#they are so incredibly angsty i couldn't help it

[melllohigrace]

the fence blocks bloodlust

Bdubs hates the fence, he loves being red, but he hates watching Etho walk away.

last life!ethubs angst drabble :) 352 words

...

Bdubs hates the fence.

He hates the line drawn down the middle of the snow castle, he hates the fence, he hates all of it. But he loves being red. It's exhilarating, it's refreshing, it's violent.

But he's alone.

He stares over the fence at Etho, who is staring back at him with an apprehensive look. His eyes are tinted green, even the red one with the jagged scar running down it. Contrary to Bdubs, whose eyes are red and full of bloodlust.

He watches as Etho begins to struggle for words. His mouth is covered by his mask, but Bdubs knows the former well enough to tell when he's struggling for words. His eyes start to wander and his hands start shaking. Bdubs isn't sure if Etho is scared – surely not, Bdubs would never hurt him – or just unsure of where they stand.

"Etho-“ he starts off, but Etho shakes his head.

“I can’t do this, Dubs,” he admits, reaching down to his side for his sword. “I can’t do this again.”

“Do what?” Bdubs asks, the red bloodlust in his veins itching to do something, to attack Etho. But Bdubs restrains himself, because this is Etho, and Bdubs would never hurt him, not like that. Not unless he really had to, and right now, he doesn’t. “We haven’t done anything like this before.”

“Last time,” Etho murmurs, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, “you were red early on. And you lost Cleo, and I thought…” his words hitch in his throat.

Bdubs stares at him, waiting for his best friend to continue.

“I didn’t want to see you go before me,” Etho breathes out, and he turns away.

Bdubs - despite how brave he is, how confident he is - watches him walk away. As a red player, he should be chasing after Etho, taking his lives, forcing him down to red, acting on the bloodlust coursing through his veins. But he doesn’t.

He watches Etho go, run away to find safety in greens and yellows, away from Bdubs who will only hurt him if he stays.

[softlandos]

the moment i knew | lando norris

summary: the one where you win the british grand prix instead of your teammate and you both face the harsh realities of falling in love with your rival

warnings: angsty!! and sad lando :( lmk if you want a part 2!

inspired by lewis’ win at silverstone and these videos of sad lando :(

a/n: this is my first ever fic! please please please let me know if you like it!

The roar of the engines was deafening as the Silverstone Grand Prix reached its climax. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, watching two teammates battle it out for the lead. Lando Norris was in P1, but you were hot on his heels, fighting for every inch of the track.

Lando, leveraging his years of experience, expertly defended his position. He loved the challenge you presented, finding it exhilarating to duel with his teammate, especially someone in just their second season.

"You're not gonna pass me that easily," Lando smirked, his voice crackling over the team radio as he blocked your latest attempt to overtake. He was enjoying every moment, the thrill of the race coursing through his veins.

But you were relentless. Spotting a gap, you pushed your car and yourself to the absolute limit, probably destroying your tyres in the process. With a bold move, you managed to squeeze past Lando, your car sliding into the lead.

"Damn it!" Lando cursed, his frustration evident. He had given it his all to defend that position, and yet, you found a way through. It was a testament to your skill and determination, especially impressive for a second-year driver.

"Let's goooooo!" you shouted into your radio, exhilaration filling your voice.

Lando rolled his eyes at your celebration, but deep down, a part of him was proud. You had shown incredible tenacity and skill, but he wasn't going to let you stay ahead without a fight. He began pushing his car to its limits, determined to reclaim the lead.

"Lando, she's degraded her tyres trying to get that spot," his race engineer informed him. "She’ll have to pit soon."

A smile spread across Lando's face. Your aggressive move had come at a cost, and now he saw an opportunity. With your tyres wearing down, he could catch up and potentially reclaim his position. He pushed his car even harder, closing the gap between the two of you.

However, as he tried to overtake, he recognized something familiar in your defensive maneuvers. You were using his own techniques against him! He couldn't help but feel a mix of annoyance and respect. It was clear you had been watching and learning from him.

"Damn it, she's really good," Lando grumbled to his engineer, the frustration evident in his voice. "She's using my own moves against me!"

His engineer's calm response came through the radio, "Her tyres are starting to wear down. You can get her in a few laps. Play it smart, and we can win this race."

With renewed determination, Lando pushed his car to the brink. On social media, fans and commentators buzzed with excitement, praising the intense battle between the two teammates. They lauded your skill and determination while acknowledging Lando's impressive defense.

"My tyres are getting destroyed," you radioed to your team, the strain in your voice clear.

"We know, keep it cool for now," your team responded, trying to calm your nerves. "Lando is catching up, but your tyres are still good. Defend as much as possible and wait for the right opportunity to pit for fresh tyres."

With only a few laps left, you made a bold decision. "No pitting," you declared firmly.

Your team was thrilled. "We hear you, no pitting! Let's do this! Last four laps, give it everything you got!"

As the laps dwindled, the tension was palpable. Lando was right on your tail, and the battle was fierce. At the pit wall, your team joked, "On a scale from 1-10, how pissed is Lando right now?"

"Ten, definitely a ten," they laughed. "If he wasn’t so focused on racing, he’d be ripping his hair out right now. She’s making things so difficult for him!"

With every turn and every straight, the race to the finish line was a testament to skill, determination, and sheer willpower. The battle between you and Lando was one for the ages, a true Silverstone showdown.

"GUYS IM SO CLOSE!" you shouted, the excitement in your voice unmistakable.

At this point, the entire team was cheering you on over the radio, clearly thrilled by your determination and skills.

With two laps left, the tension was at its peak. "Two laps left, you can do it!" your team encouraged.

The entire team was on the edge of their seats, watching the race with bated breath. As you entered the final lap, the energy in the paddock was electric. "LAST LAP!” your team shouted in electric excitement, then quickly adjusted their volume. “Just one more lap, you can do it! Go, go, go!”

With sheer determination, you crossed the finish line first. "I DID ITTTTT!" you screamed into the radio.

Everyone in the paddock erupted in celebration. "YOU DID IT! YOU WON! CONGRATULATIONS!"

The celebrations continued as everyone was ecstatic about your victory. "That was amazing! You were incredible out there! We're so proud of you!"

"FIRST WOMAN TO WIN A GRAND PRIX!" someone shouted, and the cheers grew even louder.

You were so excited that you almost crashed driving to the P1 spot. "Woah, woah, take it easy! Save the celebrations for later; we don't want you crashing on national television!" your team cautioned amusedly.

After three victory laps, you finally drove up to the P1 spot. Standing on your car with the flag in your hand, the crowd erupted in the loudest cheers imaginable. "She's done it! She's made history! The first woman to win a Formula 1 race in history!" the commentators screamed.

Lando was the first to congratulate you, sweeping you up into a massive hug and lifting you off the ground. "You did it! That was amazing, I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Lan," you replied, your heart full.

Next in line was your idol, Lewis Hamilton. When you saw him, you almost broke down into tears. He laughed and smiled, knowing what this moment meant to you. The moment went viral online as he pulled you into a hug.

"Congratulations, kiddo. You deserve it. That was an incredible drive, and you made history today. I'm so proud of you," Lewis said, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug.

You couldn't process any of his words, just squeezing him tighter.

He chuckled, understanding your emotions. "Take it all in, kid. This is a moment that will go down in history. You've done something incredible today."

The Silverstone Grand Prix had not just been a race. It had been a battle, a triumph, and a historic moment that would be remembered forever.

After the victory celebration, you found yourself back in the paddock with Lando. The adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off, leaving you both a bit exhausted but still elated from the excitement.

"Wow," Lando spoke, a tired smile on his face. "That was one hell of a race. You really did it, you know? You made history today."

"… Hey, Lan?" you said quietly.

He looked over at you, his tired eyes meeting yours. "Yeah? What's up?" he replied softly.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," you said, knowing he was devastated that he didn’t win. The moment made everything slow down, and it felt like it was just the two of you in the whole world. You were crossing a line you had both avoided until now.

His expression changed to surprise as you called him out on his emotions. He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. "You caught me, huh? Well, yeah, I'm a bit disappointed that I didn't win. But seeing you get that victory? It's hard not to be happy for you." He let out a soft chuckle. "You deserve it."

"Lando..." you sighed, seeing the depth of his disappointment and struggle.

Lando sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I know. I'm trying not to let it show, but deep down, I am disappointed. It sucks when you're so close to the finish line and then suddenly, bam, you're not the one crossing it. But hey, that's Formula 1 for you. Sometimes it goes your way, sometimes it doesn't."

"You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to give me that media-trained PR answer either. We’re not in an interview."

Lando dropped his media-trained mask and let his guard down a bit, revealing his true emotions. "You're right," he admitted. "It sucks. I wanted that win. I wanted it so badly. I feel like I let my team down, let myself down. It stings."

"I’m sorry you feel that way. And it hurts knowing that I’m..." you stopped yourself, not saying what you wanted to, knowing it would change everything between you forever.

Lando looked at you, his exhaustion replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern. "What? What were you going to say? You can be honest, I can take it."

"You can fool everyone else, but not me," you said, knowing he understood. Suddenly, the world seemed to stop. You were both so deeply in love, but equally as in denial, refusing to show it. It felt like you were towing the line.

Lando felt his heart skip a beat as you saw through his façade. He knew exactly what you were insinuating. His mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions – the weight of his disappointment, his desire to win, and now, the overwhelming feelings of love for you. In that moment, it was undeniable. He looked at you, his eyes holding your gaze for a brief moment before looking downward with a mix of fear and vulnerability.

"I’m sorry you’re hurting and that no one else around you can see it," you said softly, your own pain evident in your voice. "But I can’t comfort you." You wanted to say "I love you," but the words stuck in your throat.

Instead you said, "I can’t make my moment about you."

Lando nodded, his expression softening with complete understanding. He appreciated your empathy and knew he couldn't expect you to shift the focus from your victory. “I know,” he responded gently. “And I don’t want you to. This is your moment, and I’m happy for you. You deserve all the celebration in the world right now.”

“Just...” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Just because I might not show it, don’t think I don’t notice. I see everything you’re going through.” “Because I love you,", the words echoed in your mind.

Lando's eyes met yours, filled with unspoken understanding. “I know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with vulnerability. “I know you do. And I notice everything about you too. Maybe one day we won’t have to pretend anymore.”

Your breath caught, and you stared at him, the weight of your unspoken emotions hanging in the air. It was a moment that felt almost cinematic, full of intensity and unvoiced feelings. You cleared your throat, trying to shift the focus. “About the race, right! Yeah, um. One day we won’t have to pretend to be happy when we’re upset about losing a race.”

Your heart ached. You wondered if he meant one day you wouldn’t have to pretend that you didn’t love each other. If only you knew you were right. The double meaning of your words felt heavy.

Lando nodded, sensing the depth of your hidden conversation. The tension between you was palpable, but you both knew you couldn’t act on it now. There were too many eyes watching, too many expectations. “Right,” he echoed, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “One day. But for now, we have to focus on the present. And right now, that means celebrating your incredible win.”

“...Or, not celebrating, if you don’t want to. I get it.”

Lando shook his head, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips. “No, no. I want to celebrate. I may be disappointed, but I’m also genuinely happy for you. You worked your ass off for this, and you absolutely deserve it. I’ll be there, cheering as loud and as proud as anyone else.”

The moment faded away, another one locked in a vault that you would probably never have the bravery to reopen. Lando quickly composed himself, returning to his usual self, though a hint of your emotional connection still lingered in the air. “Alright, then it’s settled. You go out there, and we’ll enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it. We’ll talk more later, yeah?”

"Lan-" you stopped him, all of your love on full display in your eyes.

Lando stopped in his tracks as you called his name, turning to face you. The look in your eyes was undeniable, filled with unspoken emotions. His heart clenched as he met your gaze, the unspoken love and understanding between you stronger than ever. It was as if the world had frozen for a moment, leaving you standing in a private bubble of your intense connection.

“Yes?” he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation and vulnerability. He knew what you were trying to say without speaking aloud. He felt it too. But he couldn’t be the one to break the boundaries you had set. It had to be you.

"I love you," you said in your mind. Instead, you uttered, "Um, enjoy your... evening?"

Lando felt a pang in his heart as you hesitated to say what you both knew was true. He could read the words in your eyes, even if you didn’t say them. But he understood why you couldn’t. Not yet. He knew in his heart that he loved you just as fiercely, but you were both scared of the ramifications. Instead, he gave you a bittersweet smile. “Thanks. You too. Enjoy the party. You deserve all the celebration.”

Your heart broke.

Lando reached out, his hand briefly resting on your arm in a silent gesture of connection. But words were pointless. You both knew how deep your feelings ran. It was something you’d have to address another time. “We’ll talk more soon, okay?” he said softly, his eyes full of emotion.

"About what?" you let your helplessness about your feelings slip out and instantly regretted it.

Lando’s breath hitched as you let your frustration slip out. He knew exactly what you were referring to, but you both knew now wasn’t the time to discuss it. You were surrounded by people, cameras, and the pressure of your careers. “You know what,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “Just… just be careful, yeah? Make sure you’re taking care of yourself amidst all this chaos.”

Your heart hurt.

Lando could feel your pain in his chest. He longed to hold you, to comfort you, but you were trapped in your own cage of circumstances. You both knew the power of your feelings for each other and how risky it would be to give in. “Look… I know it’s tough,” he said quietly. “But we have to be smart about this.”

Your breath hitched, and your heart raced. He wasn’t pretending right now. "Can we just-" you stopped yourself, your heart so heavy it might give out. "Just for one day? Can we pretend the world doesn’t exist?" you whispered. Your heart physically hurt from how much you needed but couldn’t have him.

Lando’s heart leapt in his chest at your hushed words, a flicker of hope igniting within him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if you could cast aside all your worries and fears and simply be together in the way you both longed for. But as quickly as the hope flared, the weight of your reality crashed back down around you. He sighed, his voice filled with sadness.

“We can’t, love.”

Your heart broke. Shattered. It wasn’t elegant. He could see the shards and blood and pain in your expression, and he hated that he caused it. There was no hiding it; your eyes always told him what he needed to know.

You nodded as you walked away.

Lando stood there, his heart throbbing with anguish. He watched you walk away, the pain in his chest growing with each step you took. The weight of your unspoken emotions hung heavily in the air, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. He felt frozen in place, wishing he could take back the words that had broken both your hearts.

lmk if you want a part 2!! (it’s already written and super fluffy, but i cant decide if i should post it. spoiler alert: they get their happy ending)

reblogs are appreciated as i just made this blog! <3

[demonpiratehuntress]

stupid

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

Summary - your cluelessness could rival Luffy's. not knowing Ace has the biggest crush on you, you think he keeps asking to stop at a particular island to see someone. and you're confused when he brings you your favourite flower each time.

Warnings - angst to comfort (been feeling a bit angsty lately)

"Hey, it's Ace's girlfriend's island!"

The comment was seemingly harmless, purely meant to tease the 2nd Division Commander for his constant - albeit mysterious - request to always stop at this island any time the ship passed it. But despite the good-natured intention of the crewmate who'd said it, you couldn't stop the way your heart sunk a little.

Your secret was well-kept if no one knew about your crush on the fiery commander, which you were kind of grateful for considering the circumstances you now found yourself facing.

"(Name), are you gonna come this time? Maybe we'll actually get to meet her!" One of your crew asked, again not meaning any harm.

But the thought had you losing your balance, and you stumbled a little before catching yourself. You shook your head with a small, forced smile, "No, I'm okay. Looks like I'm a bit tired." You laughed, but it didn't sound quite like it usually did.

Before they could question you, though, you were gone. It was well-known that you were Ace's best friend, and the two of you were practically inseparable. Or had been. Ever since you noticed the repeated stops at this island you'd started putting distance between you and him, little by little so he wouldn't notice.

It was hard. Incredibly hard. You never stood a chance against Ace's charms and humour, and now you had to deal with the consequences of falling for a man every woman would want. You were just his best friend, and that's all you'd ever be. So you had to either learn to accept it and let him go, or else the burden of feeling so much for him would inevitably break you.

The odd thing about this whole scenario was that each time Ace would go out and spend the day with whoever he was seeing on the island, he would always come back with a (favourite flower) for you. And you had no idea why, but he just said it was because he knew you liked them and shrugged it off.

The moment you hit your bed, your emotions overwhelmed you and you broke down, crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

This time, you weren't going to accept his stupid flower.

-

By the time you woke up, most of the day had passed. You were still docked at the island, indicating that Ace and whoever had gone with him had not returned yet. You tried not to care, dismissing their absence by immersing yourself in one of your books. Locking yourself up in your room so you wouldn't have to deal with anyone - or the crew relentlessly teasing Ace for having a girlfriend.

A knock at your door startled you, but you chose to ignore it and went back to reading. After a few minutes, you exhaled, thinking that the person had left, until a familiar voice made you jump.

"I know you're not sleeping! Come on, this is mean!" Ace complained, knocking again. "Let me in!"

You rolled your eyes but again ignored him, continuing on the adventure you were embarking on mentally. His knocking continued, and you cursed his stubbornness as you eventually threw your book aside and got up to angrily open the door.

"What?!" You hissed, harsher than you intended.

He faltered, his excitement visibly fading, "Is something wrong?"

"What do you want, Ace?" You asked, trying to be gentler but still speaking coldly. You couldn't help it, you were hurt.

He held out the flower, looking hopeful. He could see you were upset for some reason, and he wanted to know why, but first he wanted to give you the thing he searched the whole island for. Your favourite flower. It was a routine thing for him, the reason he requested to stop here. But he always forgot where the flowers were, or ended up falling asleep in the meadow, so he usually came back late. He never once thought you'd assume he was seeing someone else.

Because truth was, Ace was head-over-heels in love with you. And yes, he felt ridiculous for falling for his best friend, but he couldn't help it when you were the one person who understood him better than anyone else. The one person who made his life brighter and happier just by existing.

"No," you shook your head, "I don't want it this time."

His heart sank at your words. A frown fell on his lips, unusual for the typically cheerful man. He felt hurt by your response, and an awkwardness he'd never felt before fell over the two of you. He slowly dropped his hand, and even the flower seemed to droop like you'd broken its heart as well.

"Go give it to your girlfriend." Then you slammed the door shut.

Ace blinked.

Wait, what?

You thought he...oh no. He face-palmed, cursing at how stupid this situation suddenly became. You really thought he was out on the island meeting up with some girl? Is that how clueless you were to his affections, how naive you were to his advances? Did you really not get any of his hints?

He suddenly laughed out loud, feeling relieved. This was easily fixable. He thought you hated him, or at least just didn't feel about him the same way he felt about you.

You ripped the door open, "What's so funny?!"

"You," he chuckled. "You're an idiot."

You were used to his insults, but your eyes narrowed at this one, "And why is that, exactly?"

"Because you think I'd be out chasing some other girl when you're here," he answered honestly, genuinely. "You're so naive."

Your jaw dropped at his confession, then your expression hardened again and you crossed your arms, "Hey you're always on that island so long, what else do you expect me to think??"

He laughed even more, "Cute. The answer to that is simple. I'm stupid too." He held up the flower again. "I can never remember where that meadow is, and it takes me the whole day to find it again. And I remember you said it only grows here. I also...fall asleep in the grass sometimes." He laughed nervously, blushing.

You had no idea what to say. This whole time...he had been wanting to go to this island for your sake. To find a flower he knows you like. Your heartbeat sped up, a strong blush coming over your cheeks.

"Ace-"

"You know, you're quite mean," he pouted, "I thought you hated me. So my feelings are hurt."

You blushed in embarrassment, "I-I'm sorry! I just thought-"

"Kiss me and we'll call it even," he smirked, then his eyes widened, "Wait wait no, date me and we'll call it even."

You laughed and took the flower from him, "I can do both."

Cue the poor blushing, flustered boy bursting into flames.

[arlertwhore]

Night Owl - Nika Muhl.

pairing: nika muhl x fem! reader

word count: 1.4k

synopsis: wnba rookie nika has become a night owl to a worrying extent since entering the league, staying up late in the living room watching games — you just want her in bed.

warning (s): kinda fluffy, smut, fingering, gettin da 🐈 caressed, tongue play, makeout sesh, nipple play, hickies, nika is angsty lol.

a/n: i heard y’all asking so i delivered

If you thought Nika's craze and perfectionism was intense back when she was at UConn, you've come to realize it's on a whole other level now that she's made the WNBA. She's a rookie, trying to ride the wave of it all, and she's utterly stressed.

You used to playfully tease that the 'N' in your girlfriend's name stood for "night owl." She was perpetually burning the midnight oil, diving into game replays and refining her skills, all with the determination of an WNBA athlete aiming for the win.

You were undeniably proud of her. Yet, you couldn't help but long for the days when she wasn't a mad-man.

It had left you like this on countless nights, feeling the absence keenly as you lay in bed, reaching out for her warmth only to find empty sheets. You'd often find yourself slipping out of bed, drawn to the dim glow of the living room where you'd discover Nika, immersed in her work or training, her dedication evident in the lines of concentration etched on her face. As much as you admired her drive, it was hard not to yearn for the simpler moments when she was by your side, untethered by the demands of her relentless pursuit of excellence.

"Baby," you sighed softly, casting your gaze over the parlor, "Come to bed, Nik, you know I can't sleep without you. And all this... it's really starting to worry me."

Nika's face remained fixated on the TV screen, lips parted, but her hands extended towards you, silently beckoning you to join her.

"I'm all good, baby, jus-" she paused, seeming to relax now that you were on her lap, her hands instinctively upon your waist, "You know I work better at night."

You pressed your lips into a line, a bittersweet smile on your face. "Can I interrupt?" you asked softly.

Nika's eyes flicked between you and the screen. "Mhm, of course."

You leaned in close to her face, nose-to-nose. "It's currently 2 going on 3," you whispered. You pecked her lips gently. "No more of this, Nika. You're not gonna learn anything by burning yourself out."

You took a lock of her brown hair, twirling it gently between your fingers, savoring its softness. "And if you do want to burn yourself out... you've got me," you whispered sensually, promises of your support.

You smiled reassuringly, and Nika returned it with that familiar, comforting smile before leaning in and planting another tender kiss on your lips.

Before you knew it, you guys were deeply engrossed in a make-out session, one that blended perfectly with the mood of the night and the atmosphere surrounding you two. With her gentle hands, she felt you up and down, one inching down towards your clothed heat

to rub over your shorts, and the other moving up to your perky breast seamlessly, rubbing it.

Easily, just like that, you got Nika back to bed, where she continued to feel you up over your night shorts until you succumbed to the pleasure and came undone in your pants with soft, ragged breaths and whines into her mouth.

Feeling the after-effects of your orgasm and the lingering fatigue, you quickly drifted into a deep sleep, comforted by her presence.

When you awoke again, Nika was still awake, her gaze fixed on you as you stirred.

"Sorry," she blushed immediately, her tone apologetic. "I know you hate it when I watch you." But how couldn't she? You looked so incredibly sexy to her in that moment.

Through sleepy, lidded eyes, you gazed up at her, your expression filled with adoration. "You wanna go back to that living room, huh?" you said teasingly, knowing her like the back of your hand, and she

she hesitated before admitting it with a small smile, "I might. But you're making me stay."

Your eyes ghosted down to her lips. "I'd hope so," you crooned before leaning in to kiss her. Positioned intimately in bed, your lips,

involuntarily against her neck, began to plant soft kisses along its delicate curve.

Nika shuddered, hand flying to grip your back and pull you closer to her body. "You're so tense," you observed between kisses, your voice laced with desire. "Makes sense why you can't sleep," you remarked, your breath warm against her skin.

She turned over onto her back, pulling you close between her arm and side, her embrace a silent plea for closeness. Your hand ghosted down Nika's thigh, eliciting a gasp from her as it reached her most sensitive spot.

With practiced ease, your fingers slipped inside her, sending her eyes rolling back in ecstacy, pleasure overtaking her body as all the tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of bliss.

You chuckled at her reaction to finally getting what you knew she had needed all along. "Am I making you wanna stay put?" you teased gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as your lips trailed down her neck, giving her soft kisses that gradually intensified into gentle nips and sucks, forming subtle marks of need.

You worked your fingers, pumping them in and out of her wet cunt as she arched her back, her muscles gradually untensing with each stroke of your determined fingers into her. Soft sighs escaped her parted lips, the brunette releasing small moans of satisfaction into the air.

You leered at Nika unabashedly, your eyes attempting to capture every detail, trying to engrave this moment into your memory forever.

Under the moonlight's gentle embrace, she appears like a scene from an angel. Her fair skin seems to catch the moon's glow, giving her an almost otherworldly aura, and each strand of her hair is softly illuminated, framing her face like a halo.

There's a gentle sweat on her skin from the releasing of her stress and from the warmth of the night air. In this moment, she's not just beautiful, she's captivating in her simplicity. It's a sight that makes your heart skip a beat, a reminder of the magic that exists in the world, especially when you least expect it.

"Am I making you feel better, Nika?" She nodded repeatedly, her eyes closed in pleasure, and her teeth biting down on her bottom lip as she surrendered to the pleasure roving through her body.

"Look at me and tell me how good I'm making you feel then," she clutches the sheets beneath her with one hand, her knuckles turning white, and with the other, the hand that's keeping you close to her body, she pulls you in even closer as she begins to play with her nipple through her flimsy night top, her breathing growing heavier and her moans becoming more pronounced.

Quickly, a minute later, she's panting, "I'm gonna cum on your fingers, baby."

Her body responds eagerly to your touch. She writhes beneath you, bucking against your skilled fingers as you stroke into her, each movement driving her closer to the edge. Gasping with pleasure, she urges you on, her voice trembling with desire. "Keep on goin', babe, just li-like that."

Your lips find hers hungrily, fueled by a primal desire. Sensing her surrender, you do something that makes her tremble weakly, a silent plea for more; you lick into her mouth, greeting her tongue with your own. Her lips try to catch it, but your tongue slips away, leaving her mouth curling around nothing as she finally opens her eyes and gazes at you, elated.

When she cums, it's silent, and you'd miss it lest your eyes remain on her how they are, persistently. She stills, her body frozen in a moment of pure ecstasy. There's no sound, no movement, until the climax washes over her completely. With a sigh of relief, her eyes shut instantaneously, and she lets out a quiet, satisfied groan, completely lost in the blissful aftermath of pleasure.

She'd came a river onto your hands. As you turn around, behind yourself for the nightstand, grabbing some wipes to clean up the aftermath, you turn back to offer some to her, only to find your girlfriend fast asleep, completely spent from the intensity of it all. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you realize just how thoroughly she's been intoxicated by stress and how you had just eliminated it. You'd do this everynight with her if you had to, just to keep her there, relaxed in bed with you. With gentle care, you clean her up before settling back beside her, wrapping her in your arms as you drift off to sleep together.

You whisper those three precious words to your sleeping beauty, "Love you, Nika," not expecting any response from her exhausted form. But then, to your surprise, you hear a faint murmur from the depths of her slumber, "Love you too."

masterlist

an: it’s soooo late omg I’ll add my thoughts later update: loved writing this... y'all she is a smokeshow i had to lock in.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 13

Warnings: Angsty Minho, minor violence

Y/N felt a pain in her chest as she baked a load of snacks for Minho. Her omega didn't like what they were doing to Minho on his birthday. He seemed to value being close to people and took it personally when the smallest things were not recognised. She wanted to make it all better but Changbin promised he will be alright, eventhough Y/N disagreed. It wasn't fair, Minho must have felt annoyed to not go out on his birthday if it was a tradition. Y/N wouldn't have minded staying home if she couldn't go out. Y/N felt awful which was why she wanted to do something nice for him while they were out distracting him. She even spent the morning tidying his nest up, making sure it was as neat as possible for him. She even added some candles that she thought would enhance his scent. Once everything was baked she put it into tupperware boxes and left it on his side with a handwritten note for him, hoping he would appreciate it. When she walked back down into the kitchen to finish helping Felix she saw Hyunjin leaning against the alcove. His hair was pinned back into a lose ponytail, some of it falling out. He looked shattered, but somehow still looked incredibly attractive.

"Are you feeling better?" Y/N whispered, trying not to make eye contact with him as she walked passed him to Felix.

"Wouldn't you like to know." His tone laced with irony a meaning she didn't understand.

"Ah Alpha Hyunjin, your back. Did you shower?" Felix stated in excitement as he saw the alpha had returned. "Are you hungry, I made lots of food. I can make more."

"I am alright Lixie. Do not worry, I'm going out with Chan soon anyway." Hyunjin said softly as he ruffled the younger betas hair.

Y/N watched their interaction and found it quite sweet but also different. She hadn't seen Hyunjin as gentle before. Felix she had seen as gentle as if he was an omega. Felix was very docile and kind. He was always willing to please and if he got it wrong he felt immense guilt. She had never met such a sensitive beta before. It was quite cute, he reminded her of Yeosang. He was a very caring omega and always put others first. Felix noticed her staring at him and gave her a big grin, beckoning her over.

"What are you thinking about?" Felix asked as he brushed her hair behind her ear with his little finger.

"Your hair is getting longer." Y/N stated.

"Do you not like it?" Felix asked nervously.

"No. No. I really like it a lot, it's kind of sexy." Y/N blurted out, making Felix grin. His heart was being so hard in his chest in excitement.

"You're so cute Y/N-ssi." Felix stated as he pulled her into a hug, kissing all over her face, making the omega more embarrassed. "I'll keep it as long as you want. Come on let's finish this." Y/N and Felix continued to decorate the kitchen table with food, while Jisung and Jeongin where pulling some games out. It was all going great up until Minho had arrived with Seungmin and Jeongin.

"What's happened?" Y/N asked as she saw the angry look on Minho's face and an awkward Jeongin and Seungmin.

"Just stay out of my way." Minho growled as he pushed past Seungmin when Y/N grabbed hold of him with him excitement.

"Come on Minho-ah. I've got to show you something you'll-"

"I'm not in the mood omega. You better not have been in my room!" Minho shouted, snatching his arm away from her. Y/N's jaw tightened and she tried to focus on the wall in front of her so she didn't cry, but it was too late.

Felix ran towards Y/N and pulled her into his chest letting her cry. His beta instincts kicked in when he saw her disappointed face. Felix felt guilty, it was his idea to tidy Minho's room and put something's in there for him.

"Come on omega, Lix. We need to grab some candles." Hyunjin stated as he grabbed his car keys as the two wolves stared at him. "Let's go before Chan changes his mind." Felix nodded and walked to the cupboard to grab Y/N's coat only to realize she didn't have one so he grabbed Seungmins for her and gave it to her. It was a little bit too big for her but it will do.

"Let's go. Minho will be fine, he's probably feeling guilty." Hyunjin stated as he tried to hurry them up to the car. Y/N awkwardly followed, taking Felix's warm hand to the car and sitting in the back with him.

"Do not worry about Minho Hyung. He will feel guilty." Felix promised. What she didn't know was that Felix was right. The minute Minho had walked into his room and saw the note left on his side his heart shattered. He felt immense guilt as he read the note over and over again. He felt awful as he thought back to her excited face. Minho sat there in the middle of the floor and cried, knowing he had ruined it.

When they reached the shopping mall Felix took his hand in hers, holding it tightly as they followed Hyunjin to the shop.

"I'm going to go down there to get some art supplies, you stay with Felix." Hyunjin stated as Felix grabbed her hand tightly taking her to find candles.

"Ah ha. Here we go!" Felix stated as he grabbed the two and the six. Y/N realised she didn't know how old any of them where.

"Felix, how old are you?" Y/N asked.

"I'm 24. Wait, how old are you? When is your birthday. Have we missed it?" Felix asked nervously.

"No no. My birthday is February the 18th. I'm 23." Y/N answered

"Your birthday is near Jeongins. His is the 8th of February." Felix answered as he took her hand to the baking section. "I need some more tins as the other ones are not so good."

"Shall I take these to Hyunjin? He's only down there?" Y/N asked.

"Be quick." Felix stated as he looked through the tins and baking trays. Y/N nodded, pulling on Seungmins coat as she headed towards Hyunjin. Y/N pulled at the zip up to her neck, hiding her chin as she started to feel uncomfortable. There was a scent of old leather and spices around and she didn't trust it. She didn't want to panic incase it was another wolf but something in the back of her mind stated it wasn't and she was right to think that. As soon as she turned the corner she walked straight into her old alpha. Shit. Wooyoung! Y/N freezed as she stared up at him, almost holding her breath, as she slowly backed away, but he already grabbed, taking zero chances. Wooyoung wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her out of the shop.

"Where did you run off too, omega? Ay?" Wooyoung's voice burned deep into Y/N's soul, rebranding her all over again.

"Do you know how worried Hongjoong has been? He will forgive you omega. He will forgive you for hitting him over the head. He knows it wasn't your fault. He knows it's Jongho's fault." Wooyoung cooed but his tone held a lie. Y/N started to panic as he pushed her out of the shopping mall.

"Look who it is omega. It's San." Wooyoung whispered, causing Y/N to dig her heals straight into the ground. San isn't always as kind when he was angry.

"Please. Please. Please." Y/N begged as she tried to pull him off of her. Her hands pushed and slapped Wooyoung but he didn't budge. Y/N even tried to bite him as she knew her fangs could do a lot of damage but she couldn't reach him. San watched in amusement as she thrashed in Wooyoung's arm.

"Come now omega. You've played long enough." San stated as he walked towards her, grabbing her chin roughly, forcing her to meet his amber eyes. As soon as she did he slapped her straight across the face. Y/N's hand slowly reached towards her nose as she felt the blood start to drip.

"Wooyoung!" Hyunjin growled, his eyes a deep shade of red as he met them, an angry Felix behind him. Y/N had never seen this side of Felix before. He looked lethal. His jaw locked and his hands clenched ready to fight if he needed too.

"Hyunjin" Wooyoung turned around, laughing at the alpha as he held Y/N tight in his grasp. "How unfortunate we meet again."

"Let. Her. Go." Hyunjin growled, his eyes burning into Wooyoung's.

"How about no. She isn't yours." Wooyoung taunted, throwing his head back with a laugh when Felix pounced straight onto San knocking him to the ground. Felix was relentless as he punched San. Wooyoung narrowed his eyes as he realised he underestimated Felix. Hyunjin could tell he was panicking as he slowly started to back away with Y/N still in his grasp. Hyunjin crouched slightly waiting for Wooyoung to relax his hold so he could pull Y/N back. He wanted to grab her without hurting her too much but knew there might be some damage.

"Little wolf." Hyunjin called, giving her a soft look before he grabbed her the bottom of her coat trying to drag her foreword when Wooyoung had pulled her back by the neck, causing Y/N to help. Hyunjin pushed forward and hit the side of Wooyoung's face causing the alpha to throw the omega to the side. As soon as Y/N hit the concrete floor she took a quick glance to see Felix pushing San's head to the side when she heard a snap. Felix had killed San.

[vivwritesfics]

ok now that i got confirmation u like 5sos... may i pls request down bad rookie logan based on try hard 🤪

Noelle I love you but i couldn't work a song fic for this one, tried it from several angles, so i am gifting you an angsty bestie logan thing

idk if Fort Lauderdale has a beach, now it does

"I hate it when you're not here," she said down the phone as she laid back on her bed.

Her alarm clock sitting on the dresser flashed a ridiculous time in the morning, but she knew that wasn't the time where Logan was. The exhaustion was worth it to get to speak to him.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, sounding just as tired as she was. But this was because he had just woken up, not that he hadn't yet slept (like her). "But I'm coming back soon."

"Home."

But it wasn't his home, was it? Not anymore. No, his home was shitty shitty England, wasn't it?

Florida didn't feel right without him there.

But he was out living his dream, so she couldn't bring herself to hate him. She could never bring herself to hate him.

Her favourite time of year was when Logan came home. For the Miami Grand prix, for Christmas, for her birthday. Yeah, he'd never miss her birthday, if he could help it. It had been that way since his karting days, but back then his parent's used to pay for him to come home. Now he could afford it himself.

She let out a yawn, one she hoped he couldn't hear.

"Jesus, what time is it there?"

She didn't answer it right away, but Logan worked it out in his head. "Three in the morning, right?" He asked and she let out a hum. "Shit, go to sleep, you psycho," he said through a laugh.

She rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn't hide her smile. Not that she needed to hide her smile on the other side of the world. "I'll be awake for the race," she mumbled, her voice groggy.

"Just sleep," he said, voice soft. But it always was with her.

This was the way it always was around the Miami Grand Prix. She had the day marked in the calendar, and it couldn't come sooner.

Logan was all she had in Florida. It was pathetic, wasn't it? That he was her only friend in Florida. Without him there, she was lost. Working, sleeping. Working, sleeping. Working, sleeping.

But then Logan was back. Her best friend had returned. He was there before the rest of the grid, spent as much time as he could in Fort Lauderdale with his family.

And, of course, her.

His best friend, the one he had left behind to go out and live his life.

He'd missed her, missed her so fucking much. But he was busy. He had his family to spend time with, had a race to prepare for. No matter how hard he tried, he just didn't have time.

And that fucking sucked.

Oh well, at least their phone calls were at normal times.

(Not oh well, she really wanted to see him, really wanted to spend time with her best fucking friend).

And then Logan got mad. Maybe she was trying too hard to spend some time with him. He was a busy guy. If he could have, he would have made time for her. But he absolutely did not have time for her. And her constant insisting was getting grating.

It was stress, too. That was what had Logan shouting at her down the phone. 

It wasn't taken well, to say the least. She hung up on him, tears springing to her eyes. Fucking asshole. All she wanted to do was spend fucking time with him. Fuck that fucking asshole.

She ended up at the beach, with almost no idea how she got there. The beach was empty as she sat in the sand, but that wasn't surprising. Even spring breakers didn't stay on the beach this late. But there was something about staring at the waves as they crashed against the sand.

Of course, Logan felt incredibly guilty about losing his shit at her. He stared down at his phone for a good minute before he tried to call her back.

He tried again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

Eventually he bit the bullet, got into his car and headed to his house. He didn't see her own car in the drive, but didn't let that bother him as he climbed out and knocked on the door.

He should have guessed that she wasn't there. It made sense the more he thought about it, where else was her car?

If her parents knew where she was, they would have told him. But Logan could take a guess. He climbed back into his car, backed out of the drive, and headed to the beach.

When Logan saw her, his heart dropped.

She hadn't done this in years, and it had never been his fault. When they were kids he'd sit there with her. He'd let her sit with her head on his shoulder, he'd drive her home after. And now she was there and it was his fault. 

Slowly, Logan climbed out of his car. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he headed towards her.

Even kicking the sand, she didn't hear him. Not until he was sitting down beside her, copying her pose. Logan opened his mouth, ready to apologise.

But he didn't get that far.

"Do you ever feel so... out of place?" She wasn't looking at him, instead looking at the reflection of the moon on the water. "Like everyone else has left you behind?"

Logan sucked in a breath. After a year on the grid, it was a feeling he knew all too well. Hesitantly, he placed his arms over her shoulders. "Maybe you should leave Fort Lauderdale." His voice came out as more of a mumble, a struggle to hear. "You know, travel for a while."

She sucked in a shuddering breath. "Where the hell would I go, Logan?" She spat. But her head fell forward. "I didn't mean to say it like that."

"No, it's okay." he squeezed her tighter. "You could come stay in London with me, come travelling to races with me. God knows I miss the fuck out of you when you're not here."

The noise she made was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Come stay with you? Are you serious?"

He nodded.

She leaned back, digging her palms into the sand. "Okay, Logie Bear, I'll take you up on it. Just... try not to fall in love with me."

It was a joke, of course it was a joke. Why else would she have said it like that?

"No promises," he mumbled, voice barely audible as he pulled her closer.

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee

[merthosus]

Hi! Do you mind doing like an angsty fluff with Diego where you finally meet him again in the 60s at Elliot’s after he’s been stuck at the mental institution, but somethings off, he’s got someone else glued to his hip.

Meeting again

Summary: You were the last sibling, landing onto your feet, infront of a usual looking ally. The first thing, which came to your mind was finding the others, especially Diego. But little did you know, after finding him you wish you never did.

Thank you for your lovely request, even tho it broke my heart! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“She’s… we’ve been through a lot together”

After getting brutally teleported into a different timeline, falling out of two meters onto hard concrete and getting cat-called by multiple old man on the streets, your day already was ruined. Thinking that it couldn't get any worse was understandable but at the same time so wrong. It got worse, it got incredibly worse.

You were on a hunt. `your prey?', you may ask. A six foot tall, handsome (you would never tell him that, his ego is big enough), and amazingly accurate knife throwing man. It was difficult to overlook him. You were kind of disappointed, that he didn't make you a trail out of knifes like in Hensel and Gretel. Something like that would have made it easier to find him. But as you knew him, everywhere he stepped a foot, he left a mark. Involuntary most times.

34 days later...

You’ve been searching for Diego for what feels like forever, a gnawing worry in your gut that only grew with each passing day. When you finally heard that he’d been taken to a mental institution after landing in the 60s, your heart dropped. The relief of knowing he was alive was quickly overshadowed by the fear of what he’d been through.

The day you finally walk into Elliot’s place, you spot him immediately. Your heart leaps at the sight of him—alive, whole, and so achingly familiar. But something’s off. He’s not alone. There’s a woman glued to his side, her hand resting on his arm as if it belongs there. She’s talking to him, and he’s smiling down at her, a softness in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen directed at you.

You freeze in the doorway, the world tilting on its axis. The Diego you know would have come running to you, would have swept you into his arms without a second thought. But this Diego just glances up, his eyes widening in surprise, then flicking back to the woman beside him. It’s like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and disoriented.“Diego?” Your voice is small, uncertain, as if you’re not sure if this is really happening. His gaze finally locks onto yours, and for a moment, you see the Diego you know—the one who fought for you, who would do anything to keep you safe. But then he steps back, putting a small distance between the two of you, as if he’s unsure of how to bridge the gap that’s formed between you.

“Y/N,” he says, your name coming out in a breath, like he’s been holding it in this whole time. But his tone is guarded, almost hesitant, and it breaks your heart a little more. The woman at his side looks between the two of you, confusion and maybe a hint of understanding dawning on her face. You force yourself to smile, but it feels brittle. “It’s good to see you,” you say, even though every part of you is screaming that this isn’t right. That something has changed, something you don’t know if you can fix.

Diego glances at the woman beside him, then back at you. “This is Lila,” he introduces, and there’s something in the way he says her name that makes your stomach churn. “She’s… she helped me get out of the hospital.” “Helped?” The word comes out sharper than you intended, and you see Diego flinch. Lila doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care. She smiles at you, and it’s almost too easy, too friendly. “Yeah, helped,” Diego replies, his voice softer now, like he’s trying to ease you into something you’re not ready to hear. “She’s… we’ve been through a lot together.”

The unspoken words hang in the air between you, and you can feel your heart cracking just a little more with each passing second. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you manage to say, even though your voice trembles. Diego’s eyes soften, and for a brief moment, it’s just the two of you again, like it used to be. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, and you know he means it, but there’s still that barrier between you, the one you’re not sure how to cross.

Lila touches his arm, and the moment shatters. “We should go,” she says, looking up at Diego, and he nods, though he looks back at you as if he wants to say something more. “Yeah,” he agrees, and the word feels like a goodbye. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice. You watch as they walk away, side by side, and it feels like your heart is being wrenched out of your chest. But just before they disappear, Diego glances back at you one last time, and in his eyes, you see it—the regret, the confusion, the love he’s trying so hard to push down. And you know, deep down, that this isn’t the end. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting like hell.

Alright I will go cry now but still thanks for the request :)

[bellaveux]

i adored the soft college au wanda she’s so cute :(( may i request smth along the lines of r and wanda not going public yet because r is nervous but there’s still nat trying to pursue her and wanda gets jelly and clingy ? fluff or hurt/comfort pls ty <3

ALL I NEED TO HEAR | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: when fellow classmate, natasha romanoff, has her eyes set on you, wanda struggles to hide her jealousy.

content warnings: hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, college au!, jealous!wanda, soft!wanda, minor natasha romanoff x reader, jealousy, insecurity, kissing

word count: 5.5k

note: do not ask me why this took me a whole month to write!! i’m so so sorry for the long wait but here it is finally! i hope u like it :> (i meant to do fluff along with hurt/comfort but as i was writing it turned more angsty *thumbs up*)

In the bustling college lecture hall, amidst the hum of anticipation and the eager shuffle of notebooks, Wanda couldn't help but steal glances in your direction. Her heart swelled with a tender longing, a yearning she struggled to suppress as she looked at you as you were intently listening to the professor. Each stolen gaze only deepened her appreciation for your beauty, igniting an unspoken fascination that seemed to vibrate through her very core. Every fine detail, from your sculpted cheekbones to the way your lips formed a gentle smile, held an intoxicating allure that effortlessly captivated Wanda's senses. It was a magnetic force, an enchantment that dared Wanda to surrender to her desires. As rays of golden sunlight danced through the tall, arched windows, they gently caressed your countenance, illuminating your flawless features with an otherworldly glow. Wanda, with her heart in awe, marveled at the graceful curve of your delicate jawline, the gentle curve of your supple lips, and the sparkle in your eyes as you keep your attention towards the professor in the front of the room.

Yet, in the face of this consuming temptation, Wanda exercised incredible self-control. She wanted to touch you. To feel you. To kiss you. To show everyone that you were hers, just as she was yours. She fought the urges that surged within her, understanding the sanctity of personal space and the importance of boundaries, being mindful of your decision to keep everything subtle and on the down low. Her hands, adorned with delicate silver rings, just itched to trace the contours of your visage, to feel the warmth of your skin beneath her fingertips.

But Wanda wasn’t the only one who seemed to admire you. No, there was someone else—someone sitting far, multiple seats down the lecture hall, eyes trained on you for much longer than Wanda liked. A hint of uneasiness coursed through her veins. Her captivating gaze was momentarily drawn to a woman named Natasha, who sat in a distant corner of the curved row of the lecture hall, far from your shared space. Natasha, an enigmatic figure with an aura of magnetism, possessed an allure that stirred Wanda's heart, igniting an unwelcome sense of jealousy. Though she knew your loyalty was steadfast, the persistent glances exchanged between Natasha and her beloved fueled a flicker of insecurity within Wanda's soul.

“She’s staring at you,” Wanda whispers quietly, the tips of her fingers softly fiddling with your free hand under the long table.

You shake your head slightly, all too familiar with Wanda’s regular signs of jealousy. You pull your hand away to write on the blank sticky note sticking onto your of her notebook saying: ‘ignore her.’ Wanda sighs in return and rolls her eyes at the piece of paper. After a beat, she huffs and leans back into her seat, beginning to nibble lightly on her bottom lip as her patience wore thin.

“Kind of hard not to,” she replied, tone laced with bitterness.

Wanda subtly places a hand on your thigh, close to your knee, underneath the table, wanting to touch in some way—almost as if she was reminding herself that you were hers, and if Natasha could see, that would be even better.

The pout that shows up on her face doesn’t go unnoticed as you move her hand away from you with a shy smile, “Wanda, they’ll see.”

“Sorry,” she sighed again, putting her head down against her arm on the desk as she glanced over at the other redhead who did nothing but keep her eyes on you. “It’s just annoying to me… that she’s staring.”

You chose to tune out Wanda’s jealous complaints, paying attention to the professor at the front of the room. As the professor's words flowed through the lecture hall like a gentle breeze, your unwavering focus became a testament to your dedication. Your nimble fingers gracefully danced across the pages of your notebook, capturing the essence of each scholarly utterance in a tapestry of meticulous notes. Meanwhile, Wanda, sitting still right next to you with an otherworldly charm, exhibited her annoyance by tapping her pen against the wooden surface of the desk.

Wanda seemed to get distracted once again, something she couldn’t quite control all by herself, so you decided to let her sneak soft touches of her hand on your thigh, tender and elusive, spoke a language only you could decipher—a language of intimacy and shared understanding. Her fingertips, grazed the softness of your thighs, traveling up towards the hem of your skirt—the one you decided to wear was especially pretty on you that not touching you became an impossible task. It almost didn’t feel fair, for her to hide the fact that this pretty woman, you, were not hers. She’d shout it to the world when she could, when you’d let her, whenever you were ready to.

After a while, the final bell resounds throughout the room, marking the end of another day of intellectual exploration, your delicate features transform with an unmistakable sense of serenity. The waning rays of sunlight, filtering through the slats of the partially drawn blinds, dance upon the mahogany desk, illuminating the array of meticulously arranged notebooks and pens that have been your steadfast companions throughout your entire academic voyage. With deliberate grace, Wanda watched as you reach out, your nimble fingers gathering your supplies and shoving them into your bag.

You were so pretty in everything you did that Wanda would never tire herself as she watched you. She was glad to call you hers, even though the people around her didn’t know it yet. To everyone else, the two of you were best friends, glued to each other, roommates sharing the same apartment, but nothing more. And Wanda continued to wait for the day when you would be ready to show everyone.

As Wanda sat still and poised in her chair while students squeezed themselves out of the door to head to their next classes, her eyes caught a flicker of unease. With an air of intrigue and curiosity, her gaze fixated on the elegant figure that graced the space, coming closer and closer to where the two of you were sitting. As Natasha began a deliberate stride, weaving through the sea of desks and students, Wanda's eyes narrowed—a kaleidoscope of emotions swirled within her, a potent concoction of jealousy, apprehension, and a burning desire to unravel Natasha's intentions. What does she want now? A tremor of uncertainty danced upon Wanda's delicate features.

“Hey, (y/n), you look beautiful today… like always,” she smiled that charming smile of hers, an action that would usually have others swooning for her. “Just wanted to check in. We still on for later?”

You ignored the compliment, one of many, and took a quick glance at Natasha, offering her a tiny, friendly smile as you packed your things, “Uh, yeah, 4:30, right?”

“Yeah, at the library,” she nodded before looking past you for a brief moment to smirk at the other redhead who had been eyeing her since class started. “Wanda.”

“Natasha,” your girlfriend greeted bitterly.

After a beat, Natasha cleared her throat and put her eyes on you once more, “Alright, well, I’ll see you, hon.”

Wanda glared at her as she walked away, biting the inside of her cheek as annoyance fueled in her chest. It was in those ephemeral moments that a tempest brews and Wanda finds herself grappling with the tumultuous waves of jealousy. Like a veil, thin and delicate, but bearing an invisible weight, her discontent unfolds, entwining her thoughts with insecurities.

Natasha and her had never really been close—not when they both fancied the same girl. It was always a fight for your attention, and now, a fight to keep the third party away from you.

“I don’t know if I feel good about you going later,” Wanda mutters so quietly under her breath, you almost didn’t catch it.

You give her a soft look, hoping to reassure her somewhat with a light smile, “It won’t be long, Wanda. And I won’t be the only one there, remember?”

“I know. That’s not what I’m worried about. I just…” Wanda paused and looked into your eyes for a moment, practically using all of her strength to keep herself from leaning into your touch. “Just text me later. I’ll pick you up.”

Wanda watches you nod, bringing your hand up to give your shoulder a gentle and reassuring squeeze. You want so badly to kiss her, to remind her how much you love her, if only you weren’t too scared to show everyone your relationship with her.

As the time reached about almost forty minutes past four, you found yourself enveloped in a quiet study session, diligently engaged with a select group of classmates, immersed in a collective pursuit of finishing this class project. The light of the setting sun delicately filtered through the grand windows, casting a warm glow upon the diligent scholars. Textbooks, notebooks, and scattered papers adorned the table, bearing witness to their ardent quest for knowledge. As the ethereal scent of books permeated the air, your focus was unyielding, your mind attuned to the intricacies of the project at hand.

But within the depths of your intellectual fervor, a gentle longing tugged at your heart. You can’t help but think of her, Wanda, tiptoeing through your mind, like a melody echoing in your soul. In your mind's eye, you yearned for Wanda's presence, her soothing embrace, and the way her eyes sparkled with encouragement. You envisioned Wanda's tender touch as if it were the guiding light that fueled your fire. And while you wanted to get the work done as soon as possible, you couldn’t help but think of her.

You wondered what she was up to right now. Maybe, in your shared apartment, she was napping, studying on her own, watering her plants, or cooking dinner… Whatever she did, it always put a smile on your face.

“Hey, why are you smiling?”

It was a small whisper that only you could hear, coming from your right. You cleared your throat and took in your surroundings once more, noticing that Natasha was sitting next to you, doing some research on her laptop for anything useful to add to the project you worked together on for another class with a couple of other students.

You shake your head and whispered back, “I’m not smiling.”

Natasha scoffed playfully, “Well, smiling or not… You look pretty.”

The compliment didn’t phase you one bit. Instead, you turned your head to look at Natasha, who sported a smug smile as she looked at you. You were accustomed to the delicate dance of adoration orchestrated by Natasha, whose flattery and flirtatious overtures had become as predictable as the sun's rise. Yet, within your eyes lay a quiet strength, a spirit unyielding to the allure of superficial charm. Though Natasha's words, like sweet melodies, danced upon your ears, they fell upon a heart unmoved, resilient in its pursuit of genuine connection. It didn’t mean anything—not when you were loved by the woman you adored the most, when you had the most caring girlfriend waiting for you at home.

Natasha's advances, though flattering to the world's eye, did little to stir your heart, as it was already enveloped in a love so pure and profound that it painted every fiber of your being with colors of contentment. You, ever graceful and empathetic, offered Natasha kindness and friendship, cherishing the genuine connection you two shared, but resolutely protecting the love you held so dear. Wanda.

“Finish your work, Nat,” you say simply before turning your head away from her.

You could feel the redhead smiling in defeat, returning back to her laptop, the sounds of her fingers typing away on her keyboard filled the room.

As you delved deep into your project at the library, your once zealous spirit began to wane, and weariness settled in your bones. The weight of countless hours spent pouring over research and refining ideas bore down on you, urging you to seek solace beyond the confines of the library. Restlessness tugged at your thoughts as you yearned for the comfort of home and the embrace of your girlfriend.

She had been texting you quite a lot while you were here. And, “a lot” was practically an understatement.

She texted you minutes before you got to the library, then again after you sat down at a table, and again when you took your supplies out, and even more when you began working, up until now, right when you began to pack everything up. She kept telling you that she misses you so much and asked how long you were going to be there. She also went on about telling you to tell her if Natasha was doing anything to make you uncomfortable, checking to make sure you were okay, and asking quite a number of times if she should pick you up now.

And, you understood why. You understood her eagerness to talk to you as she was never good at hiding her jealousy which led to her clinging onto you in any way, whether it was texting you, talking to you, holding you, or touching you. Anything.

The vibrant colors of the library's surroundings dulled in your eyes as your focus shifted from the intellectual pursuit to the emotional embrace you craved. Thoughts of Wanda wrapped around your weary mind like a comforting shawl, igniting a renewed sense of purpose and drive. You sent her a quick text as soon as you were finished, telling her you were ready for her to pick you up, to which she replied that she was on her way almost immediately.

Your group of classmates walked out of the library, right into the chilly air, bidding their farewells and wishing each other luck for the presentation that was due in a couple of days time. They each left one by one until it was just you and Natasha left standing by the entrance doors.

“It’s a little cold out. I can take you home if you’d like,” Natasha says, shoving her hands into her jacket’s pocket.

You adjusted the bag hanging off your shoulder reluctantly, glancing over to the redhead, “Uh, Wanda’s already on her way, so… but, thanks, Natasha.”

“Right,” she says quickly, almost as if she knew what you were going to say.

She was quiet now. Uncharacteristically quiet. A mixture of excitement and apprehension coursed through Natasha’s veins as if every nerve in her body had suddenly been awakened. Despite her usual confidence, Natasha couldn't help but feel an unexpected wave of unease wash over her. Just as she was clueless about your relationship with Wanda, she found it hard to fight for your attention against her. Any of her words crashed into brick walls as she tried to flirt with you and it only made her want to have you more, even when you had told her that you weren’t interested. She didn’t know why, but she liked to think you’d end up liking her eventually.

“There’s… There’s this new Italian restaurant that opened. In downtown, by the bridge,” she starts, watching you closely for you your reaction. “Would you like to go try it with me sometime?”

You see Wanda’s car turning into the lot up ahead as she said those words. A sigh escapes your lips before you turn slightly to look at Natasha, “As friends?”

Natasha chuckles and drops her head down in defeat, knowing very well what your answer would be, after countless attempts and rejections. Her eyes lock onto Wanda’s car as well after bringing her head back up slowly.

“Your chariot awaits,” Natasha nods her head towards the car that pulls up right in front of the two of you.

You give Natasha a small smile before beginning your walk, “Have a good night, Nat. Drive safe.”

Natasha smiles in return, watching you step away. You get into Wanda’s car smoothly, greeting your girlfriend as a sense of relief washes over you.

As you settled comfortably into the passenger seat, your eyes met Wanda's, but instead of the warm welcome you expected, you noticed a flicker of annoyance and jealousy. Wanda's features, usually so radiant and full of affection, were clouded with a hint of unease. Your heart sank as you realized the source of Wanda's distress—Natasha, the persistent pursuer. A tumultuous mixture of guilt and longing swirled within your chest as you searched for the right words to soothe Wanda's troubled heart.

“Baby, let’s go home,” you say softly, your hand subtly ghosting over hers over the heartsick. “I’m tired.”

Wanda blinks and her eyes dart from Natasha, who stood still by the library doors waiting for the two of you to leave, over to you. Her eyes soften as soon as she looked at you.

“Okay,” she nods softly, before turning her head to the front, starting her drive back to your shared apartment.

As Wanda gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white with tension, an unusual silence enveloped the car. The soft hum of the engine provided a gentle backdrop to the muffled thoughts swirling in her mind. Casting a quick glance towards you, she noticed her girlfriend's serene expression, unaware of the storm brewing within Wanda's heart. Determined to shield you from her internal turmoil, Wanda reached out, intertwining her fingers with yours, seeking solace in your touch.

Wanda didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the drive home. She kept her hand locked in yours right over your lap, occasionally using her thumb to smooth over your thigh so gently that you wanted to kiss her right then and there.

The drive didn’t last long as Wanda made it her task to rush home where the two of you would finally be alone, where she could have you all to yourself.

With the click of the front door, you stepped into the serene refuge of your shared apartment, an oasis of tranquility and familiarity. A palpable sense of relief washed over you, permeating the air as you shed the weight of the outside world from your shoulders. The soft glow of warm lamplight in your living room enveloped the space, casting a gentle ambiance that mirrored your contentment. As the two of you kicked off your shoes, a collective sigh escaped your lips, releasing the tension that had accumulated throughout the day.

You went about the evening as usual. Wanda made dinner before picking you up and you ate together. As the meal drew to a close, your determined gaze shifted to the pile of books and papers scattered across a nearby desk. With a sense of purpose, you excused herself and retreated to your work, placing a small kiss on the top of Wanda’s head, leaving her to her own devices. You told her you had to check up on some of your work just in case, not wanting to leave any mistakes on your part of the project. She watched you for a bit as you went to work before turning the television on to watch that cute old sitcom she loved so much.

Wanda's eyes occasionally flickered towards you, filled with admiration and understanding. She reveled in the sight of your unwavering dedication, recognizing the passion that fueled your late-night endeavors. At the same time, she wanted to pull you away from your work, keep you all to herself, kiss you all night long. Their cozy apartment was awash in the warm glow of lamplight, casting a soft ambiance upon the room. Wanda, feeling a sense of contentment, nestled herself on the plush couch, watching her show, patiently awaiting you to finish.

When you do finish, you excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to refresh before bed. Sensing a subtle ache in her heart, Wanda couldn't bear the thought of being separated, even for a moment. With a surge of affection and longing, she quietly followed you into the bathroom, unable to resist the magnetic pull that drew her towards you.

Inside the bathroom, the air was filled with the soothing scent of lavender, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. You stood by the sink, ready to wash off your face and brush your teeth. Wanda, unable to contain her yearning any longer, approached you, her eyes reflecting a deep longing. Your gazes met in the mirror, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Without wasting another second, Wanda's arms found their way around you, enveloping you in a gentle embrace. The warmth radiated through your bodies, your closeness a source of comfort and reassurance.

“Hey,” you smiled at her through the mirror, listening to her breathe against your neck. Although, your smile faded slowly as she didn’t answer. “What’s wrong?”

Wanda shook her head slightly, tightening her hold around your waist, “Nothing.”

“Wanda.”

“I just…” Wanda sighed and pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, then one at the side of your neck, “I missed you a lot. That’s all.”

The words, gentle and delicate, struck a chord deep within your heart. A tingling sensation radiated through your being, as if every nerve ending had come alive, attuned to Wanda's every touch and breath. The weight of Wanda's absence had been temporarily lifted, only to be replaced by the overwhelming yearning that surged through your veins.

After a moment, you gently moved Wanda’s arms from your waist to turn around to face her. Wanda immediately put her arms around your frame once again as you wrapped yours around her neck. You saw her eyes flicker down to your lips, and it almost made you smile, knowing that she wanted to kiss you, but the undeniable fact that something else was bothering her interrupted your thoughts.

“What else?” you ask softly, bringing a hand up to h run your hand through her red hair. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Wanda sighed and closed her eyes—your hand in her hair, massaging her scalp relaxed her in ways nothing and no one else could.

“There’s nothing else,” she says nonchalantly, not giving in to your gentle touches that would usually urge her to do whatever you asked her to.

You pull your hand back and give her a look, a serious one that told her that you weren’t buying every bit of what she was saying.

“I’m not jealous,” she said quickly as if she could read your mind, knowing very well that that question was floating around in your head somewhere, begging to be asked.

You shook your head, “I didn’t say you were.”

You watch as Wanda sighed and dropped her head down to your shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer to her body, pressing you slightly against the counter.

In an instinctive response to the relief flooding her soul, Wanda nestled her head into the crook of your neck, seeking the familiar scent and the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat. Wanda's fingertips traced gentle patterns on your back, her hands under your shirt, drinking in the sensation of skin against skin, reveling in the closeness that had been sorely missed. Wanda's heart found respite, the ache gradually dissipating with each passing second. With a profound sense of gratitude, she clung to you, her body pressed against yours.

It took a few more moments of silence before you asked her another question.

“Is this about Natasha?” You knew the answer when Wanda didn’t move or say anything.

The air held a moment of silence as Wanda's heart wrestled with conflicting emotions. With a heavy sigh, she found herself caught between her desire for transparency and her fear of burdening you with her insecurities. A battle raged within her, but she summoned a fragile smile to her lips, masking the jealousy that had woven itself tightly around her heart.

“A little bit,” Wanda whispered reluctantly against your shoulder.

It was. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, it’s been bugging her the whole day. She wished Natasha would back off. She wished she could tell her to back off. She wished she could show her that you belonged to her, just as she belonged to you. And Wanda wanted to tell you. She wanted to voice this constant struggle of jealousy that she had been going through each time when the two of you were in the public eye, but she had to wait for you.

And she’d wait for as long as you need her to.

A heavy sense of guilt weighed upon your heart as you observed Wanda's pained expression. Though you knew you should have revealed your relationship to the world, fear had tightened its grip around you, preventing you from openly embracing your love.

Each time Wanda's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of insecurity and longing, your own heart ached with remorse. In the confines of your mind, you fervently wished for the courage to proclaim your love, to shield Wanda from the torment of doubt and protectiveness. Yet, the words remained lodged in your throat, locked away by apprehension and uncertainty.

“I’m scared of losing you to someone else,” she confessed, rubbing circles against the small of your back.

As you watched Wanda battle her internal turmoil, your desire to ease your girlfriend's worries intensified. With each passing moment, your resolve strengthened, your determination to overcome your own fears deepening. You knew that the time would come when you could no longer keep your love hidden away, for the pain inflicted upon Wanda by you and her clandestine existence was a stark reminder that love thrived when it was allowed to bloom openly, casting its vibrant hues upon the world.

“Listen to me carefully, please.” You brought both your hands up to cup Wanda’s face gently in your palms, your eyes filled with empathy and understanding, “I’m not ever leaving you. I love you, Wanda, so much. And… I know it’s hard not to, but don’t listen or think about Natasha or anyone else. She doesn’t have me… And she won’t ever have me. Only you. I belong to you.”

I have you. Your words repeated in her head.

Wanda's expression softened as she leaned into your touch, finding comfort in the warmth of your palms, “I have you.”

You smiled softly as did Wanda, “I don’t belong to anybody else.”

And as if relief washed over her worries, Wanda smiled smugly, knowing no one else has you the way she did. The heaviness that had settled in her heart dissipated like morning mist under the warm rays of the sun. Your words, spoken with tenderness and understanding, had acted as a balm to Wanda's troubled soul. With every gentle stroke of your hands against her cheek, Wanda felt the lingering tendrils of jealousy and insecurity unravel.

She saw the sincerity in your eyes, a mirror of her own love and devotion. The weight that had burdened her heart had transformed into a newfound lightness, replaced by an unwavering trust and a sense of security that only you could provide.

“I love you so much,” she said with a smile, placing a tender kiss against your forehead.

However, Wanda's smile faltered as her gaze met your tearful eyes. In that fleeting moment, the air seemed to still, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. Wanda's heart ached at the sight of your glistening tears, a stark contrast to the usual vibrant warmth that emanated from your expressive eyes. A mix of concern and tenderness etched itself onto Wanda's face as she reached out, her fingertips lightly brushing against your cheek. She yearned to understand the depth of your sorrow, to offer solace and support in any way she could, just as you did for her just a second ago.

No, no, no. Wanda started to panic as your eyes got glossier by the second, tears threatening to fall any moment now. If there was absolutely one thing Wanda hated to see, it was you crying. And if she was the reason behind your tears, she’d do everything in her power to make it right.

“Hey, hey, talk to me, baby,” Wanda pleaded, leaning down to get a closer look at your face, trying to figure it out somehow on her own. “(Y/n)… Don’t cry—I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Sorry, I– I don't– I can’t– I can’t—“

Tears streamed down your face, their cascading path tracing the contours of your anguish. Each sob that wracked your body seemed to tear through the tranquility of the room, filling the air with a symphony of heartache.

Wanda stood frozen, her heart sinking as she witnessed your tear-streaked face, overcome with a depth of sorrow she had never seen before. Wanda's chest tightened with an overwhelming surge of emotions, her own eyes welling up with unshed tears. The sight of your vulnerability shook Wanda to her core.

As your cries grew louder, Wanda's immediate thought was to provide solace, to offer a safe haven within her arms. Without hesitation, she pulled you close once more, holding you with unwavering strength and tenderness. Your sobs found refuge in the curve of Wanda's neck, the soft fabric of Wanda's shirt absorbing your tears as her hand smoothed over the back of your head repeatedly. Wanda whispered soothing words, her voice a gentle balm to your wounded spirit, assuring you that you were not alone, that you would weather the storm together. Always.

When your sobs died down to soft labored breathing, Wanda moved to place soft kisses down against your temple, then over to your tear-stained cheeks, wiping her thumb over them in the process.

“I’m sorry,” she heard you say.

“For what, baby?”

“For being too afraid… to tell everyone. I know you’ve been waiting and that it hurts to wait. And watch, and hide. But, I’m… I’m still…” You found it hard to breathe as you spoke, not exactly meeting Wanda in her eyes, scared of what she might say.

“I know. It’s okay,” she didn’t let you finish. She already knew. Wanda’s heart ached when you still didn’t move to meet her eyes, so she repeated her words. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Wanda's touch became an anchor of solace, her fingertips tracing soothing paths along your back. With each delicate caress, Wanda poured her love and compassion into her gestures, whispering soft reassurances that echoed like a soothing lullaby. The warmth of her connection enveloped you, creating a haven where vulnerability was met with understanding and acceptance. In this intimate moment, Wanda's touch spoke volumes, conveying a depth of empathy that words alone could not capture.

“Everything will be okay,” Wanda told you, kissing your temple once again. “I will be patient. I’ll wait a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade… a century. Whenever you’re ready to. I’ll be there. You have me, too, (Y/n). I’m not going anywhere.”

Wanda used her hands to turn your face towards her, forcing you to look at her.

As you gazed into her eyes, you found yourself captivated by the depth and intensity within them. The windows to Wanda's soul revealed a profound sincerity and unwavering devotion that surpasses any spoken words. In the gentle flicker of candlelight, you witness a kaleidoscope of emotions reflected in Wanda's eyes—love, adoration, and an unspoken promise of a lifetime together.

“Did you hear me?” Wanda asked, using her finger to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I heard you,” you smiled softly, sniffling cutely as you moved to lay your head against her chest. “I love you.”

Wanda smiled again, hands moving downwards to your waist, as a surge of overwhelming love cascaded through her being, filling every inch of her being with a profound sense of warmth and contentment. In that tender embrace, time seemed to stand still, and the outside world faded into insignificance. The soft curve of your back molded perfectly against Wanda's chest, as if you were two puzzle pieces destined to fit together. The steady rise and fall of your breath against her own served as a rhythmic reminder of their intimate connection. Wanda moved to bury her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, a scent that held the essence of home. She felt the steady beat of your heart beneath her fingertips, a steady cadence that echoed the unwavering love that bound them.

“I can kiss you now, right?” Wanda mumbled into your neck. “I’ve been waiting all day.”

Your girlfriend couldn’t fight the smile that crept up on her face as your lips turned up into a smile as well, “Kiss me, then.”

“Oh, I will,” she said with a smirk, hands running up and down your waist, feeling you in her hands.

And she did. In that timeless space between breaths, Wanda leaned in, capturing your soft, quivering lips with her own. The world seemed to stand still as your mouths fused in a passionate dance of love and understanding. The taste of your tears mingled, but it was the sweetness of your love that prevailed, a balm that soothed both your souls. As you lingered in the embrace, your lips locked, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the profound beauty of your love.

She loved you forever. And she made sure to prove it to you the whole night, and many more nights to come.

— navigation!

[hard-core-super-star]

underneath my skin [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate bishop x reader

summary: it takes a few tries but after kate shows up unannounced at wanda's cabin, you finally make things right.

warnings: technically none?; still angsty but with a happier ending than last time; stubborn idiots in love being stubborn and in love; minor injuries + blood mentions; kate being a little immature shit and R being fed up; a surprising lack of hot vampire things AGAIN; too many references to the previous parts

wordcount: 3k

a/n: yes, hi, i know last time i said i was going to make the next vampire kate installment smutty but…my hand slipped and i focused on the plot too much 😅 i love this dynamic too much! BUT MARK MY WORDS, next part WILL be smut! [i’m a little rusty though so bear with me] anyway, i’m slowly but surely finding my rhythm again and i hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

part one | part two | part four

* * * * * * *

You had been expecting a lot of things to happen today. 

Wanda was going to teach you another spell, you were probably going to end up oversharing about something to get her to spill more information about Westview to satiate your curiosity, and then you’d both argue about which one of you two used magic to make sure the overwatered crops in the backyard don’t die (it was definitely you).

It was going to be a fun, normal, day full of the normal things that make up your new routine. And it was surely not going to feature Kate Bishop in any way.

Except Kate decided to ruin all your plans by showing up outside your door.

You wish you could say you’re surprised but the archer’s favorite hobby is messing up your plans and making you question far too many things. 

“y/n.” Her voice is incredibly soft despite the shock that paints it. “...hey.”

You couldn't hold back the laugh that escapes you if you tried. “Hey? That’s your opener?”

There’s a lack of annoyance in your voice that clearly catches her off-guard. Her nervousness is as endearing as always despite the wounds she caused that haven’t closed yet. 

“I don’t really know what else to say…”

You’re about to make fun of her when Wanda appears behind you. You feel her presence before you hear her voice and for a second, it’s like you can hear her warning you not to get too attached to Kate’s annoyingly charming habits. 

Wanda has a point, of course she does, but you trust your heart even less than you trust the archer with it. Kate doesn’t even have to do anything for a part of you to yell at you to throw everything to the wind and go with her.

Go where exactly? That wasn’t as clear. 

Of course, you could go back to New York but what’s the use? Just because it’s been a few months since the scandal broke out doesn’t mean you can go back to your old life. Back to the casual “not a relationship but more than a friendship” thing you and Kate had going on.

The witch’s hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you comply with her unspoken request. Whatever Kate needs doesn’t have anything to do with you. Leaving before she can sink her teeth into you again is the smart move.

So, you move away and let Wanda and Kate talk out on the front porch. You do your best not to listen in to their conversation but you do overhear something about The Avengers and Clint asking for the Sokovian’s witchy help.

You do your best to remind yourself the archer didn’t come here for you. She probably didn’t even know you were here. She doesn’t need you and you don’t need her…right?

You wish it was true. Maybe if it was true, you would be able to stay away from her. 

Unfortunately, Kate is just as bad as you when it comes to walking away from self-destructive choices.

Wanda managed to get her to leave without you stopping her but she couldn’t stop the archer from getting into trouble once she was gone. Despite the Sokovian’s insistence that her cabin was incredibly far from other people, you both knew there was a small town not too far away. 

A town that a certain archer ended up stumbling into.

Thankfully, Wanda had locked herself in her room with the Darkhold which meant she didn’t notice when Kate came back hours later to knock on your window. 

The sound scared the crap out of you and yet you approached, a part of you longing to see her despite what a downright horrible idea it was bound to be. 

You opened your window and came face to face with an out-of-breath Kate Bishop, her face littered with small scratches and a prominent bruise on her jaw. “Hey.”

“...hi?” 

Her attempt at playing it cool fails miserably when she flinches at the tone in your voice. You’re not exactly mad but you’re not thrilled and the disappointment in your features breaks her facade quicker than you’ve ever witnessed. 

It’s like you can see her trying to retreat before she fucks things up but you’ll be damned if you let her walk away from you now. “What’d you do this time?”

Your voice seems to relax the tension in her body somewhat. “I um…may need some help.”

“That wasn’t the question, Katherine.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the face she makes but you manage. If you had a nickel for every time she got annoyed by your use of her full name, you’d be a few coins away from catching up to her fortune.

“Can I come in or not?” She asks. It’s obvious she’s trying to hold on to those bits of annoyance despite the growing smirk on her lips.

A beat of silence passes, and a voice in your head tells you you’ll only get hurt again before you notice the way she’s holding her side. You try to not give in to the overwhelming wave of worry that crashes into you at once. 

 “Sure, just try not to make too much noise. Wanda won’t hesitate to kick you out.” Your attempt at humor falls flat, which isn’t at all surprising, but you help her climb through your window anyway.

She stumbles a little and you bite back your teasing comments once you notice the blood on her clothes. You had to stop finding yourself in situations like these with her. 

Vulnerability and Kate Bishop do not mix well…especially when she’s standing in front of you with that stupid puppy dog look she wears so well.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, half-hoping she won’t hear you.

She does, though, considering the way her nervous smile turns into a smirk.

Some things never change.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t realize my ‘I just got shot’ face turned you on so much.”

It’s easier to hide your genuine concern when she’s so busy being…her usual annoying self. “You’re an asshole.”

Kate rolls her eyes, a frustrated sound escaping her. “You’re one to talk.”

You’re not sure what exactly she’s referencing but it’s not like the list is particularly long. You could be mature and respond but the archer isn’t the face of maturity either so you ignore her words and move on.

“Do you want help or not?”

She shrugs, because of course she’d make things harder than they need to be, but the movement makes her wince. The sudden pain seems to reset her brain, and her attitude, because she nods without putting up any more of a fight. “Yeah, I think the bullet just grazed me but it hurts like a bitch.”

Your hands reach out for her before you can stop them. Your fingers graze the hem of her shirt when you snap out of your trance, your mind filling with unwanted memories about the night that started all your problems.

“You can take it off.” Her soft voice startles you out of your thoughts and you look up to meet her eyes. When the hell did she get so close to you, anyway? “I don’t bite.”

You let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Despite the tension and uncertainty that still lingers, Kate offers you a smile. A real, amused, one. Not a smirk and not the cocky smile that makes you want to kiss her and slap her at the same time. It’s a warm smile, tinted by a nostalgia only the two of you can really understand.

“Okay, fine…I don’t bite without consent,” she corrects herself. “And I…haven’t done it since that night.”

You assume the comment is her trying to be charming in her borderline awkward way even though all it does is worry you more. Of course, you weren’t an expert on vampires by any means but you knew not feeding for so long couldn’t be a good thing…and suddenly the way she’s been swaying without noticing makes too much sense.

“You’re so stupid,” you mumble under your breath. 

If Kate hears you, she doesn’t say anything about your words which thankfully allows you to help her remove her shirt without any further distractions. It takes all your self-restraint to keep your eyes from trailing down and admiring the skin that’s been revealed. 

You force yourself to focus on her side and the wound she’s been trying to hide since she got here. There’s still some annoyance burning under the surface even as you try to help. “Move your hand. I can’t help you otherwise.”

She grumbles something you don’t quite catch under her breath before finally moving her hand away and revealing her skin. Despite her insistence that she had only been grazed by a bullet, she looked worse for wear.

“Jesus, Kate, what happened to you?” You don’t miss the way she shivers as your fingers trace her side.

She doesn’t answer and you resign yourself to the clear lack of answers you’ll be getting tonight. 

Your eyes silently inspect her irritated skin and you curse under your breath when you notice an infection is already starting to spread. Knowing her, she had probably gotten hurt earlier in the day and completely wrote it off as nothing until the pain became too unbearable.

To make matters worse, she stumbles again and this time, you have no choice but to wrap your arms around her waist and pull her into you. She’s the one who curses this time and your heart aches from how strained and pained her voice sounds.

It’s hard but you manage to bite back your constructive criticism at her ridiculously stupid, albeit not surprising, tendencies. You manage to lead her to your bed and she sits down without any complaints (something that’s quite surprising).

“Kate,” you say, your voice so quiet it startles you. “Your silence is starting to worry me.”

She makes a soft sound that you assume is meant to be a chuckle. “You still worry about me?”

“Only when you show up outside my window like a weirdo.” 

Your eyes meet hers for a second and you swear the usual sparkles in her eyes are laced with panic. Every cell in your being aches to comfort her but you don’t dare move yet. 

You wish you could forgive and forget, that you could move past what happened between you and start again, but you can’t. At least not if she won’t help you. Then again, it’s not like you’re in any position to make demands. Maybe it was Kate who pushed you away but you’re the one who severed your connection with the vampire.

You’re the one who crossed a line you’re not sure you can come back from. For better or for worse.

“Why are you worried anyway?” The disappointment in her tone doesn’t escape you. “Don’t you have a spell to fix this or something?”

There it is.

For some reason, out of all the reasons Kate had to be mad at you, this one was at the bottom of the list in your mind. 

“I don’t do that stuff anymore,” you reply, doing your best to ignore the incredulous look on her face.

“That’s such bullshit.” She scoffs.

You busy yourself with the task at hand, kneeling in front of her and inwardly cringing at the way your heart skips a beat due to the position. You don’t miss the way Kate spreads her legs to allow you to shift closer, though, and that only makes everything worse.

“What are you talking about?” You know damn well what she’s talking about but you play dumb anyway. Your hands clumsily reach for the first aid kit you stashed inside the drawer of the bedside table and you silently thank Wanda for her overprotective suggestion. 

“Oh, come on, y/n!” A shiver that isn’t due to the cold air coming in from the now open window runs down your spine. “I know you used magic to cut our connection and I know damn well Wanda didn’t do it on her own. Do you seriously think I don’t know about that spell? I’m not the only vampire in my family.”

“But you’re definitely the most stubborn one,” you mumble.

You miss the roll of her eyes but not the frustrated sigh that leaves her lips. You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation with Kate that didn’t end with the two of you arguing about something. Sure, it had been part of your dynamic at some point but now it only serves as a reminder of why you two will never work again.

Her eyes follow your movements as you reach for an antiseptic wipe and start disinfecting the area around the wound. You’re expecting her to complain about the stinging sensation but she doesn’t.

For the first time since you met her, Kate Bishop genuinely surprises you.

“I’m not mad, you know?” Her soft words break the tension-filled silence your lack of response left behind. “Well, I was at first but…I understand why you did it…why you had to get away from me.”

The urge to ignore her is incredibly strong and yet a part of you longs to make things right. Or as right as they possibly can be considering your history together.

“That’s not why I did it.” You frown once your eyes catch sight of the multitude of scars and unhealed cuts that litter the rest of Kate’s torso. “I was just…tired of pretending.”

“Am I that bad of a kisser?” The humor in her voice helps remove some of the tension in your shoulders. It’s obvious she’s merely trying to deflect but you chuckle in response anyway.

You allow a calm silence to fill the room while you focus on disinfecting and wrapping up the wound. Focusing proves to be difficult, however, when one of her hands lands on your shoulder and she grips you hard enough to leave nail indents in your skin.

The sensation does help you swallow back your anxieties so you don’t complain…at least for the moment. 

You make a mental note to ask Wanda for the recipe of the herbal remedy she always uses to fight off infections as you finish bandaging the archer up.

You’re almost out of the woods when your fingers accidentally find a certain scar on Kate’s other side. It’s subtle but the change in texture gives away what it is without you having to look.

Kate interrupts your train of thought before your eyes can join your fingers in examining the memory forever carved into her skin. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Your eyes drift up to her face and your breath catches in your throat once you become aware of the position you’re in. She notices your reaction but you respond before that stupid smirk can finish spreading along her lips.

“It’s only fair, you didn’t answer a single one of mine,” you point out.

“Your questions were stupid.” She shrugs and you hate that you can tell she’s doing it again. She’s hiding behind the persona she wears so well. The one that doesn’t care about what anyone else thinks despite the fact that Kate Bishop is the embodiment of empathy.

Of love.

The aching in your chest grows stronger. 

“And you asking if you’re a bad kisser isn’t stupid?” You raise an eyebrow at her but she seems unbothered by your stare.

“Of course not, it’s important information.”

Her smirk is back again and unfortunately, so is your urge to kiss her so hard she’ll shut up for once. The desperation that lingers in that thought startles you even though it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how you still feel for her.

You’re not a gambler but you would bet everything you have that Kate feels the same way you do. It’s almost like you can see the struggle in her eyes. It’s like you can see the need to retreat behind her walls fighting with her desire to feel you close after so long.

You don’t need a “special connection” to figure that much out. Especially with the way she keeps clenching and unclenching her hands.

“You’re not a bad kisser, Kate,” you say, your heart pounding in your chest as you force yourself to say the one thing that’s been on your mind since the night you walked away from her. “But you are horrible at talking about your feelings.”

That gets a laugh out of her. 

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

You hesitate for a moment before your hand lands on top of her fidgeting one. 

“That despite your many, many, many flaws…” You lean forward until your faces are merely inches apart. “I can’t find a way to not love you.”

“y/n-” Her breath catches in her throat as her eyes trail down your face. 

You wait for her to finish her sentence but words never come. Instead of words, she leans forward, her hands moving up to grasp your face and pull you up toward her.

The movement startles you but it doesn’t necessarily surprise you. What does surprise you, though, is the sheer amount of desperation that swims in the few inches remaining between your lips. 

It’s like you both wait a second more than necessary, almost like you can’t believe the other will allow the contact to happen. 

But then it does.

Kate practically lunges forward and connects her mouth with yours in an instant. Any ounce of restraint you still had goes out the window at that moment and you melt against her. 

There are so many unsaid things, so many things you both still need to apologize for, so many joint mistakes, and yet…it all fades away.

Suddenly, everything else is meaningless. 

Suddenly, and for the third time in the past few months, you realize how much you love Kate Bishop. How much you need her in your life despite the unrestrained chaos she brings.

How she’s the only person who’s able to turn your life upside down from a single kiss.

[cillianhead]

Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉

Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol

Thank you☺️

Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!

Enjoy <3

Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)

18+ Minors DNI

Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.

Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.

Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.

"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.

"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.

Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx

You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.

It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.

"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."

You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?

You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.

"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.

"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.

"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.

Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.

"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.

"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.

Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.

"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.

Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.

"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.

You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.

"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.

You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.

"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.

Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.

"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.

"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.

"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."

You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.

You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."

"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.

"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.

"Bye, Cillian..."

Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.

Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.

"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.

You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.

"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"

"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.

"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."

The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?

You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.

"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.

"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"

"I...."

"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.

"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.

"Y/N..."

"Cillian..." You repeated.

His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.

"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"

"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.

"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.

"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."

"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."

"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.

"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"

"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"

"How long... have you... you known...?"

"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."

You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."

"What gave you the courage?"

"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."

"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."

Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.

"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.

You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.

He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.

"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.

"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.

"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.

His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.

"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.

You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."

"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.

"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"

"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."

"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.

"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."

The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."

"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.

He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.

"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.

"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.

"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."

"I feel the same way."

You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.

-

hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3

also sorry if there are any major mistakes!

[turtletaubwrites]

Turtletaub Fic Recs ~ Part 2

I continue to get floored by the amazing and delectable One Piece fics I encounter here, so here's another batch! I hope you enjoy this list as much as I have, and that you go show these incredible writers some love! ~ NSFW Fics will be marked with a 🔥 | Other Fic Rec Lists ~ | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Ace

Ready? 🔥 ~ by @maddddstuff  ~ Here's some oh so fucking good smutty smut. Ace easing you through it 🍑 because he's the perfect, scrumptious guy. I should have waited for a better time to read it, but I couldn't help myself 😅

Barto

Dance Inside 🔥 ~ by @bartosbabymama ~ I love when you have a crush, and now you're sitting in their lap 🥰 He is way too fine, and this is smutty and cute. Barto and his fangs need more love! 💚

Buggy

Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more ~ by @lostfirefly ~ Chapter 1 hit me right in the feels! Such a well written couple's argument that made me want to shake them both, and teach Buggy some communication skills 😭 Chapter 2 was the perfect, sweet conclusion 🥰🤡

I’m full of surprises ~ by @hey-august ~ This is so lovely, and cute, and magical 🥰✨ Feels like letting yourself be free, letting the adventure start. Buggy is so sweet, and I wish his ship had shown up when I needed it.

Crocodile

The Sand Dragon and I 🔥 ~ by @discordantwritings ~ I'm OBSESSED. If you ever read Dealing with Dragons as a kid, get ready for the tastiest adult version of that. 🐲🥵 I would gladly serve Sir Crocodile, I don't even care.

Kid

Calm Down ~ by @sheerxfiction ~ This is fucking adorable, and brought me back to growing up in a hippie stoner town. He's a grump, but all he needed was weed and smooches 🍃🥰 So stinkin' cute, go check it out!

Law

Law Helping You Study 🔥 ~ by @nina-ya ~ Just the sexiest lil study session ever. Law is such a nerd, and has no right being this hot 🥵 Well written smut that I'll definitely read again!

Down the Alley 🔥 ~ by @quinloki ~ VERY inappropriate use of devil fruit powers 🤭 This is so hot! Where is Law when I need him? I need to try this out asap 😭🥵

Mihawk

The Hat Stays ON 🔥 ~ by @sordidmusings ~ Desperate Mihawk desperate Mihawk DESPERATE MIHAWK! This is so flipping hot, go have a read. It is TOO GOOD! 🥵

Multi and/or Character x Character

The Crow's Nest | Zoro x Sanji | ~ by @shewrites02 ~ Such a beautiful, sweet, angsty Zosan fic that made my heart melt! 😭 It’s got Whole Cake Island spoilers, but if you’re caught up, then do yourself a favor and read this! I love them so much, and this wonderfully written fic gave me all the feels 💛💚

Nami

One For Me ~ by @maplekzh ~ This is lovely, and fluffy, and hot! Just the sweetest little moment with Nami x GN!Reader in an established relationship, and I adore how Nami is written here 🍊

Robin

drowning ~ by @oxittocin ~ I love Robin so much, and this is so goood 😭😭 Angsty and sweet, from Robin's POV. It makes me want to wrap her up in a blanket, and make sure she never has another bad day for the rest of her life!

Sanji

Just For One Dance ~ by @gingernut1314 ~ I adored this sweet yearning goodness! It captures one of those rare, magical moments between two people that might not have long together, but will never forget each other. I loved it 🥰

Shanks

Two More Times 🔥 ~ by @fanaticsnail ~ This is insanely good brat taming smut with Daddy Shanks. (Also sweet and lovely because that's our Shanks 🥰) Seriously 🥵🥵🥵 HIGHLY recommend!!!

Zoro

Mean-Mugging ~ by @indydonuts ~ I can't describe how fucking cute this fluffy fic is. I snorted at the Straw Hats antics, then had to immediately go tell my partner about it because it's just so CUTE!! 😭💚 Zoro is so sweet, even if he's scary looking 😅

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[a-simple-imagine]

Pass Me By

Synopsis: Jordan doesn't wanna date you but no-one else can either.... based on this prompt by @poppy-metal

pairing: jordan li x fem!reader

words: 2.9k+

WARNINGS - swearing, suggestive themes, alcohol, insecurities about gender and just a hint of a toxic situationship

It's a tranquil, cosy night under the relaxing sound of rainfall rattling against the glass windows that do not open. faint moonlight bathes the room in a divine glow. this wasn't your dorm room but a place you knew all too well. from the collection of beer bottles starting to form across their desk to the joint buds in the ashtray. a guitar sits collecting dust in the corner. you've never seen them play it or so much as acknowledge it. a skateboard balanced on the shelf for decoration more than anything. The room always has this pleasant smokey cologne lingering in the air. it was a messy room. a sort of organised chaos that was so incredibly Jordan li. but you loved it. you'd drown in the ashy mix of cologne and joint smoke if you could because it meant spending time with them. it meant they wanted you here. it meant something. you liked Jordan and they liked you. although they had trouble showing it. you have had that very awkward conversation before but now you avoid any mention of it. they explained they didn't really know what they wanted and at the time, you were fine with that but now you're not too sure. now you kind of wish you could bring it up again and have a grown-up conversation but you're much too scared to face reality. because an ounce of their affection would always be better than none of it. you would rather live in the mystery than feel completely alone.

your head relaxes against their toned, slightly sweaty, chest. fingertips gliding up and down your stomach in a slow steady rhythm. it's delicate. soothing. tickles just a little bit. you could honestly stay like this forever, relishing in their affection. they feel so warm against you. it fills you with such a content, comfortable, feeling. you have been together like this for a while now, listening to them spill secrets in your ear like you're an angsty teenager's new journal. they scribble down all their hopes and dreams; their greatest fears. garnishing the page with pretty stickers and pictures so when they look back, they can't help but smile. it's silly but it makes you feel good. it was such a uniquely intimate moment. nobody knew Jordan the way you did. they didn't allow themselves to be vulnerable too often. perhaps some misguided attempt to seem cool and mysterious. but with you they did and that must mean something, right?

"I don't know," their soft voice fills the otherwise quiet room. "it's really kinda stupid."

"you don't have to tell me," you explain, moving your head to briefly look up at them. "but I'm here if you want."

a warm silence settles over the two of you. you take it as a sign that they don't want to talk about it which is fine. you would never pressure them into talking about anything they're not comfortable with. After a moment, they speak up again. "my powers are such a big part of who I am," their voice is very quiet almost like they're scared to say it. "would I still be this way without them?"

rolling onto your stomach, you finally look up at them properly. his hair is tousled and just a little messy but pretty. no matter what, it always looked pretty. even in the dim light, you can notice the dusting of pink across their cheeks. they seemed content; relaxed. "be what way?" you wonder. jordan's hand that once danced across your skin now rests against the small of your back.

"bigender, obviously."

"I don't know," they wanted an answer you couldn't give to them. identity was such a personal thing." how did you feel when you were younger?"

"I guess it's always been a little confusing,"

"Why are you suddenly questioning it?" you wonder with a slight chuckle. imitating their action from earlier by running your fingers up and down their chest.

"dunno," they shrug. "it's just a little fucked that my powers are just one more thing for people to hate me for."

without powers, Jordan never would have gotten into Godu. and if they hadn't gotten into godu, you'd probably never have met. the world can be a cruel place full of distaste and anger but as selfish as it was, you're grateful for the opportunity to know them. "you're always gonna get people who hate supes."

"yeah, but I mean like people hate that I shift. the whole bigender thing doesn't sell- it's fucking shit." his voice is louder now; firm. "add that to the whole Asian thing and I'm screwed. everything is against me."

"Jordan," you hum softly, stopping your motion. they've always been so confident in their identity. never cared what anyone else wanted from them. it was something you admired about them, so it was almost weird watching them discuss it with such uncertainty. to question something so fundamental to them. you hardly knew anything about yourself. "do you want to know what i think?"

"i guess," he huffs out. a grumpy little guy.

"I don't think it actually matters," you urge, planting a gentle kiss against their sweaty stomach. "maybe you wouldn't have been bigender. maybe you would have. maybe your powers are just a manifestation of who you were always meant to be. at the end of the day, all that matters is who you are now." you lay your head back down against their chest. "and i think they're pretty awesome." with a gentle hum, his arms slide over to hug you against them. guess they were satisfied with that answer.

"Well thanks," he says after a moment. "now if you could just convince the rest of the world to be less transphobic or xenophobic too, that'd be more useful."

"I'll get right on that,"

"parents would be happier. the powers they wanted but none of the gender shit. just their perfect superhero son."

"you are their perfect superhero son." you grin. "you're just also their perfect superhero daughter too. their perfect superhero person."

"you think I'm perfect," he teases.

"I think you're… something."

"hot? sexy? the coolest? what?"

you chuckle. leaning down to kiss their stomach but this time you gently nip the skin. "I'm not gonna feed that massive ego of yours."

"I already know you're obsessed with me," his grasp around you tightens ever so slightly. "can hardly blame you." you smile against them. they were probably right. you wouldn't admit it. "I wish they looked at me the same way."

"fuck them."

"don't talk about my parents like that." Jordan insists. "only I can say stuff like that."

"Sorry," you respond. you can hear their heart beating in their chest. one heart. one beautiful, fucked up person. you let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sound of Jordan li. "people put expectations on us and that's fucked. just be whoever you want."

"suppose." he mumbles softly. "sorry for being pathetic- no more talking about stupid ass feelings."

"I don't mind." you really didn't. you would listen to them talk about anything. "really."

the thing about being with Jordan is that you're never really with Jordan. it is always very hot and cold. you may find yourself in their bed naked, listening to their confessions but the very next day, they would probably ignore you. you rationalise their reaction by considering it embarrassment. they get self-conscious when it comes to being vulnerable. that doesn't make you feel better in the immediate sense but does allow you to remain hopeful for the future. you often see them around campus but you don't really talk. even if you did, they prefer to act like you hardly know each other. even just a smile is too much for Jordan Li; they prefer a dirty look. occasionally they found the time to text you back but that's hardly anything to write home about. plus you're always the one to initiate the conversation unless they're after something. your friends think they're an asshole. every time you find yourself left on read or longingly stalking their social media, they'd tell you to move on. and that's how you ended up here. at some random dorm party. apparently, the best way to get over them is to find someone new. you didn't want someone new but apparently, that's not a good enough reason to stay home. it's not a bad party. it's actually pretty fun once you relax and stop checking your phone every few minutes. but you should have known that if there was a party, Jordan Li would probably be there looking as radiant and mysterious as ever. a ghost haunting you in a crowd of drunk students. they also seemed to have a way of always knowing exactly where you are. you'd keep catching sight of them when you're getting a drink or talking to someone new. you're supposed to be ignoring them but they're making it very hard.

with a red cup full of the most disgusting beer in one hand, you're sitting on a couch listening to some random guy tell you all about himself. his name was Mike. Matthew? Matthew seemed correct. you don't remember exactly. it is so loud in here. the music wasn't even good. he was handsome though.

"so that's why I decided psychology would be better." he continues to explain his shift in major which had to do with his family. it's a sweet story. he seemed like such a genuine person. "I wanna help people but not through crime-fighting plus that'll give me a chance to work with supes and regular people."

"that's cool," you nod. it came out a little sarcastic but you never meant it that way. you had such admiration for people who wanna use their powers for good. it's not like you wanted to take over the world or anything but rather you had no clue what you wanted. it reminded you of your conversation with Jordan. you have no clue who you are or what you want. "I wish I was smart enough for that. kinda feel like I'm just here at the moment."

"that's fine too like you've got loads of time," he assures you, shuffling a little closer. a hand coming to rest on your arm along the back of the couch.

"that's true," you agree. "I don't know. we'll see, I'm not too worried like it's-"

"hey," you both look up to spy a masculine Jordan Li staring back with their arms crossed over their chest. his expression was indecipherable but fuck, did he look so good. "you gonna introduce us?" why would you introduce them? jordan wasn't part of this interaction and you hardly knew the other guy. Why was Jordan even here? they haven't spoken to you in days. when you don't respond, Matthew takes the liberty of introducing himself. you did remember his name correctly. "I'm Jordan."

"I know- everyone knows. you're in the top ten dude." Matthew is a little too eager. you would think he was the one sleeping with them.

"I am, yeah. can I just borrow," they point at you. "for a sec."

"uh…"

"I'm sorry. I'll be back." as you stand, Jordan clasps your wrist and basically hauls you up and off towards the hallway. you don't bother protesting. they were stronger than you anyway. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?" voice firm. jordan shifts to his femme form. fluffy short hair becomes an adorable bob. a much smaller frame but arguably more intimidating.

"excuse me?" your brow furrows.

"Are you stupid ?" Jordan asks, in a slightly more aggressive tone. "what are you doing?"

"what do you mean?" you had no clue what was going on right now. "I'm not doing anything."

"that dude is like all over you."

"no, he isn't. We're just talking," you argue.

a humourless laugh. "I know you're not that fucking naive,"

"Why do you even care?" you shoot back. you would hardly consider the conversation you were having the epitome of flirting. sure, there were a few lingering glances and some touching but there wasn't anything wrong with that. at least they were actually interested, unlike Jordan. "you've been ignoring me all week." a flash of surprise across their face that quickly disappears as they turn away from you.

"I've been busy."

"That's what you always say-"

"excuse me for having a life that doesn't revolve around you," Jordan fires back snappily, scowling back at you.

"why are you mad at me?"

"oh, I don't know. blatantly flirting with guys when you know I'm right there is a pretty shitty thing to do."

"I'm not flirting with anyone, we're just talking about our majors," you clarify. "and it's none of your business anyway, it's not like we're together. I can flirt with whoever I want."

"so you admit it." a scoff leaves your mouth. wait. was Jordan Li jealous right now? the same Jordan li who couldn't be bothered to so much as smile at you in the hallway was now mad that you're talking to someone else at a party? you can't help but laugh a little and when they frown in confusion, you laugh a little more.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" you ask, a playful quirk of your brow. "is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?"

"don't be an idiot," they defend, taking a step away and leaning back against the wall. you watch them carefully before following their gaze out into the sea of other people. "why would I be jealous?"

you close the distance once more; leaning in close. you hold their gaze. such soft pretty eyes hold so many secrets. "because you like me,"

"fuck off," Jordan huffs, flinching away from you. "I don't care what you do."

this whole conversation proved otherwise but okay. either way, you were done arguing over it. you were supposed to be focusing on other people not getting wrapped up in Jordan li again. "sure," you comment sarcastically. "I'm gonna get a drink and you're gonna leave me alone." you don't give them a chance to respond; simply walking away in search of a new drink. you half expect them to follow but they don't. with a fresh red cup, you decide to return to Matthew. he seems to have found somebody new to talk to. a tall guy with very distinctive feline eyes. "sorry about that." the boy looks at you, with a confused frown and then back to his friend. That was weird. "are you okay?"

"yeah," a smirk. "I just don't fuck with other people's girls. too messy." with that said, they both walk away. other people's girls? you weren't dating anyone. falling down against the couch, you search the crowd and spot a certain guy sporting a mischievous smirk. surely not. surely Jordan wasn't that much of a dick. when they catch your eye, they start walking towards you

"you look a little lonely over here."

"fuck you." you spit sharply.

"touchy." they hold their hands up in the air to feign innocence.

"you're such a fucking asshole," you grumble. sinking further down into the plush fabric of the couch. you were pissed. not over Matthew specifically. after all, you hardly knew him. but over the fact, that Jordan was so petty. you never expected them to do something as stupid as this.

"I didn't do anything " Jordan claims, a quick shrug of their shoulders. "he was just a dick."

"you told him I was your girlfriend."

"I didn't do shit," Jordan responds casually, shifting into their femme form as they fall down on the couch beside you. you sit forward ready to leave but not quite doing so. "I just decided to come talk to you since you seemed all lonely- sorry for trying to be nice."

"you don't know how to be nice."

"ouch," a playful hand slaps over the heart. "however will I go on" they chuckle, leaning back in their seat.

"fuck you."

"Will you chill out," their hands slide over your shoulders; gently pulling you back and into their awaiting embrace. "that guy was fucking dull as shit,"

"you don't even know him," you huff. no attempt to move out of their embrace; breathing in their perfume. it was surprisingly fruity. not their normal go-to.

"maybe not." Jordan answers. "but I know you." she hugs you against her chest. warm and tight. "I know your body." their hand slips down across your waist to rest upon your upper thigh. leaning in close, her breath is hot against your neck. "that dude could never fuck you as well as I do." whispered in your ear. A tingle spills down your spine. you shift against them, feeling very hot all of a sudden. "we both know it." you swallow hard. You don't know what to say. and frankly, you're worried that if you do they'll hear the tremble in your voice. you definitely don't want them to know the effect they had on you. not right now. not when you're supposed to be ignoring them. a feather-like kiss against your neck before it presses deeper. jordan sinks her teeth into your skin and your mouth falls open. a soft sigh slipping into the air.

"fuck…"

"That's what I thought," hummed against your skin before they pulled away. "so how about we stop playing games and go find somewhere quiet," they gently squeezed your thigh. "yeah?"

Jordan fucking li. they really were a piece of work. and your friends were gonna be oh so disappointed in you.

[adventuringblind]

Solace

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: angsty AF but happy end don't worry

Request: No, but they're open! I love seeing your ideas so please send them! I promise I don't bite... most the time ;)

Summary: you and Max get to grow together. Neither of your dads being the best parenting model. When Max sees what your dad has don’t to you, he knows something has to be done.

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, depictions of most forms of abuse, descriptions of injuries

Notes: written in second person. I’ve noticed a theme with my writing… we’re just going to ignore it and I will continue to heal my trauma this way :)

Masterlist

Everyone expected great things from you. Expectations you wanted so badly to meet. Yet you always felt like you were falling short.

Your father is a Redbull mechanic. A good one at that. He's incredibly smart and respected within the paddock. One of Max's top engineers.

Your mother had left during your childhood. This means you got to spend your time traveling everywhere with your father. Him even being your teacher until you started online school and graduated.

Christian offered you a job that involved being on the pitwall. One you took happily. It meant you didn't have to spend the race in the garage with your dad.

From the outside, you looked happy. But you weren't up to standard with what your father wanted. You weren't perfect.

Behind closed doors, things were much different. You were blamed for your mothers disappearance. Blamed for your fathers woes. Used as a physical and verbal punching bag to help him feel better.

All the while, you convinced yourself it was for his benefit. That you deserved this for not being what your father wanted. He provided for you all these years, why couldn't you do this for him.

When Max started at redbull, both of you were still young. Regardless, the friendship was meant to be. No matter how much wither of your fathers hated it.

It led to secret rendezvous and stolen moments of escape with each other. You understood him and he understood you.

Max failed to realize how you understood. His dad was open with his behaviors. Jos had yet to back down from a session of publicly shaming his child. Your dad didn't do anything close to that. So how on earth could you know exactly what he needed during those hard nights.

He'd asked Christian about it a few times. Why you were so shy and timid around adults. It was difficult to understand.

Christian had told him not to worry about it and to focus on his racing. He was watching out for you.

It was true. Christian had been your Guardian angel on multiple occasions. Even staying with his family over long breaks why home was too difficult. He made sure you were fed and had clothes that fit. Everything you lacked in your own house.

The one thing that stopped him from getting him away from you is that you never explicitly told him or showed any signs of it. He was working on assumptions and possible hints.

He'd tried to catch anything that would give him a leg up, but he'd yet to het anything.

Your relationship with Max grew over the years. The two of you melded. You knew how to tame the Mad Max that fought to escape, and he knew how to soothe your tears.

You found solice in each other. Stability in your friendship. A love you both were willing to fight for.

Which happened a lot.

Neither of you knew how to communicate properly. Resulting in hard arguments and yelling matches. One of you is always shutting down before any real reconciliation can happen.

Christian got to be a father to both of you in this way. Coaching you two on how to express your feelings healthily. He was routing for you two. Knowing both your fathers weren't the best, you and Max needed to learn and love with someone safe. He was glad to take you both under his wing.

Then you were able to flourish. You started smiling more. Your eyes lost the bags from underneath them.

Max started opening up more. Standing up to his father slowly became easier. His smile and silly attitude got to be more prominent.

You started showing affection to each other in public. Openly spending time with the other. Not caring what either of your fathers thought.

After all, you were both adults. Right?

You thought everything was going to be over when you moved in with Max. You were nervous about it, mainly because you were self-conscious about your body. Nevertheless, you knew it would be a good change.

~

It was a soft moment between you two. Your giggles as Max left chaft kisses all over your face made him smile.

He felt bad for looking. He knew you were struggling with insecurities, and he wanted to respect your privacy.

But as your shirt inches up your body, he catches sight of the dark marks along your hips and torso.

He immediately stopped everything. His breathe hitched in his throat.

You looked where his eyes had landed. The secret finally out. One part of you wanted to be relieved, but right now you were panicking. Your brain reeling with every possible outcome.

You did the first thing that came to mind. You apologized. You begged him not to tell anyone. Tried to convince him that it was your own fault. Your breath becoming more uneven with every word.

Max was taken off guard. He knew it had been bad, but he’d never seen it and you’d never shown him. His emotions were bubbling to the surface rapidly. But you didn’t need him to be angry with your father right now.

He removes his hands from your body to give you space. He didn’t want to scare you anymore then he already had. “Don’t apologize, none of that is your fault, okay.” It felt like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. “Can I hold you?”

You nodded your head yes. Eyes moving rapidly to every sound. Your senses hyper aware of everything happening.

He reached out for you slowly, making sure to stay within eye view. Something that helped him when he’d come to you. Slowly you made your way into his arms. Basking in the way he felt like safety.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, but when you’re ready I’m going to spend hours kissing all your bruises better.”

~

The next morning, Max took it slow. You both were needed at the track but he wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to give you time. You’d fallen asleep in his arms. Him soothing every tear that ran down your cheeks.

When you two arrived together, he made his way through the back entry with you in tow. Attempting to avoid cameras and your father. He needed to make sure you got somewhere safe first before he even attempted talking to his lead engineer.

He immediately went to Christian. His face when he saw you two approach made Max want to turn around.

“I can see on your face that you want to punch someone.” Christian sighs in exasperation.

Max looks between his team principal and you. Words now refusing to form in his mouth. How was he supposed to explain this? “Can Y/N stay with you while I run around doing things.”

Christian hesitates, confusion evident. “Only if you tell me what’s going on.” He could see you were in pain. You looked like you’d been crying.

Max leaned into whisper. Worried about cameras and the nearing possibility of your father spotting you two. “It’s worse then we thought.”

Christian rubbed his temples. Motioning for Max and you to follow him into his office. The door closing the a soft click behind them. Neither sat down, the anxiety too much for either of them.

Christian was trying to get a read off of you. You, however, had yet to even look at him. Your body language had reverted back to when you were small. When he let you pretend to work on the cars. It hurt him.

He was about to say something when a knock sounded at the door. A rough knock. A familiar knock. You flinched away from the door. Your survival instincts kicking in.

Christian motioned for you two to sit down. Max gently gripping your wrist to get you to follow him. You flicked unintentionally but he just looked at you knowingly. You needed to move and he was just trying to help.

You sit down across from Christian. Max’s leg was bouncing up and down so fast you thought he might put a hole in the floor.

“Come in.”

You don’t turn around when the door closes. You can hear his breathing. Aware of his every move without even seeing him. Fighting every urge to run away.

“Oh- I was looking for Y/N. We need to go over some data.” He picked up on your fear. You knew it as he walked directly behind you. His hand gripping your shoulder.

You flinched and turned away from his hand. The tension in the room was to thick for you to breath. Max was already out of his chair and ready to connect his fist with anything.

Christian put his hands in between the two men. Aware of the still open door and people peaking inside.

You were trying to cower away from the aggression. Away from the onlookers. Into the safety of Max.

“I think Y/N was busy going over some things with Max, but I’d be happy to look at it.” Christian gave his best attempt at a neutral smile.

Your father was growing angrier. It’s the first time he’d openly tried anything. The grip he had on your shoulder already bruising.

“Busy doing what? Trying to ruin her future even more?”

Max saw red. He was already angry, but now he’d crossed a line. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. However, the feeling of his fist connecting with the jaw of your fathers was to satisfying for him to care.

Your father reeled backwards. His hands clutching his face.

You jump from the chair. Finding refuge behind Max's body.

Max was ready to go for another swing. Before he could lunge, Christian grabbed his shoulder.

"Why don't you Teo cool off in Max's driver room. I'll come find you later."

Max didn't move. His chest heaving. The two men willing eachother to make a move.

You take Max's wrist. Gently trying to lead him through the door.

You, however, didn't get far. Your father knew something was wrong the second he saw you come into the garage. He’d been around Max long enough to know that he’s a protector. He knew that if you wanted, you could ruin his entire life.

So, he lunged for you. Grabbed hold of your hair and pulled. You were in his grip again before Max could even register what was happening.

“Max, go get security.”

“But-“

“Your going to be faster then me.”

Reluctant, Max sprints out of the garage. Making his way swiftly to the nearest security checkpoint. He was grateful it was only Thursday. The amount of fans in the paddock significantly less and he didn’t have to drive with his adrenaline already so high.

You were silently pleading that Christian is able to talk some sense into your father. His previously free hand now covering your mouth.

You’d been here before. Breath. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. The mantra you’re mind recited through your entire childhood.

You could see Christian saying words but couldn’t hear them. He was trying to get closer but the hold on you became stronger with each step he took.

Your mind goes blank for a moment. Your body present but your mind dissociated. You can see the interactions take place, but you don’t feel present, or even real.

He is shaking you now. Your body jostling. Then the floor. More footsteps.

Max.

He’s leaning over you. Checking to see if your okay. You can see the panic in his eyes. A soft blue that you will your mind to latch onto.

You can hear him now. He’s whispering to you. “Your safe now” falling like a prayer from his lips.

Max cradles you in his arms. Holding you close as the noises of your father struggling slowly get quieter.

Christian also appeared at eye level. Crouching down beside the two of you. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t want to cause my trouble.”

“You never cause trouble.” A smile ghosts across Christian’s face for a moment. “Your dad will not be allowed back into the paddock. And you already know, but if you ever need a place you’re welcome at our home.”

~

Unfortunately, the events that transpired were within view of people and cameras. Christian deemed it a ‘family emergency’ and let you two go back to the hotel. Leaving the media Max needed to do for tomorrow and Checo to replace Max at the press conference.

Now you and Max lay facing each other on the bed. Neither has said very much. Only trying to process the events.

Then you remember something Max said last night. “Can you kiss it better please?”

Max smiled softly and inched himself closer to you. “Stop me if it becomes to much.” You nod at him.

He lifts up your Redbull polo uniform just above your waistline. Placing gently kisses to every place on your body that your father had marked in some way.

He pulled you into him after he finished. The two of you just staying their. Embracing the new possibility of peace you’d both wanted for so long.

[webslinger-holland]

Forgiveness | Crosshair from The Bad Batch

Summary: When Crosshair reunites with his old squad, there are some unresolved tension between you.

Warning: spoilers from episode four, slightly jealous Hunter, recalling imprisonment with the empire, some angsty feelings

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 2.1k words

Note: Just had this one shot on my mind for a while and wanted to get it fully written. Let me know your thoughts down below!

The past several months had been incredibly difficult for the team. Having just lost Tech and Omega, they didn't quite know what to do or where to go from there. They spent months chasing down leads, desperately searching for any sign that would tell them where the Empire was keeping Omega. But every mission only resulted in another dead end with no usable intel.

It felt like they'd fallen into the same repeating cycle. They'd hear a whisper of something, follow that whisper, and find nothing that could aid them in their search. They refused to give up, especially their leader who was more determined than ever to bring her back home.

After many long tiresome months, their search was finally over. In the end, Omega was the one who had managed to escape from confinement and send a coded message to rendezvous somewhere safe. Now, Omega stood directly in front of them with big tears in her eyes. They'd never felt a stronger sense of relief than having her back safe and sound.

"I had help," Omega told them.

Turning around to face the ship that she'd arrived in, their eyes seemed to follow her line of sight. A figure emerged from the ship's gangplank, descending the ramp slowly. When the infamous sniper came into view, Hunter and Wrecker felt slightly unnerved. They still didn't trust him, watching his movements with extreme caution.

However, as soon as you'd seen him, it almost felt like your heart had dropped to the lowest point in your stomach. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and you fought the tears that threatened to release. You couldn't believe your eyes.

Sensing your sudden swelling of emotions, Hunter spun around on the heels of his feet to face you. He took a single step forward and reached out to you as if to comfort you, calling your name very so gently.

But you just couldn't look away from Crosshair. Your Crosshair.

The one who had betrayed his family to join the Empire's forces. The one whose chip had activated during the order and changed who he was as a person. The one who hunted you. The one who was finally offered the second chance he wanted so badly by his squad, but refused them in the end. The one who left you and vowed he didn't love you as you had loved him. That Crosshair.

After the Fall of Kamino, Hunter was left to comfort you during one of your lowest times having since been rejected from his younger brother on that platform. He lost count of how many nights you cried yourself to sleep in his arms. You never talked about it, but he knew somehow. That maybe there was still apart of you that cared deeply for him, which was why it hurt all the more.

Now, coming back to your reality, you truly didn't know how to feel. You never thought you'd see him again or if you had expected to see him again, it wouldn't have been in this current situation. He just stood there looking directly at you.

His face was blank. He showed no emotion whatsoever.

Finally, having gathered your courage, you started walking towards him without taking your eyes off him. Hunter had tried to stop you once again, roughly grabbing your forearm to halt your movements.

"Y/n. Wait," Hunter's voice came out rather gruff and harsh.

He was warning you. He didn't know what else to say, but it didn't matter because you quickly tore your hand out of his grasp. And you continued your approach across the space between.

Finally, you came to a halt in front of him. His eyes never looked away from yours and he continued to remain unreadable with his emotions. He waited expectantly.

He didn't know how you'd respond to seeing him again because the last time he had seen you, you confessed your true feelings for him and he chose the empire over you. He'd seen the hurt flash in your eyes when he said he didn't love you, how you fought the tears from falling at his words.

Months later, you were standing in front of him once again. He half-expected you to lash out in anger at him. He wondered what you'd say to him, thinking of how your voice would sound when you tell him: "How dare you show your face again?" He'd even take a couple hits from you if you were angry enough. He wouldn't care, because he deserved all the hate you had for him.

The very last thing that Crosshair expected was to hear a choked sob escape past your lips as your walls came crashing down around you. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burrowing your head into his chest. You clung to him so desperately as if you were afraid he'd slip through your fingers again. The tears began to fall down your cheeks as you held him close.

At first, Crosshair didn't know what to do with himself. He stood in your arms stiffly and awkwardly. It took a while before his shoulders finally eased up and he shakily raised his arms to wrap around you. He propped his chin onto the top of your head, relishing in the sweet feeling of your embrace. He closed his eyes slowly.

In the distance, Hunter's gaze hardened. He felt his fists clench at his sides instinctively. A newfound sense of anger began to arise in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't care about the things you've said or the things you've done," you spoke softly. This confession confused him even further. "What matters to me is that you're back."

After another moment, you reluctantly pulled yourself out of his grasp. You flashed him a brief smile, quickly wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks. You created a little distance by taking a step back, wanting to respect his boundaries. He watched you silently because he was honestly too shocked to say anything.

Leaving the rendezvous point in the Marauder, the now reunited members set a course to return to the safe haven planet known as Pabu. The Marauder was traveling through hyperspace, enveloping the entire ship in a tunnel of blue and white flashing stars. The little gonk droid waddled into the cockpit happily.

In the sleeping quarters, Wrecker and Omega had long since fallen asleep in each other's arms. They held Lula between the two of them. If you looked closely, you'd be able to see the faint smiles on their faces while they slept, knowing that they were both so happy to be reunited with one another.

Meanwhile, Hunter tried to busy himself at the control center. He typed on his brother's old data pad, figuring out what their next steps were going to be. If he was being honest with himself, his mind wasn't entirely focused on the task at hand. He often found himself glancing towards the cockpit upon knowing that was were his brother currently resided.

Brushing right past him, you walked directly into the entrance of the cockpit. He watched your retreating figure, which went unnoticed by you. An overwhelming sense of sadness filling his senses as he remembered the longing feeling you felt towards his brother and not him.

When you came into the cockpit, Crosshair was sitting in the copilots chair with his back turned to you. He was chewing on a toothpick, mulling his thoughts over. You were slow to make your presence known to him, gingerly stepping forward in your place.

"I made up your old cot for you," you told him with a hint of hope in your voice. "Thought it would be a good idea for you to get some rest."

He hummed. "And where will you sleep?"

"I--I don't know what you mean," you stumbled over your words, laughing awkwardly to cover it up.

"You used to sleep in my cot during my leave of absence," Crosshair recalled this piece of information because Omega had once told him about it during their time of confinement. "So where will you sleep?" Crosshair repeated himself.

"There's always that extra cot," you said rather sorrowfully. Your gaze fell to the floor when you remembered the notable absence of your squad member.

Hearing your response only made Crosshair close his eyes. It was all still new to him: the fact that he lost one of his brothers. He wasn't used to the feeling of him not being there because he'd always been there. He never imagined what life without Tech would look like. And now, he had to live that reality.

Since Tech died, you hadn't been able to bring yourself to cleaning up his personal space. His old workbench was left exactly how he'd left it with tools and gadgets scattered randomly. His cot was a whole other ordeal. There were wires coming out of places there shouldn't be wires and greasy parts had stained the sheets. Every time you looked at it, it was almost like he was still there living among you. So you never touched it.

That was until now when the need for another sleeping place arose.

"He's been watching you like a hawk," Crosshair's voice was quick to pull you away from your thoughts as he quickly changed the subject. You furrowed your eyebrows in slight confusion.

"Who?" You asked.

"Hunter," Crosshair rolled his eyes. His tone almost hinted: who else would it be?

"Oh," you replied softly, not really knowing how to respond to that.

"He worries about you, you know that right?" Crosshair added. He kept his back to you.

"Well, I--I never..." you threw a brief glance over your shoulder, but you were still at a loss for words.

"He'd be better for you," Crosshair confessed. He dropped his gaze down to his hands which shook ever so slightly in his lap. He clasped them together to stop the shaking. "He's cared about you for a long time and he's been able to take care of you. That's more than I can say."

"Crosshair," you breathed steadily. You called out for him and tried to peer around the chair. "What's this all about?"

Contemplating his next words carefully, Crosshair remained silent for a moment. He closed his eyes and turned his head away as if he wanted to run away from all of his thoughts and feelings. But he knew he couldn't do that.

"I---I care about you," Crosshair confessed, but he still refused to look you in the eyes.

Shoulders depleting at his confession, you felt your own breath escape your throat and your heart clenched tightly in your chest. You struggled to find the words to respond, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water.

"B-But I thought..." your voice trailed off as you took a single step forward. You recalled the conversation on Kamino.

"I know what I said!" Crosshair yelled back a little louder than he expected initially. You weakly took a step backwards in retreat, feeling him pushing you away again.

"What changed?" You inquired curiously.

"When I was...in confinement...I had a hard time sleeping," Crosshair began to explain. He kept his gaze locked on his hands as he relived the painful memories. "Every time I managed to fall asleep, I'd think of you. And it made me realize how much I missed you."

There was only silence that followed.

"I've made mistakes; done things that I'm not proud of. But one of my biggest regrets was pushing you away," Crosshair was speaking from the heart.

Before Crosshair knew what was happening, he felt a warm hand come in contact with his cheek. The hand urged him to turn his head and look up directly into your soft and kind eyes. You observed him silently, gazing deeply into the depths of his eyes to look for any deceit or falseness.

But all you could find was a truly broken soul. He had never looked at you like that before with such a tone of pain and hurt behind those eyes. He raised his shaky and unstable hand to grasp your wrist and hold your hand against his cheek. He seemed to lean into your touch, relishing the feeling of your skin against his own.

His hand tremors didn't go unnoticed by you. It was something he carried with him now. And he'd have to find a way to work through that struggle.

There was a part of him that wondered if this was all just another one of his dreams of you. That he'd only imagined escaping prison with Omega, fighting for his life, reuniting with his brothers, and finally confessing his feelings towards you. He closed his eyes and expected to wake up from this horrible dream at any moment. But instead: Crosshair only heard you say.

"I forgive you."

[jo-harrington]

Leave of Absence (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has royally fucked everything up and he needs to fix it. But after an unexpected emergency back home, he steps up to be there for Reader, just like she's always there for him.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.05

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Slow burn, mutual pining, angsty, emotional, fluffy, family problems, death in the family, loss, grief, pain and comfort, road trip, avoidance of feelings, Minor religious themes, mention of Catholic Church/Reader's family is Catholic but no overarching catholicism (that's what my other story is for)

Note: Woof ok this was an uphill battle FOR A YEAR. I'm gonna say the reason that Store Manager Verse exists in its present form is because of THIS CHAPTER RIGHT HERE. Before I could bring my two silly babies here to this moment, they needed to have some serious foundations laid down. Is it the best chapter? Probably not. But I'm incredibly happy that it's here and it's done.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

He was nervous.

"Stacey."

Of course he was nervous.

"Freak."

And what did he do when he was nervous? He talked.

"Hey now, I'm wounded," Eddie laid a hand across his chest, trying to keep the cool guy exterior. "Calling me a freak? Did I or did I not just help you with that flat tire last week?"

He was surprised when Stacey paused, a barb surely caught on the end of her tongue. She even looked a little embarrassed for a moment before her own frosty expression returned and she had the decency to look down her nose at him.

Sticking to the status quo.

"I know you're trying to put my boss under a love spell or hypnosis or something," she rolled her eyes. "So don't act like you would have helped any other time if she hadn't asked. Gotta keep her buttered up so you can get in her pants. Gag."

The typical stab of insult was welcome; the rest of it...wasn't. Not when it came to you. Not after what happened on Sunday. Not when he was nervous.

Sunday...

What started out as a normal night for the two of you had quickly become a nightmare. For him at least.

Well...it had been a dream at first. Hanging out. Food, laughter, music; it was nothing out of the norm for a Sunday night together. But then he had to go and suggest a little weed, where you had some kind of...bad reaction. To try and get your mind off the panic that had quickly taken over your body...he'd done the first thing that came to mind.

The only thing that came to mind lately when you were around.

He kissed you.

And he kept kissing you because you hadn't pushed him away. In fact, you’d kissed him harder.

For minutes or hours, he couldn't quite tell, he was overjoyed and he basked in being surrounded by you, in finding pleasure with you.

Finding pleasure. God, there was that poet's heart Mrs. Mills always told him he had. Almost fucking. Grinding one out on his couch. But yeah...finding pleasure worked too. Because it wasn't just a meaningless romp; he was kind of crazy about you, so of course it was gonna be special. Poetic.

How long had he been on the edge about confessing his feelings and ruining your friendship? He was the only one to blame when it came to keeping his mouth shut; Kyle had been telling him to just ask you out and plant one on you forever. And then Eddie did and it was perfect.

Until it wasn't. Until Wayne came home and Eddie had seen the panic and the fear and the...realization in your eyes, and he knew how badly he'd fucked up. Let alone the fact that you immediately ran away.

You’d been avoiding him for a few days. “Avoiding him,” as though school and work hadn't been putting you on opposite schedules. Still, there were no phone calls. No waiting to take your breaks with him. Only awkward glances as he passed your store on the way to start his shift, or a strained smile as you passed each other in the parking lot as he was coming and you were going.

And now Stacey was…being Stacey.

Had you told her? Complained about him? Made it known to your employees that the two of you had made a huge mistake.

No you would never…

Still, his nerves got the better of him and although he didn’t want to seem desperate, especially around Stacey of all people, he was.

"...did she say that or..." He paused and shook his head. "Where is your boss anyway? She’s supposed to close tonight right?”

Stacey looked a little unsure again and this time it made his stomach turn.

People were usually nervous around Eddie, but he had grown plenty used to that reaction from a wide array of classmates and neighbors.

Once again, when it came to you, especially given the circumstances, things were different. Maybe that's what was happening here? Maybe Stacey knew something he didn't, and you'd told her not to say anything so you could let him down easily.

Eddie was generally a level-headed guy but sometimes...sometimes...it didn't matter if he had a level head because the entire world was tipping on its side.

Who had you told? Stacey for sure...maybe Chrissy? Chrissy always avoided him at school thanks to his resident freak status, Starcourt Mall be damned. What about Mindy? Mindy was your only other confidante outside of him; what did she know? Had she convinced you to...to what? Dump him as a friend? Take the time you needed to avoid him? Somewhere between Sunday and today, had you finally come to the realization that he had been dreading all along. That he wasn't worth your time?

"Um, yeah,” Stacey finally replied and Eddie blinked himself back to reality. She picked at her cuticles and avoided his eyes. Never a good sign. “Well she was supposed to but Mindy was here when I clocked in. She's sick or something, I don't know. Mindy wouldn't say exactly...but she never calls out so..."

“Well where’s Mindy now?” he asked, almost desperately.

“She’s finishing up her break in the back,” she explained with a nod. “I can go see if she’s done.”

She disappeared into the stockroom, leaving him alone in the store.

He was unsure how to feel. Relief coursed through him; you weren’t avoiding him, you were simply not here. But on the other hand, what if you weren't here because you were avoiding him?

What if Stacey didn't know anything but Mindy did. Because no, you never called off. Ever. A fact that you had told him when he suggested playing hooky one busy Saturday when you were overwhelmed by a never-ending mid shift.

“I never leave early. I never take a sick day.”

“Well, shit, did you have perfect attendance in school too?”

“Uhm,” you hesitated, biting your lip naughtily. “I’m not at will to say.”

“Oh, you bad girl.”

"If it isn't our resident Van Halen impersonator," Mindy greeted as she walked out of the stockroom. Her usual sing-songs mom voice replaced by a gentler one as she smiled at him solemnly. "She's taking a few sick days. Should be back in time for your night out on Sunday, I hope."

"She's sick?" Eddie asked skeptically. "Wasn’t she here yesterday, she looked fi--"

"Why don't you give her a call," she insisted. She glanced over to the stock room door and as Eddie tracked her gaze, he saw Stacey eavesdropping. "Actually I was gonna stop by after work. Why don't you go? That way it's not a game of telephone.

"I'm sure she could really use a friend right now."

---

Eddie had never been inside of your apartment before.

He knew where you lived, sure; he'd dropped you off or picked you up a few times, especially once the two of you started planning dates outings outside of the usual Sundays. He'd never even rang the bell, if he was being honest. You usually watched out the window eagerly when you were expecting him to arrive.

The realization hit him as he stood there at the little residential door between the bakery and the furniture store, staring at your name on a little Dymo punch label next to the buzzer that he'd just jammed his finger into, and it filled him with doubt.

You'd been to the trailer a few times. Seen all of his favorite places, tried all of his favorite foods. Listened patiently to his insecurities and issues. Still, you seemed to keep him at arms length, if he didn't even know what your apartment looked like; did you have posters on the walls or pictures of your family? What color was your couch? Or the towels in your bathroom?

He knew so much about you but did he really know you, and did you even want him to?

The door buzzed open and Eddie took the stairs up to your landing two at a time, all the while worrying and overthinking: You weren't expecting him and he was beginning to doubt that you even wanted him here in the first place. Sure, Mindy told him to go over...but was this taking it a step too far?

He started preparing an apology as he closed the final few distance to your door and it swung open--

"I'm sorry I fucked up, I didn't mean to break your trust. I'll do anything...anything...if you'll just forgive me. If you just give me another chance."

--and he saw the sorry state you were in.

Hair and clothes mussed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, a bundle of black fabric clenched tightly in your hands; the shine of tears and snot was accentuated by the incandescent lights in the hallway.

"Eddie," you whispered in a strained, broken voice, then you dropped the fabric to cross the threshold of your apartment and bury your face into his shirt. He panicked for a moment, arms held uselessly at his sides as your tears penetrated the worn fabric at his shoulder, but he quickly engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm sorry," you both spoke over one another, then you pulled back and stared him straight in the eye. "You're sorry? I'm sorry."

"No," you shook your head. "I'm sorry. I...I should have done better, I shouldn't have--"

"I crossed a line and I ruined our friendship and--"

You both continued talking over one another, each half-listening to what the other had to say as you got your own apologies out, until you both synced back up again.

"I fucked up and I'm sorry."

Your shoulders and chests heaved from the cacophony of emotion and a tense laugh was shared between the two of you. Then Eddie came to a realization.

"If you're sorry..." he frowned and let his eyes rake over you again. "If you thought that you hurt or scared me--which you didn't, by the way. It was...it was me, my mistake--why are you crying?"

You worried your lip for a second and a lone tear escaped your eye and trailed down your cheek; his hand immediately came up so he could thumb it away.

"Mindy told me you were sick," he muttered, taking advantage of the proximity to be a little gentler, a little smaller than he was used to being, so you could put your trust in him again. "What happened?"

"Uhm..." you croaked. "I'm not sick. I'm just taking a few sick days. Bereavement days...actually. Little leave of absence. Just through the end of the weekend."

The word was distantly familiar to him; the memories, though, would stay with him forever. Rick picking him up from school, a phone call from Wayne to his boss. An appointment for all three of them to get suits rented...and then some flowers ordered. Shiny shoes that he could see his teary-eyed reflection in.

He swallowed painfully and watched you do the same as you prepared your confession.

"My...uh...my grandpa died last night."

And before he knew it, it was 12 hours later. 12 hours that he spent relatively quietly.

He let you fill the silence; let you talk and cry, only opening his mouth to comfort you when the realization hit again and it got to be too much.

He helped you pack your bag for the trip back home. That was when your grief finally turned into anger.

Towards your family. Towards yourself.

"I feel like it's my fault," you sighed as you showed him how to find a pair of tights that didn’t have runs in them, whatever that meant. "I was the only one who took care of him. Doctor's appointments, took him on walks, made sure he didn't have the food he wasn't supposed to. The works. And I left. It's my fault he's gone. At least, that's the way Michael made it sound on the phone."

Eddie almost didn't catch the last part, said under your breath as you stuffed a shiny pair of shoes into your duffel bag, but he did. He wasn't going to let you do this to yourself; how many times over the years had he questioned how he might have been able to keep his mom from dying? On those days where he needed her most. He knew he couldn't stop you from those thoughts, at least not now but he could do his best to fight them away until you could do it yourself.

"Michael," he spoke up, startling you with the realization that he heard. "That's your brother right?"

"Older brother," you nodded slowly.

"Sounds like a shithead."

"Yeah," you let out the briefest laugh and then fiddled with the zipper tab. "He kind of is."

You complained about perfect Michael and his perfect life until your stomach rumbled and Eddie offered to order dinner for the two of you. When you mentioned that you hadn't eaten all day, he made sure you had more than your fill of beef lo mein and garlic string beans as Monty Hall played on the television.

At a certain point, your takeout carton made it to the coffee table and you started to doze off as your head rested on his shoulder. It was a relief, but only for a second, because you startled back awake and dumped all the clothes out of your bag again.

"I didn't pack the right dress," you muttered. "Aunt Amelia's gonna say something about it. I just know."

So Eddie stayed up with you all night as you packed and unpacked and packed again, uncaring that he had school in the morning or Hellfire that night. Fuck it all. It didn’t matter. None of the doubts and self-hatred and worry that had plagued him all week since Sunday night even crossed his mind. All that he worried about was making sure you weren't alone.

When dawn came, and you tiredly tried to wave him out of your apartment so that he could get ready for class and you could hit the road, he pulled you into his arms and just...held you.

He closed his eyes and rocked you back and forth as you hummed softly and gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly beneath his jacket.

He thought of all the things that he could say in that moment...

Drive safe, call me tonight so I know you got there, I'm sorry, take it easy on yourself, it's not your fault.

...but none of them were able to fall from his lips.

"Welp," you sighed. "This is it."

But neither of you moved.

"Thank you for coming over Eddie. I really really appreciate it."

Still nothing. No forward momentum, no motivation to move on to the rest of the day without one another, no reassuring words from him to give you the strength you needed to go forth alone, and no will for him to leave you.

You'd both be ready when you were ready, it seemed.

But as you finally pulled away from him, and he thought about you getting in your car and driving for what might be one of the toughest weekends of your life, all he managed to say...

"Why don't I come with you? I know it's not a road trip or fun or anything. I know I have school and work but...fuck it. We can stop at the trailer, I'll leave a note for Wayne and grab the nicest clothes I own, and...I'll come with you. I just...I don't want you doing this all alone."

...resulted in him sitting in the passenger's seat of your car for 5 hours as you zoomed down the highway away from his whole life in Indiana to the great unknown of Chicago.

---

You talked for a majority of the drive.

Eddie already knew some things about your family—strict parents, pesky brothers, too many cousins than he could keep track of—but you seemed to want to prepare him because he would effectively meet all of them.

"Big Catholic family and a funeral," you glanced at him from the corner of your eye and shot a tense smile. “It's a lot. You sure you still want to come?”

You’d done that throughout the drive too, asked him if he was sure he wanted to come with you. He’d joked several times already that you’d have to leave him on the side of the road, which you wouldn’t, or turn back altogether if he chickened out.

Besides, he already called Jeff when you stopped at his place to let him grab some clothes, and canceled Hellfire; he wouldn’t chicken out for anything. He needed to be here for you.

If he was being honest, yes he was nervous. He hadn’t met any girlfriends' families before or anything, and this whole situation wasn’t exactly the way he’d ever imagined meeting yours. As you crossed the state border into Illinois, though, your breath got shallow and your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and Eddie wondered if you were looking for a way out because you never wanted the two parts of your life—family and friends—to clash.

“I don’t, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I know I’m not someone that…families approve of or anything, if that's why you keep asking if I want to be here.”

"It's not that--" you tried to interject.

"And I know we're not dating or anything but..." he trailed off awkwardly and then cleared his throat.

Well that was one way of sticking his foot in his mouth.

Your head was half turned towards him, jaw dropped, eyes darting back and forth from the road to him.

The thought of opening the car door and bailing as you zoomed down the highway briefly crossed his mind because he fucked up. Why would he say something like that? It was because he was a big dingus, actually, the biggest.

"Uh, Eddie listen--"

"No," he interrupted you again. "Sweetheart I'm sorry, that's...that wasn't fair of me. I didn't mean...I just..."

"No it's ok, we should ta--"

"I just thought that...I know I pretty much intruded on this trip, but I wanted to be here for you. But if me being here is gonna cause more problems for you...I mean damn, I don't mind taking a Greyhound back to Hawkins even. But more than anything, I want to make sure you're alright."

He nervously picked at the loose threads on the holes at his knees and was surprised when you took a hand off the steering wheel and grabbed his.

"Do you know," you whispered, voice barely audible. "I think I would have turned back by now if I tried to come alone. Michael on the phone...god I don't know how my dad's gonna be...or my aunt. I don't want to have to deal with all of that. But I know I need to be there...it's for my Papa, I have to be there.

"It's hard to go home when you've moved someplace else. When you've started to find home somewhere else. And I wasn't gonna say anything. I wasn't gonna ask you--it's too much to ask--but I secretly kind of hoped that you would ask to come along. And I'll never be able to really thank you, Eddie, for wanting to be here. For me.

"But thank you," you shot him a smile and squeezed his hand tightly.

He swallowed thickly and squeezed right back.

"I'll be here for as long as you need me to be, sweetheart. As long as you want me to be."

---

The weekend was a whirlwind, and honestly, Eddie knew he wasn't going to be able to make heads or tails of it until the two of you got home on Sunday night.

The first surprise, shortly after your heartfelt moment in the car, was the fact that you didn't actually live in Chicago. You'd been approaching the city on I-90, you even pointed out the Sears Tower to him. Then you got on an exit and drove for another 20 minutes down North Avenue.

"I feel like I've been lied to," he sniffed petulantly.

"I told you I'm from the suburbs before," you chuckled at his antics. "And it might as well be Chicago, it's all Cook County."

"We're not even driving North, how is this North Avenue?"

"We don't have time for a history lesson, we'll be there soon."

Still, it was exciting. Not exactly what he pictured in his head from watching shows on TV or seeing news reels about the city, but nonetheless different from what he was used to in Hawkins and that was the part he liked.

At a certain point, you reached a stretch of road that featured certain destinations that would live in Eddie's imagination until he could ask you about them--KiddieLand Amusement Park, Riviera Lanes, and Winston Plaza--and Eddie noticed your hands started to shake.

"You ok? There's plenty of places to pull over," he suggested. "I can drive the rest of the way."

"No it's ok," you said and swung a left-hand turn onto a residential street with houses that sort-of all looked the same, sort-of all looked different. "We're here."

You parked on the street in front of a house that you noted belonged to your aunt, and then led him down a narrow sidewalk to the backyard of the neighboring house, where a kid gangly enough to rival Mike Wheeler sat in a plastic lawn chair with headphones on, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes closed.

"Jimmy," you called to him and then kicked his foot. "Jimmy. James Joseph, wake up."

"I'm awake," he startled, knocked the headphones down so they sat around his neck, and stood up. Even with one hand rubbing his eye, your brother's resemblance to you was obvious, and a sense of dread washed over Eddie.

And so it began...meeting your family.

Jimmy was probably the best introduction of them all--there was an ease between the two of you, even with the snide jabs and banter back and forth--and that extended to Eddie. Especially when Jimmy realized that he and Eddie were wearing the same shirt.

"Don't let him fool you, he's a dweeb," you announced when Jimmy got excited over a shared love for Judas Priest, and Eddie hoped you meant your brother, but he couldn't be too sure you weren't referring to him.

There was a brief respite as you both rested for a minute, changed clothes, and ate a plate of some sort of casserole from the packed shelves of the avocado fridge in your grandpa's kitchen. Then it was an onslaught, a domino effect of faces and names that gradually got more important as you got back into the car to head towards the funeral home.

A sea of strange faces that smiled and hugged you and then looked over at Eddie in question, but not in an unwelcome way, and he was glad he'd pilfered a black scrunchie from your bag to tie his hair back respectfully.

You introduced him to this old coworker of your Papa and that great-aunt from Minneapolis and this cousin. He even got to meet your old store manager--a stern, short, blonde woman with victory rolls and shimmering black eyeshadow--who'd come to pay her respects after she saw your Papa's obituary in the newspaper; she honestly scared Eddie a little, but she made him laugh, which meant she was good in his book.

It was all reminiscent of meeting people after his mom died once upon a time, the only other funeral he'd ever been to. When people called and came out of the woodwork in an overwhelming number to offer their condolences. He had been young and sad then, but he was older, wiser, and tougher now. He shook hands and said "nice to meet you" and when people questioned whether he was a boyfriend, Eddie insisted he was just a friend who wanted to be here for you.

It wasn't a lie; still he got a skeptical gaze from at least two elderly women who tutted once they were out of earshot.

Eventually, you got to the front of the room, to the row of chairs that held your immediate family, and after a few tearful hugs, Eddie finally met your parents, your aunt and uncle, and your older brother.

He was surprised to hear "I've heard a lot about you" come from your mother's mouth, but was not surprised to hear the "no funny business under my roof" from your father after a clap on the shoulder. Your uncle said nothing after a short “hello”, just let your aunt do all the talking, and all she could talk about was your appearance.

"What are you doing, honey? What is this you're wearing? For Papa's wake? I hope you plan to wear something a little more modest for my father's funeral tomorrow. And your friend? A leather jacket? A little casual don't you think? What's that dear? Yes, nice to meet you too Edward. Thank you for coming."

Your brother Michael, though...Michael was a douchebag to put it in polite terms, and Eddie could tell that, unlike with Jimmy, the relationship between you was tense.

"You're late" he sniffed judgmentally instead of a greeting.

"We hit traffic and needed to change," you snarked right back.

"So you stopped off at home? Where's Jim? Why couldn't you get him here?"

"You know how he is at these things, he'll show up before they close up for the night. You remember how he was when Nana died. And now he's Mr. Tough Guy. He doesn't like to cry."

Back and forth the two of you went, Michael's accusations and your tense responses. Eddie could feel himself get more and more irritated the harsher it got, the angrier he felt you become. If it was anything other than a funeral--a wake, what was the difference--he would have started in on your brother several minutes ago to protect you.

And he was still tempted to.

But it was like a switch was flipped as someone else approached, and he watched as you changed right before his very eyes. As all the irritation and vulnerabilities left you, and in their place...was the Store Manager version of you he knew and sort of despised. Cold and stiff and everything he knew you weren't by the grace of becoming your friend.

Regardless, it was startling to see.

At the end of the night as Eddie settled into the second twin bed in what used to be Michael and Jimmy's shared room, Eddie realized that your customer service persona had been present for most of the evening, and had only slipped in the presence of those few family members that could see right past it.

Could they see past it? Or was it that you simply couldn't hide behind it with them?

For the whole time he'd known you, Eddie had often wondered what had driven you to Indiana. The job, sure, but...you'd left everything you'd known behind. And hell, for all the times that he wanted to get the hell out of Hawkins, he knew he couldn't leave Wayne or Rick for very long. In his heart he knew the day he finally left, he'd need to be back quite often to see them.

Now, though...when it came to you, he started to understand.

---

The next day, the day of the funeral, you couldn't stop shaking.

Eddie had been nervously second guessing the black jeans--the only non-ripped pair he owned--and Wayne's borrowed dress shirt when he saw you digging through your bag, trembling. It seemed like you were trying to hide it, kept your body moving and grabbing for something, but he noticed immediately,

He snatched the car keys out of your hands before you could get a solid grasp on them when it was time to go.

"It's alright," he reassured you. "Just tell me where I'm going and I'll get us there."

He thought it would be back to the funeral home, but instead you gave him directions to the church. A big old building with stained glass windows and a large statue of the Virgin Mary out in the front.

He could hear the organ music of the hymns emanating from within, and on the hour, the bells from the tower beside the chapel became deafening. For all the Catholic school girl jokes he made at your expense, he didn't realize you were Catholic Catholic.

"You sure I'm not gonna burst into flames if I set foot inside?" he joked to try and ease your nerves and his, but you just shook your head. He watched and suddenly felt helpless, as you began to shake more and worry your bottom lip with your teeth; he was supposed to be here to support you, to reassure you, and instead you looked ready to keel over. "Hey, it'll be ok."

"Yeah," you nodded tensely. "Yeah, let's just go inside."

You didn't make a move though, just rocked onto the toes of your shiny Mary Janes and looked on as tons of people filtered into the church.

Tons of people that, once again, reminded him of the people that had come to pay their respects for his mom. Eddie remembered being there, shaking in his shoes, trying to keep a straight-face, to be strong. To not be a baby because he was 10 years old.

It was just like you said about Jimmy the previous night; big tough guy, didn't want to cr--

Oh.

Realization hit Eddie. The culmination of all the other realizations that had been mounting over the past what? 48 hours? Maybe the past week? The two of you were more alike than he realized. Eddie had just noticed how you'd put up this strong front since you'd been home; the comfortable, safe Store Manager facade was starting to crack. Hadn't he just told you the story about his mom's funeral? How he'd fallen in love with metal because Rick had realized that he needed to process his grief? That he needed to lash out? To cry?

Here he was, trying to get you to laugh, when instead he should have been doing the opposite. But how was he gonna get you to cry? You didn't even cry much at the wake when you'd placed your hand on top of the shiny casket that held your Papa within.

Maybe it just hadn't hit you yet?

Alright, change of plans.

"Your Papa knew a lot of people," Eddie noted, gesturing towards the funeral-goers.

"He did," you agreed, and he watched as your shoulders lost the slightest bit of tension. "He was...I mean you met my cousin last night. The one who wants to run for Mayor."

"Yeah, he's got that yuppie thing about him."

"Well, my Papa could have been Mayor if he wanted," you said with the most conviction he'd ever heard in your voice. "He just didn't want to. Which means he deserved it even more. He was the nicest neighbor, the best friend. He went and played competitive Bocce at the civic center and fundraised for charity and canned his own peaches to give to people."

On and on, you talked about Papa's recipe for this and his idea for that and...

"And the way he fucking chain smoked god damn it Eddie," you hit his arm as he pulled his cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans.

Eddie thought that, at the very least, an emotional story would be the thing that would set you over the edge. Instead it was the pack of Marlboro Reds that he'd picked up when you had stopped for gas about halfway through the drive.

You hit his arm a few times, as you often did when you tried to playfully admonish him for this or that, then your face crumpled. Your shaking ceased as you collapsed against him and buried your face against his shoulder once again, just like you had when he first arrived at your apartment on Thursday night.

He dropped the cigarettes and folded his arms around you, pulled you into the safety of your friendship when it seemed like there wasn't anything safe out there for you right now; when you'd just lost one of the safe places you had in the world.

He whispered sweet words--comforts and reassurances--and he made you laugh once by threatening to punch your brother if he tried to make a scene.

"I'll do it," he goaded you. "I don't care if he's in mourning too. He's insufferable. Hate that guy. Never coming back to Chicago ever if he's still in town. You hear that? I might have to leave right now."

"No," you tugged him closer to you, and he reveled in the feeling. "You're staying right here. You promised."

"I did," he agreed.

The tense hold you had on him got looser and you hiccuped the last few tears you had.

A few yards away, a hearse pulled up to the curb in front of the church, and your brothers and several of your cousins went to start hauling the casket inside.

"You ready to go in?" Eddie asked. "You don't have to...but..."

"No," you shook your head and pulled back from him. "I'm ok. I'm ready."

"Good."

He waited for you to make the first move once again, but before you did, you took his hand in yours and squeezed.

"He would have been...so happy to have met you, Eddie," you looked at him earnestly. "I told him all about you. I think it hurts a little more...knowing that he didn't get the chance."

He squeezed your hand right back and smiled.

"I'm sad I didn't get the chance either. Guess I'm gonna have to work extra hard not to go to Hell so I can shake his hand in Heaven."

You snorted and pushed him away with a soft jackass then pulled him into the church with you saying he would have made the same joke.

---

The next morning, you and Eddie made a stealthy getaway.

Your father had tried to get you both to go to church with them again and you politely declined.

"We need to get on the road so we don't get back too late. I have to open tomorrow," you made the excuse.

Honestly Eddie was grateful; all the sitting and standing and kneeling...he hadn't gotten that much exercise since gym class Freshman year.

But as you soared back down North Avenue, you made a detour.

"I know this wasn't supposed to be a fun trip," you explained. "If you're up for it, we can make the drive back whenever...maybe during spring break or something? The least I can do before we head back to Hawkins, to thank you for coming, is give you a taste of good Chicago food. Especially after casseroles and funeral home sandwiches all weekend.

"It is Sunday, after all."

And that's how Eddie found himself having his first authentic Chicago style hot dog. Sitting on a picnic bench outside, under a red and yellow striped umbrella, the ambient sounds of cars zooming and your banter back and forth the perfect backdrop.

"No ketchup, are you kidding me right now Eddie?" you swatted his hand.

"Why do they have ketchup if they don't want it on the hot dog," he argued.

"It's for the fries and the fries only. You need to have the whole experience. A hot dog with everything, and ketchup on the fries only."

He watched as you unwrapped your hotdog and began picking through the toppings. Hypocrite.

"Wait, I thought you said you needed to have the whole experience, why are you taking the peppers off."

"I don't like the peppers."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Eddie scoffed. "Gonna have to take your Chicago Card away. Oh wait, I'm sorry. Suburb card."

"Oh my god, just eat. Before I leave you here."

He took his first bite and his tastebuds sang, as you munched on a French fry with a cheeky smile.

And Eddie was happy. Happy to be here with you. Sundays were his favorite days, hands down, and he would do everything in his power to keep them that way.

It might not have been the happiest weekend, there might still be some unanswered questions between the two of you. But you were here with him and you were still friends, and after everything that had happened, that's all Eddie could ask for.

Next Part: Closing Time

[the-dixon-effect]

Lover, you should've come over

A/N: i had this idea a while ago just never got around to writing it. it's v fluffy, a little angsty and just the right amount of trauma, and the title from jeff buckley ofc. hope you enjoy lovelies :')

era: season 6, pre-Negan Alexandria

prompt: "Ya don't ever have to say sorry. Not to me."

summary: Y/N is feeling particularly affected by her past trauma sometime during the group's transition to the suburban atmosphere of Alexandria.

words: 1.5k

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

warnings: self-harm, anxiety, suggestive

9pm The garage; dark, gloomy, the perfect hiding spot.

The rest of the group was having dinner, courteously cooked by Carol, in the dining area of your shared house. Rick was right, it was going to take some considerable time before everyone properly adjusted to the strange atmosphere of the unaffected suburban paradise that was Alexandria. It seemed, however, that despite the incredible amount of time your people, your family, had spent surviving outside these walls, everybody was fitting in just fine.

The houses were strange, untouched, and the people even stranger. It was like this tiny pocket of the new world was a time capsule, a preserved artefact of an ancient time, all but forgotten to most. It felt like if you were to get too close, immerse yourself too much, the time would come when this place would come crashing down, and bring you down with it. Not only did this place feel like a fever dream about the old world, it also brought back certain memories from the past that you'd tried so desperately to leave behind.

So here you were, an empty seat at the dining room table. You pressed your back against the wall and hugged your legs to your chest. You wondered if they would even notice you weren't there.

Almost-silent sniffles were the only sounds that filled the dim room. The last of the daylight filtered through the tiny gap between the garage door and the ground. You rolled up the sleeves of your flannel shirt to reveal a checkerboard of familiar scratches and cuts, only half visible due to the distinct lack of light in the room. Your head rolled backwards, almost on its own, and hit the wall with a thud. Your eyes swelled with tears just as quick as the memories had come flooding back.

Maybe it wasn't this place. Or the people. Maybe it was just you. No point running now, you thought. You can escape from everything and everyone you love, but you'll never escape yourself, a part of you tried to tell yourself. No matter how far you run, your past, your scars, they will always remain.

9:30pm Despite Y/N's assumption that her absence at dinner would go unnoticed, she was wrong. A certain archer's eyes searched for yours but failed to meet them across the table. "Where's Y/N?" he asked, filling the silence. When all he received was a fleeting glance around the room from members of the group, he swiftly returned to his former position of silence.

"She's probably over at Aaron and Eric's. I heard they were having a couple people over for dinner tonight," said Michonne, a little dismissively.

Daryl shared your feelings about this strange community, and he too understood your lack of trust. Even before adjusting to the end of the world, he certainly would have felt uneasy in a place like this. People like him, like you, they're not supposed to be living in a place like this, pretending to forget about the world outside the walls. Paradise is no place for us, he thought.

Once dinner was finished and the chatter had died down, Daryl slipped off in an effort to find you, and he couldn't help but worry.

9:45pm After searching the whole damn neighbourhood and finding no one who knew where you were, he started to assume the worst. What if she left, ran away somehow? What if she went on a run and got hurt? No, no, he couldn't lose you, not when the both of you had just got here.

Suddenly he remembered the conversation he had with you last night, out on the porch. The stars were out, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you could look up and admire them in somewhat safety. And they were beautiful. And the two of you sat and talked and talked and just watched those stars. He loved to just listen to you, in truth, he wanted to hear all your stories. Even the bad ones, the regretful ones, perhaps he just needed to hear your voice. He thought back to something you'd said, and his mind suddenly went overdrive with worry. A particular memory you'd recalled, and said that you'd never told anybody this before, alluding to an especially bad habit you'd broken. Could that be... self-harm? He was pretty sure he'd seen those marks on your arm, or he saw something, at least, that wasn't caused by walkers.

He started to go over every single place in his mind where you might be hiding, doing more harm to yourself than good by not speaking up. Your bedroom, the attic, the basement, the yard, the garage. The one place the rest of the group wouldn't think to look for you, if they even came looking at all, you thought. Except for Daryl, who had been working in there on his bike all day.

You could even sense it now, the oil, the tools, and the summer heat, even in the nighttime. As you thought of him, the whole place started to feel like him. You weren't even sure if you liked it or not, the familiar fondness you'd developed for him, but despite your loveable manner, you were so determined to be alone. To not appear as some anxious little presence going about the place.

The door swung open and the first thing you noticed was the light that streamed in, illuminating your tear-stained face.

"Y/N! Y/N, are ya' in here?" You buried your face in your hands as you approached the archer, weakly.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on?" he drawled. Daryl placed his torch down and stepped a little closer to you, not in a threatening, fearsome way, but in an intimate way, a way that felt like you could be safe with him.

"Can- Do you think you could shut the door?" you said, sniffling a little as you spoke. He followed your request and returned to where he stood before, deep blue eyes locked on your pitiful face.

10pm It felt like there was nothing to be said, no way to express your feelings in a way that somebody could understand. It would be just perfect if, in this moment, he was able to read your mind somehow. Hesitantly, you rolled up your sleeves as you had done before and looked straight up at him with those wide eyes. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure, and if he could put aside every ounce of sorrow he felt just looking at the scars, he was grateful to be the one who you came to.

"This place, it's like- it's like a well," you were struggling to speak. The tears were flowing now, and you felt embarrassed to have this much emotion on display. "Couple days after we got here, I just started to remember, you know. The stuff you don't wanna remember. Just feel trapped, you know," your voice seemed to trail away as your closed your eyes. Nothing to be done now, you supposed.

When you looked up at Daryl again, you were suddenly overcome by a rush of guilt. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Daryl..."

He pulled you into a tight hug at once and whispered into your soft hair that he held so gently. "No, no darlin'..." he spoke. "Ya' don't ever have to say sorry. Not to me." Perhaps if you were thinking straight you would've tried a little harder to appreciate the moment. His distinct scent, the notes of sweet cigarettes, pinewood and thunderstorms. Instead, you cried into his shoulder as his other hand rubbed gentle lines up and down your back.

You pulled away from the embrace, keeping your arms draped around his neck. He was captured by those pretty eyes of yours, though glassed over completely, and held the silent eye contact. He lifted his right hand and softly held your arm, tracing your goosebumps with his calloused fingertips. And you just stared up at him, looking for the reassurance in his eyes that you knew you would always find.

Sensing your pain, Daryl brought your forearm to his lips and pressed sweet kisses on those same self-inflicted scars. You gazed up at him and mustered the best smile you could, as a sign to continue. You slipped off your flannel shirt revealing the little white t-shirt that you wore underneath. Moving further up the length of your arm, he planted soft kisses on your shoulder, and then your neck. The intimacy brought more overstimulated tears to your straining eyes. The only thing you knew how to do in this moment was simply grip him tighter. "Never let me go," you whispered.

Perhaps you didn't need to be alone after all.