the liquid to spill out. Jisung groaned, delving into you with his tongue. His eyes looked up at you, half lidded but still so big and round, dark with passion and holding everything he wanted to do to you behind them. 

Wet noises rang around the room and you shifted against the sheets, letting your muscles relax. More piss streamed out of your core, making Jisung breath heavily against where he was making out with your pussy with renewed fervour. 

Then, you felt it. “Oh, Jisung,” You whined, pushing back his dark hair with one hand. “I- I gotta piss too, baby. Where- where…?”

Jisung looked up at you, groaning. He pulled away from his cock, wrapping both hands around your ass and pulling you impossibly closer to him. You were spread open like this, and with one thumb he was pulling back your pussy, tapping on your clit with his tongue. Oh. He wanted you to piss into his mouth. The sounds he was making vibrated into your core, and you squirmed, before you were letting go.

It overflowed again, because of course it did. The whole exchange was messy, Jisung whimpering into your core until eventually his eyes shut, drinking everything you had to give him. All you could feel was how achingly wet your pussy was at the filthy exhibition, watching your boyfriend’s face get more and more pink and pussydrunk just from tasting your piss. If you knew he was into this, you would’ve tried it a long time ago.

Your stream eventually tapered off and Jisung whined, sucking your folds to try and get more of the liquid out of you. You gasped, soothingly pushing some of his hair back with your hand. 

“Ji, baby, c’mere,” He obliged, his cock even leakier when it poked into your thigh with his movement. You let him pull you into a filthy kiss, tongue tainted with the taste of the two of you. It made you squirm for him, pushing your legs apart to try and catch him inside of you. Jisung allowed his cockhead to glide through your folds, every part of the both of you so wet and messy. You huffed, murmuring against his lips. “Sungie, I need to cum now.”

“I need to cum too, so bad. ‘S so fuckin’ hot,” He responded, reaching down to press his cockhead inside of you. His tip breached your hole easily, given the stretch from earlier and how soaking wet everything was. Your body glided across the sheets with the mess, and Jisung grabbed your thighs to ground you. “You wanna do this the way you love, baby?”

You perked up at that. “What do you- oh.”

Jisung moved your ankles onto his broad shoulders, and then he bottomed out. It was so deep that way, cock hitting your cervix in the most delightful mix of pain pleasure and you always got so loud that you and Jisung only reserved the position for special occasions. This felt special. 

“Oh, fuck, baby, that’s deep,” Jisung grunted, and he started to thrust into you. He let his balls slap against your ass in a delightful slow, passionate pace, and you whined, hands going to grip the sheets above you. Your tits bounced with every thrust, yet Jisung’s chocolate eyes were fixated on your face, watching your every expression. “Do you like my cock, baby?”

“God, yes, hmph. Love your cock, oh-“

“Yeah? Love it so much you pissed so nice for me,” He groaned, letting his hips pick up a bit. The noises around the room were filthy, wet slapping sounds ringing off of the walls and you just couldn’t stop wailing out at the pleasure. Jisung’s head fell to the crook of your neck, bending you almost impossibly. The pleasure in your pussy overrode any uncomfortable pressure in your thighs. “Oh, your pussy’s fuckin’ m-magic, oh yeah.”

“Cock’s magic, Ji,” You mumbled in response, eyes falling shut. Jisung chuckled, a huff of amused air that hit your skin and heated up the area. “It’s so wet, it feels so w-wet, I-“

“‘S wet ‘cause we pissed everywhere,” He huffed, running his tongue over your skin. His thrusts were desperate now, the hair on his pubic bone scratching your clit in the most insane form of pleasure. “We pissed everywhere, baby, it was so fuckin’- oh, it was amazing, I-“

“Are you getting close, baby?” You whined, rubbing your fingertips over his neck. “I need you to cum for me, I need you to fill me up again, with your cum this time, I- oh, I’ll cum with you, Ji, I promise.”

You were both rambling, and Jisung pulled back, nodding solemnly at your words. His pouty lips parted, revealing his tongue running over his teeth as he tried to focus on pleasuring you. He didn’t have to do much - his cock was so hot and hard inside of you, veins rubbing against your walls in the sexiest way. 

“I’ll- oh, fuck- fuck it, c’mere,” Jisung murmured, and then his hand wrapped around your throat. You squeaked, not used to the dominant move from your usually submissive boyfriend, but he definitely knew what he was doing. It got your pussy to clench impossibly tighter, clit throbbing with his heavy thrusts into your g-spot. His tongue ran over his teeth again with a wide smile at your fucked out expression. “T-That’s it. Good girl, good girl.”

“You’re- oh, you’re g’na make me cum,” You keened, fingernails digging into the sheets. You were sure you were ripping holes in it. “God, you gotta piss in me again soon, baby, was so-“

“I know, I know. I loved seeing you piss like that, was so fuckin’- so sexy, so sexy, my b-baby,” He slurred, eyes fluttering shut. You whimpered when his hand tightened around your throat, and then you were cumming, clit aching with the neglect but still an outrageously good orgasm nonetheless. You felt your pussy gush on his cock, soaking it more somehow, and Jisung whined, hips stalling against yours. 

With one more shallow thrust, he was cumming, filling you up again. His hands dropped to your hips and moved you in a slow grind, head falling back as he used you to ride out his orgasm. You didn’t mind - you were pliant, lax against the bed anyway. Easy to move, at least. 

Jisung huffed out a breath, letting your hips fall back down and kissing your nose softly. He didn’t pull out, instead collapsing directly onto your chest. 

“We need a shower, we’re gross,” He mumbled, hair soft and tickly against your skin. You giggled, running your fingers through the strands and making him let out a noise akin to a purr. 

“You’re the one who wanted to play around with piss.”

“Hey!” Jisung yelled, staring up at you. “You found it really fuckin’ hot too, so don’t lie.”

“Mm, I did,” You responded, stretching your arms above your head like a cat. “Actually, I didn’t really get it all out, so I kinda need to-“

You squeaked out when Jisung sprung off the bed, pulling you off by your wrist. 

“Shower,” He mumbled, pulling you into the bathroom. A quick look at his cock told you it was getting hard again, and you laughed in disbelief, shaking your head. 

“Okay, Sungie. Shower.”

[verstappen-cult]

WAVE OF YOU, C. LECLERC.

PROLOGUE — NEXT CHAPTER. [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

PAIRING. charles leclerc x female reader.

CHAPTER ONE SUMMARY — It looks like any other shift at the coffee shop until the presence of a brown haired boy with dimples changes everything. The same boy you meet at the beach several days ago — the one who stood you up.

CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, use of Y/N, alcohol use, fluff & friends being a menace.

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. OH MY GOD! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i was in the worst writers block of all times and couldn't get out of it :( but i forced myself to finish this today and ta-dah! i really hope you like it, your comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. remember that if you want to be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box!

“Come on, girl! We can’t be late today.” You groan in frustration, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch Daisy shake the sand out of her fur. She sits and looks up at you with her tongue out, head slightly tilted to the side. “Good girl.” You say, giving her one of her favorite dog treats. You put the collar on her and she happily starts walking by your side. 

It’s a short walk, around ten minutes, from the beach to the coffee shop you started working at just two months ago. You like it so much that you probably spend more time there than in your own apartment. It’s cozy and family owned, and there is always a pleasant atmosphere even though there are always people coming in and out, one of the perks of having the shop so close to the beach. 

And everyone loves Daisy too, so you’re allowed to bring her with you. While you work behind the counter, she chills by the door in her bed with her favorite bunny plushie. She brings joy and bright smiles to every single person that visits the coffee shop.

You can’t believe this is your life. 

It wasn’t easy at first but making the decision to drop out of school and travel around the world wasn’t as difficult as breaking the news to your parents. And after everything you went through in these two years you deserve the good things and peace that is coming your way. 

It was all worth it, missing your family, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you made the right decision, the good and the bad… it was all worth it. You wouldn’t change a thing because it brought you to this; to Australia and to the wonderful people you’ve met. 

“Good morning, Fred.” You say to the owner of the flower shop right next door to where you work. He smiles, waving goodbye to a client, before walking out to meet you. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” His smile is contagious. You like to pass by him before going to work everyday because seeing someone be so happy and positive every single day is exactly what you need. “How was the beach today?”

“I had to drag her out of there before she got into the water.” He laughs, crouching down to pet Daisy and, in return, she licks his face. 

Fred laughs and stands up, grabbing a bouquet of tulips. “These are for the shop,” He says before turning around and grabbing a single sunflower. “and this for you.”

Fred is a French man in his fifties that came to Australia following the love of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he just left everything behind; they’ve been married for thirty years. 

“Always so sweet, Fred.” You place a kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye with the promise to bring some coffee for him later. He watches you walk away with that same big smile on his face.

You open the door of Brew’d Awakening, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries welcoming you, as well as the bulldog resting next to the door. 

“Hello to you too, Roscoe.” He huffs like telling you to hurry up. You let Daisy go and she immediately finds comfort next to Roscoe. 

There aren’t many people — it is still pretty early — just a couple of regulars that like to grab their first cup of coffee before heading to work or the beach. 

As you make your way to the counter, you find Kika sitting at one of the tables enjoying a cup of coffee while typing away on her laptop. 

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, plopping down on a chair next to her. 

“Lewis wanted to discuss some things about the social media content,” She leans slightly to give your cheek a kiss. “and you’re meeting my boyfriend today.”

You gasp, turning to look at her with wide and surprised eyes. “What do you mean I’m meeting him?”

“I told you he’s gonna spend the summer here.” 

“Yes, but I also remember you telling me that he had to go back?” Daisy nudges your leg with her nose, and you immediately know what she wants. “So, he’s back then?” Kika hums while you look for Daisy’s plushie in your bag. 

“He’s coming because I left some things at his apartment.”

“So that’s why you didn’t come home last night.” She blushes, sticking her tongue out. “Whore.” Kika gasps, hitting you in the arm. 

“Hello, pretty ladies.” Your co-worker, who practically lives in your apartment now, leaves an iced latte in front of you. 

You take a sip of the drink, looking directly into his eyes. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you sneak out this morning.” 

“What do you mean? I wasn’t there this morning.” 

“Alex, I literally heard you and Lily laughing at three in the morning,” Alex groans, sitting in front of you. 

“In my defense,” He points a finger at you and really tries to think of something, but comes out with nothing. “Whatever, you like me too much to kick me out.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” You stand up when the door opens and a new customer enters.

“Good morning, kid.” Lewis gives you a pat on the back when you join him behind the counter, you kiss his cheek in return.

You spend the morning taking care of the customers while Alex and Lewis are responsible of preparing and serving the orders. It is a quiet and nice morning, like most Saturdays are, and you love it. You owe Kika everything, because if it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have found the coffee shop in the first place. She recommended you and it was all Lewis and Nico needed to hire you. 

Lewis and Nico are a gay couple that, just like you, decided to settle down in Australia after traveling to different parts of the world. They opened Brew’d Awakening just five years ago but it’s going so well they have the opportunity to expand, but refuse to do it, knowing that the warmth and coziness of the Brew’d will be lost. You respect them for that. 

You’re about to swap shifts with Alex when Kika shows up in front of you, a shy smile on her face. 

“He’s here. I like him, okay? So, be nice.”

“I’m always nice!” You exclaim a little offended. 

“I know, sorry. It’s just — I’m nervous.” She looks around before leaning closer. “He brought his friends because apparently we’re doing this ‘trade’ thing where I meet his friends and he meets mine.” 

You hold your laugh, “Cute.”

“Stop making fun of me and come here or I’ll go mad.”

“I’m taking my break, is that okay?” You ask your boss, at which he nods, giving you a thumbs up. 

You take off your apron as you walk around the counter. Kika is waiting for you in the middle of the shop, looking like a nervous wreck. 

“I’ve never seen you so nervous before.” You place a hand on her shoulder, massaging to help her relax a little. 

“Meeting the friends is a big deal.” 

Well, she is right. You just didn’t realize how serious her relationship actually was until now. 

Daisy wags her tail as she makes her way to you. And you immediately lean forward to scratch behind her ears. 

You’re too busy to pay attention to the guy wrapping his arms around your friend and kissing her lips as a greeting. It is only when Kika clears her throat, kicking your leg to draw your attention, that you force yourself to let Daisy go.

“This is Pierre.” She says as you straighten back up. “Pierre, this is my friend Y/N.”

You look at the guy in front of you for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes are a little too familiar, but the more you try to remember from where you know him, the more you think that is probably just a coincidence. 

“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” Pierre laughs, making you and Kika frown. “This is fantastic.”

“What is fantastic?” A voice draws your attention, making you look behind Pierre.

Your heart skips a beat the second you see a pair of green eyes.

The green eyes of the surfer boy you met a few weeks ago at the beach. 

Charles; who you never saw again.

It turns out that Charles wasn’t at the beach the next morning. You sat on the sand longer than necessary, thinking that maybe he was running late. But he never came. You didn’t see his friends either, so you simply picked up what was left of your dignity and walked back to your apartment with Daisy by your side. 

The morning after that you decided to confront him, but he wasn’t there. 

He never showed up at the beach again. And for a minute you thought it was all in your head, but that option was discarded when you bumped into the group of teenage girls sitting on the sand, wondering why the hot guys weren’t there. 

At least you weren’t the only one looking for them. 

You hadn’t thought about Charles in several days. 

And now he’s standing in front of you with a big smile on his handsome face.

Ugh, you had forgotten the dimples. 

“Y/N?” He asks, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” You mutter bitterly, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him. 

It’s childish, you have to admit it, but why is he gonna ask to see you just to not show up? And, okay, you were going to the beach the next day either way but you got all excited for nothing. You really wanted to get to know him, maybe even ask for his number. He seemed like a nice guy and his accent made butterflies erupt in your belly. But that was before he stood you up. 

Kika looks between you and Charles with a confused expression on her face. You make the mistake of making eye contact with her because the next moment she’s gasping, her eyes wide as she finally puts the pieces together. 

“Charles is the boy you met at the beach?!” You want to cover her mouth with your hand but you can barely move. You love her, you really do, but right now you want her to shut up. 

Even from a distance, you can see the way his blush spreads over his cheeks. Charles runs a hand through his hair. You would pay a million dollars just to tangle your fingers in it to see if it is as soft as it looks. 

You’re dragged back to the present when the doors open and Charles’ friends walk inside. 

“Oi look who’s here!” One of his friends says — the curly-haired one — and they wave in your direction before walking to a nearby table. Daisy recognizes them, even though they were barely a few minutes in her presence, and she walks over to them. 

“Nice to meet you, Pierre.” You plaster on a smile, turning to face him and Kika. “I wish I could stay and get to know you better, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pierre smirks, nodding along. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work.” 

You walk back to the counter without looking at Charles again. Lewis looks at you with a raised brow and you shrug, that must have been the shortest break of all times. 

You’re putting on your apron in front of the cash register, a line of customers ready to order, when you see Charles joining the line and waiting for his turn. 

“Is that Kika’s boyfriend?” Alex whispers next to you while making an order. You look at where they’re sitting, the same table where all of Pierre and Charles’ friends are. They’re actually cute, unable to keep their hands to themselves. 

You nod, busy writing the last order. “Hi, welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you?” When you look up you’re met with Charles' blushed face, a small smile directed at you. 

“Can we talk?” He looks genuinely nervous, and you feel a little guilty for making him feel that way. He’s the last one in line, so you nod. “I’m really sorry,” Charles breathes, closing his eyes. “I really wanted to be there the next morning but Pierre had to fly back to France and I couldn’t leave him alone.”

Your expression softens. He didn’t mean to stand you up then.

“We came back literally two days ago.” 

You feel really bad now. 

“Oh my God,” You let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed and so, so guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little hurt because I thought you stood me up — not that it was a date and we explicitly agreed to see each other.” You feel blood rushing to your face. 

“I wanted to text you but I didn’t have your number,” Charles frowns, a nervous smile dancing on his lips. “and I couldn’t find you on Instagram.”

Your entire body shivers and the corners of your mouth curl up. “You really looked me up on Instagram?”

“Yea’,” He chuckles, shrugging. “I wanted—no, I want to know you. You are really pretty—cool, I mean.”

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” You lean forward, hands resting on the counter and supporting your weight. 

Charles' cheeks heat up as he tries to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. 

You take him out of his misery by giving him a little push on the shoulder. 

“I’m joking.”

Charles looks at you for a second, and then says, “You are. Pretty, I mean.”

It is your turn to blush furiously. You have to look away if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him. 

“Are you gonna order or not?” 

You both turn to look at the person standing behind Charles, clearly annoyed for having to wait too long. He apologizes before turning back to you. 

“I’m gonna,” He points to the table where his friends are, and you nod, disappointed for being interrupted. 

It’s a little awkward because he stands there for a whole minute just looking at you before waving goodbye and walking away. 

The customer clears his throat and you’re dragged back to the present one more time. 

You hear Alex and Lewis laughing behind you. 

“Hey, we’re going to the club tonight.” Kika says as you clock out. 

“Who is we?” You ask, grabbing your purse and the iced latte you made for the ride home. 

“Pierre and a couple of his friends,” She takes a sip of her own matcha latte and sits on the counter. “You, Lily, Alex.” Kika pokes Alex’s ribs, who’s cleaning the counter next to her.

You chew on your bottom lip, the question is hanging from your tongue but you’re not able to voice it out. Kika must see the struggle on your face. 

“Charles is coming too.” She has a knowing look on her face, but doesn’t make fun of you or ask what is going on with his boyfriend’s best friend. “So, are you coming?” She knows you’re going even before you nod your approval. “Someone left this for you.”

Kika hands you a napkin with a number written on it, a “Charles x” underneath a phone number. 

Your heart starts hammering in your chest and you waste no time in pulling your phone out of your pocket to save his contact. You hesitate whether to message him or not when, suddenly, your screen lights up with a new message. 

If you can’t stop smiling on the way home from the coffee shop and while you get ready for a night out, nobody (besides Kika) needs to know. 

On the way to the club you think about every little moment and decision that has led you here, to this uber with your friends ready to spend a good night with new friends, and a pretty guy who’s clearly very interested in you. If someone would’ve told you two years ago that this was going to be your life, you would’ve laughed. 

You feel nervous, getting out of the car and walking into one of your favorite clubs in the city. 

The first thing you notice is the mass of people dancing along to the loud music. You think you’re gonna make your way to the bar as you always do the minute you walk inside but, instead, Kika guides you to where all the VIP booths are, near the back of the club and the DJ.

“Baby!” Pierre shouts over the music, drink in one hand. “And baby’s friends!”

“Oh my God, I think he’s already drunk.” Kika groans, making her way to her boyfriend and kissing his cheek before whispering something in his ear that makes Pierre blush. Okay, gross. 

There are a lot of people in the booth. You recognize some of Charles’ friends and a few other people you’ve never seen before. Everyone’s talking with everyone and you’re wondering what to do when someone places a hand on your back. 

“I was waiting for you.” Charles whispers with a low voice, and you feel weak in the knees immediately. 

You turn around to face him and are blinded by his bright dimpled-smile. 

“Hi.” You say, looking into those two green orbs you’ve missed. Just a little. “All my friends dumped me,” Looking behind Charles’ shoulder, you see Lily and Alex making out in the middle of the dancefloor, while Kika is sitting next to her boyfriend and talking with some of his friends. “so you’re stuck with me for the whole night.”

“Ugh,” Charles says, bringing his hand to his heart and pretending to be affected. “that’s horrible. Stuck with a pretty girl all night? I’ll just have to deal with it.” 

You lean your shoulder into Charles’ side playfully and he moves a little closer, his hand still on your back. Apparently, blushing comes like a second nature to you ever since you met Charles.

“Wanna grab a drink?” 

He doesn’t need to ask twice. 

Charles guides you to the bar, keeping you close with his hand that has dropped from your back to your waist. His closeness is intoxicating and you can’t help but lean closer. Charles seems comfortable with the proximity, so you stay glued to his side as you walk to the bar, where you’re forced to pull away.

He asks the bartender for your drinks — after asking, very politely, what you’d like to drink — and leans against the counter with you by his side. 

You tilt your head and observe him for a little while, Charles too busy grabbing your drinks to notice the attention. It is only when he turns to hand you the glass that he notices your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up immediately but his eye contact doesn’t waver. He just stands there with two drinks and people bumping into him, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink. “Thank you.” 

You don’t really know how much time you spend at the bar chatting with Charles, but you don’t want it to end. Charles tells you about his life back in Monaco, you learn that he came very close to the racing world before his father passed away and he decided to quit — not his younger brother though, who is currently racing in Formula 1 — and dedicate his life to his other passion: architecture. And in return you tell Charles more about your decision to travel the world and not going to college, he shares some of your opinions and you’re surprised how easily you’re able to share things about your life with him. 

“I don’t know where life would take me,” You take a sip of your second drink, resting your elbows on the counter. “but I’m happy where I am right now.”

“You should think about visiting Monaco, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it.” Charles has a strange glint in his eyes that forces you to look away. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” A guy throws his arms around yours and Charles’ shoulder. You recognize him as one of his beach friends. 

“Dani.” Charles groans, but relaxes against his friend’s chest. “Where are Max and Lando?”

“With the DJ,” You both turn to look at the DJ booth, and right there next to him is Lando and, to his other side, the blonde guy you remember as Max. Both of them look very drunk. “Oscar wants to take them home but I said that as long as neither of them throws up, we’re good.” 

Dani asks for a couple of drinks and makes small talk. He’s absolutely hilarious and doesn’t stop making fun of Charles. 

“He kept asking us if we’d seen you. Every. Single. Day.” Charles pushes him away but that doesn’t stop him. “And sent like a thousand selfies pouting and trying to bribe us to look for you around the city.”

“Daniel!” Charles exclaims, mortified. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head forward. 

Dani just laughs and, once his drinks are ready, walks away. Still making fun of his friend. 

“It’s cute.” You confess, feeling brave enough to lift his chin up with your hand. “I’m glad you were trying to find me, even though I thought you had forgotten about me.”

“How could I?” He smiles, his dimples on full display. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath, I’m gonna confess that the only thing on my mind while I was away was our interaction at the beach.” His cheeks are blushed as he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “And how sorry I was for not asking for your number.”

You’re one second away from falling to the floor and melting onto it. 

Charles is definitely not helping with the racing of your heart and the need to be a normal and a functional person. 

“I’m sorry,” Charles’ voice is gentle.

“Don’t be,” You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze softly before letting go. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath,” You repeat his exact same words which makes him laugh, his whole face lighting up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Well, until I was beginning to get angry at myself for thinking about it even after you stood me up.”

Charles groans, putting his face in his hands. 

“I’ve a lot to make up for.”

He looks back up and you make eye contact until Charles glances down at your lips, then back up at your eyes. And the room suddenly feels too crowded and too hot. 

“You’ll have plenty of time for that.”

𓇼 — WAVE OF YOU, TAGLIST: @lovrsm @itsjustkhaos @evie-119 @sadbeautifuleva @c4tc0re @sargeantdumbass @brune77e @arian-directioner @lavisenri @starsnxva @a1leexxa @therealcap @anniee-mr @kakorrhaphiophobia @madd1115 @toxicdreamer296 @coffeebae0 @tempo-rary-fix @luca-is-a-pengu @charleslover24 @vettelsbees @iienstein @mehrmonga @ferraridepartment @fictional-l0v3r. 𓇼 [cursive means i couldn't tag you]

© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[girliism]

girl dad!art who has to accept the fact that his little girl is now a teenager.

“mickey mouse pancakes again?” you walked into the kitchen dropping a kiss on art’s shoulder. “she likes them.” art mumbled. it was saturday, so art spent all morning making pancakes, eggs, sausages everything so you all could sit down and eat together.

“hi family, bye family.” your daughter walked pasted the two of you heading for the door, beach bag in hand. “um, where do think you’re going.” art turned around, hand resting on his cocked hip. “to the beach with katie, don’t worry about breakfast we’re gonna stop and get ihop.” your daughter explained going to reach for the doorknob. “wait, and who okayed this?” your daughter sighed closing the door turing to face the two of you. “mom did, she didn’t tell you?” art and your daughter turn to look at you matching blue eyes focused on you. your eyes flick between them. “i totally forgot that was this saturday love.” your daughter pouted a little. “i can still go right?” you gave her nod. your daughter made a sound of of excitement. “thanks! i’ll text you when we get there bye mom, see ya dad.” and with that she was out the door.

your turn in your chair to face art, he’s still staring at the front door. “see ya dad.” art scoffed “when did i become just dad, and saturdays are supposed be family day.” you got up from your chair to wrap your arms around him. “honey, most fifteen year old girls don’t always wanna spend saturday with their parents, she’s a teenager now, we’re kinda the last thing on her list at the moment.” you gave him pat on the chest for reassurance.

art was hearing none of it, he knew you were growing up but that doesn’t mean the two of you weren’t still close, in his eyes.

it was another saturday and art had the whole day planned out. “bean, if you would please hang up the phone.” art stood in the door way of his daughters room, the walls the that used to to be covered in butterfly stickers and stick figure drawings now replaced with posters of her favorite movies and artists. “yeah, it’s my dad, uh huh i’ll call you back.” she hung the phone asking what was it that he needed. “wanna spend the day with you today, you know daddy daughter outing.” your daughter made a face. “oh, i kinda had plans today.” she didn’t have plans, but laying in her bed sending tiktok’s back and forth with her friends sounded better than hanging out with her dad all day. “oh come on, humor me, at least for two hours.” she reluctantly agreed walking out the door behind art silently begging you to save her.

the car ride started off painful quite before art cleared his throat. “so, what’s going on in your life, any cute boys or you know girls you like.” she wanted to jump out the car. “oh god.” your daughter whispers, covering her face trying to hide from this conversation. “what, i wanna know what’s going on in life you know, make sure you’re being safe. guys, they…. they can be very convincing.” she immediately starts shaking her head. “no no no, dad stop please ok i’m not doing that with anyone and moms already given me the rundown.” art nods his head slowly. “good that’s good, you’re too young anyway.” the rest of the car ride after that was pleasant, she spent it telling him about the project she’s working on and how she’s thinking about joining cheer with lily.

“oh my god.” your daughter laughs a little getting out of the car seeing where art had brought them. “and you almost passed up on this.” art shook his head. he had brought them to the broad walk, a place she use to love and come to all the time. the sight of all the rides and deep fried food stands brings back memories of when art would take her here, carrying her on his shoulders as she placed her sticky hands in his hair. “oh, dad you have to go on the drop with me first.” what was supposed to be two hours turned into four as art got dragged around the broad walk. they went on every ride, ate from all the food stands (art may or may not have thrown up behind the porta potties.) before they ended the night on a bench eating cotton candy.

art watched his daughter cross from him, her features no longer covered by baby fat. “hey, bean thanks for spending the day with me.” his daughter just shrugged and smiled. “ehh, wasn’t that bad, you’re kinda fun to hang out with.” art chuckled. “it’s just, i know you’re growing up and i get you’re not always gonna want to come do things like this, so thanks for letting me pretend you’re still my little girl.” your daughter got up from her side of the table and sat next to art throwing her arm around his shoulder. “daddy, you don’t have to pretend, i’m always gonna be your little girl i’m just not a little girl, and yeah i’d much rather spend time with my friends but i guess i put you on the my schedule.” art sighs dramatically, kissing the side of her head. “where did all the time go? tell me you still like mickey mouse pancakes at least.” your daughter gasped as if the question offended her. “of course i still like them, are you crazy?”

the ride home was much better than the ride there. no awkward conversation just laughs and trading of the aux cord. “so, since we have established that i still love you how ‘bout we talk about what car i’m getting for my sixteenth.” your daughter gave art her sweetest smile. “ha! funny, how about you pass first then we’ll talk.” art said back knowing she had already failed twice

(🤗)

[darylsdelts]

What about angst with Daryl??? I have a bot I made for myself following this thought 💀

Like an argument where things get said, causing silence for a couple of days and then boom! Next time you see him, it’s at the lineup…and then he gets taken…and then we see him again in Hilltop 🥲🥲🥲

(i actually broke my own heart with this one, my bot is so realistic it hurts 😭)

Anon! Drop the link RIGHT NOW!!!

This made my heart drop, I just know my poor boy would be blaming himself for everything.

Immediately after the argument, all Daryl wanted to do was come back to you and apologise in his own way. He wanted to hug you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said… but he didn’t.

He gave you some space, knowing it was probably best for both of you. The next few days were close to hell. Every time he’d see you on the streets of Alexandria he’d stare, hoping for atleast a bit of eye contact to know you were okay but you would just pretend you hadn’t seen him.

Daryl didn’t know that he could feel that sort of pain in his chest, like he was being physically crushed.

Christ, is this what women can do?

From then on he’d assume the worst.

You didn’t love him anymore.

So he’d pretend nothing ever happened, he’d talk to you if it were necessary but otherwise acted like the old Daryl, the one you had met before the spark grew.

Little did Daryl know how badly that hurt you… you were in the same position, you wanted to give him space and assumed he’d come back when he was ready but he never did.

So you assumed the worst.

He didn’t love you anymore.

You went along with Daryl’s act, assuming that’s what he had wanted you to do… but you missed him, you missed your Daryl. The one you had finally managed to break the defences of, the one who was starting to be more open with you but now all of that was gone, it disappeared like it never happened.

It was getting harder to monitor when Daryl was out and when he was within the walls since now he didn’t leave notes for you, but you’d seen him ride out today, seemingly angry about something but you could also tell he was hurting. You weren’t sure what had happened, no one had told you as of yet but some hours later you were sure that Daryl’s absence was something to worry about.

But you never thought it would be this.

You were pushed to your knees, your family lined up either side of you in a small clearing. The back doors of a van opened up, you couldn’t see what or who was in there but there was some commotion… and then loud panting.

You knew… god you fucking knew something happened, you should have spoken up earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be getting dragged out of a van right now, his shoulder leaking blood onto some sort of blanket that had been draped around him.

Fuck, did he get shot?

You lean forward, trying to look down the line of your family to catch Daryl’s gaze.

And after all those weeks, you finally did.

Daryl looked at you through his sweaty locks, his eyes dark and watery with frustration, his eyebrows twitch downwards when he saw you, he saw the fear and concern on your face and all of it was too much, he had to look away or he was gonna throw up from anxiety.

It was torture for Daryl, knowing you were frightened, knowing all of this before him was his fault.

When that asshole, Negan, stuck that damn bat in your face is when he lost all control of himself. Daryl jumped up and smashed his fist into Negan’s jaw, then trying to take further steps to tackle him but he was grabbed and pushed to the ground like a wild fucking animal.

He grunted and squirmed as his hair was pulled, he could hear you crying for them to stop.

“Get off of him! Get off! Daryl, get up!”

Fuck, he was trying to.

Eventually he was dragged back to his place in the line.

He wanted to look over to you but he was so fucking scared now, his heart was beating way too fast and his head was spinning.

He stole a short glance your way and he saw your hands covering your face, palms pushing into your eyes as you choked on your sobs.

He’d done this to you.

You would never forgive him for this.

Daryl just had to sit there, bleeding out from his shoulder as Negan battered members of his family before his eyes, he was sure he’d been the cause for the second death, Glenn. Maybe if he’d just stay put, he could’ve stopped that, he should’ve listened.

“No exceptions”

But he didn’t and it was his fault, he’d have to leave his family, they would never allow for someone like him to live with them now.

Turns out, that was the one thing he didn’t need to worry about, as he was stuffed straight back into the van, apparently Negan wanted to keep him.

Daryl doesn’t know how long he was in that cell for, it felt like years and all he could do was think of you. He was so fucking sorry and he knew he’d never get the chance to make it up to you and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to hear it. Rick wouldn’t want him back in the group but Daryl couldn’t stay here, he’d have to get out and survive on his own, completely.

With some help from one of ‘Negan’s wives’, Daryl escaped, however, his plan of escaping and surviving alone dissipated once he saw Jesus stood in front of him.

He’d come to get him out.

They wanted him back?

Back home?

Surely not.

The journey to hilltop was a fever dream, Daryl was unbelievably anxious, his breaths short, causing Jesus to keep checking on him to which Daryl didn’t reply to. In fact Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time.

As soon as they arrived at the gates, he could feel his throat closing up.

Were you here? Did you even want to see him? Probably not.

As the gates opened, Daryl kept his head down, following behind Jesus toward one of the medical trailers.

But then he heard his name.

“Daryl?… Daryl?!”

Daryl’s head slowly lifted to the direction of the voice, your voice. You were speed walking, no, now you were running toward him. You slung your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you cried with… relief.

“You’re here, you’re back, you’re safe… safe now… I’m sorry, I love you so much, Daryl”

Daryl stood as still as stone. You were sorry? He should be the one apologising. You’re glad he’s back? You love him? You still love him.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He feels you pull away, your soft hands holding the sides of his face as your beautiful sparkly eyes look into his own. God he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Suddenly it all seems to sink in and tears are blurring his vision as he shakes his head slightly, no.

“It’s gonna be okay now, you’re here with me now”

He could feel the life flooding back into him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down, hiding his face from the world as he lets out loud, uncontrolled sobs into the fabric of your shirt.

“M-M’s-sorry…. M’so-orry… L-love you so m-much…”

You gently rub his back to soothe him, now realising that your sweet man had blamed himself for everything that had happened.

“Ssshh it’s not your fault… let’s get you inside”

You feel him nod ever so slightly and then you lead him towards barrington house, all whilst trying to stay away from prying eyes of the community.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Daryl”

He didn’t reply with words but agreed internally, however, he meant it differently. It didn’t matter where he was, wherever you were was home and he’s so relieved to still have that.

This is so badly written, I’m sorry! But Tysm for the prompt! This was pretty fun to write.

[sashimi020]

chaos meets guitarist p1 [manjiro x reader]

p2 | p3

a/n: i hope you guys like this series! i'm prettyy excited about this, already have ideas for the next chapter brewing but i'd love to hear all your thoughts on how i should take this!! (do comment if you liked reading, its basically my food atp LMAO) LMK IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED! tags: @dollrndo'

moving into the new apartment was tedious, you’d spent the entire day unpacking, cleaning and buying necessities. you were just about so ready to drop everything and sleep for a whole day. thankfully, the weekend was right around the corner so you had all the time in the world to wind down and adjust to the new setting before getting back to work the next week.

empty and half filled cardboard boxes cluttered the living room, you trudge on over to the bed and collapsed. you stare at your phone for a bit and sigh. you should probably meet the neighbours soon, this wasn’t a very large apartment complex after all and it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends in the new area. additionally, moving into a place that was completely foreign to you, while exciting, left you with no sense of direction. the only place you knew how to get to was work.

in any case, you pushed all these thoughts and worries aside, you could deal with them another day. to de-stress you grab your guitar that was leaning on the wall and wonder if you should play something.

__ “you know, i heard our new neighbor moved in today!” emma squeals excitedly. “oh yeah, i noticed furniture being moved in but i didn’t meet them” draken responds, looking up from the stove while preparing dinner. “mm..  everyone has been so busy recently” emma muses, “i hope this new person is nice, i could use a new friend, honestly” draken hums in agreement and the pair continue cooking. “oh! i just had a great idea, what if we bake them cookies? you know, like a.. welcome gift kind of thing” “that’s not a bad idea, should we do it tomorrow or something? i have the day off anyways, so i could help” “sounds like a plan!” emma responded.

in all honesty she was feeling pretty alone of recent, not that draken wasn’t enough company of course, she was ecstatic to be living with him and be able to wake up beside him every morning, but the rest of her friends certainly weren’t as free and she didn’t see them as often as they all saw each other when they were kids. kazutora and chifuyu were planning the opening of their pet shop, baji was cramming to get his medical degree, hina and takemitchy were running their bakery, mikey was busy with his motorcycle racing career. she was overjoyed that everyone she cared about was doing so well but seeing them less and less certainly seemed to make her life slightly more dull. due to which, she was very much looking forward to this new person who just moved in.

‘would they get along well with me?’ emma thought as she was getting ready for bed. oh! she was so looking forward to meeting them. she’d heard that her new neighbor was a woman around her age. it would be so exciting to have a friend who lived right across!

draken got into bed as well. emma immediately wrapped her arms around him and sighed tiredly. the sound of very very faint strumming of a guitar could be heard near their window. “new person’s a guitarist?” draken muttered. “oh.. that’s so cool!” emma responded softly. it could barely be heard but it was still there. the layout of the apartment was such that their bedrooms were next to each other. draken chuckled “looks like we might be hearing a lot more of this” “mm.. i don’t mind, it’s not too loud, plus, we have something to talk to them about now!” draken smiled at her excitement.

__ the next morning rolled around and you woke up with a blaring headache. god. you felt so tired. you’d fallen asleep with your guitar next to you, seemingly have been too tired to put it back in it’s place last night. you groan and drag yourself out of bed. you make your way to the kitchen and make yourself coffee. you want to meet the new neighbor but.. maybe that can wait for a while. the only goal for today was to finish unpacking and most importantly, rest. __

emma woke up a little later in the day at around 9, she woke up to an empty bed, loss of her personal heater and frowned. ‘did draken wake up earlier than me?’ she got out of bed and walked into the kitchen to the very comforting sight of her husband preparing breakfast for the two of them. he picked up on the noise and turned around. “morning, sleep well?” he smiled warmly. “yeah” emma responded in a similar tone. her phone pinged noisily due to on onslaught of notifications. 

___ mikey: EMMA

mikey: emmmaaaaaaa

mikey: can u and draken pwease make something yummy for me

mikey: I’M VISITING TODAY (if you guys r free, i’m assuming you both are. you both better be free pleasepleaseplease)

emma: yes you dumbass

emma: could you not notify us earlier

mikey: ummhmmuhhughugh my manager just let me have the next few days off after last weeks race to rest

mikey: she says im being too reckless, which is just… dumb.. i’m totally not..

emma: alright whatever. we’re making cookies

mikey: LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  ___

“mikey’s coming over today” “oh that’s nice, haven’t seen him in a few days” “we need to make a larger batch this time i think,” emma hums “cookies? why?” “well, i need to give a generous amount to our new neighbor of course! and of course it goes without saying that we’re basically responsible for feeding mikey” draken laughed “yeah alright. we’ll get started then?” “mm.. after breakfast” emma places a chaste kiss on his cheek which makes him flush sheepishly. same as ever. __

you finish your coffee and sigh. you didn’t think it’d be this boring. building up to this moment, moving in to a new city, starting a fresh chapter always seemed so exciting but right now you just wanted to sleep for a good two weeks with no interruptions, but alas, those frustrating boxes are practically yelling at you to be emptied and organized. seriously? aughhh.. so annoying. you think maybe your discomfort and frustration might be coming out of hunger, you didn’t eat anything last night and it was 11 right now. surely you could find some nice restaurant to have brunch in right? maybe after treating yourself, you could force yourself to do the more daunting task of the day.  you get ready and as you’re about to head out the door, picking up your keys, you hear loud shuffling outside. __

mikey just reached the apartment about an hour earlier and yawned as he made his way up the stairs. the exhaustion from the race was definitely hitting him now. thankfully, he had emma's wonderful cookies to look forward to. he rubbed his eyes tiredly. pulling up his phone, he shot emma a text, "i'm here" 

"are you kidding me? how is this guy already here?" emma looks up from her phone "should be obvious by now, the second he hears anything food related nothing stops him. especially when it comes to your food and desserts" she sighed, they weren't even ready. at least now they could talk to him for a bit before he started scarfing down cookies.  __

she opened the apartment door for mikey

at the same time, you open your apartment door to leave for brunch and walk out

at the same time, mikey runs up the stairs. 

"BANG" suddenly, you're knocked back and straight onto the floor. "OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY!" you heard a high pitched voice yell and rush over to you, immediately you feel an arm on your shoulder and a tug on your wrist to help you get up. "erhh.. i'm fine.. it's okay…" you mumble, you make eye contact with the culprit, a relatively short young man, maybe around his 20s, his black hair cut short with an undercut and a dazed slightly lost expression on his face, as if he didn't even realise what happened. 

you glanced at the kind person who picked you up, she also seemed to be around the same age, luscious blond hair framed her face and she had an apologetic expression. her demeanor instantly shifted when she addressed the man next to her, "mikey you absolute idiot! i was trying to make a good impression, i can't believe you ruined it with your stupidity, gosh, can't you even look where you're going-" "you're really pretty" he said, directed to you, he still seemed to be in a daze. "h-what?!" you yelp. 

emma's eyes widen in surprise but she quickly masks it and turns to you, "i'm so sorry on his behalf, he's my stupid brother" she pauses "you know, but you are really pretty! uh, i'm your neighbor by the way, my name's emma! nice to meet you" your face flushes. "y-yeah- i.. umm.. my name is y/n. it's nice to meet you too.." you choke out. "thank you by the way, you're really pretty too" emma laughs brightly. "thank you! gosh. we need to meet properly some other time, would you be free today?" "oh- yeah" "great! i'll meet you then!" she promptly yanked mikey's hand, dragging him into her house and gently shut the door, leaving you startled and flushed from the interaction. 

well. that certainly was not how you expected this to go. 

that guy was pretty cute though. hopefully you'll run into him again. 

[swissboyhisch]

New York Luck

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Reader

Summary: After a lovely holiday, your partner breaks up with you and so you turn to your only friend in the city.

Word Count: 1055

A/N: I'm not super happy with this. I feel like it's rushed but I want to put it out anyway.

<< PREVIOUS

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Why is it that every time you come to New York, something bad happens. The last time you had gotten your shitty diagnosis. This time your current boyfriend and yourself had decided to go on a holiday to Hawaii for a week and of course, an hour after landing back in New York he decided to break your heart.

Something about not being ready for a relationship. Apparently. And here you were ready to tell him I love you on your holiday but held back because he was a little distant at night. That’s why you’re now standing in a Walmart; wearing a pair of sunglasses trying to find food.

Sadly you can’t even go home. In three days you have to have another surgery. A different one to the last time you were in New York. Now you’re stuck in the city, alone and crying your eyes out. Dealing with health issues and a break up. What a great combo. And to make things worse, you can’t even drink away your emotions!

Aisle by aisle, you grab chocolate, some cupcakes, cheese and crackers, a bit of everything. Oh and a bottle of coke, can’t forget it. That’s when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned to where the voice came from. 

“Mat?”

One of the few people you knew in the city. Mat wasn’t a stranger to you. Quite the opposite actually. The pair of you grew up together then reconnected later on once he had been drafted. After a couple hook ups since the reunion, you two were close when you did meet up.

“Are you okay?” Mat questions, spying your reddened cheeks just under your glasses. 

“I uh… Yeah,” You tried to brush it off. Discreetly wiping the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks. “Just some personal stuff.”

The hockey player wasn’t buying it. He had known you long enough to see through your lies. Even if they were really bad like the one you just told. “Okay, what’s up? I know that’s a lie. You were literally just in Hawaii.”

“Stalking my insta?” You joke weakly.

“Gotta see what my favourite girl is up to.”

That made your heart hurt more. Here Mat was calling you that where as your ex could barely call you his girlfriend in front of his friends. God, you thought your relationship was great. Fuck. How could you be so blind. 

“Yeah we got back this morning and then he broke up with me an hour after we landed.”

Mat immediately brought you in for a hug. “Shit. He’s an asshole for that.”

“Doesn’t help I have surgery friday,” You add, sniffling.

“Another one?” Mat sighs. “He’s a coward for breaking up with you before that. It’s a dick move.”

You shrug off the comment. “I’d rather him do it now then drag it out. Now I can just focus on myself. Gonna get snacks and have a night in my hotel. Maybe get ice cream from the place next door.”

“Can I join?” Mat asked. 

“Are you sure?”

Matt agreed and the two of you finished grabbing snacks for the night and finished Mat’s shopping. He brought groceries for his apartment so the two created a plan. First, drop off Mat’s groceries to his apartment. Then head to your hotel to have a chill night. 

You two arrived back at your hotel, which was quite a fancy one since you and your partner had planned to stay there together. First, before retreating to your bedroom, you stopped by the ice cream place and got way too much. Enough that Mat’s nutritionist would cry at the thought of the hockey player consuming all that sugar. 

“This is nice.” The two of you walked into the nice hotel room. A modern style hotel room on the 9th floor. A king sized bed in the middle with the bathroom off to the left as you walked in. There was even a window with a blind in the shower. “Have you stayed here before?”

“Yeah, my ex worked nearby so I’d stay when I’d come to visit him,” You respond.

Mat grabbed the bag of snacks and put that on the counter, wrapped you in a hug and dragged you onto the bed. The smell of his cologne filled your senses. Despite your old hook up ways with Mat, the familiar scent still gave you butterflies.

“I wanna have a shower and get into my pyjamas,” You sighed, pulling away from Mat. You grabbed some clothes and went to go to the bathroom when a sulking sound came from the boy laying on your bed. When you looked at him, he was pulling the puppy's eyes. “What? Do you wanna join?”

“Please?” You giggled and agreed, leaving him to join you when he wished. “Thank youuuu!”

The bathroom was really modern. A large mirror in front of the sink and a huge shower with a rainfall head. Your favourite type of shower. After turning on the water to your preferred temperature, you stripped and got into the shower. The water felt calming as you stood under the stream. 

“Heya,” Mat mutters as he slips into the shower. 

You leaned into the hockey player as he wrapped his arms around you. This wasn’t the first time you had showered with him. But let’s just say usually, a simple shower wasn’t just that. 

“Are you okay?” Mat asks as you’re unusually quiet around him. That question just makes you break. A flood of emotions coming through. Mat was quick to pull you closer, tight against his naked body as you started to sob. “He’s an idiot.”

“What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing. I promise you it’s him. He’s the worst person for doing this to you. He’s the problem.”

Once you had calmed down and the two of you had finished washing, you changed into your pyjamas and cuddled up on bed with a ton of snacks surrounding the pair of you. Mat had signed into his Disney. You allowed him to pick what the two of you would watch for the night. When you saw the intro it solidified the hidden feeling for him. It was your favourite show.

“Thanks for this,” You mutter to Mat.

The brunette kissed the top of your head. “Always.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[youshouldhavepaidattentiondad]

“Are you actually going into work today?”

John bites back a groan. “Yes, I am,” he says evenly before taking a sip of his coffee. “Is that a problem?

His husband glares at him. “You do know what today is, don’t you?”

“Yes, Eric. It’s our anniversary,” John answers flatly. He finishes his coffee and stands, carrying the mug over to the sink to rinse it out.

This does nothing to placate Eric. “It feels like all you do is work,” he gripes, leaning back against the counter. His arms cross over his chest. “We never take vacations, we barely spend holidays together, and trying to get you home to at least have dinner together is like pulling teeth!”

Breathing heavily through his nose, John sets the mug in the sink and turns around. “My job demands a lot, Eric. You knew that when we got together. I made it perfectly clear.”

“Yeah and I could understand when you were actually being sent on missions,” Eric shoots back, “But you’re a general now. And yet, every day you go sit in your office doing God knows what just in case.”

John silently counts back from ten as he picks his beret off the table and places it on his head. “I don’t want to fight,” he finally replies, his voice quiet. “I’ll try to get home early for dinner tonight, alright?”

Huffing, Eric shakes his head. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he mutters.

Ignoring the stinging in his chest at those words, John grabs his keys off the counter. “I love you.”

“...love you too,” Eric mumbles. He sighs, arms dropping, before giving John a kiss. “Please try to make it home in time for dinner.”

A small smile settles on John’s lips. “I will,” he promises.

When John arrives at PEIP HQ, he’s immediately accosted by Xander. “Isn’t today yours and Eric’s anniversary?” Xander demands as they walk down the hall. “What are you doing at work?”

“I still have a job to do, anniversary or not,” John replies as he pulls out a cigarette.

Eric hates his smoking.

John pulls ahead of Xander to head to his office. The ring on his finger glints in the light as he opens the door to his office. Once the door closes, he locks it before heading to his desk.

Breathing out smoke, he drops into his desk chair. He really didn’t need to come in today. His paperwork is caught up, there’s no new developments in the labs, and he’s already read all of the reports he’s received from the agents out in the field.

He knows why he came in. It makes a pit form in his stomach, a gnawing guilt that he can’t shake.

He taps the ash off the end of his cigarette as he contemplates going home. He could stop by the florist, get flowers for Eric. Lilies, definitely. Those are his favorites.

Taking another drag off his cigarette, he moves to stand.

Suddenly, there’s hands on his shoulders, shoving him back into his chair. “Where do you think you’re going, Johnny?

Swallowing heavily, John stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “I was just-”

The hands don’t move from his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. “We haven’t even gotten a chance to play yet,” the familiar deep, gravelly voice murmurs in his ear.

“Not today.” John doesn’t beg, but his voice teeters on pleading. “I’m not-”

A sharp bark of a laugh cuts him off. “What makes today any different, Johnny? It’s just another day. If it was that important, you wouldn’t be here waiting for me.”

John hates that he’s right. His head drops in defeat.

“There we go.” The hands leave his shoulder right before his chair spins around. A hand lifts his chin, making him look directly at Wiley. A smirk stretches across his lips before he leans down to catch John’s lips in a heated kiss.

John doesn’t push him away.

He never does.

After Wiley disappears, John quickly composes himself before leaving his office. Everything feels like a blur. Next thing he knows, he’s standing on the doorstep at home, holding a bouquet of lilies for his husband.

He walks inside to find Eric in the living room, reading a book.

Eric glances up before quickly doing a double take. He closes his book hurriedly, tossing it aside before rushing over to John. “You actually came home early!”

The broad smile on his face makes John’s chest ache with guilt. He forces a grin. “Yeah. Figured the office could deal without me for a day.” He offers the flowers to Eric, who takes them with a small gasp. “Here, let me go change and we’ll go out for lunch.”

As he climbs the stairs, John tries to shove down the guilt, swearing to himself this is the last time.

He knows it’s not.