#sorry this took forever to answer i got distracted

[sovawife]

THE RUSSIAN GUY FOR VALORANT I FORGOT HIS SAME FROM VALORANT

i cant believe u forgot his name bro.....

-What made me like them

I will be so real I have liked this man since like 2022 or something like that but I never acted on it because I just never bothered to. Also because you liked him Merlin so I didn't want to overstep LOL BUT THINGS HAVE CHANGED HOLY SHIT. either way my hyperfixation from yone started to shift and my brain just randomly decided to latch onto him even tho HE WAS LITERALLY AT THE BACK OF MY BRAIN MY BRAIN REACHED SO FAR AND GRABBED HIM OUT OF THE DARK RECESSES. AND HERE WE ARE. JFC/lh

-My favorite thing about them

He is very kind and considerate towards others! He's very praising towards his friends and super friendly in general and I think it's nice :) also he's pretty :')

-Nicknames we have for each other

Spectrum calls him Sash (short for Sasha), dear, honey, sweetie, and also goofy names sometimes like snookums. I think Sova calls him my dear, my love, sunshine, my sun, my light- but they also call each other stuff in Russian/Mandarin bc they both speak the languages lol

-A headcanon of our relationship/friendship

Sova has tried to teach Spectrum how to use his bow, he's not very good at it but he's trying :')

-My favorite image of them

this one :)

-Anything else!

ummm we need to kiss and marry (we are already married)

[vypridae]

oook IDEAS!!!!!

i was looking the e handbook this morning and it’s all pretty straightforward, not a ton of room for interpretation except for looking at the wording of a few of them

throwing things at the wall rn pretty much so shoot down as needed as i’m not very attached to these ideas👍👍

we’re already utilizing 15 which is the two murders and two victims first one committed is punished also also side idea i had for chapter three, since we already have kiyo as the second culprit. what do you think about shoving miu or himiko or angie in there?

i’m leaning more toward himiko or angie now that i think about it rather than miu just bc of the angst potential especially combined with korekiyo being the one who’s gonna survive the trial and all. with himiko we’re already experimenting with a very upset tenko and i feel considering her whole thing with men in canon [did you wanna change up the characters a little btw? forgot to ask] that’s just gonna upset her 10x more than if it was just himiko as the sole blackened.

and then with angie i’m completely fine killing her off since we’re going with the simulation idea and implies the shinounaga siblings will still live after the whole thing stops, anyways anyways that’s a whole tangent. by that point it’s about the midpoint of the game, meaning we sacrifice some interactions but they still get a decent amount of time together meaning! ohhh the survivors guilt korekiyo will be left with man that’d be fun to experiment with [once we settle some major details i definitely plan on trying to write out some stuff for this <33]

anyways back to the rules, aside from the pool one there’s another one that i don’t really remember what was for? i think it was added from the ch1 trial since it was so close to the limit everybody was pointing at monokuma for artificially starting something. “#9. monokuma will never directly commit a murder.”

at the current moment i’m not entirely sure how we could utilize that? but if it helps at all it does imply that it’s possible he will assist like provide things/information but he will never land a blow on the victim

otherwise the rules are super straightforward and otherwise all encompassing and are just “hey go kill, go to bed at this time, don’t try to kill monokuma, body discover is 3 people” etc etc

man we’re two people and even with all the unsettled details we’re already building a better story than a whole team of writers wow

ooh ideas !!! sorry this is taking so long to answer btw i just now am actually getting around to using my brain properly BAHAJSDHKA

we’re already utilizing 15 which is the two murders and two victims first one committed is punished also also side idea i had for chapter three, since we already have kiyo as the second culprit. what do you think about shoving miu or himiko or angie in there?

OOOOOH DO YOU MEAN LIKE FOR THE FIRST CULPRIT? IM NGL I KINDA REALLY LIKE THE IDEA OF THAT BEING HIMIKO ACTUALLY, then again i think that would be lowk obvious because wasn't that how the og game went? i mean. well kind of, kork was trying to frame himiko for killing tenko so ig its different still. i love that idea i think we need to use that :3 we can keep angie alive for at Least one more chapter for u

also we can change the characters up a little!! i feel like with rewrites thats kinda a necessary thing to do in part because i feel like theres always SOMETHING you get rid of when you do rewrites yk? idr all of tenkos like, lore? but i think we should at least lower her Hate For Men (i personally have a hc that she has Four (4) men she likes from the get go or at least she hates them less and those are shuichi, rantaro, gonta and kiibo so we can do something with that maybe? idk i dont remember a lot about tenkos backstory so herkgsajkdfg)

OOOHOHOHO we could have something thats like monokuma is like the uuuuuuh . accomplice? no. yeah thats the word . we coudl ahve something like that maybe?? like he isnt caoable of directly laying a hand on the students but he sure as hell can help them come up with ideas and maybe thats something that happens WEHRFGAJKDHGF

i didnt think thered be too many rules we could utilize based on phrasing and stuff so this is about all i expected EBGJKDSHFJKG not in a bad way just like . i am not good at thinking outside the box

BAHAJSHJKASH we're just so good at this actually thast what it is

[kaoharu]

running around you in circles blocking your path HIIIIII HI

describe your favorite smell if you had 3 wishes, what would they be? favorite thing to do on rainy days? how tall are you? what is your favorite holiday? favorite song right now? 3 ways to win your heart? 3 habits you have? when is your birthday?

ask game !!

🍯 - answered that one here !

🎂 - also answered that one here sorries i dont want to type again 😓

🍭 - 5ft 1in yayayayayayyayyyyy. sniffles

🎶 - rather fond of feeling good as of late as well . . . i have many favorite songs

💘 - hmhmm im a simple girl tbh first you need to hang out and slash or talk to me in general a Lot. then you get into the media i like ( bonus if you become craaazy abt it too ) and then finally ? i dont know tbh when it comes to real people i really only end up liking my friends . helppppppppppppp

🕊️ - i chew gum almost constantly ( its my alternative to chewing my nails lol ), i have just now discovered i lifemy pinky finger when i drink. hmm ? anyways aaaand. i pace my kitchen Specifically when i need to think. like literally doesnt matter where i am when ive gotta think i move myself to the kitchen /silly

🎁 - feb 11 !!!

[marshmallowgoop]

So if DC were that kind of series, how well do you think a HeiShinRan love triangle would work?

A-are you reading my mind? One of the posts I wanted to make is exactly about this!

I... even put together ranji.psd for it... a lot longer ago than I thought, wow.

Thank you for encouraging me to finally actually write this.

So, first off: I'm admittedly not the most familiar with the Detective Conan manga. But I've scanned over some assorted cases in the manga, particularly Heiji cases (of course), and I couldn't help but be immensely intrigued by a few extra interactions between Heiji and Ran that weren't adapted into the anime (Files 93, 151, 152):

The second one isn't too noteworthy—and honestly, it was probably cut from the anime because this plot point of Heiji deducting in an exaggerated accent is, as far as I can tell, never brought up again or resolved—but the protectiveness that Kogoro displays there does catch my interest. He clearly seems to see Heiji as a potential romantic partner for Ran, something that I don't think ever comes up anywhere else.

But it's the first instance that gets to me the most. Something the anime does adapt is that Ran only starts warming up to Heiji because he reminds her of Shinichi (Episode 48):

Further, it's later revealed in the series that both Ran and Kazuha love seeing their detective friends smile upon solving a case (File 319):

So, that moment of Ran pushing Conan out of the way so that she can watch Heiji work is loaded with stuff, for all three characters. For Ran, she misses Shinichi so desperately that someone who merely reminds her of him is enough to make her grin and blush and feel at ease. For Heiji, constantly compared to others—even called "The Kudo of the West" in FUNimation's English dub!—there's something achingly tragic about being admired not for who you are but for the person you resemble. For Shinichi, Heiji represents everything that he has lost. He can't give Ran the victorious smile that she's looking for anymore, and she scolds him and removes him from the picture.

But the third "Ranji" example, from File 152, perhaps points to a shift. When Ran lists what she likes about Shinichi (Episodes 2, 42), thoughtful isn't an adjective that leaves her lips:

(That last one, though... girl....)

Ran appreciating Heiji for his own qualities, rather than seeing him as only an echo of Shinichi, does grab my attention.

Of course, personally speaking, I don't really like love triangles. They tend to be tired, exhausting drama, and in this case, I'm a HeiShinRan (and HeiShinKazuRan) supporter, so ultimately, I'd like them all happily loving each other.

But I do find it unfair, in my probably embarrassingly limited experience with love triangles, that they are often composed of two women longing for the affection of one man. So, I can't lie—I maybe yearn a little bit for the love triangle that was arguably being set up here before getting scrapped?

If nothing else, it would mean more interactions between Ran and Heiji, and I would adore that. Out of the main cast, Heiji's pretty much only allowed meaningful interactions with Conan/Shinichi and Kazuha, and, yeah, I don't love that it'd be a love triangle giving him more meaningful interactions with Ran, but I would love the additional interactions. I'd love to see Ran more involved in the cases that the boys solve. I'd love to have moments where Heiji and Ran bond over being accomplished practitioners of their respective martial arts, or how they both have famous fathers, or literally anything.

Plus, I think a scenario where Ran is genuinely interested in pursuing Heiji romantically would also have a huge impact on Shinichi's actions. He likes Heiji! If he saw that Heiji makes Ran happy, would he really keep breaking her heart and asking her to wait for him?

And, for Heiji, I feel like this setup also allows more opportunities for him to seriously confront his insecurities. "She only likes me because she can't have you" is a conversation I could see between him and Shinichi, and that would absolutely have my interest. I have so many feelings about Episode 479 and will finish that 20-page essay someday maybe because it's probably the biggest example of tackling Heiji's insecurities that I know of.

There's something similar with Ran and Kazuha already (File 280), and gosh, I so wish that we got more exploration into it than just a, "Kazuha... You're so cute! ❤️" from Ran.

All this said... it's way easier and less messy to not go into love triangle business at all, and I'm totally cool with that decision! It's cute that Ran and Shinichi are so supportive of Heiji and Kazuha, and vice versa. Love triangles tend to be pretty obnoxious. But I do think there is some compelling character exploration that could be done with a HeiShinRan triangle that I wouldn't hate—especially if it ended with happy HeiShinRan/HeiShinKazuRan.

[chazz-is-a-zelda-fan]

i let bery know is okey!! its better to see my friend.... when its dark anyways!! i let kyan know how long they've been out.... and i let him wake up a bit before we continue!! -🖤

Bery nods, glad he wasn't holding everyone back. they stretch again once he stands, fixing kyan's hat to its usual position. "so, where to next?"

[yelenasdiary]

Little Spidey

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Spider-Woman! Reader

Summary: After coming home from a long mission, you struggle to accept a little shift in your relationships. 

Angst, Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Brief mentions depression & loneliness | 1.3K

AC: Wrote this for my good friend, @scarletwidowblackwitch ! so sorry it took me forever to get this one out for you! I hope you enjoy! x 

Your apartment was quiet while you lay in bed staring at the roof, usually your roommates, Peter and Kate would be making so much noise that a sleep in was almost non-existent in the small apartment. The time on your phone reading, 10:16am reminded you just how hungry you were. After getting home rather late last night, sliding through the door without making a sound, careful not to wake your roommates, you took a shower and fell as the second your head hit the pillow. 

You wandered into the kitchen, the two friends of yours leaving it how they normally did. Their breakfast dishes in the sink, crumbs from the cereal box on the countertop along with some small droplets of milk. You shook your head with a soft, amused smile on your lips as you reached for a wash cloth to clean up after them. 

After breakfast, you showered and gave your suit a quick steam before you picked up your phone, the weather was beautiful today, the sun kissing the city of New York with its warm touch made you think about a nice catch up with you a friend or two in Central Park. You called Wanda first, knowing just how much she loved getting a latte and some fresh air but your call went to voice mail, maybe she was on a mission you thought. 

Next you tried your roommate, Kate but no answer then you tried your luck with Peter. 

“Hey, Y/n, what’s up?” The young adult happily asked. 

“I just wanted to know if you were busy? Thought we could grab a smoothie and hang out?” You replied. 

“Wait, when did you get back? I thought you were still on that big job?”

“Uh, last night. I didn’t want to wake you or Kate, so I was pretty quiet” you lightly chuckled. 

“Welcome back! I would hang out today but Tony’s got me doing training in this new suit he made me, can we do a rain check?” He questioned with doubt in his voice. 

“Of course, let me know whenever you’re free” you did your best to sound unbothered before Peter said he’d text you before hanging up the line. You let out a light sigh before you checked the Avengers app that Tony created to keep up with who was on missions and to no surprise, Natasha was on a mission, Bucky was on a mission, Steve was with Bucky, Sam was booked for training, Tony was with Peter and Kate was with Clint on someday training trip. With that information, you tossed your phone on your freshly made bed and decided to go to the gym for an hour or so. 

As the days went by, you couldn’t help the negative thoughts that dawned on you. Almost everybody had returned from their missions and were staying at the compound to catch up on mission reports. You joined them all at the compound but the quietness that you woke up too days before still lingered. You wondered if you were annoying those around you, your text messages went unread, or you only got short replies back. Plans to catch up went abandoned leaving you alone while your insecurities dawned on you. 

A week has floated by you while you did your best to keep yourself distracted from the loneliness that crept into the apartment, your roommates barely coming home for more than a nights sleep. The apartment still quiet over your favorite playlist that played in the background, nothing on the streaming apps seemed interesting enough to keep the silence from becoming louder at night. Rubbish from your favorite almost overflowing the bin in the kitchen reminding you to take it out in the morning. 

You were getting yourself ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door, you couldn’t help but sigh lightly thinking it was probably the elderly neighbor with some gossip of yet another delinquent hanging around, suspiciously. You opened the door only to be met with the familiar green eyes and locks of red hair that you had missed dearly. 

“Y/n! you’re back?!” Beamed Natasha as her eyes lit up, “nobody told me you were back, and I lost my freaking phone” she adds. 

You give her a weak smile, knowing she probably wasn’t even here to see you in the first place. “I guess everybody has been busy, are you here to see Kate or Peter?” You asked causing Nat to frown slightly. “I needed to speak to Kate about something, but I don’t care about that, it can wait” she replied, giving you a soft smile, “my detka is home” she added. 

The pet name getting the better of you as you felt your cheeks get warm. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and gently pulled you in for a hug, “I missed you so much” she said in an almost whisper. You felt yourself practically melt into her hold, missing the way her arms always felt like home. Her dark rose scented perfume leaving its mark on your clothing, a smell you forgot just how much you missed. 

“Why don’t you come stay at mine tonight?” Your girlfriend asked, pulling back to look you in the eyes ones more. Her highly trained skills to read people never failed her when it came to you, she saw past the weak smile and the sadness in your eyes no matter how much you thought you were good at hiding. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a burden” you confessed to the widow. 

“A burden? Honey, you could never be a burden. Besides we both know I have the best fluff blankets” She says, gently cupping your face before planting a soft kiss on your lips, “and maybe you can tell me what’s got my little Spidey so down” she adds. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle ever so lightly at the nickname, “are you sure?” You asked, needing reassurance. 

“Detka, if you think I’m leaving you alone, think again” she smirks.

“Let me go pack my overnight bag, come in” you smile softly as she walks in, closing the door behind her. 

“Why don’t you pack a little more than just one bag?” The widow suggested. 

You stopped in your tracks halfway down the hall, turning to face her once more, “Nat, I can’t just leave without telling Peter and Kate” you reply, “Rent is due next week, it wouldn’t be fair” 

Natasha shrugged, “I’ll cover it and I think they would understand but if you’re not ready for that step it’s okay, I can wait” 

You took a moment to think about her idea, you wanted nothing more to be able to spend more time with your girlfriend, especially after being away from her for so long but the guilt of leaving your roommates so suddenly dawned on you. “I would love too but I really, really don’t want to be a burden on you just because I’ve had a few lousy days” 

Natasha, walking towards you reached out to hold your hand, “it’s not a burden to spend your life with somebody you care about. Change can be scary, but we all need it. Peter and Kate can find another roommate if they want, they’ll be okay. I really just want to share everything moment with you” she says, looking into your eyes while silence filled the room for you to think a little more. 

“I guess I could talk to Kate and Peter tomorrow” 

“That’s my little Spidey” Natasha smiles, “now you’ll be able to hear me complain about my cooking every night” she adds with a playful wink causing you to chuckle once more. 

“Don’t worry Romanoff, I won’t let you burn the house down” you reply as she wraps her arms around you once more, “oh come on, the kitchen caught on fire once” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“Once is more than enough” you smile before her lips find yours again.

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[5eraphim]

Okay so this has been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to stop bein scared and ask you to write about it lol

So as a DBD player, I got to thinking that it would be kinda cool if survivors could fight the killer even if it was just once per round and then this scenario popped into my head.

How would Killer react to Survivor!Reader biting them as a defense/distraction/etc? My favs are The Shape, The Executioner, and The Mastermind! Headcannons would be amazing but if you could maybe branch out to make one a one-shot kinda deal? Maybe NSFW if you feel spicy?

P.S your writing and fics LITERALLY give me life YOU’RE SO GOOD 😭����

My deepest apologies for how long this has been rotting in my inbox, I thought this prompt was a lot of fun, and again, I'm sorry it took forever for me to get around to answering this. Hope you enjoy all the same!

Characters: Michael Meyers, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head (Dead By Daylight)

Rating: R (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!!)

Content Warnings: Yandere, smut, noncon, stalking, choking, violence, sacrificed to the entity, predator/prey dynamics, obsession, sadism and masochism, reader is kept gender neutral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

The Shape

It's almost too predictable for a killer like Michael Myers to wind up in a situation like this. As the survivor he brought with him into the entity's realm made physical payback, her signature, Micheal can't help but attract the "feisty" type.

A man hiding behind a mask, Michael competes with fierce determination and an almost primal compulsion to hunt, stalk, and slaughter like no other. Of the three, Myers would be the most likely to anticipate physical retribution from a survivor, according to him, all part of the hunt. 

Myers prefers to remain hidden by shadows as long as possible, awaiting his perfect opportunity to go in for a decisive kill. But remaining hidden in the dark is a luxury you don't have at your disposal on account of being Myer's obsession.

You didn't want it to come to this. Even before the match started, you prayed to fight any killer, but Myers, your disappointment only grew as you realized minutes later that you were his obsession.

The idea of fighting back physically was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you knew you only had one chance of pulling this off, and if you missed, your fate would be sealed. You usually weren't one to opt for such a risky strategy, but you were too blinded by your fear of Myers. You would do anything to get away.

Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel Myers' eyes locked in on you, no doubt following and trailing you from behind. The paranoia was torture, but you forced yourself to stay strong and ignore Myers, to focus solely on supporting your team. 

When Myers inevitably tracked you down and caught you after getting distracted by something else, you had so much pent-up nervous aggression that you couldn't hold back your body's instinct to fight back.

Fear overtook any lingering traces of rationality as you struggled blindly against Myers, but you had just enough determination reserved to take aim and fire a single punch, aiming for his head, landing against the cheek of the mask; it was just enough to disorient him long enough for you to wriggle free.

Despite the offense, Myers didn't think you had it in you to fight back like that. It excited him! As though you were holding back on him before, and now you were starting to fight back like you really meant it!

After enduring the pressure of being his obsession and succumbing to the fear of it all, you little humanity left to hold onto, almost nothing but your primal fight or flight instincts; it was truly a beautiful sight for him to behold.

The next time he cornered you, Myers decided he ought to follow your lead, only instead of going for your head, he would go for your throat, not with the knife, but with his hand.

And for just a moment, he'd keep you there. Only needing one hand around your throat to keep your entire body pinned into place on the wall behind you. Wood planks made contact with your back at odd angles, the dull pain radiating up and down your spine as you were face to face with Myers, close enough to hear his breathing behind the mask while he observed your face- knowing you believed he was seconds away from slitting your throat. 

Likely, as Myers holds you in such a compromising position, he takes out all his own pent-up frustrations on you. Leaving bitemarks all over your neck and shoulders while he quickly shreds the clothes from your body.

Just as you gave into primal fight-or-flight instincts, he was giving into his own primal urges. He'd won the hunt, and now it was time to let his libido take charge. Half-undressed, he ruts against you, and you can hear his heartbeat racing. Maybe even feel his body warming as his blood flows rapidly, but he remains as silent as a corpse.

After having his fun, Myers will take great pleasure in sacrificing you to the entity. Even if he couldn't take down everyone on your team before this, the opportunity to sacrifice his obsession in such a thrilling bloodbath overshadowed any regular trial as a ruthless killer. 

The Mastermind

It wouldn't take more than an instance of fighting back physically against him for Wesker to decide to hunt you down right away. He would've never suspected another survivor would be bold enough to try something like this on him. Wesker wants to know what makes you think you're strong enough to try something like this.

His reaction would be determined primarily by what point in the trial you try this.

Albert might think it's insufficient enough to ignore if it's early or if he's doing well.

But given how infamous of a hothead he can be, more often than not, any time you try this, expect to be met with hostility.

Wants to see you go from physically resistant to begging him for mercy. On the outside, he pretends to see brats like you as nothing but a petty annoyance to be dealt with, but on the inside, he absolutely loves doing this; keeping the weak in check is how he stays strong.

Wesker doesn't exactly get any legitimate pleasure from being hurt, but he will tap into the pain when fighting back. He does this partly out of loyalty and obligation to the entity but equally out of a petty vengeance to hurt you back twice as hard as you hurt him.

Wesker waits patiently before fighting back, taking care of those annoying teammates first to give you his undivided attention. As well as strategically lying in wait after the confrontation before striking while your guard is down. 

The very first thing Wesker does after tracking you down is wounding you exactly where you hurt him, though he's sure not to let you go until he's drawn blood.

Don't expect him to show you any mercy from here. Might go as far as pushing you down, wiping his shoes against your back as you writhe below, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

It's good foreplay for him, seeing the foolish survivor who dared to fight back, bleeding and barely alive. He won't fuck you in the muck for his own sake, of course. Wesker will push you up against a wall face first while he is taking you from behind.

If he's feeling especially good after sweeping a trial, he might leave you with just enough life to hold onto while you crawl to the hatch. More likely, you won't live long after such a brutal session. But even if you don't die, Wesker will be sure to leave you so beaten and tormented you'll regret trying to fight him like that and won't want to try again. Even if Wesker secretly hopes you will.

The Executioner

While the others welcome the resistance, even if only to crush it, Pyramid Head would likely resent you for trying to physically challenge the killer and disrupt the natural order of things. It was an injustice, and it was imperative to punish you for this.

Imagine playing as a "Gen-Jockey" survivor, the kind of teammate who provides the bare minimum to the rest of the team, putting your own survival above the lives of your teammates, the type of survivor Pyramid Head hated the most. A coward.

All that to say, it was an extreme shock after he cornered you and felt your teeth sinking into the exposed flesh above his glove. 

While you were combative and aggressive now, Pyramid Head knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You were, to him, nothing but a coward deep down. Even if you wanted to pretend like you had any real fight of your own, it wouldn't be long before you surrendered to your own exhaustion. Perhaps he was even doing this as his way of offering you a "fair shot" to find your way out before he got his hands on you. Like he would ever let that happen.

Since you tried to bite him earlier, he'd punish you by fucking you from behind, bent over a broken desk crushing your face against the hardwood surface. He was an inescapable force while you were powerless to stop any of this from below.

Would only give into his beastial nature to hurt and fuck you if he's already managed to kill the rest of your team. It's not his style to slaughter his obsession until he's taken care of the others, and he doesn't want to let anyone pass by without judgment.

If he doesn't get this opportunity during the trial, Pyramid Head will fantasize about killing you off last while staying buried inside you, feeling your pathetic body crumbling and going limp beneath him.

Paradoxical feelings of sadism and protectiveness for you as Pyramid Head is obsessed with being the only one alloweed to hurt you, judge your soul, or torture you. But all this cruelty is undermined by his motivation to keep you from getting hurt by others.

He is most likely to let you live after making love because the instant gratification of an orgasm, as well as the satisfaction of punishing you himself, will keep him from sending you up to the entity. 

Consider this Pyramid Head's very niche kind of post-nut clarity.

[euaphora]

omg could u please do freaky nerdy megumi? like u guys r study buddies in college n he’s always had a crush on you but he’s been to shy to say anything until you ask him out then you find out he a lil freaky n not the “cute innocent” guy he thought he was when u guys in bed, you could also add ur magic! please and thank you 🙏🏾😽

remember when I was your women crush, he said yeah!

✎ᝰ subby!needy!bf!Megumi x reader

Study sessions with him were always a blast because when you would get distracted, he would always remind you to focus and talk about your grade in that class.

It was never in a mean way but in a way were you felt comfortable telling him what you struggled with so when you had texted him to come over to help you, how could he say no?

He had panned on making up an excuse again, “sorry my friends want to hang out,” or would straight up tell you he had something going on. Of course he did, he had been pumping his fist to a picture he took of you in wide ultra on his iphone, you didn’t think much of it is you let him take pictures.

The picture had you take up the whole screen, cleavage showing everything beneath your shirt, almost getting dressed coded from showing your strap. You had your lips in a pouty form, looking up at the camera while your brows were furrowed, imagining he was taking you from the back.

Soon as he was about to cum, his phone starts vibrating—making him sign while he takes the call—cock still in his hand while he tries to cam down his breathing.

“Gumi! Are you coming or not, I’ve been waiting forever!?” You harshly put out, making his cock twitch in his hand just by the way you were putting him in his place. “Y-yup, coming so so soon!”

You had placed the popcorn brown on the floor along with your other notebooks and laptop, feeling anxious you called megumi with an already irritated attitude and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?” He says on the other line, sounding like he just ran a mile, very weird. You explained to him to hurry up and finish, hearing a approvals hum coming out of him, saying he’ll be here soon.

“Hurry up then, I can’t keep waiting-”

A whimper accidentally falls from his lips, making your body stiffen by the way he sounded, feeling yourself get wet already.

“megumi…”

“please tell me you didn’t hear that, please.”

“I wouldn’t want to be lying to you, now come over.” You demand, hanging up. A couple minutes later you hear a knock on the door, quickly running towards it while you set your phone down on the counter, peeping through the small whole you to see him looking down, nervous as ever.

“Come in.”

He enters your small apartment your parents had boughten you so they wouldn’t have to be constant helping you pay for your dorm. Before he could even explain himself you pull his in by the back of his head and crash your lisp into his, he feels his hard bulge coming back, making you feel it around your lower parts, height difference between you two.

You smile into the kiss but try and pull away, making him a little upset just to pull you back into the kiss, giving you a passionate one. He pulls back this time, “I could explain..”.

“Explain what? That you got off to someone when you were suppose to be studying with me?” You ask, remembering he had picked up the phone with lewd sounds coming from the other side.

“It was you, I had been getting myself off to..you, I just didn’t know how to tell you ‘cause I don’t want you to think bad of me, y/n.” He explains, giving little goosebumps to his answer.

“Oh.” You whisper, almost nothing coming out from how quiet you had said it. “Do you need help?” You mention your hand to his hard on, making you giggle a little. He looks down at it then up at you, giving you pleading eyes, “please..” he groans.

You pull him by his hand, walking towards the couch while he follows behind you, “sit down.” He didn’t have to be told twice, he places his body on the couch, getting nervous on how this was going to go down.

“Don’t be nervous, baby.” You coo, already on your knees with your hands wrapped around gis cock, pumping out the pre-cum from the tip as you give him a big smile.

He can’t help but watch you tease him, “c’mon, don’t be like that with me,please!” He moans out, showing how vocal he can be in bed, making your head go crazy.

Wrapping your lips around his tip, you use your hands to massage and lightly squeeze his balls while he pushes his head back from the pleasure. “God! Use me, do whatever you want.. just ‘wanna cum in your mouth.”

Fitting his entire dick inside your mouth, he looked down at your current state, mascara running, brows furrowed and tears slipping from your eyes, making him cum on the spot.

“Yes, oh my god!”

You look up at him and see him whine out after all that he came, you make a pop sound when you remove your round lips away from his now soft and light red colored cock, “Did that feel good, baby?”

“Felt amazing, holy shit..!”

His ropes of cum fell all over your upper body- breasts, face, hair- picking some up with your fingers.

“Sorry, let me get a towel.” you giggle, watching his legs shake while he gets up.

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

❥ college/uni au - teaching assistant Geto Suguru x Reader

ft: philosophy Geto, mutual crush, office hrs // wc: 2k // [ao3]

Your TA was absurdly hot. It really shouldn’t be allowed.

You were embarrassingly down bad for Geto Suguru. Bad enough that you were pretending to be fascinated by philosophy, sitting at the front of the room for his study sessions as if you were a model student and not soaked just from the way his arm flexed as he wrote on the chalkboard.

He had apologized for his hoarse voice as he began today’s session, blaming seasonal allergies. Suguru was muffled in a fuzzy sweater, strong hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. You wished they were wrapped around you instead, holding you close, or holding you open…

“Everything okay?”

You flinched and snapped out of your daydream, blushing to the tips of your ears. “I-I’m sorry, I got distracted…”

He smiled reassuringly at you, achingly pretty with the wink of a dimple on his right cheek. “No problem, just checking!”

He paced around the room, answering questions and reading over essay drafts as he sipped his tea.

He leaned innocently over your shoulder to critique a few lines of your writing. The man smelled like vanilla and parchment, and a few strands of his soft hair brushed your cheek where they’d escaped from his bun.

Your stomach flipped, your blush back with a vengeance. You absorbed exactly none of what he was saying, but nodded anyway. “Of course, that makes sense.”

He stayed bent behind you for a few more seconds, enough for you to wonder if it was intentional and if your hair smelled nice too, and if he could stay there forever- “Okay great. Keep it up!”

He turned to address the whole room. “Great work today, everyone! I know you’ll be ready for the final on Friday. If you need anything, my office hours are tomorrow from four to six.”

———————

Your heart raced as you knocked. What were you doing? This was such a stupid idea, he’d never-

The office door swung open, and Geto stood blinking at you, his tired eyes framed by dark shadows. He was pale, a thick scarf now draped over the fluffy sweater. “Here for office hours, yeah?” His rasp had devolved into a croak.

“If you’re not feeling well, I can come back another time!”

He shook his head, waving you inside. “It's not contagious, just allergies kicking my ass…and finals aren’t going anywhere.”

You followed him into his office, taking in the sea of abandoned mugs and teetering stacks of books and papers. You steeled yourself to follow the plan, and pulled a thermos of soup out of your bag.

“This is for you.” You held out the thermos awkwardly. “Since you’re sick. It’s soup.”

He took the thermos you were brandishing, eyes crinkling over the edge of the scarf. “You got me soup?”

“Made you soup,” you clarified, rocking a little on your heels. “It’s just chicken noodle, something I always had when I was sick as a kid- it’s basically a cure-all.”

“You’re very kind.” He shook his head. “But if this is an attempt at a grading bribe, you know I can’t accept.”

Unable to read his expression from behind the scarf, you reassured him a little frantically, “Of course not! I didn’t even think of that. I just thought it might help you feel better…” You trailed off, realizing that your TA was laughing, his broad shoulders shaking.

“I’m kidding. But really, this is too kind.” He tilted his head, loosening the scarf a little to flash a grin. “Did you just come bearing soup, or are there philosophy questions to go with it?”

You shook your head, trying to recover from dazzle of his perfect smile. “Ah, not exactly…but I can think of some!”

Geto laughed again, and you wanted to listen to it forever. “Don’t worry, my brain is a bit stuffy at the moment anyways. Just makes your gesture all the more selfless.” He leaned forward with a soft smile. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Anything to stay a little longer, you didn't say.

He was so graceful. Watching him make tea is like watching a dancer, or a master calligrapher- an act delicate and perfected. It didn't help that his long fingers curled around the mug so easily, his body heat still warming the ceramic when he passed it to you.

It tasted floral, a hint of smoke at the back of your throat. “Mmm, this is amazing.”

Geto stretched casually, pulling his scarf off fully to sip his own brew. "I'm glad." A quiet fell between the two of you, not altogether uncomfortable.

You wanted to say something brilliant, ask some profound question that would make him think of you as a kindred intellectual, and hopefully sexy to boot. What you came up with was, "Why philosophy?"

A faraway look settled on his face as he looked down, lost in thought. You hadn't expected him to take you so seriously. "I...used to have a lot of questions. Still do, but- I had more when I was younger, let's say." He was barely older than you, but you didn't dare laugh as he described himself that way. There was a weight on his shoulders as he spoke, drawn into himself.

"I've never been satisfied with the answers that I was given by authorities, or the structures that they operate in. How can you hope to change a system if you refuse to interrogate it, or to fix something without admitting it's broken?" His gentle voice had taken on a steely edge, eyes narrowed as he stared at the carpet. "I wanted to think for myself, to teach others to think for themselves- keep them from being taken advantage of."

He glanced up at you, quickly softened back into the charming TA you knew. "At least I hope that's what I'm doing now. That's 'why philosophy', I suppose." He leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees with a disarming smile.

You squirmed under his attention, suddenly embarrassed by how distracted you were during his study sessions. But you had been motivated to try harder, had spent a record number of hours in the library this semester. Concepts that put you to sleep when laboriously explained by the ancient professor came to life on Suguru's lips, and not just because you couldn't help staring at them, imagining how soft they'd be against yours...

"Everything okay?" It was becoming a frequent question with you, he noted to himself.

"Yes, of course," you said shakily. He wasn't convinced, became steadily less so as he crossed the room to you, leaning down with a hand on the couch behind your head.

"Are you sure? You're looking a bit flushed." He was being nice, was just showing concern for a student...and was far too close to your face. Deep brown, nearly violet eyes lingered too long on the way you bit your lip, struggling to regain composure.

"I'm fine. Just- moved by your answer, that's all." This time his answering smile wasn't just solicitous, it was hungry. He moved closer, enough that you could feel his warm breath on your cheek.

"That means a lot to me, you know. To have such a...passionate student."

You couldn't breathe. Had to be dreaming, couldn't possibly be feeling his warm palm on your cheek, his thumb hovering over your parted lips. You reached out, tried to pull him closer, but he smoothly laced his fingers with yours and pinned your hand beside your head.

"Office hours are almost over," he murmured into your neck, lips ghosting over your thrumming pulse. "Do you have any burning questions for me?" You felt his smirk against your skin, felt a brief flash of shame that he had seen through you so easily, could tell how badly you wanted him- but quickly forgot it in the heat of his body against yours.

A sigh fell from your mouth instead of the witty comeback you hoped for, and he laughed. This close, it felt like thunder in the hollow of your chest. With great effort, you caught your breath enough to whisper, "What do you taste like?"

"Hm?"

"That's my burning question. What do you-"

He cut you off with a searing kiss, slipped his tongue into your mouth to make sure you had your answer. He tasted like the tea, of course, but also cinnamon, and something sharp and harsh that sent sparks down your spine.

His hands were everywhere, roaming across your ribs, lifting your chin, pulling your body closer in a helpless gravity. Geto broke away with a gasp, his forehead pressed against yours. "I shouldn't be doing this, fuck, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-"

Your eyes met. "I know what I was thinking," you protested softly. "I know what I've been thinking since the moment I first saw you. After all," you mustered all your courage to run a hand through his hair, "you're in the year above me, aren't you? A teaching assistant, not the professor-"

He grinned, nudged his nose against your cheek. "Don't act like you don't enjoy being my student. I've seen you too, starry-eyed in the front row of my review sessions..." He was high off your embarrassed little protests, pushed his advantage.

“I thought about you so many times- imagined having you under the podium on your knees, sucking me off while I lectured…” You whimpered, clung to him as he whispered filth. “Bouncing in my lap while I graded papers..." He lightly kissed the corner of your mouth, achingly close to where you wanted him.

"You have no idea how hard it was to focus on my damn lessons with you right there in front of me. And then," he huffed a laugh. "and then here you are, coming to my office hours with homemade soup and looking so goddamn beautiful..."

"Suguru, kiss me again. Please, kiss me-"

Suguru kissed you. He kissed you like he was drowning, like you were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, awed and demanding in the same shared breath. He laid you down on the couch, caged you in with his strong body. His silky hair fell across your cheek, framed his sharp features like an inky halo.

His fingers trailed down your neck, to the buttons on your blouse- and a clock began to chime in the recesses of his office. He sat up with a curse. "I have a 6:30 class, I'm so sorry-" he flurried around his office, throwing papers and books into his backpack. "Damn it, my scarf-" You reached for it on the back of the couch and held it out to him with a shy smile.

"You're an angel, thank you." You glowed at the praise, though he was too preoccupied to notice. Geto shrugged into his jacket, tossed back the dregs of his cold tea, and smoothed his hair back into a neat bun. He was halfway to the door when he turned back to you with a crooked smile on his face.

"Can we...continue this another time? Please. I'd really like to."

You nodded, stood up to follow him out, heart still racing at everything that had just happened. "Your next office hours?"

He laughed and waved you ahead, holding the door. "I think I could find the time for some one-on-one tutoring." He locked his office, and you stood facing each other outside it for an awkward moment.

"Well." He looked down the hallway, then back at you. All you could think was that he looked like a painting, a sculpture- Suguru was somehow a work of art under the dingy fluorescent lights. He debated hugging you goodbye, shaking your hand, kissing you senseless, and settled on a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck on that exam." He was halfway gone already, long legs carrying him out of sight when he turned back with a wave and called, "and thank you for the soup!"

[headkiss]

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

༄

You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“‘S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

-

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

-

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

-

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

-

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

-

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

-

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

-

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

-

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It���s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

-

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

-

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

-

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

-

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

[f1goat]

the race winner x lando norris + part 2

in which you see your ex best friend again after he cut of contact between you two.

not proof read - PART ONE

sunday evening

“It’s insane how much I’ve missed you,” Lando tells you for the millionth time. Since he has ben cleared from the medical center, he has been by your side. He skipped all the media duties, just to be with you. You told him multiple times that you could wait, but he didn’t let you wait. It took him only a few minutes to get you inside of his rental car to get to his hotel together. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you tell Lando again. 

Lando smiles at you. You know he still needs to explain everything, but you are just glad that he’s back at your side. Together you’re sitting in his hotel room. Lando pulls you a bit closer to himself, draping his arm around your shoulders. You enjoy his movement but you know that you still need to talk to him before you can fully close this weird chapter. 

After Lando told you he needed space from you, you were heartbroken. The first days you didn’t come out of bed. You were a complete mess. You tried contacting him for an explanation, but you were quick to find out that Lando blocked you on everything. Max helped you a lot, he kept telling you that there was probably a logical reason behind it. But you didn’t knew. You doubted yourself. It didn’t help that you are also in love with Lando. You have been forever. You even thought that he maybe found out and that that was the reason. But Max made sure you dropped that thought. 

Now while finally sitting next to Lando again, you can’t help yourself and feel a few tears roll over your cheeks. It’s insane. You thought things would always be unsolved. Now you know where it came from. It wasn’t your fault. 

“Come here,” Lando tells you softly. He pulls you even closer to himself. You let your body fall against Lando. You lean on his chest while he swipes away a couple of your tears. It’s no use, new ones are forming quickly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lando says, “so so so sorry.” You hear his voice crack a bit. When you look up at him, you notice that Lando is crying as well. The sight of him this sad, makes you cry even harder. You can’t stop yourself from sobbing loudly. Tears are streaming down your cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer towards him. He hugs you tightly. You barely hear him, but you swear that he’s still apologizing. “So sorry,” you hear him muttering. 

“Why me?” You doubt if Lando hears you correctly. When you want to repeat your question, Lando is already looking up at you. You conclude that he did hear you, but he needs some time for his answer. You know you’ve asked Lando the same question before, but this time you won’t walk away without an answer. 

Lando sobs a bit as well. He tries to make something clear, but the words are coming out as nothings. You wait for him to relax. Slowly you caress his back. 

“It was Zak,” Lando then tells you. “But I shouldn’t have listened to him. I never listened, but that day.. It was so fucking bad.” 

You wait for Lando to continue. 

“Zak always tells me I’m not focused enough,” Lando explains. He talks a bit slower to help himself with the control over his own voice. “He thought it was you,” Lando continues. “He always talked about you being a distraction, but I didn’t do anything about it.” 

You don’t understand Zak. Why would you be more of a distraction then his other friends? 

“I always told him you were not,” Lando tells you, “but he didn’t really believe me. I guess he has his reasons, since he had some valid points sometimes. But still. He told me to cut ties with you for a while, so I could regain my focus on racing.” 

“Valid points?” You ask surprised.

“Every weekend you weren’t around..” Lando starts doubtingly, he wants to explain himself as good as he can but he isn’t sure if he wants to confess his feelings to you. Yet. He just got you back, what if he will lose you again when he tells you? “Uh, I was in a really bad mood,” he continues, “and I was always busy with planning time with you. Texting you, thinking about when I saw you again or FaceTiming.” 

“Oh.. I didn’t realize that,” you respond, “I never noticed..” 

“It’s not your fault. I did all that,” Lando quickly speaks up. 

“Maybe we can work on it?” You suggest. 

“Yeah, we will see,” Lando shrugs, “I want as much contact with you as possible.” 

“But why did you cut all contact?” You ask further, “What happened that day?”

Lando stays quiet for a bit. He thinks about all the possible answers. Can he tell you everything? He thinks about his own feelings that day. He was busy with the disappointing result, but he was also thinking about you all the time. Zak told him before the race and after the race that he should regain his focus or he would never win a race. The only way to regain his focus according to Zak was cutting of the contact with you. 

“It was bad,” Lando sighs. “Zak visited me before the race. He told me I could never be a race winner if I didn’t regain my focus. According to him it was all you. It wasn’t new that he said things like that, but he kept repeating himself.” Lando takes a deep breath. “Then you came to my drivers room. Zak his words were still in my head and that race was so awful. I just lost my ability to think straight. I could only think about winning a race someday.” 

He takes another short break again. 

“If I think back at it, I don’t even know what I told you anymore and how I said it. I know this isn’t a solid reason, I shouldn’t have taken Zak his words this serious, but I was so hurt after the race. I didn’t think straight.”

“Relax Lan,” you tell him, “I forgive you.” 

You don’t know when you made the decision to forgive Lando this fast, but you don’t feel any regret when you tell him those words. Lando is quick to look up at you, focusing his gaze on you. You feel the well known fluttering in your stomach when he looks at you like that. Fuck. Maybe you should talk to him about that as well? 

“Are you serious?” Lando asks you. 

You nod. You open up your arms again to hug him. 

“As if I can life without you any longer,” you tell him. It’s a bit jokingly, but you’re also honest. Last months were a mess, you can’t function properly without Lando. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Lando tells you after a while.

“To bed?” You ask him surprised, “My bed is in a different hotel.”

“Aren’t you staying?” Lando asks, “We always sleep together at race weekends.” 

You smile, “Let’s go to bed then.”

thursday - silverstone 

“So you weren’t kidding,” Zak remarks, “She’s back.” 

“And she stays,” Lando comments harshly.

“I can take her paddock pass away,” Zak goes on. 

“I can stop racing for McLaren,” Lando responds without even thinking about it.

“You can’t, you have a contract till 2025,” Zak throws back. 

“Say one more bad thing about her and you’ll find out how quick I can leave.”

“As if you would. That could mean the end of your career.”

“Zak, I swear to god don’t push me. She’s here. She will be here every race that she wants to be here and you won’t do shit about that.”

After saying those words Lando walks away from his team boss. He is quick to find you in the paddock. Before he shows you that he’s here, he takes a bit of time to look at you. It’s unfair how beautiful you look. He can’t help himself. Every time he sees you, he’s reminded of the fact he still needs to tell you about his feelings. Maybe he dares this weekend. 

“Hey baby,” he greets you while sliding an arm around your shoulders. Together you walk in the paddock. Lando is on his way to the media pannel, after missing it last week, and he will take you with him gladly. 

Everything between Lando and you is back at how it was. Sometimes when you think about it, it already feels like you’re in a relationship with each other. You share beds. He’s always giving you cute pet names, like baby or babygirl. The two of you spend all your free time together. it’s not your end goal, but you’re glad with everything you already have. 

Together the two of you walk towards the media pannel. You always enjoy watching the interviews. 

+++

“So Lando, after your crash from last week we didn’t saw you in the media pannel? Did you have to stay the night after crashing?” 

You already expected a lot of questions for Lando since he missed them last week. You’re curious about his reasons. What will he tell them? 

“No, I was cleared pretty quick,” Lando tells the interviewer, “but I had some things to do after which were more important.” 

“What things?” 

You can’t say you’re surprised by the question. 

“I just crashed, I had some realizations after. Those things I needed to do, I won’t tell you more about it.” 

“What caused your crash?” 

“I wasn’t focused,” Lando tells honestly, “So I made a mistake.” 

“We saw Y/N in the paddock this morning again after missing her for some months, what happened between you two?” 

You gasp. Since when are reporters asking questions like this? This is way too personal. You notice that Lando doesn’t even flinch because of the rude question. 

“That’s the more important thing I needed to do. I think you can ask Zak more questions about that later. Maybe we should get back to talking about the upcoming race?” Lando responds. 

“One more question for you Lando,” the same reporter speaks up, “Are you dating with Y/N? Do we have a new wag?” 

“I don’t think that’s a question about racing,” Lando jokes, “but we’re still really close, just like before.” 

You notice the way Lando doesn’t answer the question. Just like he did before. He never says that he is single or taken. He always says that he’s close with you, nothing more or less. 

saturday - silverstone

“Oh my god Lan!” You can’t help yourself and scream those words out. “That was amazing!” 

Lando pulls you close to himself. He hugs you tightly. He has never gotten quicker out of his car to run towards you. He’s more then happy with himself. Tomorrow he can start from the front row. He almost got the pole position as well. That would have been amazing as well, but still p2 is already amazing. 

Lando almost kisses you. When he looks in your eyes and sees the proud look you’re carrying he can barely stop himself from kissing you. Fuck. This is getting out of hand. He needs to tell you soon. He hides his face in your neck. 

“You did so well,” you continue, “fucking second place. That’s amazing.” 

Lando smiles at your words. He missed this. He missed you. The best part of getting out of the car is always having you there for him. If the race went bad, you always try to comfort him and if it went well you’re here to celebrate with him. 

“I’m so proud of you.”

+++

“Congratulations Lando!” The presentator greets him enthusiastic, “That’s an amazing result. How did you experience it?” 

“The car was flying,” Lando exclaims happily, “Everything went well. I hope we can keep this up tomorrow and finish somewhere on the podium.” 

“So you found back your focus after last week?”

“Yeah,” Lando confesses with a small smile, “I’m fully focused on getting the best results.” 

“What changed with last week? Are it the upgrades on the car?”

“Of course we did some major upgrades which really pays off,” Lando says, “but it’s also my own mentality.”

“And what upgrades did that get?” 

“My good luck charm got back.” 

sunday - silverstone

“So when are you telling her?” 

“Telling her what?”

“Don’t act stupid Lando,” Max says, “We both know I’m asking you when you’re going to confess your feelings.” 

Lando sighs. “I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want to cause other drama between us. I just got her back.”

“I don’t think it will end that badly,” Max reacts, “Just tell her mate, I think you’ll be relieved by the end of it.” 

+++

The race is getting close to ending. Your heart is beating faster then ever before in your chest. Lando is trying to hold back Lewis Hamilton. Lando his tires are worser. You can only hope for the best. Every move they make you’re gasping. You’re watching from the McLaren garage, you keep on hoping that you will move to the podium in a few laps. You can’t wait to see Lando on the podium again. 

“I think we need to talk.”

You almost jump up when you hear those words. You don’t have to look up to know who’s talking to you, but you still do. Of course it’s Zak himself. 

“I think so too.”

You decide to keep yourself together. You don’t have to scream at Zak for everything he ruined. You just need to stay calm. 

“You’re a distraction for him,” Zak tells you. 

You watch how Lewis almost passes Lando. It’s a close one. Lando barely stays in front of him. 

“I don’t want you holding him back. I can’t imagine that you’ll want that yourself? Lando is world champion material, but he can’t have distractions around him. He needs to focus on racing,” Zak continues. 

You don’t look away from the screen. Lewis is making himself ready to try again. Fuck. You’re praying for Lando to stay in front of him. 

“So, what do we need to do to make sure you won’t distract him anymore?” Zak asks you.

“Are you asking me how much money you need to give me for leaving Lando alone?” You ask back. You don’t know if you understood, but according to you it seemed like that was what the man asked you. 

“Yes. Or do you want anything else?” 

“I want you to fuck off.” 

“Oh come on, everyone can be bought.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Who does this man think he is? 

“Listen Zak, I’m not leaving. This trick isn’t working. I’m here for Lando and when he will chose a team that will build him an actual car from day one, I’ll be there for him. If he choses to keep driving for you for the rest of his life, I’ll be here too. I love him.”

“You distract him.”

“Please stop whining in my ear,” Lando’s radio message is coming in quite loudly. “Can’t you get y/n in here?”

“You want y/n?” His engineer asks. 

“Yeah. I need to focus. Let her talk to me.” 

You laugh right in front of Zak his face while walking towards to board radio. “Such a distraction,” you tell Zak, “but who does he need to focus? Oh me, the distraction.” 

“Y/n,” Lando his voice is even harder now you’re wearing the headphones. 

“Hi Lan,” you react, “What do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t care. Please just talk to me.” 

“I think you can hold him off,” you tell Lando. 

“You think I can hold off a seven time world champion with these tires? Did you notice he’s on softs?” Lando asks you sarcastic. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Didn’t I?”

You hear Lando laugh in your ear. 

“Come on Lan, just keep fighting. You’re doing great! He can’t push all the way to the finish like this. Just focus.” 

“You think I can do this?”

“I know you can.”

You fall silent for a bit while watching Lando block Lewis again. You don’t want to distract him, but you don’t know what to do. What does he want? Do you need to keep talking? 

“Keep talking,” Lando begs you. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “I can gossip for a bit. You know this girl from my work, yeah? She and that terrible boyfriend finally broke up!” 

You keep on talking about silly things that happened to you and your surroundings for a bit. Lando keeps fighting Lewis and he is still driving in front of him. 

“I think he’s given up Lan, he doesn’t have DRS anymore.”

“Let’s go out for dinner after the race,” Lando says after a while. He’s almost done. Two more laps to go. 

“I think you’ll be busy with celebrating your podium,” you react grinning. 

“We’re going out for dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply this time.

“It’s a date.”

A date? What did just happen?

+++

Lando can’t describe everything he’s feeling at the moment. He notices Max standing close to him while he’s still sitting in the McLaren. He can’t believe it actually happened. He finally got a podium this season. It feels insane. First he got you back and now a podium. Finally everything feels right again. He gets out of his car. His only thoughts are going to you. The way you helped him with talking about nonsense over his radio. He never felt this focused before. He fought off Hamilton. That’s amazing. And it’s even more amazing because of the tire disadvantage he had. He walks - or better say runs - towards his team, but he searches for you. Are you also here? Different team members pat his back, his helmet and everything else. 

Then he spots you. 

Lando walks away from his team members after telling him multiple thanks again. He smiles. Quickly he pulls off his helmet. In the mean time he walks closer to you. 

You. The one who’s wearing a piece of his newest merchandise, even though you find the color hideous. He feels proud. He can’t stop thinking about the way you helped him and the way you’re looking at him right now. It feels amazing. 

Before Lando knows it, he’s standing in front of you. 

“I’m so proud of you!” 

The words mean everything to him. He wants to say thanks, but somehow his words get twisted up inside his brain and on his tongue. 

“I love you.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? 

Before he can progress what he just did and how he ruined everything again, you’re talking to him. 

“Then kiss me.”

Lando has never put his lips faster on someone then now. He pulls you as close as himself as he can manage. Stupid fences in between. Your soft lips are bringing him in some sort of trance. How can everything feel so right with you? He has kissed people before, but it was never like this. This is something else. Something completely new. This is how it must feel when you kiss someone you actually love. 

When you pull back Lando his trance ends slowly. He’s still processing everything that just happened. Did you actually tell him to kiss you? What if he heard wrong. He’s almost about to apologize, but you’re speaking again. 

“I love you too by the way,” you tell him with a small smile plastered on your face.

Lando lets out a relieved sigh. 

This is the best day ever.

“But I think you need to get your trophy now,” you tell him with the same cute smile. 

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He turns around to go on with everything that comes with a podium. He turns back one more time and looks at you. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

You show him another smile and blow him a kiss. 

Best day ever, he thinks again.

[kthecutest]

can u write ways that &team members being (kinda overly) protective of their s/o? thanks!!

✧˚ &team members being overprotective of you ༊*·˚

Pairing ➳ &Team members x gn!reader Genre ➳ Fluff ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ A/N ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Brain block wasn't wearing off for so long (╥ᆺ╥；)and this came out way longer than I thought cuz I got carried away; as usual ( ≖‿ ≖ ). Anyways hope you'll enjoy it!

✧•——————•°•✧•°•——————•✧

K : It’s been almost forever, catching up to the latest updates with your old highschool classmate. The hot coffee in your hand already loosing its initial heat, you were completely distracted in the chaotic chatter, and had forgotten that you two weren’t the only ones there. A set of dull piercing eyes were set tightly on your distracted figure and it wasn’t long before you felt an aggressive grasp on your snatched waist, turning to the side to check the situation in a surprised state. “Ah? Seems like you guys have a lot to discuss on… hopefully I weren’t much of an interruption.. right honey..~?” a soft tone spoken, anger and possessiveness dripping straight through each letter. Just that alone was enough to send out a warning to you; he’s jealous. The morning coffee cup in his hand is now being squeezed tight to the point the liquid was starting to seep out the lid. “oh babe um.. you’re done getting the coffee? Sorry I’m afraid I must take my leave now, Nicho” you quickly answered him while excusing yourself from your conversation mate trying to make best of the situation. Nicholas, your chatmate caught up to the situation fast, giving you a nod as a goodbye as he watched you both walked away with a slight stinging stare in his narrowed eyes, almost summoning invisible daggers at K’s direction.

Thankfully, you succeeded in separating you and K from Nicho but your sigh of relief was shortly interrupted by a loud thud as you were pinned to the wall of the alleyway, a tall strong figure towering above you.

“So.. finally done running that mouth honey~?”

Fuma : The radient purple and blue dwelled on the sky canvas as nighttime falls. You were pretty bored but was also filled with a spring of energy hence why you dragged your boyfriend, Fuma all the way to the night bar with you. The original plan was to simply hang out on your seats alone with glasses of red wine in each hand and sharing kisses but it was all rudely interrupted when a sudden ‘hello’ popped out from behind you. “Ah! Euijoo..? Long time no see!” You instantly got up from your seat giving him a warm hug which he quickly reciprocated, earning a slight glare from the man beside you two. “Didn’t knew you would show up in a place like this”, you teased the young boy in front of you. Euijoo always had a pure innocent look to him. He seemed like the type of guy who have never even held a girl’s hand let alone date one and he sure is definitely not the guy to show up at a bar. “Haha I just saw you through the glass pane so I wanted to come in and join you” Somehow this statement seemed to have only pissed your already fuming boyfriend off. He came here specifically just to see you? Hell no not on my watch. You felt a hand snaked right around your waist as you felt a figure shift closer to you. “Dear~, it’s pretty late already.. maybe we should head back what do you say?” You didn’t think much of it since Fuma wasn’t a type to be jealous anyways but you only took his words as him being caring. “Sorry Euijoo, maybe we can arrange a day where we can talk properly?” “Sure! I’ll see ya soon!” You waved goodbye to the sweet boy as Fuma dragged you out of the bar in a very unusual almost aggressive manner.

The car was steadily parked in front of the apartment block as feet and shoes clashed in the door way. Your breath was directed right at Fuma’s exposed neck as he unraveled his tie. His muscular arms trapping you in between while your back stuck to the wall.

“You’re testing my patience way too much love~”

Nicholas : You were seated cozily between the two taller boys, under a warm sky blue blanket as a horror movie played on the screen in front. The couch kept constantly swinging from the motions of your best friend K jumping and twitching at every jumpscare. “Seriously K, that was a really expected one you know” “Oh c’monnn! The face was still pretty scary though!” he defended back as he clinged onto you. “Oi you’re heavy c’mon get off” K was about to make another whiny remark when he felt the pressure of a strong hand gripping onto his. “You’re gonna end up giving her a muscle strain” a low voice followed by a chuckle arose from behind you. Still the teasing chuckle did not help on hiding the irritation in your boyfriend’s voice. The grip around K’s hand kept tightening until he finally caught up to his irritation as he let go of your shoulder, the grip weakening.

You three practically just coughed awkwardly and played it off as the movie kept advancing. It’s just been a few minutes until you felt a hand of someone on your thigh. The cold rings on the fingers sent tingles down your skin but before you could try to rule out the person, you felt a low breathy voice in your right ear.

“Don’t you think you’re getting too close to your dear best friend, babygirl?”

Euijoo : “Yah! That’s cheating you can’t cross that area!” you screamed your hands set on the game controller moving your fingers on the keys in a swift pace. “Oops, sorry~ well you gotta learn how to work around the rules, you should learn from me” a prideful voice arose from the towering figure sat beside you. “Excuse me?!” It wasn't long until you started tickling him as he reciprocated the action. Fuma is one of your boyfriend’s close friend that he introduced to you since you two started dating. And well you’re a pretty outgoing person so it didn’t take long for you to get comfortable with Fuma in a brotherly way of course. You guys always bricker and share a lot of physical contact which you believed your boyfriend, Euijoo would not mind at all. He’s always been sweet and understanding and definitely is the furthest thing from being jealous or possessive. Well that’s what you thought until you felt a hand stop the bickering between you and Fuma, as the hand grabbed you gently but swiftly away from him. “Alright guys enough play fighting” the sweet voice of your boyfriend was heard loud and clear behind your ear and throughout the room.

You and Fuma just went silent with a pout on each of your faces. The boy sticked his tongue out your way as he turned his head back towards the screen to return back to gaming and you still a bit pissed off at the taunt, planned to do the same until you felt Euijoo’s whisper in your ear.

“Baby.. you shouldn’t keep testing my patience like this..~”

Yuma : Even though your cat-like boyfriend could be quite chaotic most of the time but he sure does put all his effort into planning dates for you two. Except this time things didn’t went as expected. Your best friend had somewhere to be at immediately. This led to her basically yeeting her younger brother Jo right at your doorstep telling you to keep him accompanied for the time being. It’s not that Jo was a 1 year old child or anything, he’s pretty much almost 20 and a full grown adult. But he had a pretty overprotective sister who would either keep him with her or leave him to someone she entrusts so the age card didn’t really helped. And now here he was tagging along on you and your boyfriend’s well-planned date. Not that you mind it, you pretty much just noted it as a three-people hangout. He was pretty quiet and just listened to whatever you and Yuma had to say. He’s pretty much like a cute clueless little kid following you two but that same thought didn’t seep through Yuma’s head. Not that Yuma was making a big scene out of it all neither was he fuming from the head or something. But he sure was being a pouty clingy kitty.

And it wasn’t long until you felt his body heat on your back pressed up against you. You could see Jo being distracted by some kind of treat and you were glad he was. You felt a hand on your waist and fluffy hair sneaked cozily on the side of your neck.

“Hmph.. love~ you’ll need to pay me back with cuddles when we get back home~”

Jo : The gleaming sun was already up and high in the sky. You turned to your side to check the alarm as it read 10:02am. As usual you made your way downstairs, sprinting straight to your tall boyfriend standing in the hallway with a bowl of Japanese white rice in his hands, hugging him in a whiff as he stumbled back from your sudden force. “Baby! I’m hungryyy~” you opened your mouth expecting him to be sweet enough to feed you some of his rice. Instead you opened your eyes to witness him putting the spoon in his own mouth as a cheeky smug formed across his face. Your boyfriend is the most caring one in the world but food is an exception. He’s too much of a foodie to even share which didn’t really ticked you off but still always earned a pout from you. “Hehe no worries~ your savior is here!” you heard a cute energetic tone sprang behind you as well as the wrinkling of the plastic bags containing milk buns. “Yay! You’re the best!” you whined, hugging your friend Harua instantly earning a surprised yelp from him.

That’s when you felt a sudden pull from behind as your back was glued to Jo’s chest in just a few seconds before you tasted the white rice in your mouth. Jo was tilting the spoon into your mouth with fixed cold eyes on Harua. The eyes that seem unphased but also a bit irritated in the same sense.

“No need. She prefers rice for breakfast.”

Harua : Today was supposed to be the perfect food date for you and Harua; but things did not turned out as planned when you two decided to check out a dango stall around the corner.

Harua, your sweet boyfriend, is really keen on sweets and snacks so are you. Finally, you two came up with a plan that the very next date should be at a food market where dim lit snack stalls stand in a long line of queue awaiting for visitors. And as planned, the very next Sunday you both were at the location running left and right, an assortment of dishes sprawled out on each stall. Seeing the tri-colored dango stand on the other side of the line, the two can’t help but sprint right to there. “Hello! Can I have this, and this and that.. and-“ the orders were shortly paused when you caught a glimpse of the boy in front packing up the dango orders. “Taki!?” “Oh hey! Finally noticed me missy? Didn’t knew you would forget me that easily oh my” as dramatic as ever. “Haha jk! Anyways yea I’m just working parttime in the stall here for now, maybe you wanna grab a drink or two after work hours?” You smiled, a ‘yes’ about to leave your lips before you felt your boyfriend’s gentle hand on yours.

“Sorry, her evening is occupied.”

Taki : Woo hoo! Amusement park with Taki! Nothing could compare to how fun that would be. Until you were proven wrong.

You two ended up running into your boyfriend’s older brother, K. You were now convinced this date which has just turned into a hangout is gonna be even more fun! I mean who wouldn’t have fun with such a funny chaotic playful K in the equation. But that same formula doesn’t apply to your boyfriend because an obvious shade formed on his face as soon as K popped up. Before you realized your feelings for your best friend Taki, you had a deep crush on none other than his brother K. Not that you had confessed or anything, but you simply moved on later onwards and you obviously did not take account or take notice that little Taki would be a bit possessive and careful about that past statement. But Taki knew about it all and he is infact not as friendly about it as you thought. And now things turn for worse when you’re smiling and giggling, having way too much fun with K at YOUR DATE WITH TAKI. He’s definitely fuming. “Taki? Baby you’re awfully quiet. Something wrong?” you finally took notice of his absurd change in behavior. Him not wanting to ruin the day and the vibes; “Yea yea, just maybe the heat is getting to me” Obviously, Taki’s lie did not get past you but before you could even reply to his excuse, you felt yourself get dragged in a whip right into one of the capsules of the ferris wheel.

“Finally noticed me now huh?”

Maki : You never took Maki as the type to be a jealous person especially because he is always such a gentleman. The only image of him that filled your head was gentle, sweet, understanding and definitely the furthest thing away from the words possessive or jealous.

But it seems you didn’t know him well enough or he’s just too good at hiding it; he couldn’t hide it no more though, specifically when his older cousin, Nicholas paid a visit to you two. Just a simple helper who came to help out you two in your cooking session right? Except that the helper himself is a flirt; which was not helping the situation out at all. Nicholas unlike his cousin Maki got absolutely NO CHILL, and I’m talking he will rizz you up and flirt with you any chance he got, throwing smirks at Maki’s direction whenever he catches your boyfriend’s death glares. You were cutting up some Chinese cabbage when you felt a hand snaked around your waist. Assuming it was your boyfriend you turned around to find someone else. “Woah Nicho? ..what are you doing?” “Hm? Why? Can’t I just watch from here~?” a smug look on his face. Before you could recover from your shocked state, you were pulled right into a warm chest, far left from Nicho which pushed you to look up.

“No. No you cannot watch.”

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: lee seokmin

first love

'when it comes to you, 'forever' sounds so sweet, so good'

there are some things that are just plain facts like earth being round, for example. there are some things that are not up for arguing like banana milk being the best milk. then there are some things that are true but it takes a while to learn them like how grass is not greener on the other side but where you water it. seokmin thought long and hard about it and in the end decided that his love for you is applicable to all three categories: it's both a fact, something that is not up for arguing and some thing that is true but took a while to learn.

and take a while it did. 'seokkie?' your head pops in, smile wide and eyes crinkled. 'sorry for bothering, just wanted to check in. is everything okay? you've been quiet whole dinner.'

seokmin blinks, focusing on you. he wasn't quiet whole dinner per say - he's been talking and engaging with everyone and to anyone who doesn't know him close he looked absolutely fine. but you are very close to him and of course you noticed slight tense posture, how smile didn't quite reach his eyes. seokmin's heartstrings tug at your attentiveness towards him; he smiles, telling you to come in. when you shuffle forward, he instantly envelops you in a big hug, moving you to lay side by side, finding this gesture oddly comforting. in fact, everything about you is oddly comforting - you remind seokmin of home, of that feeling when you're back in your own bed after being away for a long time. it's addictive and after so many years of knowing you and being your friend, he's sure that he doesn't have anyone closer to him than you.

'what is it, seokkie?' you ask in a whisper, turning your head to face him. your eyes are so expressive, seokmin never gets tired of just staring into them; right now they are filled with worry and gentleness that is so you, seokmin can't help but reach out and pinch your cheek cutely. 'hey! don't distract me mister, answer my question!'

'i don't really know,' seokmin answers truthfully. 'i guess i'm just scared of all these upcoming changes, you know? they feel so big, too big for all of us. i'm scared how they will change everything.'

i'm scared they will change you and me is on the tip of his tongue but he doesn't voice it out loud. he won't be able to let go, he knows it. if you go, this void in his chest won't be filled with anyone else, he knows it too. moving away is hard but it's even harder when he loves-

'whatever can happen will happen,' you say, staring at him seriously. 'but it will never change you and me.'

-you. he loves you. it's clear as a day to him when he now stares at you and this realization takes his breath away. and it's not like seokmin is dumb or oblivious - he definitely knew that his feelings for you bordered on something much, much bigger than simple 'like' or 'friendship'. it's more about how he never thought to give them a name and got so used to having them because they became a part of him, of who he is and whoa, isn't that a big and scary thought? that his feelings for you are literally part of his personality? it probably should be but it doesn't scare seokmin for a one bit. loving you, he realizes, is as easy as breathing.

'i don't want us to ever change,' he admits, trying not to choke on his feelings. 'i want it to always be you and me, together.'

he hopes you hear it. he hopes you understand what he's trying to say because he just learned that he loves you and it's a lot. your smile makes him smile back and when you nod, telling him that you two will always be together, he feels his heart beat faster. 'course, seokkie. i love you,' you say and you say it so easily that his breath hitches.

and if you can say it to easily then he can, too. 'i love you,' he voices out, trying out these words on his tongue. they feel good. 'i love you.'

there's a change in your eyes, like you start to get what he means. when seokmin leans in, you don't stop him or lean back. when he kisses you, you don't push him away or tell him to stop - you kiss him back.

and it's not something up for arguing either. because you are his first friend, his first girlfriend, his first love. seokmin dares anyone to tell him that first love is not real or that it won't last - he is here to prove everyone wrong with you. how can it not last, when you're looking at him with your sweet smile and he feels like earth goes around only because you exist?

and it is a plain fact - earth is round, sky is blue, seokmin loves you with everything in him.

a/n: huge thanks to @flipflopscrop for giving me idea for this one! hopefully you all like it <3 - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hello! i was wondering if you could do poly!plastic x reader where regina has a condition like anemia or is simply just sick and won't admit that she's sick or needs help till she eventually collapses. sorry if it's too specific and you absolutely don't have to do it if you fon't wanna! :)

The Date-

|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; mostly Regina's pov, mentions of throw up, Regina's sick and hiding it, Gretchen stands up to Regina (though briefly), Regina blacks out, brief swearing

|| Summary; when Regina wakes up, she finds she isn't feeling well. But holds out for the date later that evening.

Requests closed!

Started; November 13th

Finished; November 13th

+ Anon Request; hey can you do poly!plastics x reader where it's regina being sick or anemic (only her gfs know that) but would never admit if she's not feeling well because she has an image to "uphold." sorry if it's too specific! it's all gopd i you can't 😅

Author Note; i wrote her being sick, since that was easier for me to write 🫶

~~~

It wasn't often Regina George got sick. In fact, there was hardly ever a time where she was. Of course she's faked being sick a number of times, just like every other kid. But today she was not feeling great. Like, at all. Every time she took a step Regina felt like she would throw up. Or pass out. Or both.

But did she take the day off? No. Because there were things she genuinely wanted to do at school and after today. She wanted to see her girlfriends and partner. Plus, Regina was looking forward to their date tonight. She booked them reservations at a nice ass restaurant and it would suck to lose their spot. Considering the next wait was nearly two months. She wasn't about to wait forever again. So, Regina tried her hardest to look okay. She may have over done it a bit on the makeup, but Regina hardly cared right now.

Despite feeling sick, Regina still took the time to pick up all of you. You, Gretchen and Karen. None of you noticed the signs at first. Gretchen thought she maybe saw a grimace, or was it a scowl? Sometimes it was hard to tell with the blonde. She did try keeping an eye on her, though it didn't take long before Gretchen was distracted by Karen's lips.

Being at school was probably the worst part of it. She skipped a lot of her classes. Regina ended up spending most of her day in the bathroom, just in case she threw up. Because there was no way she would be listening to a teacher right now. No matter who told her to. She'd come out for lunch, hanging out with you and the girls. Trying to seem okay enough that no one would ask her any questions.

Regina managed to make it all the way until the end of the day. Where everything went wrong. Regina was walking next to you, on her other side was Gretchen and Karen. The four of you walking together. You held Regina's hand, rambling about whatever your latest interest was. And Regina tried to pay attention. She really, really did. But... everything went black.

She could vaguely hear the sounds of voices, though it was like she was separated by water. It was muffled, groggily. All around impossible to understand. When she finally came to, Regina was in the nurse's office at the school. Bucket at her couch side. You were next to her while Gretchen and Karen watched nervously. Hands and arms linked together. She groaned as she tried to sit up, but you put a hand to her chest. Keeping her down.

"No you don't," You murmured. Regina's eyes locked to yours and you could see the pain and nausea behind her eyes.

"What..?" Regina had started to ask what happened, but you answered before she could speak. Wanting her to save her strength. You gently brushed Regina's hair out of her face, hand cupping her cheek before you spoke.

"You passed out. Nurse said you looked feverish," You explained, Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes. Slowly letting herself sink into the couch a bit. Before her eyes widened.

"The date-" Regina said, once gain thinking about the reservations. You just smiled softly and shook your head. Looking to Gretchen.

"Absolutely not, those reservations aren't as important as your health." Gretchen put her foot down; which was rare for her to do. Especially to Regina. Though Gretchen's worry for her out weighed any fears.

"There were reservations?" Karen blinked, looking at Gretchen. She forgot all about it. Gretchen just sighed.

"Not for tonight." Her tone held a sense of firmness to it that sounded weird coming from Gretchen. Regina challenged her, knowing it usually didn't take much to sway the girl.

"Excuse me? We're going, I paid a shit tone for those spots. Besides, I'm literally fine. You're overreacting." Regina grumbled. Trying to keep hold of her image. She had to be fine.

You frowned at her, deciding to take over when you saw Gretchen tense up," we'll get a refund, baby. Go another time. But like Gretchen said, those reservations aren't as important as your health."

Regina did not look happy in the slightest. But she finally stopped fighting on it, mostly because she threw up in the trash can. And she was smart enough to know there would be no convincing after that.

[just-some-random-blogger]

im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats on 500 followers!!! 🤩✨

I couldn’t help myself lol. Could I request a Fives x f!reader with an opal or ruby? As for time, possibly a warm spring evening/late afternoon. Maybe the reader is in the GAR as well as a pilot or something, just a suggestion 🤷🏻‍♀️

Spread Your Wings

Summary: You love spending time with Fives, even if you have to steal time together while on break.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 701

Prompt: Ruby - Passionate Love

Warning: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, I got it this time! I hope you like it! And thank you for your request! I'm sorry that it took so long to answer!

“I should have known that I’d find you up here,” Fives voice is low and deeply amused as he climbs up the ladder to find you sprawled out on top of your shuttle (okay, it’s not yours but you pilot it more than anyone else, so it might as well be).

“Well, where else would I be? It’s not like I can run around playing army with you boys.” You tease, your eyes opening just a crack as you feel him settle next to you. 

“You could if you wanted to. And, if you’re going to run around dressed like that-” Fives gestures to you, “You’d definitely win by virtue of being too distracting.”

“Aww, am I a distraction for you, Fives?” You ask with a laugh as you stretch out in the sun. To be fair to him, you had unzipped your flight suit and pulled off the top part to get some much needed sun against your skin. 

“Only the best kind,” Fives replies with a wide grin, his gaze drifts back to your tank top, “That looks very…tight.”

“It’s a camisole,”

“A what now?”

You lift some of the material and then release it, allowing it to snap back into place, “There’s a built in bra, so I don’t have to layer.”

“...so, if I were to just-” Fives dips his hand under the hem of the shirt, and you laugh and slap his hand away, “Babe.”

“What, you want your brothers to get an eyeful?”

He huffs, though there’s a look of amusement on his face, “I don’t care if they see. You’re still mine, after all. They can look as much as they like.”

“You’re so possessive.”

He shrugs, but doesn’t even try to deny it. “Come here, babe.” He tugs you into a sitting position and pulls you onto his lap. “There we go, much better.” Fives murmurs as he folds his arms around you. 

You pout at him, “You’re still wearing your armor.”

“Well yes, Rex would have my head if I tried to remove it, even for your comfort.” His hands slide down your back, “Besides, I thought you liked my armor.”

“Well, you do cut a fine figure in your armor,” You reply with a small smile as you lean closer to him, “But I think I prefer the man under the armor.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky?”

You laugh and press your lips against his. And no other conversation is necessary, as he immediately takes control of the kiss, his tongue sliding across your lips, and then nipping your lower lip.

You release a happy sigh, “I love you,” You murmur against his lips.

“You’d better, or else I’d wonder why you were letting me kiss you like this.” Fives replies, amusement on his face.

“Hmm, if I thought about it, I’d have brought my lipstick. The red one that you like so much.” You tease, “I wonder how mad Rex would get if you were working while covered in lip marks.”

Fives laughs, “Based on last time? So mad.”

He catches your lips in another kiss, this time adjusting you so that he’s able to roll you back onto you back on the shuttle. His clever fingers pull your hair out of its tail and he pulls back to look down at you, a small smile on his face.

“So pretty.” Fives purrs, “This is how you should be forever. Spread out on a bed. With your hair spread around you and your face flushed, and your lips swollen from kisses.”

“Oh? Just like this?”

“Hm…well, I’d remove some clothes, and leave a few more marks-”

You flash a small grin and reach out for him, “Show me?”

“Oh, gladly.” Fives leans in and is just about to kiss you again, when there’s a shout of his name.

“Fives! You had better not be on top of the shuttle!” Rex shouts.

“Kriff. Busted.”

You press your hand over your mouth to smother your laughter, “Back to work, lover boy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, cyare.”

“Love you too.”

Fives drops a quick kiss to your forehead before he scrambles back towards the ladder. “Will you untwist your panties? I’m coming, I’m coming!”