#it’s so long too oh man I really said ‘you want pain? I’ll give you pain’

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you look deep enough into steve’s eyes, the colors start to shift from a medium-brown to light, almost golden, like his hair in the summer, like his skin when it’s wet.

eddie finds himself noticing these things more often as the year after vecna passes. on the anniversary of nearly dying, eddie thinks he’s noticed everything about steve.

but then steve shows up at his door after dropping the kids off at their respective homes, a smile on his face, and something mysterious in his eyes. something that distracts eddie from the golden specks the reflect off his porch light. something that only eddie really gets to see.

“wanna take a ride?”

“where you taking me, big boy?”

steve blushes, a soft pink that would be warm to the touch if eddie was brave enough to reach out.

“it’s a surprise.”

eddie trusts steve, so he gets in his car and doesn’t ask anymore questions.

steve talks about something dustin did on the way, complaining with a fondness only steve could have for the kid.

it hits eddie as steve pulls onto a side road.

the field.

the wildflowers bloomed early this year, and eddie had mentioned recently that he would like to make new memories in a place where he was facing death or prison exactly one year ago.

he didn’t think anyone was listening, but apparently steve was.

steve parks the car and eddie doesn’t think he can look at him yet. he thinks he’s gonna cry. he thinks he’s so deeply in love with this man that he may never experience anything like it again.

it’s dark, but the moon is bright. there’s still a light chill in the air, but eddie’s still wearing his leather jacket from hellfire earlier, so he barely feels it.

they walk together through the field, close enough that their hands brush, but still more distance between them than eddie wants. he’s surrounded by beauty: the flowers, the stars, steve.

he stops when steve does.

they both look up at the stars for a few minutes, silent so they can hear the crickets and their own heartbeats.

“a year ago, when i almost lost you, i thought about all the things i didn’t get to do or say or know about you. i was angry for a long time.” steve turns to eddie, giving him a sad smile. “it wasn’t fair that you had to go through all of that and i couldn’t do anything. the doctors weren’t doing enough, and the cops weren’t doing enough, and no one understood how important it was that they fix it.”

eddie’s watching him, baffled. he’s not sure where this is going and he’s worried that his own feelings may be clouding his vision.

“i couldn’t make your pain go away. i couldn’t make it easier. i couldn’t help you walk again or play guitar. i just had to watch.”

eddie feels a tug in his stomach, a pull that leaves him breathless.

“but i watched. and i saw every side of you. and i don’t think i’ll say this right, but i practiced with robin and she thinks i did good.” steve breathes in and turns to face eddie completely. “i learned a side of me that i didn’t know about while i watched you. i learned that love looks different than what i always thought. and i learned that because of you.”

“because of…me?” eddie’s trying not to get his hopes up, but he’s pretty sure they’re higher than ever.

“because you love so loudly. everyone you love knows it and you aren’t scared that they’ll run away. it’s probably because it’s impossible not to love you.”

eddie thinks he actually is experiencing some kind of post-death dream. maybe he got too high in his room and steve never even showed up at his door.

“eddie? did you hear me?”

eddie focuses on steve’s look of concern, on the golden specks in his eyes that the moonlight makes shimmer.

“i don’t know?”

“i said i love you.”

“oh. then, no, i didn’t.”

steve’s face falls and eddie realizes a second too late that his response to steve saying he loves him wasn’t the exact thing he’d been holding back for at least six months now.

“i just thought you should know. um. so i guess i can wait in the car if you wanna stay a bit longer-“

eddie is only staying in this field if steve is with him, so he wraps his arms around steve’s shoulders and hugs him harder than is probably safe.

“i love you. sorry i’m a dumbass and didn’t say it the second you did. i was trying to convince myself this was real life.”

steve laughs against his ear and eddie’s pretty sure they belong like this.

“why now?” eddie asks as he pulls away.

“because i told myself if you didn’t do it by today, i would.”

“how long have you been waiting on me?”

steve lets out a breath. “eight months give or take.”

“that is…much longer than i would’ve expected.”

“yeah, well, imagine being the one waiting.”

eddie smiles at steve, and steve smiles back, and eddie notices a new thing.

steve harrington’s got a crooked tooth. an imperfection to some, a sign of being human to eddie.

“what’s that face for?” steve asks.

“you’re perfect, stevie.”

they kiss in the field where eddie was saying goodbyes a year ago. they look at stars in a clear sky while holding hands and talking about what their future might look like. steve’s head rests in eddie’s lap while eddie traces steve’s lips with his finger, memorizing the curl of his lips when he smiles and the feel of the vibrations when he hums a song eddie doesn’t recognize.

steve picks flowers, and eddie makes a crown, and they both say i love you in a million ways.

they walk along the edges of the field, where the rv was parked while they prepared for the worst. eddie shivers at the memories, but steve kisses his shoulder and the back of his hand and he shivers at that instead.

they ride back, and eddie sings along to whatever songs play on the radio, even if he messes up the words. steve laughs and it’s better than any music they could listen to.

they kiss on eddie’s porch, surrounded by darkness because no one turned on the outside light. it’s so late, no one would see them anyway.

steve stays at eddie’s, but wayne’s home, so they’re quiet and keep their hands above the waist even though they so desperately want to touch, and kiss, and bite every inch of each other.

they still get carried away, which doesn’t surprise eddie at all. what does surprise eddie is how quickly steve sits in his lap, rutting against his stomach and biting back moans and whimpers and eddie laces their fingers together and squeezes, meeting each thrust with his own. neither of them last long, coming in their pants like virgins. they laugh, but they kiss through it, teeth clacking as they gasp for breath.

they take turns in the bathroom in case wayne wakes up. steve comes back into eddie’s room without a shirt and hair slightly damp. eddie feels his heartbeat quicken as steve hops into bed next to him.

they sleep with steve curled against eddie’s chest, eddie’s arms around his back, sweaty but content.

content and happy.

and when the sun rises the next morning, eddie wakes first and notices another new thing about steve: he drools in his sleep.

[joelsmochi]

outside? no problem. - joel miller

rating: E 18+ pairing: joel x pornstar!reader summary: part four; after convincing joel to go on a journey within nature with you, you quickly realize that a long hike won't be enough to wear you out. warnings: porn with a little bit of plot, slightly proofread (expect errors), joel is a llittle nervous, some anxiety, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation without orgasm (look it up it's hot), use of daddy, creampie, public sex + risk of getting caught, joel experiencing love and affection!!!!!!, reader gets her first official hate comment (plus a couple horny ones just cus lol) wc: 2.5k my thoughts: this was a very random thought i had, but it's fun and nothing too serious. also i hate the title but oh well 🥲 part five will dive into emotions a little more than i have allowed for this series, but for now enjoy the smut lovelies <3

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“How many miles so far?” You asked Joel, who shot you a quick glance before returning his attention to the trail ahead of him.

“So far eight,” he replied. “We really need’a do this today?”

“Oh, you mean after you came up with excuse after excuse the past three weeks? Yeah, we needed to do it today,” you sassed before steadying the camera to focus on the trees ahead.

“Can we take a break? My knees are killin’ me—“

He was cut off by your giggling and you managed to zoom in on the glare he was giving you.

“What?” He firmly asked, halting his progression forward.

“Old man,” you teased as you passed him.

A stinging sensation quickly seared across your right ass cheek causing you to jolt from the smack Joel planted there.

You yelped, laughing as you back away from him; he managed to snatch the camera out of your hands and pointed it at you as you tried to rub away the pain. Your shorts was unbearably wedged into your ass showing off more than enough of your butt, waistband folded down to expose more of your body than necessary.

“Smartass,” he grumbled. “You turn fifty fucking years old and tell me how your knees hold up after eight miles.”

You grinned, walking over to him and smacking his chest playfully. “My knees will feel fucking amazing because they’re used to a little traction.”

He chuckled, petting the side of your head endearingly, eyes softening as they examined your features. “I’ll just have to take your word for that then, huh?”

“You’ll have to take a lot from me,” you mumbled against his lips before closing the space between your two.

His tongue immersed itself into the world of your mouth, cherished the cool, wet slick cheeks, the grooves of your teeth, that serpent tongue of yours — he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t high on you 24/7 starting two weeks prior, when his brother paid you a visit.

You’d been making it up to him even though he continuously assured you there was nothing to make up for.

But he most certainly was not going to complain.

Suddenly, everything you did was just that much better to him, and not just during sex. He wanted to give you more than what you’d initially agreed upon. Love. A life. He didn’t just want you to be satisfied, he wanted you to be happy.

And he memorized every centimeter of your body, how it felt, how you reacted to his every move.

Every time his tongue slid across the top of yours he could feel your eyebrows furrow a little more.

Every time you deepened your grasp on his jaw or shirt, you wanted him to open his mouth a little more so you could reach further into him. To somehow be even closer to him.

And every time he moaned pleasure into your mouth your body melted a little more into his, and your lips curled into a smile.

It wasn’t until you’d heard footsteps nearby that you finally broke the kiss.

“Two more miles,” you whispered against his lips, giving him one final peck before continuing the hike.

He rubbed in the cherry chapstick you left on his heated lips and watched you walk away for a moment before following.

“We just reached ten miles,” you said to the camera that Joel smugly forced into your face, “and I’m so fucking— tired— why the fuck are the last two miles entirely uphill?!”

“Yeah, how those knees working now?”

“My knees are fine, fuck you very much,” you expressed between deep pants. “And I’ll prove it.”

“What about the ten miles back?” He said gleefully, nearly bursting with excitement at your breathless suffering.

“Oh,” you chirped, “old man afraid of some sex in the woods?”

“Wh—HERE?!”

“Not here. Maybeeee… There.”

“We’re not having sex in the woods—“

“Old man!” You shouted after you ran away into the trees.

“Fuck,” Joel breathed out before walking in the general direction of your disappearance.

After five minutes (which felt more like a half hour) of not being able to find you he began thinking the worst.

His palm became clammy, heart beating so fast it felt like punches, but the relief he felt as soon as he spotted you was well worth the worry.

Joel’s eyes scanned over your body, spotting a familiar pair of shorts and panties lying on the ground nearby.

His face didn’t change from the looks of anger however. You offered a bashful smile before settling your knees into the leaves and twigs on the woodland floor, sweatshirt covering the sweetest part of you.

“Don’t do that again,” he scolded, even going as far as to point a finger down at you.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you replied, gently pressing a kiss to the heel of his palm. “I thought you were right behind me.”

“We’re not doing this. Not here.”

“But the camera’s already rolling… Be a shame to turn it off now.”

Watching you bat your eyes up at him while toying with the drawstring on his shorts was more than enough to get him to fold, but he was still hesitant. It was such an open and public space. Anyone could stumble into the woods and catch you two in the act.

Anyone could catch you…

“Make it quick,” he huffed.

You giggled happily, yanking his shorts to his ankles and allowing his semi-hard cock to spring free.

You hummed, giving his balls a gentle squeeze and tug while stroking his velvety shaft.

“Kiss it,” he said. “Yeah, that’s it babygirl… O-oh, fuck.”

Your tongue darted out to trail along the pulsating vein on the side of his dick, until you reached the bead of precum nestled on the tip of his head.

You pulled your head back, forcing Joel to watching the string of his precum stretch from him to you.

The last thing he expected was sex in the woods, but now that your were on your knees sucking him dry with a camera being held a few inches away it suddenly made sense why you insisted on recording.

Wanna make memories my ass, he thought, blissfully so as you were giving him full access to your tight throat.

“Hold it, hold— fuck. Right there, baby.”

He whimpered as you swallowed around him, big hand reaching to stroke and rub the side of your face, wiping away a few stray tears.

You pulled your head back enough to take a few breaths before repeating the act of deepthroating, going as hard and fast as you could handle for a while before forcing him all the way back in again.

Your cunt clenched around nothing, juices trickling down your thighs as your knees slowly buckled from the pain of twigs digging into your flesh.

He suddenly pulled out of your mouth, seemingly panicked with the rush of an orgasm, shouting, “Ohshitohshitohshit.”

You coughed, attempting to reach for his cock again but he stopped you.

“Fuuuuuck!” He finally moaned as two long, thick ropes of his cum shot onto your face and hair.

You grinned and grabbed a hold to stroke him, hoping for more to come out.

He let out a strained groan, relaxing his abdomen and letting the remaining cum leak out of his tip onto your tongue and the ground.

“Already?” You asked softly while you gave his hard shaft kisses and licks.

“That,” he hissed, “was buildup from you teasing me all day.”

He stepped out of his shorts and sat on top of them, pulling you into his lap.

“Ah!” You laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Those shorts were deeper in your ass than I was last night,” he retorted.

“Mmm, that’s not teasing,” you whispered, pumping his length slowly. “That’s giving you a preview.”

He tugged at your jaw hard, pinching your cheeks, using his index finger to smear the white streaks that were on your face.

“Time for the show then, hmm?” He hummed.

You did your best to smile, nodding against his strong hand.

“That’s right, daddy,” you answered compliantly.

He was patient while you got yourself situated, ass facing him, wet pussy grinding against his pelvis.

Joel tugged at your left cheek to spread you for the video, watching your holes pucker and clench eagerly as you teased yourself before finally sinking down onto his warm cock.

A long drawn out moan left your mouth as he stretched you out. Joel smacked the red bruise he left on you earlier and pinched the same spot right after, forcing you to yelp and stumble in the squatting position you were already struggling to maintain.

You reached back to smack his stomach but he only laughed, sitting up a little to give himself a better view.

He held the camera out enough to get the two of you in the frame as you started bouncing on top of him.

He threw his head back, certain he wouldn’t last long enough to for you to get off.

He’d just have to make it up to you.

Because your pussy swallowed him perfectly, the slight curve of his dick hitting the spot he knew was your favorite.

Your ass clapping against the soft peak of his belly was surely loud enough to echo within the trees, and a mixture footsteps and laughter could be heard not far away enough to give Joel the sense of security he usually required.

No doubt people passing by without headphones in their ears could hear your annoyingly high pitched moans, or the obnoxious clapping of skin to skin as you rode the older man relentlessly.

Joel’s free hand found your clit and he shove the camera between his legs for both a close up shot of you soaking his cock with your juices.

Joel tried to think about something, anything to stop the threat of cumming too soon, but all he could focus on was how deep your pussy felt, and how it was all his.

“This pussy belong t’me?” He growled beneath you, smacking your sensitive clit when you didn’t give him an answer.

“Yes, daddy! Yesyes—fuuuck!” You shouted, head bobbing as you bounced even higher and harder.

He gripped your hips hard enough to keep you still before thrusting up into you, forcing your moans to be louder and longer.

You could feel that tingle underneath your clit, the one that threatened to release itself if Joel’s forceful thrusts didn’t stop.

You became clumsy, falling forward and accidentally knocking the camera over, but work was the last thing on your mind.

You begged for Joel to keep going— “Don’t stop please! Don’t fucking stop, Joel!”

“You gonna cum? You gonna soak my cock pretty girl?”

With bent legs and trembling hands you tried to meet his thrusts halfway, forcing him to thrust even deeper into to you.

“I’m gonna—fuck!” You leaned back and used your hand to rub your clit painfully fast, that tingling now releasing itself.

“What? You’re gonna what?!” He encouraged, smacking your thigh to coerce the words out of you even more.

“I’m gonna cum, Jo— I’m gonna fucking…! Cum!”

An uncontrollable gush of liquids flooded between your bodies, the intensity of the orgasm overbearing your body through the gummy walls of your cunt and the small vessel beneath your clit.

You cried out at how overwhelming it all was but  not doing anything to stop it, wanting Joel to feel as much of your orgasm as you could give him.

Your pussy was throbbing, clenching tighter with every throb his cock forced you to endure; you wondered if he had anymore cum left to fill you up with.

As you squirted all over him he found himself on the brink of bliss. His body was planted firmly into the ground by now, letting your juices pool in the curves of his body.

He tried to stop you long enough to film it, but you were so dazed and set on making him finish he couldn’t get more than a strained grunt out before finally cumming inside of your swollen cunt.

His nails indented crescent moons into your waist, cock straining against your walls.

Joel nearly choked from breathlessly moaning your name, back and neck arching off of the cold ground. His eyes were screwed shut from the overstimulation as you eagerly bounced on his cock despite the burning in your joints.

It wasn’t until you finally stopped that Joel felt he could breathe again; his eyes slowly opened, he was immediately greeted with the smile on your face.

“You certainly made a mess,” he chuckled upon noticing the mixture of cream and squirt everywhere.

“You love when it’s messy,” you chirped.

“Mmhm,” he hummed after sitting up slightly.

He opened his mouth to say something else but he hesitated, taking the prolonged silence as a sign to keep his thoughts to himself and opting to just reach for the camera instead.

“Lift slowly— Slower,” he instructed.

You raised your hips up slow, just like he said, feeling that burning stretch one last time until his dick was finally out; you heard him moan and praise you as his cum slowly leaked from your hole down your lips, dripping onto the peak of his belly adding to the mess.

“Look at that,” he groaned, using his fingers to spread your lips. “You’re so fuckin’ amazing.”

Using one hand to spread one of your cheeks you looked back towards him and said, “Leave some in for the hike back.”

He used two of his thick fingers to stuff the little amount of his load back inside of you, biting his lips in an attempt to contain himself when your hips twitched at the delicious burn.

Soon after, you decided it was time to clean up and start the dreadful journey back to the car.

“Your knees gonna hold up, Grandpa?” You teased once you both were back on the trail; you were both unphased of the judgmental looks you received from a couple that was nearby. Even if they didn’t hear anything, your flushed faces and sudden appearance from within the trees was telling enough, but you couldn’t care less as of now.

Neither could he.

“They’re gonna have to,” he replied as he gently tugged your arm so that his lips touched your ear. “I’m gonna need them to bend you over later.”

“Oh, Joel, I will definitely be taking you up on that.”

DILF takes care of me when I get horny on the hike ;)

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Comments

user1 need a slut like that 😍

user2 fuuck this made me so wet

user3 first this bitch lets two brothers fuck her worthless ass at the same time (gross on so many levels) and now she’s fucking in the dirty ass woods ??this slut is disgusting and a waste of oxygen

         ⤷  yourusername if you keep talking dirty to me like that i’m gonna have to fuck your brother in the woods next to relieve myself 

[loveinhawkins]

There’s a table in the school library that’s nestled in the corner, right by a radiator; Steve has claimed it ever since his double block of ‘private study periods’ began.

Not that he’s planning on doing any studying: it’s the last day of school before the winter break, and while his face has healed up from the whole Billy Hargrove Incident, he still finds himself feeling wiped at random—like his body’s having a delayed adrenaline crash ever since he pulled Dustin out of that freaky vine-infested tunnel.

So really, this spot should be ideal for a couple hours of not having to think.

And it would be perfect, if his eyes weren’t instinctively drawn to movement at the front desk.

Because for the past god-knows-how-long, Eddie Munson has been in a back-and-forth with the librarian.

It had started when he ambled up to the desk with a healthy pile of books in his hands, placed them down neatly, all ready to be stamped. Flashed a charming smile.

Steve was too far away to hear the words, but he got the gist that whatever the librarian had said amounted to no, absolutely not, because Eddie scooped the books back up, dumped them on a table a little distance away from Steve’s, then hemmed and hawed before returning to the desk with a more modest pile than before.

He was sent away again with presumably the same refusal, and so the pattern repeated until this very minute: he’s returning with just one book in his hands, his smile less charming now, more desperate.

But… no luck.

Eddie slouches back to the table in defeat. Just stands there, staring down at the books.

And goddamn it, Steve thinks, now he’s invested.

“Hey. Munson,” he says in an undertone. “What’s up?”

He doesn’t miss the weird kind of double take Eddie gives him, but at least Steve knows it’s not because of his face being a mess this time—seriously, drawing looks from students when all he wanted was to get in line for crappy cafeteria pizza had not been fun.

“Nothing,” Eddie says with a shrug, and he flashes another wide smile that makes Steve think bullshit. “Apparently I racked up a mountain of late fees. Who knew?” He sighs, glancing at his wristwatch. “Guess I’ve got enough time to just read the—oh. Um. Hey?”

“These books?” Steve confirms, having already stood up to look at them.

Eddie blinks a few times. “Yeah, these—uh, Harrington, what the fuck do you think you’re—?”

Steve heads over to the front desk with the books. It’s not all that difficult of a decision to make; he remembers Tommy H had his own library late fees in freshman year, but got nothing more than a simpering, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, sweetie,” just because his mom knew someone on the school board.

“For checking out, please,” Steve says, not bothering with a smile as he hands over his library card.

The only resistance he gets is a raised eyebrow from the librarian before all the books are stamped.

“What the fuck,” Eddie says, voice flat; he doesn’t take the books when Steve tries to give them to him, so Steve just shrugs and goes back to his seat, sets the books pointedly on the edge of the table.

“Look, man, it’s up to you, but I’m not gonna take them. They’ll just be sitting here.”

Eddie huffs. He goes over to the books, his hand twitching towards them before drawing back, like he’s at war with himself.

“You—you didn’t have to do that,” he gets out as if it physically pains him to do so.

Prickly, Steve thinks.

“It’s no big deal,” he says. “My account’s gathering dust, so someone might as well get the good of it.”

At hearing that, Eddie looks a little less defensive. He chews on his lips for a few seconds, then says, his tone serious, “Harrington, I’ll—I’ll forget. Like, with the holidays… like, I guarantee you, even if I write a million fucking reminders, I’m gonna take these books and forget to bring ‘em back for months.”

“Oh, no,” Steve says dryly, “lemme go alert the press, I just heard a blatant confession to a crime. Dude, just take them, what do I care if your homework takes you months to—”

“It’s not even for school,” Eddie interrupts through gritted teeth, “it’s dumb, it’s just—”

“Jesus Christ. Lemme call the press again, sounds like you’re reading a book for fun.”

Eddie stares at him. Steve raises an eyebrow in challenge—he could do this all day; just the other week, he’d beaten Mike in a brutal staring contest that felt like it went on for hours.

Eddie breaks first. “Fine,” he says with another huff, but he’s less agitated when handling the books—lingers thoughtfully on their titles, puts a couple in his backpack. The rest he opens at seemingly random parts, but it looks like he knows what he’s searching for.

And then it seems as if he’s just going to pick up the remaining books and walk away—Steve expects him to, honestly—but he ends up staying where he is, gives Steve a look of consideration, almost like he’s a book worth reading, too.

“You stole my table, you know?” Eddie says.

“Uh, no,” Steve says automatically, then adds with more confidence, “I was definitely here first.”

Eddie snorts. “Nope. My senior year, uh,” he shrugs self-deprecatingly, “the first time around. That was my spot. Was pretty possessive over it too, think I signed the table, like, underneath.”

Steve’s eyebrows rise in interest; he runs a finger along the underside of the table and soon feels it: an E.M scratched into the wood.

“Huh,” he says. “Guess you’re right.”

A pause.

And then Steve surprises himself.

“There’s, um, room here, if you want? I’m not gonna use the whole table.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. There’s a long enough silence in which Steve considers just telling him to forget about it, but then—

Eddie sits down opposite him.

It’s not as awkward as Steve was expecting: Eddie seems focused enough on his books, on bringing out a battered looking journal with sheets of paper that look like they’re hanging on by a thread. He roots around his backpack some more, retrieves a ballpoint pen with a quiet, triumphant, “Aha!”

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve isn’t even making an attempt to look busy; his own side of the table is bare.

“Didn’t know you were left-handed,” Steve says after a moment.

Eddie looks up from his note-taking. He smirks, waggles his eyebrows briefly. “Fitting, huh? Spooky.”

“Oh, I’m terrified.”

And Eddie actually laughs—hushed, but it still counts as one.

He soon returns to being absorbed in whatever it is he’s writing, which means Steve has less of a distraction when the familiar wave of tiredness washes over him.

He tries to sit up as well as he can, conscious of the fact that he’s not alone, but the radiator is the perfect temperature, and the steady scratch of Eddie’s pen has a soporific effect. He’s distantly aware of the fact that his head is nodding down with dwindling energy to try and stop it—hears Eddie’s voice, as if from very far away, rising in question.

Steve sniffs sharply, jerks his head back up and blinks hard. “What?”

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and he sounds genuine. “Didn’t know you were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve says.

“Uh, okay,” Eddie says. His lips twitch. “That was an awfully long blink then, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve retorts mildly. He stretches slightly, hides a yawn behind his hand. “Did you actually want something or—”

“Nah, wasn’t important.”

Steve frowns, unconvinced. The side of Eddie’s left hand is covered in ink, and Steve can see where his pen has started to die on him as his writing gets more faded across the page.

Steve puts a hand in his pocket, brings out another ballpoint and throws it at Eddie.

The pen bounces along the table, and Eddie manages to catch it one-handed.

“Good catch,” Steve says.

“Thanks,” Eddie says. He sounds almost uncertain.

Silence falls. It only takes another minute or two of hearing Eddie writing away for Steve’s determination to stay awake to waver again. He slumps forward with a mumbled, “M’just gonna…” and lays his head down.

Eddie stops writing.

“Hey, man, are you… okay? Like, if you feel… if you wanna go home I could take you to the nurse? Or—”

“I’m fine,” Steve says into his folded arms. “S’just… the aftermath of… stuff. No big deal.”

“Oh?” Eddie says tentatively.

Steve lifts his head up a bit, squints dubiously. “C’mon, Munson. You must’ve heard the rumour mill.”

Billy Hargrove had spread it all over the school, how he had ‘taught King Steve a lesson.’ In all honesty, Steve hadn’t cared all that much about how he himself came across in whatever story Billy created, was just relieved that at least Max and Lucas’s names had been kept out of it.

“I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Eddie says carefully. “Folks can say… all kindsa things.”

Steve nods faintly. Fair point.

“Okay, but you can take a little bit of stock in this one. Like, a smidge.”

Steve demonstrates with his thumb and forefinger.

It’s only when Eddie doesn’t smile in response that Steve realises he’d been hoping to make him laugh again. Maybe.

“Huh. Well. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Steve says tiredly.

“Harrington. I’m not stupid, y’know? That was more than a… a stupid fight after school or something. Like, I can remember what your face looked like.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve sets his head back down, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t—I just meant whatever it was, it… it went too far. Way too fucking far.”

Steve yawns again, doesn’t bother hiding it. “Yeah. Something like that.”

He’s resigning himself to the thought of waking up with a stiff neck before Eddie sighs and says, “If you’re gonna sleep, Harrington, don’t be an amateur about it.”

Steve looks up in time to see Eddie reaching underneath the table with one leg, hooking his ankle round the empty chair next to Steve and shoving it closer to him.

“Three or four’s probably the best amount for stretching out on,” Eddie says. “Uh, speaking from experience.”

Steve smiles. “Noted.”

He manoeuvres himself until he’s lying much more comfortably across the seats, using his backpack and coat as a pillow.

Frustratingly but predictably, despite his fatigue, sleep doesn’t come easily, so Steve looks underneath the table and asks, “What’re you writing about, Munson?”

He can see Eddie’s boots, how one foot is tapping away, as if in time to a song no-one else can hear.

“Um, I was just… getting inspiration for… it’s kinda like. Like a story, but—”

“Don’t hurt yourself, dude,” Steve says, “I know what a campaign is.”

The foot tapping stops.

“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Eddie says.

He sounds a bit far away again, though Steve knows that’s just in his head; he can feel his eyelids drooping.

“You’ve got…” He sighs, voice trailing off as he finishes, “No idea…”

Eddie launches into a speech; Steve can follow it well enough for a little while, Eddie rambling about the kind of decisions he thinks his players will make in the game, but eventually the words become a blur, and he drifts off just like that, into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep.

He wakes with the lightest of touches to his shoulder, a soft, “Steve?” that nevertheless makes him jolt to full alertness in a blink, reaching for a bat he doesn’t currently have.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps, almost falling back against the table. “What the hell kinda military training d’you have, Harrington?”

“Just have good reflexes,” Steve says, hopes it sounds casual enough as he breathes through his suddenly racing heart.

“Yeah, that’s one way to fucking put it. Anyway, uh. Sorry, didn’t mean to, like, startle you, but you slept right through the bell, man.”

Steve sits up; the library is empty apart from them, the librarian shooting them a not so subtle glare. And he realises that while everyone else was rushing out of school, eager for the holidays to start, Eddie must’ve stayed. Waited for him.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, quickly puts on his coat.

“God, sorry, you didn’t have to—if I’ve made you late, I’m—”

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Eddie puts his backpack strap across one shoulder. “I wasn’t in a hurry. Um, are you… like, good to drive? I can give you a ride, if—”

“I’m okay,” Steve says, struck by the consideration behind the offer. He means what he says though; he feels pleasantly refreshed. He smiles self-effacingly. “Think I need one class where I can just sleep, and then I’ll get through the day.”

Eddie gives a playful scoff. “That’s already a thing, Harrington, it’s called first period.”

They walk out of the library together, and Steve finds that it’s kind of… nice, honestly. He keeps waiting for some awkwardness to creep in again, but it never does.

“Big holiday plans?” Eddie asks, smalltalk that should be stilted, but it just sounds like he’s sincerely interested in the answer.

Steve shrugs. “Not really. Oh, I’ve got—you know the Snow Ball thing tomorrow, at the middle school? There’s this kid I know, I’m gonna give him a ride there, but—”

Steve breaks off with a fond shake of the head, knowing that there’s this kid I know doesn’t really give it justice, doesn’t say the full truth: that Dustin Henderson has somehow wormed his way into Steve’s goddamn heart forever.

“His mom’s invited me over for dinner tonight,” he continues. “Think he wants, like, a dress-rehearsal of his outfit or something, which is probably the closest he’ll ever come to admitting he’s nervous. I kinda feel for him, honestly. God, do you remember being thirteen? Everything seemed to matter so much, and most of it was just… stupid shit.”

They’ve reached the parking lot, and Eddie gives Steve a sideways look with a bemused smile.

“Woah, Harrington, we’re still in school, remember? Don’t think we’re meant to sound so world-weary yet.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah.” He gestures at Eddie’s get-up. “Bet you’ve never once cared about the stupid shit, though.”

What people think.

Eddie’s smile turns more knowing. “Shockingly, Harrington,” he says, “I didn’t come out the womb like this.”

They both hesitate; they’re at Steve’s car now, Eddie’s van parked in a space that’s further away. There’s no reason, really, for the conversation to continue any longer.

But Eddie still lingers.

“Uh, enjoy your dinner, I guess. If the… dress-rehearsal goes shit, just tell the kid it’s good luck for the real night.”

Steve laughs. “He’s in the Drama Club, so that might work, actually. Thanks, Munson.” He opens the car door as Eddie nods, starts to head off to his van. Seized by a sudden impulse, Steve calls, “Happy holidays!”

“Yeah, you too.” Eddie turns, tapping at his temple exaggeratedly. “Won’t forget about the books, I promise.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You better not,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.

He starts the car and heads for Dustin’s house, honks the horn when he drives past Eddie’s van, catches Eddie waving.

Steve thinks he quite likes the idea (regardless of whether it’ll put his library account in jeopardy), of the books finding a permanent home at Eddie’s place. Briefly imagines Eddie writing with an ink-stained hand, curled up safely in a world of his own—where the only monsters are the ones that live in between the pages.

[lovexdeepspace]

“life without you.”

summary; months after breaking up with them, they come for reconciliation.

warnings; heartbreak, break-ups

note; wowowow the first part to this blew up and i am so beyond thankful for all the love! after this comes more requests :D

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

first part | angst ending

“we should probably see other people.”

༊*·˚. xavier

it had been a couple of months since you broke things off with xavier and the way his face had contorted into one of subtle shock made you feel, well, better about things. although it had pained you to say the words, knowing that he was instantly hit with something — be it guilt, regret, sadness, whatever — made you feel better knowing it meant he still cared enough about you.

though the months of silence that followed had you second guessing that notion, no matter how many times you tried to tell yourself it was normal for this to happen and that you should take advantage of this time. you would never admit to anyone the many nights you would spend on your couch, waiting around late at night hoping that knock would come on your door and your sleepy hunter would be on the other side.

perhaps you ended up manifesting it one too many times, however, because now you stand pj-clad in your doorway with one hand on your hip and a raised brow as xavier held out a round, marshmallow-looking stuffed bunny to you.

“what’s this?” you deadpanned, knowing exactly what he was doing — you just wanted to hear him say it.

xavier’s lips pressed into a tight line as he avoided your eyes and muttered, “i really screwed up. i didn’t realize how good things were with you until i lost you.”

you stayed silent, motioning for him to continue when he glanced your way.

“i don’t deserve to ask you for forgiveness, let alone should i expect you to take me back,” he said, holding your gaze, “but i’d be even more of a fool not to try. i’m so, so sorry i put you in such a shitty situation.”

xavier pushed the bunny a little closer to you, brightening a bit as you took it into your arms. it was soft and downright adorable, a stuffed reflection of the man in front of you(though, again, something else on the list of things that wouldn’t be admitted by you).

“i don’t expect you to answer me any time soon,” he added quickly, filling the silence, “so i’ll just —“

“xavier.”

the blonde immediately shut his mouth, giving you his rapt attention. with a sigh you look from the bunny to him before extending a hand to him, albeit hesitantly.

“i was in the middle of watching a movie,” you said, earning a confused look. “do you want to finish it with me?”

if your heart wasn’t racing by that point, the way xavier’s face broke out in a grin before he grabbed your hand excitedly and pulled you into your own apartment had it pounding against your rib cage like a drum.

༊*·˚. rafayel

you recieved a torrent of snarky, snappy texts following your brief break-up with rafayel. he switched between gaslighting you that nothing was happening and that you were overreacting to him acting nonchalant about the whole thing; it was so bad that you had to block his number before you even got back to your apartment, which was a few blocks away.

it was weird to not have your phone blowing up all day long but, at the same time, the silence was a sort of reprieve while you dealt with the emotional repercussions of the whole situation. it allowed you some peace of mind and gave you the space needed to cope and, with the months that followed, grow more comfortable with not being in a relationship anymore.

you had finally found yourself at peace once again, keeping yourself busy with things to do like trying out the new restaurant downtown. as you were getting ready to head out, a knock came from your front door.

“just a minute!” you called, adjusting the collar of your blouse in the mirror before heading to the door and opening it. “oh.”

standing in front of you was rafayel and thomas, the latter giving you a sweet smile and a wave.

“nice to see you!” he chirped before giving rafayel a shove on the shoulder and gesturing to you. “i’ll be in the car.”

“good seeing you, too, thomas,” you called as he walked off, then turned to rafayel. “so. it took your manager forcing you for you to come see me?”

rafayel pouted at you and crossed his arms over his chest. “last i checked, you’re the one who blocked my number.”

you barked out a laugh, unsure as to why you’d be surprised about the audacity of this man. “well, maybe it’s because you tried to downplay my feelings!”

“well i’m sorry, okay?” rafayel retorted, matching your raised volume. “there, happy?”

“happy?” you echoed, running a hand down your face. “rafayel, if you really think —”

“you’re right.”

you froze, biting back the rest of your statement and raising a brow. “i’m right?”

rafayel nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. “i fucked up. like truly, undoubtedly fucked up. and here i am, thinking i can just say sorry and fix it all but that’s not how it works. i’ve got this whole front to keep up to protect my stupid ego but. . .” he sniffles and you realize there are tears in his eyes but he continues before you can speak up.

“fuck my ego,” he spat, clearly more angry at himself with every word he spoke. “my life has been complete and utter shit without you in it. i thought i knew what i was doing but i was wrong and i can’t even begin to express how sorry i am. i don’t deserve forgiveness or anything from you but gods you deserved an apology and i hope this is at least somewhat sufficient.”

rafayel sniffled again, the tip of his nose reddening as he wiped at his eyes. you were shocked to say the least, rooted to the spot as you watched the man you always thought to be so invulnerable breaking down in front of you.

slowly you reached out and your hands pulled his away from his face. he looked at you with wide, teary eyes as your hands cupped his face, your thumbs brushing the few remaining tears away. he whispered your name and you sighed, feeling all the hardened feelings towards the artist and your breakup softening to mush.

“i’ve missed you,” he whispered, leaning into your touch, and everything gets thrown out the window as you press a quick kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, then the corner of his lips.

“i missed you too,” you said quietly. “come inside — i’ll tell thomas that i’ll drive you home later.”

༊*·˚. zayne

his coldness towards you was to be expected but still stung more than you could’ve expected. what made the break-up even worse was that you had to do it at the hospital and she was present for it all. you had tripped over your words and felt like a fool but knew, deep down, it needed to be done to prevent you from spending another sleepless night.

you had accounted for the way you’d feel when you’d find his clothes in your laundry; you’d accounted for the way your heart would surge whenever the rare occurrence came that you’d see him out and about in linkon city; everything was thought out and prepared for to avoid feeling too harshly.

what you had failed to account for, however, was how you’d feel when you came home one day to find zayne sitting on your couch with at least ten different bouquets of flowers surrounding him.

first it was shock — you quite literally dropped all your belongings. zayne raised an eyebrow at your reaction as if it wasn’t incredibly surprising to see him sitting in your apartment after having months of no contact.

second it was realization — you hadn’t taken your spare key back. as soon as it hit you your shock wore off and you groaned, running a hand down your face. after a long day at work this was the last thing you were expecting and needed.

last came the indifference. you gestured to him, then to the door. zayne stood slowly and walked around the bouquets, heading for the door. you were surprised up until he shut the door and headed back to his original spot on the couch.

“zayne,” you deadpanned. “that was a sign for you to leave.”

“do you really want me to leave?” the doctor asked, his steely gaze sending shivers down your spine.

no. “why are you even here?” you asked, defeated, purposely avoiding the question. “months of not talking and you suddenly appear in my apartment? what gives?”

“i need to apologize,” zayne replied bluntly, gesturing to the plethora of flowers surrounding him. “did the flowers not make that obvious? are they not enough? should i have gotten more?”

he looked somewhat distraught as he looked around him and you shook your head with a sigh to cover up the way the corners of your mouth twitched. you’d hardly seen zayne so stressed let alone stressed over flowers and if they were enough for you.

“zayne, the flowers are lovely,” you assured him. “more than i know what to do with, though.”

zayne nodded slowly, a bit more at ease. he stood once more and walked over to you, stopping right in front of you. he took a deep breath and looked you square in the eye, though you noted the way his eyes flitted down to your lips for a split second.

“what i did, how i treated you, all of it was unacceptable,” he said softly and you couldn’t help but already feel him worming his way through your walls. “i don’t know what i was thinking — or if i was even thinking at all. you are the most caring, respectful, and loving partner anyone could ever ask for. i was so lucky to have you by my side and i foolishly messed everything up.”

you wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around him, truly, but he still looked as if he had more to say so you held yourself back for a moment longer.

“you are everything to me,” he said, “and i will do whatever i need to do to regain your trust, your love, everything. however long it takes — days, months, years, nothing else matters to me more than you.”

you were in awe of the man standing before you, so moved by his words and actions that you couldn’t help but wind your arms around him and pull him close to you. you could feel him relax in your embrace, something that nobody else could do no matter what. with your cheek pressed to his chest, you smiled to yourself as you felt him press a kiss to the crown of your head and his arms wrap tightly around you.

“since i went a little overboard with the flowers,” he mumbled, “do you think we should take them down to the hospital and give them out to the patients?”

there he was. your zayne. sweet, compassionate, loving zayne.

taglist; @chim-i @reialbert @circusclownsam @yegrnn @kreishin @xmikanx @frobin4ever @keitthen <3 & all the anons that requested this!

[chrisevansonly]

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ʚ charles leclerc x female reader

ʚ charles gets the one call he never wanted to get, and despite your worries about his precious pista, he doesn’t care about the car. just you.

ʚ angst, description of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, panic attacks, violence (minor), tears and lots of soft charles

ʚ okay idk why i thought of this idea, but i have and here we are, i know people have been asking for angst, this idk if it qualifies as the angst you’re all looking for but I will work on some other ideas too:)

Time was frozen as you sat in the driver’s seat of what once looked like a Ferrari 488 Pista. Only now you could make out the back of the car, the front of it might as well be in a what not to do when you drive a luxury vehicle catalogue. Your head was ringing and your chest pounding as adrenaline and anxiety pumped through your veins, as much as you’d started to feel pain in a multitude of places, your brain was thinking of only one thing;

Charles is going to be so mad.

To make matters worse, the man who had hit you was now cursing through the tinted window, claiming the accident to be all your fault. Deciding to think about Charles’s potential anger later you picked your phone up and called his number.

Thankfully it didn’t take long, 

“Hi baby, are you on your way back”

A pause 

“Um…I-I got in an accident Char…”

The line was silent before he spoke up, panic laced in his voice. 

“Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse.”

“Charles, english please my head hurts so bad.”

Normally you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him in French, but right now it was just too much.

“I’m sorry, where are you baby? Are you hurt bad?”

Sniffling softly, you hummed

“I am down by the marina; my head really hurts. The man who hit me…he-he is yelling loudly at me…can you-oh Charles your poor car….”

“No, don’t even worry about my car baby, you matter more to me, I can’t replace you, but I can replace the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes, keep the doors locked, don’t get out.”

You nodded, only then realizing he couldn’t see you. 

“Yes, okay, I’ll wait here…please hurry”

“I will chérie, I promise.”

-

Just like he’d said, a familiar black Alfa Romeo pulled up next to the crash site, Charles quick to get out and come towards the driver’s side door, only to see the man banging at the window. 

“Hey, can you step away from my car?”

The man turned to look at Charles

“Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!”

“Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture”

It was getting harder for Charles to reign in his anger, quickly pushing the man back, giving him a look that at this point in the evening, had him backing away, finally allowing Charles to open the door and see you

“Hey..hey.. I’m here, its okay?”

Charles swore his heart broke as you looked at him with teary eyes, a bruise above your eyebrow, but thankfully you appeared alright otherwise.

“I-I’m so sorry about your car Charlie, he just-he came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn’t-I am so so sorry!”

Holding back the sobs was almost impossible at this point, but Charles was quick to undo your seatbelt, helping you turn towards the door and put your feet on the ground. Once he had you turned toward him, he brought his hands up to hold your face, his thumbs swiping your cheeks.

“My love, listen to me, you are my main priority, you are the love of my life, and this car is just mental and parts, all which can be fixed, but you cannot, and I cannot have another one of you, ever okay?”

Sniffling you nodded

“Okay…”

In the distance you could heard the sirens coming your way, knowing you’d be going to the hospital, it was a given but for now you really just needed Charles, and he wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.

“Are you hurting badly baby?”

“No, just my head…can you help me up?”

Your boyfriend nodded, holding onto your arms gently as he helped you stand up, before bringing you into his chest, your arms wrapping around him, as he did the same to you.

“I am so glad you’re okay, you have no idea how worried I was…we’ll get you to the hospital and then i’m not leaving your side”

“Promise you won’t?”

Charles smiled as he saw your pinky finger come up, quickly linking his in a pink promise, a tradition you’d both been doing since your third date.

“I promise, i’m not going anywhere”

As the sirens got closer, you leaned further into Charles, knowing no matter what happened, he’d be by your side for as long as you needed him, he’d be there. It didn’t matter if he had a race, media or social events to attend, for you he’d drop them in a heart beat over and over again.

Because he never wanted to get that kind of phone call again.

translations:

-Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse : What do you mean by 'accident?' What happened? Where are you, are you seriously injured?

-Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!: This stupid bitch destroyed my car!

-Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture: I'm asking you again, get away from my car

[rogueddie]

Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.

A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.

“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.

“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”

“I promise?”

“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”

Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...

“Munson?”

“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”

“Yeah, sure.”

She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.

His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.

"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"

"Questions?"

"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.

Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.

"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"

"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"

"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."

"Date of birth?"

"April 29th, 1967."

"Do you know what todays date is?"

"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"

"Almost three weeks, yes."

"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"

She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.

"The year?"

"Uh... 1983?"

She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.

He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.

"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."

"Wait! What- am I ok?"

"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."

Amnesia, his doctor explains.

Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.

But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.

The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.

"We're... close?" He asks her.

"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."

"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."

"How could I not? You're hilarious!"

"What? We never-"

"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."

"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"

"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."

Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.

"Steve!" He yells.

The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.

"Uh, hi?"

"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"

"He is right here, you know."

"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.

"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.

"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"

"Tell us about... what?"

He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."

"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"

"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"

"So you... don't remember me."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine," he lies.

Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.

"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.

"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"

"Which room?"

"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"

"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.

Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.

"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."

"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.

"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."

"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"

Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."

"What? It's been years!"

"It's not that simple."

"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"

"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."

"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"

"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."

Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.

"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"

He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.

"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"

Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."

"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."

"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"

"Hey-"

[leth-writes]

Yandere batfam x reader part 5

The first thing you noticed, peering through your crusty eyelids, was the unfamiliar surroundings. Instead of your small, crapped bed, you were spread out in a large, luxurious one, red flannel draped over you and pulled up to your chin. You groaned and crawled out of the soft prison, coming to your feet in the middle of the sparse room. It was an average sized room, populated only by the bed, a dresser, and multiple posters, as well as the open door into the dark bathroom and what you assumed was the door into the hallway. You walked over to the closed drapes, yanking them open. It felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on your head as you stared forlornly at the iron bars. They were small and thin; from the outside, you may not even not even realize they were there to keep you from escaping. 

The thin, dull light of the mid-morning streamed in, illuminating the walls in bits and pieces. It was then you saw the posters. The walls were lined in posters featuring your favorite films and bands. How were you in a room seemingly decorated to match your interests? Whatever the reason, you didn’t care to find out. Mind made up and thoroughly creeped out, you strode over to the door- or at least, you tried. It was then you noticed the thin leather band connecting your left wrist to the bedpost. You were stuck.

The door creaked open, and Bruce Wayne peeked in. “Oh, you’re up!” He exclaimed, giving you a small smile. He closed the door, approaching you and bringing you in for a hug. “I’m so glad to finally have you in my arms, sweetheart, but I understand you have questions, so why don’t we sit down?” He gestured to the bed and the both of you sat.

“Listen, Mr. Wayne-”

“Bruce, you can call me Bruce,” he interrupted, looking hopeful.

“Mr. Wayne,” you continued, pushing past his weak interruptions. “Listen, I’m really sorry that I took your money, but I promise I’ll pay you back… Just please let me go!” You begged, tearing up. All you needed was to get out.

He sighed, looking off through the window. He was weirdly buff, now that you thought about it. He didn’t look like he would fill out his t-shirt as much as he did, muscles straining against it; on tv he always looked lean and tall, though it turned out he was built more like a boxer than a runner, like you had assumed. Bruce started talking, snapping you out of your reverie. As he talked, his face slackened slightly, losing that almost too bright smile and shifting into a quieter, more authentic expression.

“We aren’t going to hurt you- you’re part of this family now. I don’t mind about the money, in fact, I’d gladly give you as much as you could take; it was all worth it to get to meet you. But you have to work with us, sweetheart. We can’t be the only ones making effort. You’re going to have to stay here until we can trust you, at least…” He continued, starting directly into your eyes and searching for your reaction.

You shivered at the intensity of his expression. “What… what do you need from me?” All you could hope is that you wouldn’t have to sell your soul to save your skin. Scenarios filled with violence and pain flashed through your head almost faster than you could react. 

“Just be patient with us, and don’t shut us out, and it’ll be okay. Like I said, we won’t hurt you, we just want to see you happy.” As long as it was with them, you finished mentally.

All you had to do was trick them into thinking that you weren’t a threat, and then you could escape at the first opportunity. That’s all you had to do.

How hard could it be? After all, even though he was definitely stronger than you were expecting, it was still Brucey Wayne, the man who confused a duck and a chicken and who thought a banana cost $100… It couldn’t be too difficult to trick him. 

At least, that’s what you were hoping.

[idk6123]

Abusive And Loving (Soldier Boy X Male Reader)

Long before The Seven, there was another superhero group, Payback. And although they appeared grandiose with their god-like strength, like every superhero group, secrets lurked behind the scenes. The Seven weren’t the first to have these secrets. At least Payback appeared to have things under control, back in 1980. That’s what the public thought, at least—not the members of Payback.

As the entire team stood frozen, their teammate, Black Noir, had just been beaten to the floor. But that didn’t stop Soldier Boy, who continued pounding on his teammate. While everyone was too scared to intervene, one person wasn’t.

“That’s enough!”

Soldier Boy was shocked when his arm was pulled back right before he could kick Black Noir again, with Noir spitting blood. The leader turned to see his teammate, Chrono, also known as Y/N—the man who could manipulate time itself.

Soldier Boy yanked his arm back and glared. “Don’t fucking interfere!”

Just as he was about to throw a punch at Y/N, the time manipulator casually dodged. Enraged, Soldier Boy kept trying to punch him. But no matter how many punches he threw, Y/N dodged every one. Sometimes it took effort, but mostly it was effortless, which only annoyed Soldier Boy more.

“I can just rewind everything. Stop trying to hit me.”

Despite Y/N’s logic, Soldier Boy kept going. It got to the point where he chased Y/N out of their hideout and into an empty park in the dead of night. Even as time passed, Soldier Boy’s anger didn’t subside.

As he charged into the park, searching for Y/N, he ran past a tree—only to get smacked by a branch. Falling to the ground, Soldier Boy quickly looked up, his face stinging with pain, and saw the culprit.

“Holy fucking shit—how many times do we need to do this!?” Y/N sounded annoyed. “You always try to hit me, but you can’t, and you know fucking why!”

“Then stop rewinding and let me beat the shit outta you!” Soldier Boy shouted, standing up, ready to fight again.

“Oh my—I'm going to try something...” Y/N muttered.

Right before Soldier Boy could strike, Chrono touched him. The soldier froze completely, suspended in time. Though he could look around, listen, and breathe, he couldn’t move. When he tried to talk, all he could manage were muffled hums.

“Oh, cool, my stasis works.” Y/N said, sounding surprised. Soldier Boy tried to glare at him, but it was futile. “Anyway, I’m fucking done with you trying to beat me into a pulp, so I’ll give you a couple of options. One, I can kill you. Two, I can turn you into a child or something and raise you right. Three, we can talk, like… actual adults are supposed to do. …Dunno about a fourth.” Soldier Boy merely stared at him, not that he had much choice. “Right, you can’t answer. Just… hum the number of times for the option you want.”

After some hesitation, Soldier Boy gave up his pursuit of beating Y/N and hummed three times.

“Finally…” Y/N muttered as he removed the stasis, causing Soldier Boy to fall to the ground. “If this is some trick, I swear—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Soldier Boy stood up. Though he wasn’t trying to fight anymore, he was still pissed.

“Okay, that’s an improvement.” Y/N said casually. “Look, I’m gonna make this easier for you. Since you’re not a talker—clearly, may I add—I know a few things about processing your emotions.”

Soldier Boy groaned. “Please shut up.”

“We can go on a road trip.” Soldier Boy looked annoyed as Y/N listed out suggestions. “We can paint or do some kind of creative outlet—really fun, by the way. Uhm… a rage room, but I think we’d need a rage building for you.”

“You’re making this really hard to not beat you.” The soldier shamelessly commented.

“Fine, fine. Uhh… alcohol and drugs probably aren’t good. Oh, how about sex?”

Soldier Boy stared at Y/N, trying to read if he was joking or not. “I hope you’re not saying we should fuck.”

“Why not?” Y/N replied nonchalantly.

“I’m not a faggot.”

“Yeah, and every rich guy says that too until they go on a business trip with their ‘friends.’”

Soldier Boy sighed, looking around to make sure no one was nearby. When he looked back at his teammate, he saw a smirk. Resigning to his frustration, the soldier unbuckled his pants and got ready to take them down.

“Get those fucking pants off.”

-

Ever since that day, Soldier Boy’s and Chrono’s relationship evolved into something more than just teammates. Although it wasn’t official, they formed a bond that was more than just hook-up partners. While Soldier Boy didn’t notice it, Chrono did.

During their stay in a war zone, the team holed up in a hotel. Feeling his usual anger, Soldier Boy sought comfort beyond beating someone down. After some fun minutes, he and Y/N lay under the sheets, completely naked. Feeling slightly relieved, Soldier Boy grabbed a cigarette and began smoking.

“Wasn’t the sex good enough?”

Soldier Boy glanced back with a smirk. “You could be more… licky.”

Y/N chuckled. “Next time I lick your pistol, soldier.” The brunette chuckled again, taking another drag from his cigarette. That’s when the other hero leaned closer, looking more serious. “…Do you notice we’ve been spending more time together?”

Soldier Boy looked intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I… I feel like I see you differently. Instead of that maniac who beats his teammates, I see you as a troubled man… that also beats his teammates.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Soldier Boy asked, genuinely interested rather than angry.

“Yeah.”

Soldier Boy raised an eyebrow. “Well, what is that supposed to mean? Out with it.”

“I… I feel like we’re a couple.” The soldier looked surprised, while Y/N seemed a bit nervous—a rare sight. That meant one thing.

“You didn’t rewind this before.”

“Yeah… this is the first try to tell you how I feel…” Y/N admitted, expecting Soldier Boy to be angry, but instead, he just looked intrigued. “I’m okay if you don’t feel this way, but…”

“You love me?” Soldier Boy asked bluntly.

“…Yeah, I guess.”

Soldier Boy hummed, taking another drag before speaking. “Look, I’m okay with this whole hooking-up thing, but I’m not a faggot.” He then glared at Y/N. “Not a fucking joke.”

“I wasn’t.”

Sensing Y/N’s sincerity, Soldier Boy eased up slightly. “It’s not that I hate this. It’s just wrong to be with another man. I get that things are more accepting, but… I’m not supposed to be… this.”

Y/N hummed quietly. “You haven’t said what you really feel.” Soldier Boy wondered what he meant. “…You only said how society views this, not how you feel.”

Soldier Boy stared at Y/N, thinking for a while before answering. “I can’t promise you anything. I don’t want a relationship where we hold hands while walking, or I take you out to the movies, or we get married and everyone’s there to see it.”

“You still haven’t said how you really feel.”

Letting out a sigh, Soldier Boy wished Y/N would stop questioning him. “Look, it’s not fucking easy. Just because I want to be with you doesn’t mean we fucking can!”

While Y/N flinched, he soon calmed down. “You want to be with me…”

The soldier breathed deeply as he calmed down. “I guess…” With hesitation, he moved his hand to Y/N’s face, touching it gently. “This stays fucking between us. If you ever tell anyone—”

“You kill me. Fair.” Y/N smiled softly. “So… we’re a couple, Ben?”

Benjamin eventually cracked a smile. “Couple is a strong word… but, if you say we’re a couple, I won’t argue.”

-

A year has passed, during which Y/N and Ben often went on business trips that doubled as romantic getaways. Today, Chrono has a surprise for his lover. Inside the car, Y/N is driving while his boyfriend’s eyes are covered with a towel.

“When you said my eyes had to be covered, I thought we were doing something freaky.” Soldier Boy comments with a smirk. “Or that it was taking you this long to get to the freaky part.”

“Nothing weird. You just have to wait and see the surprise.”

As the trip continues, Soldier Boy smiles carefree, alongside his partner. Wearing something casual, it feels like one of the rare times they’re just normal people.

A couple of minutes later, they arrive at their destination. Y/N helps Ben out of the car. The soldier instantly feels grass beneath his shoes. As they walk, Ben begins to guess what the surprise could be.

“All right, we’re here.” Y/N says with excitement.

“Finally.”

“Now, three… two… one…”

The blindfold is removed. Ben now sees a big farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Despite the isolation, the place feels peaceful. There aren’t any farm animals or crops yet, but the house looks like it has potential.

“Don’t tell me we’re going to be farmers.” Ben says.

Y/N chuckles. “Even better.” He steps in front of his partner, holding up a set of house keys.

Shocked, Soldier Boy doesn’t know what to say. “You bought a house?”

“I bought a house for us.” Y/N responds with a smirk while Ben still looks stunned. “Somewhere peaceful, so we don’t get bothered by anyone anymore.”

“You’re thinking about retiring?” Soldier Boy already sounds hesitant.

“No. This is just our getaway place.” Y/N looks back at the large farmhouse with a smile. “Just… somewhere we can go to pretend the world isn’t shit. I don’t expect us to come here every day, but… once in a while… it could be fun.”

As Y/N looks back, Ben relaxes a bit. “And here I thought you wanted us to retire, get married, grow old, and start a family.”

Chrono chuckles. “Maybe later.” He places the keys into his partner’s hand and holds it. “I get that you’re still struggling with being with another man. And… I’m proud of you for handling it so well. But I still want to feel like we’re a normal couple.” Soldier Boy listens closely as his boyfriend shares his thoughts. “So… can we at least try to act like a normal couple?”

“You say that, but who’s going to act like the wife between us?” Ben asks. “I’m not one to cook for others.”

“We’ll both be the husband, dumbass.” Y/N laughs. “Well, guess we’re boyfriends for now.”

Ben raises an intrigued eyebrow. “For now?”

Y/N sighs. “You know what I mean.”

Ben chuckles. “Fine. If it makes you happy, let’s stay here for a couple of days.”

“Thanks.” Y/N says with a genuine smile.

-

When nighttime arrives, the couple is watching TV. Feeling cheesy, they’re watching TV shows and movies featuring Payback. With popcorn on Y/N’s lap, they’re spooning while eating from the bowl. Dressed in sweats, they feel comfortable and relaxed.

“You’re a great singer.” Y/N comments.

“Thanks.” Soldier Boy replies. “And you’re a great actor.”

“Yeah, but I kinda had a bad attitude behind the scenes. Made sure to kill those damn directors before rewinding back.” Y/N laughs, taking another handful of popcorn. “Kinda wish it could be like this every day.” He looks back at his lover. “I know we’ve got jobs as heroes, but… maybe retiring isn’t so bad.”

“I get that.” Ben says, feeling completely comfortable. “Out here, I can just be myself.”

As the couple smiles lovingly at each other, staring into one another’s eyes, Ben suddenly has something to say.

“Maybe one day, we can get married and just… live here.”

Y/N’s smile grows. “For someone who didn’t want to admit we’re a couple, you sure grew out of that.”

“I’m serious!” Ben laughs. “I… really like where we are and where we’re heading.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Ben says confidently. He then gets an idea. Standing up from the couch, causing some leftover popcorn to spill onto the floor, the soldier gets down on one knee.

Y/N looks a bit surprised. “Ben, what are you doing?”

“Y/N, I know getting married to another man isn’t legal, but fuck the details. What we can do is get married illegally or something. You’ll be my husband, and I’ll be yours. We’ll live our lives in secret, but at least we’ll be married.”

As Y/N smiles, the soldier knows what his answer will be.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Y/N quickly pulls his fiancé into a hug, which Ben happily returns.

“Fuck!” Y/N exclaims.

“What?”

“You didn’t get me a ring!”

Ben chuckles. “I’ll buy you one later.”

As they stop hugging, the brunette kisses his fiancé. No matter how bad things might get with Payback, they know they’ll always have each other.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

Okay, nobody does this because they want to be friends.

It smells like new carpet in here. Eddie looks around his new bedroom, all his stuff is there. It’s all neat, orderly. There are curtains hung, the bed is made with new sheets, his books are on the shelf and salvaged records all neat. Even his sweetheart is hung on a shiny new mount on the wall.

“Steve would, he’s a really good guy.”

Billy doesn’t answer, but Eddie can feel the look he has on his face. Well. If Billy had a face at the moment – well. It’s kind of complicated.

Eddie sets out his meds in a neat line on the dresser – only a few more days to go and he’ll be free of those too. He can hear Steve rattling around in the kitchen and heads down the hall to check on him. He’s putting something in the oven, “it’s jut a casserole thing, but there’ll be enough left over for Wayne and I figured you’d probably want to eat and get some rest?”

“Yeah, sounds...really good. Thanks, Steve. I really like, appreciate you doing all this, my room, bringing my stuff, visiting, the ride from the hospital, you know, all of it. I just...had to say it, it means a lot, you know.”

Steve smiles at him, twisting the towel he’s holding into a long rope, “I...it’s no problem.”

You’re doing that thing again. The staring at each other thing again.

No we’re not.

You literally are – and by the way he just looked at your mouth.

Eddie huffs a laugh, can’t help it really, and Steve does the same and looks away and...okay. Steve is blushing. Even Eddie can see that.

“Stay for dinner?”

“I made it for you and Wayne -”

Eddie shrugs, “there’ll be enough, maybe we can add something to it?”

“Okay I’ll – yeah. I’ll see if there’s anything in the-”

“I can help-”

“You should sit, you should be resting-”

This is painful.

“You’re a guest.”

“Eddie,” Steve stands with his hands on his hips, Eddie raises his hands in surrender, but goes to sit at the table so he can still see Steve.

“So...you watched the game with Wayne?”

“Oh, yeah, it was pretty good.”

Ask him how it went and I guarantee you I can get him to kiss you by bed time.

Eddie feels his face flame, knows he’s flushed red, tries to hide it behind his hair as he nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Here, man, don’t die,” and Steve puts a glass of water on the table in front of him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he does.

Don’t say shit like that.

In his head, Billy is laughing hysterically.

You really think he likes me?

Yeah man, I really think he likes you. You are gay though, right?

Uhm. Yeah.

Well you don’t sound so sure there.

Well I’ve never, you know.

Man I am literally the ghost of a dead dude living in your head, who the fuck am I going to tell?

In the kitchen, Steve starts humming as he peels potatoes.

I’ve never done anything, with anyone. Ever. So pretty sure I am but I’ve never, you know, tested it.

Huh.

Limited options, you know? Also, not exactly the most desirable, you know, reputation, I guess.

Doesn’t seem to be putting Harrington off.

What about you?

What about me?

Well, I mean, say, hypothetically, I kiss a dude...we are kind of cohabiting here, would that...bother you?

Aw, sweetheart, cute of you to ask...Nah, I swing either way. Eddie nearly chokes on his water, and Billy laughs. I mean, not been with a dude since I left Cali, you’re damn right about the limited options thing. But yeah, I’m not fussy, getting off is getting off, and I figure if I can taste your food and feel it when you scratch your ass...Besides, we’re walking around in your body, no ones calling me a faggot, I’m dead.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Sorry, what?”

In the kitchen, Steve is putting potatoes on to boil, Eddie clears his throat, “I said, so tell me about that Pacers game you watched with Wayne?”

Steve smiles, big and bright, “you really want to know?”

Say you could listen to him all day.

“Yeah, if it’s you talking I could...I could listen all day.”

Steve smiles, then sort of looks away and fiddles with his hair before he comes over to the table. If anything Eddie would say he looks suddenly shy.

Bingo.

“Well, they beat the Celtics a couple of days ago, a hundred and sixteen to a hundred and nine, so they were fresh off a fair win and it showed. Absolutely smashed the Nets, a hundred and twenty three to ninety nine. Fleming and Stipanovich both made really decent showings…”

Part Six

[libraryofloveletters]

Bound By Fate

Jenson Button x Fem!Teammate Reader

series summery: the strings of life connect two people; teammates, friends, perhaps lovers. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of him, the strings of life pull you back in. some things are just meant to be. 

author's note: this was prompted by god knows what but this is my new passion project. jenson girlies, this one is for you. shoutout to @mev33 for losing her mind over this with me <333

bound by fate taglist!

chapter one: united front

attached at the hip, jenson button and y/n l/n are the unstoppable duo. the same soul in two bodies. all but 4 points separating them. // “where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I’d never be me without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand and we’ll stand.” - Skyfall by Adele

chapter two: time cast a spell on you

spending nine months with someone is a long time, especially when you’re forced to be with them. feelings grow, both good and bad.  - “Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have I loved you but you would not let me. I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice can haunt you. Oh give it just a chance. You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you.” - Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac  

chapter three: the blame is on you

two mclarens spin out, drivers at each other’s throat but only one’s to blame. what’s said on track doesn’t always stay there. - “It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world.” - Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tear For Fear 

chapter four: no grace

jenson can’t take it anymore; the back stabbing, the betrayal. he did what he thought was best and left. on what was supposed to be the happiest night of y/n’s life, she’s heartbroken and upset. — “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me, but it kills you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears and you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossing out the good years and you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed.” -  My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift 

chapter five: the final tango

y/n and jenson find themselves front and centre, smiling for the cameras in their sunday bests, yet their hearts are in different places. - “it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. I’ve done the math, there’s no solution. We’ll never last. Why can’t I let go of this?” -  Promise by Laufey 

chapter six: secrets of us

when all is said and done, it’s never really over, is it? jenson spills far too much in a tell-all interview that back fires on both he and y/n. - “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man. And the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you and you know that it means so much, and you don’t even feel a thing.” -  Duvet by Bôa

chapter seven: a chapter of me

four long years have passed, both y/n and jenson are in different places of life but they find themselves at Silverstone, together once again. jenson’s a commentator and y/n’s still a racer. seems the dust has settled. - “Just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. We can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again.” -  We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande 

chapter eight: a glimpse into the past

people come and go, life moves on; that has always been your view. you can’t move on when your past comes back to haunt you. -  “So I ask myself, do I let you go or do I keep you in the frame of my mind? Now I’m growing wise to your sugar coated lies, nothing’s sweet about my misery. Yeah, I finally found what went wrong, i finally found the wrong in you.” - On My Mind by Jorja Smith

chapter nine: twelve steps forward, one step back

the final race of your life, mixed emotions truly. your career was one out of a movie, you’re waiting for the final shoe to drop and when it does, it hits you hard. - “Isn’t it strange? I am still me, you are still you, in the same place. Isn’t it strange how people can change from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?” - Strange by Celeste

epilogue - chapter ten: the last bow

life post retirement is a funny thing, you thought you’d be having fun but you’re bored out of your mind. a solo trip results in seeing a ghost from your past.  -  “I'm sure we're taller in other dimension, you say we’re small and not worth a mention. You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’. We could vacay, there’s places to go. Clearly this isn’t all that there is, can’t take what’s been given. But we’re so okay here, we’re doing fine.” - White Ferrari by Frank Ocean 

[thesassypadawan]

Prove It (Knight Anakin x PadawanFemReader)

Summary: Unbearable, painful, soul crushing. That’s it felt like after closing off your bond with Anakin. It wasn’t a decision you made lightly, only doing so after you caught him running around with a certain little senator. However you are willing to reopen it, but only if he can prove that he does indeed want you more.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Cheating Anakin, makeup sex…and Ani’s big dick. Padawan Reader is of age.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for a lovely anonymous! I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure!  I know it's like only a hint of angst in here, but I tried my best (still learning how to write for it). Hope you like it! ❤️

The sound of knocking filled you shared quarters, startling you out of your restless slumber. It wasn’t completely uncommon for you to struggle with sleeping; some nights were better than others. Tonight, or rather the past couple of nights, though had been the worst yet.

Unbearable, painful, soul crushing. Were just a few ways to describe how it felt. How it felt to be completely closed off from someone through the force. Someone who you cared for deeply, someone you thought was…

Not caring that you were only in a certain someone’s oversized tunic, you quickly made your way to the door. Knowing fully well who you would find on the other side.

A mix of emotions ran through you as you were greeted by the sight of a very disheveled looking Anakin. His face was red, eyes puffy. Tear tracks shining in the faint corridor lights. It seemed like you weren’t the only one who couldn’t get any rest…good.

Leaning against the frame, you crossed your arms across your chest. Gaze hardened, voice cold. “What do you want, Skywalker?”

“I… I, um…” The great hero without fear stuttered, cowering a bit before you. His hands twitching and trembling at his sides.

Noticing this, you had taken a step back. You didn’t need a bond to know what he wanted to do; to scoop you up in his arms and hold you close. And as much as you desired to give in, you refuse to do so. “I’ll ask again… What do you want, Skywalker?”

Despite your actions, he still reached out for you. Long fingers tentatively grazing and touching your side, before you slapped them away. “Fine,” he sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping. “I came here to talk to you…to try to make things right. Please…can I come in?”

You should have turned him away right then and there. But he looked so lost, so pathetic…you just couldn’t. “All right,” you huffed, stepping aside. “Get in here, don’t need you attracting unwanted attention.”

Ani perked up a bit and gave a small nod. “Thanks,” he muttered, quickly dipping inside.

The scene was all too familiar. Him sneaking into your shared quarter late at night. You both trying to contain your enthusiasms while you snuck off to your room. Hoping your master would remain in his deep slumber or, in instances like this, grateful to have him away on some kind of solo mission.

However, one thing was different…

“I’m surprised you’re here,” you said spitefully, closing the door behind you. “Shouldn’t you be at your precious, little senator’s apartment?”

You watched him flinch, your words clearly having the effect you hoped they would have. “No,” he replied, placing his big hands on your arms. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh, really? Is that so?” You laughed, a hint of mockery in your tone. “If that’s the case, then why did you go somewhere else? Why did you feel the need to go run off to another woman’s bed, when you had a perfectly good one here?”

His hold on you tightened and he let out a shaky breath. “Okay, I deserved that. You have to hear me out though…please. Please?”

There were so many things you wished to say, to yell. Instead you just stood there; staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

When you didn’t reply, Anakin leaned down a bit. Brushing his lips across yours, whispering softly. “Hatari, I made a huge mistake. I don’t want her, only you. I love-”

“Prove it,” you boldly interrupted, a fiery glint in your eyes. “Show me right now and…I’ll consider reopening the bond.”

Silence fell between you two, the air grew heavy with tension and underlying lust. He was so close; you could feel his hot breath fanning over your face. Lips inches away from one another. “With pleasure,” he chuckled.

Giving you a chaste kiss, he pulled away. You were about to whine in protest, so touched starved, when he slipped out of his robes. Cock springing forth, wonderfully hard and deliciously leaking. That smug smirk on his face.

In an instant, Ani had hooked his strong arms under your thighs. Squeezing them, hiking them up onto his hips. Wrapping them tightly around his waist, pressing you firmly against the door.

Crashing your lips together, you kissed each other hungerly. Your hand reaching and fumbling to position his fat tip at your dripping entrance. “No panties? Were you expecting me, angel?”

“Shut up,” you growled in his ear. “And just kriff me already.”

“Maker you’re sexy when you’re angry,” he groaned. Pushing his impressive length into you, both of you moaning and hissing in unison.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails frantically scratching. As he pounded your needy cunt over and over. Grip nearly painful, fingers digging into and bruising your subtle flesh.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air while he slammed into you. Desperate mewls escaped you from him hitting that perfect, toe-curling spot. The coil in your stomach only winding tighter with each passing moment. “Faster… Kriff… Harder… Going to… Kriff…”

Spurred on by your encouraging words, Anakin’s thrusts grew sloppier. Invisible fingers drawing circles on your clit, trying to coax your orgasm out of you. “M-Me too,” he grunted, face buried in the crook of your neck. “Let go; let it all out f-for me.”

That’s all it took, and you were sent spiraling. Waves of pleasure washing over you. Whole body convulsing around him. Making him crash, spilling his hot cum deep inside you. All that pent up energy finally getting released.

You two stayed like that for a minute or two. Catching your breath, foreheads pressed together. Sighing in relief and happiness as your bond reopened.

“Missed you,” you giggled.

“Missed you too,” he laughed softly. “Forgive me?”

A wide, slightly twisted grin spread across your face. “Of course, Ani. But just know, if I ever see you with that little senator again… I’ll have to make you ‘prove it’ in a more aggressive way.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[sl-newsie]

I Spy (Dr. Spencer Reid x Childhood Best Friend)

Request! Could you do a Spencer x childhood best friend? Basically, a mrdr happens to someone close to the bff and when the bau team comes to help she realizes she still has feelings for what she thought was just a childhood crush and Reid realizes the same. Ta-da!

Wrongful death. Such a wrongful death.

“Ma’am, can you please look at me?” The police officer asks again. “I know you’re still coming out of shock. There are some people here who are going to help you out, okay? They’re going to ask you some questions.”

Such a wrongful death. How can something this gruesome ever happen at a law firm? I mean, the most danger I’d face was an angry client throwing staplers at me. But this? A homicidal stabbing? Right in front of me?

“Ma’am? Are you Jackie Selenski?” A deeper voice asks.

I look up from where I’m sitting on the edge of the ambulance. The twilight sun sinks below the horizon, casting shadows on the tall man in front of me. I immediately can tell he’s a government agent, and a leader too. 

“Are you Jackie Selenski?” He asks again.

I give a shaky nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Agent Hotchner, FBI.” He holds up a badge. “I’m from the BAU. We’re here to investigate the murder of Maggie Hoffman. We were told you witnessed the crime?”

Maggie. Poor Maggie. Not even a year into the job and she got to deal with a psychopathic client. 

“Y-Yes, sir. My desk is next to hers. She- She was handling a client when they- they… Uh!”

My chest squeezes up again as the memory of the splattering blood plays through my mind once more. I gasp for breath and clench my fists again. Maggie… She never stood a chance…

“Excuse me! Coming through!”

That’s not…? It can’t be-

“Jackie!” A familiar voice gasps and suddenly I spy an anxious pair of curious brown eyes.

“Spencer?” My shaking jaw drops and I look him over to make sure it’s him. “You’re here too?”

It is him! That other guy said BAU, so of course the best profiler I know is going to be here. Good ‘ol Dr. Reid, my oldest friend since college. Of course he was graduating by the time I started but that didn’t stop us from being friendly. And now he’s here… to ask me about a murder.

“You’re alright, Jackie?” The lanky agent asks softly and examines me for injuries.

“I- I’m fine, Spencer.” I attempt to form a smile. “It- It’s good to see you.”

Spencer sees I’m trying to hide the mental pain and grips my shoulders for a small hug. “I’m so happy it wasn’t you that got hurt. When we took the case and the victim had no name yet I feared the worst.”

Aw, Spencer. I know he doesn’t like physical contact. He doesn’t have to do this just for me-

“Hey, brainiac! You know this one?” A new voice calls from across the parking lot.

Spencer stiffens and we both look over at the smirking agent, who’s being approached by two female agents.

“Shut up, Morgan!” A dark-haired one hisses.

“Let’s go!” The blonde one orders and starts tugging him away.

Oh thank God I’m not being questioned by anyone new. My family’s over three hours away and I really need someone I know. Thank God for Spencer.

“Sorry about him,” the geek apologizes. “I’m just not usually overly involved with trauma victims.”

I nod repeatedly, still relying on Spencer’s warm embrace to keep my thoughts together. If only our long-awaited reunion wasn’t on such dark matters. He looks good… Really good. Another kick at my dumb decision to stay behind while he pursued a career out East. 

“What questions did Hotch already ask you?”

I shake away my gripping nostalgia. “Huh?”

“Oh, I mean, Agent Hotchner?”

“Right. Um… He asked about how I knew Maggie. What I saw…” I shutter. “Is there anything I can say that will help you catch him?”

Spencer pulls back but still keeps his hands grounded on me. “Deep breath Jackie, in and out. I want you to think back to that moment and try to remember if you saw anything out of the ordinary. Keep calm, I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

Deep breathes. Close my eyes. Um… I’m holding the paperwork for next week’s trial. I’m walking back from the break room… Maggie’s talking to someone. She’s wearing a pink cardigan. There’s her Looney Toons mug on the desk. The client- It’s a man. Wearing gray pants and a sweatshirt. A short, skinny man with pale skin and-

“Tattoo,” I mutter distantly. “He has a black tattoo on his neck. A symbol of sorts. A sword.”

“Very good, Jackie,” Spencer praises. “Can you see anything else?”

I’m almost to my desk. Maggie’s stopped talking. Why does she look scared? Is that a-?!

“Uh!” I inhale sharply and squeeze Spencer’s hand again. “Blood! He- He had a knife! Not a kitchen knife- A- A bigger knife! With a white handle!”

My body starts shaking again and Spencer rests my head on his chest. “Okay, okay. Very good, Jackie. Breathe with me, okay? In and out. We’re going to catch him, I promise.”

“It- It could’ve been me,” I whisper through a few raining tears. “It should have been me. Maggie didn’t deserve-”

“Jackie,” Spencer cuts me off and cups my face to make me look at him. “Jackie, don’t blame yourself. There’s nothing anyone could have done. Don’t wish death on yourself. Please.”

Another rush of grief and nostalgia tugs at my chest and throughout these conflicting emotions I’m reminded of how good it feels to have Spencer here again. He still wears the same cologne. Still the same good soul I remember. The same man I still love.

“Excuse me?” A paramedic walks up and looks at the heart monitor I’m connected to. “How are you feeling?”

Spencer doesn’t move when I answer. “I’m not injured. Just… A little shocked. I’m alright, I swear.”

The paramedic enters some notes into his iPad and removes the heart device. “Medically you should be set to go. As for the authorities…?” He looks at Spencer.

“She’s all done,” the agent assures.

“Excellent. Now, if you experience anything abnormal in the next few days please call us.” The paramedic hands me a card. “Here is a list of numbers for trauma and therapy centers. You may not think you need them but I highly recommend it.”

“As do I,” Spencer agrees and gives me a determined stare.

“Fine,” I reply quickly and exit the ambulance, allowing the paramedic to pack up and leave.

“I’ll take you back to your apartment,” Spencer offers. “Or would you feel safer at the police station?”

Safer. Why would I need to be in a safe spot? Maggie was the victim and there’s no reason for the killer to come after me. If anything, being surrounded by a police environment will just make my stress worse.

“No, no. My place is fine,” I murmur as we head towards a parked police SUV. “I’m renting a house now.”

“You moved up in the world, huh?” Spencer jokes lightly as we climb in.

A smile escapes me. “Looks like you did too, brainiac.”

He rolls his eyes and starts driving. “Oh no, not you too!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stick to Spencer,” I tease, starting to let go of the weight pushing on my chest as the office gets further away. “Are you going to be in town for a while?”

“It depends on how long it takes to catch the unsub. I think we’re planning on staying at a hotel not too far from here, actually.”

“If you want you’re more than welcome to stay in my spare bedroom.”

Who whoa, slow down Jackie! You just got back in touch with your best friend crush! Don’t get overexcited.

“Or at least come over for breakfast tomorrow,” I add nonchalantly. “I’d like to think you owe me some stories after four years of you gallivanting off on FBI adventures while I’m stuck in an office.”

Spencer cracks a smile and turns onto my street. “It’s a date- deal!” He re-words quickly. “It’s a deal. You won’t mind if I stay?”

I look over the fact that he said ‘date’ and immediately reject his cautiousness about imposing.

“Of course not. There’s plenty of blankets to go around. And… I don’t think I can be alone tonight. This one’s me.”

We pull into the driveway in front of my house and Spencer reaches over for my small hand.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll try therapy. Something. Anything. I know you, Jackie. I know you think it’s a waste of time.”

“Yes. Because why would I tell a complete stranger about how I just had to watch my sweet coworker die? That may seem fine to some but not to me, Spencer.” I give a deep sigh. “But, I will do it for you. One month only.”

“That’s all I’ll ask for,” he pleads.

I wish I could talk to him instead. But he has his own job to worry over instead of acting as my therapist. I’m lucky enough to have him back for a few days.

“Come on in,” I gesture as I open the front door. “It’s not much but it’s better than my old apartment.”

“It’s nice!” Spencer compliments as he takes in the small kitchen connected to the cozy living room. “You still have the Star Wars posters I gave you.”

Still as much of a nerd as I am. As I dig out more blankets and prepare the spare bed I can’t help but ponder the thought of Spencer having a girlfriend. He’d tell me if he did… Wouldn’t he? He obviously still cares for our friendship and trusts me enough to sleep at my place. Surely relationship news shouldn’t be off the table. So… Does he have anyone?

“Here you go.” I hand over the blankets. “Bathroom’s down the hall, my bedroom’s that door over there if you need anything. My cat Angelica’s hiding around here somewhere in case you hear any weird noises.” I take a quick moment to give him one last hug. “It’s been a blessing having you here, Spencer. Out of all the cops I could’ve talked to, I'm glad it was you. Are you sure your boss won’t mind you being here?”

He waves it off. “No. Hotch won’t mind if it’s related to the case. Plus it means there’s one less person to room with at the hotel. Morgan should like that.”

The recollection of the snickering agent makes me smile. “He seemed… outspoken.”

Spencer groans and sits down on the bed. “You have no idea.”

I give a small wave. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Jackie.”

I really must be in shock. Or grieving. Either way I cannot stop thinking about poor Maggie. It’s already been an hour and I’m no closer to sleeping at all. After another half hour of tossing and turning it’s time to give up. Maybe a little distraction is called for. In ten minutes I am joined by Angelica and have set up my laptop at the kitchen table. So these files go to Dorothy’s department, and these one’s to Scott-

“I spy with my little eye…” Spencer’s quiet voice rings out. “Someone who should be sleeping.”

He steps out of the shadows and I can’t hide my sheepish smile. Of course he figured I’d be awake. Also how is it he still remembers our running joke of I Spy?

“It’s been years since we played that game,” I chuckle and close my laptop. “Couldn’t sleep. Had to get away from it all. I’ve got files to look over.”

Spencer walks over and takes a seat next to me. Even in his sleep clothes he still manages to look adorably smart. He reaches for my hand, a gesture that seems to be becoming a routine for him.

“You’re grieving, Jackie. You should rest. Take some time off of work.”

“Work is how I get away from it all. Pathetic, right?”

His brow furrows. “You never make plans?”

“How can I?” I gush and gesture to the mountain of paperwork. “This job keeps me busy enough. Besides, who'd want to put up with this?”

Spencer pushes my chair away from the table so I’m completely facing him. “Jackie, I know what it’s like to have work be your only outlet. Please, let me help. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other but I do still care for you. I don’t like seeing you stressed out like this.” 

Oh, bless this sweet man. It feels like a pinch of fate that it was his team that came to investigate the murder. But that’s just the thing. He’s here for work. If Maggie hadn’t been killed then I’d still be by myself tonight drinking wine and watching TV with Angelica.

“I spy with my little eye, someone who worries too much.” I tease lightly and slide my hand back. “You have more important things-”

“No.” Spencer reaches for my hand again. “You’re my dearest friend, Jackie. Maybe even more than that. Of course I worry about you.”

This time I don’t ignore his specific wording. “More?”

The brown-eyed geek tightens his grip, looking away and licking his lips as he tries to think of what to say. He’s still awkward around his personal life.

“I- I love you, Jackie. I’ve loved you even before I left for Quantico. I didn’t think you felt the same but-” His speech pattern changes and he starts rambling. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you? I never profiled you did-”

“No, no,” I clarify and that shuts him up. “Spencer, I love you too. I thought you’d be the one to move on and find a special girl.”

His jaw drops and he shakes his head. “You are my special girl, Jackie. I just wish we could have reconnected sooner, without- um-” 

“Without the recent events,” I finish softly. 

How have we gotten so close? It doesn’t matter. The small amount of butterflies in my stomach is triumphed by the joy of admitting my feelings. And Spencer looks just as happy!

“You know, people who have gone through a grieving process have shown to share a strong, bonding relationship for the rest of their lives.”

Spencer’s gentle words bring comfort but what assures me most is when he finally leans in and I feel his lips against mine. At long last, dear friend. Seeing him is the only therapy I need.

“Maybe,” I reply when we break apart. “But I think we already had one.”

Spencer smiles and pulls me in for another hug. “You're right.”

[loveyouprongs]

melting into you

grumpy sirius black x fem!reader

upcoming content: fluff, mentions of massages, mary is kinda a mean girl (sorry!) but only for two sentences

authors note: my first time writing for sirius and i kind of hateeee this but i also wanted to put it out anyway! despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

word count: 3k

masterlist

the chatter of the crowded pub immediately enveloped sirius as he stepped through the door. his body couldn’t decide if the various, loud voices were grating on him or if he was relieved to be able to get lost in the sea of bodies and finally relax after the long day he had. he glanced around the room, eyes falling on his group of friends all sat at their usual table in the corner. a seat was left empty, assumedly for him, and his gut twisted with something unidentifiable (or at least something he was trying very hard not to identify) when he saw your figure in the chair beside it.

you were a friend of james’ from work. well, near james’ work. you owned a little massage parlor, set up right across the street from the rugby field james’ trains at. sirius still remembers the day james first discovered you. james had practically melted into the bar stool, a dopey smile gracing his face.

“you look particularly happy after a day of training, mate,” remus remarked. james did nothing but let out an angelic sigh.

“alert the media lads, i can confirm heaven is real because i was just there,” james exclaimed.

“what the fuck are you on about?” sirius asked, not used to james’ relaxed state, it was… off putting. james was always either full of energy, or absolutely exhausted (from burning off said energy). sirius couldn’t remember the last time he saw his friend so at peace.

“this girl-” james started,

“i hope you showered before you came here then,” sirius quipped.

“not like that you dolt,” james remarked, “this masseuse, more like an angel, she just opened up a practice down the street from the field and my back was fucking aching after practice today so i popped in, and UGH,” james let out an almost pornographic sigh, attracting the attention of the other bar patrons.

“she couldn’t have been that good,” remus said.

“oh, but she is! i already scheduled weekly appointments with her! you guys should check her out, she’s really nice too.”

sirius rolled his eyes, “i think i’ll pass on some middle aged lady rubbing lavender on me, thanks, though.”

“she’s not middle aged, she’s our age! and you could do with some relaxation pads, you’re so bloody tense all the time. remus, you should give her a call,” james said, handing remus a pale purple business card, “she can help you with your joint pain.”

remus looked down at the card skeptically, he’d tried every single ointment, doctor, treatment, you name it, to help fix his, as his friends so nicely called it, “old man bones”, and nothing. but james was looking at remus with wide, pleading eyes and remus conceded, tucking the card into his pocket.

a week later, sirius, james, and everyone were hanging out at lily and marlene’s flat. “where’s remus? i thought he was coming with you,” lily asked sirius.

“beats me, i tried calling him twice this past hour, went straight to voicemail.”

“i know where he is,” james sung.

“oh yeah, where?” lily challenged.

“getting a massage!”

“james, no one likes massages other than you, and it’s becoming creepy,” sirius remarked.

“i don’t care! i bet you fifty, no one hundred, no two hundred pounds, when moony gets here, he’ll be singing her praises!”

“you can find out now,” lily said, as remus stumbled into the living room, the same dopey smile on his face that was on james’ last week.

“no way you went to james’ hippie-dippie massage place,” sirius said, the vanilla aroma coming off remus’ body already wafting through his nose.

“i feel amazing,” remus slurred, flopping onto the couch.

“jesus, you’re acting drunk!” marlene said, a disbelieving smile on her face.

“i feel drunk! like a jellyfish that’s had too much champagne, who can float around the ocean without a care in the world” remus said, staring into space, his grin practically splitting his face.

“i told you! she’s the best, i don’t know how she does it.”

lily and marlene started talking about going to see these “magic hands” for themselves and sirius just grumbled, sinking further into the couch watching remus roll around on the couch like a cat basking in a warm spot of sunlight, and even sirius couldn’t stop his smile, seeing his usually achy and in pain friend so at peace. even if he did look like a drunk jellyfish.

since then, everyone of james’ friends and family have had a session with you, each feeling so much better, physically, and thought you were the nicest girl this side of the city, so when james’ suggested inviting you to pub trivia one night, there were no objections. that night you floated in, a shimmery blue top and long white skirt donning your frame as you greeted everyone, but most you were already familiar with, except for sirius. and unluckily for you, you caught him on a bad day. a really bad day. his head was pounding and ears were ringing from already pulling a double at work, and frankly the scent of eucalyptus that clouded you was making him nauseous.

“hi sirius, it’s nice to meet you,” you spoke softly, the sound of your voice soothing his pounding head involuntarily. he responded with a not friendly, but not unfriendly hum of acknowledgement.

“i fear i don’t know anything about these categories,” you continued, looking at the blackboard above the bar that marked the trivia.

“bad day for you to join us then,” sirius said, and he expected you to take the hint but you just laughed, a tinkling tune floating through the air.

“oi, no it’s not! don’t listen to him, he’s just in a mood,” james assured, glaring at his always grumpy friend.

“i suppose you’re right,” you replied to sirius, your calm smile never faltering despite the now awkward air.

“we lose about half the time anyway,” remus spoke and your eyes visibility relaxed at the outward friendliness.

“oh right! didn’t you tell me that most of your back pain came from carrying the team?”

the group let out an echo of “heys!” at your question to which remus only laughed, “exactly.”

“how are you feeling anyway?”

“much better, that thing you did with my lower back, it really helped.”

“i’m glad,” you responded sweetly, and sirius again felt a pang of gratefulness flow through him towards you, for the relief you brought his best mate. only to be quickly drowned out by the annoyance of the day heightened, multiplied, by your and james’ exuberant energies. both loud, giggly, and for some reason every missed answer that you took in stride, rubbed sirius the wrong way. and don’t even get him started on the adorable ridiculous outfits you wore, made up of colors he’s never even seen before. so as you became a regular in their friend group, he kept his distance. you were nice enough, he’ll give that to you. always saying hello to him and asking how he’s doing, offering him a spot at your practice any time -to which he always declined- despite his standoffish behavior towards you. he already had a james, he didn’t need his twin, he didn’t think he could take it. your seemingly endless energy, joy, ability to talk, so the two of you just never grew close like you did with everyone else.

this didn’t stop the yearning, stomach twisting, desire to awaken whenever you were near. at first sirius thought he was sick. but one night when you were telling a story about an older man you were treating who fell asleep during your session, sirius couldn’t help but bark out a laugh and the pure happiness in your gaze made his heart melt instantly. oh, no. sirius thought, and immediately trained his face back into a neutral expression. but it wasn’t fast enough for james to miss it.

“so, i noticed something tonight,” james said as the two stood on the balcony, each nursing a cig.

“good for you, jamesy, tomorrow go for two things,” sirius replied with a smirk.

“hmm, funny. but i noticed how a certain someone was looking at a certain someone else.”

sirius didn’t dignify him with a response.

“oh, come on padfoot. it’s so obvious that you like her,” james goaded. sirius shot him a look that he hoped was indifference, but he could tell james could see the fear in it. the fear over if he really was being obvious, the fear of being vulnerable.

“i mean, obvious to me, she still thinks you don’t like her a bit,” james responded.

“i like her just fine.”

“i think it’s a little more than that, don’t you?”

“i don’t know what you’re making up in your head,” sirius snapped, taking a long drag, letting the smoke warm his nose as he blew it out.

“okay, so i’m just imagining all your lingering glances at her when she isn’t looking -and you called me a creep when i first met her, might i remind you!- and how you always get extra grumpy when some bloke chats her up at the pub.”

“i do not!” sirius retorted childishly. it was annoying, okay? how you would stand at the edge of the bar, waiting patiently to order a round for the table and men would just flock to you like moths to a flame. sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their corny (and horny) pick up lines, to which you were always too nice about in response. he didn’t understand why someone would put up with that, but you never say an unkind word. it was annoying for that reason, only.

james sighed, stamping out his cigarette, “you just need to let yourself be happy, man, i think you would be really good together,” and with that james went back inside, the sliding glass door not closing soon enough for sirius to not catch your enchanting, tinkling, laugh.

back in the present, sirius let out a sigh, steeling himself for the night. “you made it!” james cried, throwing a tipsy arm around sirius as he sat down.

“happy birthday prongs, packed house, tonight,” sirius said, looking around the table that was more than just his usual friends, peter, thomas, and mary, all here, too. he felt a slight scowl creep up his face, he wasn’t the biggest fan of peter or thomas, and even more so wasn’t so fond of mary. he remembered back in school, she could always be a little stuck up. but she was the only one who could match sirius when it came to alcohol, so she wasn’t so bad to have around for a drink.

“hey sirius,” you spoke softly, your temple resting against your fist.

“hello,” he said back, letting his eyes quickly dance over your form. you were wearing a poofy pink dress that fell to about mid thigh, making you look kind of like a cupcake with legs. he’d love a taste. the thought entered his mind as quickly as he forced it away. the skirt of your dress partially covering a white bag crumpled under your thigh and being squeezed tight with your other hand.

sirius had an array of ready to go answers on the tip of his tongue for your inevitable asking of how his day went. “it was fine.” “not so bad.” “long.” but the question never came. you were staring at the large television screen playing an old recording of a rugby game from the eighties.

“didn’t know you were into rugby,” sirius murmured and it took you a few seconds to realize he was speaking to you.

“oh! oh, not so much, but this one is quite interesting,” you responded simply, eyes shifting back to the screen.

you regularly annoyed sirius, that part was true, but this time it was different. why were you acting so strange? how come the fruity drink in front of you was seemingly untouched? it wasn’t like you to be so… silent.

as the night went by, sirius grew more agitated. did some bloke take it a step too far before he got there? you were definitely present in the conversations being held around the table, never one to be rude, but you didn’t join in like you usually would and sirius noticed you were chewing your bottom lip almost bloody.

“is she your girlfriend or something, sirius?” mary asked as sirius was hanging by the bar, waiting for the boys and his drinks to be ready, eyes still fixed on you as he watched you listen intently to james’ story, the regular glimmer in your eye gone.

“what?” sirius responded, unsure as to when mary even showed up.

“that girl, you keep staring at her,” she said, lips wrapping around her straw as she also cast a glance at you, giving you the once over.

“no. no, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“i figured, i would’ve been really surprised had you said yes,” mary said with a laugh.

“and why’s that?” he hoped the defensiveness in his tone wasn’t noticeable.

a short laugh escaped her, “it would be like dating a child! james meets the oddest people, doesn’t he? before you got here, she was wearing this hat that was quite literally a birthday cake sprouting from her head, oh my god sirius you would’ve died laughing!”

sirius felt a simmering heat rise in his chest. your slumped posture and wilted disposition, the thought that someone was mean to your face, mean enough to make you clammer into a shell he didn’t even know you had.

“bring the drinks over won’t you, mary?” sirius tossed a few pounds on the bar and made his way over to you without looking back.

sirius halted as he stopped right at you, his tall body looming over yours. his feet must have moved faster than his brain because he had no idea what to say to you now, but you hadn’t noticed him there anyway, still absentmindedly nodding along to whatever the group was talking about, leg bouncing anxiously under the table, hand white knuckling what sirius assumed was the hat mary made you feel bad about.

“oi!” he let out, causing you to flinch looking up at him with wide eyes. nice going.

“sor-sorry,” he cleared his throat, “um,”

“are you alright, sirius?” when you say his name he loves the way it sounds.

“yes, i’m alright,” sirius said, soft in a way you didn’t even know could come from him.

you blinked up at him, eyes wide like you were looking at him from inside a fishbowl. “well… that’s good,” you said in response with a slight smile, confused as to why he suddenly started talking to you.

“don’t listen to mary, alright.”

“w-what?”

sirius sighed and plopped himself back into his seat next to yours, and it took everything in you to not look at how his black jeans hugged his thighs, or get lost in the earthy cologne he always wore. you had no clue why sirius and you didn’t click- and some days it irked you to no end, you had been nothing but kind to him, almost desperate for him to

shoot that charming, intoxicating smirk your way- but it seemed he never thought of you twice. (that still didn’t stop your thoughts from wandering to him and what the heat of his body would feel like if you were pressed against his side late at night under the covers.)

“don’t listen to her, okay? can’t stand to see you so… melancholy… its proper annoying,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact. both of you had heated cheeks.

“i’m not melancholy, sirius. i’m just glad i didn’t make a fool out myself,” you laughed awkwardly.

sirius rolled his eyes and twisted so he faced directly towards you, inadvertently caging you in his legs. your dusty pink flowing over his dark denim.

you felt your breath escape you as he fixed you with a look you’d never seen before, his brown eyes swallowing you completely. “you care too much about what people think,” he said astutely.

“what?” you sputtered.

“you need to toughen up.”

“o-okay?”

“you can’t- you can’t just let people push you around or make you feel badly about yourself.” sirius had no idea where he was going with this.

“i- i don’t feel badly about myself,” he could see right through you.

“oh sure, then why have you been sitting here all slumped over and mopey then?”

“i haven’t been mopey!”

“hmph! you literally look like fucking eeyore right now,” sirius quipped with a huff, his natural, sarcastic demeanor coming back to him, coated in flirtation?

you couldn’t hold back a laugh, leaning further into him, “well we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” you asked quietly, biting your lip.

“no. no we wouldn’t. but its too late now,” sirius said, reaching over your leg and snatching the crocheted hat out from under your leg.

“oh!”

sirius shook it out with flare and shoved it on his head, absolutely fueled with glee over making you smile, not having it in him to resist anymore.

“the birthday cake is mine, you’ll have to find your own.”

“you-look-a-maz-ing,” you said, each syllable punctuated by uncontrollable laughter.

“pads!” james gasped with a drunken squeal.

“what?” he grumbled, turning to his friend, his grumpy temperament back as if it never left, but it was impossible to take him seriously with the bright pink, triple tiered cake sitting on his head and his cheeks ruddy with blossoming, crackling chemistry.

“i’m the birthday boy! that should be mine!” james cried, flailing arms reaching to rip it off his head.

“not a chance, potter!” sirius declared, confidently throwing his arm around the back of your chair. he could feel you watching him from the corner of his eye and with wonderment you leaned further into the crook of his arm.

“sorry jamesie, i’ll crochet you your own, promise!”

[siolixz]

~ Veils of Crimson ~

Chapter 2

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

<chapter1> <chapter3> <chapter4> <chapter 5: part 1>

Reader is the daughter of Carmine Falcone and upon her late father's demise, she is obligated to return home after 5 years to face her past. I edited some things, like Sofia being in Arkham only 5 years instead of 10. Hopefully y'all like it, again no smut, remember, good things come to those who wait (not for too long bcs im obsessed with writing about this man ughbhghgy)

Again, I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (not in this chapter sorry AGAIN), general horniness.

“I wanted to tell you that tomorrow night I will be unavailable from 4 PM to 7 PM; your sister has requested me.”

Sofia was a very kind person; that much you knew. Your sister rarely did anything to hurt you or anyone else for that matter. So why on earth would she take Oz away for a few hours? Was she planning on telling him about your feelings? She wouldn’t. Maybe your smartass remarks finally caught up to her, maybe she wanted to teach you a lesson.

No, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Oz is a trustworthy guy, someone your dad depends on to take care of one of his most special treasures: you.

“Why?” you asked. You didn’t mean to make it sound so sharp; you weren’t mad, really, just curious.

“I’m sorry, but she said I couldn’t tell anyone.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead but glanced at you in the rearview mirror; his gaze was soft.

“Okay, if that’s what she said, it seems I’ll have to ask her.” You hated things not going your way, especially if Oz was hiding things from you. You two were supposed to be close, even if you were acting like a spoiled brat right now. If any other member of the staff had acted like this with you- it would have been a different story.

The next day, from morning until late evening, you tried to shake the uneasy feeling that your sister was gone to do something she was not supposed to. Either way, it was something very important. When you asked her, she quickly said it was none of your business and that you shouldn’t worry; she would get your driver back as soon as possible.

Something was definitely up. She took Oz with her when she had two other drivers. Maybe it was because Oz was intimidating; that huge scar on his face couldn’t have appeared there because he was a nice guy, and he wasn’t going to hesitate if push came to shove.

Tomorrow was your dad’s birthday party, and you had the most beautiful dress prepared: a gorgeous, short, white dress paired with the most stunning custom-made Louboutin heels, also white—a gift from your dad on your 18th birthday.

You knew tomorrow was going to be full of remarks like, “Oh my God, I haven’t seen you in SUCH a long time!” “I cradled you when you were just a widdle baby!” “How beautiful you have become!” Being the center of attention wasn’t so bad now; I mean, you were the baby of the family, and everyone doted on you.

The Falcone mansion was a very, very big house, full of rooms and bathrooms, and it was sometimes hard to figure out who came and went. As you rested on your family sofa in the living room, waiting to be welcomed in by your father in his office, you heard those familiar footsteps you knew so well. 

It was hard not to know who he was; that leg of his became harder to move late in the evening. You discovered this by literally dragging him with you into every shop that piqued your curiosity. From early afternoon until late evening, you were on the “prowl,” as your sister liked to say at family dinners—from meeting the daughter of X and Y in I-don’t-know-what shop to trying on a multitude of dresses, shoes, and accessories. He never told you, but you were sure it hurt him as well; still, Oz never showed any signs of discomfort or pain. He was always ready with a smile or a funny remark.

When you saw him, he had his jacket removed, and you noticed the way his belly pushed against his dress shirt. A few buttons were undone at the upper part of his torso, giving you a full look at the hair there. His tie was gone as well. You knew his shift was done; clearly, Sofia had dismissed him.

You immediately jumped off the sofa and went to say hi to him. He was clearly surprised to see you, especially in your pajamas. You also forgot about the attitude you were supposed to have. What was all that about anyway?

“Hi Oz, what are you doing here?”

He said he wanted to talk to your dad. What was up with all this secrecy? Did they think you were too stupid or naive to have a say or an opinion? When you asked what it was about, he said it was just some business stuff, nothing too important. You two could talk outside if you wanted; he wasn’t allowed inside the house after all.

“Okay, whatever.” It was hard not to get annoyed at both of them. You hadn’t even seen or talked to your sister. Did she even come home?

He must have been in there for about thirty minutes, but finally, he came out. Outside, he lit a cigarette and asked if you were cold, he could get you his jacket-forever the gentleman. You said no, the last thing you wanted to do was push him like that. You asked again about your sister and he didn’t want to tell you, again, saying it wasn’t right to your sister. Ok, now you really had to find out and with your heart beating a thousand beats per minute, you got even closer to him. The smell of his cologne, the one he always wore, left a trail wherever he went—a sort of flamboyance he allowed himself- the only one he was allowed in the chains of his current position. The smell of the cigarette mixed with it wasn’t the most pleasant, but whatever; it smelled like him.

“Please, Oz, I just want to know. Everyone always keeps me in the dark. You’re my friend—well, I consider you my friend—just tell me. Don’t be like the rest of them because you aren’t.” You looked at him with the most pained expression you could muster at that hour, your voice breaking-low enough to be a whisper

 “Doll, I—listen—” he started.

“Please, Oz, you're my driver, and you’re supposed to be by my side. I was kind to you; I always told you everything. I made sure my dad gave you all those bonuses for walking around with me.” You paused. “Please?” He looked at you like you were in hospice before saying:

“Okay, Jesus, um, your sister went to a journalist, that lady who came after her when you were off sulking in the car. She met up with her today—”

“What?” you interjected.

He inhaled deeply before continuing, “Something about your dad and some hookers at the club. Apparently, they died or something. Your sister was interested in whatever that woman had to say, nothing more.”

“Oh—”

“Oh, exactly. Now don’t go telling your brother or something—”

“Dad has hookers at the club?”

He looked at you, dumbfounded. “Y-yeah, I guess. Anyway, it is nothing you should concern yourself with, ya know?” You didn’t respond, lost in thought. How could she have been so stupid?

“Hey, hey—” he lowered his head to catch your big eyes, so full of things to say, a million thoughts running behind them. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay. Where do you want to go tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” you said.

“C’mon, you gotta think about something. Until your dad’s birthday in the evening, we gotta go somewhere. There’s this new restaurant that opened up; I heard only good things about it—” How could she have been so careless? “Something with C—ugh, I can’t remember right now.”

“Okay, tomorrow we go. You have a nice night, Oz,” you said. “Take care of yourself.”

“Alright, you too. Sleep tight,” he said, a bit surprised at your quick dismissal of him. You knew that, but you had to think.

This was huge, like actually huge. If your dad found ou—Why was Oz visiting your dad?

The birthday party was the same as every year: all the family got together to have material for gossip later on in the day and hate each other just as much as they did when they were away. You never went with Oz to that restaurant because, frankly speaking, you were scared shitless. Your dad loved you and your siblings you knew that, in his own way, and he would never endanger any of you.

When your dad called Sofia into his office and she got all excited to give him his birthday present, you never would have thought in a million years that the night would end with her being picked up by the police. Alberto called you in a frenzy that night, his voice shaking with anger. You knew—your dad let this happen. This arrest was made on his grounds, on his territory—why? How?

When you visited your sweet sister, everyone still believed she was going to go home. This was just Dad’s way of scaring her, maybe to teach her a lesson—the most important one he had been repeating all your lives: DO NOT SPEAK TO THE PRESS.

Her lawyer was very, very expensive, and yet not even she could save her. You thought she was going to jail. No, she was going to Arkham for six months until she would be judged. Based on the false accusations that she hanged those sex workers at your dad’s club. What? Now that was actual insanity. She started yelling that Dad set her up, that he killed all those women—he killed their mom too. This was a lot to process. Your heart was beating out of your chest seeing the person who you thought was the most calm and collected person freak out, and rightfully so, because police officers took her away in like five minutes.

It all happened too fast, way too fast for this to be okay.

What sort of judge allows this to happen?

You knew it was his fault. He did this. Upon arriving back home, you were a wreck. How could you look your dad in the eye again?

One thing you knew for sure: you never wanted to see Oz again.

And your wish came true! Because your darling sweet daddy sent you far, far away, abroad, because he didn’t want to deal with you either, you presumed. He sent you to France, where a large part of your mom’s family lived.

You never learned French, but now was apparently the time. Your aunt and uncle lived quite well over there and even if they didn’t really keep in touch with you over the years, they accepted you with open arms. They had a large villa in the south, a pool outside, the beach was one hour away, two dogs that would run around and make your days better.

 But how could your days be good when your sister was in a looney bin, thrown in there like a rag, used and discarded? Your days were spent calling Alberto, asking about Sofia. You made sure he told her you loved her, that you asked about her, and that you two were going to get her out of there. Every year, Al told you she started losing herself more and more each day.

Oz, on the other hand, apparently thought he was a big man now; he ran the Iceberg Lounge, a funny name association, given that he hated being called “Penguin.” You knew he asked about you too, but Alberto said he told him to fuck off every time.

You weren’t allowed to go back home, at least that’s what you understood from your dad. He said you and your sister both lost yourselves a bit, maybe the money and the fame got to your head and that it was best you stayed there; the weather would do you wonders.

On the bright side, it had been five long years, and Alberto said he was 100% sure he was going to get Sofia out of that shithole, finally.

And when you thought that things were finally looking up for you, everything was going to be okay after such a long time of everything being shit—your dad died.

Your ears started ringing, like a train was passing in your head, when Alberto yelled out that he was gone over the phone. Your knees felt weak, like someone had transformed them into play-doh. I need to get home now.

Your dad wasn’t even cold in the grave when Alberto went AWOL—gone, no word from him since yesterday evening. Both you and Sofia were worried. Where was he?

You knew Oz was called to the house that day after your brother stopped responding to your texts. You could hear that loud voice of his, muffled but still loud enough to hear everything they said.

You hadn’t been here for quite some time—five years. Still, nothing changed. Sofia’s uncle Johnny and Milos filled your brother’s spot while he was gone; however, when he comes back-he’s going to be the boss, that's for sure.

Women weren’t allowed inside when the men were planning and talking business, but you weren’t inside. Plus, it wasn’t your fault Oz had a voice loud enough to hear from down the hall. Oz. Oz’s voice. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he spoke. This stupid attraction—you hoped in the years that passed it would go away, but apparently, it had not. In fact, it seemed to have grown alongside you. Maybe now he could have more courage; maybe this newly acquired upgrade made him the man you only saw glimpses of. You were a grown woman; surely now he had no reservations about you. Surely.

You didn't even hear your sister walk by with her bodyguards near your spot, attached to the door, too busy in your daydream.

“Am I interrupting you?” she asked, making you jump and curse under your breath. Her manner of speaking changed; so did her walk, her style, and her hair. But you knew the love you guys had for one another hadn’t changed.

“Fuck, Sofia, why are you sneaking up on me like that?” you whispered.

“Can you please move? I want to go inside,” she said, smiling, but the smile never reached her eyes. You moved, and the doors were opened.

“—in fact, it’s big. It has the potential to revolutionize the drug business,” you heard from inside. Huh? Is he referring to Al's plan?How does he know what Alberto wanted to do? You didn’t even know the whole story—of course you didn’t.

You decided to leave. You didn’t want Oz to see you, and you didn’t want to see him either. What was wrong with you?

On your way out, passing the exit, you saw this gorgeous purple car. Now there was only ONE man you knew who could possess something as flashy and in-your-face as a purple fucking car.

It wasn’t Milos, by the way. Then you heard his footsteps, and they were coming-fast, like really fucking fast.

Shit, okay, I’m leaving—go up the stairs now. Before you could hide yourself in one of the upper rooms, you heard Sofia yell out your name.

“Oz, you remember my little sister, right? She had such a fondness for you and you of her, from what I remember. You two haven’t seen each other for such a long time.” Okay, you couldn’t hide, so just put on a brave face and go say hi. “Hi, Oz, you ruined my life, but don’t worry, I would still ride you.” You wished you were back in Europe.

Turning the corner was the easy part; looking at him was the hard part. He looked different, yes—but still the same. His clothing had definitely changed; his black suit was now replaced with a purple one, like the car. Jesus. While you descended the staircase in your short flowery dress, it felt like your date was waiting for you downstairs to take you to prom. Those seven seconds you spent getting down the staircase felt like seven hours. Please, ground, swallow me whole now.

Once you got down and saw him again for the first time in five years, up close, he looked somehow more handsome. His scar was more pronounced, yes, but it added to his allure. Oh God, he’s smiling. Not only did he have a purple car and a purple suit, but this man had golden teeth as well. On a lighter note, he smelled like cologne, cigarettes, and aftershave—just like you remembered him smelling. Oh, that brings you back.

“Hi, Oz,” you said, smiling ear to ear.

He looked you up and down, still smiling. “Wow, you’re just as gorgeous as I remember.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap 6

masterpost

Mrs. Henderson was a lot friendlier with that explanation. He was grateful because that gave him a little space to think about escape plans. “You’re lucky I was here at all,” Mrs. Henderson chattered. “Goodness knows I’ll be out of town soon. My grandson is getting married this weekend, down in that shithole Metropolis.” She shut the window that he’d come in through, which looked a little difficult with her mace wedged in her armpit. 

It would probably be really nice if her walker had a ledge for storage on it, Tim thought. He let his eyes glaze over a little bit as he imagined how he would design it. He ended up following the retiree through her house to the wall that he knew connected with the other apartment. The door stuck out because it kind of looked like an outside door: sturdier than a door usually needs to be inside.

Mrs. Henderson optimistically tried the door that internally connected the duplex. It rattled a rejection. “He never used to keep this locked,” she lamented. She gave up with a sigh and put her mace back on the display case a few feet away. 

Tim hummed and bounced on his heels. He thought that made sense. If Jason wanted the neighbor man investigated, he probably had stuff to hide. Tim would lock out his neighbor, too. 

“That's too bad,” Tim lamented. He clasped his hands behind his back. “I guess I'll go back to my Mom.”

“Oh, nonsense.”

Tim froze. Mrs. Henderson started walking to her kitchen. . Her long robe dragged behind her about an inch on cold hardwood floors. “You can wait for a while with me.”

Oh. Oh, this wasn’t great.

On the one hand, he would get to see the sausage man if Mrs. Henderson let him wait with her. On the other hand, he was going to know that Tim had lied about being a relative, and he would probably say so.

Tim followed Mrs. Henderson a bit woodenly and climbed up onto the stool on autopilot as she leaned over to the sink. Heck. What did he do? He searched his mind for a reference he could rely on. He had nothing.

‘I’m not a very good vigilante,’ Tim thought sadly. He kicked his feet against the bars of the stool and then suddenly stopped when Mrs. Henderson glanced over at him. She flicked the red light on on her kettle. ‘I should have watched more spy movies.’

He made a silent promise to himself to study before he went into action again. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this, but once he did, he was going to learn from it. A few minutes passed before Mrs. Henderson poured the hot water into mugs and then stirred something.

“Do you like marshmallows?” 

Tim blinked. Like, merengue? “I have sophisticated tastes,” he answered on autopilot. Then he wondered why she’d asked.

She laughed. “Me too.” She opened a bag and dumped a pile of sweets into the tea.

His brain shut down a little at the audacious display of dietary recklessness. “Thank you,” he said, and accepted the mug with both hands. He peered down and breathed in the sweet steam.

It was weirdly dark tea. And- really, really sweet-smelling. He sniffed it cautiously and then took a look at his hostess. 

“It’s hot,” she warned, and then took a cautious sip of her own.

Tim copied her out of well-bred reflex and instantly coughed. It was thick. Why was it thick? “What kind of tea is this?” His voice squeaked up high.

Mrs. Henderson snorted brown liquid out her nose and then cried out in pain. Tim startled but she kept laughing, hand pressed over her face.

“... It's not tea,” Tim said. He took another suspicious taste. Now that he wasn't expecting something else, he could identify chocolate. “Wow. My mom wouldn't give this to me.” He slurped up a marshmallow. Then he froze because Mrs. Henderson had put a hand over the top of his cup. 

“Do you have allergies?” Her dark eyes were serious underneath her eyeglasses. 

“Prawns,” Tim supplied. “That's all.” 

Mrs. Henderson took her hand away. “Ah. There's no prawns in there, so….” She pursed her lips. “Well, I was a scout when I was your age. I have to peddle sweets to show my pride.” 

“You what?” Tim leaned a little closer. 

She blinked at him and then took another sip of her chocolate. “You know, scouts? They sell cookies?” 

Wow. Tim hid his reaction to that. Were things really that bad in public schools? She'd been working at 9? That was brutal and unjust. Tim worried his lip between his teeth for a few moments before he decided that he really did have to say something.

“That seems unjust,” he said. Tim worried that it was a little rude to say so, but he didn't want people to think he approved of child labor.

She choked on her chocolate again.

A car door slammed on the other side of the building. When his hostess cleared her throat, there were tears in her eyes. She patted at Tim's hand. “You can come back anytime you want, honey,” she said, in a funny voice. “Your Uncle is home! That was his door. I'll walk you around.” 

Tim stood up. “No, I'm fine!” He chirped. His heart thudded in his chest. “Thank you so much!” He went to the door a lot faster than she could, pulled it open, and then felt bad. “The drink was really good,” he added, and then he hopped out and shut the door behind him.

“Oh. Hello.” A middle-aged man stood on the sidewalk outside of the duplex. He had a huge duffle bag over his shoulder and he was sort of leaning as if it was heavy. He eyed Tim and Mrs. Henderson’s door with a sort of sharp, calculating expression. “...Visiting my neighbor?”

Ah. His stomach wrenched.

Tim flashed a gala-ready smile up at the sausage guy, deploying maximum cuteness. “Yepp!” He chirped. “I’m her grandson.”

‘Don’t be suspicious,’ he chanted internally. ‘Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious.’

Sausage man frowned a little. “...Not the one who is getting married?” he asked in a funny voice. “I thought she only had the one.” He eyed Tim a little harder. “And, not to be rude, but i would have assumed he’d also be Black.”

Oh. Heck. Jason’s bad guy was definitely getting suspicious of him. He needed to deflect, fast.

“I was joking!” Tim giggled. “You’re funny. No, I’m a scout selling cookies.” He straightened his posture to look like a child with stable employment. “Do you want some?”

“...Cookies?” he clarified. “Not popcorn?” 

“Definitely cookies,” said Tim, who had just learnt this fact today. “It’s okay, it’s confusing.”

Sausage man cocked his head to the side, opened his mouth, and then apparently thought better of whatever he’d been about to say. “Yes, actually, I love those cookies.” The man readjusted his duffle bag. “Do you have an order form?” He held out a hand expectantly.

Tim eyed it and resisted the urge to fling himself off the two concrete steps separating him from the lawn. “Not with me,” he bluffed. “What kind do you want?”

“You’re not going to just remember my order,” said the Sausage man, who was beginning to look genuinely irritated. He took a half a step closer. His heavy bag swung. Tim stole a glance down at it. Sausage man followed his gaze and then looked back at Tim. He narrowed his eyes and he smiled.

It did not feel like a nice smile. 

“Why don’t you come in?” he said, and put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “No one is waiting for you, right?”

“My boyfriend is,” Tim lied immediately. It was kind of true. 

Sausage man snorted, because he didn’t know that Jason was going to kick his ass. “That’s probably alright,” he said, amused. He squeezed down on Tim’s shoulder a little. Tim tensed. He needed help, he needed an adult-

“There’s my mom!” Tim chirped. The man let go like he thought Tim was on fire. Tim took advantage of the moment and ducked under the Sausage man’s arm. His heart was pounding so hard. “I’ll see you later, bye!” He sprinted down the walkway and turned left onto the real sidewalk without slowing down. 

Haha, sucker. Janet wasn’t even there! And the guy just believed him when he said he saw his Mom? Ridiculous! She was probably in Peru or in a board meeting! He pumped his arms a little harder until he realized that he wasn’t being chased.

The sausage man didn’t chase after him or call out. When Tim stole a look backwards, he saw the door pulling shut.

“Whew,” said Tim, slowing down. “That went okay. Except I didn’t learn anything.”

…He could try again tomorrow.

[numinousher]

CHANTAJE! (xxi)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: ngl im ready for the series to be done bc i want the drama already!!

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni @shakespeare-in-the-park7

“Why the fuck was Namjoon telling me to kiss you?”

Jimin asked as soon as you opened the door to let him in.

You staggered back as he walked past you because you did not expect him to appear unexpectedly two days after your dinner with the other 4. You thought you had more time to mentally prepare yourself but, you figured Namjoon had something up his sleeve when they were all too quiet for your liking.

“Because it’s Namjoon,” you scoffed, closing the door and hopping away.

At seeing your hopping, Jimin glanced at your figure before doing a whole double take at you. You had your ankle wrapped in some type of white gauze, and he reached down by kneeling in front of you.

“What the hell happened?” He questioned, rubbing his thumb over the rough texture.

Sighing, you recounted what happened.

It wasn’t your fault.

“Hyung-min, if you drop me, I will kick your ass, dude,” you had sternly said to the actor who was holding you in his arm because, for some stupid reason, you had to be held in his arms while his character ran. So, he was running while he had you in his arms. “Why do we have to keep this scene in?”

“He thinks it makes him look bad ass,” Jae said with almost a humorous scoff at recounting her boyfriend’s words back to you. She seemed embarrassed at the way her boyfriend dramatically breathed in and out like an animal, and that’s when you came to a conclusion that Hyung-min was giving you the ick. He really was a man.

“Oh, shit.”

Before you could process it, Hyung-min had tripped over his own two feet, instantly dropping you to the floor. You had tried catching yourself before you landed on your butt, but you failed once you felt your ankle doing whatever it did that shot up a huge amount of pain from your ankle close to your thigh.

“They’re going to kill you,” Jae muttered once she hurried to your side, already grabbing her phone to call your personal doctor, the one you had for a few years now after a nurse almost tried killing you in a public hospital. It was a long story, and it was one you hated thinking about considering the nurse was a huge fan of yours. He didn’t get a lot of years in prison for attempted murder, but you did get a restraining order against him.

“Who?”

“Who else, my love?” Jae asked, giving her boyfriend a look as he instructed him to carry you over to the couch so you don’t have to put pressure on the foot. “Hey, doc. She got hurt… Her foot, it’s not broken or anything. But, it’s starting to swell.”

“So, you hurt your ankle because of Hyung-min?” Jimin asked, his phone already in his hands while he sent a message to the others that they can’t take you out. “Canceled the dinner we had on Saturday. You can’t walk like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked (hopped) past him. “I have crutches and it’s a dinner. I will be sitting down majority of the time. Now if it’s a dinner where we have to stand up for whatever reason, then I’ll understand the concern.”

“It is.”

“Uhuh.” Landing on your couch, you made yourself comfortable while eyeing his look. He was looking around, wondering where your help was. “She wasn’t needed today any longer, so I gave her a day off.”

“You give your workers days off?”

“I’m not cruel.”

Knowing you clearly were suffering through the pain of having to hop, he kneeled again beside your figure lying on the couch, and ran his hand over your covered calf. “Are you in horrible pain?”

“Not too much,” you responded. You sighed at his worried look, the one he tried to hide behind his stoic facial expression. “I have a sprained ankle. I’ll be good in a bit. I’m just happy it wasn’t anything too serious.”

“Did Hyung-min apologize?” You nodded. “Good. I need to have a chat with him that he needs to be careful.” Giving him another nod, you dismissed him to continue watching your favorite show, and briefly took a glance at him once he placed his phone on his ear.

“Jae.”

“You saw her ankle I’m guessing,” your dear friend breathed out as soon as she answered the call. She had been waiting for one of them to call her ever since yesterday when her stupid ass boyfriend decided to carry you in his arms while running.

“Yeah, I saw her ankle,” Jimin scoffed. He stood up and crossed an arm over his chest while the other was still held up by his ear. “What the hell was Hyung-min doing?”

“He was stupid that’s what,” Jae said with a shake of her head. “Anyway, don’t worry too much. It’s just sprained, she’ll be fine as long as she stays off. Her doctor checked her and her maids are coming in tomorrow to do whatever she wants. Tell her, too. She’s going to be stubborn about it.”

“You better stay off your feet,” Jimin strictly told you, his finger pointed at you to emphasize the seriousness of his words. You waved him off. “I’m not kidding. I will come in and babysit you if I have to and guess what? I will.”

“No.”

“Yes, now shut the fuck up.” Jae snorted at hearing how serious he sounded. It’s why she had warned Hyung-min not to carry you because she knew how serious things were surprisingly getting with the boys. Much to her surprise and Chan-woo’s. And now Hyung-min, too, who has been begging her to give him the boys’ phone numbers so he could apologize to them (he couldn’t stop sending you flowers as an apology).

“Listen, Hyung-min didn’t mean no harm.”

“Yeah, he better not,” Jimin said. “And tell him I don’t want kissing scenes.”

“They’re not doing kissing scenes, Jimin,” Jae reassured him, glancing down at her paperwork. “He and Y/n have been changing the script because they don’t want to hurt my feelings, when I don’t really care.”

“Why would your feelings matter in this situation?”

“I’ve been dating Hyung-min, idiot,” she unintentionally let out. Once she realized the name she had called him, she immediately apologized with a monotonous voice that made Jimin shake his head.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

Jimin glanced at you and walked away towards your hallway leading to the kitchen and dining room. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “They’re not kissing?”

“No,” Jae said with an annoyed sigh. “Convince her, please, to have at least a kissing scene with him. It adds more to the movie.”

“Well, I think kissing scenes are not necessary in this scenario,” Jimin mumbled, looking at his fingers. “I’m sure dialogue and unwanted touches are much more intimate.”

“You just don’t want no one to kiss her,” Jae called him out. “Because you want to kiss her, you freak. I see your looks—”

“I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

“Don’t hang—”

Hanging up, Jimin goes back to be with you, his phone buzzing in his hand.

He sat down by your feet and placed a hand on your good ankle. “I’ll come by tomorrow, okay? In the meantime, I’m all yours.”

“Jimin, I’m okay,” you said with a chuckle, eyeing his face. He was obviously concerned.

Jimin knew he was concerned because he cared about. It was the reason why he loved bickering with you; he couldn’t let you know he genuinely had a soft spot for you. It’s always been there and it has been since you had slapped him. Don’t get him wrong, it was embarrassing when you did so. But, he knew you had a big heart when you didn’t know the reason as to why he was scolding the people he was scolding and you took it as him being mean.

You didn’t need to know the reason why he did what he did was because he was tired of hearing them talk shit about you behind your back.

You didn’t need to know that.

The next morning, Jimin came at exactly 10 AM.

Your maid had opened the door and she was very surprised when he waved her off and told her to take the rest of the day off. He was in charge of taking care of you now.

“Come here.”

He was tired of reaching over to your head resting on some pillows while your feet rested on his lap. He placed the food on the table and stood up to pick you up bridal style.

“What are you doing?” You asked, immediately holding onto to this neck.

“My shoulder was hurting passing you the food,” he simply said as if it was nothing, sitting back down on the couch with you now on his lap. Your hands were still wrapped around his neck and you could smell the cologne he wore that always made you mentally inhale. He did smell so good.

“Thank you.”

He was feeding you for a while and he was actually entertained with the show you had put on—after he told you to change that “cheesy shit”—due to his facial expressions when a character betrayed the other.

“That bitch.”

Chuckling, you shook your head and hummed in agreement.

You two didn’t even realize you had been done eating and were just now too into the show.

“Kiss me.”

“I will.”

“Is that going to be me and you?” Jimin teased with a small grin, clearly beginning the banter you had. He always mentioned you two kissing.

“Why? You want to kiss me?” You teased back, bumping your shoulder against his.

“You just want to kiss me so bad that’s why I’m asking,” he said with a shrug, feeling your body shake simultaneously with the chuckles you were letting out. He looked down at you. “I always see you glancing at my lips that’s why.”

“Well, yeah,” you sat up as best as you could and eyed the way his lips were glossy due to the chapstick he had put on. “Ypu have nicer lips than me.”

He scoffed and looked to the side before glancing back at you. “You raise my ego too much, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Mhm, you don’t like it?” He raised a brow. He dramatically sighed. “Well, I guess since you hate it so much, I can just call you an idi—”

Placing a hand over his mouth, you groaned. “Sweetheart is fine. I’d rather hear that instead of you calling me an idiot 24/7.” He opened his mouth to speak again but you shushed him. “Shut up, you would never stop calling me that name.”

“You just want me to give you a nickname like Jungkook, Tae, and Namjoon have for you,” Jimin’s muffled voice said under your hand. “You have a little crush on me, hmm?”

“No,” you scoffed out, taking your hand away to flick him on his forehead. “Don’t become delusional.”

“Shame,” he continued his dramatics by sighing rather loudly. “You eye-fucking me turned me on a little.”

“I-” You slapped his shoulder as he let out a laugh. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” he said in between chuckles, shaking his head. He chuckled a bit more before looking at you with that stupid smirk of his that, you’re not going to lie, did something to you. “Was what Namjoon said true?”

“About us kissing?” He nodded, his eyes glancing between your eyes to your lips and then traveled back to your eyes. You hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe not. He probably just said that because we kissed at the restaurant we went to with the others.”

“Were there cameras?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t see any. But, yeah, it was just a kiss and he wants us to stop bickering.”

“But I love bickering with you.” He could see the facial expression you sent him, making him laugh under his breath. “I just love knowing how much you get ticked off. I like the idea, though, of being able to just shut you up when I get to your face like this, too.”

His hands snaked its way to your neck, right under your jaw, and he brought your face closer to his. His thumb reached over to brush the pad of it on your lips with his eyes never straying away from yours. You could obviously see the humor he had in his eyes.

“And you do shut up,” he lightly said with a few snickers escaping his mouth. “Obedient and beautiful. If only…”

“If only what?”

He smiled and brushed his lips against yours, his other hand slightly hovering above your wounded ankle. He kept his distance though, and you knew he was just teasing you by the way he deviously grinned when he could see you wanted more. But he loved feeling the excitement of having you so close, having his lips brush against yours, to feel that electricity of being close to kissing you.

“I don’t feel like it’s right we’re this close,” you muttered, looking at him under your eyelashes. “With Namjoon, the others knew about it. But, you guys are still in a relationship.”

He smiled at your words and shook his head. “We’ve all been wanting to kiss you. If I knew it was wrong, I would not be pulling this move out of respect for the others and you. But, we have respect for you and we have spoken about this.”

“You have?”

“When I’m in a relationship,” he explained, still holding you a bit closer but maintaining a bit of distance between you two, “I don’t fuck around with others. I’m loyal and I always am. With you, we have all acknowledged that kissing you, is not in any way a direct threat to our relationship. We’re all bonding with you and that’s all that matters; having their consent and having yours.”

“Mine?”

He nodded. “Yours.” He could feel you relax under his touch at knowing that the others know about his actions. He continued his gaze. “If only we could test out Namjoon’s theory.”

“Should we?” You questioned him, slightly backing away. But, you couldn’t get far without his hand bringing you closer again.

“Maybe,” his breath hit your lips as he spoke, the smell of mint and vanilla hitting your nose.

“It’s not a ‘yes’.”

“Definitely not a ‘no’ when you look at me with those pretty eyes.”

“You think my eyes are pretty?”

“I’ll give you whatever you ask.”

“A practice kiss.”

“Anything.”

< before - after >