#she confided in somebody she thought was safe

[jadeazora]

You know tho, if all my speculation about ZA being set in the past turns out to be wrong and it's more slightly-pre/sometime-post-XY, I really just want them to finally explain what this was. Give her an entire side quest, I beg of you. (Bonus points if it's related to Team Flare like I always liked to headcanon, but not a deal-breaker if it isn't. I would just be happy with an explanation.)

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 2

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨

A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵

Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3

Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.

"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"

"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.

"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.

"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.

"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."

Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.

"This is on me... my bloody fault"

"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."

"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

-

Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.

"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"

"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...

Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.

This is Ghost about to fight.

-

For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.

Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.

"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm not on duty, Captain."

"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."

You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."

Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"

"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."

Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.

"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.

When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.

"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.

"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."

He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.

"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.

"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."

You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.

"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."

"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.

"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.

"No." Simon growls at the same time.

"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"

"Absolutely."

A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.

A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.

"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.

Everyone goes silent.

"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.

He's fucked.

[etclouie]

Do you think that you could do a drabble about the twd boys types? Or Alternatively if you don't like that one maybe what they like in people they date? Tyy -Anon

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 their type(s)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: age gap (negan), references to sex (shane), no bodily descriptions - just characteristics

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 includes; rick grimes, daryl dixon, negan smith, shane walsh, abraham ford, and glenn rhee

drabbles masterlist | main masterlist

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ rick - i think his type is someone with confidence, or someone who can match him. someone who is willing and confident enough to protect their family, is exactly where his heart lies. 

because in my opinion, when rick kinda loses his head, he doesn’t think straight so having a girl he can rely on to keep his family safe when he can’t is all he wants. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ daryl - someone he can be soft with is his type i feel. he’s always been an outsider, typically, and keeps to himself. so finding someone who he can let his walls down around is the best thing for him. 

personally, i think daryl loves being held. so finally finding a girl he can let his walls down around, and just let her hold him is all he truly wants in a girlfriend. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ negan - dare i say, younger girls. am i feeding into my own thoughts? maybe. however, i think it fuels some sort of power play he has and he revels off of it. 

the age difference gives him this dynamic of having power over his girlfriend and it gets to his head really. she has him wrapped around her finger, but he’s still in charge. wouldn’t have it any other way

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ shane - i think his type would be somebody with the same sex drive, like sure a pretty face matters but it doesn’t bother him. he’s always horny and ready to go, so someone that matches his drive is perfect for him. 

obviously, he’s respectful if you don’t always feel the same level of horny as him, but someone that matches him is his ideal type.  

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ abraham - personally, i don’t think he has a set type, but he’s drawn towards loyal people. anyone who’s loyal has him hooked. 

after being so set on getting eugene to washington, and the loyalty he showed there, finding someone with the same willpower and being deadset just like him, i think that’s exactly what he looks for in a partner. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ glenn - a girl that’s kind, that’s all i think he looks for in a girlfriend. obviously with the fall of the world, kindness isn’t always something people show first or willingly, so having a girl that is kind regardless has his heart. 

even more so if she’s kind to kids, deep down i feel as if glenn has always wanted kids, so seeing the girl he wants being kind to kids clears any doubt in his mind. 

reblogs are highly apreciated !

[dwaekkicidal]

Hii 🫶🏻

First off: I have to tell you your Han series has me in a chokehold I CAN NOT get over it! 😍😍 it just hit all the right spots 😍😫

I don’t know if your request are open but if they are could I request with Han and female reader where Han is jealous/possessive of his girlfriend? Maybe because she is still in the same friend group with her ex or if you prefer give it any other motivation. It can be either swf or nswf, do as you prefer really (but if it is nswf could you make the reader to have a big breast and Han with a 🍒fixation maybe?)

Anyway I love you blog! Have a nice day! 🫶🏻😘

me when i get to self insert myself into a fic cause i have big boobies😼 ALSO TY ASDHJKASDJK i kept feeling really insecure about that series but its getting so much love :''))) im happy you are enjoying it as well as my blog <3

Cherries

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.8k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, reader has big boobs but no other physical features described, ex has they/them pronouns, kinda out of character ji?, exhibitionism, nipple play, brief mentions of p in v

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han’s eyes were narrowed, so sharp that you could cut diamonds with it. He watched intently as you conversed casually with your friend group. It’s not something he thought he would ever see himself getting genuinely mad over, but the familiar face in the crowd made his blood boil.  Had this exact situation taken place more than a year ago, Jisung would have been an anxious mess. Probably would be fiddling with his jacket’s sleeves and restlessly bouncing his leg while his mind went to the worst places possible. But now, after dating you for over 2 years, he was more confident in himself.

Don’t be fooled! He still gets jealous easily. Very easily… but it doesn’t make him as angsty as it used to. Nowadays all he feels is anger. The only thoughts that fill his mind are ones along the lines of “How dare that person talk to my girlfriend like that. Who do they think they are?” while strangers blatantly flirted with you, and he would make fun of them with words like “Did you see their face when you rejected them?? Fucking loser lol” when you would make a face and deny them before running back into his arms.

But those were with strangers. Not with your stupid ex. The same ex who made you hesitant going into this relationship with Han in the first place. And the same ex that managed to snake their way back into your friend group. While his thoughts were about the same, Han wasn’t very keen on taking his eyes off of them. The trust was still there with you, but he knew better than to trust your ex. The slimy, sugar-coated lies they told the group wouldn’t work on him. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder cut him from his thoughts. He was in full fight mode and completely missed the way you walked up to where he was on the couch. The game room the group had rented out for a few hours was filled with their booming voices and a random playlist off of somebody's Spotify. Some people were playing pool while the others stood nearby to watch and instigate mini brawls here and there. He was the only one who idly sat on the couch, drink in hand.

You knew he was in guard dog mode because of your ex’s presence so you made sure to break your attention from the group regularly to check up on him. Only this time he accidentally ignored you, so you made your way towards him. “You okay, Ji?” You smiled sideways and tilted your head, stealing a sip from his soda and settling yourself between his legs. Immediately all the anger drained from his body and he smiled up at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and he sat up, pulling you closer as he nodded.

“Yeah... Sorry haha.” You smiled sweetly and placed his cup on the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his neck once the cup was safely set down. “It’s okay, I know the situation is a little uncomfortable.” You whisper and tighten your hold around him, squeezing him lovingly and giggling to yourself when he rests his cheek against your chest. He grins like an idiot at his personal pillow and shoves his face harder until you eventually get red in the face and push him back. “Hey now… We’re still in public.”

“That can change. Let’s go home right now and I’ll show you a good time?” He smirks and pulls you closer. His chin rests against the top of your chest and he looks up at you with puppy eyes and his signature pout. “C’monn… I’ve been good all day.” His hands drop down to your hips, digging his fingers into them as his voice drops an octave, “‘Promise to show you a good time. You know Hannie always takes care of his baby-”

Your name gets called and the both of you jump. You chuckle and turn in his grasp, now standing sideways to respond to the person. He let his eyes return to your group, simply curious about who you interrupted his begging but was made even angrier by the expression that painted your ex’s face. They were frowning deeply behind their drink and glaring at the two of you, obviously wired up about his hands that were wrapped around you. Han stared back with the same fire, knowing all too well what the other person wanted. But then he smiled to himself.

As you casually chatted with your friend, Han let his hand fall down to your waist. He did it at an angle that only showed it off to your ex, making them watch as his hand slipped under your shirt. The fabric bulged out as he grabbed a handful of your tits, kneading the flesh there as they held eye contact. Eye contact that was held as he leaned in, hiding his face from everybody else as he wrapped his lips around your clothed nipple. He made a show of even sticking his tongue out and licking your nipple over your shirt while his other hand continued to squeeze the other boob from, what seemed like, the inside of your bra

Han’s ego inflated to the size of the sun as he watched your ex’s jaw drop. Their eyes went up to your face and, besides the blush that covered it, there wasn’t a single reaction. You were so used to it that the obscene action didn’t even make you flinch. Which only pissed your ex off more. They huffed and shook their head, walking to the door and mumbling something along the lines of ‘Fuck this.’ While everybody’s attention turned to the first person to leave the function, you turned to your boyfriend and shook your head at him. “Really? All that about behaving too.”

“Not my fault their edgy ass didn't like it. I licked it so it’s mine.” You laughed and parted from your boyfriend, returning back to the pool table. After that, it didn’t take long for everybody to separate. The people who didn’t have the balls to be the first to leave shortly made their way out after your ex did. Your boyfriend was one of them as well and quickly made it obvious to you that he genuinely wanted to leave soon, so you both bid your farewells and made your way outside.

The second your food hit the concrete, Jisung dragged you to the nearest empty alleyway. One that, if the sun wasn’t already set, would have been very easy to look down and see the two of you. Alas, your boyfriend did not have a single care about that. If anything, the thought of somebody seeing you only egged him on.

Han shoves you into the brick wall, slamming his lips against yours and running his hands all over your body. They started at your thighs, where he squeezed the flesh of your thighs before sliding up to your hips and doing the same. Then his hands rested at your hips for a moment. He was too distracted pushing his tongue past your lips to continue on with his expedition. Once you both found a comfortable rhythm and your hands ran up his arms, he started moving again.

This time he slowly ghosted his hands up your stomach and stopped at your chest where he squeezed your boobs tightly. Then he pulls away from your lips, smirking at you and pecking your cheek before dipping his head down. You feel his lips against your neck and you moan quietly before rolling your neck to the side, giving him more space to work with. He doesn't linger there for long though. As much as your boyfriend loves marking you up, he only leaves a single one to your neck before he dips even lower.

He leaves a trail of kisses on his way to your boobs and, before you have the chance to react or push him away, his hands tug your shirt up to your neck. “Ji- Wait until we get home, baby. We shouldn’t do this he-” He cuts you off by nibbling your right nipple through your bra. His other hand slides under the bottom hem of your bra, grabbing a handful of your boob and rubbing that nipple between his middle knuckles. You moan loudly and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging it in hopes that he would pull away but also stop and just take you to do this at home.

He moans against your clothed nipple and licks it seductively through the fabric, looking up at you with those brown boba eyes. Despite his lack of words, you already know what those pretty eyes want. You bite your lip and nervously look towards the entrance of the alley, watching as cars dart back and forth. But no people. “F-Fuck. Fine. But make it quick!” He smiles widely against you and nods.

His head pulls away from you for a moment, only to allow him to reach around and undo your bra. He doesn’t even bother taking it off of you, he just pushes it up with your shirt and dives back in. “Mine.” A loud moan leaves your lips as he suddenly bites the side of your tit, then he apologetically licks over his teeth marks. “Yours.” He smiles and grabs both of your boobs, fondling them as he alternates his attention to each nipple.

“God. I fucking love your tits, Jagi. And they’re all mine, right?” You nod and throw your head back as you moan, gripping his strands even tighter than before. He moans and bucks his hips into the air. “Answer me.” One of his hands moves down to your thighs and slides up under your skirt. It dips deeper, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties before wrapping around behind you and grabbing a handful of your ass cheek. “Jagiya… Say. It. A-gain.” He lands a sloppy slap to your ass with each word, smiling into your boob when your legs clench together.

“‘M yours, Ji! Please, babyy~” He wastes no time after that, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out. The hand that was on your ass pumps his dick a few times as his other pushes your leg up, holding it up and giving him space to fuck into you. His mouth finally releases your nipple in favor of poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he pushes in. Both of you moan at the feeling and lock eyes for a moment before he leans in and pushes his lips against yours.

He pulls away and leans down again, wrapping his lips around your neglected nipple. Then he tests the water with slow thrusts. Ones that speed up rather fast once he realizes how deep he can go in this position. The grip he has on your hips is bruising as he starts to slam his hips into yours.

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[ak319]

Your platonic yandere Arthur is my favorite! But idk the exact reader's age. Is it about 12/13? I imagine reader like early teenager. Sorry my English is bad🙏 And I wonder if reader can escape or leave Arthur some time?

💌Thank you so much for reading and the ask! I left the age option open for the reader to decide, but personally, I would say 15-19, while Arthur is 23-26. As for escaping, oooooo!, so, of course, the reader would be afraid to escape as she's pretty scared of Arthur and the fact that she's a bit naive regarding how the world outside practically works since she was restricted mostly from going out, but let's see if she decides upon it when she's a bit mature and with the help of a gang member does do it.

Warnings/ MDNI: not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions// I don't condone such behaviour

"(Y/N)? Why are you sitting here alone?" You turned to see Annabelle, who sat down on the same rock with a gentle smile.

"Just… like being alone, I guess."

"Yeah, I figured." Daytime was the only time you could at least sit here on this rock, surrounded by nature. Not too far from camp, close enough to hear if Arthur were to return, and yet, far enough to finally breathe.

"Something tells me you’re troubled."

"Pft. Really?"

"Of course. Your mind… it’s somewhere else half the time. Did Arthur say--or do--something again?" Her tone shifted, a flicker of protectiveness flashing in her eyes.

"No, just..." You shook your head, unwilling to revisit last night’s argument. He still thought you were clinging to memories of the past. In his drunken irritation, he’d accused you of being ‘sulky,’ and you still didn’t know what to do with that. Talking back was a problem, and being quiet was, too.

"I see."

"I just want to… escape sometimes. I really do." You played with the hem of your clothes, eyes fixed on the blades of grass beneath your feet.

"What if I say… that can happen?"

Your eyes widened in shock. “W-what? Anna, are yo- are you serious?"

“Yes, I’m serious. I can help you get out of here-”

You shook your head violently, casting a quick glance around. “Shh!! What if somebody hears? Where would I even go? I can’t go to Mrs. Anne's, nor Isla's. I couldn’t risk them being harmed if he found out.” Your voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “You don’t know what he’s capable of, Annabelle… he wouldn’t spare them.” Your voice faltered, memories of his threats fresh in your mind. You could still feel that darkness in his eyes every time he talked about keeping you “safe” and “in line.” It haunted you even now.

"Oh, I know plenty of what men like him do. I’ve been in this life longer than you, darling. How do you think I met Dutch?" Annabelle’s eyes glinted, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "And since I know ‘em, I know how to deal with ‘em. I’ve got people in places who’ll help. I’ve already got a plan.”

Your eyes widened. "What are you-- and you think he won’t find me?!"

“Girl, girl, girl.” She shook her head, adjusting her hat with an air of calm authority. “Arthur may be the strongest in this camp, but he still works under Dutch, and Dutch…” Her smile grew even bolder. “Well, Dutch works under me. Got it?”

You let out a dry chuckle despite yourself. Dutch’s devotion to Annabelle was no secret, he wouldn’t let Arthur run wild through towns looking for you, not with bigger concerns on his mind. Her confidence in holding some power over both men was oddly reassuring, even in your tangle of fears.

“What even is your plan?” you finally asked, voice hushed.

Annabelle’s smirk deepened, her gaze steady. "First, I need to know your commitment. Are you one hundred percent in… or just curious?”

“Depends… on your plan.”

She sighed, giving you a knowing look. “Well, I hope it’s good enough to convince you."

⋆⋆⋆

"Annabelle, what the fuck were you thinking? Do you even know what the fuck you've done!?” Dutch struggled to keep his voice low, fury simmering beneath the surface. His peaceful moment, with the gramophone softly playing and a book in his hand, had been shattered when Annabelle returned alone. Hours earlier, she'd taken you to town, claiming you two were off to get supplies. Now, Dutch was left grappling with the fact that you weren’t coming back.

Annabelle didn’t flinch, her own voice firm, but lower. “I did what was necessary. She clearly wasn’t happy here. And she… she reminded me of Bessie, Dutch. You know damn well how Arthur is with her, how he-”

“I KNOW,” he snapped, taking advantage of her hesitation. “But that’s the damn reason I’m mad, Annabelle. You went behind my back, didn’t consult me, didn’t consult Hosea! She’s his sister, his only family! What Arthur does with her is his business, their business. And you just… dropped her with a bunch of strangers?”

“They’re not strangers,” Annabelle shot back, eyes blazing. “They’re my friends. She’ll be safe with them, safe in a way she wasn’t here. They’ll help her find a job, a new life.”

“Safe?” Dutch’s voice wavered between anger and disbelief. “Annabelle, don’t you get it? Arthur’s not going to care if they’re your friends or the damn President. He’ll tear through whoever he has to just to get her back, no matter what you or I have to say about it. I already got so much to do and-- now I gotta do this? Play such games with my men?”

Annabelle’s face hardened. “Don’t you dare say it’s not my business, Dutch. The young ones here? They’re like our children. She’s my child too, and I’ll protect her how I see fit.”

"Arthur would be-” Dutch paused, inhaling deeply to steady himself. “What about him, huh?! What the hell are we gonna tell him then!?”

“That’s for you to handle,” Annabelle replied, her voice unwavering. “He’ll listen to you, Dutch, as long as you keep him here tonight, keep him occupied. That’ll give her more time. Maybe even let them get farther away.”

Dutch shook his head, staring at her in a mix of disbelief and desperation. “Love, you’ve clearly lost your wits.”

She leaned in, her gaze resolute. “Dutch, will you do it or not?”

Running a hand through his hair, he huffed in exasperation, glancing around as though the answer might be written in the shadows of the tent. “Do I even have a damn choice? Fine. Go and get Hosea.”

⋆⋆⋆

Meanwhile, Arthur strolled back into camp, humming to himself as he exchanged nods with the other members. Some gave him knowing looks, brief nods that lingered a second too long, and others kept their heads down, avoiding his gaze. Arthur walked to his cot to relax before grabbing a bowl of stew, handed to him by Annabelle.

After eating it , he felt a lot lighter and fell dead asleep without realizing.

When he woke up confused and groggy, as always, coffee was the first thing he needed after splashing himself with water. Arthur took a long sip of his coffee, scanning the camp, eyes squinting in the early sunlight as he moved toward your tent. His mind wandered briefly to the odd stillness he’d felt last night, everyone a bit too quiet, too careful around him. And where were you, anyway? By now, you’d be at your usual post, tackling chores.

His steps quickened, a flicker of annoyance stirring as he neared the tent flap, only to be interrupted by Dutch’s bark from across camp.

"Arthur, Strauss has a job for you,” Dutch called, his tone carrying that same uneasiness Arthur had noticed earlier.

Arthur bit back his irritation, keeping his voice as steady as he could muster. “Yeah, yeah... I’ll be with you in a minute, Dutch.” He gave the tent one last glance, a strange feeling creeping over him, almost instinctual, a prickle in the back of his mind that something was off.

As he turned back, he saw Hosea watching him closely, almost too closely, and Annabelle by Dutch’s side, arms folded and gaze darting away as soon as Arthur looked at her.

No, he had to check first. So he did. And when he realized the truth, fury ignited within him.

Arthur stormed over to Annabelle, the one you’d grown closest to, and demanded, “Where is she?”

"Gone."

He restrained himself, fighting the urge to shout at Dutch’s girl. “What… what do you mean, ‘gone’?” His voice came out in a harsh growl, causing Hosea to step in.

“Look, Arthur,” Hosea began, taking a slow breath as he spoke, “we decided it was best for her to have a fresh start, somewhere away from this life… a chance to live freely.” Dutch watched with a tense frown, allowing Hosea to carry the weight of the explanation. He knew this was exactly how this shit was going to go down.

Arthur’s voice exploded, raw and furious. “What the hell does that mean?! I’m asking where is my sister?! I trusted you, people!”

Dutch snapped to attention, immediately trying to calm him down. “Arthur, easy now. Listen to me. You know we would never betray you like that, I would never do that.”

“Then tell me, Dutch! Where. Is. She?!”

Annabelle, visibly shaken, grabbed the back of Dutch’s waistcoat, a silent plea to keep quiet. "Wherever she is , she is happy and Arthur you better not-"

But Dutch ignored her grip.

“Armadillo,” Dutch muttered. At that point, Annabelle felt the bitter sting of dismissal, her plan, her carefully thought-out intentions, cast aside like they held less weight than a feather in Dutch’s eyes. His men, his loyal damn men, seemed to be all that mattered to him, their allegiance prized above all else

“Dutch, no!” Annabelle protested, attempting to cover the slip, but Dutch-led her back into their shared tent, her shouts echoing inside.

Hosea turned to Arthur, trying one last time to mediate. “Arthur--Dutch might’ve misspoken. She might not even be there. This is only a lead-”

“Oh, save it,” Arthur snarled, brushing past him. He was done listening. Hosea opened his mouth, but Arthur didn’t give him the chance. Without another word, he turned, marching toward his tent to grab his rifle and saddlebag.

You’d made a big mistake, one he wasn’t about to let go unanswered.

⋆⋆⋆

Arthur’s relentless search led him to a dusty ranch far off from the nearest town, nestled among the dry plains. Days of frustration and near-misses had only fueled his anger, and now, as he spotted you working alongside the other ranch hands and the way you ran away inside once you saw him , a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. Without hesitation, he strode up to the main house, his gaze fixed on the ranch owner who had the audacity to hide you here.

When he demanded your return, the ranch owner stepped forward defiantly, shaking his head. “She’s not goin’ anywhere, she works here, on my ranch. You cannot just storm here and take her away!.”

Arthur’s hand was already hovering over his gun as his voice lowered to a deadly growl. “You’ve got about five seconds to change your tune. She’s comin’ with me, one way or another.”

The tension shattered in a heartbeat, and the next sound was, deafening gunshots making you whimper in the closet you were hiding inside. The owner and one of the ranch hands crumpled to the ground, blood seeping into the dust. Gasps and horrified murmurs spread through the remaining men as they retreated.

You were foolish to even hide, what were you expecting? That he would just leave not having luck finding you? He would search every corner if he has to. This wasn't the same as hide and seek, your favourite game to play with him when both of you were kids.

There he stood, his gun now aimed squarely at your forehead making the words of apology, of an excuse, of ANYTHING, stuck at your throat, his eyes as fierce as they’d ever been.

“Get up,” he ordered, voice as cold as steel. You hesitated, glancing at the dead men on the ground, the other workers staring in stunned silence and terror.

Arthur advanced, grabbed your chin and slammed your body against the closet's wall, making you cry at the impact, mostly out of fear instead of the pain. “I didn’t spend all this fucking time trackin’ you down to be left standin’ here. Now, move your fucking legs, I bet you moved them a lot when running away.”

Ignoring your protests, he dragged you across the ranch yard, his grip ironclad and unyielding. His other hand held the gun, to shoot anyone who came in his way.

Arthur’s jaw was clenched tight as he hoisted you over the saddle, securing you with swift, practiced motions as you struggled against the ropes. His gaze was cold, burning with fury and betrayal, every word laced with resentment as he leaned close.

“Ran away for this!?” he spat, voice dripping with disdain. “All I did for you, and you thought this was worth it? Some backwater ranch?”

He adjusted the ropes binding your wrists and ankles as you squirmed and cried, making sure they’d hold, not a hint of gentleness in his touch. He climbed into the saddle, barely sparing you another glance before he nudged the horse forward, leaving the ranch in a cloud of dust.

“You’ll be like this until I decide you’ve learned your lesson,” he said over his shoulder, his tone unyielding. “Get comfortable.”

Every second you’d managed to carve out on that ranch felt like a taste of freedom, something that had slipped through your fingers in seconds. Now, bound and helpless, the realization weighed heavy in your chest. You’d failed, somehow, despite all your attempts to escape, and the dread settled in as you faced the inevitable return to camp. The punishment was far from over.

(AN: Hope you liked it! These days, I have an Arthur fever and absolutely enjoyed reading your guys' responses/asks! More asks to come, God willing!‎ Peace♡‧₊˚)

[valorant-drabbles]

The iso x reader is really good! Alas, a part 3 would be great where they confess or reader's feelings get outed by either yoru or phoenix and gets teased about when reader will tell Iso but he already knows and reciprocates and just wants to hear it directly from them

The long awaited Part 3 of the Iso Saga!

Consider this my belated Christmas Present to all you Iso-Lovers!

~

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Mild Swearing

Gender-Neutral Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Cold Shoulder

Reader x Iso

It had been a fair few months since Iso had officially joined the Protocol, and the two of you were nearly inseparable. Whenever being sent on a mission, if there was a free spot on a team, you'd always try to find excuses to bring the each other along if one was going without the other. To the point that Brimstone had to pull you each aside and gently scold you. You simply can't be on every mission together. What matters is the skillset that is put into each team, not the person specifically.

It was a tad embarrassing being called out by Brimstone like that, and overtime, it was made clear that he wasn't the only one aware of how close you two were. How you and Iso were rarely seen without the other by their side, never too far if they weren't in view. It was almost instinctual, to be nearby.

Far too soon, a few of the other agents started picking up on certain hints that went over even your head, though you saw yourself as rather... aware of how others felt about you, especially after spending however long by their side. For instance, you knew Yoru often had an ego to show off, and acted like he didn't give a shit about anybody; but he would have your back if you were in danger, without a doubt. He'd warp to your side without a second thought. No matter how many times he'd deny it, he'd claim it was a coincidence.

So you were confident that if somebody's feelings towards you changed, you'd catch it. Or, if your own feelings had changed from platonic to... something more.

Boy, were you ever wrong.

------------------

Sage had stopped by your room to visit, bringing some freshly brewed herbal tea alongside a small plate of biscuits. She'd made a habit of making sure every agent was alright mentally, providing a safe space to vent or talk about feelings without judgement. She felt quite responsible for both the physical state of everyone, as well as their mental state. To put it simply, she was acting as the Protocol's therapist. And she was damn good at it.

Opening your door, you stepped aside to allow Sage entrance to your room. She'd already alerted you of your monthly checkup that day, so you'd made sure to tidy your bedroom as best as possible. She had always given off motherly vibes, so the last thing you wanted was for her to see a messy room on one of the few times she visits.

Sitting down on the floor, Sage sets up her favourite tea set on the short table by your bed, and begins to pour two cups of herbal tea. The tea set was painted with vines and flowers, giving off some Skye vibes. Perhaps it was a gift from her?

You sit yourself across from Sage, sitting on your legs comfortably as you reach for one of the cups, perhaps adding a little sugar to the warm liquid before settling into a more... relaxed mindset.

"So." Sage had started, hands wrapped delicately around her own teacup. "I see you and Iso have been progressing very well over the last few months, mm?"

You gave a simple nod. "In combat, we triumph over our opponents with ease. We have a good system going."

"That's wonderful to hear!... although not quite what I meant." She chuckled softly to herself, a warm smile on her face contradicting the confused look you'd given her.

"You've been getting to know Iso on a more personal level, more so than anybody. Which is a little strange, admittedly. Ever since you joined the Protocol, you usually kept to yourself and didn't make many connections with other agents. So I'm very relieved to know you've found somebody in which you can rely on-"

"Hold on." You pipe up to interrupt, eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. "What are you talking about? Yeah, I spend some time with Iso, but I wouldn't say we're on a personal level. That makes it sound like we're friends." Or more, your thoughts added, but you are swift to dismiss the thought as quickly as it arrived.

Sage took a slow sip of her drink as she let the following silence linger amongst the room, deciding to let it sink in naturally.

Her silence made something click in your head.

"We're friends."

"Mhm." Sage confirmed. "A bit more than that, perhaps. Some of us can't help but notice how rosy your cheeks get when Iso stands a little too close to you. How you two are rarely ever seen apart. And how, aside from me, He is the only one you allow in your room; your safe haven."

Your gaze slowly drops to look at the tea in your cup, seeing your reflection in the mildly rippling liquid, caused by the mild shake of your hands. You'd never really thought you had social habits, and yet... apparently they were blaringly obvious. Giving away hints to something you didn't understand yourself. "What... what does this mean?" You ask slowly, with eyes timidly flicking back up to meet Sage's calming, blue gaze. What she said next hit you like a wall of bricks.

"I believe you are in love, Y/N."

------------------

Love. Sage told you that you may be in love. It made you shudder. Far too soft of a word. How were you supposed to keep up your reputation amongst your team members? They might all see you as some... lovesick fool! You hated the thought of it. What were you meant to do now...? Well, Sage had advised you to take some time to think about what she'd said, and to get in touch with your feelings. Figure out how you really feel for Iso, and if it dips into being 'love' or not.

After all, Sage didn't know everything. She simply had her theories. Though she did coach you through some ways to self-reflect. Though it did feel somewhat pointless, you indulged her idea, and spent the next few days carefully doing some serious reflection on your feelings and interactions with Iso as of late. And the more you thought on Sage's words, the more that everything kind of... made sense.

You undeniably had feelings for Iso. The two of you working so harmoniously together, and how close you were outside of missions... the way you felt an odd, fluttering feelings in your stomach. The way your cheeks heat up when he casually rests his elbow on your shoulder... these previously unexplainable feelings, suddenly making sense. Clicking together like puzzle pieces.

Step one was complete, you supposed. You were aware of your feelings... now what? What were you meant to do with these feelings now? Surely not... expressing them to Iso?

The mere thought shot a bone-cold chill down your spine. No way were you ready to do anything of the sort.

"Just... act like normal." You coached yourself in the hallway, rubbing your face in an attempt to pull yourself together. "You like Iso, so what? That won't change anything- it shouldn't. I'm sure if you just... keep acting like normal, these ridiculous feelings will eventually go away..."

"Oh, that is rich."

The sudden voice nearly caused you to draw your pistol, if it weren't for your immediate reflex to look before shooting. What a relief, you nearly put a bullet into... the wall?

The next second, you see Yoru casually step out of his portal, removing his oni-styled mask with a faint smirk on his face.

"Yoru, what have I said about spying on me?" You scolded him with a narrowing glare, subconsciously gripping the front of your shirt. The bastard had made it a personal challenge to try and scare you when you were on your own- many times having been stopped by Iso a lot of the time. Iso's reflexes were often very helpful in catching Yoru before he had the chance to startle you. Besides, he seldom actually scared you.

"I wasn't spying about you. I was just trying to get to my room without bumping into anybody, and what happens? I find out some very interesting information..." A wide smirk grew across his face, as the realization quickly dawned on you.

"Listen, you didn't hear anything, got it?" Your voice pitched higher in a mild form of panic, which simply made Yoru's grin grow wider. "Damn. You're down bad, eh?"

Gritting your teeth, you storm closer to the man, preparing to grab him, and give him a thorough threatening- only for Yoru to warp out of your vicinity, a fair few feet away; arms crossed in a taunting way. "Phoenix is gonna get a kick 'outta this. Iso as well, I bet..." He cackled softly to himself, as he casually took a step backwards and fell into another portal, vanishing completely from the hallway.

Frozen in place, your mind had to slowly catch up to the moment of what had just happened. Yoru surely wouldn't spill such a serious secret just for the hell of it... right? Right?

You couldn't trust Yoru to keep his mouth shut. He was going to tell somebody- possibly even Iso if he felt like that much of an asshole. So, with quick steps, you ran towards the commons room, desperately in search of the masked bastard who was about to expose your most precious secret.

After searching what felt like half the headquarters building, you finally managed to find him. He was leaning against the kitchen counter casually, talking to the two people he'd threatened to tell. Phoenix; who wouldn't keep his mouth shut to keep a secret to save his life... and Iso.

By chance, Yoru happened to glance in your direction, keeping his usual smirk on his face as he kept the two men's attention on himself.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I wouldn't have figured if I hadn't been there. Y/N has always been so cold..." Yoru continued to speak as if you weren't there, only making your blood boil faster than before.

"''Ey, I wouldn't say that. They just... like to keep to themselves! Like Omen!... Probably!" Phoenix chimed in to defend you, which would've made you feel a bit better if you weren't on the verge of throwing a chair at Yoru.

"Still, you really heard them say that?" The British man raised a suspicious eyebrow towards Yoru, who simply nodded. "Why would I lie about something like this? It's hilarious."

Finally, Iso seemed to have enough. He made a point to slam down his soda bottle, with his eyes firing daggers in Yoru's direction, causing the other to stiffen ever to slightly, shoulders squared subtly in a sense of defense.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't care for your pointless gossip? How old are you, twelve? You truly think I would take your word as fact; especially with such a delicate subject? You truly have no shame, do you?" His voice was as cold as his gaze was, slicing through the thick, tension-filled air that had consumed the room the second the line was crossed.

Yoru struggled to find any kind of defense or escape from the conversation, his gaze quickly moving from you, back to Iso. "H... hah, as if I give a shit what you think. Don't act like you're above all this. Aren't you curious over what Y/N really thinks about you? Behind that cold exterior they put up all the time?"

"They only put it up around people they can't trust, like you. Besides, even if I were to trust your word, I'd rather hear it from Y/N themself." Iso retorted, as he plucked up his soda bottle, making his way back to his room, by the look of it. You felt yourself relax. Thank god; he didn't believe Yoru... and with that scolding Yoru got, you doubted he'd be running his mouth and telling anyone else for awhile, if he knew what was good for him.

--------------------

The next few days came and went. And you were pacing your room, twirling a knife between your fingers as you tried your best to think of how you wanted to progress with the knowledge of your feelings being... somewhat out there. Iso was aware now that it was a possibility, so... what were you meant to do now?

Sage had been there to hear you out when you needed to vent about Yoru's little 'stunt', and promised that he'd be held accountable for his gossiping behavior. All the agents were teammates, so any actions taken to potentially degrade everyone's teamwork would be dealt with and punished accordingly.

She had also assured you that there was absolutely no pressure to confess, even if Iso does know your feelings. Who knows, perhaps this was a one-time crush, and it would go away?

Well, it had already been about a week since you initially found out about these feelings, and they hadn't exactly gotten weaker. In fact, it seemed almost as if they grew stronger by each passing day you spent by Iso's side.

Sage had coached you further, to ask yourself some questions before you made any decisions that may affect you and Iso both. Take a deep breath, collect your thoughts, and ask yourself; Do you truly like Iso romantically?

Looking back on all your adventures and quiet moments with one another... how could you possibly say you didn't? Iso was somebody you felt like you could be honest with. Any chaotic feelings you might have in a single moment can be seemingly vanquished by him simply... being there. Even if you two don't talk to each other, the amount of comfort his presence alone was able to give you was something you felt like you couldn't find anywhere else. And if that wasn't an important staple in a romantic relationship... well, then maybe you were as much of a loner than Yoru had suggested.

But none of that mattered now. You felt oddly confident in your feelings, and now, knowing they were real by your own decision... it felt like you could confess to Iso. It was a bizarre experience; you'd been terrified of the idea of love and romance up until a few days ago. And now... you were actually contemplating a committed relationship with Iso? The thought still made your cheeks warm up with blush. The idea was... nice; welcomed, even.

Now it was just a matter of... figuring out how to actually confess.

--------------------

The day of confessing came a lot faster than you'd expected.

You were often the type to plan things out ahead of time. Pick a day to confess, maybe write a few scripts for yourself so you had options of what to say when the time came... and inevitably hope it would go well. And yet... though you thought you were accounting for every possibility;

When the day came, it was... unexpected, to say the least.

You and Iso were in your room, quietly doing your own things, as the two of you usually do. And yet... today it felt different. It felt like an awkward silence that wouldn't end, no matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation. The awkward air was indestructible, it felt like.

How were you meant to start an important talk when things are like this?

"So... I heard that Yoru got in trouble with Sage the other day." Iso suddenly spoke up, which very nearly startled you off the bed; but in a firm attempt to act like everything was normal, you stayed in place. You inhaled quietly. You got this.

"Yeah..." You started awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck, struggling to do so much as making eye contact with the other. "I... I thought I heard some arguing in the kitchen awhile back. Guess she dealt with whoever started it." Deciding to play the oblivious card, apparently. Though... did this count as lying? You weren't sure. You just hoped it wouldn't backfire on you in the long run.

"She certainly did deal with the perpetrator." He'd nodded slowly in response, his gaze moving towards you without your knowledge. "... you know, Yoru is pretty terrible at hiding when he's doing something mischievous at the cost of others. That being said; I saw you eavesdropping on us the other day." Iso couldn't hide the slight smile that grew on his face when your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "... I mean, he kept looking in your direction and everything. It was clear someone was there."

You just wanted the ground below you to open up and swallow you whole. So lying was pointless, huh. And Iso knew you were acting off for a reason now. Shit.

"Well... whatever. It makes this whole thing easier then, I guess." You mutter dismissively, keeping your gaze away from Iso's at any cost. Though you couldn't help but be mildly curious to what Iso was looking like in that particular moment. Was he as flustered as you felt? By the knowing tone in his voice, you assumed not.

"Not quite. You know I don't listen to petty gossip." Iso responded rather dryly, raising an eyebrow at you. "And if you were there to hear what he said, then surely you know what my question is going to be."

You just wanted to flee, or hide under your bed. God, this felt humiliating... though maybe it was just because you weren't used to being so emotionally vulnerable. Every word he spoke just felt extra dangerous.

“I hardly heard the whole conversation. I kind of just… turned the corner and saw you three. Besides, you obviously know what Yoru said. Do you really need me to say anything?” You asked hesitantly, your own logic seeming to make less sense by the second; and making you dug yourself deeper into a hole.

You feel Iso place his hand gently on top of your’s. The sudden contact was finally enough to make you turn to look at him, your cheeks not any less red than they already had been. Iso gave a small, reassuring smile to you.

“Yes. Because if it’s true, I want to hear it from you, Y/N. But… only if you want to say it.”

His voice was so… comforting. Holding no judgement nor expectation. He wasn’t going to make you confess that very moment if you weren’t ready; but it was clear he knew your feelings regardless. So… what were you meant to do now? If you put it off for another day, who knows how long it’d take you to get around to confessing.

Your nervous gaze moved to look at your hands, feeling your heart rate pick up by the second. This… this was it. Now or never, you decided. Iso deserved a proper answer.

“I… I have… feelings for you. Sage believes they are… romantic feelings. And I think I agree.” You speak softly, so quietly that if the room hadn’t already been silent, he may not have heard you. You swallow the nervous lump you felt in your throat. “I… do really like you, Iso. And… I’m sorry you had to find out from Yoru first of all people…”

Before you could even think about rambling further with some inane apologies, Iso’s hand had moved to rest on your cheek before you’d realized. It all happened so fast, and yet… ever so slowly, at the same time…

Iso had slowly brought your face closer to his, pausing when you two were mere inches away from each other. He didn’t move further, wanting you to initiate further if this was something you wanted. He truly wasn’t the type to force anything onto anyone…

It admittedly took you a few seconds to realize what he was waiting for… a… a kiss? The thought seemed overwhelming at first- you’d just confessed, and now he was offering to kiss you? Was that his way of saying he felt the same?

Your heart had never beat as fast as it did in that moment. Sure, you were new to the whole… romantic-feelings thing… and by all accounts, you’d probably reject the offer in any other situation… and yet…

In those few lingering moments, with his lips so close to your’s… you couldn’t turn away. Taking all the courage you had within you, you leant forward and gently pressed your lips to Iso’s; though it was a little awkward at first, with your lack of experience.

The kiss merely lasted a few seconds before you’d pulled back, face feeling as red as a cherry. You found it hard to make direct eye contact with Iso for a few moments, before you heard him chuckle slightly.

“For someone who used to be so intimidating… you sure are adorable whenever you’re embarrassed.” He’d hummed innocently. You shot a glare in his direction and punched his arm relatively hard, earning a more genuine laugh from the man.

“I’m sorry- it’s true!” Iso snickered softly as he scooted a bit closer to you, keeping your hands intertwined ever so gently. You’d barely noticed you two had been holding hands for a short while already. “So… was my answer sufficient enough for you, Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow curiously to you, giving you a moment to pause and think.

“Mm… No. I don’t think your answer was clear enough.” You responded, rather deadpan. This gave Iso a genuine feeling of confusion, as you turned towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, your face still rather red.

“Perhaps you should give me your answer again… and again.”

The two of you spent the remainder of the evening in each other’s company.

Sage may have had to heal a bruised lip or two the following morning.

[universe-friday]

EXCERPT #51:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I am no longer staring at that taunting flashing light anymore, old sport. I’m back at my old place. I knew what I needed to know now, almost.

Solus didn’t create the sinkholes… Let me explain.

As I stared back into those now familiar green and hazel eyes, I found myself having to do something I hadn’t done in a while in the City… Look tough.

It was a little pathetic, if I’m honest, old sport. I almost stuttered over my own name when introducing myself. Any confidence I managed to mutter up immediately vanishes as they reveal that they use an alias too… I never said Radio wasn’t my real name.

Before I could take in their comment, Solus asked me where I had heard about them. I hesitated for a second, deciding if it would be safe to discuss Thalia, but my curiosity was fueling me.

Fighting through my words, I asked how she knew them. Thalia. Solus, for the first time this whole conversation, averted my gaze. They almost looked nervous.

With great hesitation, Solus defeatedly reveals that Thalia and them were previously in a relationship.

I felt myself stiffen up as I didn’t know how to react. I chuckled nervously before quickly changing the subject. I could digest that fact later, I thought.

Instead, curiosity was exchanged for rage. I was angry for Thalia, I thought. Someone they had trusted intimately was doing these heinous acts in the City. Creating these sinkholes to destroy the innocent lives of those who live here.

I saw red. I shouted, accusing them of everything I knew about the sinkholes. The security camera footage. The symbol. The possible cult they had… Anything I theorised, I let them know I despised.

The first breath I take again is when Solus interrupts – they laugh. They laugh, and they laugh, and then tears are rolling down their face.

Still angry, I stared back in silence. I waited for the answer.

As they quiet, they admit to me that those are not their doing. Then they asked me if I had ever heard of the agency.

I once again freeze at the thought. I muttered a small, hesitant, ‘mhm’ in agreement.

Solus’ eyes immediately widen, as if they have realised something themselves. They match my volume suddenly, in worry, saying, ‘They got her, didn’t they?’

All I do is nod in response. They began to pace the room, muttering to themselves about warning Thalia, her not listening, knowing she wouldn’t listen… Suddenly, they pause and look straight back at me.

Solus began to tell me that is why they are hiding. The agency. That is why they hack into the cameras. All because of the agency. It is all to not be recruited… Again.

[...]

[i984]

Finally Hers

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Genre|: Fluff 💞

|Warnings|: Stalking, mentions of gore, Wednesday being mean, mouth-on-mouth kissing, ooc Wednesday Addams.

|Summary|: You're caught in the act (in a library no less), now what?

|Word count|: 1.2k words

|A/n|: This was kinda rushed but I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

Shit.

How could this happen?

The following two weeks since your last encounter with Wednesday Addams had been peaceful--or suspiciously uneventful--you thought to yourself. You had feared for your life, half-expecting for the raven-haired girl to confront you after the last time she caught you approaching her with a creepy stare in your eyes.

But nope, the weeks passed, and you continued with your unusual schedule, mostly consisting of you stalking the girl of your nightmares from afar. At least, that was the case until today--you've settled yourself in one of the hexagonal tables in the school's library with stacks of books around the table to hide your figure--when Wednesday took a seat across the table. Your table.

Wednesday always seats at the same table--the one in the dark corner of the room, every week at the same hour; a piece of information you've successfully gathered after extensive "research" on the girl. And you use this information to admire her every week at this very hour from a safe distance, only to find her seating at your table directly across from you today.

You had observed her movement when she entered the room--with a book in hand, her stride full of confidence, no trace of hesitation to be found.

...and then she walked straight in your direction, and you swear to god you've never ducked your head so fast in your entire life.

When you dared to peer through the gaps of your heavily stacked books, the girl in front of you already had her nose stuck in her book, her lips pursed in concentration. With Wednesday sitting closer than ever to you--suddenly blessed with the breathtaking sight of her figure--you can't help but notice her features; the ones you never get to see because you've always been watching her from afar.

Strays of light hit her face, sharpening her features in all the right places. Her eyes dart over the pages, and you can't help but admire the brown in them. Her lashes are full, eyebags adorning her face giving her a deliciously daunting look. Her lips are a dark color--a beguiling burgundy. She has freckles softly scattered across her nose and cheeks, and soft strains of her hair fall to the sides--framing her face perfectly. 

Your eyes trailed down to her sharp jaws, then to her slender arms, and to the fingers that are gripping the edges of her book firmly. Your heart skips a few beats at the sight--everything about her is so mesmerizing. And as you take a deep slow breath, you could smell a hint of sweet alyssum--the flower vaguely resembling the pattern on her coat.

As your line of sight trailed back up to her face and her eyes, you yelped back in your seat--her gaze piercing holes right into your own--your books falling off the table at the impact of your motion.

You quickly scrambled to your feet, ready to bolt at the entrance.

You've been caught, you thought to yourself.

And if you don't get out of the room right now, who knows what kind of torture Wednesday would inflict upon you? Though torment coming from her does seem like something you'd gladly take, for now, you are set on fleeing this place and never returning.

And as your legs move, ready to sprint, suddenly you feel a strong tug at the hem of your shirt--your body suddenly lurching her way, while Wednesday stepped back releasing her grip--and you find yourself stumbling forward, barely managing to catch yourself from face-planting to the ground.

"I know what you've been doing," Wednesday stated while stepping forward, "You've been following me. Why would you do that? Did somebody send you to spy on me? Monitor my schedules and activities?" 

Her voice was cold and harsh, and you feel yourself cowering before her, unable to answer her pointed questions. 

"You're quite good at your job, I'll give it to you. For a while now I've felt like someone was trailing me, watching my every move. And I couldn't figure out who until Christmas. But when I look at your face, I knew it was you."

You stepped back, and she took two steps forward, cornering you into one of the bookshelves. You look behind Wednesday and you see a couple of students have turned their heads at the commotion, and you can hear them murmuring.

"What was your intention, approaching me and my friends that day? Were you trying to hurt them?" At this, you blurted out a response from your short-circuiting brain.

"N-NO! Of course not! I would never do that to you- I mean to your friends and you. I was just..." you trailed off, your eyes not daring to meet her gaze.

"You were what? Answer me." Her stance seems to relax a bit, but her voice is still as stern as ever.

You stumbled on your words but quickly took a deep breath after seeing the look on her face.

"It's just that ...I have a crush on you," Wednesday pulls back a bit at your sudden confession, her brows raised in puzzle. 

Your heart drops at her reaction, but you willed yourself to continue. "And I know it doesn't excuse all the following and the stalking, and I know it's creepy, and now you probably hate me and feel disgusted, and I'm terribly sorry," you sobbed out, tears falling down your cheek.

"But I would never hurt you or any of your friends, I swear on my life," you continued. "The thing is, I would die for you Wednesday, kill for you if you ask me to. I will go to Tartarus and come back with Cronus' heart if you wish for it. You can rip my heart out and you'll find it beating for you," your breathing quickens as you speak, "All things impossible I can do for you, but I would never. Hurt. You."

Wednesday stared at you wide-eyed, her mouth gaping ever so slightly. Never in her life had she seen someone so blindly devoted to her, and the heartfelt speech you delivered has suddenly made you her one coveted dream. 

You watch as Wednesday straighten herself up, her feet taking a half-step closer to you. You can feel your heart pounding against your chest, your head spinning as breathing isn't your brain's priority. 

Her brows relaxed and her jaw opens as she speaks, 

"And if I carve your chest and break your ribs, pull your lungs out, and stick a straw in it, would you drink the red for me?" she muttered the last sentence underneath her breath, dark-brown eyes looking straight into your own--daring you to answer her question.

"Gladly, until the very last drop of it," you breathed out. 

And at that, Wednesday grabs the collar of your shirt, and you feel her soft lips press against yours. Your head bumps against the bookshelves behind you; her sweet-flowery smell invaded your scent--overwhelming you--and the surging tide of warmth washes over you, leaving you limp. 

And before you know it, you were kissing her back, and at that moment you realize;

You were finally hers.

[repubsagainsttrump]

Republican Voters Against Trump: Joanna's Testimony

“ Hi, I’m Joanna. I live in Florida. I am a former Trump voter, and in 2024 I’m voting for Kamala Harris. I voted for Trump in 2016, back in 2016, he seemed like the right choice. He brought new excitement and fresh energy to the Republican party that we hadn’t seen in a long time.

“There was just, there was so much stagnant everything in the world at the time, the economy was stagnant, the war was going on, it’s stagnant. Nothing was happening. And really Republicans weren’t really bringing a lot to the table other than just the threats to repeal Obamacare or you know, increase in national security here and there.

“But once he became president, that did not seem to be going so well. I mean, everything from the protests to outright riots stemming from Black Lives Matters. We had so much unrest in the country, it felt like the least safe time, that I’ve known this country, it seemed unrecognizable at times, like, are we on the verge of civil war? What is this? This was not the country that I thought we were going to have under him.

“It seemed to just take a left turn and just go horribly wrong. I was disappointed with a lot of things in his presidency, but you know, a lot of things were good too. But as time went on and he just seemed to be a horrible leader. I don’t think other countries were respecting us, respecting him. Certainly, our country was in a mess and his solution for a lot of things was basically temper tantrum.

“Being in the military, I had taken an oath to defend the Constitution. I did not take an oath to support the president or the party or anything else like that. And I thought, you know, at the end of the day, I’ve gotta do what’s right by the Constitution. In essence, to save it from somebody who keeps threatening to tear it up.

“He does not respect law and order. He does not respect the rules of this country, and I don’t think he answers to any higher power. I don’t think he believes in God. I don’t think he has any sense of a spiritual self at all. And I think he just finds himself just unchecked by anybody.

“Whereas, I believe Harris, the cabinet picks that they’ve had in the current administration have been fine. I don’t see huge issues with any of them. Again, I might disagree with a lot of them, but they don’t seem incompetent in any way. Um, they seem to be getting the job done, whatever the job happens to be.

“So I feel fairly confident that should she be reelected, the world’s not gonna fall apart. We’re going to be okay.”

[steviewashere]

Let Me Make You Soup, Let Me Show You That I Care

(also on ao3)

wc: 4,149, Steddie Tags: Post Vecna, Post Canon, Post Season 4, Sick Steve Harrington, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting (Though Not Extreme, For I am Emetophobic), Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve's Sucky ass Parents

(Also, I hope y'all don't mind me cross-posting some of my favorite one shots that I've put up on ao3. Figured I could push them to a bigger audience, especially those who don't use ao3).

--------

Steve gets sick often. Small colds, allergies, the dreaded flu. Maybe it doesn't help him that he's had so many concussions and injuries on top of that too. Left with debilitating migraines and aching sides and muscles that become overexerted too fast.

Safe to say, his immune system is now a pile of steaming dog shit.

He's become good at attempting to "take care" of himself. With his parents being absent nearly all the time, much of the recovery process and gentle care was left to Steve. His hands don't have the same soft and slim quality as his mother's did, though. Even if she doesn't make the effort to shove his hair from his sweaty forehead or massage vapor-rub onto his chest or squeeze his shoulders as he dry-heaves into the toilet. He can miss that.

It's also safe to say that Steve Harrington, best babysitter and lesbian protector, is absolutely terrible at asking for help. His idea is, Got myself into this mess, I can get myself out. His other idea is, I don't want to burden anybody; I've been that too many times.

He suspects that's why his parents aren't there now to tuck him into bed and check his temperature and read him a bedtime story. Even though, now, he's a nineteen year old "man." More like a bruised child trapped inside the buff body of an even more injured adult, left to his own devices and decisions.

Steve is miserable today. Woke up with a knocking headache, an itch at the bottom of his throat, tingly fingers, shivering limbs, and the need to massage his abdomen to elicit the vomit to come up sooner.

It's barely nine in the morning. Just cracked his eyes open. Which, are heavy with crust and too much sleep, yet not enough.

It's barely nine in the morning and all Steve wants to do is lay stiff on his mattress, a trusty tried and true trashcan on the floor, curtains closed, a heavy duvet draped over his legs, and the A/C set to sixty-eight degrees. That's what he does. Doesn't have the appetite for breakfast or water or Tylenol. He doesn't have the energy to lay on a towel on the bathroom floor, body curled around the base of the toilet bowl. And, he doesn't have the confidence to plead with somebody over the phone to "Take care of me, just this once and I'll repay you."

He's done that before to Tommy. The bastard never showed and Steve sobbed so hard at the thought of being left alone, that he hurled right onto the beige carpet of his bedroom. That's why the desk is stuffed into the corner. To cover what he couldn't even take care of.

Steve has decided to lay in bed today. Has already used the trashcan. Kicked off the duvet then whined then brought it back to his sweat drenched t-shirt hem, then said fuck this and ripped the shirt off his body.

The silk sheets against his rapidly heating body feels nice. Like laying on the kitchen floor, Steve surmises. And that makes him think of soup.

A hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. Something he's made himself countless times before. A recipe that his mom never perfected. It's just Campbell's, the instructions are on the label, yet it was never made correctly.

She'd do that. When her motherly instincts were at an all-time high. That had to be when he was probably five? Six? His mom would make a bowl of soup so warm and soothing that she would have to warn him about touching the ceramic. She would bring him a glass of orange juice and say, ever soft and comforting, "It'll help you. Mommy promises."

The juice would sting his throat and he would cough so hard she would start to worry about doing the Heimlich maneuver.

That's what his mother's "sick care" turned into. A glass of orange juice that only hurt, never helped, just made him think about swallowing glass.

Soup turned into a heat-until-lukewarm situation. Juice wasn't bought for him. His parents elected to buy "fancy juice" instead. Another descriptor for Mommy's self-healing alcohol problem, Steve began to substitute. He remembers the last time she ever made him anything or gave a shit about his weakened body.

Steve was eleven years old.

He eventually learned where to buy the Campbell's stuff. From Mevald's. Now he keeps a hefty supply in the back of his family's pantry. Ready for a day like this.

A day where at eleven, before noon, Steve has a sudden mouth watering appetite for measly chicken noodle soup.

He hefts his body into an upright position, feet planted onto the carpet, fingers white-knuckling the edge of the mattress, a quick glance thrown at the trashcan, and a heavy breath burrowed into the stale air. Right before he scoots to stand, he hears the telltale sound of Eddie knocking on his front door. A simple three pattern.

The rapping startles Steve slightly. He forgot that Eddie was supposed to come over. I'll have to send him away, he thinks solemnly.

"Coming!" Steve croaks to the bathroom floor. With whatever strength the knocking has given him, he tucks the trashcan under his right arm, creeps to the top of the stairs, and ever so carefully floats down them.

The can is set off to the side before he opens the door.

In the glow of the daylight, energized and cheery, is Eddie Munson. Wrapped in a leather jacket, hair tied up into a bun, jeans replaced with jorts, and a grin the size of the moon.

"Hey Stevie," he drawls as his lithe frame leans against the doorjamb.

"Hey man, listen..." Steve begins before being interrupted.

"Whoa, what's going on with you?" Eddie shoves into the house. His grin is set into a small frown and his eyes are glazed with concern instead of the excited energy equal to a golden retriever. "Did you get enough sleep last night? You could've called me if you had a nightmare."

That's something him and Eddie do. When one has a god awful nightmare about floating bodies and squelching flesh and sterile hospital walls, they call each other. Sometimes to just hear that the other is alive. Other times for a trip to one another's house. The phone calls could be Eddie recapping a campaign storyline or Steve bemoaning over a wretched, hag of an old woman that demanded a refund on an R rated movie her grandson finagled her into renting. Or just breathing. Steve's fond of the soft puffs of air that signal Eddie finally relaxed enough to go back to sleep.

"No, weirdly enough I slept way longer than I was supposed to. I'm just sick today. But, I'm fine. Or at least I will be, got a good grasp on this. Y'know, trashcan, soft bed, canned soup. Was actually coming down here to send you back home," Steve rushes out. He's out of breath and feels lightheaded. The headache has turned into a pulsating mess and his stomach churns violently. Before he can warn Eddie again to go out the front door and leave him be, Steve finds himself hunched over his trashcan at the bottom of the stairs, trembling with the force of his grip. One hand on the edge of said bin. The other, wrapping tendrils of hair around his fingers and pulling with enough force to surely rip out some of his luxurious hair. Which, really, is a sweaty disgusting mop today.

He feels the hand in his hair loosen. A smaller, slightly cold hand replacing it. But this time, the fingers work carefully to sweep back any loose strands. Another hand joins the mix. This one squeezes at his right shoulder.

Eddie is behind him, whispering and shushing, "You're alright. I got you, let it out." His cold skin feels amazing over Steve's damp forehead. And equally, his touches are soothing.

Steve coughs once, twice, spits the same amount, and then leans against Eddie with a heavy sigh. "Thanks," he mutters. He shutters at being oddly exposed. Now that he's realized his torso is bare and he probably looks as awful as he feels and now all of his guts are in a bin in front of him.

The bin gets shoved over to the left and Steve starts to get up from the hardwood floor. Eddie lifts him up and leans him against his side. "How about this? I'll make you something mild, get some water into you, and divvy up a couple Tylenol tablets. Your skin is hot and not in the sexy way," he chuckles.

They make their way to the living room. Steve is deposited onto the couch with a cushion shoved behind his back and the can placed appropriately at his feet, within arm's reach. Eddie adjusts his hair again, this time with the tie from his own hair, and leaves to the kitchen.

Steve is dazed. Hot all over. Itchy in some places. Runny nose, aching stomach, watering eyes, and throat so itchy he wants to dig his fingernails into the skin on his neck. This predicament almost makes him embarrassed, more ashamed than anything. He gets his ass handed to him annually and has to have people take care of him during the concussions, until he's given the okay to go home and grovel in silence. And he puts himself in situations he can't get himself out of. He's tired of it, he realizes. Feels the need to apologize to Eddie, make him cookies or something, promise to never make him do anything like this ever again.

When said man comes back into the room with three extra-strength Tylenol in his palm and a cold glass of tap water, Steve wants to cry. It's not until Eddie is setting everything down to pet at his hair and shush him again doe he notice, he is crying.

"Sorry," Steve's voice rasps. He takes a gasping breath before choking out another nasty, wet sob.

"Nothing to be sorry for. It's what your body has to do," Eddie coos.

"No, I'm sorry you have to take care of me," he breathes. That's tally number two for decisions Steve is making today. Some miserable, lonely, somewhat pathetic decisions.

Then, Eddie pulls back. His eyes are the size of saucers. And that small frown from earlier has turned into a deep-set, terribly worrying downturn. "You don't have to apologize for that. Not at all. You need help, I'm here for you. It's what we do, okay?" he murmurs. Steve cries some more at that. Choking on his tears, practically. Enough for Eddie to say, "Hey, breathe with me. I don't want you to make yourself sick again."

So they sit for a few minutes. Breathing. Steve keeps his eyes on Eddie's mouth, watching him count. And Eddie stares at his eyes. Trying to piece together all the little details about this version of Steve. The one not picking fights and towering over unlucky underclassmen and spitting venom instead of backing away when he's supposed to. This Steve that looks like a small, terrified, lonely little boy. Who feels the need to apologize for being a human being. Somebody that makes sure everybody is better off and happy and swooned over before taking an assessment of his own body, the injuries stitched into his side, and the possibility that someone also wants to make sure he's doing alright.

God, who is Steve Harrington, Eddie questions to himself.

Once the tears have subsided and breathing has been placed under control, Steve feels exhausted. Eddie seems to notice because he suggests, "Why don't you lay down for a while? Maybe snooze some while I make soup?"

Steve nods with slight hesitancy. "Can I—" he stutters, "Can I lay down in my room?" To Eddie, this is the quietest he's ever heard his friend. And that doesn't sit right with him. A man—bulky and toned, loud and sassy, bark with no bite—now sitting with his shoulders slumped, skin blotched in various shades of pink and red, breathing ragged, and looking at Eddie with terribly timid eyes. He's just a little boy, some part of Eddie whispers.

"Yeah man. 'Course you can. How 'bout you get yourself to bed, I'll follow behind with your can, give you your medicine, and leave the door open just in case you need something?" The nod Eddie gets back is so energetic, it's as if Steve wasn't sick to begin with. That part of him that's been whispering and wondering is now aching. All he wanted was to be looked after.

Where are your parents, Eddie wants to ask aloud. Who was here to take care of you, Eddie wants to dig.

In mere moments, Steve is tucked back into bed. The curtains are drawn to be almost completely closed. His door is left unlocked and gaping. There are soft snuffles drifting through the house. And Eddie finds himself in front of the Harrington's fancy electric stove.

Before he came back downstairs to cook, Steve whispered something about there being Campbell's in the pantry. "If you want to heat it up on the stove, that's what my mama did when I was really little. It's what I do now."

Eddie glances at the cans and makes a decision for Steve, He deserves better than a piss poor attempt. Homemade it is.

When he was little, Wayne used to make soup on sick days. Still does. During the recovery time when Eddie's sides were still sore with stitches and itchy with stretch, Wayne would bring him a bowl of soup and a tall glass of orange juice on a little tray. He makes a mean bowl of tomato. "Something my mamaw taught me and now I can show you," he had told Eddie.

As much of a bare wasteland as Steve's kitchen is—What does he eat, Eddie wonders—he manages to find all the ingredients necessary. After a couple cupboards are ripped open and some miscellaneous drawers sifted through, he finds himself stirring a simmering metal pot of something he hopes Steve can keep down.

Eddie wants to chastise Steve for even thinking about being sick alone. What a misery sentence. Was probably going to call Robin and say something about, "You don't need to worry. It's not bad. I'll just be out of work for a couple days." Then he would've trekked back upstairs, slow like molasses, and locked the door behind him. Would've laid in bed shivering and crying and barfing. Probably would have passed out by the time he was finally hungry.

Steve even apologized earlier for being taken care of. As if he was a burden. Made himself smaller and tighter and quieter, that's for sure. So Eddie won't do any form of chastising. That'd only make him disappear on himself more.

As the soup is being dished up with plain toast and a cup is being filled with pulpy orange juice, Eddie hears Steve startle awake upstairs. Goes from snoring almost as loud as Wayne in the winter to dry heaving, hard.

Eddie sets the made tray down onto the counter. He makes his way back to the front door and chucks his shoes to the side and hangs up his jacket. Then, tumbles upstairs just as Steve is breathing raspy again.

One. Two. Three knocks on the open bedroom door. And in the blink of an eye, Eddie is over at Steve's side. He's crying again. Nothing like the nauseous sobs from earlier, but sniffles and silent watery blinks.

Steve's hair is pushed back again. "What's goin' on Stevie? What happened?"

"N-nothing," he spits frantically into the air. Like a kid trying to hide a lollipop behind their back. A teenager caught with a lit cigarette in hand. The family dog with a sneaker in it's mouth being told to drop it.

"Okay. Okay, I won't push. But I brought you some soup and orange juice. It's not the best because there's so much pulp in it, but it'll do for now. Oh, and—" Eddie sings. He digs around in his jorts pockets for a small container. As he brandishes it just in Steve's line of sight, he says, "Found some vapor-rub in the medicine cabinet downstairs. Now it is a few months out of date, but that just means more will need to be appl—honey, what's goin' on?" he questions softly.

Steve's sniffles have turned into thin-lipped, eyes glazed and bloodshot, muffled sobs. He has a streak of snot dripping down on his upper lip and his chest keeps stuttering. Eventually, he chokes out, "You brought the soup to me."

And what a statement.

The sentence slaps Eddie across the face, causing his head to rear back. It confuses him, that's what it does. Obviously I brought him soup, what the fuck, he asks himself incredulously.

"Wha—of course. That's what you do when somebody is sick. You help 'em out, bring soup or crackers or whatever and make sure they're better," Eddie supplies as he wipes away the sweat and snot with his banana. There's a brief moment where the only sound is Steve crying. The room is dim and he seems more comfortable than when the door was initially answered.

Eddie thinks back to the apologizing. The making himself smaller and quieter. His hesitancy about wanting to sleep in his own bed. How his mom used to make soup. And the statement, "Got a good grasp on this." Pieces start to click, sirens sound off, door number three has opened and behind it is a shiny new car.

A horrifying realization. The easy solution to Eddie's childlike curiosity over where Steve's parents are. And that in itself makes him want to hurl into the trashcan or pull full force at his hair or sob.

His parents aren't here and haven't been in a long while, Eddie accuses.

"Oh, Stevie." He pets again at his drenched hair. "I'm not going anywhere, alright? You don't have to worry about that with me. Let me do what I need to do, but I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Okay," Steve whispers.

Within just a couple minutes, Eddie has Steve propped back up on a mountain of pillows. Some from the hall closet, the stale bedroom of his parents, and the ones from his own bed. He's changed the bag in the can with a call of, "It's alright, no big deal," after Steve's cry that Eddie didn't need to do that. A bedside lamp has been turned on. An ice cold wet rag has been situated over his neck. There's a thick layer of vapor-rub in his chest hair.

Then came the aforementioned lunch. It smells divine. As if God himself started a soup kitchen in the Harrington's desolate house. What's even better is that it's definitely not chicken noodle.

"I don't remember there being any cans of tomato in the pantry," Steve notes.

"Oh, well. I thought you deserved better than that crap. Made something Wayne usually serves up. Family recipe," he sings again.

"Oh," Steve breathes. His eyes feel wet again, but he fights every part of him that says to cry. He's done enough of that. "Y'know, you didn't have to," he says quietly.

Eddie makes the wounded sound of a shot dog. He finishes setting up the tray on the stiff mattress. Then, situates himself to sit on Steve's left, rubbing down his bare back. "I wanted to. That's all that matters. Now eat up before it gets cold."

And he does just that. The bowl is hot to the touch. Its contents still fresh from being boiled. Even the gulps of orange juice don't burn as bad as when he was little. Steve feels five years old again. He's anticipating the late afternoon lunch from his mom where she'll show him vapor-rub and a spoonful of Pepto-Bismol. In the living room, she's going to lay down, with him on top, and they'll watch reruns of his favorite cartoons. The curtains are closed and she hums lullabies as he drifts off to sleep.

Eddie rubs his back and hums songs and kisses his forehead gently. Which, Steve hasn't been given that amount of affection in a long while. And he honestly doesn't mind.

There's something that's been sitting between the two of them, a thing the size of a ten pound medicine ball. A word shaped like love and comfort. The space where Eddie shares stories about Uncle Wayne and his hibernation snoring when the temperatures drop and how he acquired every single mug on their wall. And in response, Steve listens and drips a couple droplets of how his mom would read Goodnight Moon and kiss him on his cheek or on summer days where they'd splash each other in the shallow depth of the pool. Before it became a graveyard. Or the loosely sketched outline of a mom and her child. His dad wasn't as close, but he'd play catch when Steve was still learning about baseball or share facts about his car that intrigued little eight year old Steve in a way no sport has ever done before. How he acquired the bowling pin from the one time his parents took him out for his birthday. The car painting being something his dad did in his spare time, not bought from some general store in the next town over.

Even in his sick state, Steve thinks about pecking Eddie on the lips. Wonders how smooth they are. If he uses chapstick. What flavor it could be. His mind supplies days in the future where they make soup for each other and shout about how excellent Hellfire was or Lucas' basketball game had been. Mornings shaped by soft snores and gentle touches and steaming cups of coffee. Nights wrapped around each other, cooing sweet nothings when the nightmares become bloody again, and sex that's slow and drawn out. Or the quiet moments where Steve needs a shoulder to cry on. And open arms so that Eddie is encased in comfort, even after everything.

At his final spoonful and dip of toasted crust, Steve whispers, "I love you." As treacherous as his mouth has been in the past, this final decision isn't as daunting as the rest from earlier today. Some part of Steve knew that it would come to a head and the words would spill from his lips like the soup on his chin.

Eddie hums beside him. He kisses Steve one. Two. Three times on the forehead. Then he sets the tray aside with all the empty dishes and the vapor-rub with three finger divots. He strips down to his boxers and a simple t-shirt. And he tucks Steve in as he scoots on top of the duvet to hold him.

"I love you, too," he responds. "And I'll be here when you get up. So get some rest and the next time you're awake, I'll go get some new orange juice and more ingredients for tomato soup and a container of unexpired Vick's."

Steve drifts off to sleep with his body curled around Eddie's side.

In the morning, the curtains are open and soft sunlight streaks in the bedroom. Eddie has left the house to do a quick grocery run, leaving behind a note of "Just lay back and relax. I brought the phone upstairs if you want to keep yourself entertained."

He calls Robin to muse aloud how excellent Eddie is. Their dance around each other now concluded over a simple bowl of soup. How nice it is to finally get the care he wish he had when his mom started to go away. Him kissing a guy before she could kiss a girl and her shriek off, "The next time I see you, I'm gonna give you the nastiest, biggest wet willy this world has ever seen. Trust in it, Steve Harrington."

The threat isn't an empty one, but it makes Steve chuckle anyway. Even though he still feels that encroaching violent twist of his stomach and a cough that could send him flat on his ass.

And when the phone call ends and Eddie is back inside with soup being made on the stove? Steve feels like maybe it's alright to rely on his true family when the time comes. He makes a promise to himself too that he'll learn how to make the best goddamned chicken noodle soup this world has ever tasted. All so that he can dote over Eddie the same. Make sure that he really knows just how much Steve loves him.

"I love you," Eddie breaths into his tussled hair later on the couch, where they're watching cartoons.

"Love you, too," Steve slurs as his body becomes heavier with sleep.

[justmeinadaze]

Pushing the Barrier Part 2 (Eddie X Reader)

A/N: A present for my fellow insomniacs <3. It is currently 4am and I couldn't sleep so I worked on this. Thank you guys again for all the kind words. I hope you enjoy part 2. I DO have ideas for a continuation so if you're still down so am I :)

Warnings: Stripper Eddie, unprotected sex for sure (be safe my angels), readers husband is an asshole but fluffy Eddie got her.

Word count: 3907

Tuesday night you find yourself home alone staring at the tv as you flip through the channels. You sigh before giving up, pressing the off switch, and throwing the remote against the couch. The phone startles you as its ring echoes through the empty apartment. It’s too late to be anyone else so you allow it to go to voicemail. 

*beep* “Hey honey. It’s me. I just wanted to let you know I probably won’t be home anytime soon. I swear I need a vacation! Hahaha but I wanted to tell you I love you and don’t wait up!”

You huff as you grab your coat and stomp out the front door.

################

“Haven’t I seen you already? Why are you keeping this thing on?”, Eddie gestures towards the glass. 

“I thought maybe you would want more time to gaze at your own reflection.”

Your laugh makes him smile. “Fair point but I’d rather spend my time looking at you.” You pull on your bottom lip with your teeth as the heat rises into to your cheeks. 

Tonight, Eddie had a bit more clothes on than usual when he was in his confinement. He was wearing his torn up blue jeans with his leather jacket over his bare chest. His guitar was on his lap but he had stopped playing when he heard your voice. He still looked as handsome as ever. 

“So, what brings you down here, Princess? Were you not going to come tomorrow?” His confident smile faltered slightly.

“My husbands at work again…” Eddie nods as his fingers strum the strings in front of him. “Hey. Why does that sound familiar?” 

He chuckles as gets up with his guitar and heads for the front of his area. Eddie knocks his knuckles against the glass and you respond as his smile widens and he takes a seat in front of the sound. His fingers move across the strings again as his soft voice carries through the room.  “Well, just look at that girl with the lights coming up in her eyes She's got to be somebody's baby She must be somebody's baby”

You sigh as you listen to him. If this is what he sounds like now you can only imagine what he’ll sound like in person. 

“She's probably somebody's only light Gonna shine tonight Yeah, she's probably somebody's baby, alright”

That lonely ache started to tug at your heart. You did belong to someone else but he never seemed to care. He didn’t appreciate you or treat you like you deserved to be treated. When you left here tonight you were going to be going home to an empty bed and that thought killed you. Eddie closed his eyes as he continued to sing and you coyly reached out to flick the switch to your right.  “I try to shut my eyes, but I can't get her out of my sight I know I'm gonna know her, but I gotta get over my fright Well, I'm just gonna walk up to her, I'm gonna talk to her tonight”

When he opened the again, he was met with your gorgeous smiling face. “That was good. I like the way you sing it. Your voice is beautiful.” His eyes drink you in from head to toe, making you feel a bit self-conscious. “I’m sorry I didn’t dress up or anything. I swear I’ll look nicer tomorrow.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up at the word “tomorrow”. “Why are you apologizing? I think you look absolutely breath taking.”

 “Please. I’m basically in my pjs.” You do a little twirl so he can see. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sweetheart, I told you. You can ask me anything.”

“Do you only wear this when you’re in there?”, you point at his clothes. 

“Kind of. I mean, I start my shift in basically what I wear out in the real world. The wardrobe decreases as the night goes on. I’m sure it’s different for the ladies here.”

“Soooo what were you doing before me that got you in just the leather jacket and jeans?”

“Well, I put the jacket on before you came in because I’m cold.”, Eddie laughs before his eyes search yours cautiously. “Are you sure this is something you want to know?”

When you nod, he continues. “The person before you was a guy. An older man I’m assuming by the sound of his voice. He said tattoos are a turn on for him which was awkward since his religion forbids getting them.” You took note of him as he spoke. How his tone and body language changed when he talked about his client. Eddie sounded almost matter of fact as if this was just something that happens. 

“We just talked but I assume by the occasional grunting there was more happening on his side of the glass then mine.” He chuckles again as he reaches forward to knock on the cube. 

“How did you fall into this line of work?”

“Need mostly.”, he sighs. “I was working 2 jobs trying to pay my rent which sucks because it made it harder for me to make gigs to play with my band.”

“I can understand that. Everything is so expensive here especially rent.”

“What about you, Princess? What do you do?”

“I’m a teacher.”

He beams over at you. “Aw, that’s nice. And the husband?”

“Good lord. Um, honestly, I’m not sure. His position carries a long title of something VP.”, you giggle. “It’s something with numbers I know that. Every time he explains it to me, I zone out. I just know it keeps him busy.” You fold your arms across your chest as you lean your side against the glass.

“I wish I could hug you.” Eddie growls as the lights above you both flash twice. “I never feel like we have enough time.”

“Time’s up, Honey!”, Mira’s voice seeps through. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” The eyes that meet yours are filled with hope. 

You smile at him as you kiss the tips of your fingers and place them against the barrier. 

####################

“What do you mean you’re going out?” Your husband follows you around the apartment as you get ready for the evening. 

“I’m. Going. Out.” You head into the bathroom and double check your outfit. You didn’t want to seem too eager but you also wanted to look nice. The simple black short sleeve shirt you decided on was just tight enough to expose all your curves along with your blue jeans and leather-bound boots. Every time you had seen Eddie your hair was pulled up so tonight you thought you would let it flow around your shoulders. 

“Where are you going?”

“Jesus! Out with some friends. Is that a problem?!”

“No. It’s just the one night I’m actually fucking home.”

“Look, my schedule doesn’t revolve around you. I spend half my time alone up here anyway. Maybe, now you can see what it feels like.”

“Can you at least fucking change? You look like a whore.”

You pause halfway to the front door, turning to face him. “You…are a fucking asshole.”

“Why am I an asshole? Because I tell you the truth?”

“Fuck you!”, you grab your purse as you slam the door.

#################

When you arrive at the bar, you see Eddie with his band on stage making sure everything looks good and the instruments are in tune. His smile shoots straight to your heart when sees you. He jumps off the stage, jogging over to you. 

“Hey! You’re here. Goddamn you look gorgeous.” You grin up at him but when he looks in your eyes, he can tell somethings wrong. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Go get ready!”, you gently try and push him away but his feet remained planted in their place. 

Eddie reaches for your hand, guiding you up the stage and behind the curtain. Feeling him touch you sent tingles through your body. Every time his skin connected with yours in anyway it made it feel alive. 

“What happened?”

“My husband decided to pick a fight with me before I left.”

“What did he say?”

You fold your arms, looking away from his intense gaze. “He said I looked like a whore.”

Eddie exhaled an angry sigh. “Fucking dick.” His fingers reach out, grabbing your arms as he pulled them apart and away from your chest. “I think you look fantastic.” You finally look up at him, meeting his eyes. “Believe me. I would know what whores dress like.”

You giggled and his smile grew.

“Eddie, dude. We’re on in five.”, one of his bandmates passed him, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, okay.” His palm comes up to rest against your cheek. “I told you. Never enough time.”

####################

Corroded Coffin was the first band to play and they did amazingly well. You could watch Eddie on stage all night long. Everything about him from his eyes to his hands moved differently than when he was behind that glass wall. He seemed genuinely at peace as if that’s where he belonged. His soft brown eyes would occasionally glance at you, making sure you were having a good time and enjoying the music. 

Your smile never left as you banged your head lightly to the rhythm. When they finished their set Eddie winked at you, holding up his index finger silently asking you to wait one moment while moved their instruments off the stage. 

“Hey! So, what did you think?”, he asked when he finally reappeared. 

“I love it. You guys were so good!”

“Why, thank you. I was thinkin’ we could go eat at that restaurant down the way. I mean, only if you want to.”, Eddie smiles at you nervously.

It was both adorable and refreshing to see him be nervous around you. When you two talked in the room he always displayed such confidence. To see him let that wall down and for you just made those butterflies flutter wildly in your tummy. 

You walked with him to the Chinese restaurant and shared a delicious meal together. He asked you a ton of questions about yourself. It felt nice to have someone care about you and what you had to say. You tried to do the same but you noticed pretty quickly with a lot of questions you asked he either gave you short, clipped answers or just insisted you didn’t want to hear any of that.

“I don’t want to push you. I do want to hear anything you feel like telling me. No matter what it is.”

“Naw Sweetheart, trust me. My life isn’t…It hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows.”

“Neither has mine. I mean…”

“Ah, see? You don’t want to tell me, do you?”, Eddie chuckles playfully as he runs his hand through his hair. 

You look down at your hands as you speak. “I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A lot of my storms come from my husband.”, you whisper. 

His fingers reach out for your chin, lifting your face to his as his lips tenderly meet yours. The kiss starts small at first, steadily growing as his confidence does. You pull away to catch your breath. 

“Do you want to come back to my apartment?”, Eddie asks with a tone filled with need.

When you nod, he quickly throws money on the table, grabbing your hand, and pulling you outside to hail a cab. 

#################

You and Eddie wait silently outside the elevator of his apartment building. When the door dings open, he gestures for you to enter first. Before it can close, you hear loud cackling as a group of people pile into the elevator with you guys. You back into Eddie’s chest as he backs up towards the corner. The door finally shuts and you’re on your way up. 

Closing your eyes, a sigh leaves your lips as you feel Eddie’s hands wrap around your waist pulling you closer to him. His warm breath hits the back of your shoulder as his nose nuzzles into your neck. 

The elevator shutters open as the group in front of you piles out. You can still hear their laughter as the door close again and the elevator moves once more. Eddie’s palm glides under your top and the feel him touching your skin shoots shivers through your body. He trails gentle kisses along your neck as you reach behind you to tangle your fingers through his hair. 

You whine as the elevator stops again and Eddie releases your waist to take your hand, guiding you to his apartment. 

He watches you as your head moves from side to side, taking everything in. It was a modest studio style apartment with brick style walls. There were posters all over the place of different hair metal bands displayed with concert tickets pinned to the corners. You giggle in front of one that is just the poster by itself. 

“Are you trying to tell me you haven’t gone to see Def Leopard yet?”

Eddie slides up next to you, playfully smacking your hand that’s pointing at the frame. “Hey, ok, look. I haven’t really had time or money to go see them yet.” 

While you continue looking around, he removes his jacket and throws it on to the couch behind him. You pause by his bed, grabbing a picture frame off the bedside table. 

“Aw. Look at you. Are these your friends?”

He comes up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he points to the people in the photograph. “Yup. These are my friends from high school. Steve, his girlfriend Nancy, Robin, and this little butthead is Dustin.”

“Are they here in the city?”

“No, they are back home.”

“Where is home?”

Eddie grabs the picture out of your hand, leaning over you to place it back on the table. When his arm comes back, his hand stops to grab your cheek and bring your lips to his. He lifts you up by your waist and places you down on his bed. 

“Indiana. Hawkins.”

His hair tickles your face as he leans his head forward to pull off his shirt. 

“Is that where your family is to?”

Eddie’s lips come down to meet yours as his hands roam your body. You reach down lifting off your own shirt, throwing it to the floor. You moan as his mouth leaves you to trace down your neck. He hovers over your stomach as his tongue darts out to lick your skin. 

He sits up, grabbing your feet as he takes off your boots and throws them to the ground. Leaning over you, he reaches to unbutton your jeans and you raise your hips as you help him pull them and your panties off your body. When you remove your bra, he breathes a heavy sigh as his eyes take you in. 

“Fuck. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful before.” Eddie lays down, placing himself between your legs, spreading them wider with his palms on your thighs. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about this? Since I heard your voice.”

His fingers dipped between your folds, spreading them into a V shape. Just this feeling alone, the feeling of his fingers touching you and his breath hitting your core was enough to drive you wild. You felt your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Eddie, please.”

“Then I heard you moaning while you were touching yourself. I desperately wanted to know what you tasted like.” Your body shuttered as his tongue licked a long stripe from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit. His cheek fell against your thigh. “Oh my god. You’re so fucking sweet.”

His head leaned in as his mouth began devouring you. You whimpered as his tongue reached deep inside of you. Eddie’s hand came up to rest on your mound as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit moving in quick circles causing you to squirm against his hold. 

You cried out when you felt his head suddenly move away from you. “I know, Princess. I just need to…” He reaches for your hand and places it between your legs. “Keep going for me.” Eddie moans when he sees you nod and slide two of your fingers into your dripping hole.

He stands up, quickly removing his jeans and boxers. You move your hand faster into your body at the sight of his hard cock, licking your tongue across your lips. When he sits back down on the bed, you sit up, and scoot your body down to meet his. Leaning your face over his lap, you spit on his tip, running your hand over it and down his length. Eddie growls as you groan, crashing your lips sloppily to his. 

He reaches between your legs, rapidly shoving his fingers into you. Your kisses turn into pants as you moan into his mouth. His eyes open, watching your face contort with pleasure as the coil in your stomach snaps and your head falls onto his shoulder as his fingers continue to pump into you. 

You lazily reach up with your hand to cup his cheek. “Fuck me. Please.”

“There are condoms in the drawer behind you.”, he whispers against your lips. “Can you grab—”

You cover his mouth with your fingertips. “I’m on the pill. Please, Eddie. I need to feel you.”

His forehead leans on yours as his cock twitches at the needy tone of your voice. “Do you trust me? I’ve been tested I swear. I’m clean.”

“Eddie,” your arms wrap around his neck. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you. Fuck. Me.”

He abruptly lifts you up and pushes you back against the bed. Your legs encircle his waist as his hand guides his dick to your entrance. Your eyes roll back as he slowly pushes himself into you. 

“Oh my god.”, you moan as his head falls beside your own. “Eddie, you feel so fucking good.”

His head gently turns and you feel his lips against your ear. “Do you remember when I was stroking my cock in front of you in the cube?” The English language seems to escape you when you feel him bottom out inside of you. “Tell me, baby. Do you remember?”

You nod as you drag your nails down his back. “I told you I was imagining my dick inside of you. Inside of your tight pussy.” The sound of him whimpering in your ear as he began thrusting his hips made your cunt flutter around him. “Fuck! This is so much better. Feeling your pussy stretch open for me.”

Eddie pumped into you harder, making your brain go fuzzy. He lifted his head to look down at your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your mouth was open as you breathed out moans. Every time his hips smacked yours, your eyebrows came together and your hands gripped harder to his shoulders. 

His mouth hovered over yours and he relished the feeling of your moans against his lips. “Are you almost there?” The tip of Eddie’s nose grazed yours, urging you to answer. “Tell me, Sweetheart. Are you about to cum?”

You lick your lips as your nod. His head falls to your side again. “Can you say it for me, please?” Eddie reaches his hand down to hold up your leg as he slides his cock all the way out and pushes it roughly back in.

“Fuck! Yes! I’m going to cum. Please, Eddie!”

He repeats his motions a couple more times before his hand releases you and he thrusts into you with aggressive purpose. The coil that had been steadily winding snapped for a second time and Eddie groaned as he felt your pussy cling around him as you came. His rhythm slowed as he felt you come down from that ledge. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck as your hand brushed his hair to the side. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you cum inside of me.” He whimpered against you as he started thrusting into you again as you continued to whisper to him. “Please, Eddie. You feel so good. You made me cum. I want you to cum to.”

His hips slowed as they sputtered and he grunted into your ear as he came inside of you. Eddie laid still on top of you as he panted into your neck. You held him to you, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. 

After a while, he rolled himself off you, disappearing into a room and coming back with a washrag. Eddie was silent as he reached between your legs and delicately cleaned you before throwing the rag into the pile of his clothes on the floor. You expected him to come lay back down but he didn’t. He remained at the edge of the bed staring off into the void. 

It broke your heart. Eddie’s face looked like it did when he was searching for you behind the glass in that room. When he was searching for a voice but was only met with himself. 

“Eddie?” You crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

He turns towards you with a smile but when he spoke his voice didn’t match his face. “I know you have to leave now. Just, uh, give me a minute and I’ll walk you down.”

“Eddie, wait.” You reach to pull him back down when he tries to stand up. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Of course I don’t but… I know your husband is probably waiting for you. Shit. I know I would be if you were my wife.” His smiles slants when he finally meets your eyes. 

“I don’t have to go home yet. I’ll bet you anything my husband isn’t even there. After I leave you at the club or whatever the fuck that place is I always come home to an empty apartment. When I wake up in the morning, he isn’t there.” You feel the anger in your chest start to rise as you fend off frustrated tears. 

“So, Eddie, if you want me to leave than I will go but I assure you no one is waiting for me.”

“I don’t want you to go.” 

You reach below you and pull his covers over your body as you lay back down on your side. The mattress shifts as crawls up the bed and gets under them beside you. One of his arms slides under the pillow holding your head as the other wraps around you, pressing you against his chest. 

“I’m waiting for you. When I’m at work I think about you all day, praying your voice is the next voice I hear. Today I was nervous you wouldn’t come to my gig. I kept glancing around the bar hoping you’d appear.” His lips tenderly kiss your shoulder. “I just can’t understand how any man especially the one who has you doesn’t get how lucky he is.”

You lean your neck down to kiss the hand that’s griping yours. You were afraid to turn around and face him, knowing there was more to wait he was saying. I’m waiting for you. You knew he would always be waiting as long as you were with your husband. Your mind started to race as you laid there in his arms. 

Maybe I should have left…

##############

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[yelenasdiary]

Pretty Thing

Pairing: MobBoss! Yelena Belova x Stripper!Reader 

Summary: Yelena knew what she wanted, she knew what she craved but what she didn’t know was how addicted she would get and she’d remove anybody standing in her way.

Adult Content | 2.8K | Dark Themes | Language Warning | Slight Degradation | Unwanted Attention | Semi-public | Fingering | Top!Yelena | Exhibitionism | Daddy Kink | 18+ONLY! Minors DNI!! |

Notes: She/Her pronouns are used. 

AC: This is just a re-upload. Some of you might remember this as a miniseries but now it's just a one-shot x.

You worked 4 nights a week at the Whisper night club as a dancer. It wasn't ideal at first but after a while you found yourself enjoying it and found a confidence in showing off your body. The club was popular, one of the more luxurious clubs in town, the only clients that came here where ones rich enough to buy the club twice over and still have enough money to play with, sometimes there was the occasional walk ins that didn't exactly belong at this particular club, and they never stay too long. 

The money you earned was halved and put aside for med school and to keep you from going back to your parents' house. That's a story for a different day. Working 4 nights a week made you enough money to cover rent, bills, groceries and whatever was left would go straight into your savings jar. Your earnings were enough so you were comfortable but not too comfortable, the club charged hire fees than most clubs and was more strict on clients who didn't follow the rules. 

Mr Barnes, the club owner always had a way of making sure you and the other ladies felt safe and protected and he never took shit from anybody. There's always been stories of him 'taking care of business' whenever somebody got too handsy with one of his girls and you believed this to be true, you all did. 

Tonight, was pretty slow for a Thursday, the club had its regulars and they usually only spent their time watching the dances on stage and throwing $20s here and there while they sipped on their whiskeys. The newbies were always so fun to tease, they'd tip the big bucks at first just to show you they had the money, always tipping double for a little girl on girl action on stage but nothing was more entertaining than the outsiders. These were the ones who didn't exactly belong in this club, the ones who won big on the slot machines and thought a girl at Whispers was a treat worth spending their winnings on. The goal was to milk them dry of their big win and watch carefully at the realization that they then couldn't afford another private dance. 

Tonight, there were a small group of outsiders, three of them, 2 females and a male sat front row of the main stage watching as Courtney did her show, but the 4th outsiders' eyes were locked on you. "Perfect" you said to yourself with a smirk before walking over to her. She had dirty blonde hair and green eyes that at first you thought where a light brown, her eyes watched your body walk towards her with a cigar in one hand. 

"I've never seen you around here before honey, are you new in town?" You ask with a welcoming smile. The woman puffed on her cigar as her eyes traveled up your body taking in the sight of your exposed skin, "Not exactly" she replied with a thick accent. Her eyes burned into yours, she was good at keeping strong eye contact. Her tongue ran slowly over her bottom lip as she gently patted her lap at you. You were used to this type of demanding behaviour from other clients and did as gestured.

"Well, what brings you to the club?" You asked as her free hand gently draped over your left hip. Her light touch wasn't like the men, she was gently but you saw in her eyes that she was hungry for something more. "A friend's birthday" her eyes looked over to the three by the stage before you felt them traveling up your legs and back to your eyes, "What's a pretty thing like you working here for?" She asked, placing her cigar in the ashtray, and grabbing her drink. "To please you baby" you replied while playing with the loose strains of hair on the back of her neck. 

It slightly disappointed you that she was no different to any of the men and other women that came to the club, although she seemed different, you'd already heard that question so many times before that it almost felt odd when you weren't asked. 

"Come on, don't be like that" she sipped her drink as her eyes looked around the room, "You're too cute to be dancing in a place like this" 

"Well, you're just too sweet" you smiled softly, feeding her ego. 

"Boss, watch my drink! I'm getting a dance!" The male friend of hers called from the stage as he followed behind one of your friends. "Sorry about him, he's a tool" the woman's eyes found your eyes, her tongue licking over the lips once more. 

"Would you like a dance baby?" You asked looking into her eyes, to your surprise she shook her head, "No sugar, this is just fine" she said, her hand moving to the small of your back. "Well, honey, that's fine with me but my boss is expecting me to do my job" your fingers twirled the hairs on the back of her neck gently, "Don't worry about your boss, if he has a problem, I can handle myself" she almost chuckled. 

Barnes never laid a hand on a woman, he never needed to, he had Agatha to do that for him if needed. She basically ran the floor and watched everybody like a hawk, you knew she wouldn't like you sitting for too long without at least making a 50 out of it. 

"It's not my boss I'd be worried about"

The woman chuckled this time as she picked up her cigar and took a puff. "I wouldn't worry about me pretty girl" her accent becomes clearer to you, Russian. 

"Oi, are you done with her yet? I want a dance!" A drunken man interrupted before you could say anything in reply. "I'll be with you in just a moment honey, how about you go to the back, and I'll meet you there" you looked over your shoulder and blew a kiss to the man just to keep him calm. 

"Don't go darl" the blonde's grip on your hip now pulled you closer to her, "I thought we were having fun" she whispered. 

"Duty calls baby and I'm sorry but he's paying" you whispered to ear before placing a soft kiss on her cheek and removing yourself from her lap. You felt her eyes watch as you walked away.

"Nah, that dancer said she'd meet be back there!" The drunken man argued with the bouncer as you approached. "Is he with you?" Steve asked, you nodded, "yeah, this big boy is all mine" You gently took the drunken man's hand and took him to the private rooms for his paid dance. A 10-minute dance for $80. 

"What will it be tonight honey? Just a dance?" you asked as the man made himself comfortable on the black leather sofa, "I want the whole package babe, all of it!" he replied. "I like a man who knows exactly what he wants" you smirked before straddled his lap, his hands landed on your hips and his eyes glued to your chest. Your white lacy lingerie leaves little to the imagination but to him, his mind was already blown away that he was only inches away from the swell of your breasts. 

"Damn baby, you're so sexy" he mumbled as you started to grind your hips against him, careful not to make any physical touch to his lap. His hands ran up and down your back as he started to enjoy the movement of your body. "God you're perfect!" He added, throwing his head back a little to get a better view. 

"Hey! get out of here! You missed your turn!" He's tone switched, and you stopped your moments to look over your shoulder. The Russian blonde stood by the curtain with a glare that could kill the man if it was possible. "Honey, you're not supposed to be back here" you got off the man's lap. "Hey! where are you going? I paid for you! Get your arse back-"

"You don't want to finish that sentence" The woman cut him short of his sentence, "I'll give you $500 to get the fuck out of here" she added. The man looked between the two of you, "No! I want her, I paid for her, so she's mine!" he argued. 

"Baby, calm down" you turned to him. 

"Fine, I'll give you $1,000" she offered. The small room was silent for a few seconds as the drunken man thought about it, "you've got cash?" He asked more calmly, the blonde pulled a roll of money from her leather jacket and threw it at the man's feet, "Now get out of here" she watched as the man picked up the bank roll and quickly counted it. "Whatever, she's yours" he mumbled before leaving in a huff. 

"Y-you can't do that…Do you know how much he was going to pay just for a 30-minute dance?" You turned to the woman. "I'll double it" she replied sternly, "you know I'm good for its" she added. For the whole package the man wanted was $150 plus tips and with some going to Mr Barnes the money you had left would've helped go towards paying the electric bill on time. 

"I'll pay the double as a tip so it's all yours" 

"Do we have a problem here honey? I saw that man storm out of here" Agatha pulled the curtain back slightly to check on you, "Everything is fine here, he just got a little too drunk and wasn't following the rules" you lied. Agatha looked between you and the blonde and nodded slowly, "Holla if you need anything" she said before disappearing. Your eyes looked back at the woman you didn't know the name of and nodded softly, "Okay, take a seat" you gestured towards the sofa. 

Within minutes you found yourself straddling her waist while her hands replaced the touch the man left behind. "I never caught your name before" you smiled softly as you started to move your body against her. "Baby girl, you don't have to give me a dance, I just didn't like the idea of you with him" she replied.

 "You're paying honey, it's what I do, just sit back and let me take your mind off things" 

She sat back and watched the way you moved your body, letting her explore the softness of your skin more than you've ever let anybody touch you. She was respectful and only let her hands roam parts you were comfortable with. You noticed the way her eyes watched every movement you made, running her tongue over her lips when she got a close-up view of your breasts. You could feel her hot breath brush over your back when you gave her a better view of your ass and hips. 

"That's enough" she stopped you, her hands leaving your hips as you stood up right. "You still had another 5 minutes" you turned around and faced her. She looked up at you with her mouth slightly open before patting her lap like she did earlier. "I want to take you out of this club" she said as you straddled her lap once again, you chuckled biting your bottom slightly, "and what? You're going to take me out of here and fall in love? Get married and live a happy ever after with a kid or two? It's going to take a lot more than just throwing rolls of money at men to really get my attention" you said honestly. 

"Is that what you want?" She asked as you felt her hands gently rub the inside of your thighs. "to get married, have kids and live the boring housewife life?" She adds. You stopped her hands from traveling further, "No, it's not" you looked into her eyes. 

"Then why are you scared?" 

"Scared? I just met you and you haven't even told me your name"

The Russian chuckled, "if it's that important to you, my name is Yelena. What's yours? Not your stage name" 

You hesitated for a moment, it was against the guidelines to tell any client your real name or anything real about yourself but something about her made you tell her. "Y/n" you smiled softly. "Pretty name for such a pretty little thing" she replied with a smirk, the look in her eyes making you nervous. "Now can I take you out of here?" 

"Why? What do you want with me so badly?" you asked, brushing a small lock of hair behind her ear. "You want to know what I want?", you nodded softly. 

"I want to give you what you're asking for. I can see it in your eyes that you're bored that you want something new. I saw the way you hated following that fucking loser in here, I watched how uncomfortable were before I interrupted and if I'm being honest, I fucking hated watching his hands all over you, over what's mine"  

"What's yours?" You cocked a brow, "You've just met me, your words mean nothing I haven't heard before. You're just like the rest of them and I'm the girl you pay to give you a good time" 

Her eyes fell to your lips as she bit her bottom lip lightly, "I'm nothing like them, I can give you everything you've ever wanted" 

"Ah yes, the 'I have so much money I can get you whatever you want' chat. Honey, keep your tip, I have other clients waiting just out those doors so unless you want to talk about something or the last few minutes of the dance you paid for, I'm going to go" you tried to move but her grip on your hips kept you in place. 

"You're too pretty to be in a place like this, dealing with all those men when you could be with me. I'm not looking for love, I'm not going to put you up in a nice fancy house or buy the finest of handbags, what I want is to hear the pretty sounds I know you can, I want to be only one to have my hands all over you and I can see you want that too" her eyes looked deeply into yourself, "you told that lady before a lie and daddy doesn't like lairs baby girl, I want to punish you for that, have you begging me to stop while I've your back arched so much all you can do is scream my name. That's what I want" 

You were so lost in her words you bother stopping her fingers from rubbing tight circles on your clit through your panties. "W-wh-what else?" You stuttered trying to keep yourself from moaning, your hands gripping her shoulders for support. 

"If I take you home, your mine. Nobody will ever make you feel the way I can, I want to feel the way your tight little pussy clenches around my fingers, I want to break you, I want to be the only person you'll ever need. But you play up and daddy will have punished you and I don't to hurt my little princess" she whispered against your ear as you bucked your hips into her hand, "I can basically fucking smell how much you want to cum, can you be a good girl and let your boss watch through the camera while I fuck you with my fingers?" 

You nodded, grinding your hips for more friction, "Y-yes" you moaned quietly to her. 

"Good girl" she smirked moving your panties to the side and sliding two fingers into your soaking pussy with ease. "Oh god" you sighed. "Shhh baby, you can't let them hear you, not yet" she kissed your neck softly, "ride daddy's fingers" she whispered. You picked up your pace, chasing your high knowing how wrong this was and the chances of being caught only made you wetter as you rode her fingers. "That's it baby girl, you going to cum for daddy?" She asked

"Yes" you whimpered. "Yes what?" She asked with her free hand helping you ride faster. "F-fuck!" You moaned, "y-yes da-daddy, fuck!" Your grip on her shoulders turned into your nails digging into her skin. "Look at the camera when you cum baby, show your boss how much of a whore you really are" Yelena instructed, "you're so close and so fucking tight" she adds.

"D-daddy please!" 

"Please what baby?"

"I n-need to cum!" You looked up at the camera like the good girl you were, "cum for me baby" she whispered as you let go and collapsed against her, "fuck!" You moaned close to her ear. She moved her fingers to drag out your orgasm. 

"Such a good girl" she smirked once you came down from your high, pulling her fingers out of you and bringing them to her lips, licking them clean of your juices. 

"Now, are you going to be daddy's good girl let me take you home to clean you up?"

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[wonijin]

HOTSHOT (R U NEXT/READER)

survival shows are hard as it is. why must you make it more complicated for yourself and entangle intense feelings with vulnerable emotions. but it wasn't your fault, they fell prey to you one by one, all by themselves. maybe you weren't the fool in this mess after all.

TAGS: 3.3k words. series. chapter one. mostly fluff and angst with a little spiciness. reader is very gay and get girls left and right. "everybody falls for y/n" type of fic. reader is also a walking red flag.

WARNINGS: the setting is a survival show so its bound to have kinda depressing themes.

“when will we have female idols as special coaches. i’ll be so motivated if somebody like newjeans minji coaches me,” you voiced as you plop down at the staircase.

the trainees assume their places at the foot of the staircase forming three rows. it was only a matter of time until you get called one by one to come through the orange curtain and pick; vocal or dance.

you sit between jiwoo and jeemin. the latter intertwining your arms, as she lights the room up with her smile. both of them looking at you as you confess your wishful thoughts.

“why would you want someone pretty when you already have me,” jiwoo asks, sending her sharp gaze to you. she raise an eyebrow and you look away, swallowing your saliva.

these kinds of comments from her were nothing new. you should’ve been used to it by now but you find yourself loss for words each time. she’s always been the type to blurt out these kind of comments without thinking of the implication. maybe she does and she just fakes innocence to not deal with the consequences.

before you could rack your malfunctioning brain for a verbal reply, jeemin saved you the trouble and changed the topic. “what will you guys pick? i’m leaning towards dance.”

“you’ll do great in dance. for me, i’m gonna be safe and pick vocal,” jiwoo answered. “what about you?” she added, looping her arms around yours. the sudden proximity would’ve been fine any other time but her remark earlier kept you on your toes.

“me? i don’t really have much of a choice, you know,” you say, pointing to your grey badge with a huge silver “L”. low levels don’t get to choose, they only get the higher level trainees’ leftovers. cruel but you were confident in your abilities to stay afloat whichever category landed at your feet.

“you’re so dramatic. there’s only two options, im sure you’ll get to choose,” jiwoo reassures you after giggling at your antics.

“choose dance so we can be on the same team,” jeemin clutch your arms tighter and starts to shake it lightly as if it would persuade you.

“or i could end up competing against you. no, thank you,” you pull your away from her grasp only to reconnect your hands together.

jeemin pouts in return and your stomach clench looking at her. somewhere deep inside you had the urge to kiss it away. which you find weird because why would you want to kiss your friend. yes, she’s cute. but why would you want to do that. friends don’t do that.

before you get swallowed by your thoughts you hear jeemin’s name get called. it was time for her to choose. she gave your hand one last squeeze before bidding both you and jiwoo good lucks and good byes.

“choose vocals,” jiwoo whispers next to you after a few seconds.

jiwoo is always the type to be assertive but never aggressive. she’ll always be commanding but leave just enough room for you to pull away if you want to. but you don’t think you ever will. you like that side of her. and its son jiwoo, only fools dare to refuse her.

“i don’t know, maybe,” you whisper back playfully, keeping your head faced forward while you still feel jiwoo’s gaze on the side of your head.

jiwoo scooches closer and nudges her head onto your shoulder. to the untrained eye, it must’ve looked like jiwoo’s just clinging onto you. well, its technically right but something in you screams that its not just simple ‘clinginess’. “come on. wouldn’t you like to be teams with me? it’ll be fun.”

you would’ve answered. although, you didn’t know what but you would’ve blurted out. but before you could open your mouth, jiwoo’s name echoed throughout the lobby. saved by the bell, again.

“well, i’ll see you on the same team,” she flashes a smile before walking away.

waiting patiently for your turn, you chat idly with the other trainees to pass the time.

you pull the orange curtain back to reveal the girls in lines. jeemin’s eyes caught yours and give her a smile. the girl in front of her, jihyun, noticed the interaction and waved. you mimicked before walking toward the board containing different stickers. two for dance and vocal each. one of the two vocal badges was for a leader position.

you look behind you to see who’re the other leaders. almost immediately, your scanning gaze locked onto jiwoo’s, as if she was waiting for you to turn around just so she can meet your eyes.

the eye contact lasted for a split second before you turned around and grab the vocal position. the normal one, without the leader position.

jiwoo stands in front with yunah and jeongeun next to her. on her farthest left is yewon, another leader.

you stand in a line together with the other trainees who chose the same category as you, waiting for your name to get called by either of the two. beside you is wonhee and seoyeon. suddenly, anxiousness plagues your insides as you realize you’d be either in the same team as them or end up competing against them.

“so, jiwoo its your turn to pick next. who will it be?”

your eyes avoided jiwoo. you were afraid that desperation would be seen as plain as day on your face and holding eye contact with her would solidify that.

so you turn your attention to the person in front of you. which happened to be minju. her face morphs into confusion at your sudden focus in her. you only smile and minju furrows her eyes in turn. the action only made your smile wider, ‘how cute’.

“y/n.”

jiwoo’s voice broke both you and minju out of your trance. and it took you a second to understand that jiwoo wants you on her team. you look back at jiwoo to meet her unreadable face, her gaze going from minju to you.

“you looked worried there for a second,” yunah teases you as soon as you joined her and jeongeun, putting her arm around your shoulder comfortably.

“as if we’d pass up the chance to be with you,” she adds as she pinches your cheeks with her free hand.

“although, it looked to me you wanted to be with minju more” jeongeun added, joining in and putting her arms around you as well. while her other arm punches your stomach lightly.

“shut up,” you say, laughing at their teasing.

it has been a few days since practice started and your group has been going through some hiccups. well, its mostly yunah.

“yunah, you can tell me whats wrong. im here for you,” jiwoo’s words were nothing but soft and comforting. you were about to reach your friend when jiwoo’s eyes flicker to yours. ‘i’ll handle this.’

jeongeun and wonhee had already moved out to their own corner to continue practicing. you refused to leave yunah alone but jiwoo’s hard stare says all you need to know.

let the leader do her thing.

so, you distance yourself from the pair and roam your eyes around the practice room to look for something to do. you could use the time to practice, yes. but you’re sure that you would bury yourself six feet under the ground if you hear the song one more time.

the empty water dispenser gleamed at your search, the perfect opportunity to do something different. you walked towards it, detached the empty gallon and put it over your shoulder.

you left the practice room, heading to the cafeteria where they store the refills.

that is when hyewon saw your silhoutte from outside their practice room and called out your name. “y/n! what are you doing?”

“im getting refills,” you enter their practice room with ease, “bang!” blaring through the speakers yet nobody was really practicing. they were all doing their own thing, scattered across the vast room.

“great timing!” hyewon exclaims as she walks towards their own water dispenser. just like the one in your practice room, it was empty of any water.

“here! fill ours too,” she smiles at you brightly, her eyes twinkling in mischief. suddenly, her soft hands grips yours, the thin veil of sweat clinging on to you. she opens your palms and put the neck of the gallon there.

“what? no! you fill it up! its yours!” you exclaims as you take her hands and forcefully shove the gallon back in her grasps.

“come on. do me a little favor, won’t y-”

a cough intervenes hyewon’s pleading and forceful words. you turn around to see youngseo, who’s already boring her fiery eyes through your soul. then, her eyes travels to you and hyewon’s intertwined hands.

just like opposite magnets, both of you retreated your hands quickly causing the gallon to fall into the floor with a thud. you and hyewon both wince at the sound but youngseo however did not flinch.

instead, her gaze remained hot towards you. “i’ll be coming with you,” she says softly with her underlying firmness. her voice was always like that, sweet and subtly strong.

how you missed it. when was the last time she addressed you directly again?

“you don’t have to, i’ll be fine alone,” you convince her. it has been a long time since you both spoke to each other. truthfully, you weren’t ready to face her yet. its been too long and you have forgotten what being around her is like.

“no. i want to,” her firmness surfaced through her small voice. you decide that its really not up for debate. when youngseo has made up her mind, it’ll be hard to break her resolve. what youngseo wants, youngseo gets.

maybe remembering the feelibg of her company isn’t bad at all.

you watch as she picks up the gallon from the floor and head towards the door, you follow her until you were both walking in the hallway, side by side.

youngseo didn’t talk. as much as you wanted for her to say something, you knew she wouldn’t open her mouth unless it was to reply to something you said. or so you thought.

“how’s practice coming along?” her question puts an end to your thoughts. if you weren’t surprised by her accompanying you before, you were now that she was actually speaking to you.

“we’re…” you paused, thinking of the right words. choosing the right words carefully, you didn’t want to come across as overconfident. “we’re moving along, i guess”

you see her nod lightly in you peripheral vision. your eyes find the floor. there was so much you both needed to talk about. yet you were talking about practice.

“im happy you chose the vocal team. the world needs to hear your voice more,” youngseo’s voice flew like water against the air, natural and unwavering.

you snapped your head towards her and she turn hers just in time to catch the surprise look in yours, like she knew you were going to look at her.

it was the first time you’ve actually held eye contact after a long time. you drink in the familiarity you’ve lost and among it are a thousand words you can’t decipher. something flicker in her face before she breaks the stare.

“yeah, i just feel like i’ve been branding myself too much to dance lately,” you say, knowing it would end the conversation. a test to see if youngseo will surprise you again and start a new one.

but she didn’t. and the whole walk continued in awkward silence. so many unsaid words hanging in the air, the burden getting heavier each step closer to her practice room.

‘look, how about we just forget everything and start over?’

'we both know it won't work'

the past looms over both of you like dark shadows and you both know it. yet, youngseo did make any move to open the skeleton in your shared closet.

'let's talk, youngseo. you can’t keep ignoring me forever’

‘im sorry, i just need more time’

she’s ignoring it so why shouldn’t you. if someone’s going to peel the scab, it wouldn’t be you. you already did your part. a long time ago.

'i need space.'

‘you already got your space, youngseo. what about me? it's been months. if you've found peace then let me find mine!'

before you knew it, the door to her practice room is in sight. a part of you felt relieved to finally be free from her presence, while another part was longing to be with her a little longer.

youngseo stands beside it, holding the doorknob with one hand. she smiles at you sweetly. then waves at you lightly, “i’ll see you soon! good luck on your practice!”

the thoughts come pouring in as the door shuts in front of you. she was gone like she had never been there. you would’ve wondered if the last few moments were real if it weren’t for her voice replaying vividly on your mind. just like a melody you can’t get enough of.

just like that, you find yourself getting stuck in her web. again.

the following days went by quickly. but youngseo never once left your mind. you know you shouldn’t think much of her actions, youngseo’s too unpredictable.

after everything, why now?

“are you even paying attention?” jeemin’s whines mixed with the song blasting through the speakers.

it was late into the night and you decided to stay back with the tall girl to help polish her moves. you thought her moves were perfect the first time she showed it to you. and by the nth time, your mind can’t help but drift.

jeemin couldn’t believe it when you agreed after all the stage is coming up soon, there’s no time to loiter around. but she didn't have to know that you can never refuse her.

“are you okay? we can go home if you’re tired.” jeemin’s offer sounded sweet, she’s as nice as ever. but you witness the fire burning in her eyes, begging for her passion to translate into her performance. you knew it will never be extinguished completely, she was born to be a performer. so you let it burn you a little more.

“im fine, don’t worry about me and carry on,” you gesture for her to continue. and she restarts the song all over again. this time, you poured her all of your attention.

it was a wonder how your mind sailed before when jeemin is tight in front of you. her performance was impeccable as ever, the hard work and talent prominent in every sway and stroke.

“you’re off to space again,” jeemin narrows her eyes down at you playfully. her raspy voice was a blessing and her smile was godsend. an angel looks down at you.

“i wasn’t this time! i swear! i was just mesmerized.” your hands flew up in defense as you stand up to join her in front of the mirror.

“stop lying!” she smacks your arm lightly, her laugh gracing the whole room. you were glad nobody else was in the room, it made the privilege of making her laugh sweeter.

“fine then. if you were actually paying attention, at least give me some feedback.” your heart leaped at the sight of her crossing her arms.

“you were perfect!” jeemin let out a big sigh. as much as jeemin likes being praised, she needs actual feedback. something she can work with for these next few days leading to the stage.

“give me something more specific,” jeemin rolls her eyes lightly. but even then her cheeks stay up and her smile never faltered.

“well,” you think for a bit. “i liked how you start of the song. it really set the mood for the song.”

in front of you, jeemin’s pink turn a bright shade of pink.

“i think you also killed the omona part. you’re naturally cute so plus points for that. and then this move,” you didn’t know the name of the move so you demonstrate it to her.

jeemin bursts out laughing at your attempt. your awkward movements reflecting wholly through the mirror and you follow after jeemin, throwing your head back. “stop laughing, im not that bad.”

but jeemin continued giggling and so did you. the joyful sounds filling the entire space and drowning the faint sounds of the speakers.

you calm down after a few seconds but one look from each other sent you both into another spiral again. soon, both of you were lying on the floor, clutching your stomachs.

“ah- my stomach hurts from laughing so much.” jeemin blurts out between breaths and gasps.

“who said we’re done yet? you just made fun of my dancing.” you hands flew to her sides before she can fully comprehend what you said. another round of laughter echoes throughout the room as you tickle jeemin mercilessly.

somehow, she managed to get free from your grasp and now a tall baby is chasing you around the practice room.

jeemin catches your arm and pulled you to her, lightly but it was enough for your bodies to collide. she uses the momentum to turn your back to the wall, effectively locking you.

“got you,” she smiles brightly at you, a thousand watts on her lips.

the laughter comes to a gradual halt as silence blankets the both of you. her grin turns into a soft smile and her eyes felt endearing against yours. you couldn’t look at her in anything but adoration.

you anticipated it would happen. in fact, you hoped for it. but it still caught you by surprise when her lips press against yours. soft and gentle just like everything about her.

you wanted to press harder, for it to last longer. but you were already living in a dream and a second longer would be asking for too much.

jeemin pulls away in haste. you would’ve dived in for one more if you hadn't seen the panic flashing across her features. she blinks once, twice until the haze in her eyes clears.

she remained stiff for a moment. she looks up at you and the look of regret she gives you haunt you even after weeks.

“im sorry, i shouldn’t have,” she whispers, pupils still blown wide.

reassurance was a the tip of your tongue but you held back. but what were you going to say? that its fine and to just forget it ever happened?

immediately your mind reverts back to youngseo for a split second. it didn’t turn out well when you said that to her so what good would it do to say it to jeemin?

jeemin looks at your face, trying to make sense of your incomprehensible expression just to take a peak at your thoughts.

but each moment felt eternity to jeemin. and trepidation sets in her veins deeper and deeper until it roots and sprouts into anxiety. all while you weren’t aware of the consequences your silence had brought to her.

“jeemin-”

before you can finish, she was already out of door. from the practice room, you hear the echo of her dashing footsteps. as it died down, you were left wondering if you just let history repeat itself.

another friendship broken in the name of fleeting romance. but will this time be worth it?

[dreamingonclds]

Everything Happens For A Reason | LN4

Summary: Sometimes the people that love us hurt us the most but, you can't seem to stay away. After an immense break up, you've become the most passionate in your career. Going from casting to casting, concert to concert, audition to audition, you become one of the most famous artists of your generation. You were done picking up the broken pieces of your heart when somebody comes into your life and you place your heart in someone else's hands again.

Word Count: 968

Pairing: Lando Norris x female! reader ft. Carlos Sainz

Warnings: none

Chapter 2

Previous Chapter

After what felt like the longest 2 weeks Jen and you were finally on the 14 hour flight to Monaco. You could burst with excitement, one of your biggest dreams was to go to a Grand Prix. Now, you were just trying to catch up with the current season. You’re an extremely busy person so the most you could do was check the race standings online. You knew all the current drivers already, following them on instagram and all. But, you had never seen any of the grill the grid videos or any social media content. It’s safe to say you regret not keeping up with it but your love for the sport never faltered.

Jen’s beside you working on her laptop, or so you thought. She suddenly gasps and starts slapping your side causing you to jump

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” she semi yells causing some people to give you weird looks

“Holy shit Jen you scared the crap out of me” you say as you put your hand to your chest

“Sorry not sorry” she giggles at you as she places her laptop on your lap

“What was that guys name, Lando, the one you “used” to have a crush on” she says as she add air quotes after his name

You nod yes at her waiting for her to continue

“I was watching some interviews and look” she says excitedly as she puts her headphones on you and presses play

The video starts and it’s a QnA of the McLaren boys, each taking turns interviewing each other.

Looking down at his cards and then looking back up at Oscar, “Who is my celebrity crush?” asks Lando

“Oh umm easy, that girl that sings the song that goes “my heart wants what it wants”. She was in this movie I just watched. Whats her name, oh yeah Y/N Y/L/N” Oscar says confidently

“You know me so well” Lando says proudly,  looking from Oscar to the camera

“Oh it’s not like you only ever play her music or have her picture as your background” Oscar laughs and teases Lando

Lando blushes furiously and hides behind his cards, leaning back laughing and nearly tipping over the chair

“See, see, look!” Oscar says pointing at the staff who were also giggling and nodding agreeing with what Oscar just confessed

“You didn’t have to expose me like that man” Lando says once he catches his breath and recollects himself

Looking at the camera Lando says, “I mean can you blame me, look”

He takes his phone out his pocket and shows is proudly to the camera

“If you guys really loved me you would try and bring her to one of the races” Lando suggests to the Mclaren team jokingly

“If you get pole or a win, we’ll see what we can do”, one of the team members says

“Actually!”, Lando and Oscar yell at the same time

“Wait nevermind, I take it back, I’d be a mess around her. Just thinking about it makes me nervous”, he says as he fidgets with his hand and shifts in his chair

…

Now it’s your turn to blush, you don’t even want to turn and look at Jen. Never in a million years would you think your crush would be reciprocated or that any F1 driver would know who you are.

“Jen that video isn’t even that recent, I'm sure that his “crush” has passed”, you say finding it hard to believe

“Are you serious! He has you as his background, on his PHONE! You only do that when you really like someone” she says 

“And you know it!” she says accusingly, pointing her finger at you

You shyly smile and turn to look out the plane window to hide your blushing cheeks

“Ok, you have a point but that video is nearly a year old. I doubt I've even crossed his mind recently. He’s been so focused on his career to even think about me. People move on Jen it’s okay, it’s not that serious. Besides it was just a crush, no actual feelings involved.”, you say disappointedly and surprised you feel that way

“So”, she says giving up on her argument

You both sit in silence for a couple seconds before you hear her move in her seat

“Wait” she says as she has an epiphany

“No offense but, why would they invite you to a race? I mean, I don’t think you’ve ever spoken about F1 publicly”

“No, I know what you mean”, you cut her off, giggling at her honesty

“Unless he still likes you, I mean like you said, that video was nearly a year old. He must still have a crush on you!”, she says excitedly

You finally turn back to look at her

“Oh my god, you have a point. They actually made it happen!”, you say agreeingly

“They fucking made it happen!” she yells making other passengers look at your direction

You both mouth and whisper yell sorry’s towards the people and laugh at Jen’s lack of decorum. After you both calm down you suddenly get butterflies on your stomach.

“Oh god, I’m nervous now, I wasn’t before”, you say worriedly grabbing Jen’s hand

“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, you are literally Y/N Y/L/N. We just have to dress to impress you know. Might catch more than just his eyes.” she says, smiling slyly

“Classic Jen” you tell her as you slap your forehead

“What? This can be the start of something new! I bet it will be” she says confidently turning to look at you

You turn to look out the window once again, smiling at all the possibilities. Wondering if what Jen just said will have any truth to it.

“We’ll see” you finish

[blvddy-bxnnii]

NSFW Tissaia and Yennefer headcanons

Could NOT help myself

Warning: As the title suggests, this is all nsfw, 18+

I tried to make it detailed while staying true to their character, although its short. Hopefully, this inspires some excellent smut. Enjoy the few quotes at the end ;)

(I have no shame)

-----

• Tissaia is entirely too easy to turn on. Her years of abstinence and hardly getting off to her own fingers, it wasn't a surprise when she started to crush on her protégé, she'd get wet. Too fast for her own liking and to the degree it happened at. Often or not excusing herself a few times from lessons or meetings just to try and calm herself. When she witnessed the enchantment, that itself got her riled up. A cascade of thoughts through her head and the slightest smirk from Yennefer unraveled her. And when they had become official, she felt as if a teenager again. Wanton desires for the younger woman that left her breathless, wet, and Yennefer all too happy to stay in her bed chambers

• Yennefer needs a lot of reassurance during intimacy. Especially at the beginning of their relationship. Encouragement from Tissaia and guidance. 'You're doing so good', 'Just like that', 'That's my good girl', showing her the spots that made her weak. Sure Yennefer had partners beforehand or simple one night stands to satisfy her own needs but this was different. This was Tissaia. Her confidence tanked at the sight of her and only wanted to please her which led to self doubt at her abilities. Unsure if she moved her fingers right, if the foreplay turned Tissaia on, if she ate her out correctly. It took a few nights together to build that confidence in bed, now she knows every spot that makes Tissaia weak

• Yennefer has a praise kink. Compliment her and she'll get shy. Have Tissaia compliment her and it goes straight between her legs. From when she was a protégé and Tissaia complimented her on performing a spell correctly, arousal would rack her body to the compliments in bed with the woman. Every praise uttered by Tissaia had her feigning a moan or downright begging. The sheer effectiveness of the words made it easier to tease under the public eye. No one bats an eye at Tissaia praising, chalking it up to her Rectoress role but for Yennefer, she knew all too well what Tissaia was trying to do. By the time they reached the bed, Yennefer would be soaked. She'd come undone, a moaning mess with the simplest touch. The more praises from Tissaia, 'You're doing so well for me', she'll utter and Yen will unravel

• Yennefer doesn't particularly like being tied up. If she does permit it, they're usually quick release. A remnant of her past that she wants to forget. The process of agreeing to being tied is followed by lots of praise, encouragement, and aftercare by Tissaia. Accompanied with an open connection to talk telepathically and a safe word or motion to perform when she feels too claustrophobic by the restraints. However, she will admit that most of the time, after many trial and errors, she's grown to accept it more

• Tissaia is a power bottom. She relishes in control and power, it would be no different in the bed. She gets off on telling Yennefer how she wants it, what to do while getting fucked in the process. Garnering pleasure from both sides of commanding Yennefer but also getting exactly what she wants simultaneously. Arching her back into her, grasping at the sheets, rolling her hips, getting exactly what she wants

• Yennefer is a switch. Such as Tissaia, she also relishes in control but at the same time giving it up. To feel Tissaia’s hands on her body, to heed every beck and call, listening to that voice she always uses to boss people around, feeling her mark her body, claim it as hers. Incredibly turned on but also feeling wanted. Somebody that's wants her, mind and body, cherishing her, kissing down her body. Arching her back into Tissaia, a moan on her lips at her behest

• Yennefer is known to always get what she wants. It doesn't end outside of the bed. When in the mood to be in control, she challenges Tissaia, overpowering her, getting exactly what she wants. Tissaia panting, a mess, writhing and begging underneath her. Covering her in bites and kisses, claiming her just as she would do to her. Anything to see the infamous, prim, and perfect Rectoress anything but prim, perfect, proper

"You're taking me so well, Yennefer.. you're such a good girl for me."

"So wet and just for me."

"How would they react? The rectoress begging for her former students' fingers, making a mess all over the sheets, moaning as if no one else walks these halls."

"That's it.. that's it, Yennefer. Louder, I want people to know you're mine."

[nwjn-z]

candy hearts [smau]

[04]

Loneliness

No one likes being lonely.

Especially Y/N L/N

Growing up in a well off family obviously had its perks, but one of its downsides was the overwhelming loneliness.

With a father that was always busy, a mother who never cared for motherhood, and a younger brother who couldn’t care less about anything other than video games, Y/N was always so lonely.

Growing up, making friends was such a herculean effort for Y/N. Constantly fearing the judging eyes of her peers. The watchful gazes of others made her stomach churn with anxiety making her nauseous. Often avoiding eating in order to not vomit in the middle of class due to sheer anxiousness.

And moving to a whole knew town all by herself was not spared by these feelings. Everyday leading up to her move was more gruelling than the last.

“What made them think moving their teenage daughter to a knew town all by herself was a good idea?”, she thought.

The explanation of “You’re almost an adult Y/N you need to learn how to be an adult” didn’t help.

But when she arrived in this small, cozy little mountain town she was surprised by the warm welcome.

“And this is the cafeteria, but there’s also a patio with tables to eat as well” says Wendy Testaburger, the girl currently giving you a tour of your new school. She’s nice you think. A pretty, confident, and well adjusted girl, no wonder she’s student council president.

“Do you have any questions?” She asks you with a warm smile, “uhhh no” you say, “Well if you do you have any my number so text me anytime!”

She gives you a smile and you follow her out of the school after you get your schedule.

You get a text from Wendy asking if you want to meet her friend Bebe. Despite being nervous you agreed and got boba with them. Bebe was like Wendy except she was a lot more outgoing. Even though Bebe seemed like the type of person you would try and stay away from, for some reason you felt so safe with her.

She was so welcoming and kind, you almost thought she was faking it for the sake of Wendy but she was very genuine. They told you that you were already inducted into their friend group and wanted you to meet everyone else. You declined at first since you were nervous but with some pushing you said you would consider it.

Nonetheless, Wendy and Bebe promised that you had nothing to worry about and if you decided you wanted to meet the others Bebes house was always open to you.

Before you went to Bebes to hang out you had your first day at South Park High. The anxious pain in your stomach dropped once Wendy walked you to your 1st period. After you bid your good byes you walk in and someone immediately catches your eye, a red-headed boy with the prettiest curls you’ve ever seen.

He was staring out the window with a bored expression on his face, but suddenly he turned and made eye contact with you. Both of your faces become redder than the bouncy locks of his hair.

All you could think of at that moment was “How could somebody be so pretty?”

little did you know he was thinking the same thing.

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