#more that than the secret crush thing that it was
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If you are still writing for bombshell x Spencer could you write something from early seasons when he had feelings for JJ 👉🏻👈🏻
Hotch told you once that he was tempted to put an automatic lock on the office doors, so that he can lock them when he sees you coming during your working hours.
He has yet to follow through. You slip in through the doors and take a deep breath. It smells like coffee, printer paper, all the same stuff as your own office, but your office doesn’t have Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, or Spencer Reid.
“Neither does this one, apparently,” you mumble to yourself, casting your gaze around the room to no avail. The boys aren’t here.
Emily’s sitting at her desk. She’s new, you’re jealous of her job, but she’s gorgeous. You won’t mind sitting at Spencer’s desk until they get back. “Hello,” you drawl, setting down in Spencer’s chair comfortably.
Emily’s mildly startled. “Hey?”
Spencer’s desk is an explosion. You debate cleaning up for him. What if you put something in the wrong place? It’ll be more annoying than helpful. “How are things?” you ask, pushing Spencer’s chair back, and kicking a leg over your knee, high heel bobbing.
“What?”
You smile at her. Flirting, just a little, but your concern is real. “How are things going, Prentiss? With you?”
“They’re good. Yeah. I just moved into my new place.”
Bless her for not knowing what to do with you. She doesn’t have practice like the rest. “A new place? Where to?”
She relaxes while you talk. Her apartment overlooking Kingman, her cat’s annoyance at the new smells and the long case time away. “Spencer says that cats aren’t capable of holding grudges, but Sergei can.”
“He’s cute, isn’t he? He knows a fun fact for everything.”
Emily sits up. You can see the excitement of a secret in her dark eyes. “He’s adorable. His little crush on JJ is so sweet, I’ve tried to give him some advice but he’s totally stuck on her.” You falter. And Emily, profiler in training, she catches it. Her lips part, startled. “You’re not–”
“I had no idea Spencer had a little crush,” you breathe, sitting up with a smile. “For how long? What about JJ, is she interested in him?” You hug your hands together. “You know, I think they’d make a cute couple.”
“Well, I heard they went to a football game together, but I don’t know when. Before I got here, at least.”
What? “That’s fun.”
“I don’t think it’s serious.”
You tip your head back and the heavens have opened, Derek Morgan’s making his way toward you with a grin and a hand reaching for you. “Sweetheart, where have you been?” he asks. “It’s been weeks, I was starting to miss you.”
You texted him a few days ago about a property nearby for rent, and you had coffee the day after to hear his advice on the area, so he’s just making stuff up. “Hi, Derek.”
You get up and let him hug you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful and fun and smart, and you deserve a handsome man rubbing your arm and telling you he missed you. “How much?” you ask warmly.
“Like a hole in the head.”
Hotch is behind him. And there, the surprise item of the afternoon, Spencer Cheating Reid.
“Hi, Hotch,” you say.
“I heard something about you I’d rather not repeat,” he says.
“Hotch, the details were wildly exaggerated, and I was less at fault than you might think.”
“I thought it was entirely your fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot, doing things like that.”
“Why, what did you do?” Spencer asks.
You falter again. Everyone sees your insecurity: Hotch’s brow furrows deeper than it had been, Morgan pauses, and Spencer, to your panic, holds your eye as the emotion passes. “It’s not worth talking about,” you say, shrugging.
“Try not to do it again,” Hotch says. “Morgan, with me.”
“Uh, Hotch?” Emily speaks up.
“You too, Prentiss.”
He leads a procession up to his office. Morgan throws you a look like he wants to talk to you, but you’ve plastered unaffectedness over the wound again. Why does the idea of JJ and Spencer going on a date upset you? He’s a sweet guy, she’s a nice girl. Is it because you didn’t know?
“You really haven’t been here in weeks,” Spencer says.
“Missed me?”
He holds the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I did.”
What use does he have missing you? “I heard something interesting about you, Spencer.”
“You did?”
He looks shy, pale, and worried. You forget sometimes how he’s not just your favourite dork, he’s a friend. And he doesn’t seem to have very many of them.
Oh, you think, jealousy, you heartless monster.
“The rumour mill says you aren’t sleeping enough,” you say gently.
“I sleep fine.”
You put one kitten heel in front of the other and stay, squinting at him with a teasing suspicion. “That’s not what my informants have been telling me. You look tired, honey. You aren’t sleeping, or Hotch won’t let you?”
“Both.”
He does that playful smiley thing that makes you wanna scrunch his hair in your hands, like he knows he’s made a good joke.
“Your case in Cincinnati sounded tough.”
“Wait,” he says.
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Usually. Why?”
“Are you okay right now?”
“I’m fine.” You purse your lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just– you– I don’t know, you didn’t seem like yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you, asking about that stuff. It’s none of my business, sorry.”
“How are you feeling about physical touch today?” you ask.
He seems to regard you with distrust, for a few seconds, like he’s worried you’re messing with him. “I’m okay with it,” he says eventually.
You step into his space and touch his cheek gently, fingertip tapping into a beauty mark you often remember only when he’s in your reach. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I made you think that.” You drop your hand. “Just having a weird day.”
“Me too.”
Spencer puts his bag under his desk and mentions a video he found on profiling you might like by one of the old Unit Chief’s, SSA David Rossi. You steal Derek’s chair and sit knee to knee with him to watch it, Spencer’s cheeks turning dark with blush in the screen’s reflection.
Can JJ make him blush like that?
—
bombshell fics
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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The secret sauce is, "they weren't capitalist, they were feudal theocrats." And they're more willing to forgive theocratic fascist states and feudal lords and fiefdoms than capitalism.
That, and they see Western European culture as the worst, by virtue of it being Western European culture. In trying to weave this narrative of all the oppressed groups of people on earth coming together against "oppression, inequality, crushing poverty," they hold that whites are synonymous and indistinct from capitalism. That capitalism is a club, and white people are the wielders.
So they'll take every social ill they claim to find unforgivable and a crime against nature and humanity, that damns and demerits all societies and rends them illegitimate if they use it, and then indicate that only white societies that use it are wrong, and it's only wrong, because it was a white society that did it. This circular logic is discrimination against white people and attributes criminality to it on the basis of race, and then uses the association of that race to make a certain behavior unforgivable... but only if the criminals perpetuating it, are white.
Because surely, an Arab slave trade isn't the barbarity of the white slave trade, right? It's different. You see. Because the Arab slave trade isn't the white slave trade, and the white slave trade was somehow unforgivably worse.
But you see, even this breaks down. You aren't ALLOWED at this point in the discussion to use the same rhetoric that says those guilty of these crimes are unforgivable, so their legitimacy as a bonafide and distinct people need to be dissolved and treated as foul and immaterial. That in a society based around representative cultures and groups, whites do not get representation or group status, only meaningless atomized individuals with no representative council or speakers or authority, because, "that'd be inherently white supremacist."
And when these people barking that these principles must be the fundamental way we operate as a society and philosophies we must adhere to get their way, and white voices are neutralized and identity criminalized as inherently violent and harmful, only then after they've put it into stone these things whites did were wrong, will they go after the next biggest cultures and groups that were guilty throughout history of these crimes. And revoke their representation, on grounds that their culture and society are illegitimate, making them blank slates and without representative as a culture or community, demoted to "hate group." And so on, until there are no cultures remaining, just The people.
Black Lives Matter was never about black people. It was about a parasitic Marxist movement wearing black skin to use the legitimacy of black culture for the purposes of attacking western society and capitalism by declaring it to be the source of white oppression, and anti-capitalism the panacea for it. Black Lives Matter was only allegedly about helping black people, by means of anticapitalism, anti-natalism, anti-cisheternormativity. By way of socialism, transhumanism and anti-nationalism. Proponents of black people and civil rights struggle was the sales pitch and the excuse, as they concatenated the conversation of getting their way being what's best for black people, to appeal to black afrocentrists and co-opting their movement.
Also from "Me too" to "Rape of jewish women can be excused as an act of palestinian resistance".
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Astro Observations~ 40
Scorpio moons take really long to talk about themselves and their past. Especially when getting to know someone they are romantically interested in (I notice this more with the men) it’ll be years until you really start to know them. This is why many can view them as toxic.. but once you wait out their little game they are loyal to you for life.
Taurus moons would rather pretend they are happy and content than ask for help. This is why they are viewed as emotional stable (but really they’re just repressing a lot:( it’s okay to be not okay♥️)
Aries Venus people get turned on from arguing (especially if paired with a Scorpio Mars)
Fire mercuries were yelled at a lot for talking too loud
Moon in Leo’s and be SO toxic when insecure. Cockiness to the extreme.
Every Leo sun I meet I see attract so many people to them. They really are such magnetic people their energy gives people life (like the sun). As dramatic as they are their confidence is so refreshing & admiring to be around. Their confidence gives others confidence as well.
Virgo suns Leo Venus women smell soooo good usually. Every time I walked someone to smelled like heaven they had this combo.
Aquarius sun tend to mold into their environment. Their personality can become easily influenced by those around them. This is why it’s important for them to surround themselves around positive influences. (Their friend group can usually change them for the better or worse)
Mars in Aquarius folks love things that are out of the ordinary whether it be clothes, sex, people, friends ect. Anything that confuses them or shocks them they usually become obsessed with.
Uranus in the 3rd house sounds like such a smart placement! I never met one person with this placement so I’m so interested on what these people think. (If you have this placement talk about it in the comments 🤗)
Mercury retrograde people are FUNNY omg. For a placement that has a hard time communicating they are absolutely hilarious. They say the most original jokes, shit that makes you think “how do you even come up with that🤣” they are able to see things people normally overlook which makes them so witty.
All Scorpio placements have such piercing dark eyes (sun, moon, rising esp). Even if you have light colored eyes they still appear dark in a way idk how to explain it.
Scorpio risings love people who can hold eye contact. It’s like their secret way of communicating. Insecure types however I see completely avoid it.. but most I notice really dig it. (Especially when it’s their crush 😏..)
Leo risings can exaggerate things about themselves to impress others. They are very dazzling and engaging but you can sense a fakeness in how they present themselves at times. (You guys don’t have to be something you’re not to impress others you guys are so cool regardless 🫶🏽) I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement be actually really awkward and nerdy but most cover it up with a glamorous mask.
Water mercuries can sense when people have bad intentions. They are usually the first ones to see when someone is fake while others might miss it. (Can catch a bad vibe from someone everyone likes then later find out they were horrible people all along).
Moon in Aries women are so HOT. The men are hot as well but very immature and annoying most of the time.
Aqua moons I feel like are the most unconventional and eccentric of all the Aquarius placements. They on a different wavelength then us all.
Gemini Risings in school were usually getting trouble for talking too much or disrupting the class lol.
Sorry I took to long to post I’ve been violently sick all week ♥️🫶🏽
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Not So Secret Santa
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Summary: Eve Dillard’s favorite holiday has lost its sparkle since a painful breakup, leaving her to navigate another lonely Christmas. But when a familiar snow globe from a secret admirer resurfaces, she’s drawn back into the past. The gift leads her to reconnect with Terry Richmond, a high school friend and long-lost crush who’s returned from military service. As their reunion stirs up old feelings, Eve is reminded of the magic of the season and the possibility of rediscovered love.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Holiday Rom-Com Coded
Word Count: 11K+
2024
Christmas had always been Eve Dillard’s favorite time of year.
The cold winter nights were perfect for curling up with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and fresh pine wrapping around Eve like a warm hug. Dressed in her favorite cozy pajamas, she'd let the crackling gas fireplace set the mood while losing herself in the comfort of holiday classics. Christmas wasn’t just a season for Eve—it was part of her identity. Her parents had named her after the holiday, and her siblings carried that same festive spirit in their names: Joy, Noelle, and their baby brother, Emmanuelle.
In the Dillard house, Christmas was magic.
Her mother, Diane Dillard, always turned every room into a wonderland, filling it with sparkling ornaments and twinkling lights. The family hosted a Christmas Eve party that felt like a reunion, with friends and family gathered around a table full of treats: rich red velvet cake, fudgy brownies, and the smoothest frosted pound cake you could imagine. Eve and her siblings would stay up late decorating gingerbread houses, listening to the grown folks talk. Those late nights became a tradition that grounded her in the best kind of holiday joy.
But after Eve turned twenty-five, things started to shift.
Five Christmases ago, her on-again, off-again high school sweetheart, Keith, had shattered her heart. She’d tried to move on, ventured back into the dating scene, but each attempt ended in disappointment. With each passing holiday season, dating felt like an even more hopeless endeavor. The men in her age range were either already in relationships or still out here playing games with women’s hearts. Unfortunately, Christmas had become a cold reminder of what she didn’t have.
Her siblings were all paired off—her two sisters had married solid, loving men and were chasing toddlers around the house. Even her baby brother had popped the question and was planning his wedding. And her parents? Their love was still as strong as ever, evident in the flirtatious teasing and laughter that echoed through the house whenever they bickered. There she was, the odd one out, especially during the holidays, when it seemed like everyone else was wrapped up in their own love stories.
Now, Christmas felt like a series of awkward work parties and forced smiles, nothing like the fun she remembered. If it wasn’t her aunties grilling her about meeting someone new, it was her cousins teasing her about her “bad luck” with men. The office celebrations, planned weeks ahead so coworkers could celebrate before their holiday leave, left the season feeling drawn out and exhausting. By the time Christmas Day arrived, the festivities felt stale, and Eve found herself just going through the motions, making polite conversation while secretly wishing she could fast-forward to January.
This year, things had gotten even more vexing—Eve had drawn Malik from IT for Secret Santa. Malik wasn’t bad to look at, but he spent more time flirting with every woman in the office than actually doing his job. His antics were enough to make Eve roll her eyes, turning the already-dreaded gift exchange into yet another holiday hurdle. Eventually, she settled on a simple set of pens and a plain notebook—safe, practical, and totally forgettable.
Even as she wrapped the gift, Eve felt the weight of monotony. With no new work crushes or dating prospects to look forward to, Eve’s workdays blurred together—endless paperwork, the same beige-gray office walls, and another holiday season passing in a haze of office chatter. It was easy to tune it all out, to just go through the motions. But then the day came—the day for the office gift exchange
“This one’s for Eve!” Ms. Ruby, the vibrant office manager, called out with her signature enthusiasm. At a proud seventy years young, Ms. Ruby was a force of nature, always stepping into the office with bold, jazzy outfits that matched her lively personality. “A gift from my husband, going on forty-something years strong!” she’d say with a wink whenever someone admired her latest accessory. Mr. Charles was forever splurging on a new costume jewelry set or a fresh pair of colorful shoes, each piece a reflection of his love for her style.
Eve rose from her seat, accepting the green gift bag with a polite smile. Maybe she’d never have a husband of forty-something years who appreciated her inside and out, but at least someone had remembered her favorite color. As she pulled back the tissue paper, her fingers brushed against something smooth and solid nestled inside.
When she lifted the delicate snow globe, Eve’s breath caught in her throat. Inside was a Black princess, a tiny crown perched on her head, surrounded by glittering snowflakes—just like the one she’d had as a child but lost during her senior year of high school.
"Oh my god!" Eve exclaimed, her voice filled with surprise and joy. She looked around the room, eyes sparkling. "Who got me this? I love it!" Her gaze swept across her coworkers, but everyone just shrugged, their smiles barely containing their amusement. Eve's eyes locked with Ms. Ruby’s, who wore a knowing smirk, as if she were in on some secret.
Whoever had chosen this gift had clearly gone to great lengths—it hadn’t been made in nearly twenty years. Who knew her well enough to find something so perfect? Who cared enough to hunt down something so meaningful? She dug through the bag for a card, hoping to find a name, but there was only a blank tag.
She shook the globe, and her eyes lit up as the snowflakes swirled around the princess. But then, tucked underneath it, a flash of highlighter pink caught her eye. She picked up the sticky note, the handwriting oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place it right away:
I hope you like this gift. It was difficult to find, but seeing you smile will be worth it. From your secret admirer.
Eve scanned the room again, but no one said a word—not even Malik, who was wearing that same smug grin of his. Have I ever seen his handwriting? she wondered, cringing at the thought of him being her secret Santa. Still, the gift was too thoughtful to dismiss, and she couldn't help but feel touched. “Whoever did this, thank you so much,” she said, her voice sincere. “This is honestly the best gift I could’ve gotten.”
The mystery lingered with Eve throughout the rest of the day. She couldn’t help but keep glancing around, half-expecting someone to fess up about being her Secret Santa, but no one did. Eventually, she wandered over to Ruby’s desk, hoping for a clue.
“That defeats the whole point of Secret Santa, baby,” Ms. Ruby said with a laugh, shaking her head as she shuffled through some papers.
Eve leaned casually against the back of Ruby's ergonomic chair. "It's only a secret 'til the gift’s out the bag, Ms. Ruby," she teased. “You already went and told everybody else’s Secret Santa. What’s so special about mine?”
Ms. Ruby glanced up from her stack of paperwork, her eyes twinkling with mischief before she moved quicker than Eve could have expected, swatting her lightly on the behind with the pile of papers.
“Ms. Ruby!” Eve yelped, jumping to the side, a surprised laugh escaping her lips.
“I told you to leave me be so I can get some work done!” Ms. Ruby shooed her away, her lips curling into a mock-serious frown. Eve didn’t have to look twice to know the older woman was more about looking busy than actually doing any paperwork. Working was just her way of staying active—keeping her mind sharp, like the rest of her.
As Eve turned to walk away, she grinned, rolling her eyes. “That woman’s a whole mess,” she murmured under her breath, her lips curling in affection despite herself.
Thoughts of her mysterious Secret Santa stayed with Eve the whole way home, nagging at her while she threw together a quick dinner and cleaned the kitchen. She couldn’t help but replay the moment she’d opened the snow globe, trying to figure out who had picked it out for her. But by the time she’d showered and got comfortable for the evening, her mind had wandered to other things—like what outfit she was going to rock on Christmas Day. She was ready to stunt a little, show her cousins what being childless did for her pockets and her closet.
By the time Eve got to work the next morning, she’d managed to push the mystery to the back of her mind. That is, until she sat down at her desk and spotted another sticky note with that same, familiar handwriting:
I’m glad you liked the gift. I knew it’d bring that beautiful smile of yours to life. If you're wondering who's behind it, I’d love to show you. Meet me for lunch at 1:00 PM—there’s a new spot two blocks down, and I’ve got us a table. Hope you can make it, Eve.
Eve bit her bottom lip, torn between caution and curiosity. Meeting someone like this, all wrapped in mystery, didn’t exactly feel safe or smart. Why all the secrecy? Why leave notes instead of just saying it out loud? How did they know about her smile without even being there? Could her Secret Santa have been watching from the shadows all along, without ever revealing themselves? The thought sent a chill down her spine. But in the end, curiosity won out.
Eve made sure to let Ms. Ruby know where she’d be and when to expect her back. Ms. Ruby’s knowing smile eased her nerves just enough as she stepped out into the brisk winter air, the chill nipping at her cheeks.
As she walked to the restaurant, Eve quickly texted her siblings the details—just to be safe. She wasn’t taking any chances, especially with the mystery hanging over her head.
When she stepped inside the restaurant, her gloved hands folded nervously in front of her, she took in the cozy ambiance. Soft R&B holiday classics played in the background, and the space glowed with candlelight and pine-scented garlands. Couples leaned in close, lost in their own world. Eve hesitated, feeling self-conscious standing alone at the entrance, until a young waitress approached her with a warm, welcoming smile.
"Are you Eve?"
Eve blinked, startled for a moment. "Yeah, that's me."
"Come on, I’ll show you to your table."
With a mix of curiosity and just a touch of apprehension, Eve followed the waitress further into the restaurant. “Where are we headed?” she asked, doing her best to keep her nerves in check.
“There’s a private area in the back,” the waitress replied with a friendly smile, leading her behind a velvet curtain. Despite the uneasy flutter in her chest, Eve pushed her doubts aside. She wasn’t about to turn back now after coming this far.
On the other side of the curtain, a single table was set up in the center of a cozy, golden-lit room. Sitting there, dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and slacks, was a man she hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. His rich honey-brown skin practically glowed in the soft light, and those blue-green eyes of his, sparkling with that same familiar warmth, made her heart skip a beat.
“Terry?” she whispered, the disbelief clear in her voice.
He stood, tall as she remembered, and before she knew it, she was in his arms. She jumped up, and he caught her easily, holding her close as she clung tightly to his neck
“It’s been way too long!” Eve exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as Terry lifted her off her feet, giving her a playful shake before setting her back down. The little girl inside her couldn’t help but squeal.
"Far too long," Terry agreed, his eyes softening as he met her gaze, holding her just a moment longer than necessary before gently lowering her back to the ground.
Eve slapped his arm, still grinning. "What are you doing here? When did you get back?"
“You haven’t changed a bit, Eve—still running that mouth a mile a minute,” Terry teased, his grin wide as he motioned for her to take a seat. Eve sank into the chair, but her gaze stayed locked on him, still struggling to believe he was really here.
They’d been close since childhood, but after graduation, Terry had enlisted in the Marines, and keeping in touch had been impossible. First, it was radio silence during boot camp, then sporadic updates as he climbed the ranks. Meanwhile, she’d dived into her studies, focused on finishing college and earning her degree, though thoughts of him had never been far from her mind. Every time she tried to reach out, something always got in the way.
Eve found herself momentarily frozen, taking in the scent of his cologne and the sharp look of his neatly styled short Afro. "You look good, Terry," she said, though the word "good" didn’t even come close to doing him justice. He’d filled out in all the right places, his frame broader than she remembered. It was clear the Marines had only made him more disciplined, more focused. The tall, lean teenager she remembered had transformed into a man who was clearly all grown up, his muscular build a testament to the years he'd spent shaping himself.
"You look even better." His gaze swept over her, making her pulse race. Eve couldn’t help the flutter in her chest, but she quickly shook it off. She’d grown into her own as well—filled out, gotten more comfortable in her skin, and her acne-prone days were long behind her. But this was Terry. He didn’t see her that way, and she was far too grown to be stuck on an old crush.
"So, for real, what brings you back home?" she asked, forcing herself to focus on the present.
"I'm done with the service now. Retired," Terry said with a shrug. "Figured it was time to come back home, settle down, and start a new chapter. Everyone I care about is here, so it felt like the right place to make it happen."
"Your mama must be over the moon!"
“Over the moon is an understatement,” he chuckled, the edges of his voice softening. “She wanted to throw me a big welcome-back party, but I told her I’d rather reconnect with folks one-on-one.”
"Well, I’m glad I made the list," Eve grinned. "I ran into your mom a few weeks ago, and she didn’t say anything about you coming back!"
Terry smirked. "She didn’t know yet. Can’t give her too much notice, or she’ll have the whole block—and probably folks from here to California—waiting to meet me at the airport." He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar, making Eve feel that comforting pull of home she didn’t even realize she’d been missing.
Eve burst out laughing. "My mama’s the same way! I hear her on the phone all the time, talking about me like, ‘Evie’s still single, y’all; I guess she’s waiting on Jesus.’" She mimicked her mother’s voice so spot-on it had Terry cracking up.
“What happened with ol’ boy—what was his name again?” Terry teased, pretending to forget. Eve shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“You mean Keith? We called it quits a while ago.”
“What happened? I thought y’all were gonna be the next Barack and Michelle?”
Eve laughed, the humor hitting her differently now. “Life happened. It just wasn’t meant to be, and I’m good with that.” She wasn’t about to dive into the gory details. She’d healed and moved on. Keith was a chapter she’d closed long ago.
“You were way too good for him, anyway.” Eve’s heart skipped a beat, and she wasn’t prepared for the warmth that spread through her at his words.
She raised an eyebrow, suddenly piecing everything together. “Wait a minute—don’t tell me you were the one behind those secret admirer notes?”
“Guilty as charged,” Terry said with a grin. “Figured I owed you a snow globe after all these years.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You took my snow globe? I looked everywhere for that thing!”
“I didn’t take it,” Terry admitted, a guilty grin tugging at his lips. “But I did break it.”
Eve gasped, her hand flying to her chest as though he’d confessed to a grand crime. “You broke it?”
“It was an accident!” Terry quickly added, his chuckles softening the blow. “Your dad called you downstairs, and I got a little too close to the shelf. Next thing I know—glass shattering, glitter flying—everything was on the floor.”
Eve laughed, shaking her head, already picturing her younger self stomping around in frustration. But now, the whole situation seemed almost too ridiculous not to laugh about. “How’d you manage to hide it from me?”
“I cleaned it up quick and grabbed a towel from your bathroom. It was fine—except for the glitter. That stuff was everywhere—on the floor, on my hands. But since you never said anything, I figured I got away with it.”
“Terry Richmond,” Eve said with a playful squint, “You’re a whole mess!”
“But I made it right, didn’t I?” His smile was a slow, satisfied curve, his blue-green eyes sparkling with the joy of being so close to her again. “And when I saw that look on your face—”
“Wait, hold up,” Eve interrupted, her eyes narrowing playfully, “You were there yesterday?”
"Guess I forgot to mention it. We're coworkers now. I’m the head of security," He leaned back, his eyes locking with hers. "Been around, making sure everything’s tight," he added with a half-smile. He didn’t mention how he'd been keeping an eye on her from the cameras, just to make sure she was safe from all those corporate threats: staples, paper cuts, and heavy boxes…you know, the dangerous stuff. "It might sound crazy, but I couldn’t come at you until I knew I had made things right between us."
“That damn snow globe,” she mused, a smile tugging at her lips. Who would’ve thought her favorite childhood trinket would be the thing that brought her favorite person back? She reached out, taking his hands across the table. “I would’ve been glad to see you, no matter what.” He squeezed her hands, remembering the nervous flutter in his chest when he’d placed his bid on that snow globe. He wanted her to have it, and he didn’t hold back. “I know. But you deserve that—and so much more.”
Eve rolled her eyes playfully, though there was a flicker of something else in her gaze. “Cut it out with the compliments,” she teased, leaning back in her seat. “I’m gonna be walking around with a big head at this rate.”
“You already got a big—”
“—Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Terrence.”
They slipped into a comfortable rhythm, their banter flowing like it had never skipped a beat. It felt like no time had passed at all, like he’d never left and she’d never hidden the soft spot she’d always had for him. It was clear he still didn’t realize how deep her feelings for him ran. Still, something told her this Christmas was going to be one she’d never forget.
“We should do this again sometime,” Terry suggested as they walked back to the office, his tone casual but the hint of something more lingering in the air.
“Definitely,” Eve replied, but her thoughts drifted back to the past, to all the things she’d buried. The what-ifs. The could-have-beens. For now, though, she was content. Whatever this was, it was enough—for now.
“How about tonight?” Terry surprised her, his voice bringing her back to the moment. “We could grab some dinner, or I can bring something over. You still love that fried rice from Gogi Grill, right?” He grinned, already knowing the answer. Eve had always been a creature of habit when it came to good food. She stopped in her tracks, a smile spreading across her face. “I can’t believe you remember! Of course I still love their fried rice.” She stressed the word love, making sure he heard it loud and clear. “And the—”
“—vegetable spring rolls. Yeah, I know.”
“That sounds so good.” she grinned, feeling a spark of excitement.
“What time works for you?” he asked, already getting his phone out. “I’ll bring it all.”
“Eight?” she replied, figuring that gave her just enough time to get home, unwind, and freshen up.
“I’ll be there at eight. Let me get your phone so I can save my number, and you can text me your new address.”
They walked back toward her desk, and Terry promised to see her later. The rest of the afternoon dragged, Eve barely getting any work done as her mind wandered, fixated on what was coming next. The second five o'clock hit, she nearly bolted out of the office. At home, she was a whirlwind—tidying, organizing, putting everything in order. By the time the doorbell rang, she had just slipped into a comfy graphic tee and yoga pants. No need to impress him—this was Terry.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” she greeted with a grin, stretching her arms wide as Terry’s gaze swept over her. She almost convinced herself she was imagining it.
“Feel free to bring the food to the living room. I’ve got plates and bean bags set up if that’s cool with you.”
“Works for me,” Terry replied, setting down the bags of food. As he dished out their plates, she grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, uncorking it and pouring them each a glass.
“You still watch those cheesy romance flicks?” Terry teased, flipping through the channels with a smirk.
“No,” she replied a little too quickly, though, she definitely did.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You don’t have to front for me. I know you too well.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re right. Can’t hide anything from you.” They eventually landed on a BET romance about a doctor secretly in love with his best friend, and Eve couldn’t help but notice the irony of it all. She thought about asking him to change the channel but decided against it, instead letting out a long sigh, a wave of longing she couldn’t quite explain washing over her.
“What’s wrong?” Terry’s voice softened with concern.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, trying to brush it off, but his eyes told her he wasn’t buying it.
“Something’s on your mind,” he pressed gently. “Is it the food? Or something else?”
“Definitely not the food,” Eve answered, “I guess I’m just not feelin’ the movie. It’s... a little too cheesy, even for me.” Normally, these kinds of stories made her feel all warm and fuzzy, but tonight, it just hit differently—like a reminder of the things she might never have, especially with the man she’d always wanted sitting right next to her, still oblivious to her feelings.
“Really? I think it’s kind of sweet,” he said, and Eve froze mid-bite.
“Sweet? What’s gotten into you?” she teased, her eyebrows arched.
He shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “When you like it, it’s romantic. But when I do, something’s gotta be wrong?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Man, every time I made you watch one of these back in the day, you complained the whole time,” she teased, her smirk growing.
“That was a long time ago. I was just a kid then. I’m a grown man now,” he shot back, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.
She looked him over, feeling the weight of his words in a way she hadn’t expected. “Alright, grown man,” she teased, trying to mask the sudden shift in her chest. “Guess it just threw me off, that’s all.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, his tone a little more challenging now.
“Because you were never the romantic type,” she said, but even as the words left her mouth, her heart couldn’t help but wonder if that had changed.
“How do you know that?” he shot back, his question hanging in the air like it meant something more. Eve felt a small pang in her chest. Maybe it was silly, but Terry always had a way of getting under her skin.
“I guess I don’t know, Terry,” she admitted quietly. “You’re right. I wouldn’t know what kind of romantic you are. You’ve always treated me like family.” The last words came out with a little more weight than she intended, a quiet bitterness lingering at the edges of her voice. She didn’t want to admit it, but it still stung.
Terry leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she wasn’t used to. “Only because I didn’t know how to be romantic back then,” he said, his voice dropping to something more vulnerable. “Didn’t know how to flirt, didn’t know how to say what I felt.”
Her breath caught, a sudden heat creeping up her neck as he continued, his voice lower now, more serious. “I treated you the only way I knew how. Walked you home every day, carried your bag, made sure to save some of my mama’s fried dumplings for you. It might not have been flowers or poems, but I thought I was making it clear.”
Eve blinked, feeling the floor beneath her shift. “Terry, what are you saying?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, but her mind was already racing—was he really saying what she thought he was?
“I always liked you, Evie. Always,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I thought... I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
Her cheeks flushed deep, a rush of heat flooding her face at his words. The weight of the confession hit her in waves, stirring up feelings she'd buried for so long. "That’s not true. I was into you, too—really into you."
Terry’s eyes widened with surprise, a small smile breaking through as he processed her words. “But you were with Keith. You got engaged.” He’d seen the engagement photos on social media, and it had torn him up inside. Took everything not to call her phone and tell her she was making a mistake. But he’d convinced himself that the right thing to do would be to step back and let her find happiness without him.
She exhaled slowly, her throat tight with emotion. "He asked me to be his girlfriend... and later, to marry him. At the time, I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You were gone, and I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to tell you how I really felt," she said, her voice quieter now, as if the words were heavy. "I convinced myself that if I just moved on, I could forget you."
“Are you telling me,” Terry’s laugh was low, almost incredulous, but there was a warmth behind it—like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “that we both felt this way all along, and I just didn’t see it?”
Eve let out a breath, trying to steady herself. “Yeah, Terry. I think we both did.”
“Evie,” he began, his voice soft, almost reverent. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers—a touch so light it made her heart stutter. “All these years…” Her breath hitched. She didn’t pull back, but she wasn’t sure how to step forward either.
Memories flooded her mind, sharp and vivid as if they’d happened yesterday—walking home together in the rain, Terry draping his jacket over her head to protect her crown. Splitting a basket of wings at the local chicken spot after school, making do with whatever change they could scrape together. His loud, carefree laugh always chasing away her bad days, like he could make the world feel right again without even trying. Those moments weren’t just the past, they were the foundation of everything they’d ever been. Terry had always been there, steady as sunrise, holding it down in ways she didn’t know how to name back then.
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of her skin. He leaned in just a little, his gaze searching hers, the air between them thick with longing. “Evie,” he whispered, his voice gentle but heavy with desire. “Can I kiss you?”
Her eyes flickered down to his lips before she gave a subtle nod.
With a tenderness that made her heart race, Terry cupped her face in his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. They were softer than he’d imagined, and she let out a breathy sigh that sent a wave of warmth through him. His hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips with a gentle squeeze as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like dark chocolate and candy canes—the kind of holiday goodies she loved, and now he couldn’t help but love them, too. Pulling away slowly, his gaze softened, serious now. “Evie, I’m not looking for something temporary. I want something real. Something lasting. Not just for the holidays or a good time.”He let the words hang in the air, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. “This—us—I don't want it to be just another chapter in my life.”
"Terry," Eve whispered, her hand resting gently on his chest before sliding up to cup his face. "This is a lot… all at once. Before we go any further, I need to know we’re really on the same page." Her voice trembled slightly, her guard creeping back up. It wasn’t easy learning to trust again, to let her heart stay open after everything she’d been through. And with Terry... there was no way her heart wouldn’t get tangled up in this. As much as he hated the idea of stepping back, Terry understood where she was coming from. She wasn’t wrong—they had too much history to rush into something without thinking it through. Their lives were intertwined in so many ways: mutual friends, their parents practically family. He nodded, his voice steady and sincere. “I hear you, Evie. I got you. We’ll take this slow—whatever feels right for you.”
In the days that followed, Terry found any excuse to be around Eve. He’d joke about “checking the perimeter” at work, but really, he just wanted to be near her—catching glimpses of her at her desk, looking effortlessly stunning in those blue-light blocking glasses and preppy business casual outfits. He’d leave her little treats—those chocolate “kisses” she couldn’t resist—and sticky notes filled with jokes or random facts to make her smile. And sometimes, he'd offer to grab office supplies for her, like highlighters or paper clips, even though she could easily pick them up herself. It was his way of staying close, of showing her that he was there.
His presence didn’t go unnoticed. The women in the office—Ms. Ruby especially—seemed to flock to Eve’s desk, trying to catch a glimpse of Terry, pretending they needed something just for the chance to see him up close.
“I’m gonna tell Mr. Charles on you,” Eve teased Ms. Ruby one morning, grinning.
“What he don’t know won’t hurt him, baby,” Ms. Ruby shot back with a wink, fanning herself as she smirked. “I’m just lookin’. Ain’t no harm in that.”
Eve and Terry started syncing their lunches, making sure to carve out time outside of the office to be together. Eve introduced him to her favorite local deli, where he quickly became hooked on the sandwiches and pasta salad. One afternoon, they shared a plate of injera at an Ethiopian restaurant while Terry told stories about an Ethiopian guy he’d served with, their laughter filling the space between them as they reconnected and deepened their bond. Throughout it all, Terry was the perfect gentleman—opening doors, pulling out her chair, and offering her bites of whatever he was eating, especially when they ordered different dishes. It was those little moments, the simple kindness in his gestures, that made her heart swell and open to the possibility of a real future with him.
Even though Terry was crashing at his mom’s place until he found his own, most evenings, he was at hers. They’d curl up on her couch, the TV left forgotten as they lost themselves in each other—kissing, cuddling, fingers tracing over bare skin. No distractions, no rush—just being together. On those nights, Terry shared more stories from his time in the service, each one peeling back another layer of the man she was just beginning to rediscover. In return, she recounted the ups and downs of her college years—laughing over the good times and the challenges. She filled him in on her sisters, Joy and Noelle, and how they had both started families of their own. They laughed about how her brother, Emmanuelle, still couldn’t resist sticking his nose into everyone’s business, despite being engaged to the woman of his dreams.
Terry told her about his mom—how much she’d been enjoying having him back at home. She’d been lonely since his dad passed, and had tried to fill that void with "friends" who never quite measured up to Terry Sr. Eve could hear the love and concern in his voice, the way he cared for his mom’s well-being, even as he juggled his own life. Life hadn’t slowed down while they’d been apart, but now, with Terry back in her life, everything felt like it was falling into place.
Moving forward together felt just right, so Eve invited Terry and his mom, Gloria, to join her family for Christmas. It had been three whirlwind weeks since the Secret Santa exchange, but she couldn’t imagine celebrating her favorite holiday without him. Her mom was overjoyed to hear that Terry was back in town, and her dad—true to his warm, welcoming nature—was all for it, always saying, the more, the merrier. Gloria didn’t hesitate to accept, admitting it had been far too long since she’d seen the Dillards and even longer since she’d enjoyed a big family Christmas.
When Christmas Eve finally arrived, the doorbell rang, and Eve opened it to find Terry standing on the porch, holding a foil-covered pan in one hand and shrink-wrapped sweet potato pies in the other. He looked as handsome as ever, dressed in a cream-colored cashmere sweater and navy blue slacks. Beside him, his mother, Gloria, was glowing—decked out in a vibrant red outfit with jingle bell earrings that softly jingled as she smiled warmly.
The sight of them, so full of the holiday spirit, made Eve’s heart swell with warmth.
“You didn’t have to bring anything, Ms. Gloria!” Eve said, smiling brightly.
“I always bake too many pies, baby, you know that,” Gloria replied with a wink. “At least they won’t go to waste this year.”
Eve chuckled, stepping aside to let them in. The moment the door swung closed, a mouthwatering scent filled the air, rich with the familiar, savory spices that brought her back to her childhood. Her eyes landed on the pan in Terry’s hands. “And what’s that?” she asked, voice filled with eager curiosity.
“What you think?” Terry grinned.
“Fried dumplings?”
“Fried up just the way you like them—crispy and golden,” he confirmed.
Eve couldn’t help herself—she did a little happy dance right there in the doorway, which sent Gloria into a fit of laughter.
“I made them just for you, sweet girl,” Gloria said, grinning. “I remember how much you loved these back in the day.”
“You’re the best, Ms. Gloria,” Eve said, pulling her into a tight hug. “Not a crumb of this is going to waste, I swear.”
Before Gloria could respond, a loud, familiar voice rang out from deeper inside the house. “Richmond!” Eve’s brother, Emmanuelle, appeared in the hallway, grinning wide. He made his way over to Terry, pulling him into a big, tight hug and giving him a friendly slap on the back. Terry adjusted the pan in his hand, leaning into the embrace. “Man, where you been at?”
Terry smirked, taking in the scene. “Right where I’m supposed to be, I guess.”
“Well, good to see you back, bro. Ain’t nobody here that can keep up with me on Uno except you.”
Emmanuelle’s loud greeting drew the rest of the family in like a magnet. Within moments, the entire Dillard crew had swarmed around Terry, wrapping him in hugs, back slaps, and warm greetings from every direction. Eve’s dad pulled him into a big rocking hug, her mom gave his shoulders a quick, affectionate pat, and her sisters squeezed him between chasing their toddlers, who zipped around the living room like little caffeinated elves, clearly hyped up on holiday treats. Terry soaked it all in. The Dillard house had always been full of life, and it was a relief to see that hadn’t changed. Some things were different, sure, but the love and warmth that mattered most were just the same.
“Let me take that off your hands, bruh,” Emmanuelle said, reaching for the pan. “I’ll put it with the rest of the food.”
“Uh-uh!” Eve cut in, snatching the pan before he could touch it. “You’re not slick.”
“Slick?” Emmanuelle raised a brow. “Girl, you that greedy? You can’t even trust me to take a pan to the kitchen?”
“I can’t trust you, period,” Eve shot back. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close. “Especially when I know you helped break my snow globe.”
Emmanuelle’s face twisted as he tried to recall what she was talking about.
“I know it was you,” she added, her eyes narrowing.
He smirked and turned to Terry. “You told her, man?”
Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t say a word. You just outed yourself.” He hadn’t revealed that he was shoved into the shelf, choosing to shield the younger man from being implicated in the "crime."
Emmanuelle shook his head, laughing. “That’s foul, sis. You really out here holding on to something from a over decade ago just to call me out? You oughta be ashamed. All this over some food? You that greedy?”
“I have to be!” Eve shot back. “I’ve been dealing with you my whole life. Ashley, I don’t know how you handle this man. He’s been eating entire meals by himself since he was ten.”
Ashley, Emmanuelle’s fiancé, strolled by, tossing her husband a look. “Girl, I just cook double and call it a day.” The room erupted into laughter as the family buzzed around them, settling into the lively chaos that made Christmas at the Dillard house unforgettable.
An hour later, everyone gathered around the table, plates piled high with Christmas Eve dishes: smothered chicken over rice, cabbage cooked with bacon, buttery rolls, and generous helpings of Ms. Gloria’s Carribbean spiced dumplings. The real feast—the honey-glazed ham, collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, smoked turkey, and sautéed okra—was waiting for Christmas Day. But tonight, this was more than enough. They joined hands and bowed their heads as the family prayed, offering blessings for their health, happiness, and the year to come.
“So, Terry, when’d you get back, bruh?” Emmanuelle asked, already halfway through a second helping of chicken and rice.
“Been about seven weeks. Almost two months now,” Terry replied, taking a sip of sweet tea.
“What?” Emmanuelle looked up, fork in midair. “Why ain’t I seen you yet?”
“I’ve been laying low,” Terry said. “Getting used to civilian life again.”
Emmanuelle turned to Eve with a mock-serious expression. “Evie, why didn’t you tell me my boy was back?”
She shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I didn’t even know he was back until a couple of weeks ago."
From the corner of her eye, Eve noticed her sisters straightening up, ears clearly tuned in. She knew that look—they smelled tea brewing. When she didn’t respond right away, Emmanuelle leaned in, fanning the flames.
“How’d y’all reconnect anyway?” he asked, eyes narrowed playfully.
Eve cleared her throat, keeping her tone light but firm. “We work together now.”
That should’ve been the end of it, but she could see her brother’s curiosity growing. The last thing she needed was for her family to get too nosy about her and Terry. It wasn’t that she was hiding anything, but it was still too early for outside opinions to complicate things.
“Oh, okay, so you saw him at the office,” Emmanuelle said, smirking. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why are you grilling me, E-Man?” Eve shot back, raising a brow.
“Grilling? I’m just asking questions!”
“Terry, what are you doing at the company?” her mom, Diane, chimed in, cutting through the sibling banter.
“Security,” Terry replied, pausing to wipe his mouth. “Keeping the building safe and making sure everything runs smooth.”
Joy, one of Eve’s sisters, leaned back with a sly smile. “Didn’t know the corporate world was so dangerous,” she teased, sipping her spiked sweet tea. “Bet all the ladies in the office are feeling extra secure with you around."
Eve shot her a warning look, but Terry didn’t flinch.
“It’s not really about danger,” he explained. “It’s more about protecting sensitive info. Everything’s a target these days.” He paused, letting his words settle as he caught the curious looks around the table. “But it’s a good change of pace from the military. I like it. Plus, I’m saving up to start my own private security firm someday. I want to give other brothers coming out of the service a chance to transition into something solid. Help them find their footing again.”
The table went quiet for a moment, the weight of his words settling over them.
“That’s solid, bro,” Emmanuelle said, giving a nod of approval. “We need more folks doing that. Respect, man.”
Eve caught herself smiling at him, a quiet pride swelling inside her as she watched how effortlessly he commanded respect from everyone at the table. She’d seen it in the weeks since they’d reconnected—the way his presence shifted the energy in any room. People either stepped aside or flocked to him, drawn to his quiet confidence. He set the tone, and it was so damn attractive. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice how the affection lighting up her face hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the room.
“Well, are you single, Terry?” her father, Ed, asked without missing a beat. He’d always had a feeling there was something between his little Eve and the Richmond boy. He’d sensed it even back when Terry was still too young and unsure to act on it. But the man sitting in front of him now was someone he could respect—someone he could trust with his baby girl.
“Dad!” Eve protested, her face flushing. But before she could say another word, Gloria, Terry’s mom, jumped in with a playful grin.
“He sure is!” Gloria chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Terry shot his mom a look of surprise.
“Really?” Diane, Eve’s mom, asked, raising an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Eve’s siblings were doing their best to hide their snickering. Eve’s little niece sat on Noelle’s lap, eyes wide, watching the exchange with interest.
“You know, Evie’s single too,” Diane added with a knowing smile, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying herself.
“Mommy—”
“I’m just saying, baby,” Diane said, holding her hands up in mock innocence. The room fell into an expectant silence, all eyes locked on them.
Eve shot Terry a look, shaking her head. Their families just couldn’t resist stirring the pot. She thought, Black folks and their matchmaking. Terry grinned and casually draped an arm over the back of her chair, giving her a look that said, Forget it. Might as well lean into it now. Several sets of eyes snapped in their direction, keen to catch every little moment.
Eve and Terry exchanged a quiet glance, a wordless conversation passing between them before she finally decided to rip the Band-Aid off. “Well, since you’re all in my business,” Eve said with a sigh, “Terry and I have been seeing each other. Just a little while, though. We’re taking it slow.”
It was like a buzzer went off at a championship basketball game—everyone erupted with hoots, hollers, and excited chatter.
“I knew it!”
“Talking ‘bout I’m not slick– girl, you not slick!”
“That’s why she been dodging my calls!”
Terry’s mom elbowed him playfully, her face lighting up with a grin. “Why you didn’t tell me, baby?” She’d suspected something was up with all the late hours he had been keeping, but she’d kept quiet, not wanting to push him too fast. Now, though, seeing the joy on his face, she couldn’t help but be happy for them.
Terry looked at his mom, his expression softening as he took in her beaming face. It had been too long since he’d seen her this genuinely happy. He gently covered her hand with his own. “We’re still getting to know each other again, Mama. Taking it slow, ‘cause we want to do it right. Didn’t want to tell anyone too soon, or get your hopes up, just in case.”
“It’ll work out,” Gloria said with a smile that was both warm and knowing. “You’re just like your daddy—considerate, kind, protective, dependable. You’re a good man. Anybody would be lucky to have you in their life. And Eve, she’s a great girl. The best, if you ask me. She knows you for who you are, flaws and all. She’s solid, knows herself, and she’s the kind of woman you want by your side. Y’all can make it work, if you both want to…”
Terry’s gaze drifted to the back of Eve’s head as she laughed and talked with her family, fully in her element. It was magnetic. He couldn’t help but think, She’s the one.
“…and I suspect you do.”
Eve caught snippets of the conversation between Terry and her mom, her own voice blending with the chatter around her. “Yeah, mama, we’ll make it,” she heard Terry say, his voice steady, confident.
“You calling it a night after this? Heading home?” Eve asked when her family finally gave her a break from answering questions.
“That wasn’t really the plan.” Terry smirked, his gaze steady on hers.
Bet, she thought, fighting the urge to grab his hand and tell everyone they were out.
After dinner, they exchanged Christmas Eve gifts with the family. Eve had gotten Terry a new tactical backpack for his camping trips. He’d mentioned before how much he loved getting away to the woods, disconnecting from the world, and reconnecting with nature. She also picked out a cute elephant trinket for his mom, a nod to Ms. Gloria’s sorority, representing strength and resilience. In return, Terry had gifted her parents a beautifully wood-burned sign that read Dillard Family Home. Her parents adored it, and her dad wasted no time putting Terry to work, hanging it up above the door.
Her nieces and nephews tore through their gifts from Uncle Emmanuelle, too big for them to manage on their own, immediately enlisting the adults to help set up toys, insert batteries, and get the noise blasting from their new gadgets. Eve played the dutiful auntie, pitching in to help get the kids settled before she attempted to make a quiet exit, a little earlier than usual.
Her sisters weren’t letting her off that easy, though. They cornered her near the foyer while Terry helped his mom put on her shoes. “No you don’t, girl,” Noelle whispered, with a mischievous grin, while she and Joy surrounded Eve like two sharks on the hunt.
Eve tried to play it cool. “We need to get Ms. Gloria home before it gets too late.”
Joy leaned in close, her voice dripping with teasing. “Girl, please. We already know what’s up. After you drop Ms. Gloria off, you’re gonna be right back with Terry. I been sneaking around long before you even started.”
Eve rolled her eyes, trying to keep it moving while they giggled behind her.
Terry quickly helped his mom settle into her house while Eve sat in the car, fidgeting in the seat, trying to calm the flutter in her chest. When he stepped back outside into the crisp evening air, she reminded herself to get it together. It’s just Terry.
The whole ride felt charged, the air between them thick with unspoken words, teetering on the edge of something both of them were ready to step into. Eve caught herself stealing glances at Terry, her stomach flipping each time his fingers drummed on the steering wheel or his lips twitched into a half-smile. By the time they reached the family home and she slid into her car, she could barely keep her composure. The drive back to her place was a blur of thoughts, her heartbeat drowning out the soft hum of Christmas music on the radio. Enough. Enough holding back.
When Terry knocked on her door a little while later, she didn’t hesitate. She opened it, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside. Without a word, she led him to her room. The space was warm and inviting–signature seasonal scents wafted through the air, and a small four-foot tree twinkled in the corner. Low, sultry R&B Christmas classics filled the room, the perfect soundtrack for everything she wasn’t saying.
“Sit,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, gesturing to the bed. She opened her bedside drawer, pulled out a small gold-foiled packet, and placed it on the comforter beside him. “I know what I want. I want you. I want us.”
She stepped between his legs, loving the way his strong hands explored the curve of her back and sides as their lips met. She’d had a quick sip of wine while waiting for him, just enough to quiet her nerves. The lingering warmth of it heightened every sensation, making her feel energized and bold. She gently cradled Terry’s head against her chest, her breaths coming soft and uneven as she tried to steady herself.
“I’ve been all in, Eve,” he said, his voice low and unshakable. “Always.”
She let her fingers trail along his warm skin, grounding herself in the reality of him—not just the fantasy she’d kept alive in her mind. Terry was the dangerous kind of handsome, the kind that should come with a warning label. He kissed her softly at first, but his touch grew more demanding and insistent as she shed her clothes. Eve straddled his lap, moving closer, spurred on by the way he held her—like she was precious, worth cherishing, and meant to be kept all to himself.
“You’re safe with me,” Terry promised, his lips brushing her ear. “Always.”
And she believed him. She melted into his touch, surrendering to the intoxicating thrill—and the quiet fear—of letting herself fall. Of trusting. Of daring to believe this could be the start of something real, as he effortlessly flipped them so that he was on top. "Thought about you like this," she admitted softly, helping him lift his shirt over his head to reveal the firm contours of his abdomen. "On top of me, just like this."
Terry's gaze locked on hers, dark and intense.
“Tell me what else you thought about,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. He wanted her to let whatever she was feeling spill out. Eve was usually guarded, always careful with how much she gave, but now, with him, she didn’t hold back.
She reached down, her fingers curling around his dick through his boxers. "I’ve been thinking about this," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "What you’d feel like... what it would be like to have you inside me. I’ve waited so long... I almost don’t want to ruin the fantasy." She teased, biting her bottom lip, a playful spark in her eyes. She could feel it—the way that set him on fire. Terry felt his control slipping. Every part of him was primed, ready to unleash it all on her. "Pull it out and see for yourself."
Eve wrapped both hands around him, her touch slow and deliberate, as her fingers explored every inch. She gasped softly at how hot and heavy he felt, even thicker she had realized. "God," she whispered, feeling her body respond to the sensation of him in her hand. Her mind raced with thoughts of him slapping that fat tip against her clit. She imagined how he’d feel inside her—wondering if he’d be slow and methodical, or more rushed and rough. Either way, she knew she wouldn’t mind.
Above her, Terry’s breath caught as he tugged his boxers down, guiding her hand to him more firmly. His chest rose and fell as his mind tried to stay clear. She glanced up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. Spitting a thick glob into her hand, she spread it over him with slow, deliberate strokes. Her eyes never left his, watching him unravel under her touch. His face was tight, eyes flickering between her movements and the ceiling as he groaned softly. The sound stirred something deep inside her.
"You want me to take you in my mouth?" she whispered, her voice soft and sweet, as if she were asking the simplest question in the world.
Terry couldn’t respond immediately. His mind was lost in the heat of the moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on. But when her fingers traced over his balls, kneading them with a slow, firm touch, he couldn’t stop the groan that slipped from his lips. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his dick, her puckered lips gliding sensually over the slick skin. “It’s so beautiful, baby. Thick, too.” She giggled, enjoying the way his hips stuttered when she tongued the leaky tip.
“You’re actin’ up,” Terry groaned, his breath shaky. With one swift movement, he shifted onto his knees, lining himself up with her mouth. “Open up,” he urged, his voice low with desire. He couldn’t wait any longer. Terry fed her his length, hissing loudly when her mouth closed around him, hot and wet. “Mmm... That’s exactly what I want.”
Eve surprised him by staring into his eyes as she worked her mouth around his length, brown eyes captivating him like a spell. Her hands moved over him, soft yet taunting until he was powerless under touch.
"You’re gorgeous, you know that?"
"Yes, baby, keep working those hands—just like that."
“You’re perfect, Evie.”
Terry groaned, his blue-green eyes locked on her. He could hardly believe he had the girl of his dreams under him, ready and willing to please him. "Nobody’s perfect, but I’ll take the compliment." Eve paused, her hands gently running over him as she caught her breath, wetness gathering around the corners of her mouth.
Terry tugged at her bra strap, his voice low with need. “Take this off.” She shifted, unhooking it, and letting it fall to her lap. He stroked himself, remembering the night she let him play with her titties on her couch. He was worked up from all the kissing with no follow through, and she offered to help him release some of that tension. He kissed her breasts while she sighed and worked her hips against him. He tasted her nipples and she arched her back for more. He teased them with his fingers and his mouth, pinching and tugging until she was rocking back and forth in his lap. She panted while he held her in place, thrusting his dick up into her clothed core until they were both coming in their clothes. He almost stayed that night. She clung to him afterward, silently pleading for him to end their self-imposed misery. It took every ounce of restraint for him to leave, but he couldn’t let her body make a choice her mind wasn’t ready to make. Now, he had no more reasons to resist.
“Lay back,” He ordered, shifting to straddle her waist. The new angle had him right where he wanted to be. Close enough to stroke himself against her soft skin and watch the way she responded to him.
"You want to let it all out, don’t you?" She licked her lips, watching his dick twitch in his hand. "I can see it in your eyes. Looks like it's killing you." The tip was an angry red shade. His balls were drawn tight. Her clit pulsed with desire. “You ain’t gotta hold back with me. I want everything.” She promised, her voice soft and alluring, as if she could sense his every need. Terry’s breath hitched, his control slipping. Every part of him was drawn to her.
“You’re gonna make me lose it, baby.” Terry’s voice was low, a growl in the back of his throat. He couldn’t think straight, especially when she took him into her mouth again, the heat sending him into a frenzy. Her hands slid over her own body, teasing her breasts the way he liked as she felt the fire building in her. The way he reacted, panting and whimpering pushed her even closer to the edge. “Hold up–” He started, but she was insistent, forcing her throat down his length until she was gagging. Terry’s body jerked above her, and he spilled warm cum into her mouth and then onto her plump breasts without warning. “Fuck, Evie,” He groaned as she chased him with her mouth. He’d meant to warn her, but that greedy little mouth of hers was too tempting. He fell into place next to her, catching his breath. She didn’t seem to care about the mess. In fact, she looked pleased with herself, giggling as he apologized lowly. She told him there was no need.
"You know we don’t have to pretend with each other, right?" She asked, sensually rubbing his seed into her skin. He watched her slow, seductive movements, wondering how he got so lucky.
“You’re wild.” He felt his dick stirring to life again. “Sit on my face,” he ordered, guiding her to squat above his head.
"This position is new for me," she confessed, feeling a flutter of excitement in her belly. “You don’t have to do anything but relax,” Terry hooked his arms under her leg and held her in place. “Leave the work to me,” Terry pulled her down, keeping a firm grip on her legs as he licked between them. At first, it was tentative, a slow exploration as he took his time learning her body, what made her sigh and moan. But soon, desire took over, and he became more urgent, more greedy. She ran her hand over his head, experimenting with the sensation of moving her hips.
“That feels so good,” She whimpered, loving the leverage the position gave her. Terry seemed perfectly attuned to her every reaction, adjusting his moves based on what made her shiver or sigh. She shut her eyes and quickened her rhythm, breathing heavily with pleasure. With a smirk, Terry took a moment to tease her. “You like when I lick your pussy like this?”
“Yes!”
“Keep grindin’ this wet pussy on my face.”
Eve whimpered.
He encouraged her to move her hips faster with soft taps to her ass. She trembled, unable to focus on anything other than the way his tongue felt. Her eyes drifted down to the sight of him between her legs. “Don’t stop–please don’t stop,” She mewled, no longer in control of her own body. It felt like watching a train wreck, knowing something earth-shattering was coming, but being powerless to stop it. “Terry, please!” She gripped the sheets as hard as her fists would allow, crying out as she reached her peak.
Terry spoke, his voice a low hum as he repositioned her, but she was too dazed to make sense of anything, still floating back down to Earth.
“You good, Princess?”
She blinked, trying to focus as his face came back into view. "Huh?"
Terry chuckled softly, and she buried her face in his neck, letting her body relax against him.
"Evie?"
She felt his hands slide over her back.
"Hmm?"
"You ain’t about to pass out on me, are you?"
"I’m trying not to..." But he kept gently coaxing her, luring her toward sleep with tender kisses and soft whispers. “But you’re tempting me.” She warned, feeling his dick harden against her stomach all over again.
She sat up on her knees, rubbing her eyes as she looked at him. "How do you want me?"
"You’re too cute." He said, patting her bottom softly. “Come get in my lap.”
Terry kissed her sweetly, his dick hardening and prodding at her backside. She reached back to touch it, feeling that it was hard as steel and slick, all over again. “Wow,” She laughed softly between their kisses, feeling the intensity of his desire. “You can't get enough of me, huh?”
“You have no idea.” He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, the playful tension turning into something more serious. “I want you to know I thought about you every day I was gone. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Imagining you like this... all mine.” He gently smoothed his hands along the sides of her hair, trying to tame the wild curls that had grown bigger with all the sweating and rolling around. “I’d lie on my cot, seeing your face in my mind. Every night.”
"Terry… you really shouldn’t say things like that," she said, her voice soft with sudden shyness.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He challenged. Eve swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze. Terry had a way of making her feel seen, like all her walls had been torn down, yet she was safe. She took a breath, reminding herself that she could let her heart lead with him.
"Because I'm falling for you and when you say things like that, it makes it so much harder for me to keep it together."
“Why are you acting like you gotta fight this, Eve?” He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s us.” He took her hands in his, stilling them.
“What if I told you I feel the same way?” She could hardly believe he was saying the words she had wanted to hear over a decade ago. Even if this was some strangely vivid dream she’d drummed up as a result of her Christmas Blues, she wanted to soak in every word, every moment. “I love you, Eve Dillard. I’ve loved you for a long time. I’m sure of it. More than anything else in this world.”
“Terry Richmond...” She started, almost at a loss for words. Hearing him declare it so openly made her feel like she was floating in the clouds. “I love you too.”
“Yeah? You sure?” He teased.
“Uh huh,” She hummed, feeling his fingers splay across her thighs.
“I wanna show you how much. Can I?"
She nodded.
“You want me, Evie?”
She nodded her head.
His hand landed firmly on her ass, and she let out a startled whimper as she lurched forward in his arms. The sound shot straight to his dick. "You gotta let me know, sweetheart."
“Yes, I want you, Terry. All of you.”
Eve didn’t know what was possessing her, making her so open and submissive. She told Terry he was everything she’d ever dreamed of and that she couldn’t imagine a future without him. He told her she didn’t have to. She kissed him deeply, tasting herself as he alternated smacks on both sides of her ass until he was satisfied and lining himself up at her entrance. Her mouth fell open as he pushed his way inside. “Fuck,” Terry cursed as she clutched his arms with that shocked look on her face. He kissed her lips and then her jaw, all tender and sweet. “You’re okay. I got you,” He promised, groaning when she began to open up for him. His large hands slid down her body, settling over her hips as he began lifting her up and down on his dick. Eve buried her face in his neck, biting her lip as Terry slammed into her. He grunted his satisfaction as she dripped down his length and made a mess.
“You feel so good, Evie.”
“Squeezing me so tight.”
“All mine.”
“Give it to me, Princess.”
His words pushed her closer to the edge until she could hardly breathe, gripping his neck and shoulders like he was her lifeline. “You’re drivin’ me crazy!” She moaned into his ear, her walls squeezing around his dick. “Good,” Terry grunted, “That's how I want you. Crazy about me and this dick.” Her eyes rolled back as he pumped his hips harder, the strain in his voice evident. “You were made for this dick, just like I was made for this perfect little pussy.” He poked something inside of her that made her holler. But Terry was shushing her, holding her tight to his chest and cooing in her ear. "Let it happen, baby. I got you. I know what you need. You can take it."
She placed her hands flat against his chest. His grip on her hips were still iron tight. "C’mon now, Evie. Be good to me. You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?" His words worked the way he intended. She surrendered, laying her head across his shoulders and holding on for dear life as he worked her over. "That’s it, baby. I told you you were perfect. How you feel now?"
She dug her nails into his skin and concentrated on keeping her eyes from crossing. You know how it feels, you bastard! She thought, but the only words spilling out of her mouth were sweet and agreeable. She told him how good he felt, how no one else had ever made her feel that way, and that she wanted him to make her feel that way for the rest of their lives. He told her that he loved her and she was the only one for him. She cried, warm teardrops spilling over his skin as she came, yelling his name. Terry held her in place, capturing her lips in another long kiss as he finished, wishing there was nothing in between them.
Eve’s head rested against Terry’s chest, her body limp from exhaustion. Breathless and completely satisfied, they stayed close for several minutes, catching their breath. Slowly, Terry began to stir, pressing a soft kiss to her damp forehead.
"You good, mama?"
“Mhm,” She mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. “I'm just...worn out." She said, her voice heavy with exhaustion.
“Me too,” Terry admitted, his hand caressing her back softly. He never wanted this moment to end. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was on her, focused and intense. It took her breath away.
“Why you looking at me like that?”
“Take a guess,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
She didn’t need to guess. Everything between them—every unspoken desire—was no longer hanging in the balance. It had all become real. Her thoughts wandered to the future—wedding rings, little feet running around. “You want to marry me and have five babies?” she teased, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.
Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You think that’s funny, huh?” She shrugged, her fingers gently tracing his jawline, “Guess I’m funny and fine.” His smile widened, his gaze filled with something unreadable. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Her fingers gently caressed his mustache, her voice a soft whisper as she murmured, "I love you, Terry. I really do."
"I love you too, Evie.”
2025
Christmas Eve had always been special, but this year, Terry was determined to make it unforgettable.
Eve turned away from the window where she’d been watching the snow fall gently outside. It was a rare sight in the South, a phenomenon that only happened once or twice a decade, and she cherished every second of it. Terry had left her by the window, disappearing into the bedroom, only to return a few moments later, standing by the gas fireplace with a small, neatly wrapped box in his hands.
“What you over there scheming?” she teased with a curious smile.
Terry looked over at her, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the nerves he was trying to hide. “Come here, babe.”
Eve took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. “What’s this? You acting all secretive now?”
Terry extended the box to her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Just open it and see.”
Eve carefully untied the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper to reveal a delicate snow globe. She lifted it, tilting it slightly to watch the glittery snow swirl around the two tiny figures inside. At first, she thought it was just a beautiful decoration, but as she took a closer look, the details caught her eye: the woman inside wore a dress that looked remarkably like the one she had worn the year before on Christmas Eve, and the man was down on one knee.
“Hold up... is this us?” Eve gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Terry, her heart pounding. “Terry! Where did you even find something like this?” She knew it wasn’t something you could just pick up at a store. It was clearly custom-made.
Terry stepped closer, his deep brown eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. “I wanted you to have something special, something that showed you just how much you mean to me. Every detail, every piece of it... is us.”
Eve’s tears spilled over as she held the snow globe close to her chest. “Terry…”
He gently took her free hand, sinking down on one knee in front of her, mimicking the figurine in the globe. She stared at him, her breath catching, as he pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket.
“Eve, you’ve been my everything from the moment I met you. It took too long for me to face that, but now, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”
She nodded, tears spilling over before she could even speak. Her voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, "Yes, baby, yes."
Terry stood, pulling her into his arms as she laughed and cried at the same time. The snow globe rested safely in her hand, the tiny figures inside capturing the essence of their love—timeless, unwavering, and entirely their own.
A/N: Happy Holidays! Divider by firefly-graphics. The themes included were for storytelling purposes only. The holidays can be enjoyed with family, friends, or even on your own.
Tag List:
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#AARON PIERRE#TERRY RICHMOND#TERRY RICHMOND X OC#TERRY RICHMOND X BLACK!OC#REBEL RIDGE#AARON PIERRE FANFICTION
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✮ I’M A LOSER BABY SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME HCS
synopsis: in which i give you headcanons about our favourite complicated “ couple. “
pairing: loser!chris sturniolo x mean girl!reader
disclaimers: mentions of drugs [ both mild and hard ], mentions of sex, angst, swearing, the whole nine yards.
✮ mean girl!y/n who keeps a secret collection of chris’ clothes tucked away in a box in her closet, she pulls it out after every fight they have and falls asleep in at least one article of his clothing.
✮ loser!chris who keeps a picture of reader in his wallet, it’s of her getting ready for one of her family’s parties, she had sent it to him on snap and he screenshotted it and printed it out.
✮ mean girl!y/n who has harboured a crush on chris since their first meeting in the high school hallway.
✮ loser!chris who, surprisingly, doesn’t text nearly as much as y/n does, he prefers talking over facetime or phone call because he adores her voice.
✮ mean girl!y/n who needs to fall asleep on the phone with chris if, for whatever reason, she can’t get to his place or wherever he’s crashing for the night, and this still happens even when they’re mad at each other, it’ll be tense and awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but they still fall asleep on the phone together nonetheless.
✮ loser!chris who is smarter than he seems, he’s good at reading people, after years of dealing drugs and running product to sketchy people in even sketchier areas of town, he can figure out when someone is or isn’t who they’re pretending to be, and he can figure out their motives from a mile away. he doesn’t let on that he’s good at reading people and he lets people believe he’s dumb as rocks, because it tends to give him the upper hand when he needs it.
✮ mean girl!y/n who is actually very intelligent in her field of interest and major, which happens to be business & management, and she discreetly takes online courses, but she doesn’t let people know.
✮ loser!chris who is actually a major film and photography geek. he spent a lot of time with nick in the photo lab and joined him on any photography projects nick took after school. and he also enrolled in film courses when he finally decides to go back to get his diploma, and ends up going to community college, which grants him the opportunity to start filming and doing videography for his friends in the music industry. [ future concept ]
✮ mean girl!y/n who helped out at the humane society on weekends early in the mornings during high school. it’s how she adopted her french bulldog named mocha, but she claims to have bought her from a prestigious breeder her family knew [ she doesn’t support breeders or puppy farms, but to maintain her higher status image, she went with a lie that her family and friends would accept ]
✮ loser!chris who has a journal filled with pictures he and y/n took together, alongside little writings about each picture, pages with dreams about her, stories about her, and every single thing he knows about her.
✮ mean girl!y/n who talked horribly about chris to her friends, in front of him, at the first party they hooked up at. it was after they hooked up, and her friends had noticed their state and the fact they had come down sort of at the same time and joked about them hooking up.
✮ loser!chris who has two cats, an orange cat with bright green eyes named matcha and a calico cat with blue eyes named spot. he “ adopted” them both with y/n, [ realistically he was skateboarding home from a deal ( both times ) and they followed him home, ] and y/n named them.
✮ mean girl!y/n who frequently dates guys of the same status as her to appease the gated community she lives in. it breaks chris’ heart every time, but she tries so hard not to give into what her heart is telling her to do.
✮ loser!chris who genuinely can’t wait for the nights he and y/n agree to spend together, he doesn’t do much aside from dealing, working at the skate shop, and partying. he looks forward to spending time with y/n more than anything, in his mind, despite how toxic and unhealthy it may be for him because he knows that she’s only using him, any sort of time and moments spent with her, is better than nothing at all.
✮ mean girl!y/n who actually gets excited every time she agrees to spend the night with chris, she fools herself into thinking it’s because she’s getting dick and drugs, while ignoring the true reason why.
✮ loser!chris who helps out at the local homeless shelter, secretly paying his dues to the kind owner that helped him out when he couldn’t keep couch surfing.
✮ mean girl!y/n who regularly donates whatever she can to the homeless shelter, under either a fake name or anonymity.
✮ loser!chris who hates homemade chicken noodle soup unless it’s made by his mom.
✮ mean girl!y/n who has a deep love for mary-lou, and has a tendency to turn to her about things she’s uncomfortable telling her step-mom.
✮ loser!chris who is extremely close with karina, y/n’s closest friend, after he was recommended to her by y/n.
✮ mean girl!y/n who hates the texture of pickles, but orders them on all her burgers because she loves the taste and will pick them off.
✮ loser!chris who will eat the pickles even though he’s not the biggest fan of them, because he knows that she hates wasting food.
✮ mean girl!y/n who actually isn’t mean at all once you get to know her beneath the surface, she just keeps up the persona and image she developed in high school because it got her places and she’s actually just a deeply scarred and insecure girl who is scared to lose her status and has never healed from the things she’s dealt with.
✮ loser!chris who see a future with y/n, and decides to tell her one night, they’re bother fully sober, and it just slips past his lips.
✮ mean girl!y/n who panics when she’s hears this and tells chris that she doesn’t want that, that she doesn’t want a future together, and chris kicks her out, telling her they’re done because he can’t keep waiting for her.
✮ loser!chris who spirals after breaking up with y/n officially, and gets himself back into dealing, but this time it doesn’t go as smoothly as it had in his past, to the point where he gets into a physical fight with his supplier, and even lands himself in jail after being caught with a kilo of coke, and he thinks that this is it for him, that he’s stuck there for the foreseeable future, but the judge somehow, some fucking way, for whatever reason, decides to grant chris a pardon, with the condition of bail and community service.
✮ mean girl!y/n who pays chris’ bail, dropping the money without hesitation, and she steps into the cop shop with an irritated sigh, and when chris turns the corner, she’s stomping up to him and shoving him back before pulling him into a rough kiss before saying “if you wanted me back, you could’ve fucking said so instead of landing yourself behind bars, again, you idiot.”
STARS CORNER finally some loser!chris content, also some clarification, this type of “loser” is based off the loser guys i went to high school with and dated myself, it’s not based off the geeky type of loser obvs.
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo smut#loser!chris#mean girl!yn#i’m a loser baby
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⸻ ʙ ʟ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ ʏ ʜ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ ⸻
Pairing: Wade Wilson x Fem Reader
Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?
Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
Wade notices you during a routine grocery run, of all places. You’re just minding your own business, deciding between two brands of pasta, when you laugh softly at a joke the store clerk makes. That laugh? It’s like Cupid’s arrow. Except Cupid’s been replaced by Deadpool, and instead of an arrow, he’s throwing knives.
At first, Wade convinces himself it’s just a harmless crush. "She’s just a cute, innocent civilian! Nothing to see here, folks!" But then you smile at him one day when he’s pretending to be lost in the store (he’s not lost, he’s following you), and that smile? Yeah, it’s burned into his brain like a bad tattoo. It’s over for him.
Obsession kicks in faster than a chimichanga order at his favorite food truck. Wade starts shadowing you. He calls it "protective surveillance." Others might call it stalking. To him, it’s romantic. He knows where you work, your favorite coffee order, your pet’s name, and, oh yeah, your emergency contact info because he’s totally hacked into your phone. "It’s not creepy if it’s for love, right?"
Wade leaves little “gifts” for you. At first, it’s innocent: a bouquet of flowers mysteriously delivered to your desk at work, with a card signed “Your Secret Admirer xoxo.” Then it escalates: tickets to your favorite band (how does he know??), a sweater in your exact size, and, uh…a suspiciously clean skull with a note: "He was thinking bad things about you. You’re welcome. Love, Wade. P.S. Hope you like bone décor!"
When you finally meet him in full Deadpool gear (because of course he crashes your evening walk to "rescue" you from a totally harmless raccoon), Wade is… well, Wade. He’s charming in that over-the-top, inappropriate way. He cracks jokes faster than you can process them, and you can’t decide if he’s insane, hilarious, or terrifying. (Spoiler: He’s all three.)
Wade doesn’t see himself as a villain in your story. He sees himself as your knight in bloody armor. He’s convinced the world is full of people who don’t appreciate you the way he does. He’s not above breaking into your apartment to leave notes of affirmation or making you dinner (which you find out about when you come home to a table set with candles and a smug Deadpool sitting in your chair). "I’m like Martha Stewart, but hotter, funnier, and with a body count!"
He adores you. Like, worships the ground you walk on. You are, in Wade’s mind, the single greatest thing that’s ever happened in his miserable life. He talks to himself (breaking fourth wall) about you constantly—sometimes out loud, even in public. "Did you see her today? She wore that cute little sweater I like. God, I’d kill for her. Wait, I already did! Add another tally to the scoreboard, baby!"
Wade is insanely jealous. He doesn’t see you as property, exactly—more like a priceless artifact that no one else should touch. If anyone flirts with you, they’re immediately labeled as “a problem.” And Wade? Wade solves problems. Permanently. Sometimes with a grenade.
Despite his insanity, Wade genuinely tries to make you happy. He tones down the murder (a little) when you make it clear you’re not into the whole “blood and guts” thing. He’ll still threaten anyone who looks at you wrong, but hey, progress, right?
Wade's softer side shines through in quiet moments. He’ll hold you close when you’re upset, whispering (weirdly comforting) jokes in your ear. He’ll memorize all your favorite things, so he can surprise you with them when you’ve had a bad day. He may be psychotic, but his love is as real as it gets.
But make no mistake: Wade will do anything to keep you by his side. He’ll manipulate, scheme, and murder his way through any obstacle standing between you and "happily ever after." And if you ever tried to leave him? Oh, honey. Don’t even think about it. "We’re meant to be together, Y/N. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like chimichangas and guac. Like…me and you. Forever. Whether you like it or not."
Obsessed Wade is intense. He’s equal parts terrifying and oddly endearing, which makes him a constant rollercoaster of chaos. At the end of the day, his love is as messy and unpredictable as he is—but hey, at least he’ll make sure you’re never bored.
@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.
#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#🕊️. wade wilson#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool x reader#dark deadpool#deadpool x you#yandere marvel#deadpool x y/n#wade wilson#wade wilson x reader#yandere wade wilson#marvel#marvel x reader#deadpool x fem reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere male#yandere
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Even If It Kills Me Pt 2
TF Armada Starscream x Reader
• Primus, help him, because the sound you make when he does finally manage to catch you almost makes him immediately drop you. Screaming your little head off as the Mini-Cons flinch away, chirping and upset by the noise. But as he lifts you to optic level, you give up and fall silent. Those eyes are defiant when they meet his glare head on. “So is this where you crush me like a bug?” You ask, and venting raggedly, he doesn’t know what to make of you. Afraid of him, but so blunt. Almost like you fully expect him to hurt you. Like you’re used to it and resigned that it’s your lot. And staring at that discoloration around your eye, it clicks. He’s seen that on the human kids before. A bruise.
• That uncannily human face is frowning at you, huge servos warm where they’re wrapped around you. But not gripping you so tight you can’t breathe. Not breaking ribs even though he easily could. Which means you might get out of this unscathed, though given your track record, you doubt it. Hope is something for other people. “Humans aren’t supposed to know we’re here,” he says before looking down at the little robot that had wandered up to you first and his servos flex against you. You’re not sure if he can understand the little guy’s beeping, but he suddenly vents hard enough warm air stirs your hair. Laying your palms on his hand, you wonder what he’ll do to keep his existence secret.
• “Will it be quick?” You ask and he freezes, because you’re staring at him, expression oddly blank. And he understands that emptiness, of knowing that pain is coming for you no matter what you do. You took his words and assumed he’d end you to protect himself. No arguing or pleading, just tired acceptance, too broken to resist. Too beaten to even think about fighting.
• Optics narrowing at you, you wait for it to come. Honestly it’s kind of funny, you’d just assumed he would be the one to put in the ground eventually. Never expected this, though. If there’s any justice in the world, your death will still get pinned on him. He can spend the rest of his life sober and caged like an animal. One last act of spiteful rebellion against him. And you are laughing now, crying and coming apart all at once. “Primus,” the monster growls.
• Completely at a loss, he looks down at the Mini-Cons then at the human wheezing and sobbing and laughing like a mad thing in his grip. Much more broken than he’d thought. How much further could Megatron have pushed him until this was him? Cautiously, he runs a servo against your hair. Reaching out to you like the kids had reached out to him. And when you touch his servo with a trembling hand, you’re still crying as you look up at him and he knows he can’t just leave you here even if he wasn’t under orders to not be seen.
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I caved and finally replaced my old Wacom tablet so I can remind myself that no, I cannot in fact draw
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I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 22
Chapter 22 out of 50
Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.
In this chapter, Buck is completely blindsided by Eddie’s sudden request to divorce. In an attempt to talk about it, they end up fighting, which makes the possibility of a divorce only more looming.
On AO3.
Ships: Buddie (slow burn)
Warnings: referenced emotionally abusive parents, insecurity
~~~
Chapter 22: Till Divorce Do Us Part
Buck nearly drops the glass he’s washing at Eddie’s words. Scrambling for a moment, before he squeaks out: “What?”
“I think we should get divorced,” Eddie repeats those horrible words, staring down intently at the dishes he’s drying instead of Buck.
“Uhm, why- wha- what brought this on?” Buck stutters, trying to be casual and failing. He can’t show how much this crushes him, can’t let Eddie know how much he wants him to stay.
Internally he is quickly combing through the past few weeks to see if he can come up with the answer himself. To see if he should have seen this coming.
With Carla in the picture things have been going better, but he didn’t realize it was ‘Buck can be replaced’-going-better. Eddie never said anything to indicate that would be the case.
Besides, financially it would be difficult to maintain Chris’s new school – which he loves – and Carla, not to mention their mortgage. So that doesn’t make sense. Though it is possible, a treacherous voice in the back of his head tells him.
He missed the school tour and Halloween, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Eddie personally tried to get him off for Halloween, he knew it hadn’t been on Buck. Is that he thinks that if he can do that alone, he can do it all alone?
It would make sense, but Eddie involved him, right? He helped prep for Buck’s tour, hell, Buck toured the school. He is registered there. Is Eddie immediately going to change that now that Chris is in? Was it just to present a more stable life to the school to get Chris in?
No, that doesn’t feel like Eddie. Eddie is kind and good, even if he’s a bitch sometimes. He pep talked Buck about getting to be there for Chris. That can’t be it. He understood.
Oh god, he must have met someone. They’d always said they would just divorce once other people got into the picture, it has always been nothing more than a marriage of convenience, not a lifelong commitment. The reminder leaves a foul taste in his mouth and he can’t help the jealousy at whatever mystery woman Eddie met. One he didn’t share anything about, he might add, even if he’s now divorcing him over her.
Not wanting Eddie to break it to him, he quickly continues talking before Eddie can. “Oh, of course, my bad. Why didn’t you say? What’s her name?”
“Maddie.”
Wait what?
“Excuse me,” Buck coughs, choking on his own spit.
Next to him Eddie flushes a brilliant shade of red, which Buck would have been able to appreciate more, were he not in the middle of getting his heart broken. Even though he really shouldn’t. Eddie has never been into him, he always knew that, but it truly felt like they were in this together, like this was a commitment on both their parts. Yet here he is.
Though, he never thought it would be Maddie. Maybe this girl Eddie met just happens to share the name or something?
He gets distracted by Eddie’s strong hand slapping him on the back until he stops coughing. His face concerned, though turns back into something horridly, awkwardly uncomfortable once Buck starts breathing normally again. It would be funny, if the circumstances were different.
“Not like that,” Eddie says and Buck can’t help but be relieved, because while he knows jealousy isn’t cool, he knows he will be insanely jealous of the woman that will quite literally snatch his husband away from him.
To cover for his relief, he hides the happy note in his voice by joking: “Good, cause otherwise Chim might kick you.”
“Shut up,” Eddie groans, still very much embarrassed, but at least not as tense anymore. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“By suddenly ambushing me with a divorce?” Buck counters, cringing when it sounds a little too raw, too accusatorial.
Eddie doesn’t meet his eyes. He hasn’t really for the entire conversation. He just stares at the drying rack and picks up a plate, angrily drying it in silence. Buck desperately wants to fill the silence like he so often does, chattering for the sake of chattering. Eddie likes it when he babbles, said so himself when he came home after touring the school.
Home… like he soon might not have anymore, because of Maddie? Because Eddie thinks divorcing him is being nice? He’s so confused and a little hurt. It’s enough to give him the patience to wait Eddie out.
Sure enough, a minute or so later, Eddie breaks. “I just don’t want you to miss out on time with your family because of me.”
The failed attempt to tell Maddie three days prior comes back to him, but he never guessed that this is what Eddie would take from it. That now that Maddie is here, Buck would rather want to spend with her than with Eddie and Chris. That he has real family to spend time with now, because this was never his family to begin with, no matter how much house they played.
“Is this about Christmas?” he asks. “I can still try and see if Maddie wants to spend it with me, so you can enjoy it with Chris and tía Pepa.”
“What?” Eddie frowns.
“If you don’t want me at Christmas so you can have one with only family, you can just say that. I get it,” he says, feeling the bile in his throat.
Eddie whips around so fast he startles Buck a little. For the first time he looks at him, eyes burning fiercely. “What the fuck are you on about, Buck? It won’t be only family without you there.”
Despite the bit of warmth bubbling up in his chest, he can’t help but feel like Eddie is merely saying it because he has too. An obligatory inclusion only done out of guilt. Now it’s his turn to look away, as he quietly says: “We’re a marriage of convenience based on very convoluted circumstances. It’s okay to not want to include me.”
“No. Just no. Fuck that, Buck. You raised Chris, practically more than me. We do our taxes together, we do chores together, Abuela gives you secret family recipes. You’ve been here through more shit than anyone else, of course you’re family,” Eddie explodes.
“Well, divorcing me isn’t really sending that message,” Buck yells back, knowing it is too much, but unable to keep the hurt to himself.
“I’m trying to help you,” Eddie argues.
“It’s not working, Eddie,” Buck retorts, more desperate than angry.
“Maybe it would if you weren’t so incredibly stubborn, Evan,” Eddie says, the words hitting Buck harder than any punch would have.
Eddie might be used to people who argue back; Shannon, his parents, tía Pepa. But Buck isn’t an arguing person, not really. He can get angry and argue, but he rarely does. Prefers not to. However, the ‘Evan’ is too much. It doesn’t sound like how Eddie used to say it, he sounds like Buck’s parents.
He can feel himself shutting down and he puts the sponge on the counter before he says: “No. I am not doing this. I’m not fighting with you and you’re not calling me Evan.”
His voice is calm, but it’s not because he’s no longer upset, it’s just that his emotions have taken a vacation, because that is the only way he’s getting through this situation. With one last look at Eddie’s face – who looks devastated, a fact that would probably do something to Buck were he not feeling the way he is – he turns on his heel and walks out of the kitchen and to his room.
The door closes behind him with a definitive click and Buck just stands in his room for a moment. Today has not been what he expected when he climbed into bed this morning after his shift. His bed is still unmade, civvies still littering the floor. His room looks lived in. Loved. He can’t imagine not waking up here with the Diazes down the hall.
Mechanically he makes his bed and puts the clothes on the chair or in the laundry respectively, his body slowly becoming his own again.
Meanwhile in the kitchen Eddie is staring at the door through which Buck just disappeared, dishtowel still in his hand. He can’t believe he just did that.
He is trying so hard to make life easier for Buck and all he did was cause more problems. It’s seemingly the only thing he’s good at. Buck deserves so much better than his bullshit, but he can’t even give the guy his freedom back without fucking it all up.
Eddie should have known better. Buck never argues, doesn’t like fighting with people. He doesn’t even like it when others fight around him. The only times Eddie truly seen him angry and act on it, is with Eddie’s parents and that is only when they truly pushed too far. So to fight with him? To throw his name in his face like that after all he knows about him? That’s practically unforgivable.
He has to make this right.
Making the bed and putting his clothes away makes Buck feel better. He has settled down back in himself and calmed down enough to replay the conversation. What Eddie said didn’t make him feel great and he hates the idea of getting divorced, but it’s what they always said they’d do. He can’t not hear Eddie out, because he doesn’t want it to happen. That’s not fair on Eddie.
Still, he wonders what sort of divorce Eddie will suggest. If Buck will get to help with Chris as much as Eddie always promised or if Eddie’s solo success will make it that Buck will get a smaller role in Chris’s life.
Buck really doesn’t want to hear it. But he has to. He tries to comfort himself with the fact that Eddie seems to genuinely think it’s in his best interest. It’s not malicious, he should maybe hear Eddie out. If he isn’t still angry.
As if summoned, there is a soft knock on his door. Immediately his nerves start up again, but his resolve also hardens. He doesn’t want Chris to come home in a house where he’s fighting, he never wants that for Chris. So he calls out: “Yeah?”
“Uhm, ‘m sorry,” Eddie says, the words a little muffled. He’s never been great at them when it isn’t his female relatives, so the fact that he’s saying those words to him at all is kind of touching. “Can- Can I come in?”
“Are you going to yell at me again?” Buck asks, not in the mood to be yelled at more in his room, because that means he can’t run to his room. He might be too forgiving sometimes, but he’s not completely stupid.
“No, no, I shouldn’t have yelled at all,” Eddie answers embarrassed.
“Then you can come in.”
The door is opened carefully and Eddie pokes his head in first, scanning the room and Buck to see if anything is out of place. If there is a threat. It’s a little heartbreaking and a little sweet at the same time.
“Wanna sit?” Buck asks, gesturing to his bed and very much trying to stop his brain from playing connect the dots between Eddie on his bed and other things that can be done on a bed.
Eddie nods, sitting down and looking around Buck’s room. Buck sits next to him, but Eddie doesn’t look at him. He’s used to the quirk and doesn’t take offense, instead waiting Eddie out again. It is clear he has something to say, he just doesn’t know how or is too uncomfortable to say it yet.
“Sorry,” Eddie finally says after a long silence. Two sorries, practically a record out of Eddie.
“It’s okay,” Buck says with a small smile, knocking their shoulders together.
“No, it’s not,” Eddie says, the indigence on Buck’s behalf apparently enough to help him over his discomfort. “I was a dick and you didn’t deserve that. You shouldn’t just forgive me like that.”
“Eddie, what good will it do to stay mad?” Buck states, sternly yet gentle, leveling a look at Eddie as he does.
“I don’t know? Boundaries or something?”
“God, you’re so clueless it’s sad,” Buck snorts, earning a glare. To clarify, he adds: “I can stay mad at you, but then we’ll just be fighting. Us fighting makes me sad. You’re obviously sorry and you didn’t mean it, I don’t need more than that. I’d rather just hear what you wanted to say, before it became a fight.”
“I was telling you that you’re family,” Eddie reminds him, suddenly keen to jump on the change in topic. “I thought you knew you were.”
Buck thinks the sad, kicked puppy vibe Eddie has going on now is worse than when he was mad at him. He can feel his own cheeks darken anyway, because Eddie is including him in family. Under no uncertain terms no less. It’s more than he ever dares to hope for, even if he dreams of so much more.
Timidly he confesses: “I mean, I did. I do. You- you just told me to enjoy time with family, as if I don’t do that every day. It got to me.” He looks Eddie in the eye when he says that and can see the guilt in them as the realization dawns on him.
“That’s not what I meant, at all.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I just- I- ugh,” Eddie groans in frustration. “You’re always doing things for me. Always helping me, us.”
“I like helping out and it’s more just doing my part, we’re partners, remember?” Maybe it’s good to remind him of that, maybe that will make it so he’ll soften the blow.
“You shouldn’t have to lie to your sister.”
“And divorcing her will solve that problem how?” Buck asks, now more confused than anything. It is clear that Eddie feels guilty about something, but Buck can’t imagine what. He’s always happily been here, Eddie knows that, right?
At least that might mean he isn’t trying to get rid of Buck now that he can do it solo? Maybe he feels bad that Buck doesn’t have the support of family like he has and wants to try and fix that for him.
Not that Buck calls what Eddie’s family does support (except for Pepa and Abuela). I mean, his parents outright hate all his choices and his sisters aren’t involved in his life enough to have much of an opinion and most of the extended family is either purposefully left in the dark or a little shitty about it too.
Still, it’s sweet that he’s trying, makes Buck feel better about the whole divorce thing, but he doesn’t get how that will help.
Eddie actually perks up slightly as he gets prompted to explain his thought process. It would be kind of adorable, except he is going to explain why divorce is a good option. Now, Buck always knew this marriage would end in divorce, but he’s still going to cling to it, cling to this life he has. It is mildly pathetic, but he doesn’t care. If Eddie can be reasoned out of it, Buck is going to reason to all hell.
“Well, if we get divorced, we won’t be married anymore, thus not breaking any rules. We can say we were already in the process when I started that’s why we didn’t tell anyone. They’ll probably understand and then you can tell Maddie without worrying about her having to keep it from Chimney or us having to worry about her telling him.”
Buck isn’t sure if it’s because he wants this marriage to work for as long as possible or if Eddie just didn’t have time to think it all through, but he can’t help but immediately poke holes in it.
“How will that change anything? We’ll still be written up by HR for not saying, probably separated over it and that is if we don’t lose our jobs. We still lied, Eddie And we’d probably still be a risk, because we’d be raising Chris together. I’d have to check, but it won’t surprise me. Then were will we be at?”
Eddie is quiet, frowning slightly.
When he doesn’t say something, Buck answers his own question: “If we lose our jobs, we won’t be able to afford Carla, we might have to sell the house, and Chris will have to stop at Durand when he just found his place there. Let’s face it, we’re in too deep to ever tell the 118, if I want to tell Maddie, she has to keep it from people.”
At his words Eddie’s frown only deepens and Buck realizes he just told Eddie he’s stuck in this marriage. As much as he wants to be with him, he doesn’t want it because Eddie feels trapped, because Buck wormed his way into a life that was never his to begin with and did what he always did: make himself necessary, so he wouldn’t be abandoned.
“Look,” he starts again, this time more gentle, “if you find someone or you don’t want to do this anymore, we can get divorced behind the scenes. We’ll figure out custody and a schedule so Chris won’t lose a parent again, I promise. But divorce won’t change this thing with Maddie.”
It’s quiet and this time Buck lets it be quiet. Eddie is processing his words and figuring out what he feels about it, that’s no easy task.
After some time, Eddie throws up his hands and – dare he say it – pouts: “It just feels unfair.”
“What does?” Buck asks, a little amused by Eddie’s reaction. And because said reaction makes it seem like Eddie is seeing his side and not divorcing him. Big win for Buck.
“I get to talk about Chris at work, get to take time off to spend it with him, I get to tell family and not worry, and you don’t. It’s unfair,” Eddie exclaims, once again angry on Buck’s behalf, but not directing said anger at Buck. That makes it funny and touching, instead of hurtful. A world of difference.
“It does kind of suck,” Buck admits, because it does. He loves Chris to death, loves his family, he would love nothing more than to brag about it.
But maybe it is for the best, because he’s pretty sure everyone will realize he’s madly in love with Eddie the second he gets to take the mask off and that will mean Eddie will find out about it, because the 118 is horrible at staying out of each other’s business, and then Eddie will run far away from him and break his heart, because Buck isn’t meant to be in love with him. This is a platonic marriage. Platonic.
“See!” Eddie says, vindicated. “We should fix that.”
“As much as I am usually pro-fixing things, this isn’t something that needs to be fixed,” Buck says quickly, before Eddie can take it and run with it.
“It isn’t?” Eddie doesn’t believe it for a second.
“I mean, it would be nice, but it’s not the end of the world. I still get to be Chris’s papi and trust me when I say I brag in those pick up lines at school. Besides, the school interview was an off day, I’m usually better at charming my way into a shift swap. I won’t miss everything. Plus, I am so going to kick you off the science fair team, that’ll be my show.”
Eddie can’t believe how unreal this man is. That he’ll turn anything into a positive, that he sees helping Chris with a science fair project as something fun, instead of a chore. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Buck asks, confused.
“For just being here.”
“Of course I’ll be here,” Buck smiles and it sounds like a promise.
Eddie desperately wants to cling to it, because despite asking for a divorce like an hour ago, he doesn’t want Buck to leave. His own papi always left, his mom turned against him, Shannon left, Abuela was forced to move, army buddies slipped through his fingers. He’s always been on his own, but Buck never left, never made Eddie feel like he wouldn’t be in his corner. He doesn’t want to lose that.
“Me too,” is what he ends up saying, because anything else feels too much like rolling over and showing the soft underside of his belly. He hates doing that.
Still when Buck smiles, it feels like it’s enough. Buck always makes him feel like he’s doing enough.
Buck is over the moon with the promise, the promise that Eddie won’t just leave him like everyone else always seems to do. However, he needs to make sure they’re actually on the same page, so he bumps their shoulders together and asks: “So, are we good? Or do I need to find a lawyer?”
“Nah, we’re good,” Eddie says. Then he clears his throat, obviously done with the emotional talks for today as he asks: “We still have some time before pick up, wanna play some video games?”
“Hell yeah, I’ll kick your ass any day,” Buck grins.
“Bold words for a man, who always loses.”
“You let us play Rainbow Road and we’ll see if you still say that,” Buck bickers, as they get up and make their way to the living room.
Slowly the normal atmosphere returns again and you’d never think they’d just got close to a divorce or that they’d even argued.
Chris is happily oblivious as they pick him up together, just excited they’re getting ice cream and not asking why. Both watch him smear his face with chocolate ice cream fondly. He’s gotten his love for chocolate ice cream from Buck, who is licking his own cone, while Eddie eats his rum and raisin scoop. His actual favorite is citrus, but he never gets it. Buck knows though, he buys it ‘for himself’ sometimes and pretends he doesn’t see the scoops that go missing.
They both know it’s apology ice cream for Chris, who will never know how close they got to turning his life upside down an hour or two ago. It had been Eddie’s idea, the ice cream, and Buck wonders how long he’s going to do the silent guilty thing, where he doesn’t say anything, but tries to make up for something anyway. It always makes Buck feel a little weird.
Fortunately, he needn’t have worried, because after a week of Eddie cleaning obsessively and refilling his coffee like he’s a waiter trying to get a tip, they go back to normal.
It happens when they’re at work, Bobby makes a delicious casserole. Buck is enjoying it when he feels a nudge against his foot. He looks over to Eddie, who looks down at his plate, then at Buck with imploring eyes.
Fondness explodes inside his chest and he gives an indulgent eye roll, even if his insides feel gooey at the silent request, before he asks: “Hey, Bobby, can I get the recipe for this?” getting a triumphant grin from Eddie as he does.
Bobby explains the recipe, while Buck lets the casserole be, so Eddie can go in for seconds. The whole interaction settles something in his chest, finally letting himself believe that Eddie meant what he said during that day.
In a way, it’s been good for them. A kind of check in to see where they stand. They both have an out and both have assured the other they don’t want it.
Buck is still waiting for the day Eddie does, for the day he’ll come home from a date and know that this is the one. He knows his heart will break when he signs those divorce papers, but the knowledge that Eddie won’t just leave him, soothes the sting of that future.
Eddie, on the other hand, has been assured that Buck still wants to be here, that he doesn’t just want to run and isn’t waiting for the day Eddie will be able to do it by himself. They’re partners. A team. He doesn’t have to do it alone, Buck doesn’t expect him to. It’s not a chore to him.
So, they move on, both more secure in themselves as they work together as they’ve always done, while Christmas slowly approaches.
~~
A/N:
This is more communication Eddie has done than in all his years of life combined, but by god, Buck will have normal conversations with people and Eddie’s crush on Buck will make him do wild shit to get Buck to stay (even if he doesn’t know that’s why he’s doing it) ((I am manifesting this energy for Eddie in 8x09))
And yes, last chapter was a bit of a fake out, I fully enjoyed all the comments and felt very evil, made my week, thank you so much <3
Also shout out to Eddie for the giant brick wall he built his a brain and just doesn’t allow him to examine his feelings for Buck too deeply, like I know repression is one hell of a drug, but seriously? This is getting out of hand and I’m writing you!
#rr writing#secret marriage of convenience buddie au#the i do verse#9-1-1#9 1 1#9 1 1 show#9 1 1 fanfiction#9 1 1 buddie#911#911 show#911 fanfic#911 buddie#buddie#buck x eddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#buckley diaz family#bobby nash#tw: referenced emotional abuse#tw: insecurity#buddie au#slow burn#slow burn buddie au
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lawsunoda smut plz
Even back in the junior series, Liam knew he wasn't completely straight.
He couldn't explore much though because of how it might put his career in jeopardy. But now he was in F1, and his attraction to men was becoming a serious problem.
Warnings: top yuki, both of them being absolute idiots, wet dreams and cold showers galore, coming in pants (TWICE), tension, Liam being so far in the closet his gaydar is broken, handjobs, blowjobs, first time getting fucked, cum eating, the pacing is atrocious but if I look at this anymore I will have a breakdown
Growing up, he'd often see his friends almost naked and find them just as (if not more) appealing than women.
He'd had silly crushes, and wet dreams, and even some wank-bank worthy fantasies that had kept him occupied on lonely nights, but nothing more than that.
And in this field it was imperative to keep this kind of thing a secret, in case someone got the idea of outing you to ruin your career.
He didn't dare try and find hookups or anything of that sort in case it got out.
So that part of him stayed well hidden.
He even got a girlfriend, who he liked very much, but it certainly had the added bonus of eliminating any suspicion.
Until Daniel Ricciardo broke his hand and he was promoted to full time Formula 1 driver.
George Russell, the head of the GPDA, took one look at him and said “If anyone gives you any trouble about being gay, you come to me. I don't tolerate any workplace discrimination against my fellow drivers”
Liam thanked him, but assured him he had a girlfriend, to which George just chuckled and replied:
“Yeah, we all have girlfriends mate”
He winked at him conspiratorially and walked off , leaving Liam red-faced and sweating at the implications.
Yuki was a pleasure to be around. He was a bit flirty, sometimes bordering on pushy, but he was nice outside of racing and they got along better than most teammates did.
They'd known each other a long time, being in RedBull's junior program and being roommates back in Milton Keynes before Yuki had moved to Italy.
Yuki knew about his… preferences, because on more than one occasion they'd gotten drunk and talked for hours about all sorts of things while under the influence of good booze and good pizza, in the safe space of their apartment.
But they never mentioned it otherwise, and Liam wasn't even sure Yuki remembered those conversations because he was a massive lightweight and was always incredibly hungover the next day.
That didn't change the fact that when Liam became his teammate, Yuki’s old crush came back in full force, and he followed him around like a lost puppy and tried to rile him up 24/7.
Liam soon realised, that Yuki flirted a lot more with him than any of the other drivers did with each other.
Hell the Ferrari drivers were bad enough, but Yuki took it to a whole new level.
It wasn't outright “I like you, I want to fuck” kind of flirting.
It was more, “poke me and I'll poke you back until we wrestle and inevitably violently make out” kind of flirting.
Which was objectively worse for Liam because like any man, he wasn’t sure if Yuki was genuinely interested or if he was making up the whole thing in his head.
And if there's one thing more terrifying than being outed by a rival, it's being rejected and then outed by a friend.
The teasing continued throughout the season, Yuki getting bolder with every move.
Yuki had been pretty liberal for most of his life, never taking himself too seriously.
He wasn't exactly out, but most of the grid knew he liked to fool around with just about anyone, and he’d had a few male lovers so far.
None of them were as captivating as Liam though.
Liam hadn't got the memo however, because no matter how hard Yuki tried, he couldn't seem to get his intentions across to him.
Every time he tried to initiate his equivalent of gay chicken, (roasting Liam until he hopefully shut him up by kissing him), Liam would just laugh it off as friendly banter.
Yuki was going to have to try a different tactic. Perhaps a more direct approach would do the trick.
The opportunity arose in the form of a bad romcom trope coming to life.
The hotel they were staying in for the Vegas GP had got the reservation wrong.
Either that or the team had purposely booked a double room to cut on expenses.
It didn't matter because either way, Liam and Yuki were going to be sharing a bed for the next few nights.
That was fine. It was all fine.
Liam was a bit nervous but Yuki was secretly thanking the universe for this opportunity.
“No matter what happens, you can't fall in love with me” Liam said teasingly in front of the poor receptionist, who had just broken the news to them and handed them a singular key, but Yuki just smirked at him.
“Too late” he snatched the key from Liam's hand “I already jerk off every night thinking about you”
Liam choked on his spit as he followed him, quickly apologizing to the woman for Yuki's joke before scurrying away in embarrassment.
“Yuki you can't just say that!” His face looked like it had been painted rosso corsa as they crossed the threshold of their room.
“Why? It's true” Yuki laughed humourlessly.
Liam didn't pick up on it though, chuckling to himself as he nervously muttered Jesus Christ under his breath.
They shuffled around the room, pulling stuff out of their suitcases, taking turns showering, and ordering room service for dinner.
“Practice is going to be chaos tomorrow I reckon” Liam said as he chewed on a barely seasoned piece of chicken from his diet-compliant meal.
Yuki hummed in agreement, this was Vegas, the entertainment capital of the world after all.
“Who do you think is most likely to get married in the chapel?” Yuki asked after a few minutes silence.
“I don't know… maybe Lando and Oscar? But they're so shy around each other they'd have to be black out drunk” he laughed and Yuki giggled.
“Definitely, but I think Charles and Max are the ones that need it the most. They both have too many sticks up their asses”
They joked comfortably for a bit and for a while it felt like they were roommates again.
They got ready for bed, both quite tired from their day of travelling.
Yuki was just in a pair of boxers and Liam froze, staring at the extremely fit man in front of him.
He was obviously a lot more jacked than in their junior days, but Liam was taken by surprise at just how fucking thick the man was.
His arms… his chest… his thighs…
Yuki caught him staring and wrongly assumed it was because he was uncomfortable.
“Sorry… I always sleep in just boxers, is that okay?”
It was unreasonable to expect Liam to remember Yuki's sleeping habits from several years ago, but he still felt like a moron as his eyes roamed across the other man's body.
“Yeah, totally cool I'd just… forgotten. You know since… when we lived together… we had separate beds and stuff…” Liam gulped and pulled his own shirt off to avoid saying anything even more embarrassing.
Yuki laughed. “Yes, usually people sleep together before moving in with each other but…” he winked and slid under the covers, sinking into the mattress and yawning.
“Yeah…” Liam's voice cracked and he followed suit, leaving as much space between their bodies as possible while facing away from the other man.
“Night Yuki” he said quickly, turning the lamp off on his bedside table.
“Goodnight Liam” Yuki sighed, doing the same and falling asleep within about a minute.
Liam just lay there, waiting for sleep to take him, as his mind wandered back to Yuki's body.
He could feel his body heat despite the space between them.
He thought about how Yuki had changed so much since their junior days.
Not just physically, he was a lot more confident, more assertive and more outgoing despite his rather shy nature.
He was also funny and hot, and really one of the best friends Liam had at the moment. Certainly the one he'd known the longest.
He managed to fall asleep sometime around 3, and his dreams consisted of short, jacked, faceless men doing all sorts of things to his body.
The person seemed so familiar, yet so unknown as his hands trailed down his back.
One minute he was on all fours, getting railed, the next he was on top, kissing down a toned pair of pecs as his hips slapped against hairy thighs wrapped around his waist.
Despite never having been with a man, it all seemed so incredibly real and natural to him, as if his subconscious was trying to tell him this was what he was craving.
Then suddenly he was on his knees, a pair of hands tangled in his hair holding his head still as the man forced his cock down Liam's throat. He drooled around it, greedily slurping at it like a slut.
“Fuck Liam, your mouth is so good”
The voice was far away and sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn't pay it any mind, he was concentrating on the task at hand: letting this man use him for his pleasure.
He couldn't breathe, head swimming as his throat was abused over and over, swallowing every last drop of the mystery man's cum.
He woke with a start.
The bed next to him was empty and the sun was barely rising, so the room was still mostly in darkness.
He checked the time… 5:29?
They didn't need to be in the paddock before 11… so why was Yuki in the bathroom taking a shower this fucking early?
Before he could ask himself too many questions he realised that he felt damp.
Not like, sweaty damp, more like a hormonal teenager that's just come in his fucking boxers damp.
He slid a hand into his underwear to check and… yep.
That must have been what woke him up.
And another startling realisation hit.
The dream he was having was very fuzzy, but there was no mistaking the voice of Yuki Tsunoda moaning his name as he fucked his mouth.
So he'd just come in his pants from dreaming about his friend fucking his throat…
He jumped out of bed just as the sound of the shower being turned off hit his ears.
Ripping his soiled underwear off as quickly as he could, and making use of his limited time to clean himself up as best he could, he raced against the clock to try and get another pair of underwear on before Yuki came out.
Luckily he managed it, and he greeted his teammate just as he turned around to see the door of the bathroom open to reveal a dripping wet Yuki with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.
Liam went in the bathroom after him, feigning needing a piss just to get out of the awkwardness and avoid staring at his teammates dripping body for longer than was strictly appropriate.
The first thing he noticed was that there were none of Yuki's many products in the bathroom.
No shampoo, no body wash… so he'd just got himself wet?
The other thing was a lack of steam and condensation in the small tiled room.
Yuki had had a cold shower.
Liam knew very well that Yuki hated cold showers with a passion.
Unfortunately it was nearly 6 in the morning and his brain was too tired to make any kind of deduction so he did actually end up having a piss then went back to bed and fell almost straight back asleep.
Yuki however could not.
Over on his side of the bed the mood was more one of mild panic.
Yuki had taken a cold shower in the hopes of getting rid of his erection, caused by Liam, who had been moaning in his sleep and grinding his hips into the bed until he came, moaning Yuki's name.
Liam had seemed so uninterested by Yuki's advances that the man was unsure what to make of the situation and his mind raced until it was time to get up and go.
Media day was awkward, to say the least. They didn't really speak to each other much, but the interactions they did have were short and even the RB staff had noticed how jumpy they were being around each other.
That night, Yuki didn't show up at the hotel. He texted Liam saying he was staying with Pierre and not to wait up for him.
So that was it then. Yuki knew what Liam had done the night before and this was the end of their friendship.
Liam didn't get much sleep, and Yuki indeed stayed with Pierre, ranting about what had happened for hours on end, much to the annoyance of the frenchman.
“Yuki” Pierre sighed dramatically “you are so dumb. You obviously like each other and are too scared to admit it”
“Maybe… I will try and talk to him tomorrow”
“Great” Pierre huffed “Now can we please go to sleep?”
They bid each other goodnight, but Yuki's head was still full of unanswered questions.
P1 and P2 went fine. But at the end of the day they were both exhausted and ready to get as much rest as possible for the next day.
They slid into bed, on the same sides as before, barely speaking a word to each other before passing out.
This time when Liam woke with a start, it wasn't because he'd come in his pants, it was because Yuki was spooning him.
He felt a hardness pressing into his ass and didn't take long to figure out what it was.
Yuki was hard, and gently rocking against him in his sleep.
Liam was torn. Should he wake Yuki up and risk the older man being disgusted and ending their friendship then and there? Or should he do nothing and pretend it never happened?
Somehow with the second option he felt like he was taking advantage of Yuki, given how he felt about the man, but selfishly, he decided he didn't care.
If this was to be between only him and himself that was fine.
He arched his back and pushed himself back towards Yuki, to give him more to work with, which worked a treat.
Yuki’s arm that was draped over Liam's body shifted and tightened around his middle, unconsciously pulling Liam's hips back harder against his movements.
Liam let out a shuddery breath as he let it happen, indulging in the strength of the other man, letting Yuki use his body to get off, and he had to reach down and squeeze a hand around his own cock to avoid a replay of the other night.
He only had so many pairs of spare boxers.
He briefly wondered whether Yuki would come against him, whether it would wake him up or not, and whether Yuki would hate himself for it in the morning.
The universe decided to be even crueler than that.
Yuki moaned Liam's name instead.
Quite loudly. And Liam's dick throbbed.
Yuki was dreaming about him?
Was the man's subconscious on drugs?
Why the fuck was he having sex dreams about Liam?
Yuki continued the gentle movement of his hips, letting out soft whines against the back of Liam's neck.
After at least half an hour, and an increasing sense of urgency in Yuki's moans, Liam thought the older man was finally going to come in his pants.
What happened was much more mortifying.
Yuki's body jolted slightly and he froze completely, halting his movements and his moans as the silence became deafening.
Liam knew Yuki had woken up, but Yuki didn't know whether Liam was awake, so they both stayed like that, hard and internally panicking, trying to pretend to be sleeping, for the next several hours.
Well, obviously they were exhausted the next day and did terribly in qualifying, both of them getting knocked out in Q1.
“This has to stop it's not healthy” Pierre said after Yuki had turned up in his hotel room, yet again.
“You don't understand. I want to fuck a straight man, there is nothing more terrifying than that”
Pierre rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“Yuki listen to me. Liam is not straight! It is obvious like the nose in the middle of the face but you refuse to see it”
“He has a girlfriend! He obviously does not want me!” Yuki whined and Pierre almost slapped him.
“Okay fuck this” he took his phone out and texted Liam to come over to his hotel, now.
Liam was a bit confused but he did as he was told, almost sprinting the short distance between the two hotels.
When Pierre opened the door he looked almost murderous.
“Tell Yuki you want him to fuck you, because you two are driving me mental. I am going to stay with Charles. Please don't get cum on the bed.”
And with that he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Liam stared at a mortified looking Yuki sitting on the bed.
“What is Pierre on about?” he asked tentatively.
Yuki sighed.
“I used to have a crush on you back when we were roommates, you know?”
Liam shook his head. “No I did not know that”
“And when you became my teammate this year it came back… And you told me before that you weren't completely straight but every time I have tried to flirt you have brushed me off so I assumed you don't want anything to do with me. Until the other night when you dreamed about fucking me”
Liam's jaw was on the floor at this point, and he blushed at the mention of that night.
He didn't quite know what to say, so the first thing that came out of his mouth didn't register in his brain until after he said it.
“Actually I was dreaming about you fucking my throat but yeah…” he corrected and they just stared at each other.
They didn't say anything for a long time, trying to decipher what this all meant.
After what felt like an eternity Yuki said:
“Can I please fuck your mouth?”
And Liam didn't hesitate, he dropped to his knees and crawled towards the bed.
“Please” he said, and Yuki groaned, rushing to get his pants down.
This was finally it.
Liam could have cried with relief as the salty taste of Yuki's precum hit his tongue.
He sank down to the base and Yuki choked on air as he watched Liam deepthroat him immediately.
Despite Liam never having been with a man, he’d tried and tested his gag reflex and had found out early on that he just didn't have one.
Yuki was the first lucky bastard to bear witness to that gift of nature.
The older man threaded his fingers through Liam's dirty blonde hair and held him in place while he thrusted his hips up into his waiting mouth.
Liam was in heaven, he was letting his throat be used for Yuki's pleasure and his cock was hard between his legs, so he squeezed a hand around himself.
He couldn't breathe because of how deep the other man was inside his throat, so Yuki pulled him off for a second, and stared at his hooded eyes and the line of spit linking his tip to Liam's swollen lips.
“My god Liam how many guys have you been practising on?”
“None” he rasped “You're my first”
He was about to take Yuki back into his mouth but the older man kept his head still and groaned.
“You have never been with a man?” he asked.
“Nopee…” Liam whined, trying to fill his mouth, but Yuki wasn't letting him. “Please, Yuki”
Yuki almost combusted on the spot.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck my mouth!” he cried impatiently.
Yuki didn't tease him any longer, he rubbed his tip on Liam's tongue teasingly before shoving himself back in to the base.
Liam moaned and his eyes rolled back into his skull as Yuki's balls slapped against his chin every time he buried himself in his throat.
He was floating, almost like in his dream, and his own cock was throbbing between his legs at the feeling of being used like this.
He shouldn't have been so turned on by a blowjob, but he could feel himself slowly edging closer to an orgasm as Yuki's hips stuttered.
“I’m going to come, where do you want it?” Yuki rasped.
Liam answered non-verbally by grasping his hips and shoving him as deep as he could down his throat, while looking up at Yuki with as much submissiveness as he could muster.
Yuki was a goner. The sight of his long time crush completely fucked out, greedily swallowing his cock was so fucking hot that he came down Liam's throat, toes curling at the sudden white hot pleasure coursing through his body.
Liam heaved in a breath as soon as his mouth was empty and it took him a second to realise he had in fact, come in his pants once again.
He was a grown man for fuck's sake.
Yuki had fallen backwards and was trying to catch his breath while staring at the ceiling, so thankfully, had not noticed.
Liam shuffled forwards on his knees and hugged Yuki's midriff, hiding his very red face.
The older man looked down and giggled. His hand went to stroke Liam's hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp.
“Do you want me to repay the favour?” he asked, as Liam's body shuddered.
“No…” he whined into Yuki's shirt “I already uhh… came”
His voice squeaked in embarrassment and Yuki simultaneously melted and twitched with arousal.
“You came from giving me a blowjob?” he asked, bewildered.
“Yeah…” Liam moaned pitifully.
The silence stretched on and Liam was worried that Yuki was weirded out so he opened his mouth to apologise for ruining everything.
But before he could get a word out, Yuki sat up and pulled Liam up into his lap.
Liam was so shocked by the fact that Yuki had just lifted him up like a child, he felt his cock twitch at the casual display of strength.
“Can I see?” Yuki asked breathlessly while his brain short-circuited.
Liam undid his pants and Yuki wasted no time sliding his hand in and wrapping a hand around his half hard cock.
The stickiness made his own semi throb and he pulled his hand out to inspect it.
Liam was holding his breath, surely he wasn't going to-
He was.
He did.
Yuki licked his hand clean of his cum, while making full eye contact.
He hummed at the taste and when he’d finished, he put his hand flat on Liam’s chest to feel his heart beat.
Liam gasped and his hips bucked, brushing against Yuki's rapidly growing bulge. They were both getting extremely turned on again, and the heat in the room was becoming almost suffocating.
Yuki's hand went back into Liam’s pants and curled around his cock once more, to start jerking him off slowly, aided by the slick remnants of his cum.
His other hand went to the back of Liam's head and crashed their lips together in a heated kiss.
It had been a long time coming. A very long time coming.
Yuki could taste himself on Liam tongue and he groaned, tightening his grip which made Liam groan in turn and wrap his arms around Yuki's neck.
As they made out, the hand on Liam's neck went down to his ass and squeezed at the supple flesh, making Liam whine into the kiss.
“Yuki, I need you to fuck me, now” he gasped.
Yuki grunted and turned them around so that Liam was now lying on the bed with his legs hanging off the edge.
Yuki made quick work of both of their clothes and spread Liam's legs, hungrily taking in the other man’s vulnerable state.
“Wait, have you done this before?” he asked, suddenly remembering what he’d said earlier.
Liam shook his head and grinned at him, crossing his hands behind his head, which distracted Yuki slightly because the movement made his biceps flex invitingly.
“Nope… you get the honour of deflowering the great Liam Lawson”
He wasn't sure where this sudden cockiness was coming from, but Yuki just rolled his eyes and went over to the bedside table to grab a bottle of lube he knew Pierre always carried around with him. (Don't ask)
The first finger pushing inside was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant, Liam thought.
Yuki was very generous with the lube, determined to make Liam's first experience as comfortable as possible.
The second finger stretched him out a bit more, and he keened when Yuki accidentally brushed his prostate.
The new sensation sent a jolt up his spine and Yuki chuckled.
Soon enough he was ready, and his cock was angry and leaking all over his stomach.
Yuki somehow resisted the urge to lick it all up, instead he lined himself up and pushed in just an inch.
Liam moaned at the stretch and his hands gripped at the sheets.
“Relax Liam…” Yuki soothed him with a hand rubbing circles on his hip.
“Yes Yuki” he gasped and took a deep breath before the older man managed to push himself in further.
Once Yuki was fully sheathed, Liam could hardly breathe.
Yes it was his first time, but Yuki was big.
But he was also incredibly gentle, letting Liam adjust in his own time before starting to rock his hips in a slow rhythm.
Liam was on fire (in a good way).
He wrapped his legs around Yuki’s waist and pulled him down into a kiss.
The sound of their hips slapping echoed in the room, along with Liam's little ah… ah… ahh’s as Yuki's cock grazed his prostate on every increasingly powerful thrust.
“Yuki!” Liam cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations that were completely new to him.
They looked into each other's eyes as they got closer to their ends, foreheads pressed together making them go cross-eyed. (They looked like lovesick idiots)
“Yuki- fuck, christ I'm… I'm going to- I’m coming!” Liam sobbed as his orgasm washed over him in waves while Yuki chased his own.
“Liam!” he gasped into Liam's mouth as he came inside him, hips grinding against the spot that made him see stars.
They panted and moaned into each others' mouths, coming down from the intense high as Yuki found Liam's hand to intertwine their fingers.
“I love you” he muttered as he kissed down Liam's neck and across his chest.
Tears sprang to Liam's eyes. “Yuki”
The older man looked up at him expectantly.
“I love you too” he whispered and Yuki smiled.
They kissed again, softer and more controlled than before.
They had time.
Pierre wasn't coming back anytime soon so they made use of the en-suite bathroom to take a nice long shower, soaping each other up and giggling like children as they felt each other up.
On their way back to their room, Yuki shot Pierre a quick text.
“We did not get cum on the bed, but you will need to buy more lube”
Pierre must have been waiting with Charles for a sign of life, because his reply was immediate.
“For fuck’s sake, Yuki. I told you to stop stealing my lube!”
“But congratulations or whatever”
#my thots#yuki thots#liam thots#lawsunoda#liam lawson#yuki tsunoda#liam lawson smut#yuki tsunoda smut#liam lawson x yuki tsunoda#f1#formula 1#ask#request
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How did Sephiroth’s first crush experience go?
If Sephiroth ever had feelings for anyone, it was Angeal or Genesis. Or even worse--BOTH.
But Sephiroth being Sephiroth, he has no idea what these feelings are or how long he's had them. They've just been sitting with him, manipulating him whenever he's around his friends. A weird side glance. A sudden flush of heat at the slightest touch. A nervous flutter in his chest. Sudden...less than wholesome dreams at night. A tactical threat to his once eloquent tongue.
Sephiroth confronts these feelings by way of doing everything in his power to suppress them, ashamed of his weakness, secretly terrified that if anything becomes open, they'll be taken away from him. He resigns himself to BURY his feelings at all costs. He cannot let them have him. He was not born to feel such things, and especially towards other men. Hojo would not let it happen. Hojo would be FURIOUS.
After several days of being little more than an emotionless robot, Sephiroth is completely exhausted, internalizing all of his negative feelings, convinced that something about himself is wrong. Why couldn't it ever just be easy? Why couldn't he ever just be allowed to be what he is--a man, a human? Even if they knew about his little secret, what would they find there? Shinra's dog. Their machine. He's not a hero. He's a killer. A cyborg. There's nothing really GOOD about him, nothing natural. All he knows how to do is fight. Who could love someone like that? Who could bring themselves to love someone, something like him?
Suffice it to say, Sephiroth is not taking this well at all.
#asks#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#sephcanons#crisis core#sephiroth#genesis rhapsodos#angeal hewley#ags#final fantasy vii#sephgen#genseph#sephesis#sephgeal
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Bayonetta: Shadows of the Witching Hour by Jade Gretz
Title: Bayonetta and the Cursed Forest
The night was thick with fog as Bayonetta stood at the edge of the cursed forest, her silhouette barely visible against the backdrop of twisted trees and creeping shadows. The air around her was cold, unnaturally so, and the silence that hung over the forest was oppressive, like the calm before a storm. In the distance, the moon was little more than a sickly sliver, its light choked by the dense, swirling clouds overhead.
Bayonetta adjusted her glasses, her gaze narrowing as she peered into the murky depths of the forest. The Witch Hunts of old had whispered of this place—a dark, forbidden land where even the bravest of witches dared not tread. But Bayonetta was no ordinary witch, and the rumors that spoke of powerful spirits and ancient sorcery lurking within only served to fuel her curiosity.
The forest had claimed the lives of many, but Bayonetta felt no fear. She was a warrior forged in the fires of the Umbra, a master of the dark arts, and the bearer of power beyond mortal comprehension. If there were secrets hidden in the heart of this cursed wood, she would uncover them, and if there were spirits that sought to challenge her, she would crush them beneath her heel.
With a graceful flick of her wrist, Bayonetta summoned her guns, Scarborough Fair, their silver barrels gleaming in the dim light. The weapons felt light in her hands, an extension of her will, as natural as breathing. She twirled them once before letting them rest at her sides, her lips curling into a confident smirk. Whatever awaited her in the darkness, she was more than ready.
The moment Bayonetta stepped into the forest, the atmosphere shifted. The temperature dropped further, and the air became thick with the scent of decay and damp earth. The trees loomed above her, their gnarled branches twisting into grotesque shapes, as if they were trying to reach out and snatch her from the path. The fog swirled around her ankles like a living thing, coiling and uncoiling with every step she took.
As she ventured deeper, the shadows seemed to …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)
#ai#aiart#digitalart#jadegretz#fantasyart#fanart#beautifulgirl#aiartwork#aiartcommunity#videogameart#gamer#arcade#bayonetta#ai art#digital art#jade gretz#fantasy art#fan art#beautiful girl#ai art work#video game fan art
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anyway so im rewriting the specials to get yaz in there right and you kinda need her out of the way for wild blue yonder so im keeping her in the tardis to do the manual part of the repairs i guess but just the idea of yaz being There but Just out of sight but very much like,,,,Present, as an agent in the story, while this interaction happens:
which is then Immediately followed by the tardis with her inside Disappearing, just lends a whole lot of fuckin,,,,,,,depth of flavour that you really dont even need to do anything for
#the hardest part of this is figuring out the donna&yaz dynamic for me#i cant write donna ive never written donna#i feel like donna would be sooort of approaching yaz like she approached martha back in s4#but i dont think yaz would be as receptive to that as martha#bc yaz. is. in much the same state as the doctor is. in terms of trauma and running on fumes and lets just keep running and not talking#except that she /didnt/ just regenerate to become weirdly honest about her affections#she still loyal devoted 'shes fine shes fine' never told anyone running from home just said goodbye to one of her best friends#And also to maybe her first real romantic love who Died But Didnt#dealing with all of that as quietly as shes dealt with alll the rest of it up till now#thrown into this situation where she knows no one and the doctor knows everyone and everyone knows the doctor but she knows no one not even#this doctor#all that just to say. i dont think she'd be very friendly with donna#polite. mostly. probably. but also having lots of feelings#that are gonna be...........difficult..........i think for all three of them to deal with#bc donna doesnt know what shes dealing with in terms of doctor/yaz#maybe she assumes a friend. or else a rose or a martha situation. bUT. yaz is none of those#yaz isnt making hearteyes or Yearning In Secret at this point yaz is grieving and also i think trying to figure out her place#shes more of a river situation. not really. comparison doesnt entirely work. but like. river in the library. vaguely#more that than the secret crush thing that it was#and the doctor knows Exactly whats going on with yaz but yknow. Busy. and they havent really had a moment alone to talk abt it#if theyre gonna talk abt it#and donna is pushing the doctor in their familiar dynamic and yaz is just sort of...........squished between that#trying to stand her ground while not even really knowing where or what that ground even IS#anyway so. tldr. Complicated#complicated dyanmic and complicated to balance so i dont sacrifice any of the doctor&donna stuff#which might happen a little anywaybc i have a clear yaz bias but im trying to mitigate it as much as i can
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I love Steph's origin as told in the Secret Origins 80 page giant- I just overall think it strengthens her character by giving her a lot of pathos and adding to her heroism (which isn't something writers were focused on in her actual intro in detective comics #647 since she was just meant to act as a plot device back then) BUT there is one tiny detail in it i will begrudge, and that is the portrayal of her having a minor love at first sight moment for tim
Secret origins 80 page giant, ID in alt
(or well, technically this was their second meeting in that story (the brick was the first) so...love at second sight?)
Mostly because Stephanie showed no interest in her introduction and only showed romantic feelings towards Tim AFTER this moment here:
Robin (1993) #4, ID in alt
Straight up the progression here goes:
The adventure in 'tec where they first meet -> Tim investigating the same crime scene as Steph -> she beats him up not knowing it's him at first, apologizes but says he shouldn't have scared her -> he remembers her/the moniker she goes by -> they talk about plot for a few pages -> Stephanie starts flirting
Robin (1993) #4, ID in alt
Which...is so fascinating to me and says so much about Stephanie. She highlights the fact that Tim "remembered" her. Like. Steph. Girl. This is our bar? It's sweet but kind of speaks to how much Stephanie is ignored at home/how little and sporadically she's shown interacting with her peers (and rarely ever the same kids twice). Her idea of peak romance is just...being on someone's mind even when you're not there.
Kind of also adds layers to Steph's proclivity towards jealousy later on, a manifestation of her insecurity and loneliness (though don't get it twisted, she's not written this way bc Dixon and co think it's an interesting character flaw, they wrote it bc they think it's an inherent character flaw of (particularly young) women/girls, which is very apparent in how he approaches Ariana's character as well from what I've read)
Also the fact that Steph becomes so smitten for Tim almost immediately after this is (a few issues later she aggressively flirts with him during AN ACTIVE HOSTAGE SITUATION. WHERE SHE'S THE HOSTAGE) again is kind of a mixture of kind of funny and sad. One boy is nice to her once and she's fully ready to wife him. Girl you are deranged (affectionate) (concerned)
#ramblings of a lunatic#dc comics#stephanie brown#tim drake#timsteph#meta#< ??? ig#robin 1993#made this post and forgot to finish. saved it in drafts. saw posts that annoyed me. proceeded to finish it#the subset of fans who think they're doing a righteous feminism by giving steph more flaws than she has in canon...headaches#yes flawed female characters are important representation no i dont think you projecting chuck dixons conservative values onto her-#-is doing her character a great favour. if so you need to commit to the bit and make tim a stone cold nark /j#sorry okay im done vaguing. there's real things going on in the world that matter. the bad take is the mind killer etc etc#anyway the zero to 100 progression of early timsteph is fascinating. on the one hand i know it's mostly a product of its time#both in terms of portrayals of romance (esp teen romance) and partially of women and girls by dixon (not extremely boy obsessed-#-but there's a. dark shadow of the boy crazy trope. a gentle whiff of it in the air. just a little)#but bc this aspect isn't blatantly/egregiously author bias i choose to analyse it#i could also analyse how steph in general is portrayed as liking guys she can't/shouldn't have a little#(her crush on the much older detective in bg2009 and also tim a little bit w/ the secret identity thing)#(but that's a whole other discussion. also that aspect of the romance in bg2009 is. also a little sexistly motivated-#-and also dropped part way through to an extent so like..not exactly ripe for analysis)#ANYWHO i love you Steph <3 you're unwell and yet so adorable and compelling Steph <3
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making posts about headcanons that have basically no textual backing makes me itchy but someday i should probably elaborate on my opinion that "mirabelle being aroace is the one thing keeping her oblivious to the fact that the dormont house of change is the religious coven equivalent to fleetwood mac"
#i was reading claude's pursual of euphrasie as cute but ill advised the whole time. like i was cheering for her but in the same way#you'd cheer for like. a vriska. as in 'you go girl i love your chutzpah but this is going to end HORRIBLY you shouldnt be doing it'#like i think i have a slightly less charitable reading of euphrasie's communication abilities than most. i think theres a lot of signs that#she. much like everyone else in the entire game. couldve done with perhaps talking to the people she was supposed to like. trust#a bit more than she did. she seems to keep a lot of secrets that maybe wouldve been helpful for people to know. like mirabelle#or maybe it simply was that mirabelle was uniquely uninformed. though that seems odd given her dilligence#anyway most of all i generally think that romantically pursuing your very tall and pretty HEAD BISHOP/BOSS when you are#EFFECTIVELY SOME KIND OF NUN is absolutely baller and i love claude for it but that's such a WORKPLACE HAZARD#IT IS SUCH A WORKPLACE HAZARD. THERE SHOULD BE SAFEGUARDS IN PLACE. GIRL.#anyway finding out that by Word of God they are in fact Gal Pals was a bit disappointing to me. i was enamoured by the chase#i wanted claude to be more tortured than she truly was i do suppose#sigh. such is the way of things. she shall have to live on as a total girlfailure butch in my mind alone... i also thought itd be cute if#she was crushing on mirabelle too but thats even LESS founded in the text so im zipperlips'd on that#lucabytetalks#dont pretend like you people are surprised by the tag ramble being 3x the length of the post by this point. thats normal for me
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i think its kinda funny that ibis paint is regarded as the Broke Artist App or whatever (as opposed to more mainstream programs like csp or procreate) because its free and because of how popular it is with phone + finger artists while im jusg sitting here having used ibis for a cool eight years on purpose.
like i have an ipad and an apple pencil and all theyre very nice and i absolutely could move to a more powerful program i have the resources to do so but my change averse brain has decided they like it here a lot and im not leaving
#not talking smack on phone and finger artists btw. some of my mutuals use their fingers and their art goes crazy i respect that so much#even when i did use my phone (most of 14 crush was done on a phone!) i still had to use a cheap rubber stylus hahaha#anyway maybe ill try procreate someday but also i hate learning new programs and i like ibis's brushes too much#fingers crossed that they add fully custom brushes someday though#like id love to be one of those artists that makes really cool art with ridiculous shapes and nobody even knows until they tell you#younger artists might not know this but modern ibis is STACKED compared to how it was in 2015#like i remember when clipping layers were first implemented. and they sucked. like they didnt fully go over the lower layer#so it just left a gross tiny outline around the shape#and there wasnt any border or text tools either#and there was a hard cap on layer count depending on your device's storage and the canvas size#modifying brushes wasnt even a thing HAHAHAHAH you just used what you had#anyway okiku reference window unrelated shes just there for something else im working on<3#bri talks#for the record all this is to say i think the smack talk towards ibis is pretty unwarranted#like yeah maybe its not as powerful as a lot of these fancy paid apps but i honestly think its insanely good for being a free program#i think getting rid of the ads costs more now than it did when i paid to get rid of them but i mean#free with ads is still a lot more than csp's ever gonna give you!!!!#(psst. secret from me to you! you wont get any ads if you disable the app's data usage and turn off wifi when you use it)#(alternatively just use airplane mode but you can still get texts and stuff the first way)
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Firestar, my beloved~~
Okay, here are some pics that never made the final cut for any posts but I still liked for various reasons. So, in order:
How I often imagine a young Firepaw looked like (if we headcanon him as an abyssinian )
Just a cool photo that better supports that whole "Fire alone shall save the clan" thing
An older and more jaded, but still cool fourth-cat-i-am-forever-a-part-of-prophecies-Firestar
More of a personal daydream where Fireheart bitch-slaps Spottedleaf for basically not letting him live in peace with Sandstorm
#Firestar#some headcanons#warriors#warrior cats#these are my miscellaneous pics that are a bit better than the trashcan so#miscellaneous collection#listen i get spottedleaf's whole crush thing but boy wasnt even a year old#plus she was a medicine cat AND i never got the romantic vibe? they only had a few neutral conversations and nothing else#would be easier to excuse if FIREPAW showed his secret crush to us readers but genuinely i cannot for the life of me remember smth like tha#it seems more to me that this relationship developed more only AFTER spottedleaf died which is... yeah...#anyway there's my two cents lmao
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