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lqvesoph · 1 month

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She‘s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4

gif by @formulaonedirection

lando norris x webber!reader

summary: After releasing your new album you go to the Bahrain Grand Prix to finally see your two favorite Aussie’s. What you didn’t expect is to meet a certain Brit as well.

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

masterlist | taglist

Part 1

yn.adams: Thank you for all the love on GUTS!!! Tour is coming I promissssse but now off to Bahrain🏁

comments:

gracieabrams: YOURE UNREAL

rachelzegler: all american t*ts frr

danielricciardo: Okay who am I fighting today🥊

oscarpiastri: See u in Bahrain (finally)

> yn.adams: FINALLY!!!

> oscarpiastri: You‘ve become busy since becoming a world star🥲

fan: SHES COMING TO BAHRAIN!!!

> fan: FINALLY!! Its been ages

fan: Has she ever been to a race??

> fan: Well… I mean obviously LMAO😭

fan: U supporting Red Bull or Mclaren this weekend?

> yn.adams: Rbr obviously!! Not even Oscar can get me into that orange Garage🤨

> oscarpiastri: It’s PAPAYA!!!

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*~*~*~*~*~*

"GOOD MORNING!!!", an australian accent yelled into your ear just moments after you entered the Bahrain paddock.

You flinched, immediately slapping the person’s arm. "Daniel!!!", you called and pushed the driver away from you as he tried to pull you into a hug.

"I‘ve missed you so much", he mumbled, pressing you close to him and ruffling your hair after, which made you slap his hand away from your head.

"You seen Osc yet?“, you asked, looking around you, spotting a few photographers whose camera’s where direct to you. Daniel shook his head. "Nope, I thought you‘d come together. I‘m surprised you’re only here now."

You rolled your eyes and kept walking with Daniel. "I was on a video call with my team, discussing the upcoming tour. We gotta work out a schedule and call the venues and stuff", you replied. "We‘ve been on there even before the album came out and I still haven’t completely made up my mind."

"Indecisive little shit", Daniel laughed, making you slap his arm with a chuckle. You made your way to the Red Bull hospitality, Daniel waving at a few people from Mclaren that he was still friends with even after he left the team at the end of the 2022 season.

"I think Kelly and P are in there", he told you before hugging you goodbye. "If you see Oscar, tell him I‘m looking for him", you said, smiling and ruffling through Daniel‘s hair as some sorta revenge, before quickly stepping back and running up the stairs to the entrance.

Daniel laughed and pointed a finger at you. "I‘m gonna get you back!" You giggled and waved as you walked backwards into the hospitality.

Looking around the room you quickly spotted Kelly with her daughter Penelope sitting on a creme coloured couch.

"Heyy, honey", she greeted you and got up to hug you. "Hey, darling", you then said and lifted Penelope up who was reaching her arms out to you.

Just when you sat down, your phone chimed with a new message.

Osc🧡: Meet me in front of Mclaren

You: I‘m not going in tho

Osc🧡: Well I can’t really walk into Red Bull can I?

You: 🙄okay

"I‘ll be back soon, Oscar just texted", you let Kelly know and high fived P who giggled as you did. Jeez, how much you missed that little sunshine!

You glanced around the front porch of Mclaren‘s hospitality but didn’t spot Oscar. And as you didn’t just want to walk into the building you stayed where you were, next to the steps leading up to the entrance.

"You walked in with Danny, right?", someone spoke behind you, making you turn around. The confused expression on your face quickly leaving when you came face to face with the other Mclaren driver.

He sat at one of the tables with another curly haired guy and a blonde girl.

You nodded. "Yeah", you simply said. "You wanna come up here?", he asked, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

You‘ve never spoken to Lando Norris, all you knew about him was through stories from either Oscar or Daniel. You knew that he spent some of his winterbreak with Danny and Martin in Australia. Daniel had asked you to come along as well but you were busy with the release of your new album so you had to decline.

You looked around you one last time, trying to find Oscar but failed, so you nodded and took the few stairs up to the table the three of them were sitting at.

As you stood directly in front of them, you saw how the blonde girl recognized you. You‘ve always been good at reading people but over the last years you‘ve become incredibly good at telling whether people recognized you when facing them. Even if they try their hardest to hide it, that small second when their eyes widen in realization was enough for you to tell.

"I‘m Lando", he introduced himself, holding a hand out to greet you. "Y/n, nice to meet you", you smiled, trying to ignore the urge to tell him 'I know, I‘m friends with Daniel and Oscar'. "Max and Pietra, friends of me", he then gestured over to the people sitting across from you.

"So, how do you know Daniel?", Lando asked, crossing his arms on the table. "I‘ve known him since I was 8 years old, I think", you smiled, remembering tiny 8 year old you giggling and blushing when first talking to Daniel at the British Grand Prix. "Really?", his eyes widened. "How did you meet?" "Uh, through my dad, he‘s from Australia as well", you answered, leaving out most of the details.

"You‘re australian?", Lando questioned with raised eyesbrows. "No no, my dad is. My mom‘s from America and I kinda grew up between California and Canberra", you explained.

"However, for some reason she likes to ignore her australian origin", a voice said behind you, making you smirk as you recognized the familiar Melbourne accent.

You turned around in your chair and stood up before wrapping your arms around Oscar. "Hey, princess", he laughed. "How‘ve you been?"

"Bit stressful with Tour at the minute but it feels so good to be back here!", you grinned.

As you turned back to the other three, you couldn’t help but notice Lando‘s confused face. Maybe it was the fact you basically jumped Oscar or that he‘d called you 'princess', something he‘s been doing ever since your first Tour when you got gifted a little crown from your fans because it matched the dress you were wearing on stage.

"I se you‘ve made friends already, might wanna stay here for the race?", Oscar asked with a smirk. You slapped the back of his head in an affectionate way. "Nuh uh, nice try, Piastri", you chuckled. "I‘ll be watching from Red Bull, you know that."

The confused expression on Lando‘s face only seemed to deepen with everything you said so you gave him a quick explanation. "My father used to work at Red Bull, so it‘s the team I‘ve grown up with and I‘m not leaving that."

Oscar snorted at you little white lie but you rammed your elbow into his side to get him to keep quiet.

Lando nodded, still slightly confused by the way you and Oscar acted with each other but before he could question it, a team member walked out of the door and told the two drivers to start getting ready for the race.

"I‘ll see you later, okay? You‘re driving back with Daniel?", your best friend asked. "I haven’t talked to him about it but-" "Okay, then I‘m taking you back to the hotel", he interrupted you with a grin.

"Jeez, splitting my time with you two like you‘re my parents", you laughed but agreed and hugged the driver goodbye.

"Bye, bye!", you waved to Lando, Max and Pietra before walking back over to Red Bull.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After the race and all the podium celebrations, you waited in front of the Mclaren hospitality for Oscar, scrolling mindlessly on your Twitter while ignoring the 22 unread messages from your management.

"Hey, Y/n", a voice said behind you, making you look up from your phone. "Lando, hi. Congrats on your race", you smiled. "Thanks, could’ve been better but we‘ll try again next week", he shrugged.

"Jeddah, right?", you asked, not having memorized the calendar quite yet. The driver nodded and played around with the orange lanyard in his hands.

"You coming?", he dared to ask after a few seconds and from the way his fingers fiddled with the orange band faster, you could tell how nervous he was. You shrugged. "I don’t know yet, I’m quite busy with work at the minute, so probably no. But I‘ll definitely be in Melbourne", you replied, trying to lighten the mood by adding the last sentence.

"Pietra told me you’re a singer", he revealed, making you smile at the memory of the blonde girl. "I could tell she recognized me", you admitted. Lando chuckled. "She said she tried her hardest to not let it show but was freaking out on the inside! She‘s actually quite mad at herself for not asking you for a picture!"

You giggled again and shook your head. "She could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded", you said with a small smile. "If she’s at a Grand Prix just let me know and I promise I‘ll find her." "I‘ll let her know", he nodded and looked to the ground with the cutest smile you have seen in a while.

The combination of the brunette curly hair, the british accent, the smile and his dimples, drove you crazy and made you heart skip a few beats. But you tried your best to keep it together.

Little did you know that Lando quite literally felt the same about you. Your long hair, along with the color of your eyes and especially your smile made his heart beat a little faster as well.

You stayed in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other admiringly before a voice interrupted your starring.

"Princess!! Sorry for being late!", Oscar called while walking out of the hospitality with Lily‘s hand in his. You smiled at the sight of your best friend’s girlfriend and send her a little wave which she returned with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Oscar‘s.

"That‘s okay, I had Lando to keep me company", you chuckled, making the brit smile a little. "You ready?", Oscar asked and you nodded.

He said goodbye to Lando and started walking down the stairs.

"I’ll see you in Australia?", Lando asked one last time. You nodded your head with a smile. "Oh for sure, I wouldn’t miss this race for the world!", you chuckled. "Great!", Lando whispered under his breath and gave you a little wave which you returned before following Oscar and Lily.

"What do you think of him?", Oscar asked as soon as Lando was out of hearing range. "Lando? He’s pretty cute", you simply stated, not daring to mention the other words floating around your head. Nice, pretty, gorgeous, hot and handsome were just a few examples.

"Why do you ask?"

Oscar smirked. "No reason, really!"

tagged: redbullracing, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri

yn.adams: bahrain dump (feat. my two favorite aussies)

comments:

oscarpiastri: You‘re an aussie as well…

> yn.adams: But I‘m not tho…🤷‍♀️

> oscarpiastri: Y/n🤨

danielricciardo: I‘m shown before Oscar

> yn.adams: rolling my eyes as we speak

> fan: LMAOOO

fan: Am I seeing you in the Mclaren garage?

> yn.adams: JUST FOR A SECOND!!!

fan: The race weekend is better when ur there

liked by yn.adams

fan: How does she know Oscar and Daniel??

> fan: Through her dad obviously

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landonorris started following you

Part 2

taglist

Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @kiskso @honethatty12 @namgification

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #oscar piastri #daniel ricciardo #mark webber #ln4 #quadrant #landoscar #dando #landan #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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prettymonegasque · 3 months

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not acceptable

Charles Leclerc x fem!driver! reader

Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do when your pretty boyfriend is a lil dumb

Warnings: Excessive cursing, Lando slander, grown men sharing a single brain cell, fluff?

Word Count: 1.3k

Based on my favourite scene in Schitt’s Creek

In all the two years you’ve been in Ferrari, the speculations and rumours of you dating Charles were non-stop. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were both in happy relationships. However, that changed in the summer of ‘22 when you broke up with your partner. It wasn’t messy and you both agreed it was for the better. You focused on the rest of the season.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘23, you and Charles were both single. You decided to give in to the speculations and give the relationship a real shot. You went on a few dates, each one being more fun than the previous one. Yet neither of you took the leap to become exclusive. You both liked each other but it wasn’t said out loud as much as you would’ve wanted to. So when Charles invited you to a game night with his friends, you thought it would be the one where he introduced you as his girlfriend.

You knocked on his apartment door at 7 pm. You had brought a charcuterie board because you panicked and the first thing your mind thought was cheese.

“Y/N! Come in.” Charles opened the door and hugged you. You tried your best to return while managing the charcuterie board. He laughed at your struggle, took the board from your hand and led you in. You spotted some familiar faces in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Y/N. My teammate as you know.” To risk being dramatic, the only description for what you felt was “death by a thousand cuts”. You still forced a smile and greeted everyone. You took a seat on the sofa next to Charles. “You brought a charcuterie board?” Pierre asked puzzled. “Dibs on gouda.” Yelled a familiar Brit.

**************

For the next few hours, you forced yourself to forget about your “teammate” and focus on the game instead. To everyone’s surprise, you were very good at Monopoly. You had already collected over $7000 worth of assets. You were more than happy to win by default. Arthur suggested Uno and everyone complied. You had never played it before which made the group very happy.

When you got your cards you leaned over to Charles and whispered “What the fuck should I do now? ” Charles peeked at your cards and by instinct you shied them away from him. “You have to show me the cards so I can tell you what to do.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes and showed him the cards. “How the hell did you get 3 +4 cards?” “Why? Is that bad?” “No no. It is very good and I am very grateful my turn is before you.” “I am gonna crush these motherfuckers” You silently giggled.

“Y/N your turn,” Andrea called out. You placed the +4 card on the table. “Seriously?” Lando sighed and took 4 cards from the deck. “I thought you'd never played this before.” “I haven’t. I’m just that good, Norris.” “You know you could put all the +4 cards at once? ” Charles whispered in your ear. When your turn came again you placed both your +4 cards down. “Oh come on. You’re an absolute ass.” Lando exclaimed. “You just got destroyed by a UNO rookie, Lando” Pierre doubled over in laughter. “Also you have only one card left. You can call out UNO” Arthur nudged you. “UNO!” You yelled. “Well, I guess we have a winner. ” Lorenzo sighed and folded.

You started feeling a little guilty. Your winning spree kept cutting the game short. It didn’t look like anyone was having any fun. Even if Charles isn’t going to introduce you as his girlfriend, you still want his friends and brothers to like you as Charles’ girl. Charles brought in Scrabble as his last resort. He wasn’t expecting to go through 2 games so quickly. You were chosen as the judge. You promised yourself to go easy on everyone. You weren’t sure if you were making a good impression on everyone but boy did your ego love this.

**************

“What do you mean ‘rizz’ isn’t accepted?” Arthur yelled. “Mate it isn’t in the dictionary.” “Then why does everyone call Lando ‘NoRIZZ’?” “Hey!” “I consider it as an acceptable word. We know the meaning. It exists. It’s a word.” You chimed in. “Thank you!” Arthur smiled and added 13 points to himself. The game continued and you limited yourself to simple words. And you accepted every word regardless of how ridiculous it was.

“Yes Pierre ‘Fuck’ is a word.”

“I mean we all know what ‘OMG’ is”

“Sure, Charles. You can make Frenglish words.”

You could physically feel the pain from the insanity of some words but you were on a mission. You nodded and smiled and carried on. The words became chaotic by the minute. Your last straw was when Lando argued that “Skibidi” should be accepted.

“That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. I respect the game too much to put up with this. You are way too old to use the word ‘Skibidi’, Lando.” “Yeah so wrong, Lando” Pierre fakes disappointment. “You! Fuck is not acceptable.” “Not acceptable. Yes sorry, Y/N” He bites back a laugh. “OMG!? Are you kidding me?” “I wasn’t.” Lorenzo shakes his head. “And my boyfriend sits there looking pretty and wanting to make up Frenglish words. THAT’S NOT EVEN A LANGUAGE. NOT ACCEPTABLE!”

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Charles looked up at you. “I said Lando is old.” You tried to shift the conversation. “Why the fuck am I getting slandered?” “No. I think it was something about your boyfriend being pretty and making up words.” Charles redirects you. “Um... I don’t remember saying that.” You mumbled. “Yeah no. That’s what we heard. Right Arthur?” Pierre snickered.

“Hey if my girlfriend says Frenglish isn’t acceptable then it isn’t, guys” Charles smirked. “Or it is. I don’t remember saying it.” You shrugged. “So you can do whatever you like.” The ceiling looked much more interesting than the gorgeous green eyes looking at you. “I think our work is done here. Let’s go guys.” Lando stood up. “And what exactly was that work, Norizz?” You called out as everyone was walking out the door chattering. Lando just smiled at you and closed the door.

You and Charles remained quiet and just looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t k-” “Do you r-” You both spoke at the same time. Gentle giggles echoed in the silence. “I was gonna ask if you regretted it?” Charles looked at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “No. God no. Charles, I don’t regret it at all. But to be honest, I kinda thought you hosted this game night to introduce me as your girlfriend. It sucked ass when you called me your teammate.” You looked down at your feet. You contemplated if sitting down would make this whole shebang less awkward. But Charles quietened your thoughts by standing up and taking your hands in his.

“Cherie, seconds before you knocked, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I really really like you and I wanted us to be official but I didn’t know what you felt. The guys were there for emotional support because I do not trust myself with any high-risk situation.”

“You drive a car at 300 km/hr almost every weekend.”

“Please. That is nothing compared to you. Every time I get in the cockpit, I’m more worried about your safety than mine. I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend. Trust me the word was on the tip of my tongue but I was being a pussy and chickened out. I’m so glad you did it tho.” His smile made those adorable dimples pop as he hugged you. “I’m so glad I did it too.” Your voice came out muffled with your cheek pressed against his chest.

“And I’m so glad you called me pretty.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #schitt's creek #schittscreekedit #netflix #fanfics #pretty monegasque

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jishyucks · 3 months

Text

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious,

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right?

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips.

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper.

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first.

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it!

Your Secret Admirer

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it.

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!”

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other.

“Y/N! Hey!”

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!”

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?”

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.”

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight.

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.”

“Huh? How do you know that?”

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.”

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes.

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.”

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose.

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?”

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun.

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?”

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.”

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.”

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then.

“Down bad for who?”

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former.

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.”

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.”

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears.

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes.

And you nod.

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought.

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating.

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was.

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.”

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department.

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.”

“Subtle, how?”

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats.

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there.

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below.

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards.

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee.

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.”

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.”

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything.

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet.

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.”

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions.

“Just… I don’t know who it is….”

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out.

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.”

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy.

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of.

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.”

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!”

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task.

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home.

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right.

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze.

Shit.

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked.

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!”

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?”

“What are you still doing here?” you ask.

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up.

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company."

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!”

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home.

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy."

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.”

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same.

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully.

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing.

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you.

You realize that that was a mistake.

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’.

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present.

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck.

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk.

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier.

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was.

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was.

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it.

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin?

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle.

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random.

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out.

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work.

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about.

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky.

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them.

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it.

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief.

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?”

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass.

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations.

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present.

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk."

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup.

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?”

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.”

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff.

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.”

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.”

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!”

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno.

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not).

Jeno’s bottle was broken.

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway.

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt.

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!”

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?”

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence.

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?"

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?”

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns.

“Of course I like you!” You’re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?”

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.”

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

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optimist-pine · 24 days

Text

Dream

Summary: in which Daryl discovers something about his heart

Warnings: Typical TWD content

Word Count: 1,021

Era: Season 4, the Claimers

A/n: The most selfish thing I've ever written - but also my favorite <3

Wooden boards creak beneath the soles of his boots as he climbs the stairs of the cozy cottage. Beside the front door, using the wall as a brace, he toes off mud-caked shoes, adding them to the pile of others, all smaller than his own. Dried clumps of dirt scatter about, some falling through gaps in the porch to join the barren ground below. The lanky old tomcat abandons sunbathing to rub lazily against his pantleg with a purr, and Daryl appeases him with a good scritch under the chin.

The screen door is unlocked as always, and as he crosses the threshold into the home his heart settles into a comfortable lull. A breeze flows in through open windows, ruffling faded curtains and artwork made by tiny hands taped to walls; fluttering the pages of a book laying open and knocking over pieces of a board game strewn about the floor. It fills the space with the gentle sounds and smells of early summer. Blooming flowers and birdsong.

He sets his kill down as he passes through a kitchen that bears the remains of freshly baked muffins, few left intact in an abundance of crumbs. Out of a cooling teapot wafts a pleasant blend of lavender, cinnamon, orange, and clove.

He pauses for a moment before the back door, listening as laughter and high-pitched squeals echo just beyond it. Then, pushing his way to the other side, his heart leaps. He's barely taken a step when he's bombarded.

"Daddy!" Voices shout as a tangle of little arms entrap him, tiny bodies clinging to his legs and stepping on his toes. A baby's happy shrieks add to the clamor of giggles as he ruffles sun-warmed heads, attempting to tug his feet forward.

But then they get him down and he lands with an 'oomph' in the soft grass, sharp elbows and knees clambering across him like he's a new piece of playground equipment to explore. The dog's licking his face, and the baby's hands clap excitedly and now everyone's laughing.

"Woah woah woah, time out." And there you are. You lean over the chaos with a grin, the sun framing your silhouette as tree branches sway behind you. You smell like spearmint and lily of the valley, cheeks pink from working the garden, and as your hand comes to rest on the slight bump of your belly he knows he's never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Did ya leave somethin' dead on my table again, mister?" You question, hands moving to your hips in an attempt to be stern.

There's no getting away with denying it, so he'll plead his case instead. "Ain'tcha gonna help me out 'ere?" He asks, reaching a hand up to you.

You ignore it with a shake of your head. "Guilty men must pay for their crimes." With a sharp nod, you turn to the children. "Show 'im his punishment." You instruct, bare feet making way to gather up the baby who's beginning to feel left out.

Those itty-bitty fingers are too good at finding every secretly ticklish spot, and he can only hold out for so long before he has to wriggle away from their assault.

On his feet again, he reaches out and spins you toward himself breathless and spirited. "Guess if 'm already a criminal I migh' as well steal'a kiss." He says, moving his hand to cradle your bump and the little one growing inside.

"Might as well, huh?" You repeat, the smile on your face so radiant that when your lips touch an overwhelming contentment courses through him. A soft, pudgy palm lands on his cheek and the two of you pull apart to the wide eyes and dulcet coos of the baby. He cups his other hand around the little head, placing a tender kiss on top.

The little rascals waste no time returning to their ruckus, tugging at him to follow. "Daddy, c'mon! We gotta show you somethin'!"

"Yeah! C'mon, Daddy!" The voice cries.

But he's stuck in place, unable to move as everything begins to fade away.

... No... Daryl can feel consciousness pulling at him, roughly dragging him into a new day. He begs his mind to stay; to linger. He never wants to leave this moment, a memory of something that never happened - that would never happen. But he can't stop it and he wakes on the cold cement, eyes opening only to focus on the bloodied floor where a man took his last breath a few hours ago.

He knows now. He can't stay with these people. The desperate ache in his chest reminds him of everything he'll lose if he gives up now. Even if all he loses is a dream. It would be too much.

That night, ready to make his move and depart from the men while they're distracted, he hesitates, just for a second, his heart dropping suddenly into his stomach. It's Rick, and Michonne, and... you. Sitting on a log right there, so close, face illuminated in the flickering firelight. Even in the darkness, he can see the swell of your abdomen holding his future - your future.

Your eyes find him at the same time that the barrel of a gun is aimed at your head. He's never felt a fury like he does now, all-devouring and consuming...

When it's over, you pull him close, burying your face into him like you can hide away in the folds of his clothes and the beat of his heart. His arms wrap around you so tightly, and oh - how he wishes he could keep you right here, where he knows you'll both be safe and protected. But he can't.

You pull away slightly, just enough to whisper, "We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

He nods, one hand on your belly and the other bringing your head back to his chest. Just for one more moment. He desperately wants to tell you his dream. To tell you that he believes that too. But he settles for, "I love you."

Your voice echoes back, clear and true, "I love you too."

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 4 #optimist pine

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sinofwriting · 6 months

Text

Figlia Mia - Charles Leclerc (Part Two)

Words: 1,927 Summary: What do the 2024, 2025, and 2026 season look like with Enzo Ferrari’s granddaughter having taken over the Ferrari F1 team? Read part one here Note(s)/Warning(s): This is a very different fic to what I normally write. The story is mainly told with news headlines and only has 3 blurbs in it. But if you want me to expand on anything in the news headlines or want to see a part three told also with news headlines for the 2027, 2028, and 2029 season let me know! And thank you to @eleetalks for the Italian translation! Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but: How I write the drivers in these fics is not based on my feelings for them, it is just what I need them to be.

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

2024

January 2025

“I feel like I’m in trouble.” Daniel jokes, as he follows her through the hallways. “I think you just like being trouble.” He grins at her, winking. “Gotta keep you on your toes, huh.” She shakes her head, but grins. “Was the drive okay?” “Better than most. I’ve got a room at the hotel for the next few days as I house hunt.” “No flat?” He scoffs, “for three years? And with the amount of development we’re doing? Fuck that. I’ll go crazy.” She hums, sending a smile to Anita as they pass by her who tuts when seeing Daniel.

“What was that about?” “Anita likes her peace. It’s why she’s worked for us for so long.” “I can be peaceful!” He protests and then immediately makes a face. “Okay, I can try.” She snorts, shaking her head as they reach the dining room.

“Daniel!” Her grandfather greets, a wide smile on his face as he pats Charles hand before the younger moves to her side, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Signor Ferrari!” Daniel cheers, moving to the older man’s side and bending to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re looking amazing. It’s the enchante merch, isn’t it?” He jokes, having sent some to both Ferrari’s right before the 2024 season ended. Enzo huffs out a laugh and she watches Daniel’s face as her grandfather sticks out his leg, sliding his slipper off and Daniel’s jaw drops as he sees the enchante sock on his foot. “Healing properties.” “Holy fuck.” Daniel breathes and they all can’t help but laugh. “I told you, nonno that you’d break him.” Enzo grins at Charles, putting his slipper back on. “I’ve got to keep you kids on your toes.” She rolls her eyes, squeezing Charles upper arm, before moving to properly greet her grandfather. Pressing a kiss to his weathered skin and holding his hand in hers for a few seconds.

“Now tell me as we eat how the car is.” He demands as soon as everyone is sitting and food has been served.

—

“He really overdid it.” Charles murmurs as they both work to get Daniel on the bed. She sighs. “He was talking about house hunting here before we joined. The split hit him a bit harder than I thought.” He frowns, eyes sad as he looks at the man that for a good few years was pretty much his second godfather. “Has he said why?” “Racing. This year was supposed to be his last, but 2024.” She shakes her head, a sad but fond smile on her face. “It really hit him how much he wasn’t ready to leave yet and F1 wasn’t ready for him to leave either. She didn’t want him to go this long, didn’t want to deal with the weird long distance and traveling.” She shrugs. “It sucks, but is fair.” “Is it rude to be grateful that we won’t have to deal with that?” He asks, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her body against his as they look at Daniel, who's starting to really drift off. “No, il mio destino. Only natural.” My destiny He hums, pressing a kiss to her neck before sighing and unwinding their bodies. “Let me take off his jeans so he’ll be more comfortable.” “I’ll get him a glass of water and make sure to put another pillow under his head, when you lay like that your neck always aches in the morning.” The last part is a murmur and he flushes at her remembering that. Such a small, simple thing.

When Daniel wakes up the next morning he groans at the dry throat he has and the gross feeling of not changing before falling asleep for the night. Turning to the left, his eyes close for a quick second as he murmurs a prayer of thanks before reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand and draining it.

It takes a few minutes for the water to settle in him and for him to realize that he doesn’t have jeans on. He blinks, but shrugs. It wouldn’t be the first time he stripped while asleep, but those were one of his tighter pairs of jeans.

“Daniel.” She greets when he stumbles out of the bathroom and finds himself in a small kitchen. “Morning Stella, Charles.” He rubs at his eyes, clearing the last of sleep away as he sits in the small breakfast nook.

Charles and her share an amused look when the smell of coffee makes Daniel perk up, his face instantly brightening.

“That smells amazing.” She passes a cup to him and Charles presses the small basket slash tray of sugar, creamer, and things closer to the Australian. “Thank you.” He murmurs to both of them before doctoring his cup, murmuring another thank you when a small bowl of fruit is placed in front of him, Charles doing the same.

“I had your luggage delivered to the house.” She states when Daniel is fully awake and halfway through his fruit bowl. His brows press together, hand stilling. “What?” Charles brings his cup to his mouth to hide his smile. “Your luggage, it was brought to the house. Nonno is the only person that lives here full time, Anita, Matteo, and Luca live here when we are not and sometimes when we are. And Charles and I have this whole wing to ourselves, this kitchen, a small living space, a few smaller rooms that were converted into offices, and four bedrooms. We’d like to have you live here as well. Or in the guest house.” Daniel blinks at her. He had forgotten how much she steamrolled and bulldozed through things, it made his lips twitch up into a smile before he turned his attention to Charles. “And you're alright with this?” “You’re family.” Charles states and Daniel can feel tears spring to his eyes at the easy way he says it. “We may have lost sight of that for a few years and only regained it recently, but you are family, Daniel.” He swallows thickly, “fuck.” He breathes, a few tears running down his face before he nods. “Alright, kids. I’ll move in.” And then in a move that shocks Charles, Daniel places a hand on the back of his neck and draws him close before he kisses his forehead and the gesture makes Charles well up. “Jules will kill me for letting you drown for so long.” Charles shakes his head and neither man notices that she has left the room, leaving them to a grief that they share. “No. He’ll be proud we became family again.”

May 2025

She smiles as she watches Ferrari get another 1-2 podium, the third of the season already and it was Charles winning his home race once again.

“You are glowing.” “Maman.” She says, turning slightly to look at Pascale. “I promise that we aren’t hiding anything. We just got married. It’s a newlywed glow.” Her mother in law huffs. “And when will I get my grandchildren?” She shakes her head. “You and my grandfather both. Eventually, I promise. Not right now though. Neither of us are ready for that.”

November 2025

“Daniel, do another lap.” “What?” The word comes out a bit loud and harsh but he listens to Stella, ignoring the checkered flag and starting another lap. “What’s going on, Stella?” It’s quiet for another moment but as he approaches the straight, she speaks. “Daniel, congratulations. You are the 2025 world champion!” “What?” He slows as he takes the turn, her words not registering even though it had been all anyone had been talking about since the weekend started. “You won, Daniel! You’re a world champion!” “Holy fuck.” He curses and as he gets on the straight he realizes why she had him continue and he stops the car in the middle of it, grandstands perfectly able to see it as he quickly unbuckles his harness and gets out to stand on the car, raising a fist in the air as he screams.

2026

@cixrosie @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @crystals-faith @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @benstormy @bibliosaurous @skepvids

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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chrissv4mp · 1 month

Text

im on the bleachers🦈

basketball player!matt × gn!reader

warnings: minor injuries, vulgar language

author's note: okayyy, i know i said this was fluff & the warnings seem otherwise, but i swear there's fluff!!

_____________

matt breathed in deeply, looking at himself in the mirror before muttering, "final game of the season, you got this."

"stay calm." he added on, knowing that every time he was on the court he would get a little crazy.

but it's not like it was his fault, the referees were just blind as hell and didn't even know the difference between pivoting with the ball and traveling.

or maybe it was him. whatever, even if it was he wouldn't dare to admit it.

"hurry up, boys! gotta get you kids out there for some warm-ups," coach yelled, his voice echoing off the walls of the locker room.

matt sighed, closing his eyes and taking one more deep breath before throwing his jersey on.

04, under the number was the name of his school, WESTFIELD HS.

"matt!" chris's voice broke the brunette boy out of his trance, looking over his shoulder before turning around fully to look at his brother.

matt couldn't help crack a smile at the excited expression on his brothers face, his eyes bright and his smile big.

"what's up?" matt said, running a hand through his hair.

chris straightened our his jersey, number 03, before looking back up at matt and speaking, "oh. nothing, just wanted to check up on you, you nervous?"

matt nodded, "yeah, but i'm still hopeful. the other team isn't all that, either, but we still need to be strong. and aggressive."

chris nodded, his facial expression serious now, "yeah. hey, let's go to the team, give them a pep talk?"

_____________

"bring it in wildcats!" matt called, and the team was quick to get together, chris going over to matt's side immediately.

the players looked around at one another, giving knowing looks and muttering quiet encouragements.

"hey, today isn't any different than our other games. we always come to win, and what do we always do?" matt asked, and the team responded proudly:

"win!"

matt smiled, "yes, exactly! we need to play with energy and sportsmanship, no matter how pissed the other team gets you. and above all, we need to play aggressive and fast." chris nodded at his brother, his eyes scanning his other teammates.

"so, we're gonna play all the basics. 2-3, box, etcetera. now, everybody knows that the other team isn't that good, they've lost a majority of their games this season and the main reason for it was them not being on defense."

matt inhaled deeply, "some of us have a bit of a problem with that, too, so, we need to always, and i mean always be on our man. everybody just goes to the ball and leaves the other team open."

a boy on the team nodded, knowing that the comment was mainly directed to him.

"even if we don't win, we're still the wildcats, and we'll always have our confidence. no matter what." matt encouraged, giving soft smiles to his team.

"preach, matt." chris laughed, earning some smiles from his teammates.

matt rolled his eyes before putting his fist out, leading the whole team to do the same thing, "wildcats on three!"

"1, 2, 3, wildcats!" the team roared, voices echoing off the gym walls as they parted ways, some players going on the bench and some going onto the court.

coach smiled at matt, giving him a thumbs up before matt went to jog on the court.

matt's attention was quickly turned to the crowd on the other side of the court, his eyes immediately landing on you.

you waved, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand as he waved back.

chris was in the middle, his eyes never leaving the ball as the referee raised it in the air.

matt went into his defense position, getting low and in front of a player from the opposing team.

the tension was high as the gym fell silent, only the sound of quiet buzzing from the scoreboard heard.

then, the referee put the whistle to his lips, and blew. he dropped the ball, and chris swiftly smacked it behind the opponent and into his teammates hands.

"let's go wildcats!" was heard from the sidelines, and as matts teammate dribbled the ball up court and shot a lay-up, the crowd erupted in roars and screams.

well, this was gonna be an easy win.

_____________

this wasn't gonna be a very easy win.

matt groaned in frustration as the ref called a foul on him. he hadn't even touched his opponent!

the wildcats and sharks were neck and neck, 30-30, the scoreboard read.

the opponents coach had waited until they were losing by a lot to put in his best players, and now the wildcats were on the brink of losing a game.

"shit," matt muttered as number 08 on the other team ran up the court.

he pushed himself to run with all his strength, and as nunber 08 went to score, matt jumped up to try and block the shot.

number 23 on the opposite team pushed matt with all his strength, sending him flying onto the floor face first.

he landed on face, his knees sliding on the freshly waxed gym floors.

a loud roar of anger was heard from the wildcats, and the whistle blew many times before the gym was shut up.

"fuck, fuck, fuck!" matt groaned in pain, holding his nose as he breathed heavily.

nick, taking the pictures of the basketball team for school, quickly raced down the bleachers and to his brothers aid.

chris did, too, worry evident on his face as he patted matts back, "you're okay, matt, c'mon, get up."

nick helped matt to sit on his butt, carefully grabbing his chin and noticing his bloody nose.

"it's fine, you'll be okay. we're gonna get up on three, alright?"

matt nodded, groaning as he stood up on the count of three.

his knees ached and so did his nose. shit, there was no way he was going to be able to have more playing time.

sure, his teammates were good, but matt was the best player on the team.

nick and chris walked matt to the sidelines, letting him sit down on the bench before nick handed him his water bottle.

"you okay?" chris asked, tilting his head a bit.

matt nodded, his head fuzzy with frustration.

the game went on, and number 23 got benched & fouled. 1 more foul for the sharks and the wildcats would get two free throws.

1 more basket and the wildcats would win.

the game was getting heated, and people the opposing team were screaming at their teammates.

it had only taken a few missed shots from the wildcats to get matt stirred up, and he shot up from his seat, walking to coach with a passion.

"put me in." he demanded, and in any other circumstance, he would've crumbled in fear at the way his coach looked at him.

he cocked an eyebrow, "you're hurt, matt, we can't risk it."

matt grumbled, looking down at his feet as he balled his hands into fists. why not put him in? he was the best player, and the others were clearly not locked in. he needed to be in there.

"put matt in!" you and nick chanted from the bleachers, making the coach and matt himself turn their attention.

the chant caught on quickly with the rest of the wildcats, even the players that were on the court, currently on timeout.

matt smiled sweetly at you, and you just cheered for him, your heart melting at the way he looked at you.

the brunette boy turned back to his coach, not daring to break eye contact again. he took deep breaths, trying to control himself as he asked once more:

"can you put me in, coach? please." he asked, and this time, coach didn't hesitate to nod.

the people controlling the scoreboard wasted no time in subbing out a worse player for matt, and the brunette boy ran onto the court, determined to win.

the game started back up again quickly, and matt was quick to steal the ball when 06 on sharks were passing the ball in.

he ran down the court, his legs burning and his throat dry. the crowd cheered loudly, and so did his teammates.

even over all the other voices, the only one he listened to was yours, you were the only one he cared about.

he jumped up, the ball rolling off his hand and going up into the air.

matt drowned everybody out, his breathing heavy and his legs tired. the ball spun around the rim not once, not twice, but three times before it fell into the basket and dropped to the floor.

matts eyes widened, and he could finally hear everything. cheers erupted from the wildcats and the coach for the sharks threw his clipboard down.

"holy shit. oh my god!" matt yelled, the realization that he had won the game finally hitting him.

you didn't hesitate to scramble off the bleachers and onto the court, wanting to be the first one to speak to him.

you jumped into his arms, almost sending him falling to the floor, but he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"you won, baby! im so proud of you." you muttered into his shoulder, and he smiled.

"thank you." he whispered.

_____________

matt and you sat at a booth in a local diner, drinking celebratory milkshakes.

you couldn't help but smile as he drank it, putting the cup to his lips before putting it back down, leaving whipped cream on his upper lip.

"what?" he questioned before licking his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh softly.

"nothing. just wanted to look at you. you literally just won the state championships, can i not be proud of you?"

matt smiled softly, hiding his face as he blushed.

"couldn't have done it without my favorite person." he praised, reaching his hand out to yours that was on the table.

...

☆

author's note: AHHH the support on my hcs are insane, I love u guys sm!! hope u guys enjoyed this and also, thank u smsmsmsm for 40+ followers🫶🏼🫶🏼

@chrissturnswife @latinasforchrizz @suyqa @mayhem-72 @sturn-wrld @mattsbbg

#matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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keeksandgigz · 4 months

Note

thinking of eddie helping you braid your hair when you’re getting ready to spend the night

made this about eddie and witchy because i cannot stop thinking about them- this is also for the anon who said they can't stop reading it (thank u hehehe)

fluffy fluff below the cut, witchy being jealous and thinking of hexing his exes <3

He had to drag you into his apartment.

In a hilarious turn of events, due to some kind of San Francisco strike, all metro routes were suspended and there was no way you were going to walk in heeled boots all the way to Twin Peaks.

"Why call an Uber, baby? You can literally come upstairs at mine" Eddie says, watching you huff as you read over the e-mail about the strike.

"No Eddie you don't understand. I need to be home. I have a whole ritual! And silk pillowcases! Why can't you just drive me?" you whine, hoping he'll fold to your requests like he always does.

He grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a tender look.

"Because, my lovely witchy, metro routes being down means there will be absolute pandemonium in the streets. And I'm not trying to stay fifteen minutes stuck in downhill traffic" he laughs as you follow him around the store.

He's still working, you got off an hour before and after walking around the vintage stores for an hour there wasn't much else to do. It's just him in the record shop, working the closing shift. You follow him around trying to convince him to drive you back as he puts back the vinyls in the milk crates, folds band t- shirts, and rearranges patches in the display case.

"C'mon, witchy, just go up. I have Chinese takeout from last night or spaghetti if you wanna cook, I'll stop by the hair place across the block to get you a silk pillowcase. Promise" he says, leaning over the counter to kiss your forehead he opens up the cash till.

"But Ed-" you whine, you've never slept outside of your apartment before.

"No buts, I'm sorry witchy. Now get your cute butt out of here, I've got money out" he says, puckering his lips, ready for a kiss.

You lean over the counter and give him a quick kiss before he hands you the keys to his apartment.

"Don't forget to call Lorraine to get her to feed Circe!" he exclaims before you're out the door. You roll your eyes, of course you'll call Lorraine, your neighbor, if Lorraine existed.

But he doesn't have to know you can feed Circe with a snap of your finger whenever you forget to leave food out in the morning.

So you groan and you go through the backdoor of the store to reach the small, dingy courtyard of his apartment. Second floor, apartment 5C.

This building is so old it doesn't even have an elevator. You reach the door and open it, the rattle of keys falling over the counter is the only sound that can be heard, along with the clack of the short heels of your boots.

You take your shoes off and go through his fridge. Day- old Chinese takeout, a carton of eggs and milk. Three cans of Sierra Nevada, a half- drunk bottle of Coke Zero. You open his freezer.

Honey walnut shrimp and fried rice from Trader Joe's, a bottle of vodka, and a tub of ice cream from the last time you were craving it.

You roll your eyes and pick up the phone.

"Hey Ed, you have jack shit in your fridge. Can you stop by the Greek place down the block? I’ll have a gyro with chicken and falafel on the side” you request, hearing his groan at another chore he has to do post closing.

“Baby the Chinese food in the fridge is pretty good, it’s from the place we always go to” he’s not very convincing, but he’s tired and now lost count of the cash he was counting.

“‘kay i’ll put an online order for it so you just have to go pick it up, sound good?” you ignore him.

“Ugh fine but I better get, like, the biggest kiss in return.“ he groans, but it’s true. He is a weak, weak man when it comes to you. “Get me the pita wrap with lamb and fries, and lemme also get seasoned fries on the side. Thank you witchy, love you gotta go” he says, hanging up the phone.

So you order the food and then sneak in Eddie's bedroom to change into something comfortable. Getting rid of that fine line when clothes felt too much like clothes, the stitching pressing into your skin, the cuffs of your sweater feeling a bit too tight against your wrists, your jeans too tight on your legs.

So you venture in his closet and steal a pair of sweats and a ratty black t- shirt. One of his many. You go to the bathroom and notice there's no mirror. This dude.

So you tie your hair away from your face and use the nice face wash you got him- which you're sure he rarely uses- and wipe the makeup off your face. You go look for a clean towel, 'cause God knows you will not be wiping your face with the hand towel sitting on the rod on the wall.

After your face is clean you plop yourself on the couch and watch TV to pass the time.

Thirty- odd minutes later a rattling of keys startles you. Eddie walks through the door with his arms full of plastic bags. He places them on the counter.

"Hey witchy, I see you've made yourself at home?" he says, as you walk towards him and bury yourself in his arms. At least he smelled nice.

"Hmmm missed you, Ed" you mutter against the fabric of his t- shirt.

"You missed me?" you give a little nod, followed by a hum. His heart beats a bit faster, it's nice knowing you think of him when he's away.

"Aw, witchy. I missed you too, are you hungry?" he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the head as he detaches from your grip and reaches for the bag with the food, taking out the boxes.

"Also stopped by the hair place, got you that silk pillowcase and some shampoo and conditioner to keep here. Doubt you'll wanna use my three in one shit" he snickers, and you blush timidly. He's not sweet in the way that he'll kiss you in the middle of the street, but he is for sure sweet in the way he thinks about you an embarrassing amount of times a day.

"Thanks Ed, you didn't have to do that" you say, and he blushes, the boy tinges himself pink because you appreciate him.

"Y'know, anything for you" he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he brings the takeout boxes to the coffee table.

You follow him and plop down on the couch "I was watching 'Sex and the City' while you were gone" you explain, biting into your gyro.

"Was Samantha being her usual crazy self?" he doesn't even know who Samantha is, but he thinks it's funny to ask you every time. You giggle as he puts on a random show for you to watch.

After an episode Eddie stands up and stretches.

"I'm beat, I think it's time for bed" he says "c'mon, witchy"

You rise from the couch and follow him into the master bathroom.

“I have a toothbrush here for you, I kinda uh-“ from his tone you can tell he’s embarrassed “I got one for here the first time you came over, in case you ever, y’know, wanted to sleep over” he says sheepishly, while you wrap your arms around him.

He offers it to you, it’s pink. Your favorite color.

“Aw, Ed. You’re so sweet, thank you” you say and you swear you can see him blush as you place a delicate kiss on his warming cheek.

This slice of domesticity taken away from the mystic vibe of your apartment really makes you wonder. It makes you think about a normal life, with him.

The way he washes his face like a madman (without face wash), letting the water wet his bangs instead of pulling his hair back, the way he ties his hair up before brushing his teeth.

You take the toothbrush out of your mouth "Ah shtill don' undestand why you don' have a mirrah" you sputter, mouth full as you spit the toothpaste in the sink.

"Why I don't have a mirror? Previous tenant broke it and my asshole landlord still won't fix it" he says, taking off his shirt. Your eyes linger on the lines of his back a little too long, bordering the line between looking and staring.

So you turn around and you try to braid your hair without a mirror, but to no avail, every strand seems to be three different sizes.

You groan in frustration as Eddie approaches you.

"Lemme help, witchy" he says, standing behind you and tending an arm out for a hair tie.

He divides the hair into three strands. Your hair is so soft between his fingers.

He wishes he could stall so that he could caress it for longer, but an impatient yawn escapes your mouth as his hands deftly get to work. Over, under, over, under-

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" you ask, feeling the way he softly holds each strand, making sure he's not pulling at your scalp. You don't see him, but a smile forms around his tongue, peeking out of his lips in concentration. Over, under.

"I had girlfriends before you, witchy. They taught me to braid my own hair" he chuckles, as you try to tune out the word girlfriends. Under, over, under.

He can see a pout form on your lips, he smiles.

"Why'd you need to braid your hair?" you huff, thinking of going on a spiraling rampage and hexing every one of his exes. Over.

"Well" he begins "one time, an ex braided my hair and it came out super curly, so I wanted to try it myself. Turns out it needs to stay in the braid for a while for that to happen" he shrugs.

Under, over, tie.

"All done," he announces, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Thanks, Ed" you examine the braid, flinging it over your shoulder "looks really nice" you say, and give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He gets himself into bed. His bed is oddly comfortable and his sheets smell of laundry detergent.

"I might have been washing my sheets every other day in case you wanted to sleep over" he confesses, blushing, as he lifts his arm, opening the warmth of his chest to you.

"You" you give him a kiss "are literally" another kiss "the sweetest guy" another kiss "in the history of always" last kiss.

He gets flustered when you call him sweet, because under the hardening exterior of black chains and shirts with exploding heads and hooded skeletal figures, there's just a sweet guy who loves you and wants you to like him for being himself.

"Just want you to, you know, have a good experience with me" he says, caressing your head.

"You get an 11/10 Yelp rating, can't recommend to anyone, though. You seem to be preoccupied with a really cool girl, and it seems it's going to go on forever" you giggle, as he smiles and gives you a kiss.

"Go to sleep, cool girl. Goodnight, love you" he says, before turning off his lights.

"Goodnight, Ed" you say, turning over so he can spoon you.

"You have to say it back" he whispers in the quiet of the dark room.

"Right, sorry. I love you too, Ed" you correct yourself and close your eyes, falling into one of the best sleeps you've ever had in your life.

The morning after, Eddie wakes up to his landlord bringing in a new mirror, his hair extra curled and all his exes blocked on his social media. But he doesn't have to know about that last one.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x witchy!reader #modern!eddie x witchy!reader #modern!eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #eddie munson blurb

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farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other.

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio.

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you.

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar.

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned.

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you.

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown.

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context.

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again.

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth.

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off.

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior.

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him.

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable.

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to.

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says.

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more.

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last.

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur.

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing.

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore.

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention.

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours.

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.”

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile.

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?”

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him.

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone.

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high.

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader insert #from the vault #charlie cox #weed cookies

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itoshi-s · 1 year

Text

──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

*.✧ ft. 𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

*.✧ rin puts your early christmas gift to good use.

*.✧ wc: 4k. cw: nsfw, fem reader, very self-indulgent!, pet names (love, baby, pretty girl), the sfw part is sooo sweet i'm melting, slight choking and degradation (rin tells you to shut uponce lol), taking pictures in the act, reader has a belly button piercing. characters are 20+. not proof read // notes: rinnie my one and only <3 thinkin about him lots this christmas season !

"it's no fair!"

rin tries to fight back the amused smile that threatens to pull at his mouth, he really does. it seems like it's no use, though, when he has to hold his arm up to try and block the impact of the wrapping paper on his head.

"you just had to snoop around, didn't you?" you huff, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed from irritation and panic that both burst in your chest upon seeing your boyfriend, innocent as ever, unloading the shopping bags - even though this one single time, you specifically didn't ask him to.

to your horror, you could only watch the realization hit him and face light up as he held the collectors edition of his favorite director's top thrillers. extended and with additional commentary, you just knew it'd make him all giddy the second he unpacks it - he's watched these iconic pieces countless times before, after all, and with his inquiring nature, he'd love to go deeper into the lore.

you’ve hit the jackpot with this gift, that you were sure of, and you couldn't wait to see his reaction - but didn't want it to play out like this.

"i'm sorry," he laughs, sincerely even despite the amusement that lilts his tone. "sorry, love. i don't know what came over me, i should've listened."

you drop the freshly bought roll of wrapping paper onto the table, making sure to glare up at rin as he reaches for you and wraps his arms around your frame. he pulls you close to his chest, sturdy and warm underneath his hoodie, and you can try to huff and puff all you want, but it's just so painfully hard to do it - even playfully so - when he holds you so sweetly. you grumble a bit, something about him ruining his own surprise, and nuzzle your nose against the fluff of his sweatshirt.

"do you like it, though?" you ask, voice muffled but rin hears the hopeful tilt. "s'got all the extra scenes and all. the commentary too." you peek an eye up at your boyfriend, gaze glimmering when you see the smile on his face.

"dumb question." rin mumbles and gives your body a firm squeeze to get his point across. you yelp a bit as he continues, "of course i do. can we watch it tonight? or do i have to wait until christmas?" he teases and rests his hands on the small of your back, pinky finger dipping just barely underneath the waistband of your yoga pants.

you're not cruel and never could be - not with the look your striker boyfriend gives you, excitement pooling in the teal irises behind the thick curtain of black lashes. he's giddy like a little kid and you don't see this side of rin too often, despite him easing up throughout the years. and so,

"sure we can, baby." you unwrap your arms from around his slim waist and instead reach your hands up to cradle his jaw. leaning up, you give him a chaste kiss that tastes like your peppermint chapstick and the cup of flavored coffee he's been sipping on before you came home.

he hums into your mouth, tilting his head and leaning further towards you just when you're about to pull away. it's not enough, he's gotta thank you properly - and so he deepens the kiss, tongue slipping past your lips and lapping slowly, tenderly.

your knees nearly buckle at how it so quickly turns passionate, but as fast as it plays out, it as abruptly stops. rin breathes, lips moving against your own when he speaks. "you want one of yours?" he asks and you furrow your brows a bit.

"hm?"

"a present," he specifies, hands moving to rest on the small of your waist comfortably. he clears his throat, then pecks your lips quickly as he makes up his mind. "actually. just wait a sec."

you make a small sound of protest that falls deaf on rin's ears as he pulls away and dismisses you with a wave of a hand. you huff, watching as he skips up the stairs two steps at a time. you don't really mind how he ignores your whining - it'd be funny if you did, especially with the way rin seems far too excited to return the favor.

it's sweet, makes your teeth ache and heart grow and swell with unbearable amounts of love you hold for this boy - the way his eyes only ever seem to shine so brightly when it's around you.

he walks back into the kitchen barely a minute later, a neatly wrapped small box in his hand and it stirs your interest. you lean back against the kitchen counter, hands mindlessly playing with the hem of your sweater as he steps closer.

"god i hope you didn't spend too much." you blurt out before any thought filters it, and rin laughs as you blink once, purely out of worry. "what? don't laugh at me!"

"so what if i did?" rin quips, a teasing lilt to his voice but it still makes your shoulders and eyes drop, as if to say, oh, you didn't. he cracks a smile, feels the corners of his mouth twitch as he hands you the package. "kidding, baby. open up, you'll love this."

you've never really been too big on surprise gifts, always opting for more useful and handy presents, but that never meant you were any kind of ungrateful. both giving and receiving gifts were only ever fun because of how much thought the other person paid to making it, you thought, and the certainty and confidence in rin's voice makes you all the more excited.

as your fingers work on the light brown paper, rin speaks.

"it's not really big or anything, but i know you loved your last one.” oh- “it actually makes so much more sense to give it to you a little early, too."

you already have a clue what might be hiding behind the paper even before you finally pull the box out - and surely, there is a brand new baby pink polaroid camera, blinking right back at you from the packaging.

it might not be much to some, but it is everything to you - and rin instinctively opens his arms when you gasp and lean into him, some sort of an one arm hug and attempt to keep close to him.

"oh my god!" you sound breathy with excitement as you unbox the camera, feel the way it fits in your small hands all over again. "you remembered," you mumble, eyes darting back up to your boyfriend as if in disbelief.

rin shrugs, offers you an interested look instead. "yeah, it's been months since you lost the other one," he points out, "and i figured you'd want to take some pictures this season..."

it's no surprise he remembered, nor is the fact he's thought it through so well. it's rin, and he keeps everything in this mind of his. (he really does. trying to beat him at buying the most accurate present is useless, cause he'll always end up shocking you anyway.)

you stare down at the camera, fingers now aching to hold it up properly, to press down on the shutter. you smile to yourself, glancing up to see teal ones already looking down at you expectantly. he doesn't look nervous per se, but there's definitely a hint of anticipation.

"i love it," you grin, earnest and sweet as you take a step or two away, holding the camera up to your face. you look through the tiny lens, adjusting the angle so that the entirety of rin's body from waist upwards fits. "grab the present." you instruct, one eye peeking up from behind the camera.

he complies, reaches for the box and holds it up, until there's just a pair of bright turquoise irises staring right back at the lens from behind the package. the christmas tree twinkles faintly in the back, warm light fuzzy behind rin's broad shoulders. "good?" you nod, mouth pulling into a smile at the sight and without further wait, you press down on the shutter.

rin puts the package back down, gaze all the while focused on you, and he's glad he keeps watching - otherwise, he'd miss out on the joy written all over your face as you delicately pull the cartridge out. "first one down!" you chirp, the happy sound bleeding into a laugh.

he thinks he could eat you whole if it was the only way to savor all of you, so sweet and pure and all his.

you place the camera down on the kitchen table, flapping the photo around to speed up the process, "this is exciting." you muse and rin notes the way you bounce on your heels a little, a tell tale sign of how thrilled the gift's made you feel. "you gonna be my model again, rinnie?"

a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your waist, manhandle you just enough to plop you down on the counter. he noses at your neck, the spot just below your jaw that makes you shudder when he mouths at it, and rin hums with thought.

there's already a pile of various polaroids of him, sitting in one of your drawers and waiting for their turn to be tucked behind your phone case - but he'd be silly to mind any of it.

he used to be silly in his teenage years, blushing and protesting whenever you’d angle your camera at him, eyes fleeing away bashfully. what’s all that for? he asked once, a miffed expression on his face as he crossed his arms and slumped in his seat a bit. you laughed, thumb pressing down on the little heart on your screen to save the picture to your favorites. so that i can keep looking at you when you’re across the globe again, you retorted lightheartedly, eyes focused on your screen still but the fond smile you wore pulled at rin’s heart by it’s own. he gulped, aquamarine eyes boring into your oblivious features, and he vaguely remembers thinking that he’s fucked and done for - he was in love with you already, but that day he felt it suck him in deep, until there was no air to breathe and his soul soaked through with you, you, you. rin cleared his throat, straightening up in his seat as he leaned forward on the table.

you peeked an eye up at him, a short hum of question accompanying the look, and he gnawed on his bottom lip with anticipation. take another, he said then, voice softer than minutes ago and he swore he could see a spark ignite behind your irises. i don’t mind.

it might’ve been years since he fell in love with you all over again, but the heat still rises in his chest all the same upon the sight of you aiming your camera at him. he’s grown so addicted to the adoring look you’d give him after each taken snap and he’s selfish, doesn’t want to deny himself the sight - and so, rin presses a kiss to your jugular as he murmurs,

“mhm. whenever you wish, love.”

it's suffocating, the way rin doesn't take no for an answer as he works his way down, mouthing and nibbling on your scorching skin. your whining falls on deaf ears as you push at his head, the air in your lungs growing hot and blood rushing through your veins. he just doesn't listen, even as you try to reason that there's not nearly enough time to be doing this now, that the guests will be there in two hours and you didn't turn the timer on the oven so you have to keep an eye on it. he only gives a slight grunt and ignores your whining.

you should've seen it coming, parading around in just a pair of shorts and a long sleeve top that's so tight, rin could make out the way your hardened nipples poked through the thin cotton. he's amused, he really is, with the shocked look behind your bambi eyes as he pulled you in for a kiss far too hungry and desparete to fit in the kitchen scenery - what else did you expect?

now he has you spread on the living room floor, the wool carpet rubbing against your bare skin and chaffing his knees as he moves to rest between your legs. maybe it is the mulled wine that both you and rin enjoyed earlier or maybe it's the close proximity of the fireplace that brings a few droplets of perspiration to collect across your hairline, cheeks flushed red and eyes bleary as you speak,

"rin-" it comes out as more of a moan than a proper sound, accompanied by your eyes rolling back when one of rin's hand reaches to grab at your mound. the thin silk of your shorts feels cool against your heated skin and urges you to shudder. "baby, i'm serious, we don't have the time," you insist, voice almost pleading.

your arms twitch to prop you up, lean up just a bit to try and catch your boyfriend's gaze, but the wake of kisses he keeps pressing to your tummy is enough to make your head roll backwards instead.

rin nearly purrs against your abdomen, palm rubbing on your clothed cunt as he mouths at the smooth skin. his teeth skim over the swarovski sitting neatly at your belly button, give a gentle, playful tug that makes your toes curl. "we do," he mumbles and your jaw slacks in defeat.

he can make it quick, he supposes. of course he can, and he will, if it's the one single rule he has to play by in order to get his fill. in fact, he still hadn't touched you properly yet and the thin material of your shorts already seems soaked through... yeah, it'll be quick.

you gasp, loud and trembling when rin's mouth eventually reaches your heat. he slides a hand up to grab at one of your tits, tongue lolling out to take a long lap up your folds and he groans. catching your nipple between two fingers and giving an experimental roll and tug, he watches your chest ripple with moans that get caught somewhere deep in your throat. you keen breathily, the arch in your back abruptly smoothed out by rin's forearms pressing down on your hips.

the grip of time doesn't let you fully submit to the pleasure still, body taut and head spinning. it holds you back, a film over your mind, and so you try again, "rinnie-"

"shut up," rin grunts, mouth full of cunt and large palm kneading at the swell of your breast. he glances up at you from his spot between your thighs, eyes hazy and heavy with desire. "need y'now, baby. so be good for me." his lips move against your folds as he speaks, the friction making your eyes roll back. "i'll be quick."

you've no problem trusting his words, considering he's proven countless of times how he has your body memorized better than any technique or strategy. you gasp, fingers tugging at the dark green strands and as if instinctively, you push him closer to where your heat is throbbing and leaking pathetically onto his awaiting tongue.

rin senses your surrender, feels it in the way your thighs tighten by his ears and how your clit throbs in his mouth. his eyes flutter, desire pooling in his gut and twisting as he groans. "good girl." he croons and gives your cunt a sloppy kiss, one that has you squealing at the lewd sound.

his tongue dips past your opening, nose nudging against your clit as he slurps and suckles. you've got so much to give him, it's always so much, too much considering he knows no restraints. your tummy feels warm and pussy flutters upon the familiar pull of your orgasm building up.

"gonna cum," it's more of a whimper than anything and rin's fingers twitch on the swell of your breast.

he gives your clit a suck, soft and languid as his tongue flattens on your folds and laps, and white hot pleasure sears through your veins. it's sudden considering rin's pace, as if lazy yet desperate at the same time - passionate - and makes your body seize up, hands tugging on his hair as you grind all across his mouth. you ride out your climax, shameless in the way you use his tongue to prolong the sparks of pleasure, and rin can only groan at the treatment.

by the time he pulls away and sits back on his heels, the very last wave of bliss is still rolling down your thighs, chest heaving and eyes only fluttering open upon rin's warmth leaving you. you watch as he eases his sweats down, just enough to let his cock spring free, and your brows furrow.

"spread 'em a bit more." rin instructs, voice a gravelly hum as he reaches over to grab a cushion or two from the couch. you obey, thighs trembling with the remnants of your orgasm, and rin gives a sound of satisfaction.

he doesn't waste time to speak, instead slides a hand under your hips and easily lifts your ass off the floor to place the pillows underneath. you fist at the carpet, eyes following one of his hands that wraps around the girth of his cock and gives a few strokes.

"fuck." rin sighs, shimmies around a bit to eventually kick off his sweats before he aligns himself at your core. "you were whinin' around not even ten minutes ago.. look at yourself now." you give him a look, both urging him to hurry and begging to shut up. he smirks, confidence warm in his veins as he spreads your wetness on his reddened tip, teases your clit with the way it catches. "say please."

you groan in protest and rin laughs, lighthearted at the sight of your annoyed expression. he wipes it right off your features with just a single forward roll of his hips, and gasps at the initial resistance your snug walls give him.

"please," you whimper, hands resting on top of his as he lays them on the small of your waist. he urges himself deeper, bottoms out until his thighs press against your own and your cunt squeezes down on him right to the very base. "fuck me good." you breathe and watch rin's eye twitch.

he lands a smack to the side of your ass, sharp enough so that it elicits a mewl from between your lips, and he tightens his grip on your hips. "that's more like it."

the downright mean lilt to his baritone makes your pussy twitch, blush spilling down your cheeks as he sets his rhythm. it's rough and urgent, gives away the desperation building up in rin's chest and ghosting behind his turquoise eyes.

head tilting backwards, you gasp and sputter when the tip of his cock bullies right at your cervix. your legs kick out involuntarily and rin's eyes twinkle with amusement as he thrusts deep, pulls your hips forward to meet his halfway. you keen, body squirming at the pull in your tummy.

rin steadies your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh until he's certain it'll bruise and mark you with his love. "so pretty like this." he rasps, chest rumbling with a groan upon the sight of the tears that cling to your lashline. "my prettiest girl, takes me so well." as if on cue, his gaze drops to where your cunt stretches around his girth, struggling to fit it all in. he feels you leak when he eases himself out a few inches and gives in to the ache in his hand to reach down, thumb gliding across your clit.

you suck in a breath, lungs aching. "please, rinnie." the clammy but oh so featherlight brush of your fingers across his forearm sparks his interest. he knows what you want, the need almost substantial as it radiates off your heated skin when you gently coax his hand around your neck.

lust washes over his senses, thick and heavy as it clings to his conscious and sends a jolt of despair through his flesh. the look you give him, doe eyes glimmering with tears and need, makes his head spin. fingers flexing around your jugular, rin has to swallow back a moan.

"right here, yeah? want me to choke you out?" the tilt to his tone is downright demeaning, hidden behind a coo that turns your brains into mush.

aquamarine eyes glance down to yours, hold your stare as you grow putty in his grip. you nod, quickly so as if you're ashamed of the weight the gesture bears, and whimper upon his hand tightening. "rin- hah, please."

he knocks the breath out of your throat with a single squeeze and leans down to swallow up your moan with a kiss.

"shit. shit," rin feels his shoulders tremble, the exhilaration turning his thrusts erratic and unsteady. he knows he promised to be quick, but the way your cunt milks him and sucks him deeper makes him hope you won't mind if he goes to break his word. he's so ridiculously close, feels the red hot pleasure creep up and it's a pain to deny himself the high.

your thighs involuntarily jerk around his hips, tightening around his hand that still works on your swollen bud. you're close, he feels it, sees it as your mouth parts and eyes threaten to roll back.

you look entirely fucked out, as if you've been laying there at his mercy for hours already - and he wishes he could keep the image engraved into his mind, reach for it on the days where thousands of kilometers keep you away-

huh.

he gets it now.

you give a confused hum when his movement comes to a halt, the grip on your neck loosening just slightly as the other hand leaves your body altogether. you watch questioningly when rin catches his breath above you, a new found interest to his gaze.

before you can voice out your concern, his eyes already move to the coffee table, searching and seemingly finding the thing in question as he reaches over. you tilt your head, following his line of sight, and your breath hitches.

rin steadies himself in his spot between your legs, gives you just the slightest move forward to try and get your features to twist in bliss all over again. blood rushes to your face in embarrassment as you watch him adjust the camera to fit all of you in it's frame.

"holy fuck." it's merely a breath as he speaks, husky with arousal. "you're fucking perfect like this."

the sheer desire in rin's voice might be more than enough to bring you to your climax, you think as he groans, thumb reaching to pad at your bottom lip. he presses down on the swollen flesh, wet and glimmering with spit, and fixes his grip on your neck.

it's sinful, something magazines would kill themselves over to put on their front pages. it exceeds anything he's seen before, the way your eyes stare right through him and the camera, the hem of your shirt hiked up as the smooth skin peeks through. it's addicting, the way your reddened lip obediently rests under his pad as the rest of his fingers stay heavy on your jugular.

it's too much, the entirety of you. you're always everything and too much at the same time.

rin presses down on the shutter, doesn't wait until the cartridge comes out as he gently tosses it to the side. sparing the device a single glance to make sure it's in tact, he corrects his grip on your neck before turning his whole attention back to you.

there's many things that get him riled up even further and you've seen it play out countless times before. (more so, you're always the one to blame for rin losing his sanity.) but the look that he settles on you now is brand new, something borderline lovesick, teetering off the edge of lust.

he flexes his fingers around your neck, vice grip making your head spin and hips jitter when he resumes his thrusts. leaning down, rin lolls his tongue out to lick up your jaw, sticky with perspiration and sweet with the taste of you.

"sorry, love," he rasps right by your ear. "but i can't be quick with you this time."

#✧.* zaria writes #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi #rin smut

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spnhits-blog · 3 months

Text

Abandoned Mansion

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Warnings: fem!reader, slight mentions of abuse, "kidnapping", readers dad was pouge turned kook like kiaras, readers dad is an asshole, snarky jj, slight john b x reader, italics are flashbacks, 7.4k words

A/N: (spoilers-ish) i got the inso from season 3, where JJ saves Kie from Kitty Hawk but with a slight enemies to lovers feel. this is set before s1 even happens. hope you like it, and I'm posting a prompts list so you guys can request!

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JJ and John B were out of Figure 8, working their asses off for some cash. John B luckily was able to score working for the Cameron's doing boat maintenance, while JJ got stuck doing yard work for the Y/L/N's.

JJ hated most kooks out on this island, but he particularly didn't want to be here. Especially when the Y/L/N's daughter would come around. She was Kie's only kook friend, and Kie would always try to convince the pouges to letting her come around sometime but JJ's always been hellbent against it.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and continued mowing the lawn for the last stretch of grass.

"Hey, Maybank!" He heard your dad's voice call out to him. JJ sighed, turning off the motor before looking up to find him on the upper part of big fancy two story house.

"What can I do for ya, sir?"

The man didn't laugh at JJ's obviously fake greeting. "After you get done with the lawn, you're free to go. I gotta take Y/N to the Wreck."

JJ eagerly nodded, quickly turning the motor back on so he could get done as quickly as possible.

Once he had finished, the only thing left to do was put the lawn mower back into the Y/L/N's garage then head out. He thought, why would they even own a lawn mower if they'd never even think about touching it? God, he hated kooks -

"JJ, right?"

He swirled around, seeing Y/n stand in the doorway that connected the garage and the rest of the house. With a slight frown he answered, but turned back to his task of wrapping the cord together in a semi-neat fashion. "Uh, yeah."

Y/n pursed her lips, and rocked to the back of her heels. Her friend Kie always told her how much she loved the pouges, and how they'd all get along if they became friends. But she also knew how much pouges and kooks hated each other, not that she did at all. She thought the entire 'war' on the island was pointless and stupid.

"I'm Y/n." You continued to try to entice him in a conversation. "Kie's told me a lot about you and your friends."

He huffed and threw the cords next to the lawn mower. "Yeah well I haven't heard much about you. Now if you don't mind, I gotta get out of this hell."

She crossed her arms and didn't know what took over her as she followed him out of the garage and towards his bike he quickly hopped on. "I'm just trying to be nice, you can't even have a conversation with me?"

"I'm sorry this is the first time you're not getting your way, princess." He grinned, revving his engine once.

"Y/N! Come here now." Her dad yelled out, standing by their newest car a few feet away from them, narrowing his eyes at the scene of the pouge talking to his daughter.

Y/n looked to her dad and opened her mouth to give an excuse but was cut off by JJ revving his engine again. He wasted no time in staying on figure 8 any longer, and quickly drove out of their driveway and headed back to the cut.

"What were you doing with that pouge, Y/n?"

She scoffed under her breath, watching after the beautiful blonde boy who was almost out of her sight by now. She tucked her hair behind her ears, smacking her lips together and finally pulled herself to get into her dad's car. "Nothing.."

---

"I'm telling you Kie, I think you're wrong."

Kiara ignored her friend as she wiped down the counter at the front of the Wreck. Y/n just finished telling her about the interaction she just had with Kiara's quote on quote, "always a fun time best friend."

"He doesn't like kooks. It'll take some getting used to." She shrugged. Suddenly her head snapped up to look at her girl friend with wide eyes.

"What?" Y/n froze holding the chip she was about to eat close to her mouth but got completely freaked out by Kaira's spaz antics.

"Come to the chateau with me tonight."

"What?!" She practically screeched. Hanging out with the pouges seemed like the worst idea after how JJ and her so nicely got along earlier today. "I'm not doing that."

Kie smiled wide, not taking no for an answer. "You have to, come on. It'll be fun were going out on the HMS, and I know John B and Pope have been wanting to meet you forever." She saw Y/n still not budging. "JJ will be fine, I promise. If not, just ignore him that's what I do."

The two girls laughed, and Y/n squinted her eyes at her pretty best friend. "Okay, okay. I'll come."

"Great, John B is picking us up in 10 minutes."

"You knew I'd cave didn't you?"

"I knew no such thing."

The two girls walked onto the dock, seeing the HMS Pouge pull up to the side of the dock.

"You've got to be kidding me." JJ groaned, throwing his head back, looking at his two best friends with a hateful look. "Why is she coming?"

"Be nice, JJ." Pope spoke up, standing up as the boat got nearer to picking the two girls up.

"Hey, ladies." John B smiled, slowing the boat down next to them.

"Hi, boys." Kie called out, holding up a cooler no doubt filled with drinks and some of their favorite snacks.

Y/n smiled at the boys, "Hey, I'm Y/n."

Pope helped Kie in, while John B held his hand out for Y/n to take and come aboard. JJ sneered at the sight of it, because that's exactly what they needed. Another kook.

John B smiled, taking in all of Y/n's beauty. "So I've heard. I'm John B, this is Pope." He gestured to Pope who gave a small wave. "And that's JJ. Don't mind him."

Y/n chuckled seeing JJ's clear distaste of her being there. She took a seat next to Kie, who sat beside Pope now with JJ on the other side of him. John B got behind the wheel once again and took off towards the marsh where they all liked to hang out.

The four out of five got into some small talk while JJ pouted, lighting up a joint to take the edge off.

John B finally found a spot he deemed good enough and him and Pope lowered the anchor. "JJ, don't hog that." Kie reached out her hand with a pointed look, waiting for him to pass it to her.

He cocked his head to the side, looking at her before landing on the other girl with a glare. "Well, wouldn't want goody two shoes to get secondhand high, she might freak out and ruin the night."

Y/n sent a glare right back at him. "I've smoked before."

He gave her an unimpressed, "hmm." But reached over and passed it to Kie before he had both of them hating him for the rest of the night.

"Okay," John B clapped his hand, plopping down to sit close to Y/n. "What'd you girls bring?"

Y/n grabbed the cooler, opening the lid to show all the beer they packed. She took a couple out, handing one to John B and the other she extended out to JJ. Like a peace offering.

He stared at it, leaning forward with a hand outstretched. A smile started to form on her face, that is until he quickly reached into the cooler and got a different bottle for himself and left the one she held ignored. She moved her jaw to the side, trying to boil down the irritation he kept filling her with.

She sighed and leaned back into her seat next to John B, and twisted the cap open before taking a swig.

"Ignore him," John B whispered to her in her ear causing Y/n to smile. "He just needs some warming up to."

JJ swallowed the beer and thought it must've been the bitter alcohol that caused the sick feeling in his stomach as he saw you and John B practically all cuddled up together. So you think you can just come here and steal all his friends, no way was he letting that happen.

And unfortunately for him, you came around practically everyday that they all got together and became close to everyone but him. Unfortunately for you, his comments and attitude seemed to only worsen the longer you stuck around.

It's nearing towards the end of summer, and the pouges have brought you on so many different crazy adventures you've never experienced before. Like sneaking into private property, stealing alcohol, and just finally being free. It wasn't like your old, fake kook friends who only cared about where they were seen, what they were wearing and how much money they could spend. And that just wasn't you, and that's why once you met Kiara it was like having a first actual friend.

The two of you girls got closer, now that she wasn't having to separate her time with the pouges and you. She was the only one you confided in your attraction and crush on JJ.

"Do you think JJ hates me?" Y/n asked, brushing her hair and looking into her vanity mirror. Kie sat up from your bed, looking at the girl through the mirror.

"No. I just think it takes a long time to get through the walls he puts up. There's only three people JJ cares about, so just give it some time and he'll be your best friend."

Y/n only hummed, not impressed by the girl's answer. She kept looking at her hair in the mirror, and didn't see Kiara's interest peak and scoot closer.

"Why?" She asked Y/n, who only shrugged at the question. "Do you like JJ?"

"What?!" She snapped her head around to look at Kie, dropping her hairbrush on the ground. Kie smacked a hand over her mouth, trying to not let the gasp escape her mouth.

"No way! You so like him."

"No, nu-uh. I don't like JJ." She waved Kie off and turned back towards the mirror. She looked at her reflection with a frown, picking out any flaw she could in her mind. "I mean.. how could I like someone who doesn't even want me around?"

"Oh, girl.." Kie stood up and wrapped her arms around the girl who's sadness was coming off her in waves. "Trust me, he's lucky to even be near you."

You and Pope got along too, since you both were always focused in school and enjoyed reading. John B was your new best friend, you never had a bad time with him and he always made you feel welcomed.

You'd even have them come to some of your 'kook activities,' as JJ would say. But all it really was is that they got to hang out in your gigantic pool and hot tub when your parents weren't around, got to go to the country club without being immediately kicked out, and being gifted gifts.

That in it's entirety irked JJ, he didn't need your handouts and you weren't going to buy his friendship like you did the others.

But everyone else knew that you weren't doing that, just that you'd show your appreciation in small gifts like a book you and Pope had been talking about, or groceries for John B or even a matching bracelet with Kie.

Y/n parked beside the twinkie and began to grab the bags of groceries she had in her car from her trip to the store. She held 3 bags in one hand and a case of beer in the other. Y/n knocked on the from door, since she had no ways of opening it herself.

JJ ignored the knock and continued smoking on the couch. John B smacked the side of his head as he walked towards the front door. He opened it with a wide smile, "Y/n, hey!"

She giggled as he gave her big hug and took the three bags she was holding. "Hey, John B. I picked up some groceries on my way here since we've been eating everything here."

The two walked towards the kitchen to set everything down. JJ watched with a frown as John B threw an arm around her shoulder and gave a kiss to the side of her head. "Thank you, Y/n. I really appreciate it."

"Pope!" JJ heard your voice and the fast footsteps as you ran up to the pair of them who were in Pope's boat. They were making grocery runs out on figure 8. "Here, I forgot to give you this last night."

"Oh my god, thank you! Where'd you even find this, it wasn't even in Charleston." Pope wrapped his arms around the middle of her back and gave tight squeeze.

She laughed, "I'm not giving up my tricks."

"What were you guys doing last night?" JJ asked, crossing his arms as he watched Y/n's face change from happy to slightly worried.

"Oh, well I had Pope, John B and Kie come over last night. I figured you wouldn't want to come, plus they said you had a family thing - "

"Yeah." JJ huffed, feeling the bruises on his ribs. He went home and to just his luck his dad was awake and angry like usual. "Well, we have a job to do, so."

"Right." Y/n nodded and slowly backed away from their boat. "I'll see you guys later, then."

"Where'd you get that bracelet, Kie?" JJ asked as they were cleaning up around the chateau. This obviously wasn't anything JJ wanted to do, but it had been getting bad and Kie already scolded all of the guys for not doing anything for so long. John B and Pope were cleaning in other areas of the house, while they tackled the living room.

Kie smiled, "Y/n got me it. She has a matching blue one." She twisted it gently around her wrist, the turtle charm dangling and the green yarn designs effortlessly beautiful.

"Oh.. it's nice." He murmured, tossing an old red solo cup in the bag of trash they were filling up.

"I think she got you something too." Kie mentioned, trying to pry into how JJ was feeling. She knew you had a crush on him, but she knew how well JJ was at hiding how he felt. And that usually came out with him either making jokes or being rude.

"Really?" He asked without a beat. Kie's lips curved upwards, gotcha. On the counter he saw a photo of the five you that you took on your polaroid a few weeks ago, you all wore big smiles after a day on the boat. You and Kie posed next to each other, the three guys making goofy peace signs or sticking their tongues out behind them.

"Yeah, I think she mentioned some type of pocket knife or tool you needed for your bike."

He softly smiled, his eyes not leaving the picture just yet. He remembered telling everyone about how his bike broke down and that he lost his favorite pocket knife after a run in with some kooks in the twinkie about a week before that polaroid was taken. "I didn't think she'd remember that."

JJ snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the four of you bust out laughing. How could they be so okay with you coming in and ruining the dynamic of the group? He also hated how well you got along with just about anyone, he wanted to make sure that he'd be the exception if no one else was going to.

"What's so funny?" He grumbled, kicking an empty beer can before resting against the outside of the chateau where everyone was lounging at.

Their laughter quieted down and Y/n just kept her gaze on her feet once JJ entered their conversation. John B nudged her with his shoulder, still laughing as he looked at her shyness. "Little miss Y/L/N here took Topper down earlier on the beach."

His eyebrows raised, "What are you talking about?"

Pope excitedly began to tell the story, "Okay, so I headed over to figure 8 to pick Y/n up, right? And so when we were heading back to the HMS when Topper started yelling at me for being over there. A-and then he started coming at Y/n saying how she's a turned pouge and then - "

"Well, that's dumb." JJ started to laugh, thinking that's the reason why they'd be laughing. "Y/n's not a pouge."

Silence.

Y/n frowned, subconsciously slumping more in her seat from the awkwardness. "Dude," Pope sighed.

Kie looked at him pissed off, "What's your issue, JJ?" John B shook his head as he looked off into his backyard adding, "Don't you think she's earned that after what she's gone through and done with us?"

"No." JJ bluntly said not even sparing at the girl who sat in the chair. "She's a kook, she'll always be a kook."

Y/n rolled her eyes, looking down at her phone. It showed a few text messages from her parents that were sent to her hours ago, her mom saying, 'please come home soon,' and her dad's saying 'you know what we talked about. home now, last chance.'

"You know what, since I'm such a kook why don't I just leave?" She hopped out of her chair and faced JJ with a sour face. He didn't show his surprise of her stepping up to him, and just smiled.

"Great, I'll show you the door."

She scoffed, "God, JJ. You've made it so hard to be your friend, I give up you win. You won't have to deal with me crashing your fun anymore," she turned to the other three who wore worried expressions. "I'm sorry guys, but I have to go home. I'll call you." She turned away, giving JJ one more look before rushing off to hear car to head home in order to spare herself another fight with her father for being friends with pouges.

The last time she got into a fight with her parents, JJ was with her. It was weird for JJ to be there, because if anyone was going to represent who her friends were, Y/n would much rather have had Kie and Pope or John B be there. But JJ was the only one available, and didn't say no.

"You said I'd listen to you, and then you'd listen to me." Y/n reminded her dad as the two teenagers stepped inside and sat in the living room. She saw his pissed off face when she didn't come alone.

JJ gave him a head nod. This already wasn't going well. Y/n's dad had wanted to have a sit down about what she was doing wither her life, but they all knew it was going to be him telling her she couldn't hang around pouges so she brought back up to change his mind.

They'd been going back in forth until her dad had enough. "Listen, I think you've been led stray away, Y/n. And you JJ," He looked towards JJ, remember months ago when he first saw Y/n and JJ.

"Y/D/N.." Your mom warned, never really speaking until now which caused Y/n to roll her eyes. Her mom always let her dad take the reigns on anything and never thought for herself.

"No, no, no. Lets get this all out in the open." He walked towards JJ who had made his way into the open kitchen whereas the girls of the house still sat in the living room. "You need to understand that I do get it."

JJ faked a laugh, "Sure you do."

"You hear me? I do. I like you JJ, and I bet you're fucking fun to hang out with and go down to the break with because I was once just like you, bro. I didn't think that anything mattered, and that I could make any bullshit story and these stupid kooks would believe it. But then I learned about hard work, about what really mattered."

JJ kept his sights on the glossy, fancy marble table as her dad talked down to him.

"All I care about - all I care about.. is my daughter. That's it. And all I know, is that she was a lot better off before she met you and your friends."

"Dad, I was never better off." Y/n cried, getting up from the couch and walking over to the two of them.

"Yes you were." He interrupted his daughter. Y/n's mom walked over, scared to see what else would happen.

"I was never better off!" Y/n repeated with a stern voice. "I was miserable."

"Miserable? Look at your life now." He laughed at her. "No, no. NO!" He snapped at his wife who was trying to get him to stop. "These pouges, have ruined my daughters life." He spat out the word pouge as he looked at JJ like he was dirt.

JJ rolled his shoulders back, shifting his gaze to see Y/n's distraught form, and decided to take the heat. "Didn't mean any disrespect, Mr. Y/L/N. Y'all have a good day."

JJ walked backwards away from Y/n's dad, and made his way to his bike outside.

"What are you doing?" Y/n pleaded her father to stop, she knew JJ barely liked her as is and after this she knew he never would.

"I'm protecting my daughter! Everybody says it, he's just life his father. He's a liar and a thief."

"No, he's not!" Y/n yelled throwing her hands up in frustration. JJ, not yet outside, stopped to listen to what else the kooks had to say about him. "He's nothing like his dad. You don't know him, they're nothing alike."

JJ heard your footsteps come closer and quickly stepped out of the front door before you did. "Where are you going?" Your father yelled after you.

"I listened to you, y'all were supposed to listen to me.. it's not fair." Y/n kept walking away, leaving her parents yelling at her while she ran after JJ.

"JJ, I'm sorry." She breathed out, watching him only stare in front of him and not look at her. "I-I didn't know he was going to react like that. You didn't deserve that."

JJ already started his bike but still waited for Y/n. "It's whatever. I already know what they think of me." He waited until Y/n hopped on behind him, and wrapped her arms around him.

He looked behind her with a soft gaze, "You ready?"

Y/n's cheeks reddened by how close they were, and nodded with a shy smile. "Yeah."

"JJ!" "Dude, go talk to her!" "You're an idiot."

JJ waved them off and just took a seat in the chair you were just in. His mind was heavy with memories and thoughts swirling around. "What? You're telling me she understands what it's like to be a pouge? As if she has had to deal with the same things as us in her life?!"

John B picked up a random wadded up shirt he found near him and threw it at JJ's face. "Dude, do you know much shit she's had to deal with her parents over this summer because of us?"

"Yeah, her parents and mine were talking about wilderness camps. It took mine years in order to get there, but it took her's only a couple of months." Kie glared at the sun, hating how much their parents despised their friends.

JJ hesitated to speak, he did know how you were being affected by spending all her time on the cut with them. But still, a disappointed parent in exchange for being rich? He knew her parents were looking down on them anyways, and whose to say that Y/n wouldn't do the same eventually?

"And why do you hate Y/n so much anyways? She's just like Kie, she was a kook before too." Pope pointed out causing JJ's leg to start bouncing.

"It's not like that, god." He jumped from the chair and faced all of them. "Y'all don't see it like I do, okay? I see how she really is - "

"What, a good person? She's nothing like a kook, JJ and deep down you know that. She's always been there when any of us need anything, and stood up for us with Rafe and all of them so many times." Kie defended you, she's watched this go on for too long and she couldn't risk your guys' friendship over it.

JJ just shook his head, unable to wrap his head around what she was getting at. "Nah, you heard it for yourself she's going back to figure 8 while we stay here, because we have each other! She's not apart of that."

The three pouges looked at each other, it seemed more like he was trying to convince himself that he was right and to ignore anything they might've said. So they dropped it, I mean you did say that you'd call them later.

---

Y/n parked her car in the drive way with a huff. She's so exhausted over JJ. Throughout the four months she'd been hanging out with the pouges, she hoped that he'd give her a chance and they'd become at least cordial with each other. But she couldn't keep dealing with him, no matter how much she did like him or being friends with the pouges.

She wasn't necessarily thinking about stop being friends with everyone, but.. JJ was their friend first, and she wasn't going to make them choose between them that wouldn't be fair.

She stepped out of her car, and shut the door behind her. She noticed another van park on the other side of the street with the logo, 'Kitty Hawk' and a rainbow. A man stepped out of the car, keeping his trained eye on her.

"Hey, Y/n." She started walking towards the house and the strange man kept following her. "Hey, come back. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you."

"Uh, no I'm okay." She said back to him. She hurried up the stairs to get to the front door, whispering to herself, "What the fuck."

She finally got to the top of the stairs and twisted the doorknob. Only it was locked. Y/n's heart dropped, looking back to see the creepy man still walking towards her. She yanked on the doorknob, pounding on the door. "Mom! Dad!"

The door opened, but it was another strange man wearing a shirt with the same logo from the car.

Y/n gasped taking a step back. "Who are you?"

"Look, this can go one of two ways." The man said, taking a couple steps toward her.

"No, no, no, no." Her heart was racing. She never thought her parents would really send her away. She couldn't believe this was happening to her.

"Y/n, I'm sorry." Her mom stepped into view, her dad behind her. "We're sending you away for a while. They say Kitty Hawk is the best."

Y/n took another step and knocked into the first man she saw. He held his arms out so she couldn't run away. "Wait, wai - "

"Okay?" Her mom asked, but it wasn't like Y/n was given a choice. "We just need to try this, okay? We're just trying to help you."

The two men started to grab her arms and lead her to the van. Y/n's breathing was ragged and looked at her parents with crazy wide eyes. She just kept repeating, "no, no, no." Hoping this wasn't actually happening. "Mom, no. Dad!"

She tried yanking her arms away from the men, even trying to hit them to get off her but they were much stronger. "No, I can't do this!"

"We are trying to help you." Her mom tried to reason with her, but even she knew this was insane. "This isn't forever."

"You can't send me to camp wilderness, kookoo's nest!" The men kept dragging her, even down the stairs as her parents followed.

"They're not gonna hurt you. They're good people. They're going to help you out, don't fight it." Her dad warned her, stopping his wife from going further down the stairs.

As the three went down the stairs, Y/n whipped her head around to look at her parents. Tears started streaming down her face, "But I said - I said I didn't want to go!" She reached out grabbing ahold of the fence in from of their house. The two men tried yanking her off but she wasn't going without a fight. "I don't want to! You can't do this!"

They finally pried her off the fence and continued carrying her out to the back of the van. "No!" She sobbed, as they kept leading her further away from her house. "Dad! Mom!" She screamed watching as they stood at the top of the stairs doing nothing from her being taken away.

The men threw her in the van and immediately shut the door so she couldn't try to escape. There was no door handle from the inside so she began to bang her fists on the window. Still screaming and crying for her mom and dad.

---

That "I'll call you later," never happened. The whole night it was complete radio silent on your end, no matter how many calls or texts they left you. They all just kinda figured you wanted your space.

It wasn't until the next day of not hearing anything that they were all starting to be concerned. Especially since they had all agreed to go surfing in the morning and then fishing and drinking.

It was about 10 in the morning and the four of them were all packed in the twinkie for the day ahead of them, the only thing missing was you.

"Has she said anything?" Pope asked the group, a small frown on his face.

John B and Kie shook their heads. "I wonder why." Kie snapped looking at JJ who had been more quiet than usual since you left.

He's been trapped in his thoughts, and the pouges had a point. He really was hating on you for no reason. Well, not no reason but not one he wanted to admit to anyone. At first, yeah strictly because you were a kook. And that was valid. Until it wasn't and you were actually a genuine person to be around. You were funny, smart, and beautiful. And JJ hated that.

"She's seriously coming again?"

"Yes, JJ. We all like her so she's invited."

"Does she even know how to surf? Or are you gonna teach her as an excuse to get near her?" JJ grimaced at the thought, if John B and Y/n were to get together then surely Pope will find the balls to ask out Kie and he'd be left out for sure.

"Yes, that's exactly my plan." John B pushed JJ out the doorway and headed out to the twinkie, he was only humoring him. Every other time JJ has hinted at John B liking Y/n he's denied it, but that hasn't changed anything so he might as well have fun with it.

Once the guys made it to the beach they met Pope, Kie and Y/n already there. Y/n laid on a towel soaking in the sun while Kie and Pope sat together talking and laughing.

"You guys ready?" John B called out, both him and JJ holding their boards. The other three jumped to their feet with excited "yeahs". "Oh and Y/n?" He called out with a sly grin, waiting till she got her attention to slap JJ on the back. "JJ here volunteered to help you out today, how nice is that?"

"Really?" Y/n's eyes widen in hopes he finally wanted to spend time with her. While JJ's mouth was dropped open as he looked at John B with killer eyes.

John B only smiled smug and gestured to answer Y/n. He knew JJ wasn't going to be that much of a dick to just say no now. JJ cleared his throat, scrunching his face as he scratched the back of his head. "Uh - uh yeah. I did tell John B that, didn't I?" He grumbled the last part ignoring Kie and Popes weird gazes at how he was acting.

They all headed out to the ocean with their boards, JJ and Y/n hanging back so he can try to teach her some basics. They paddled out a bit and off away from where the other three pouges were riding waves. Y/n sat straddling her board, as JJ sat on his next to her. "Okay so, you probably won't want to take on big waves right now. But if you're getting lessons from me, you'll be one of the best surfers out here in no time."

Y/n let out a belly laugh causing JJ to have a smile of his own. "Don't get too cocky now."

"Oh trust me, pretty girl. I got a reason to be cocky."

Y/n's breath got caught in her throat after hearing what JJ just called her, but he didn't seem to register what he even called her. She swallowed and wiped the whispy hair that escaped her braid out of her face. "I'm sure you do." She tried to tease him back, and it got a chuckle out of him before he stopped himself. What are you doing, he thought to himself, you're supposed to hate her. Even if she really is pretty.

He paddled a little closer and began with the teaching lesson. "Alright so all you need to do…"

"Give me the keys."

All of the pouges looked at JJ with shock. But JJ didn't falter just had his hand gesturing to John B for the keys. "JJ we should wait for- "

"Look, give me the keys right now. Her parents already hate me, and I kind of owe her."

John B's lips formed an 'O' and the other two looked at each other with small smiles. "Stop making that face." JJ shook his head, not even wanting to see the 'I knew it' looks Kie and Pope had on.

"Oh, you owe her, huh?" John B snickered, but dropped the car keys in JJ's awaiting hand.

JJ only jumped in the front seat and waisted no time in speeding to your house leaving the other three pouges at the chateau.

"I knew it!" Kie squealed, the other two boys nodding along. "That idiot so liked her all along."

JJ sped in the twinkie as fast as it could go to your house. On arrival he already noticed that your car was parked in the driveway so you had to be home. Just ignoring him for being the asshole he is. He also noticed your parents were sitting on the steps, like they were expecting someone.

He hopped out of the van and slammed the door behind him. He turned around to face your parents, your dad looking at him like he hated him. Granted, he did. "Howdy, y'all."

"JJ," Your father called out. "Don't even step on my property."

"Yeah, right." JJ sighed, looking around before back at them. "Well, you know why I'm here. To see Y/n, and well we were supposed to hear from her but we haven't yet. So I - "

"JJ, she's not here." Your mom said.

He looked over at your car still in the driveway. "Like I'm supposed to believe that. Okay, um, well then where is she?"

"Let's just say you're not going to see her for a long time, alright?"

JJ's heart dropped. No, they couldn't have.

"We sent her someplace where she can rebuild what you are your friends are ruining."

JJ's nostrils flared and his lips formed into a thin line. "You sent her to that wilderness camp?"

Y/n's dad nodded, with a proud look on his face. "Yes."

He let out a deep breath, his hands becoming a fist as he turned towards the van. "Y'know.." he snickered, shaking his head while he kicked at the ground. "Y'all are some real kooks."

Y/n's dad shot up from his seat, starting to run down the stairs. He wanted to pummel JJ for causing the tear in his relationship with his daughter. Y/n's mom stopped him from actually reaching the teenage boy though. "No, Y/M/N. These pouges are destroying my daughter's life!"

JJ yanked the driver door open, "Nah.. You gooned her. You gooned your own daughter."

"You gave us no choice, JJ! And I don't want to see you around my family again."

JJ stuck his head out the window already putting the car in reverse. "Don't worry, Y/D/N. You won't."

He floored it out of the driveway, creating tire marks in his wake. He then put the car in drive and headed towards Kitty Hawk to save you.

Your 24 hours at Kitty Hawk were horrible. When you arrived all the girls looked at you like you were the weird outcast, but you couldn't even care. All you could think about was getting the hell out of here.

They took your phone and you doubted anyone knew where you were, especially how you left the pouges. You just hoped that they'd figure out that this wasn't your choice and figure out some scheme to help break you out. If they still wanted to be your friend that is.

It was dark when JJ finally reached the cabin they placed you in. He went through the front office and hiding from security to get to you, but he finally did it.

He grabbed a credit card from his wallet to unlock the door, heavy breathing as the bandana he tied around his face covered his mouth and nose. He quietly opened the door, slipped in and closed it behind him.

There were about 20 bunk beds lined up on both sides on the cabin, so he crouched down and started trying to look for her. "Y/n," he whisper shouted trying to not wake up any other girls other than you. "Y/n.. Y/n."

A girl sat up and turned on her light, gasping when she saw a random man with a bandanna in their cabin. "What are you doing in here?"

His eyes were wide and instinctively raised his hands in surrender. "Hi, uh.. evening miss. Sorry, sorry uh." He slowly stood up as practically all the other girls woke up and focused their attention on him. "Shit."

He looked all around but still didn't see you, it was still dark in some areas of the cabin. "I know this looks bad - I come in peace. I-I'm just looking for someone.. I'm looking for - "

"Me?" Y/n was now sat on the edge of her bunk as she looked at JJ.

He slowly turned to where he heard your voice and froze when he saw you. You weren't hurt, thank god. "Y/n.."

She fought the tears that started to form in her eyes, and climbed down the bunk. She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck and he tightly held her close to him. They both were breathing heavy in relief. He finally saved her, and she was finally saved.

She pulled away for a moment and looked from his left to right eye frantically. "But how did - how?"

He gave her a small laugh, "I know.. it's a long story. No time to explain though." He paused hearing her angelic laugh and allowing himself not to force himself to ignore it. "There's one thing though.. Y/n I just.. I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

Y/n's eyes softened and nodded her head. She knew how JJ is with his emotions, and this was the biggest gesture he's ever made to show that he cares about her as a friend. But with what she's experience in the last two days; her fight with the pouges and her parents shipping her away.. She couldn't afford not to be honest with her feelings, it would kill her more.

"I like you." She said softly, emotion thick in her throat. She had a sad, but genuine smile on her lips.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, not blinking as he registered what she told him. His heart started beating fast, and the urge to run away scratching at him faster.

"I like you too."

They both let out a breath looking at each other like they couldn't believe what the other was telling them. They both made themselves believe that there was no way the other could've liked them back for so long it was shocking to see that they were wrong.

Y/n took a step forward, his hand coming up to cradle her face. The two both looking at each other's eyes to make sure they really wanted to do this. Y/n's eyes fluttered close and JJ leaned in all the way to finally be able to kiss her.

The two of them held each other so gently but firm, to show all the tender and protection they could offer the other.

All the girls in the cabin started cheering loudly. After a second the couple parted with smiles, until they realized they were about to get caught if all the girls kept being loud. Without a word Y/n turned back to grab her bag of clothes while JJ shushed everyone in the cabin.

The two then ran for the cabin door, and headed to the forest where JJ had stashed the twinkie so he wouldn't get caught. They laughed once they successfully made it out of the Kitty Hawk property.

They stopped and caught their breath for a second, and Y/n took this time to turn and admire the boy. "Thank you."

He looked at her with a genuine smile and offered a shrug, reaching out to touch her fingers. "I'll always help my pouge when she's in distress."

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #outer banks #kiara carrera #john b routledge #angst with a happy ending #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank angst #pope heyward #outer banks imagine #the pouges #outer banks fic

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honeyhotteok · 9 months

Note

Hi! Can you pls write about when Jake was in jail with a reader who went to visit him all the time and was always by his side through those tough days?

took a minute for the ideas to marinate but i actually had an easier-ish time writing this even though i usually don't write stuff this long🤯 thank you for the sweet idea, anon, and for waiting a bit! <3

summary: jake's favorite person decides to wait for him.

"Inmate 0706. You have a visitor."

Jake walks into the tiny visitation room and plops himself down onto the chair, thinking to himself that it's probably Jerry again. His breath hitches when he sees that it's you entering and sitting down in front of him before the glass partition.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be in a place like this," he says with a half-hearted smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes.

You glare at him before springing up from your chair, brimming with fury. "Is that all you have to say to me? How could you hide a whole illegal gambling business from me?"

You had been holding down the fort at one of the shops on Big Deal street as usual, unsuspecting while exchanging quick goodbye kisses with Jake before he would leave the street to take care of some unknown business the past few months. To think he had been hiding something this wrong and to this degree from you, when you thought he believed the two of you were equals.

He closes his eyes, "it was for your own good-"

"Don't. Save it with the whole protecting me bullshit."

He opens his mouth to defend himself, but stops. Maybe you're right. Maybe he should just sit here and instead savor what could be the last time you argue with him. He waits for the other shoe to drop. This is it, he thinks. Inevitable, even. He did choose this life after all.

You sit back down after having gotten that bout of rage out of your system. "I just...wish you would let me in sometimes," you admit quietly.

Jake finally looks up at you, caught off guard by the shift in your tone and words. "Y/N..."

"Ugh, whatever. I'm leaving." You grab your jacket and stand. You pause at the door without turning your head. "See you next week," you mutter.

Before he can utter another word, he watches the door swing shut behind you.

"Visitor for Inmate 0706."

Jake begins making his way to the visitation room.

Jason and Brad had exchanged glances with each other throughout the week as Jake looked even more lost in thought than usual in the yard, the cafeteria, his cell - thinking about you. He heard you wrong last time, right? Were you actually coming back to visit him not just once but a second time? Yeah, no, it's gotta be Jerry this time.

To his disbelief, you're already sitting there behind the glass partition with your arms crossed.

You open this visit with another glare, albeit a less icy one. Despite still being here, you want to keep holding onto your rightful grudge and hurt so badly. But your eyes finally take in his short hair, the new scar on his mouth, the way the weight he's been carrying manifests in his eyes and body. And you find yourself unable to prevent the soft concern filling your eyes.

You let out a deep sigh.

"How's the food in there?" you finally break the silence.

Jake can't help but crack a smile at your concerned, trivial inquiry.

"It's...edible." The both of you laugh.

...

"Wait, what the hell is prison spicy chicken?"

After last being together in the outside world only a few weeks ago, the two of you begin to slip back into your usual rapport.

While the two of you still manage to chat it up and laugh together, there are still visits where you find yourself waiting to leave the room before you finally let your tears fall. Days where the ache of only getting weekly glimpses of him behind a layer of glass gets to you, peeks at the world of turmoil swirling in and around him that you find yourself helpless to truly solve.

The seasons pass, and it's getting these weekly looks of you that mark the passage of time for Jake. He looks forward to seeing what new change he can spot every visit - the haircut you usually get around the summertime, whether you had time to change out of your part-time job uniform before coming to visit.

And the weekly visits go like this. Although being separated from you does give him an extra reason to want to kill Gun - it's during these brief moments in time with you that he's reminded maybe there can be more to his life than revenge. The incessant physical training, the brutal fights every day in the prison all blur together in a black and white cut, but seeing you brings a little bit of color back into his life.

You stand outside of the detention center gates with the other heads of Big Deal, all of you anxiously trying to peer through the doors in the distance for any sign of Jake. He finally walks through the gates with Jason and Brad following behind. "Welcome back, Boss," mingled with big smiles and back pats amongst you. Jake finally stops in front of you, almost in a daze. He's seen your face every weekend for the past 11 months, but something about seeing your entire person standing before him feels like a pair of hands shaking him by the shoulders.

"Welcome back, you big idiot." You give him a light punch in the arm.

He pulls you into a warm embrace while cradling the back of your head, "I missed you, too."

"Hey Boss, the rest of Big Deal are looking forward to-" Lineman's cheerful words immediately get cut off by consecutive smacks from Jason, Brad, and Luah alike.

"Read the room," Luah shout-whispers at Lineman while giving him a second smack in the head for good measure.

"We'll see you later at HQ, Boss. Take your time." Jason waves in Jake's direction before scampering down the road with Jerry and the rest of the crew. Jake chuckles and waves back.

You smile and grab Jake's hand, "let's go get you a proper meal."

You and Jake sit outside your go-to pojangmacha waiting for your orders. His head is swimming with thoughts of how he could possibly begin to thank you for waiting for him this whole time when he least deserved it, how he can articulate this gratitude and affection that's bigger than anything he can offer you in this moment.

Fresh hot plates of vegetable tempura, fish cake, and kimbap emerge before you. He indulges in the first delicious fried food he's had in months with you. The two of you feed each other skewers of tteokbokki while easing back into the groove of your usual banter sprinkled with laughs in between.

"Oh, and this is for you."

You pull out a paper box from the bakery with a slice of red velvet cake enclosed inside.

"Ta-da! It's not much, but I hope this is a slight upgrade to the cigarette-choco pie birthday cake you had in there," you grin. You scoop out a chunk of cake with the fork and hold it in front of his mouth.

"Hey, I told you you didn't need to get me anything." He's already been madly in love with everything about you, but something about this little gesture feels like it's about to tip something over in his chest.

"Hush and take a bite already!"

Jake complies with a smile. He then moves to close the distance between you two with his hand cupping your cheek, his eyes still fixed on you. He gazes at your face with an overflowing amount of affection and presses his forehead to yours, as if to pause and wonder if he still deserves to lock his lips with yours after all this time.

As if to reply with a resounding 'yes,' you pull his face to yours and kiss him deeply, tasting the sugary sweet mild cocoa flavor still lingering on his lips.

#i reread the juvie arcs for this lol ok i could not figure out the logistics of jason and brad's juvie sentences for the life of me #so i assumed they got released at the same time as jake and that jake got out on early release so a little less than a year #but if my details on that are wrong feel free to lmk and i will happily edit it lol #anyway i think this ended up being the longest thing ive posted on here so far and ofc it's for jake😮‍💨 this man🫠#jake kim #jake kim x reader #lookism x reader #lookism

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camryn-haitani · 8 months

Text

c'mon bugaboo

cat noir x reader

'sentibubbler': season 4, episode 10

TW: angst and comfort, cursing, spoilers for that episode.

this is a little scenario I had in my head about him, so I decided to put it here. I don't know if this is really angst but I'm just gonna put it just in case. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, here's my apology<3

- - - - - -

"b-but I wanna help. why can't I help?" cat noir asks.

"well, we really don't need your cataclysm so" rena says as she makes a mirage of ladybug. she runs off, rena following the fake ladybug.

"well.... there's nothing I can do now. I feel useless now ladybugs the guardian of the miracle box." cat sighs.

cat felt useless like he said. since ladybug can temporarily give people miraculous's, there was almost no need for him anymore. cat goes off with no destination in mind. he just jumps around from roof to roof. rena said their plan didn't require cat noir, so he walks around for hours. he sees the miraculous ladybug fix everything and sighs. by the time he's tired of running, he jumps down onto a roof and sits down, not knowing he's waken up someone.

y/n pov

"what the fuck, who or what is on my roof?" I get up from my bed to see what the noise came from.

I see that familiar black cat costume with the matching ears coming from that blond head.

"cat?" I walk up behind him and sit down.

"o-oh I'm sorry. I landed too hard and probably woke you up. I'll leave." he stands up to leave. "no no no, I was already awake. I've just gotta ask, what are you doing here? shouldn't you be with ladybug?" I sit down next to him.

he sighs, debating on whether to tell you or not. "well..." he goes on.

"ladybug hasn't really been needing me the last few missions. she's been asking other people for help. and...." he takes a breath, holding in tears, "it makes me feel like she doesn't need me anymore. like she's tossed me to the curb. like today, nino got akumatized into the sentibubbler by shadow moth. I was all ready to come and help, but rena said they don't need me..." I see a single tear fall from his eyes.

"ladybug has missed a lot of our nightly patrols. I miss it. I miss saving akumatized villains, I miss our patrols around Paris, I miss...." he takes a breath, "I miss her."

I look at him and hold his hand. I see him look at my hand on his.

"I'm kinda in the same situation, cat. but that's for another day. I don't wanna put this on you. do you wanna come in? it's kinda cold out here." I ask.

"sure... it is a bit chilly" he stands up and follows me.

we walk through my back door into my room. my room is quite big with the couch so it won't be too cramped with both of us in here(I know this is a bit much but just work with me please).

"hey cat." I look at him. "what's up?" he tries to say without breaking his voice. I hold out my arms to invite him in a hug. he looks at me with sad eyes, tumbles into my arms and breaks down crying.

he cries for a good while and when he calms down he asks, "am I just not enough?" he whispers. "oh cat, of course you're enough. I can't tell you why she gives other people miraculous's. but I do know that you're a great hero to Paris."

"I am?" he looks up at me. "yes cat, you're the best hero i have ever seen." I reassure him.

"thank you, truly. I'm sorry I was so loud on your roof." he apologizes. "no no it's ok, I'm glad you were because I wouldn't have met you" he smiles at my words. I hear faint beeps as cat looks down at his ring. "shit, I gotta go. it was nice meeting you......?" he pauses, not knowing my name. "it's y/n. is there a name I can call you instead of cat?" he laughs a bit at my question, "call me whatever you come up with, i don't mind." he answers.

"it was nice meeting you, kitty," I take his hand before he leaves, "if you ever feel like this again or need to talk, I'm always free. come by anytime." I smile.

"of course, cutie. I wouldn't want to miss any opportunity to see you again." he kisses the back of my hand.

"I'm see you soon, kitty." I kiss his cheek. he smiled at my kiss and went out the window.

'i hope I see him again. he's pretty cute.' I say to myself. I go back to my bed and drift off into sleep, thinking about a certain cat in mind.

- - - - - -

I will hopefully be doing a part 2 if y'all are interested<3

#cat noir #chat noir #cat noir x reader #chat noir x reader #x reader #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous x reader

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hihihi! request for zombie steve au! maybe someone at the college bullies reader into thinking she’s not good enough for steve?

just gotta say that I LOVE LOVE LOVE all your works & esp this au 😩 it just does something to me

hi thank you so much for your request! I didn't make it so severe as bullying I don't think, but tw for bullying just to be safe, and suggestive! tw mentioned weight loss <3 zombie!au steve 9k words

The dinner line is long and winding. You and Steve stand elbow to elbow, the smell of refried beans and homemade tortillas near hypnotising.

"I know the tortillas are gonna taste a little weird, I just don't care," you say, the hand you’ve curled around your boyfriend's forearm squeezing enthusiastically.

"Imagine if they had cheese," he taunts.

"Don't be evil, Steve."

His laugh dissappears into the swelling sounds of a hundred conversations. It feels like high school, bodies packed into the same room like a bingo wheel, people bouncing off of one another frenetically as the night turns forward. There's a lot of happy energy in here tonight. You're contributing at least half. Not even Steve's unfortunate truths can get you down. Yeah, you miss cheese a lot, but after a full day in the pantry shift and close quarters to such gorgeous smells, you're ravenous.

Your stomach gives a rumbling groan, and Steve's pressed so close to you that he can feel it. He wraps his arm around your shoulder to kiss the top of your head.

His easy affection sates you for a while. You turn to watch the people already sitting with their meals, jealous but not too much, and find your happiness isn't grudging. You're happy to be here. You won't take this stroke of luck for granted, not again.

You and Steve get your plates, refried beans, roasted greens seasoned with a vibrant red that smells spicy and decadent. There's definitely olive oil mixed in. You thrum with pleasure but wait patiently for steve to collect his own helpings, your cutlery, and finally, your drinks.

Robin sees you coming and waves you down unnecessarily. She's sitting with a dark-haired girl called Vanessa, and another girl you're unsure of. Vanessa had been part of your rescue squad, the team of people who'd fought to bring you back to The College. You'd show her some gratitude if she deigned to look at you.

No matter how snooty you find her, Robin likes her. You try to like her too.

"Hey," you say, putting your place setting down in front of Robin to encourage Steve to her side.

He might downplay it but you know how much he loves her, and how much he'd missed her when they were separated. She's an extremely important part of his life. You wish he'd spend more time with her outside of scavenging and supply runs, but Steve is stuck to you like glue. It's awful and amazing.

"Hi, killer," Robin says.

You scrunch up your nose. "We're still using that?"

"You were impressive!" she emphasises.

Steve puts his drink down before his plate. She's quick to grab it, taking a generous swig as he grumbles and grouches.

"Do you mind?" he asks.

"I don't. Tell your girlfriend you think she was impressive!"

"She knows exactly how I feel about her."

You smile at him. You know more than enough. He's a sweetheart through and through, and though the incident Robin's referencing hadn't been one he loved, he agrees; you'd managed to cut down six zombies all by yourself when they'd split off from a herd that managed to infiltrate community defences, and Steve had thought you were a rockstar. He'd grabbed you, covered in blood and sweat, and asked you why you couldn't just stay inside, and then he'd hugged you for too long, and said later, "My girl's a fucking weapon." Like a nerd.

It's not complicated. Steve had been in danger. You'd wanted to save him, and you'd tried. Turns out he'd be the one to save you… for the hundredth time. But your efforts impressed him.

Impressed everyone, according to Robin.

"Hey, Vanessa," you say warmly.

Vanessa gives you a strange smile in return. Despite mutual friends, Vanessa hasn't warmed to you. She'd been one of the only people who'd volunteered for your rescue squad but you're starting to think that hadn't been because she liked you, exactly. She just couldn't really say no.

"Hey," she says. "How are you?"

Civil you can do easily. You and Steve had been civil for weeks.

"I'm good! Yeah, we heard there were gonna be real tortillas tonight and thought we'd get here early, but everybody had the same idea, I guess."

She laughs politely. "We did."

You wouldn't villainise Vanessa for disliking you. You barely like yourself. And, in your opinion, you'd gotten pretty damn lucky that Steve likes you as much as he does, though a small voice whispers that it'd been a grudging sort of love, like a flower squeezing its way through two panels of sidewalk. A weed that isn't supposed to be there. You worry often and in droves that Steve will come to his senses. He's gonna wake up one day, look at your sleeping face, and realise it isn't enough.

When you'd first joined The College community, you'd thought for sure that was it. Steve was gonna trample your heart once and for all. He never did, of course. The opposite — he'd doubled down. Told you he loved you for the first time, and a second time, too.

And now, miles trekked to get you back, his calf a blistering star of heat where it kisses your own beneath the table, your doubts fade away.

Vanessa doesn't have to like you. That's not the way the world works. With Steve at your side, the rejection barely stings.

You rub your shoe gently against his ankle. He looks up at you, a crazy amount of tortilla in his mouth, and he looks so silly you laugh hard and suddenly.

He covers his mouth.

"I thought you were looking somewhere else," he defends.

"Pig," Robin says, still sipping at his cup of water.

You rub his ankle again. A joke waits at the tip of your tongue, You're lucky I love you. It would feel good to say, but it's not your thing. You've never been outwardly romantic.

His cheeks pink a little under the fluorescents.

For Steve, you can be romantic.

"You're lucky I love you," you say.

There's too much emphasis on 'love', not enough on 'lucky', and the joke refuses to land. Your voice is softer than silk. It's all too sweet.

"More than lucky," Steve says, grinning at you.

You try to put your glass of water on his tray. He puts its straight back on your own.

"Robin's gonna go get me another one," he says.

"I need one for myself," she says, unhappy.

"You have two hands."

"Will you get me a refill?" Vanessa asks.

Christopher, another of Steve's fast friends, slams his tray down next to yours happily. Jonathan is right after him, and then the table's filling up with people: Jonathan's younger brother sits beside him, and the younger brother's friends follow. They're all glued together, you swear. You recognise Dustin in the throng, his chestnut brown curls crushed under a blue hat bragging the Claypole Farmer's Market, wherever that is.

"Steve's getting drinks?" Chris asks.

"For me too, please," Jonathan adds. "And Will, if you don't mind."

"I actually do," Steve says.

"And us!" Dustin says, smirking. "Thank you, oh gracious one."

Steve looks at you for a second, slack-jawed. Can you believe this shit? He stands up, grumbling, and forces his hand between Robin's upper arm and chest to drag her with him.

"Come on, Rob, I can't carry them by myself."

"Steve, please, I'm tired," she moans, her words all lifted and croaky.

"How'm I supposed to carry them by myself? Am I a fucking squid?"

"I'll help," you say, happy to do it, anything for him and at any time.

He puts his hand out to you, a universal gesture for Sit the fuck down. "Buckley will be more than capable." His smile softens. "Thank you."

You pout at him very gently in a kissy face to watch him light up. It's cheesy and rom-com, and it works like a charm. By the time he gets Robin on her feet the tips of his ears are completely blushed, a stark red against the mousy browns and blondes of his hair.

"Hey, Y/N," Chris says, mouth full of tortilla. Boys are all the same.

"Hey," Jonathan echoes, and at least his hand is in front of his mouth, "how are you feeling? They let you back in the kitchen yet?"

"They did. Hopper really didn't like that I broke the lock down rules, but at the same time, I think he understands that I'm a grown up."

Lock down rules being, once a door is shut, it stays shut. Do not give a herd the opportunity to worm its way inside.

But you'd made sure the coast was completely clear, and after Maybelle and Pauline, your fellow kitchen staff, had vouched for that, he'd let you off the hook, and back to work. You hadn't realised how punishing not working could be, especially when Steve had stayed on shift, his time split between scrounging outside of the community and fence duty. There's nothing to stop you from spending the day thinking about what-ifs, which is veritable torture.

"You missed the kitchen? Did you make these?" Chris asks.

You turn to your food and tear off some of the warm tortilla, sighing with pleasure. "No, I'm just kitchen pantry, you know? I'm sorta like an accountant. Like Dora in the armoury, or–" You nod at Vanessa with a smile. "Vanessa. You're in charge of the toiletries and stuff, right, with Cooper and Dean, and those guys?"

She clears her throat. "It's more than 'toiletries and stuff,'" she corrects with a stilted laugh. "It's everything that isn't food. Medicine for the medic, the nursery supplies, the batteries. It's important."

"No, of course! I didn't mean to imply anything else. I can't imagine."

You're sure her smile this time is genuine. You and Vanessa can't seem to mesh because she's a little more serious than you are and your easygoing tone rubs her the wrong way, but you think your explanation makes it up.

She opens her mouth to speak when Dustin leans over the table, projecting his voice down the line. "Y/N! Are you coming to cards club tonight?"

"I don't know, babe," you say, startled at his question. "I thought so. If Steve isn't too tired then yeah, absolutely."

"You can come without Steve," Jonathan says.

"I know," you say, softly so you know he's grateful for the reassurance.

"You're the only one who can beat Will at Yahtzee. You have wicked luck," says Mike, their pale, dark-haired friend, who usually rivals Dustin for hostility. You're glad he seems to like you.

"Yahtzee isn't luck based," says Will.

The entire group groans at the ignition of a familiar argument.

"Robin, if you fucking nudge me again I'm gonna make sure this goes all over you," comes Steve's voice.

You turn in your seat to watch their procession of glasses, at least six between them with not a tray in sight. Robin looks confident, Steve terrified. You jump to your seat to rescue him, taking his third glass from the nestling group so he can pick up his pace.

"Thank you," he says, dipping his head down for a kiss.

You're surprised but never not wanting to be kissed by him, your chin lifting on automatic to reciprocate. You chase him when he pulls away, turning one kiss into two, his lips the tiniest bit chapped against yours. It's a comforting pressure.

You ease away. "Are we going to card club tonight?"

"If you want to, of course we are."

"You aren't tired?"

"You're saying I look ugly."

He glares at you, faux-offended.Your laugh is peeling, infectious to your own ears.

"No!" you deny.

"Right." He tries to be deadpan, sighing in defeat when he can't keep up the illusion. "Shit, I almost had it. S'too bad I'm a sucker for you when you smile like that."

—

Later that night, you and Steve are sitting around the very same tables that have been wiped down with a watery lysol, and you have an amazing three game Yahtzee streak going where nobody can beat you.

Steve's ears are ringing with the clattering sound of dice in the shaker, and he's freezing. It's a great night. He shrugged out of his jacket to lay it over your shoulders, and has to periodically readjust it to stop it from falling to the floor, your arms moving enthusiastically with each new shake.

Steve winces as Dustin makes a fatal mistake. He’s used his two sixes to mark a 12 in the sixes column, holding out for a yacht.

"Dude, the chances of getting Yahtzee are like, one in a thousand," Steve says.

"One in thirteen hundred," you correct, already scooping up Dustin's die to take your turn.

"One in seven thousand and seven hundred for each number," Mike says.

"Ew," Steve says, face slumped into his palm, elbow aching where it's pushed into the table. "You fucking nerds infected my girl."

"It's in the rule book," you say, shaking the circular dice container with your hand on top. You throw them out on the table and assess your given numbers with a frown.

You have three threes and two ones. You keep the threes and shake the other two dice again. Yahtzee had felt complicated when Steve first learned how to play, and now it feels maddening. It's definitely luck based, in his humble opinion, and that has nothing to do with his never winning a game, he swears.

"Does the chance of rolling a Yacht get higher if you keep the dice?" he asks, gesturing to your three threes.

"Yeah," you mumble, throwing your second shuffle out onto the table. "Yeah, but it's pretty negligible, handsome. Goes from point one to point two."

"It isn't negligible," Will denies. "It's probability, not luck, and it isn't point one, it's zero point zero eight, and it can be as high as zero point five. That's one in two hundred."

"That math isn't right," Dustin says.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't."

You throw out your last shuffle and everyone leans in to see what you rolled. Your three threes are kept to one side, and your new rolls clatter to a halt in front of Steve.

"Holy shit," he says.

You rolled two threes.

"Yahtzee!" you cheer, pumping your little fist adorably. Little in that it's smaller than his, and not very little in reality. "Alright, who's next?"

"The game isn't over," Dustin says, peeved.

You peer down his scorecard. He could win, theoretically, if he were to score multiple yachts, or if he'd been careful with his aces, ones, etc.

"Nah, it is," Steve says. "Take it like a champ, Henderson."

Dustin refuses to give up, playing until the end. You score a solid 319 to his less impressive 178.

Steve robs your hand before you can agree to a rematch, forcing you to unfurl your tensed fist. He loves doing this — he presses the tips of his thumbs into the sides of one of your fingers and pushes down. It must hurt a teeny tiny bit but you never say a word, only giggle at his touch and lean toward him like you might tell him a secret. He would lament how much time he wasted being an asshole to you if he had the wherewithal. As it is, he's enchanted with you, and he isn't casual about it, pushing all of your anxiety down to your fingertips. He brings them to his mouth and kisses them each in turn.

You pull your hand away. He thinks you're standing up to leave the table, but you're moving closer to him and straightening your back. He can picture the ache between your shoulder blades as it is between his own, the weird raw feeling, a tightness.

"Want a neck massage?" he asks as you place your hand against his cheek.

You brush your thumb over his stubble. "Do you want a neck massage?" you ask, unperturbed by his sudden question. His jacket threatens to slide onto the floor.

"Are you offering?"

"Not in cards club." You look over his shoulder. "We could play poker."

"The buy-in's too expensive."

"What?" You frame his face with your hand. He's not sure you know you're doing it. "We can spare it, isn't that why we brought it?"

Buy-in tonight is a bar of soap. Half the time everybody goes home with what they brought anyways, so you're obviously not worried.

You squeeze his cheek and laugh. "You'd be cute if you were chubby."

He grabs your hand, face warped by an irreplaceable joy, a delight to have you and be with you, a sparkling kind of lightness to know you're safe and happy here. He kisses your cheek, and says, smushed up against your skin, "You're cute."

"Thank you."

He hums. "So. Poker?"

—

You have a small sink in your room with a hot and cold faucet, though no matter which one you choose, the water comes out cold. It chills your face as you scrub. When your face is reasonably wet, you lather the bar of honey soap Steve insists on keeping at the side of the sink between your fingers before dropping it imprecisely into your boyfriend's waiting palm. He laughs under his breath at the clumsy manoeuvre.

You listen to him do the same as you had as you soap your face. You give special attention to your nose, your eyebrows, and your ears. Steve laughs again as you work a small towel behind them.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing." He holds his hand out for the towel, patting down his face with less ardency. He isn't less clean for it. "You have suds under your nose. Tiny moustache."

He reaches for it with the towel, lifting your face with the back of his hand under your chin. His eyes are their forever warm brown, fixed on your top lip with a dedication that makes your baseline fondness for him surge.

"I was pretty bad at poker, huh?" you ask.

"No?" He dries a lingering stretch of dampness painting your cheek before dropping the towel behind the faucets. "You didn't win. Doesn't mean you were bad."

"Vanessa said I should stick to Yahtzee," you tell him. You pause, wanting his input, and worried you're feeling offended by something that isn't inherently offensive.

"Vanessa should stick to lawn darts," he says, chucking you under the chin.

He starts to pull his pants down like it's no big deal. It isn't, not after so many months together, you've seen him do worse in worse states than this, but it feels forbidden anyhow to watch him climb into bed.

"Could you pass me my sweatpants?" he asks, face turned into the pillow, his shoulders deflating.

"You're decompressing without me."

"Am not." He pushes his hand under the pillow, shoulder blade shifting under his shirt noticeably. "Hurry and decompress with me."

You throw his sweatpants at his calves and he does a sort of vertical dance to put them on, one leg then the other, lifting his hips and dropping heavily back into the sheets when he's done. He looks at home. His relaxation catches you off guard, a pleasure to see even if it isn't strictly new. He feels safe here with you.

"She's good at those darts," you say.

"And shit at poker," Steve says agreeably. He lifts his head off of the pillow. "Are you coming in or are you gonna sleep standing up tonight?"

You shimmy out of your stiff jeans and try not to feel the huge weight of his eyes on your skin. It's an impossible task, and you fail immediately.

"Stop looking at me."

"M'not."

You glare at him, find him absolutely looking at you. Your glare fades when you realise how loving his gaze is, how it doesn't waver for a second. He pushes the sheets down on your side of the bed and waves his arm for you to get in.

You pull on your pyjama pants and take off your bra, climbing into bed beside him. He wraps his arm around you quickly, or rather under you, his bicep crushed by your shoulders. Chills prickle against your skin as he cups the flesh just shy of your breast. If Steve wanted to touch you like that, he could. You want him just as much as you don't, content to cuddle with him, content to kiss like teenagers with nowhere to go tomorrow, content to do worse. He spreads his fingers over your torso, pinky nudging the underside. You'd let Steve touch wherever he liked, and he'd enjoy doing it, you think. That's a gift in itself such casual intimacy.

"Vanessa, is she…" Steve's minty fresh breath pushes over your face like a small gale. "She's not picking on you, is she?"

You like to be honest with Steve, and you want to be honest now — I don't know. But you hate thinking he'd have to look after you more than he does already.

"No," you say, "we just aren't a good fit."

"Like a puzzle?" Steve asks sceptically.

"Guess my pieces are a little warped after spending so much time with you."

He laughs like you're the funniest girl he's ever met, a big breathy sound with the punch of his voice behind it. "Guess they are," he says, hand climbing higher over your chest. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Never," you say lightly.

He smiles at you. You forget Vanessa's out of place comments, her weak smiles, her for-show friendliness in front of Steve. She doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, and letting her dictate your thoughts in gorgeous, glowing moments like this would be a waste.

"Love you," you whisper.

Steve nestles into the space under your jaw. He doesn't fit but he does, of course he does, he's your everything. If that's where he wants to sleep tonight, so be it. You turn into his grasp to take the pressure off of his arm and return his gentle hugging, forcing his face closer so you can breathe in the smell of his hair.

"Love you," Steve says. He kisses your neck chastely. "Turn the light off?"

You reach back blindly and switch off the lamp. Everything will be okay as long as you have your boy. Right?

—

Vanessa gets worse. She makes neutral comments with enough friendliness to make you wonder if she's truly being cruel? Am I just looking for a fight? What do I want?

Maybe it's Vanessa's clear preference for Steve. You could be jealous. You aren't sure what jealousy feels like in relationships until she's touching him when she doesn't need to be and smiling at him like he hung the moon. She doesn't go overboard, though. She keeps her hands mostly to herself. She goes as far as to tell Steve that she thinks you're beautiful.

You don't know how to explain your reservations to him if he can't already see it. If she'd really thought you were beautiful, surely that's something she could say face to face, rather than the unhappy little nod she gives you whenever you cross paths? Despite evidence suggesting it, you don't think Vanessa's trying to make a move on Steve.

She's a bit of a bitch, but that's not a crime. Unfortunate? Yes. Illegal? No. Immoral? You aren't sure.

It's her most obvious dig yet that manages to grab Steve's attention a second time since the poker incident.

"I couldn't let my eyebrows grow out like yours," she says, voice bubbly with a faked awe, "I think it's super cool of you."

"Vanessa," Robin says, eyes on her plate, an inquisitive twist to her voice that you've come to know as her sarcasm, "we're in the apocalypse."

Steve, who'd seemed torn between speaking up and genuinely confused about the comment Vanessa'd made, chokes on his food beside you, soup dribbling down both corners of his mouth as he laughs. You wipe the corners of his mouth with your long sleeves.

"Jeez, you're like my baby," you say. Your voice is occluded by Jonathan's silvery giggles.

Steve swallows roughly, "I resent that."

He still lifts his chin so you'll rub the bead that's escaped down his throat.

Vanessa ends up laughing too, says, "I think I'm just crazy tired," punctuated with a high-pitched laugh.

"Honestly, me too," you say, because maybe she is, and maybe she needs just a little smidge more benefit of the doubt.

"I've been keeping her up," Steve says smugly.

"He still making you read that King book? The Gunslinger?" Jonathan asks. "Will wants it whenever you're done."

"Every night," you say.

You're pretending it's a chore because that's what you and Steve always used to do. These days room for sincerity is much larger, but it's fun to give him a hard time when, at the end of the day, you'll crawl into bed together and tuck his face into your neck, flipping to the dog-eared page of your worn paperback to read in dulcet tones until he's a dozing weight warming your skin.

Steve looks for your hand under the table and lets your small group of friends laugh at him. Chris makes a whipping sound through the corner of his mouth. It's surprisingly accurate, and it makes you laugh worse, leaning your weight into Steve's arm for support in an action so familiar it's entirely thoughtless.

"It's not that funny," he murmurs, breath tickling your forehead.

"M'not laughing," you say.

You are most definitely laughing. It's a good moment, even if Vanessa's comment sticks around underneath to nibble at your heart.

He doesn't let your hand go for a really long time. Not when you're taking the plates up to the dirty dishes trolley, or on the walk back to Little Hawkins' with everybody in high spirits. He struggles to unlock your door one handed and he's still insisting when you try to tug away from him.

"Let me make the bed."

"We're getting back in 'n like, ten minutes."

"You're tired?" you ask.

"No. I just wanna lay down with you."

He says it simply. Concise, with neither affection nor anything less. It's damn near factual. Steve just wants to lay down with you, out of everything in the world he could do. He could be haunting Robin's room, stealing snacks from under her bed and claiming them as bribes for not tattling on her to Hopper. He could be with Dustin in the new rec room —aptly labelled Nerd Club, when put to a vote— arguing on how to spend the valuable alloted half hour of TV time.

He could stay with you and insist on other things. Reading. Self-defence. A walk around the community. Sex. An early night. A cold shower.

But he's content to lay with you, to share one another's space without asking for anything else.

Though you won't rule everything out. His kisses lately are a lot more than you're used to.

"Let my hand go, you fiend!" you declare, overcome with a rush of affection for him. "I'm gonna make the bed and we're gonna lay down and then after that we're gonna go bother Robin."

"You know, I'm not sure I like this you and Robin thing."

You tug your fingers from his. It's like trying to escape a sticky fly trap.

"You mean us being friends?" you ask.

You throw all of your throws and pillows onto the ground and grab your thick quilt, shaking it out over your mattress as Steve groans.

"Exactly!"

"I thought you wanted me to have friends?"

"Of course I do, you word-twisting douche."

"Nice, nice. Dustin or Mike?"

"I stole that one from Will, thank you very much."

"See! You have upwards of four friends, Steve, and I'm not allowed to have any?"

He grabs you from behind. You drop the quilt with a sigh, going limp as a fish in his arms. He staggers backward under your dead weight but manages to keep you up, breath tickling the inside of your ear as he says, "No, you're not. Just me." He kisses your ear.

"I tried that and everyone got mad at me."

"No, they didn't."

They really didn't. You cover his arm with your fingers, rub your fingertips over the hill of his arm. His arm hair is soft.

"Steve."

"What?" he asks, his hands crawling down to cover your stomach.

"Don't squeeze me."

"You're very squeezable."

"I was way more squeezable before, remember."

You'd lost some weight from the start of the apocalypse to now. Steve hates it. You're perfect, he'd said once, no matter what. But still, he laments your lost weight for what it represents — times where you and he had struggled to survive.

"I'm working on that," he promises.

You turn your face, shifting in the circle of his arms to meet his eyes. He has gorgeous eyes. You'd admitted that to yourself a long time ago but each time you really stare into them it takes a moment for it to settle. He is a pretty, pretty boy.

He's looking at you with a soft smile. Then, for a split second, you swear his eyes rove up to your brows. It's more than likely your imagination.

"Let me finish making this bed," you say, turning back to the discarded pile of pillows and blankets.

"You want your jammies?"

You snort happily. "Yeah, sweetheart. Lay 'em out for me, please."

—

For the last week or two, Steve has noticed a change in you. You've changed a lot since you met him (for the second time). You've gone from prickly and distant and somewhat distracted to determined, vigilant. You may not come on scrounging missions outside but you're brave, and you've survived more than he ever wanted you to have to go through.

This change is distinctive. It's like you've reverted to how you acted when you were more friend than girlfriend; you're self conscious.

He really hates it.

He can't work out what he did, or what happened, but it sucks. He sucks.

"There has be be something you want," he says.

You're standing with him by the south fence. He and his team are about to head out for the shopping mall for as many blankets as they can carry.

"I just want you to be careful," you say.

You look tired. It's early in the morning, and you'd woken up earlier still. Your hair is freshly washed from a cold shower.

You're still not comfortable showering without him, but of course the other girls aren't comfortable with him sitting in there when they're naked. You've had to schedule your showers for the dawn hour.

"I'm gonna be careful for free," he says, pulling at a wet strand of your hair. He scratches lightly around your ear before hooking his fingers underneath it, his thumb drawing from your cheek to your lips. "Pick something you want and I'll find it. You know, Robs said we might be able to pass by a real small cherry garden on the way home. Do you–" He should know this. Why doesn't he know this? "Do you like cherries?"

Thankfully, you laugh at his question and let your face fall into his hand. He thumbs your ear lobe gently.

"I don't want anything at all. 'Cept for you to be extremely careful," you say.

He pulls you in for a hug, smashes a messy kiss to your head, and tries to pull away because he's cool and the guys are watching.

You're less quick. You rub your cheek against his chest.

"Please, Steve," you whisper.

He frowns. There's something you're not telling him. He wishes you would, but clearly you don't think you can. He's gonna try to do whatever it is he needs to do to get you there.

Steve takes your face into both hands.

"I will be super careful, dummy. That's my middle name, I'm Steve Careful Harrington," he says.

"I thought your middle name was Danger?"

He kisses you. "No? Who told you that?"

Your laugh is pretty enough to keep him smiling for most of the hike to the mall, until Robin says, mid sentence, "–Jeez, you're pathetic."

Pathetic for you is something he doesn't necessarily mind being, but pathetic in general he cannot abide. He spends the rest of the hike stepping on the sides of Robin's shoes as she retells the plot of Murder on the Orient Express. Steve had seen the movie once but he's never read the original novel. Lucky him, Robin had an Agatha Christie phase when she was twelve, and she knows all the best parts.

Hike is a strange word considering all of their walking is through steep roads. They move past rundown cars, streets and streets of abandoned houses scraped clean. There's an elementary school with a rusted playground in front. Vegetation has already started to spread through the packed wood chip flooring, and one of the swings has a broken chain. Steve hadn't realised how quickly human things fell into disrepair when attacked by the elements and left maintenance.

The mall is a better example. Smashed glass lays around the entrance in tiny pieces like a huge back of upturned sugar, and bluegrass eats its way between paving stones. The team consists of eight people, including Steve, Robin, Christopher, and one of the College's co-leaders, a mister Jeremy Livingstone. They make their way carefully through the glass and grass in a wave of crunching footsteps to the front of the mall, where Steve wedges the flat blade of his knife between the automatic doors and works them open. When there's enough room for a second hand, Chris slides in beside him, and they work the doors open. Steve's biceps are burning by the time they're inside the mall.

"Alright, guys," Jeremy says. "There's a bedding store toward the back of the mall. We'll go there first, and then we'll try to work through the list of requests. Blankets and sheets are our second priority. Staying safe and alive is first. Only grab what you know you can carry, you can bring back whatever you want, just… don't be greedy. Alright?"

They head out for the bedding store at the back.

"How much stuff can we carry?" Robin asks him. "I have weak arms. I'm a weakling."

"Isn't there uh, a fancy storage place? We could drag a suitcase back."

"For two hours?"

"Is it two hours? Livingstone! You want me and Robin to grab some suitcases?"

Everybody fills a suitcase with sheets and blankets in plastic wrap. The brand new stuff feels like a luxury, and Steve dibs a double mattress bedspread made of Egyptian cotton, knowing that'll make you smile. Now he's got your mattress up on those crates from behind the cafeteria, your room has really come together. Blankets and trinkets and sweet glassware. You have a small shelf of books, your clothes, your pens and pencils.

Steve'll bring you anything you want, only you don't seem to want anything at all.

He'll just… have to bring you some of everything.

—

Your tears taste salty. You feel gross for licking a tear off of your top lip but nobody's around to see you do it; Steve might not be home until dark. You have time to get this upset out of your system.

You'd been asked by Maybelle to swing by Armoury and Amenities, an unofficial name for the building where the community keeps the bulk of its collective resources, for a new propane tank. You'd gone inside, said hi to Cooper, said hi to Vanessa, explained why you needed the propane, and left.

Or, you'd tried to leave. The propane tank was heavy, and the front door had been difficult to open one handed. You'd swung it open, quickly put your hand back on the tank to stop yourself from dropping it, and watched in frustration as the door slammed closed before you could worm your way out.

"She's the one who got, like, taken?" came Cooper's voice, pretty much as soon as the door stopped bouncing. His voice echoed from the next room.

"Sure, taken."

You'd stilled instantly.

"What, you think she wanted to go?"

Vanessa sighed. "No, I don't think so. She didn't try very hard to come back, s'all I'm saying."

"Chris says Harrington's infatuated with her. Like he's under a spell," Cooper said, chuckling.

"It's gotta be some kind of magic, she's… Well, God knows he'd have his pick if he came back to reality. You have the catalogue? I wanna note the propane before I forget."

And that had been that.

You don't understand why Steve loves you, sometimes. You know he does. It isn't up for questioning. Love with Steve is a lot of things — long talks in the mornings about anything and everything, his fingers tucking your shirt into your jeans. It's him pulling your hood over your eyes whenever he's behind you and laughing when you grumble. It's hiding in places you shouldn't be, hand in hand. It's miles of Indiana highway. It's heart-racing anxiety that one of you might not make it to the end. Love with Steve is a devotion: he takes care of you. He's taken care of you ever since you met.

You haven't stopped to wonder if you deserve it in a long time.

I don't, you think, half tears and all heartbreak. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve Steve. He's too good, the kind of good that starts life in the marrow of bones. He's sweet and soft-handed with a softer heart. He looks like a dream, and it shouldn't matter but it does. His voice is the only one you like waking up to, his lips hovering by the shell of your ear.

Time to get up, dummy. Rise and shine, angel. Baby, come on. We slept in, loser, and you need to get dressed. Hey, are you listening to me? I miss you, wake up.

"Y/N?" Steve asks, trying the handle.

You flinch hard, and your heart jumps with you. A flip flop somersault feeling in your chest that plummets to your stomach. You scratch madly at your cheeks with two woollen sleeves and stand up as he opens the door.

"Hey," Steve says, and he's safe, he's alive and well and home again.

He stands in the doorway with a bulging rucksack on his back, windbreaker zipped tight to his neck, hair a windblown mess. His nose is red from the cold and his cheeks are ice-bitten, though the colour is coming back to his skin slowly.

You don't feel as though you deserve him but you can't help yourself from springing into his chest, arms around his waist before he can blink. Before he can see the wet mess of your face, and your tear swollen eyes.

"Hey," he says again, leaning a great deal of his weight over your shoulders. He sniffs your hair. "Hey dummy. Told you I'd get home fine, huh?"

You try not to breathe too loudly against his chest. The fabric of his coat is stiff and cold, a contrast to your heated skin.

"Hey," he says, for a third time. This time it's all powdered sugar soft. Concern and exhaustion wrapped together. "I know, I'm sorry it took longer than usual. It's my fault, I wanted to get you something 'n' I made us all late coming home, I know you worry."

You don't answer again. You don't know how to explain it to him. You can barely understand it yourself. You cling to him and his solid mass until he gives in, his mouth pressed to your temple, his arms tightening behind your head. He shields you from the world for a handful of long, stolen minutes. There's nothing but his hugs, no sound to battle the plastic sounds of his windbreaker or the blood rushing between your ears.

"I didn't mean to worry you," he murmurs.

You don't trust your voice to come out whole.

He freezes under your touch. A slow hardening. His hands pause where they'd been rubbing short, featherlight lines.

"I'm sorry," you say, enthusing your tone with some self-deprecating cheer. "You're tired, I'm sorry. You wanna sit down."

"I really do." He laughs.

You peel away from him, the two of you sheepish and awkward and it's so unlike you, unlike him. You think you've made a fool of yourself as he takes off his rucksack, laying it carefully on the floor by the bed as you turn to your shared dresser and rummage through the top drawer for some clean clothes for him to take when he showers.

You've freaked him out, and he thinks you're a weirdo, and he's gonna realise you don't deserve him and you never could. You're bad at nearly everything, and you're a total slob, and you should've tried harder to get back to him, and it's all your fault. Misery grips you and drags you down hard. It spirals, surface level comments from a shallow, jealous girl, they twist and twist until you feel wrung out and useless. And now Steve's home, and you're–

"Are you mad at me?" Steve asks.

You wince and face him, his sweatpants pressed to your chest. "What?"

"You're not talking to me, and you only ever used to do that when you were mad."

You pass him his sweatpants, clear your throat. "Stevie, I'm not mad at you."

"Then what's up?" He unzips his windbreaker, keeping his eyes on you. "I know it's something."

You force yourself to keep a mild smile. You can't think of a lie — you don't want to lie.

Steve frowns as your face crumples, a large palm leaping to the curve of your neck.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You can't align this Steve with the one you knew in Hawkins. He's so different. Or maybe he isn't different at all, and you're lucky to see the depth of his feelings, the expanse of his goodness and his heart and his secret smile, corners pulled up and eyebrows pushed down just so. It says, You're okay, because we're gonna do this together. The world will keep spinning for us as long as we want it to.

"I had a bad day," you say.

"Are you sure? I've seen you on some bad days, baby. This doesn't feel like that, you know? And I get that I don't always know what to say, but I promise I wanna know. Whatever it is that's been making you all grumpy."

His smile glows, his eyebrows rising. His teasing tone toward the end of his reassurance is a lightness you cling to.

Lately, everything has felt so heavy.

"I'm worried I don't…" Even attempting to say it has your throat aching. You cover his hand with yours. "Steve, I– I feel bad lately. I feel like I'm bad."

He shakes his head, strands of his brown hair unsticking to dance in front of his eyes. "You're not bad."

"I don't deserve you."

He stares.

"Being with you now, having you look after me, I didn't deserve you when I met you." A tear gathers in the line of your lashes. "I don't deserve you now. I'm just me, I'm useless, and you don't have to be with me and I've," —you take in a shuddering breath, and step away from Steve's hand— "been trying to work out why you're still with me and it doesn't make sense. Why do you stay with me?"

"That's a stupid question," he says.

You try to swallow a lump. It stays right there in your throat.

"I got a policy against stupid questions, remember?"

"Steve…"

He cuts you off, tangling his fingers with yours, and easing you close until his breath is warming your lips and you can see the honey-browns that circle his pupils. They feel bigger the longer you look at them.

"How can you ask me that?" he says gently. "You know how much I love you… Right?"

You nod and knuckle a tear off of your cheek. "I know," you say, and you're crying now, little bubbling sobs that wobble your shoulders.

"Listen, if I haven't been showing it I'm sorry, and I'll prove it to you. I don't want you to question it."

"It's not you," you say, pressing your forehead to his collar, craving his comfort so much that you don't care if you don't deserve it.

"Everybody knows that line is a lie," he says.

"I'm not lying. Everybody knows I'm the part that doesn't fit."

"Who's everybody?"

You try to backtrack and pull away, but Steve won't let you this time. "I'm just having a bad day," you say, "and you've had a long one–"

"Stop it." Steve looks at you seriously. He takes your face into both hands, like he always does when he's worried. "I don't care if I crawled home with two broken arms, loser. I gotta know what's wrong. All of it. And you need to tell me."

He thumbs at your damp cheeks.

"Okay," you mumble, embarrassed and relieved at once. "I'll tell you."

You insist that he take his shoes off and stretch out in bed even though he's got dirty jeans on, and he doesn't wanna get your nest of throw blankets dirty, so he peels out of them and sits in his boxers at the top of the bed. You slide in next to him, and he works his arm over your shoulder, and you cry like a baby when he calls you honey under his breath.

—

"And these are for you, too," Steve says, pulling a slightly smushed box of cherries from the bottom of his rucksack.

You look beautiful. Afternoon sunlight drips in from a crack in the curtains, kissing up and down your smiling cheeks. Your eyes are still puffy, but your smile hasn't moved all morning.

"You didn't get anything for yourself?" you ask, though any outrage for him you harbour is hidden by your awe. "I don't remember the last time we got fresh fruit, and you didn't even put them at the top of the bag."

"You're such a whiner. Just try one."

Your fingers play delicately over the punnet of cherries. The cherry garden had had a lot of supplies left to 'borrow', and after a sickly half an hour of him and Robin staining their teeth, he'd managed to grab a perfect box's worth for you. Perfect before they got squished, that is.

"You should have the first one," you say.

"No," he says, and shoves the box at your calf. "They're for you. If you like them, I want you to eat all of them and throw up like a godzilla."

"Not sure you're remembering that movie right," you murmur, plucking one of the cherries out of the box.

You bite into the cherry and your eyes screw up. "Oh wow, that's sour. I don't…" You finish chewing, and Steve is rocketed to cloud nine when you go in for a second cherry, and then a third.

Last night had been tough. Steve spent a long time talking you down from what'd been sewn into your head, and he'd pulled the truth from you in strings. Vanessa had been cruel to you on more than one occasion now, which Steve had known but not to the full extent, and her last comment had been too much. Steve, unapologetically, hates her.

But Vanessa isn't the sole problem.

You're having a really hard time. All of this has been so much for you. It is, in Robin's words, the fucking apocalypse, and between nearly starving to death and all the shitty things that have happened to you, he isn't surprised to find you're fragile. And he doesn't say fragile, meaning weak. He doesn't know a lot about the world but he knows the human brain and body isn't built for this. You're his girl, and you're hurting, and while he knows objectively this isn't his fault, he vows to do a better job at protecting you.

He won't fail you again. He can't.

He watches cherry juice escape out of the corner of your mouth.

"You're cute," he says. "Where's the disposable? Pass it over."

"You are not taking a photo of me right now, baby."

"You look beautiful."

"When will we ever get the photos developed, anyway?" you say, laughing, kissing juice off of your fingertips.

He leaps for the camera and tussles you when you fight back. You laugh and lose, weak with giggles as he holds you away, his fingers pressing into the soft plush of your waist.

"Jonathan does all of that stuff," Steve says knowingly.

He gives you a little shove. You cover your face with your hands, words muffled, "Thought the camera was for me?"

"We're sharers. We share things. Look, if you don't smile for me I'm gonna take a picture of you in your underwear."

You throw your hands over your lap and he snaps a photo of your shy face.

"Shithead fucking pervert," you say.

Steve knows he's off the hook when you laugh.

He's gonna give Vanessa the coldest shoulder anyone has ever given, and if she were a guy Steve would defend your honour in a more physical manner. He'd suggested a verbal defence last night but you'd begged him to never, ever bring any of it up to Vanessa or your friends. It startled him —you have nothing to be ashamed of— but he'd agreed. Whatever's gonna make you happy is, perhaps cornily, what he wants to do.

Right now, making you happy is gifts on the floor of your tiny shared bedroom, pantsless but, fascinatingly, with socks. He points the camera at your ankles.

You grab the new blanket he'd given you and drape it over your legs. "Pervert," you reiterate.

He puts down the camera.

"Not my fault they made you perfect."

"Who's they?"

Steve shrugs, and can't keep the smirk off of his face as he says, "They made every damn inch of you perfect, especially but not limited to your pretty eyebrows."

Your smile settles into something more timid. You push your hill of gifts aside, careful not to spill your cherries, and walk the short distance on knees to wrap your arms around his neck. Your face fits into the curve of his neck exactly the way it always will. His hand cups your lower back.

"Love you, Harrington," you say.

"How much? 'Nough to let me have some of the cherries?"

You shake your head gently, the tip of your nose bumping his Adam's apple. "No…" you say apprehensively.

"No? You don't wanna share with me?"

"No." Your mumbling is adorable. Steve wants to eat you alive, or at the very least kiss you until you turn to jelly in his arms.

If he starts now, he can be done by dinner.

"Five seconds to change your mind. After that I'm taking all of them by force. Five, four, three…"

You shriek, and even your shrieking is a sound he wants to hear. You drop away from him and grab the cherries, cornering yourself too fast as you stagger to your feet and hide by the desk. Shoulders against the cabinet, you grab up one of your rare books like a shield, and you glare at him over the cover.

"You said they were for me!" you say, real panic in your voice. You know from experience Steve will tickle you until you can't breathe.

"They are for you! I love you," he says, words dripping with a false sincerity (though he loves you, undeniably). "I'm just trying to help you, sweetheart. You don't want my help?"

"You keep your help away from me, beast."

It doesn't take him nearly as long as he'd thought to melt you. He tickles you, and he steals a handful of your precious cherries, and when he kisses you dizzy it leaves red-pink splotches over the column of your neck, his smile temporarily printed into your skin.

—

ty for reading <3 I hope you enjoyed, and if you did pls consider reblogging <3<3

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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nburkhardt · 5 months

Text

Here is an angsty thing with a happy ending! (Please note: this takes place BEFORE seasons 3 & 4 but after demodogs.)

Pray for the Ground to Swallow Me Whole

He’ll eventually thank her for the domino effect she caused. It’ll be the best thing to happen to him, even if it meant leaving town very premature.

But for now, his heart hurts and his eyes are burning from holding the tears back. For now he’ll stand here and listen to words that’ll haunt him, to faintly be reminded of times when he was an ignorant asshole that only cared about himself and didn’t bother thinking of his actions.

Truthfully, he sorta thought this would happen.

The only ones who actually actively engaged with him was the kids, especially Dustin and Lucas. But if he was being truly honest with himself, a nasty voice in the back of his head always told him they just liked him because he saved them. He tried not letting that get to him.

Currently though? That nasty voice is whispering and it’s not just a voice in his head anymore.

The voice just sounds a lot like Joyce Byers.

“- you did help him and I’ll always be grateful for that. Honestly. But I also remember him coming home from school and telling me about this kid, this jerk who laughed and poked fun at him,” Joyce stops to take a breather, crossing her arms and looking disappointed as if he wasn’t already used to that kind of look, “It actually makes me very uncomfortable to have you around, you have to understand that?”

He choked down a defense and sob, blinked hard before looking away with a nod. Listening to this for the last twenty minutes has broken him down faster than Nancy calling him “bullshit”.

“Yes, Mrs. Byers, I’ll-I’ll leave your family alone”

She nodded, “I’d appreciate that, Steve. But I’m not just talking about my family”

He’s hit with ice and dread. Freezes up and looks back at her, “wha-what do you mean? I’m sorry, I’m confused”

“I don’t think it’s really appropriate for you to be around Will and his friends. With my knowledge of what Jon told me about you and the fact you are five years older than them. It would make a lot of their parents uncomfortable too. Don’t you know that?” She’s speaking softly now, like she’s talking to a scared animal.

And maybe she is, he feels like it.

He shakes his head, not to her though. To himself, shaking the memories of hang outs with the Henderson family. Memories of Claudia Henderson making extra food- “just in case, dear! You can even have leftovers for tomorrow!” And Dustin biking over just to tell him about the newest movie he wants to see- “we absolutely have to go, Steve! It’s gonna be a classic, trust me!”

The memory of Claudia hugging him close, telling him “such a blessing, sweetie! You’ll always be welcomed here” that still makes him cry late at night in his empty quiet home.

He avoids looking at Joyce, trying to figure out a way to get away.

“I- uh, I gotta, if you’ll excuse me” he mumbles and doesn’t smile or even look directly at her. Just moves around her to leave, as he walks out and overhears the excited voices calling for him, he ignores them and keeps his head down to avoid showing them how red his cheeks are in embarrassment and how much he’s holding back tears.

Without saying goodbye, he gets into his car and drives.

He doesn’t know how long he drives, doesn’t know where he’s going. Just driving to get away, to avoid listening to Joyce’s words that are already taunting him in his head. Slowly mixing in with “you’re bullshit” and “run away, Steve, always running away!” and all the disappointed sighs and taunts from his father.

The car picks the location for him, gas running low and he’s forced to stop at Lovers Lake. Pulling to a stop and turning his car off, he sits in silence. Staring ahead at the lake, eyes still burning.

It’s a long time as he just sits there. In silence.

Rubbing his eyes to get the tears to go away, there’s no reason to cry. She is right, he was an asshole and it is inappropriate for a eighteen year old to hang around thirteen year olds.

Even more inappropriate to hang around a house where he isn’t welcomed.

He rests his head against the steering wheel, arms around it and his knuckles turning white from how hard his gripping the wheel. His eyes burn and he laughs a bitter sound, lightly hitting his head against the wheel. “Fucking, knock it off, get yourself together” he mumbles and it’s weak, he chokes back another sob as he squeezes his eyes shut.

There’s a knock on his window that makes him flinch hard, eyes are wide and he’s immediately aware of how fucking stupid he was to let his guard down like that. Looking next to him he flinches again, not because he’s scared but because of who’s standing there.

Of all the people to find him right now, during probably his lowest point ever, is the local drug dealer. The twice senior and King of the Freaks, Eddie Munson.

“Hey man, uh, you okay?”

Shaking his head, he rests it back on his headrest taking a breath before rolling the window down. Munson takes a step back, he only knows because of the chains hanging from the guy’s pants.

“All good, Munson” he lies straight through his teeth, he doesn’t need to see how red his face is with how warm it feels. And his hands actually hurt now from how hard he was gripping the wheel, “i didn’t- uh, see anything.”

Since he’s leaning his head back on the headrest with eyes closed, he doesn’t see how Munson reacts. The only noise is just nature, birds chirping and the wind hitting leaves. He doesn’t even hear Munson moving, so opening his eyes he looks over and finds the guy standing there with an odd look on his face.

“Look, I’ll just- fuck,” he knocks his head back before rolling the window up and turning his car off, climbing out and avoiding looking directly at the guy. “I’m gonna just go”

Doesn’t bother waiting for something back, it’s been long enough in his own pity party. Now, he just needs to walk home and figure out how he’ll go about life without seeing the Henderson family and the rest of the kids.

“Are you walking? What the fuck, just leaving your car here?” Munson shouts out at him.

He glances back at his car then at Munson, slowing to a stop. “Why do you care?”

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, why would this guy care whether he leaves his car here? It’s only Hawkins, no one is going to steal his car. You’re more likely gonna come across a monster around than a stolen car.

Especially not at Lover’s Lake. Also why care about him? He’s an asshole and everything Munson hates and loudly announces at lunch.

He shakes his head and starts walking again, taking the silence that Munson doesn’t actually care about him. It doesn’t hurt to admit another person doesn’t like him, he honestly would be shocked if someone did like him.

What really hurts is the fake worry, the questioning, the fake concern and the curiosity.

He’s going to continue to walk home that’ll take him a few hours and will only make it back by dark. Without a weapon, without the bat to hold, because he left that in his car and Munson is still here. Can’t let him ask anymore questions.

“-sus Christ! Jesus, slow the fuck down Harrington!” Munson sounds out of breath, a lot closer too.

He flinches when a hand lands on his arm, “What? What do you want?” He turns and shakes the hand off, “if someone steals it, whatever. It- it doesn’t matter.”

Munson squints at him, looking confused, “Dude, wait, why are you crying?”

Touching his face, he laughs and it sounds so wrong. He is crying, didn’t even realize it was happening. Shaking his head, he turns around and doesn’t bother answering.

“Come on, Harrington!” Munson grabs hold of his shoulder and his grip is rough, “look, I’m sorry if you want to be alone but fuck, dude, you look like shit and crying alone is the worst. So, why don’t I give you a ride to whoe-“

Shaking his head, “like I have anyone to run to right now”

There’s a flash of Claudia and Dustin Henderson in his head and he wants, thinks that they’d shake him and hug him tight if they knew what was said and how it’s haunting him already. Won’t go away, it just brings more tears.

Munson’s silent and his hand drops, leaving behind a faint pressure and that hurts too.

“God, I’m so pathetic right now.”

“Nah, just lonely it seems”

His eyes snap to Munson and his hands are shoved into his jacket, kicking his foot before looking back at him, “I won’t judge, seriously. Let me help, even if it’s just to give you a ride”

“Just a ride?”

Munson nods, “just a ride, unless you change your mind”

He nods, taking a deep breath before stepping towards Munson, “okay, you can, um. Take me home?”

A smile spreads across Munson’s face and he takes his hands out to swing them towards where his van most likely is, “your chariot awaits, good sir!”

Despite his mood and how this might possibly be one of the worst days of his life, he cracks a tiny smile. Just enough to squeeze at his heart, actually.

Walking along side Munson is quiet, it’s a little peaceful. If he remembers correctly, Munson was never this quiet before. Always talking or laughing or yelling, he’s loud and sometimes overly obnoxious.

This is nice. Actually really nice, this quiet with him.

They make it to the van and the ride isn’t the same quiet but it’s still there. He can feel it deep in his bones now.

That this, right here, is peaceful.

Hello! This whole thing originally started back in May and I lost a little interest in this particular WIP, so I stopped and it’s been in my drafts since. Then I kept getting writers block, still have it tbh. But I read it back today and decided I can technically turn this into a two part fic instead of a one shot soo, it’s finally being shared!

I want to be clear that it’s an AU from after the demodogs and everything after that won’t be the same. And that I have nothing against Joyce but I thought “what if it was someone else than made Steve leave/didn’t like Steve?” guess who I picked 😇 plus we have enough Hopper & Joyce adopt Steve fics, we need a little more of them not doing that. Also!! There should be more fics of them being wrong, that they’re being judgmental and need consequences for their words & actions.

Anyway! I’m automatically assuming only a few people will read this far into my rambling. And if you did I love you, you get a platonic forehead kiss ☺️

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#steve harrington #eddie munson #joyce byers #stranger things #pre steddie #steve needs a hug #fic #nburkhardt writes #steve harrington fic #angst #hurt and no comfort #sorry but it’s just not there rn #eventually this boy will get it #and trust there WILL be steddie #maybe I’ll write the second part in Claudia’s pov 🤔#pray for the ground to shallow me whole

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