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bettyfrommars · 9 months

Note

Okay. An idea. Eddie and you, drive in, b movie monster marathon, nice crisp autumn night.

I’m over summer, sue me.

🧡🖤

Hope this puts a smile on your face Meg 🧡

Eddie Munson x Reader

18+ONLY, mature themes, smoking the devil's lettuce, b-movie references, friends to lovers, use of "baby" but no she/her or y/n, pure fluff, just some cute nonsense, Eddie and reader are in their early 20's. wc: 1.4k

I'm just a sucker (for you)

“Got it,” you crawled up into the squishy van seat with Eddie’s infamous drug lunchbox in your hand, plopping down with a theatrical smile on your face. “I knew I felt its presence.”

Eddie sat there looking so proud, as if you’d just pulled it out of a magic hat. “My baby is a bloodhound when it comes to the devil’s lettuce.”

You took a sharp inhale and choked a little at the use of the pet name. You and Eddie were not romantic like that, you’d only ever been weed buddies who met through Reefer Rick. Recently you’d discovered that he also enjoyed getting stoned or buzzed at the drive-in on Wednesday nights when they offered the cheesy, cinematic glory of b-movies by the likes of Burt I. Gordon and Roger Corman.

You’d both showed up alone to the drive-in, and on your way back to your car with a popcorn bucket almost too big for the crook of your arm, Eddie whistled to get your attention. It was a wolf-whistle, the likes of which made you frown as you searched for who the dead man was. His arm lolled out of the van window in a wave, and he gave you a finger gun.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you snorted, shoving a few kernels in your mouth, fingers glistening from all of the butter. You didn’t mind that kind of attention from Eddie because you knew he was harmless. Wasn’t he? Neither one of you had any attraction to each other, whatsoever, as far as you knew.

But then, you stopped in your tracks a few cars down, thinking about how you’d smoked your last bowl earlier, and Eddie would for sure have a decent supply on him. Maybe it wouldn’t kill you to hang out with a fellow freak for a bit.

The October nights were chilly, and you thought to grab a hoodie out of your car before you made your way back to his van. The grass at your feet was scattered in burnt orange and gold leaves, and the air was crisp, yet warm, with the smell of rain and freshly cut wood.

Eddie saw you walking back and jumped out of his vehicle this time, determined to get your attention. He held his hands behind his back, lifting up on his toes, tentatively. “Did you come back to give me a kiss?”

His mannerisms made you chuckle. “Keep dreaming, Munson,” you pushed the popcorn tub into his chest, and he grunted, taking it with both hands. “I thought you might like some company.”

Eddie squinted at you, whispering, leaning in, “you came to smoke all my weed like a little feral, stoner raccoon.”

The movie started —Attack of the Crab Monsters—and Eddie feared he’d left his lunchbox at home. You weren’t sure why, but you were about to stay and watch the movie with him even without the weed, but then you decided to take a chance and check around his messy van, just in case.

“Why is there a bed set up in the back?” You asked, wondering if maybe he was in between living situations at the moment. You’d been staying with your mom since you dropped out of college, and most days, you wished you were living in your car.

Eddie wiggled his eyebrows at you as he fingered a joint and slipped it behind his ear, snapping the lunchbox closed. “Wouldn't you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, you have about as much game as I do. There’s no way you’re getting laid that often in this van.”

“You know what they say,” he looked around, making sure no one was walking by as he passed you the lighter. “If the van’s a rockin’, don’t bother knockin’.”

You checked around too, and then sank down in your seat to take a long drag, passing it back to him, fanning the smoke away, coughing a few times, while the scenes from the black and white film flickered across your face. Just beyond the movie screen stretched a line of trees dressed in fall colors, and a big, bright, dark blue sky that burned purple over the hills.

You shared sneaky pulls off of the joint for the rest of the movie, each of you getting progressively invested in the loose plot, and giggly about it all at once. Eddie asked you a few personal questions, which you weren’t expecting, and sometimes you could feel his eyes on you. It was a double-feature night, and right after the crab monsters they were showing a personal favorite of yours: The Monster Club with Vincent Price.

It also happened to be one of Eddie’s favorites.

“There’s no way,” he shook his head dramatically, brushing his bangs off his forehead. “Nope. It’s impossible you love this movie, too. No one I know has ever even heard of it.”

“Well,” you had one foot hanging out the open window, sucking from your straw. “I feel bad for the ones who haven’t heard of it. It’s a masterpiece.”

You let him know that you had to run to the restroom but that you would be right back, because you didn’t want to miss the beginning, and you asked if you could get him anything. As you said it, you could tell he was doing his best to contain the smile yanking at the corners of his mouth, but his efforts were fruitless.

“So,” he crossed his arms, tilting his head sideways to give you a curious look. “I guess you do like spending time with me?”

“Absolutely not,” you teased, slamming his door shut on your way toward the concessions.

There were butterflies in your stomach as you returned to the van, though; an undiagnosed thrill in your veins that had something to do with seeing his face again.

With Vincent Price’s face looming over the parked cars, Eddie cleared his throat. “Do you, um, have any plans for Halloween?”

“I never have plans,” you gave a self-deprecating bark of a laugh. Your favorite holiday was in a couple days and the most you had done was carve a few jack-o-lanterns. “I mean, used to, when I was kid, but these last couple years have been…rough.”

Eddie kept his eyes on the screen, plucking at the steering wheel with his thumb. “Do you, um, think you might want to come see a band with me?”

You snapped your head to look at him, but his eyes only flicked to you once before returning to the movie.

“A buddy of mine is in a cover band and, um, they’re playing at the haunted maze,” he pressed his lips together and then blew them out on a puff of air. “But I totally understand if it’s not your scene. I’ve got a shit ton of old horror movies at my place, too, or I’ve got friends at Family Video, we could—”

“Eddie Munson,” you had a funny feeling flopping its way from your stomach to your heart. “Are you asking me out on a date? Or are you just asking me to join you as a friend?”

“Now that all depends,” he lowered his chin, wiping something imaginary off of his jeans. “What would you say if I did ask you out? Would you, um, be into that sort of thing?”

“Shhhh,” you halted, eyes straight ahead. “Hold on, I love this part.”

You used it as an excuse to reach over and grab his forearm, to touch him, to give the type of reassurance that words couldn’t. You squeezed him through his leather jacket a few times, only a couple seconds, and Eddie watched it in slow motion, aching to take your hand. The distance was suddenly too far.

It was a song sequence with a vampire band on stage at the Monster Club singing “I’m just a sucker for your love.”

“You come from Pennsylvania

I’m from Transylvania

And I’m a pain in the neck...

When I kiss and fondle her

It’s like making love to a

Colander”

You could hear Eddie mumbling the lyrics and tapping his thumb, because he knew the obscure song by heart.

“Yes, Eddie,” you kept your attention on the screen, and now it was you losing the battle with a smile so big it pushed up your cheeks. “I think I would like to go on a date with you.”

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #October #Halloween #drive-in movie #fall #eddie x reader #requests

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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year

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Hi Elle!! Hope all is well 💕💕

Can I request a headcanon or fic of where Dick and y/n have been in a serious relationship for a few years and OC has become a “mom figure” to all the other batboys. So when the batboys misunderstand Dick and OC getting into a big fight somewhere, they both come home (either to their place or to the manor) to find that the batboys have moved/thrown out all of Dick’s things because they love OC that much??

Thank youuu ☺️

Ahhh this is such a cute little idea!! Thank you so so much for the request it’s lovely to see an old friend <333

Found Family - Dick Grayson x Reader

Steph gave you a sympathetic smile as she poured the rest of the wine bottle into your now empty glass. “What’s wrong hun? Because if it’s boy troubles I will personally castrate Richard if he hurt you.” Which only made you sigh as you nodded. Her eyes widened, you and Dick never ever fought, and this foreign emotional territory was a shock to you too- hence the wine.

“Dick asked me to move in with him, but I’m not ready to leave my place! I love Gotham, and I’m not sure Bludhaven is where I’m meant to be. But I also know I could never leave him. I just told him I needed more time to think and I think he took it really personally. It’s not that I’m not ready to live with him, I’m just not ready to leave my life here even if it is just a town over.” You said, happy to put into words the emotions swirling in your chest.

“What?! You are NOT leaving Gotham anytime soon. What on earth would I do without you here?” Steph exclaimed, putting down her glass to pick up her phone, fingers typing frantically.

Less than a minute later, Tim was jogging into the Manor kitchen, “Dick’s tryna take Y/N from us? Over my dead body.” And before you could tell him otherwise, the young hero burst out the room, clearly on a type of war path.

“No! I love Dick and you guys, Bludhaven is great! I just need-”

“Taking down Richard has always been on my bucket list.” Damian’s snarky voice echoed through the manor as he stalked out the same door as Tim. You scrambled up and after him, but Steph side stepped in front of you, “don’t you dare try to fix this, we’ve got it!” Which only made you more nervous for the future of your relationship.

Before you knew it, another bottle was opened, and the colors of the Manor living room were awfully fuzzy. You were pretty sure you’d seen Jason, Tim, and Damian zipping in and out of the manor, each repeatedly promising an increasingly violent demise for your boyfriend, who’s radio silence was only making you more anxious. Steph, while physically with you, was terrifyingly glued to her phone, sending text after text- even taking the occasional call, but she was speaking quiet enough that your tipsy-mind couldn’t process the words flying out of her mouth.

You truly weren’t sure how much time had passed when Dick burst through the manor shouting “Stephanie Brown where the hell did you hide her!” And before you could shriek with excitement, Dick appeared in front of you, his eyes frantic until he saw you were okay.

“Dickie!” You cooed, outstretching your arms so he would scoop you up into a hug. And he did. He was breathing heavy, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he took a deep inhale. You were just giddy to see your handsome man, squeezing him tighter, wrapping your legs around his waist, happy to be carried as you weren’t sure you could stand in your current state.

“What on earth did they do to you sweetheart,” Dick mumbled, walking back towards the kitchen so you could place you on a counter, you leaned back to look up at his eyes. He swiped a hand over your cheek, you assumed you were still warm from the alcohol.

“She’s. Fine. Can’t say the same about you you selfish monster,” Steph slurred her speech, pointing an accusatory finger at Dick who gave you both a confused look.

Almost like a sitcom, the three other boys burst into the room, as if on cue.

“Step away from the woman Grayson!” Jason shouted as Damian lobbed the nearest manor antique he could get his hands on at Dick, who of course caught it effortlessly, setting it down next to you on the counter.

“What the hell is going on?” Dick raised his voice, but Tim was already in between the two of you, pushing Dick backwards as Damian hopped up onto the counter next to you, silently handing you a glass of water which you graciously took, enjoying the plot unfolding before you.

“No questions at this time Richard, as Y/N’s personal advisor I’m here to state the case.” Tim began, Jason and Damian nodding in agreement. Steph had her phone out, clearly filming the entire argument.

Tim continued, “it has come to our attention that you intend to take Y/N from us.”

“I asked her to move in with me?” Dick looked exasperated but intrigued by the way his brothers had turned on him in your name.

“And in doing so, you’d be removing her from Gotham, and therefore the four of us!” Tim concluded, and at the statement, Jason, Steph, and Damian mumbled angry agreements.

Dick scoffed, “I’m sorry, I thought she was my girlfriend, and you guys love coming to Bludhaven! With Y/N there it’s more reason for everyone to spend more time over there.”

Damian piped up immediately, “we hate Bludhaven Richard, Y/N is the only thing that makes it manageable.”

Jason snorted, “ever realized we only go over for dinner when Y/N is visiting you? Or that Steph only wants Sunday bagels in Bludhaven cuz Y/N spends the weekends there? Did you seriously think we just went over for you?” You cringed as the harsh tone, but Dick didn’t look offended, rather, proud?

Dick opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. Tim spoke up again, “Don’t worry Richard, I’ve already mended the problem at hand.”

Now Dick spoke up, “what the hell did you brats do now”.

“To the Zeta Tube!” Jason called, scooping you and Damian up in one arm and sprinting towards the teleporter, with Dick screeching for him to put you down following close behind. For once, Damian wasn’t squirming out of Jason’s grasp, rather he had quietly grabbed your hand, saying “I hope you love your new home” to you right before the Zeta Tube activated.

When you came through, Jason set you and Damian down happily, and you were situated in a fully furnished apartment. Furnished with your and Dick’s combined furniture. You froze for a moment, feeling like you were in a different dimension until you notice the window in the apartment. You recognized the block corner instantly.

“We refurbished an old safe house! It’s south west Gotham, so close enough to Bludhaven that Dick can’t whine too much, but only a couple minutes drive, or instant Zeta Tube to the manor!” Tim exclaimed excitedly.

Damian piped up, “we stripped Dick’s apartment to the ground to furnish it! Not like either of you will be needing it anyway!”

Dick had been silent, drinking in the new view. But he came up beside you to stare out the window, “I think they just made a compromise for us, but I do want you to love it. What I should’ve said earlier, is that I don’t need to be in Bludhaven, I need to be with you. You’re my home Y/N.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you leaned back into his chest.

You spoke up, “I love it, and I love you, and I especially love you guys,” you turned around to face your family. Steph was grinning, Jason was nodding knowingly, Tim was off slightly adjusting furniture placements, and Damian was- wiping away a tear. Not worth pointing out, because he’d deny it anyway, but your heart was bursting knowing the little guy wanted you near just as badly as you wanted to be close to him.

“Tim! Get over here, it’s group hug time!” Dick called, throwing an arm around Jason and Steph while you scooped up Damian, who for the second time that day, wasn’t fighting back. Tim crashed into the hug and your swore you could feel your heart beating out of your chest with pride in your found family.

Tim’s phone vibrated and he shouted “Dick! You’re rich! The Bludhaven apartment just sold!” And Dick shrieked, “You put my apartment up for sale in a day!!” To which Damian shrugged, “not like there was anything in there after we were through.” Jason nodded in agreement saying: “yeah, you don’t even wanna know what plan B was if you said no to this place!” But Steph shushed him before he could divulge any more, most likely violent, secrets. You couldn’t help but grin knowing your family had your back no matter what, even if Dick was slightly concerned over his brother’s undying loyalty to you, it made staying in Gotham that much more worth it to you both.

“As your realtor I will be taking 15% of the profit! Gonna go meet the new tenants!” Tim called, beelining to the Zeta Tube before Dick could even try to tell him no. You gave Damian’s hair a ruffle, which he immediately tried to fix, as Jason and Steph nodded, knowing they could be over whenever, but you and Dick probably wanted a moment to get used to the new place.

And suddenly, it was quiet. The bustle of the Gotham streets was faint, and you walked through the apartment which was truly designed perfectly, imagining the dinner parties, late night adventures, and peaceful mornings you’d get to have in your new place.

“As much as I hate to admit it, they did good.” Dick broke the silence. You nodded in agreement, unable to wipe the heartfelt smile off your face, you gave him a peck and said, “They sure did, it feels good to be home.”

I hope you enjoyed!! Thank you again for the request!

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vmpyria · 12 days

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ok respectfully you’re writing is absolutely ethereal😭. Anyways I have a prompt that may get you to write something for the SF fandom (I’m very fixated on it and I can’t find decent content lol)

~ok so yk how Sal is on that killing spree to free everyone from the red eyed demon thing? What if the reader had been living there and now he has to kill them? Idk I just feel very angsty today

(have a lovely day 💜)

SAL FISHER X READER: the end.

i am putting a gun to my head, this was agony. i did some small research on how it feels like to be stabbed so my description is a bit detailed. i tried to expand on the feelings sal felt as he did this :( i hope i did the scene justice and i hope you enjoy! reblogs & replies help me be motivated!

TW — murder, blood, depictions of stabbing and death. angst.

sal’s chest felt heavy.

this felt like a scene straight from his nightmares, but no — it was real.

his eyes were clouded with tears, his lip quivering. his tears stained his skin and the inside of his prosthetic. he stood over the corpse of soda and faced chug’s bloodied corpse.

“i—i’m sorry.” sal stuttered.

in his hand he held the knife.

he wanted to die, he wanted to stab himself just like how he stabbed the others.

first, he lost larry. larry, his best friend. his brother. the demon was beginning to take over him leading him to do the did the only thing he could — drank himself to death to avoid having his soul taken away from him.

then, terrance.

the little boy broke the heartbreaking reality to him.

to save them all, he had to kill them.

sal didn’t want to, he didn’t want to hurt them. his friends, his family.. but, it was either save them by killing them or lose them to the demon’s power.

the world wouldn’t understand, but at least he did. at least he knew that this was the easy way out.

sniffling, he stumbled to the door of chug’s apartment and then walked out.

his grip on the knife was tight, the the sudden realization of what was next almost made his collapse.

you.

you were next on his list, you.

his girlfriend, his everything, his confidant. you. he had to kill you next.

his stomach twisted, the anxiety, the fear, the grief, the pain. it was all too much, he felt nauseous, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

he wanted to be with his mom.

he wanted to be cradled by her, to have his face pressed against his mother’s chest as he wept away the fear of this nightmare. he wanted her to gently pet his hair and reassure him — ‘it was just a nightmare, dear. it’s okay, mommy’s here and she’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.’

but no, his mom wasn’t there. she wasn’t going to hold him, she wasn’t going to tell him he would be okay. she wasn’t there.

and now, you weren’t going to be there either.

you had been the one he cried to when he felt the grief of his mother’s passing, you had been there. you had always been there. you listened to him, you held him, you cried with him.

and now he was going to lose you.

who was he going to cry to after this? his dad is dead, larry is dead, you’ll be dead soon. who was going to hold him and reassure him he did the right thing?

you weren’t gone yet, but he was already mourning.

the walk to your apartment felt like he was walking to his doom, which honestly felt like he was.

he had sobbed as he went up to the floor you lived in, he moved his prosthetic to wipe his tears and now he was in front of your apartment door.

it was time.

opening the door with the spare key you had gifted him during your first year anniversary, sal stepped inside.

the apartment smelled like you, he could smell the sweet candles you had set up around the house, they were vanilla scented.

he always loved the smell of your apartment.

“hello?” you called from your bedroom.

sal froze at the sound of your voice, soft and his favorite. he loved your voice, he could fall asleep to you just rambling.

you entered the front area and saw sal, a bright smile spread on your lips almost immediately. “sal!” you said happily.

you could tell he didn’t seem lively, the knife was in his back pocket, hidden from your view.

looking at his hands, you saw the blood that stained them, then you noticed a bit of blood on his mask. “sal?!” you said in alarm, walking closer. “are you hurt? are you okay? what happened?” you asked, concerned for him.

he’s going to miss you, so, so much.

he was going to miss the way you smiled, the way your eyes crikled, the way you pursed you lips when you focused on something, your laugh, the way you lit up the room, your hair, you skin, your style, your art, your music taste, your everything.

he was going to miss how you always shared snacks with him, how you always called him at night while he was in the suburbs, how you would arrange study dates. how you would hold his hand tightly and point out every single thing you liked, how you cared about him.

he was going to miss how you—

“sal?” you asked, standing in front of him , your eyebrows furrowed up in worry for his wellbeing.

he wasn’t going to miss this, what he was going to do to you.

“i love you.” sal said, his hand reaching to his back pocket.

you laughed, “i love you too! what’s happening?” you smiled, an eyebrow raised in confusion. sal’s hand gripped the base of his knife.

“please forgive me.” he whispered, you could feel his heavy gaze behind his mask, the way his voice cracked, was he crying?

you looked down at his hand, watching as it reached for the back of his pocket, you then saw the blade that peaked from behind him, stained and bloodied.

you stepped back, “sal? sal— what..what is going on?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh as you stepped away from him.

you heard a muffled sob come from him, “please, y/n. please forgive me, this is the only—way.” he said, you could hear the pain behind his voice, he was now gripping the knife by his side.

“the only way for what? sal, s—sal, please put the knife down, what’s going on?” you asked frantically as you tried to step away from him.

sal’s vision was cloudy from the tears, his already broken heart shattering as he watched the fear in your eyes. “the d—demon, it..i need to save you, please..” he sobbed, stepping closer.

you pressed against the wall and watched desperately as sal stalked closer to you.

“i love you, y/n.” sal whispered.

he stood in front of you, his shoulders shook as you stared at him. you were at a loss for words, your eyes were wide in fear, tears quietly streamed down your cheeks.

sal’s grip on the knife got tighter, his knuckles turning white. “say it back—“ he sobbed, “p—please, say you love me.” he cried.

he was begging, pleading for you to say your words to him.

“s—sal—“ you stuttered fearfully, “i love y—you, i always have.” you sobbed, your gaze moving down to his knife.

“please don’t—“ you pleaded, sal gulped and shook his head. “i know it might not look like it..b-but i’m saving you, i promise.” he stumbled.

he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t have the strength to lift the knife and puncture your stomach.

you stared at him fearfully, you never understood much of the paranormal activity, you only knew a surface level of information, but you trusted him.

how silly.

he’s about to kill you, but you trusted his word. he had always been the person you most relied on.

a sudden punch was felt against your abdomen.

one, and another, and another.

you didn’t register the fact he had stabbed you yet, the adrenaline rush hiding the agonizing pain that would soon take over.

looking down, you watched as sal removed his knife from your stomach. your blood was oozing out, staining your clothes and then you felt it—

it felt like a searing pain in your skin, your organs had ruptured at the impact and now you were left in agony.

a choked cry left your lips as you tried to cradle your wounds, your knees feeling weak, and then your screamed. a gurgly guttural scream, one that displayed the agony you felt as your wounds seared.

you collapsed on the floor with a heavy thud.

sal stood over you, he was taking off his prosthetic.

dropping it down to the floor, he sank down to his knees and he was quick to hold you. he could feel your warm blood staining his shirt as he held you.

your hearing was muffled, you couldn’t make out what he was saying, you could hear your blood streaming through your body and your pulse.

it hurt so much you couldn’t even speak.

your breathing got fast, you felt yourself gasping for air. your chest hurt, you couldn’t breathe— your mouth began to fill with a metallic liquid.

blood began to spill from your mouth, your coughs were gurgled.

your body was moving with every sob that came from sal. his grip on your was deadly. he didn’t want to let go, he wanted to savor the warmth of your body one last time.

now he was weeping, his sobs were loud and guttural, he wanted you back. he wanted you to hold him, to tell him you were fine.

he had envisioned himself growing old with you.

he even thought about marrying you when he finished his studies, he wanted to have a family with you. it all sounded so stupid now, but he was envisioning the life he could’ve had with you.

he babbled various ‘i love you’s’ as he held you.

his voice was muffled for you.

you were so tired.

your eyes got heavy, your strength was depleted. you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to speak.

you couldn’t.

it hurt, everything hurt so much.

your airways filled with mucus, your breathing got nasally and scratchy.

you weakly held sal’s hand for one last time and then your eyes slipped shut.

two more breaths passed and suddenly it all stopped.

sal sore that time stopped.

your grip stopped and your body went limp.

looking down at you, sal let out a sob, his face was tear-filled and red. his heart was broken.

first his mom, then larry, then his dad and lisa, everyone — and finally you.

the people he most deeply cared about were gone, and it was all because of him. he did this, the guilt that overcame his body was immense. he thought about stabbing the knife deep into his abdomen and twisting it, to feel the same pain you felt.

but he was scared.

deep down, he was just a small child, one that grew up alone, the only people that accepted him were gone.

now, he was left alone.

just how it started.

#sally face x y/n #sally face x you #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sally face #tw.dark content #tw.death #x reader #angst #no happy ending

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melanieph321 · 5 months

Text

Ruben Dias x Reader - A House Is Not A Home Part 5/8

⚠️Warning ⚠️

- car s*x

18+

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

"There she is! I see her! Mommy, mommy!"

You were standing by the town square waiting for the bus. As it pulled up to the station your son, Johnny, spilled out and made a run towards you.

"My baby!"

He ambushed you with a hug and you gladly picked him up and twirled him around.

"Mommy, look what gammy got me."

Your son showed you a little toy car, not bigger than the size of his palm.

"That's for letting me yank out that old tooth of his." Your mother said, as her bad hip had her limping towards you.

"You lost a tooth?" You gasped.

Johnny nodded excitedly.

"Show me."

He displayed his little baby teeth and indeed one was missing.

"Isn't it to early for him to lose teeth?" You asked.

"How can you blame him." Your mother exclaimed. "The stress of moving across the country. He'll be toothless by the time he starts the first grade."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring your mother. She had always been very vocal about you buying a house so far away from home, in the country at that. You had been raised in the city and that's where your mother meant you belong. You suspected that she missed you, with your dad being gone. And now you were taking Johnny from her too.

"It's cold in here, no?"

Arriving at the house you put Johnny down and let him explore his new home. You and your mother started unpacking their things as she had agreed to stay with you for a few days.

"It's the heater. I think it's broken. " You immediately got up to sort out the fireplace.

"An open fire." Your mother scuffed.

"Mom don't start."

"Baby, you can't have a four year old running around where there is an open flame. It's dangerous."

"Well, I'm not gonna let him freeze."

"Don't you have someone who can come and take a look at the heater, it can't be impossible to fix?"

You had someone who could come over, but that someone wasn't speaking to you anymore. Two weeks had gone by since you last spoke to Ruben, the last time being when he kissed you. It was petty and childish of him not to want to sort things out as an adult and so you decided to let him be, to not hunt him down for answers or help anymore.

The following days involved a lot of administration work for you. For this you were grateful for your mother's presence, as she helped you get Johnny's insurance sorted, the house insurance sorted and help you enroll Johnny to a nice kindergarten. It was all going well and Johnny really seemed enjoy his new town.

"Look, horse!" He exclaimed, as the three of you had joined the locals at a street market that the town had put together. Many people were selling their own goods like crops and honey. One farmer was even letting the kids ride his horse around the block.

"Careful Johnny, don't get to close to it."

"It's okay mom. The horse is tied up."

The farmer let Johnny pet the horse and sit on it's back. Meanwhile you and your mother checked out the many market stands, one of them being Katarina's.

"Y/N!" She exclaimed at the sight of you. "I haven't seen you for ages, where have you been?"

"You know...fixing up the house."

"Really? Has Ruben been up there helping you?"

"Um...no, not really."

"No?" She frowned. "Then what has that man been up to theses days." She murmured. "He barley comes over either."

"Who's Ruben?" Your mother budged in, which was a good time for you to introduce her.

"Mom, meet Katarina. Katarina and her husband let me stay with them after the storm damaged my house."

"Of course." Your mother nodded. "Thank you for taking care of my baby."

"Mom." You were embarrassed.

"With pleasure, she's lovely." Katarina offered your mother her hand. They both smiled as they shook.

"Mommy, mommy!" At some point Johnny came running, tugging at your jeans. "I rode the horse mommy, did you see?"

You picked him up and wiped a dead eyelash from his cheek. "I did see you baby, you looked really cool."

"Gammy, did you see me. I looked cool."

"I did see honey." Your mother gladly unhanded Johnny from you, giving his face a round of wet kisses. As Johnny squirmed in anguish you noticed Katarina and the peculiar expression that had come across her face.

"This is my son, Johnny." You realized that you hadn't told her about him, you hadn't told anyone about him.

"You have a son?" She smiled, although her smile was stiff and a bit sorrowful.

"Yes. He just turned four. He has been living with my mother up until now..... because of the house."

"Of course." Said Katarina. "May I ask, does Ruben know about him?"

"Who, my son?"

"Yes, dear."

Well he knew of Johnny, you thought. Little did he know...."Yes, yes he does." You lied.

Katarina nodded her head but remained silent. Suddenly she perked up. "Tell you what, why won't you and your family come over for dinner tonight? David is hosting a small gathering to celebrate the years harvest."

"We accept the invitation." Your mother said, beating you to it.

"Wonderful. I'll see you at our house at six, there'll be a BBQ so come on an empty stomach.

"Thank you Katarina."

Back at the house you weren't sure if you wanted to attend this gathering.

"Why not?" You mother protested, surley she was up to it for the free BBQ, the fact that she wouldn't have to cook for once.

"I don't know mom." You weren't really in the mood.

"Does any of this have to do with that man the lady mentioned, Ruben?"

You were astonished how alert your mother were at picking up on things.

"She said he used to come over and help you with the house and now he's not coming over anymore, no?"

You shook your head. "No."

"My sweet child."

"Well you've made things difficult for yourself indeed. But you'll get a chance to tell him the truth, I'm sure he'll understand."

"He's just a friend mom, really." You assured. "He was the previous owner of this house and I think I made a mistake not to tell him about buying the house in grandad's name. Ruben thinks Johnny's is my husband."

"You think so?"

"Yes, now let's get ready for that BBQ."

Okay, you were a little excited for the BBQ. You loved spending time with your friends and leaving the city left you without no social life whatsoever. You needed stability and Johnny needed a proper introduction to the locals. But as you walked through the gate to Katarina and David's backyard, something caught your eye. A familiar face stood by the grill, flipping burgers with ease. It was Ruben.

"Well I'll be damned." David removed his cap at the sight of them.

"Y/N!" Someone exclaimed, making heads turn your way, including Ruben's. Katarina had been coming down the steps to the back porch when she spotted you. "David, come! I'd like for you to meet Y/N's family." She waved for her husband to get up off his seat. The two of then came towards you in a way that felt like you were getting attcked. Behind you you could hear your mother coming through the gates, little Johnny in her arms.

"David honey, this is Y/N's mother...".

"Tanya." Your mother smiled.

"Nice to meet you Tanya, I'm David."

"And guess who this is..." Katarina was eager to unhand Johnny from your mother, taking him into her own embrace. She was good with children, you could tell immediately.

"Well who's this little guy?" David said, poking out a finger to tickle Johnny's belly. His laughter echoed throughout the backyard.

"This is Johnny honey. Y/N's son."

A light lit up David's eyes. "Well, how old are you son?"

Johnny was a bit shy but managed show his age with his fingers.

"Now I bet you couldn't guess how old I am?"

Johnny bit his lip, but decided to show off all of his five fingers.

"Five!" David laughed. "That's right son, I'm five years old." David laughed so hard that he struggled to breath.

"Oh honey don't be such a fool." Katarina sighed. "Please take Tanya inside and help her fix herself a plate."

"With pleasure." He said, escorting your mother inside.

"I better check if anything needs a refill. She said, handing Johnny back to you. "Please help yourself to a drink."

As Katarina rushed inside she passed by Ruben who looked to be coming your way. The two exchange a few words, resulting in Ruben really coming your way.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Johnny hid his face in the crook of your neck. The giant shadow that Ruben casted upon you had frightened him a little.

"It's okay baby, it's just Ruben."

"How have you been?" He asked, mostly out of courtesy. Perhaps Katarina had made him come over and talk to you.

"Fine, I guess."

"Kat tells me your family is visiting."

"Yes, my mother is here."

"And who is this guy?" He smiled. Johnny had dared come out of his hiding place.

"This is Johnny Jr, my son."

Ruben looked taken aback but quickly composed himself. "Oh, so he's named after his father?" His gaze trailed somwere over your shoulder as if someone was about to walk through the backyard gates.

"No. He's named after his grandfather actually."

"I..." Ruben looked confused, struggling to put two and two together.

"I've been meaning to tell you." You said, rocking your body back and forth as Johnny was becoming heavy to carry.

"Tell me what?" Ruben asked.

"About Johnny, my grandad."

"Your grandfather's name is Johnny?" He frowned.

"And my son." You nodded.

"And your husband..."

You shook your head. "No. It's just me and him, me and Johnny."

Ruben was about to open his mouth and say somthing when Katarina was seen re-entering the backyard.

"We're out of potatosallad! Ruben I'm going to need you to run to the shop and buy me some more potatoes."

"Um...sure."

"Y/N, you go with him."

"W..what why?"

"Because we're out of juice. There's nothing else for Johnny to drink but water. You go with Ruben and help him pick out your son's favorite juice."

"Um...okay."

"Here, I'll take Johnny, let him take a nap inside."

"What are you..."

He had been drifting off in your arms without you noticing. As the two of them disappeared inside you had no other choice but to go with Ruben. You expected a quiet and awkward ride in his truck, but to your suprise the car ride didn't last two blocks.

Ruben made a sharp turn, parking his truck near a deserted grove.

"Ruben?" You asked expectantly, a bit shook form the bumpy ride.

"No." You sighed. "I'm not married. Johnny's father.... It's a complicated story."

"So you're not married?"

Ruben turned in his seat to look at you. He was picking up where you left off.

Ruben was looking at you with big eyes, almost demanding you to go on.

Your eyes diverged from his face to your hands. "I was a young nurse volontueering in a community in Colombia." You said, not so fond about bringing up memories of your past. "As political rebels started infiltrate the small town, the government put military forces in to stop them. It's how I met Johnny's father, he was patrolling near the hospital where I worked. One thing led to another and Johnny was born."

You looked up to see Ruben take in your words but the dent between his eyebrows told you that things weren't all clear for him.

"All you need to know..." You sighed. "...is that he's not involved. Like not at all. I don't even know where he is." You shrugged. He could be stationed in another town in Colombia, or he could've been killed by rebels a long time ago. You wouldn't know. "It's just me taking care of Johnny, it's aways been like that. Of course my grandparents were there for me during my pregnancy. Gosh, how I wished my grandad was here to see Johnny grow up." You trailed off, the past memories making you realize how much you've had to overcome. Ruben sat silent next to you. Until he wasn't.

"So when I kissed you..." He said, words uttured cautiously.

"Yes?"

You chuckled. "No Ruben, I didn't mind. I actually..."

"...you didn't mind?" He asked.

It was all he needed to hear. Ruben leaned over and did it again, placing a soft peck on your lips. As you parted you opened your eyes, only to find Ruben smiling at you.

"That was..."

"Y/N, I thought I...."

"Sshhh." You sushed him, his scruffy beard tickling the palm of your hand. "Just kiss me again."

You uncovered your hand from his mouth. Ruben scooted closer, unbuckling his seat belt. The two of you were making out within seconds of your lips colliding. Soft moans filled the narrow space in the car, with Ruben having you lay down in the passenger seat.

"Y/N, you must know....it's been awhile."

You could tell by how eager he was, his hands finding their way underneath your shirt and bra, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples.

"It's okay Ruben, I'm on birth control."

His breath was in your ear, running warm. You could tell how turned on he was by the way his erection pressed against your stomach. He was tugging at the bud of your zipper, pulling it down as to slip a hand down your pants.

You gasped.

"Fuck." He grunted, his fingertips feeling how swollen and wet you were for him.

"Ruben." You cried. For someone who hadn't been intimate for a while he sure knew how to tease you.

"Please." You begged.

He sat back to pull your jeans down your legs. Once they were off he got on top of you again, one hand unbeckling his belt. He pushed your panties aside and let his tip spread your folds. Once his cock was aligned with your entrance he eased into you with a satisfied groan.

"Fuck Y/N, you feel so good."

"Fuck, I'm sorry." He said, sitting up, regaining his composure.

Your walls clenched around him, not yet adjusted to his size. You arched your back as Ruben began thrusting his hips, bringing himself in and out of you in waves. The truck rocked with his movment and anyone passing by would know what was going on inside of it, but in that moment neither of you could care less.

Ruben came before you, his body collapsing on top of you. You lay like that for a minute, just holding onto each other, letting your breaths come down from the high.

"It's okay." You reaching for your pants. "We better get back before Katarina wonders where we've gone."

Ruben chuckled. "I think she already knows.

"What makes you think that?" You said, adjusting your hair in the trucks rareview mirror.

"Because... David and I helped Kat buy about ten kilos of potatoes the other day. There is no way one BBQ made her run out."

Ruben was right about the potatosallad. As you returned from the shop with Johnny's juice, everyone with a plate of food also had a side of potatosallad on it.

"Back from the shop I see." Katarina said, grinning from ear to ear. She, your mother and Johnny were seated together. "How did it go?"

"Wow, you're really strong!" Johnny exclaimed, looking up at Ruben with admiration.

"Great." Ruben smiled, he looked to you, a twinkle in his eye. He then looked down at the table, to Johnny, who was going off with his crayons. As a shadow was casted Johnny looked up from his coloring book, his big brown eyes wide with curiosity. "Hi!" he said, waving shyly at Ruben.

Ruben, who had been taken aback by the sudden introduction, forced a smile onto his face. "Hey there little guy! It's nice to meet you." Ruben tried to sound calm and confident. But as soon as he saw Johnny's tiny hand wrapped around his own large one, all of his doubts melted away.

Ruben laughed and ruffled Johnny's hair. "Well, I like to think so," he said. "But you know what? You're pretty strong too."

You were standing to the side, feeling your heart swell at the two of the interacting. The night would go on with Johnny never wanting to leave Ruben's side and with Ruben never letting him do so. Just like Katarina, he was a natural with kids, you could tell immediately.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

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tipsyleaf · 8 days

Note

I’m going to go insane if Tumblr scraps one of my ask’s again. Gonna reveal my identity at this point. ☹️ (You wish.)

BUT OH MY GOODNESS YES YES YES, A THIRD BABY IS POSSIBLE!!!

I personally feel like Violet would be around 13-15, and Cecilia 9-10. (You can adjust with the age gap etc.) So they’d be a little older now, barely teenagers now.

Of course, the pregnancy was an unexpected thing. Both you and Leon never thought the two of you would have another baby, but nonetheless, the two of you had to deal with the consequences of your horny actions. 🙄

Violet and Cecilia would absolutely hate the two of you at first. Big sisters? Hell no. They’d literally run out of the living room yelling and slam the door to their separate rooms in frustrations. But what could the two of you do? Just wait and let them get over it…

At first, it was such a weird thing to them…Seeing their mom with a belly…Ew. And how Leon would give you double the attention made them get the ick, they were already used to y’all acting like horny teenagers but oh my god.

But alas, as soon as they met their little baby brother, oh, it was like it was the greatest thing in the world! The two of them would constantly beg to hold him, fighting over who gets to unfreeze the milk from the fridge and make him a bottle.

They’d both play with him, volunteer to even take him off of your hands for the day. (Which never lasted because they regret it as soon as he has a stinky diaper.) The two would also very much criticize his outfit choices. Every single onesie and little outfit you put on him had to be approved by his big sisters.

I also feel like they’d come up to you in the middle of target with a bunch of baby toys and clothes saying that he’d absolutely love them, and you just had to sign and give in.

- Anon! 🎀

Tumblr has been a Cunt to me the past few days with asks. I'm about to delete my whole account if it doesn't get fixed (I'm being dramatic.)

Leon and his wife would even be shocked they could have babies still... Not unhappy but you'd look him dead in the eyes and tell him "I'm getting my tubes tied or you're getting a vasectomy. No more kids."

Violetta (12) would definitely want nothing to do with the baby at first. She's almost a teenager and her parents having another kid at their DECREPIT AGE?!

So Embarrassing 🙄

Cecilia (8), still very young and impressionable would probably just be following her sisters lead but secretly be excited to finally have some to boss around.

But Violet (being the older pain in the ass sister she is) would probably get to Lia and drill it into her head that middle kids get forgotten and oh nooo she's the middle child

Make her sister cry, get grounded and her phone taken away for that.

But once their mother starts showing, Lia comes around immediately. Cuddles up with mommy on the couch whenever she can just to be close to the baby. Violets still super hesitant and not happy about it. Especially every time her dad shows you affection and like... Bucket loads of affection.

He missed seeing you pregnant. That pretty glow you'd always exude even just existing in his presence. And your cute pregnant waddle! He could go on for hours how much he loves when you're pregnant. This is a completely new experience for Lia, Violet hardly remembers what happened when you were originally pregnant with Lia . She was way too young to remember.

Time comes around when you find out the babies sex, Leon fully preparing for a 3 for 3 on the princess counter.

It's a boy... He's devastated at first. He really wanted another girl. But you on the other hand are relieved. You wanted a little boy. Not that you don't love your daughters it just be nice to have a son too. Eventually he's okay, especially after you tell him this means you need to have more renovations done to the house so there's room for the new baby. That means a new room to make into a nursery, something they didn't get to do with Lia but this time around they will.

Closer to the due date you start going over names for the baby. Leon suggesting Marvin as a middle name, you know the context of it and accept it immediately. Everyone starts throwing names around, Violet staying quiet. Lia suggests calling him Puppy...

"That's not a name honey." You chuckle at her suggestion when Violet looks at Leon.

"What's your middle name Dad?"

"Scott." Violet looks between her parents, shrugging.

"Scott sounds good to me."

You and Leon look at each other and smile. Agreeing it's a good name.

Time comes around to have the baby. Violets still against the kid, Lia's bouncing off the walls excited to meet her baby brother. You give birth and the girls are allowed in the room finally.

Both girls look mostly like a good mixture of the two of you... Leon could never deny Scott as his son (he never would) because the kid looks exactly like him. Dusty Brown hair from his younger years, cute little nose, big blue eyes and a butter ball of a chunky baby. He's absolutely precious.

Lia gets help from Leon to hold him since she's still younger. Violet keeps her distance until she walks over to check on you and make sure you aren't too tuckered out. Leon basically traps Violet between a chair and her only escape, offering her to hold her brother if she sits down. She agrees just to get this over with.

She has little Scott in her arms. He looks up at her smiling with those big blue eyes... 3. 2. 1...

She's crying. Won't stop talking about how cute he is or how much she loves him already. You and Leon share a look before he tries taking the baby back.

"He needs skin to skin time with mommy." She whines, reluctantly handing him over.

After that day you basically have two live in nanny's. Both girls wanting to help.

Unless it's diaper related...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy

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infictionalwonderland · 1 year

Text

pairing: jj x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol & drugs, drunk reader, drunk jj, drunk everyone, sum floof, lots of suggestive content.. 😁, groping, PDA, CHAOSSs

Its was John B’s birthday.

Amazing, right? That’s what JJ Maybank had thought anyway—he’d been planning the birthday party of his best friend, with the help of his girlfriend, for a few days now and today was finally the day where everything came together. All the Pogues had done up the Chateau—cheap silver Christmas tinsel hung loosely from the wooden ceilings, wrapped (messily or otherwise) presents stacked in pyramid form on the coffee table. Blue, silver and purple balloons were scattered around, a tacky blue ‘happy birthday’ banner slapped against one of the walls. And alcohol, upon alcohol upon alcohol was lined up neatly in the small open plan kitchen.

The party had long since started up—the birthday boy himself having arrived about an hour and half ago with a giddy Sarah in tow (she had the initial task of keeping him distracted) and with a brief emotional moment for John, sop, the party had begun.

Chaos.

You’d all migrated outdoors now—taking some things from inside with you on your way; Pope had climbed up the tree, all on his own (you had a proud mom moment) and with the ukulele he’d nicked from Kie, he was playing shitty tunes while randomly shouting at the air.

John B lay in his hammock, a shitfaced grin at his lips and a purple cowboy hat hanging from his head, a day of the dead dead design etched onto his face with Sarah’s eyeliner. A bottle of half done Vodka encased in one of his hands. JJ was sat down on the long grass, back against the tree, he was wearing the Christmas tinsel from indoors around his neck and had tied another in a bow around his waist—he’d taken to crafting (or attempting to craft) little grass rings and bracelets from the grass he plucked off the ground and two beers rested in between his parted legs, the front of his lengthy blonde hair tugged into a tiny ponytail with a clear rubber band.

You girls, on the other hand, were all dancing your drunken hearts away—Rude boy by Rihanna was currently blaring from the speaker Kie had smartly brought with her and the free of you were living your absolute best life’s.

“I like the way you touch me there—“

All three of you sang out loudly, and Kiara grinned suddenly with beautiful mischief before she put soft hands to your bare waist and tugged you back fully against her body, hands caressing you up and down to empathise the point of the song—you giggled along with her actions, throwing your head back into her shoulder with feigned euphoria and gliding her hands across you body as you grinded back on her.

“I like the way you pull my hair—“

Sarah didn’t seem to plan on missing out of the fun, eagerly strutting you both and sliding in behind Kiara, leaving said girl sandwiched between you two. You were all giggling and to do as the song said—Kie parted you hair into quick pigtails before tugging on them jokingly: you titled you head back to look at her with a dopey grin, pressing back on her and sensually swaying your hips.

“Babe, if I don't feel it I ain't faking, no, no I like when you tell me kiss you here—“

Simultaneously, with the sung lyrics, you and Sarah turned your heads to face Kie and smacked loud kisses to her soft skin, leaving lip stains on both of her cheeks—you caught the blondes eyes over her shoulder as she bit onto her bottom lip with a mockingly lustful expression which made you cackle.

“I like when you tell me, ‘move it there’—“

With the lyrics, you turned yourself around so you were chest to chest with Kiara and you slid yourself down her body, moving your hips sensually to the music and running your hands down her body as she leant her head back on Sarah, grinding against the blonde while messing with your hair.

“So giddy up, time to giddy up You say you're a rude boy—“

As you shimmied back up gracefully, you winked at your best friend and toyed with a pretty curl for turning so your back was against her again—the three of you drunkenly singing along to the song.

When you all finally stopped dancing shortly after that, out of breath as you all laughed over seemingly nothing, your eyes finally landed back on the three boys—finding them all staring at you three already. John B was half hidden by the hammock, looking ready to hide his gaze at anytime, Pope was gaping with an evidently loose grip on the instrument in hand and your boyfriend simply stared at you, enamoured.

“I think we broke them.” Sarah loudly whispered.

The three of you launched into laughter but Kiara’s laughing paused as she took note of Pope’s grip on her ukulele.

“Pope you break that damn ukulele, I swear.” Kie immediately exclaimed with intoxicated obnoxiousness as she took into a weak sprint towards the tree, startling the boy so bad he did drop the ukulele and Kiara exclaimed in pure terror, barely managing to catch it in time.

“My baby.” She whispered, terrified, as she cradled her instrument.

You and Sarah happily entangled hands, skipping around in a circle briefly with soft giggles before towards your boyfriends, hands swinging back and forth as she muttered something about capybaras you didn’t catch.

“Hi.” JJ whispered, looking up at you like you were some goddess.

“Hi my beautiful boy.” You popped your lips together—lipgloss smacking sensually, drunk off your fucking tits, you were.

The glazed shine of love in his eyes immediately doubled, a sheepish heat to his sun kissed as yiu plopped yourself down next to him happily on the grass.

“Hey.” He whispered, again, dumbly.

You grinned at him in return, looking every bit of angel that he thought you were and as he continued to watch you with sprinkles of nothing but deviation in clear blue eyes, you positioned yourself away from the tree to lie down in the soft, green grass.

JJ allowed a drunken gasp to slip from his lips at your beauty in that moment—skin glowing magically under the shining moonlight, eyes crinkled in the corners from your wide toothed grin, hair like a makeshift halo amongst the long grass, shirt riding up slightly and revealing even more of your heavenly soft skin.

He didn’t waste a second, moving the beer away from him (save the alcohol, always) before literally leaping on top of you. Legs either side of your body, arms either side of your head and shark tooth necklace dangling just above your perfect face.

“M’ pretty girl.” JJ breathed out, smearing kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, nose and you erupted into little giggles of infectious laughter underneath him. “The prettiest girl. ‘Love you so much, baby. Never gonna stop, promise. Ever.”

“Woah.” You gasped, intoxicated and giddy. “You like my dancing that much?”

JJ pouted, a disappointed grumbled moving from his frowning lips and he pinched the plush skin of your thigh gently—soothing it over immediately as you yelped out.

“Relax, Jesus, people these days.” You pouted. “I love you—J, never gon’ stop either. You’re mine now, no backing out.”

“I would never.” He frowned sternly.

You gazed up at him wordlessly, love glinting in your colourful irises and he practically melted from his place above you, smushing himself so close to you his shark tooth necklace fell softly in your cleavage—a feeling that made you giggle.

When JJ caught your wandering gaze saunter over to his beer, he grinned knowingly. The blonde took his bottle of beer with a fond sigh and you smiled up at him innocently—rolling his eyes, he pulled down your bottom lip expectantly and you made an obedient ‘o’ shape which had him humming in approval before he put his beer to your lips, soothing his hands through your hair as you drunk.

“Alcoholic.” He named, narrowing his eyes teasingly as he moved the drink away from you again.

“Pothead.”

The both of you giggled, heads cloudy and lost in thoughts of only each other as the night air cooled sun kissed skin and sounds of Work Out by J.Cole played absently in the background.

“It’s my birthday!” John B suddenly jolted up from his place in the hammock and shouted out.

“Go shawty it’s your birthday—“

“We gon’ party like it’s your birthday—“

“We gon’ sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday—“

“And you know we don’t give a fuck it’s not your birthday!”

“It is my birthday though.” You barely heard John B softly mutter as JJ suddenly captured your lips with his own in a searing kiss, his hands wrapped around your thighs and dug into the meaty flesh, the kiss tasted of beer, weed and your strawberry lipgloss and it was beyond perfect. You hummed into it, fingers tangling into her blond floppy hair, quietly whining in disappointment as he pulled away—your bottom lip between his teeth before he let go.

He squeezed onto your thighs again, moving to slot one of his legs in between them—the cold of his rings made you gasp slightly, a sound that had him grinning.

“You know. .when it’s your birthday, imma throw you your own little party,” JJ whispered it like a scared secret, his scent, eager yet loving touches and rough voice swallowing you whole. “But—but it’s not gonna be a shitty little bash, nah, baby, it’s gonna be all you could want. Birthday of your dreams, for you, my dream girl.”

“Dream girl, huh?”

“Dreamiest.” He hummed drunkenly, peppering sloppy kisses to your cheek before digging his face in the crook of your neck and softly inhaling your scent. “Got an early present for you, dream girl.”

You giggled softly, full of drunk aloofness, as he learned over you and his hair (scented with your coconut shampoo) fell partly into your face.

“Here.” The beautiful face of your boyfriend was once again inches apart from your own and you smiled in content. At your grin, his own appeared and suddenly small grass rings were being thrusted into your face—they were done kinda tackily, small specks of white flowers from the warm green grass poking through uneven strands carefully wrapped together without any true skill. To you they were perfection, and what made them even more perfect was your boyfriends grinning face, sun kissed skin slightly flushed.

“For me?”

As you attempted to reach for one, he caught your wrist softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm—humming at the smell of you and the softness to your skin. He carefully put one of the rings (the one with the most flowers) onto your ring finger, shyly peeking up at you for your reaction but you were beaming so heard small dimples erupted and he quickly continued on, now grinning himself.

“I—I know it’s not like, the best, but eventually imma get a pretty, dream ring for my prettiest, dreamiest girl.”

“J.” You called, softly, and he looked up through his lashes, heart pumping aggressively in his chest. “Love you, so much.”

A grin spread across his cheeks in an instant as he leaned down to connect your lips, feeling the slightly itchy feel of the grass ring brushing against his skin as your fingers combed from his hair, his smile stretched wider. His dream girl was truly the dream.

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #outerbanks smut #outerbanks #obx #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #jj x you #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n

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gloomysoup · 6 months

Text

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating)

hello hello i bring you some actual writing for once how exciting !! this is based off this post by @acowardinmordor once i saw it my brain just wouldn't stop until i fleshed it out into something relatively coherent so here it is !! if this does well i'll probably put it up on ao3 later

ao3 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

cw: drugs, illusions to drug abuse and overdose, minor character death, illusions to major character death (probably temporary), panic attack, medical crisis

When Eddie was eight years old, he found his mother on the bathroom floor, a half-empty bottle of pills in her hand. She wouldn't wake up. Eddie hadn't known what to do, so he wandered across the way to his favorite neighbor’s house. Mrs. Westbrooke was an older widow who'd lived in the same house for decades. Once Eddie had told her his mom wasn't waking up, she called for an ambulance. The paramedics came and took his mom to the hospital. Eddie stayed with Mrs. Westbrooke until Wayne came to pick him up.

That was the first time he spent more than a night or two at Wayne’s. It was about a week and a half before he was taken back home. The same thing happened a year and a half later. His mom passed out on the kitchen floor that time, and it was a baggie of colorful pills instead. Something she'd gotten from a friend of his dad. Something his dad had gotten her hooked on several months prior, when the doctor stopped writing her prescriptions. He was with Wayne for three days before his dad came to get him. Two weeks later, he was on Wayne’s doorstep with a single bag of everything he owned, his dad behind bars. He'd been with Wayne ever since.

His uncle had made a promise to him that first night, when Eddie finally realized this was it. He was with Wayne for good. There was no going back. He'd promised Eddie none of that would ever happen again. He didn't have to worry about Wayne disappearing in the flashing red and blue lights. He wouldn't find him half-dead on the floor of their trailer. He was safe. Eddie believed him. For years, Eddie believed Wayne was right. He'd never once let Eddie down before. He was always there. He took him in when he had nowhere else to go.

Too bad Wayne couldn't have predicted this.

New York City. June 1994. A sold out show at Madison Square Garden. Eddie on stage with his best friends. His boyfriend watching from the wings. How it was always supposed to go.

The air was fizzing with energy. The crowd was screaming so loud. Eddie’s heart was pounding, blood rushing with adrenaline. He kissed Steve hard in the green room, a promise between them of more to come. Steve wished him luck, and it was time to take the stage. They'd finally made it. All their hard work was paying off.

About halfway through the set, Steve disappeared. Eddie wasn't worried. He didn't know he should've been. When they came off stage, the crowd was still screaming, and the band was riding the high of a great show. It felt amazing. It was more than they ever dreamed, growing up the way they did in a town like Hawkins. Eddie was grinning so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Anyone seen Steve?” he asked, handing off his guitar and starting to pull off his mic pack.

“Not for a while,” one of the techs responded. “Said something about the bathroom, I think, but he never came back.”

Eddie frowned, a little confused. It wasn't like Steve not to be there when he came off stage.

“He's probably just waiting in the green room, Ed,” Gareth said, knocking his shoulder against Eddie’s as he passed. “I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.”

Eddie didn't hang around with the others. He headed straight for the green room, hoping Gareth was right. There was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The same feeling he got all those years ago, right before he opened the front door to find his mom on the kitchen floor. It ate away at his insides, churning deep and uncomfortably. His heart was racing, and it was no longer due to the high energy of the show. Panic was coursing through his veins.

His hand hesitated on the door to the green room. He felt eight years old again, knocking on Mrs. Westbrooke’s door when he couldn't wake his mom up to make dinner. His hands trembled as he grabbed the knob and twisted, easing it open. The room was empty. Eddie’s heart plummeted. Steve wasn't there. Steve was missing, and Eddie had this horrible feeling spreading through his entire body. He still wasn't sure why the feeling was there; he had never once had a reason to believe Steve was doing anything harder than weed. It was still there, though, and Eddie was panicking. He needed to find Steve. He had to make sure Steve was okay.

He headed for the bathroom next. The techs had said he went to the bathroom. Maybe something happened. Maybe he hit his head and couldn't remember where he was. The feeling said otherwise, but Eddie refused to believe it. He was overreacting. Steve was fine.

He was lying to himself.

The bathroom door was unlocked. He pushed it open, knocking. “Steve? Are you in here?” he called. He could barely hear through the rush of blood in his ears. He stepped inside, and he was sure his heart stopped beating altogether.

Just like that, he was ten years old. His mother was dead on the kitchen floor. Mrs. Westbrooke held him on her front porch as his mother was taken away in a blur of red and blue. He was ten years old, watching Wayne’s old pickup coming up the drive. Through the pounding in his ears, he could faintly hear the gravel crunching under the tires of the red truck. An odd comfort. A reminder of safety. What he wouldn't give to have that again right now.

“She wouldn't wake up, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said softly, his voice trembling as a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

Wayne bent down, his old knees creaking, and pulled Eddie into a tight hug. “I'm sorry, Ed.” He squeezed tighter, letting Eddie bury his face in his worn flannel. “You're gonna come stay with me for a couple days, ‘til everythin' gets settled.”

“I don't got any clothes, Wayne.”

“Don't you worry ‘bout that right now. We’ll figure somethin’ out. I promise it’ll be alright.”

Steve was lying on the bathroom floor. Eddie couldn't breathe. There was a bag of colorful pills, so similar to the ones his mom had taken, sitting on the sink counter. Next to it was a line of white powder. Eddie’s vision blurred with tears as he dropped next to Steve, shaking his shoulder.

“Steve? Steve, baby, wake up. Please wake up.” Eddie was gasping for breath through his sobs as he tried to shake Steve awake. It wasn't working. He wasn't waking up.

“Mama? Mama, come on. You gotta get up.” Eddie crouched down next to her, shaking her shoulder. “Mama, please. You can't sleep on the floor.”

“Please, baby,” Eddie begged, pulling Steve into his arms on the bathroom floor. “Please. I can't lose you too, Steve. You gotta wake up. Please wake up.”

“Eddie? Are you okay?” The bathroom door opened. Jeff walked in, stopping dead in the doorway. It only took a few seconds for him to gain his bearings and jump into action. He crossed quickly, bending down next to them. “Shit. What happened?”

“I- he- he won't wake up, Jeff,” Eddie sobbed, still holding Steve tightly.

“Okay. Okay, let's not panic yet.”

The cracks in Jeff’s voice were not comforting. Eddie was already panicking. He'd been panicking since the feeling started to solidify, since he didn't find Steve in the green room. Eddie was well past not panicking. Eddie was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

Jeff glanced around, took notice of the drugs on the counter, the way Steve’s chest wasn't rising or falling. He wasn't breathing at all. Jeff stood up quickly. “I'll go get help. I’ll be right back, Eddie. It's gonna be okay.”

Jeff ran from the bathroom. Eddie could barely hear the slap on his shoes on the linoleum in the hall over the sound of his own sobbing, the blood still rushing in his ears despite it feeling like his heart had stopped beating. He held Steve against his chest, burying his face in his hair. He silently begged the universe not to take Steve away from him. He wouldn't be able to handle losing anyone else. He needed Steve.

Eddie wasn't sure how much time passed before Jeff came back, paramedics in tow. All he knew was that Steve wasn't waking up. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he begged and cried, Steve wasn't waking up. His skin was pale and starting to grow cold. There's remnants of white powder on his nose. The paramedics try to move him from Eddie’s arms, but Eddie can't let go. He can't lose Steve.

“Eddie, you have to let go,” Jeff said gently, trying to tug Eddie’s arms off Steve.

Eddie shook his head. “I- I can't- can't, Jeff,” he forced out between sobs.

“The paramedics are gonna help him, Ed, but they can't do that unless you let go.”

“The paramedics are gonna try to help your mama, honey,” Mrs. Westbrooke promised eight-year-old Eddie as they watched from her porch. “Everything'll be alright, don't you worry.”

He missed Mrs. Westbrooke. He wished she were here to hold him, tell him he would be okay. He wanted to sit on her porch in the creaky rocking chairs, eating fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. He wanted safety and familiarity. It'd been a hard day for Eddie when the old woman died. He'd give anything to be back there with her, instead of here in this living nightmare.

Eddie reluctantly released Steve. The paramedics moved him to lie flat on the floor. Jeff’s arms wrapped around Eddie as he continued to sob. Eddie’s hands grasped at Jeff’s shirt. It was clean and dry. He must've changed after the show. Before he found them. The paramedics took Steve away, but Eddie couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. His whole body shook. He couldn't stop sobbing. Over and over, all he could think was that he felt like a little kid again, back when everything was falling apart. Steve was going to die, just like his mom did.

It was all Eddie’s fault.

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severelystrangewriter · 7 months

Text

Text Messages (Flufftober 2023 Day 9)

Pairing: kenma kozume x female reader

WC: 909

Warnings: a little cursing

Summary: a wrong number situation leads you to become friends with kenma

Note: i literally had NO clue what to do for this one, but i think i'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late at night and Kenma was in the middle of a somewhat boring video game when his phone dinged, alerting him of a message. He paused to check, figuring it was Kuroo, but furrowed his brows at the unknown number. He read the message curiously and there was a picture attached.

Unknown: I completed the cosplay! How do I look? :)

Kenma blinked in surprise at the picture you sent. You looked good, really good. You were dressed in a sailor moon cosplay. Your makeup was perfect and your outfit looked like it was taken straight from the anime.

There was only one teensy problem.

He had no clue who the hell you were.

Kenma: the cosplay looks great, but um… do i know u?

Unknown: It’s (Y/n)? Who is this?

Kenma: my name is kenma

He sent a selfie as proof.

(Y/n): …

(Y/n): Well that’s embarrassing. I guess I put in the wrong number

Kenma: sorry

He expected the conversation to be over with. But you surprised him when you sent another message.

(Y/n): Weird question, wanna still chat? I’m bored >~<

He blinked twice, then hummed in thought before typing out his reply.

Kenma: i don’t see why not

Over time, texting you became a daily occurrence. You both talked about anything and everything- your lives, your dreams, games, all of it. You sent each other memes and pictures of cats and he found himself looking forward to your messages.

He found out you were a second-year like him, and you went to Karasuno. In fact, you were involved as a manager of the boys’ volleyball team. He told you he was a setter for Nekoma and you thought that was pretty cool, even joking that maybe one day your teams will play against each other.

“Hey, can I borrow your phone? Mine’s dead,” Kuroo said one day before practice.

“Yeah sure,” Kenma handed over his phone and continued playing his nintendo.

Kuroo thanked him and it fell silent as he sent the text to his mom telling him to use Kenma’s phone to get ahold of him. As he waited for a response, Kenma’s phone dinged and a notification popped up that caused Kuroo to furrow his brows.

“Who’s (Y/n)?”

Kenma nearly dropped his nintendo upon hearing your name. With eyes wide, he reached over to snatch the phone back, but Kuroo was too quick and moved away from his friend. He hadn’t told Kuroo about you for the very specific reason of not wanting to be teased.

“Hey she’s pretty cute,” He commented, clicking the picture you sent.

“Give that back!” Kenma shouted.

Not expecting such a visceral reaction out of his friend, Kuroo connected the dots rather quickly, “Oh my god, do you have a secret girlfriend?”

This caught the rest of the team’s attention rather quickly. And they watched as Kenma struggled with Kuroo over the cell. Kenma’s face grew hot at the accusation.

“N-no! It’s not like that!” He vehemently denied.

“Why are you getting so defensive then?” Kuroo asked with a teasing smirk, “You like her~!”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kenma Kozume has a crush!” Yaku called out.

“Shut up!” Kenma hissed, finally succeeding in taking the phone back.

His cheeks continued to burn when he saw the picture: it was just you showing off your makeup but you looked so cute as always that it made his heart skip a beat.

“Woah dude, your girlfriend’s hot,” Yamamoto commented, looking over his short friend’s shoulder.

“It’s not like that!” Kenma repeated, clutching the phone to his chest to hide it.

“You mean she’s single?” Yamamoto asked with a hopeful tone.

Kenma glared at his teammate, who shrunk away from the harsh look.

“Nevermind.”

Just then, Coach Nekomata was calling for their attention, telling them that the practice was starting.

~~~

(Y/n): ARE YOU GONNA BE AT THE CAMP

Kenma: why are you yelling

(Y/n): BECAUSE I’M EXCTIED

(Y/n): *ECXITED

Kenma: you still spelled it wrong

(Y/n): FUCK

You sent several crying emojis and he smiled at your overdramatic response.

Kenma: to answer your previous question, yeah i’ll be there :)

Kenma: we’re on our way now

(Y/n): YAY

Kenma chuckled and continued to text you.

“Let me guess, your precious (Y/n)?” Kuroo’s teasing voice brought Kenma out of his thoughts as he was nudged lightly by his friend.

Kenma rolled his eyes, but he nodded anyway, “Uh-huh.”

“So when are we going to get to meet her?” Kuroo questioned.

“She’s going to be at the practice game,” Kenma explained quietly, “She’s one of their managers.”

“Really?” Kuroo’s eyes lit up, “You must be excited then.”

Kenma bit his lip and looked out the window to avoid his friend’s gaze. He had to admit that he was pretty excited, but he was also getting nervous. It would be the first time he would be seeing you in person, and the thought was nerve-wracking. Would you guys click like you do through a screen? What would happen if you didn’t? Would you stop talking to him?

Kuroo picked up on Kenma’s growing stress.

“Relax, it’ll be fun,” He ruffled Kenma’s hair affectionately, ultimately putting a stop to all the worrying thoughts.

“Yeah,” Kenma agreed in that soft tone of his.

He continued to gaze out the window, wondering about you. And he wondered if you were thinking about him too.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma kozume fluff #kenma kozume x reader #x reader #kozume kenma x reader #fanfiction #flufftober #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu #kace writes

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separatist-apologist · 2 months

Text

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3

Five years earlier:

She wasn’t used to Georgia’s humidity.

Nesta never wanted to get used to it. Standing just outside the little white house that now belonged to her, Nesta wiped sweat from the back of her neck. The town was small—no more than a couple thousand people, if that. No big buildings, no major downtown, and worst of all, no Chinese food. Not unless she wanted to creep closer to Atlanta and given that Nesta’s car was a piece of rusting junk built a full decade before she was born, she doubted she’d make it.

So much for being a hot shot lawyer.

Nesta dumped her bag just inside the white picket fence, ignoring the peeling paint and splintering wood. It was the kind of place Elain would have thrived in. With a sigh, Nesta turned her back entirely on the overgrown yard and began walking along the only road in the town to the center—aptly named Main Street.

There was practically no one out. A few older woman walked with looped arms down the sidewalks while a harried mother pushing a stroller made her way toward the only grocery store. Nesta made her way toward the marble carved library, taking the steps one at a time despite the unrelenting sun overhead.

The air inside was ice cold and empty save of two women who were quietly talking to each other. One of them—the red head—clearly worked there given she was behind the desk. The other sat perched on the counter, a book in her lap. They had been clearly talking with some animation though now that Nesta had intruded, the pair stared with wary suspicion.

Nesta hadn’t come to make friends. Lifting her chin with all the haughtiness her mother had instilled in her, Nesta marched toward the shelves lined with fantasy and romance and began reading the jackets.

She needed a distraction. All she could think about lately was what would happen if Rhysand ever found them. Surely he was irate…he’d be out for blood. They’d flat out lied, pointing the finger straight at the notorious mafioso and the feds, in their eagerness to put him away, had overlooked all the evidence suggesting otherwise.

But Rhysand would know.

And Nesta wanted to forget him. Mobsters lived short lives, besides—in a year, he might be dead and the whole thing over. She could keep herself busy for that long. So long as the library kept books on the shelves, Nesta could find something to do.

She brought them to the front desk where the red head and the dark haired woman waited. “Library card?” The woman’s name tag read Gwyn.

“No,” Nesta said, fishing out her new drivers license. Agnes Smith. Sure. That sounded real. “Here.”

Gwyn eyed it for a moment. “You don’t look like an Agnes.”

“Tell that to my mom.”

Gwyn began typing on her computer, glancing at Nesta’s ID. “Emerie,” the dark skinned, dark haired woman said with a friendlier smile. “I think you look like an Agnes.” Gwyn rolled her eyes.

“You should come by the general store,” Emerie added, glancing at the ID for Nesta’s address. “You moved into the old Brandon house.”

“Grizzly murder happened there,” Gwyn said seriously.

“Did not. He died of all old age,” Emerie said quickly. “It’s been run down for a while. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“Do you like women?” Gwyn asked suddenly and bluntly.

Taken aback, Nesta said, “Um…not really—romantically, anyway.”

Emerie sighed. “It was worth a shot.”

Nesta almost blurted out that she’d still take friends before she thought better of it. No need to be defensive or obsessive. “Where is everyone today?”

“It’s ten am,” Gwyn said.

“They’re at church,” Emerie replied when it was clear Nesta didn’t understand.

“But not you?” Nesta questioned.

Gwyn handed her ID back, along with a white library card bearing her pretend name. “We aren’t welcome.”

“Why?”

Emerie grimaced while Gwyn scanned Nesta’s book. “They think I’m a homewrecker…and Emerie likes women. Openly.”

“Fuck them,” Nesta said without thinking. It was the first smile she’d seen from Gwyn—a small, half formed thing, but a smile all the same. “We should start our own religion.”

“That sounds like blasphemy,” Emerie teased.

“It sounds like witchcraft,” Gwyn added, pushing Nesta’s stack of books toward her. “I’m in.”

Which was how Nesta found herself hosting brunch that Sunday with two strangers in a house that didn’t belong to her.

PRESENT:

“Who is that?” Emerie asked, sitting on Nesta’s front porch holding a sweating glass of iced tea.

“He’s not local at all,” Gwyn agreed, lowering her sunglasses to take a look at the tall, muscular man making his way toward Nesta’s gate. Wearing mirrored shades and a suit that was bursting at the seams, he looked like he was playing dress up as a cop.

His dark, wavy hair half pulled in a bun didn’t seem regulation, for one. But something about him seemed off somehow.

“He one of yours?” Gwyn questioned. Nesta had long since betrayed the secrecy she’d been sworn to, telling her friends everything but the most critical piece of truth in order to protect Feyre.

Nesta scratched her ear. No, this man was definitely not one of hers.

“Want us to stay?” Gwyn asked, likely thinking about the shotgun mounted in the back of her pick-up truck.

“I can handle him,” Nesta assured them. Gwyn and Emerie stood, leaving behind their cups to slip from the yard. Gwyn nodded at the man once, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. That left Nesta standing at the top of her porch steps wearing a butter yellow sundress, arms crossed over her chest.

“Ma’am,” he the man began as he approached, his expression unreadable. She waited, watching as he took off his sunglasses only for recognition to slam into her. Oh. She knew this man from pictures. “My name is Cassian.”

Rhysands right hand man. Nesta didn’t move, unwilling to betray she knew who he was. “What can I do for you, Cassian?”

Not even a fake name? Was he that confident she’d never done one google search? He had a mugshot, had appeared in the papers just enough times for Nesta to recognize him. They called him The Lord of Bloodshed thanks to his rumored job of handling the things Rhysand didn’t want staining his hands or his conscience.

And that man was standing at the bottom of her steps, armed just beneath his suit jacket.

“I’m here on behalf of your case,” he said like a pretty liar.

“Oh? Has something happened?”

“An indictment is coming. I’m to escort you back home once Rhysand has been charged.”

Liar.

Still, there was no reason to call him out on it. If Rhysand had found her, he must be still looking for her sisters. She didn’t believe for a minute he’d found Feyre—his bruiser would have pointed his gun at her by way of greeting had he. No, they were monitoring her.

And Nesta could watch them right back.

So she smiled, hoping she seemed innocent and sweet. “What a relief,” she lied, stepping to the side so he could come up. “I was starting to think I’d be trapped here forever.”

“Can I come inside?” Cassian asked, looking around her immaculate yard with interest. “It’s hot out here.”

“Better get used to that,” Nesta said, pulling open the screen door so Cassian could get the lay of the land. “Are you staying here?”

“If you don’t mind. The hotel is…”

Roach filled, she knew. People still went, content to carry out their clandestine affairs in filth so long as no one ever found out.

“I have a spare room,” Nesta told him. Cassian turned back for his own car—a brand new jeep that was laughably out of place in her little neighborhood. He returned with two bags slung over his broad shoulders, eyes hidden behind his glasses. The sun hit the golden brown of his skin, making it seem as if he glowed and tragically, Nesta thought he was a good looking man.

He’d kill her if she wasn’t careful…but attractive, all the same.

Nesta showed him to the smaller room she kept made up just in case Gwyn or Emerie wanted to stay the night, thinking the full sized bed didn’t seem big enough for this man. He had to duck beneath the doorway, putting him well over six foot three—maybe six six? He made Nesta, who stood tall at five nine, feel dainty by comparison.

“Should I call you Cassian, or…?”

“Cassian is fine,” he replied, sunglasses resting atop his head. “This is perfect, by the way. I promise you’ll barely know I exist.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nesta said in a flirty voice as she eyed him. “I think it would be hard not to notice you.” He grinned, unaware that a real agent would have shut her down in seconds. “Well, Miss Agnes, I’ll do my best to keep out of your hair.”

Nesta offered him another smile, mind racing. If she survived tonight she assumed she’d survive as long as he wanted her to—and as long as she didn’t admit she knew what he was. That meant keeping it from Gwyn and Emerie, who wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from treating him like a criminal.

He thought she was prey, but Nesta Archeron was a survivor. A predator, just like this man. And she had lived in Georgia for five years—she had guns hidden all over the house. He didn’t need to know any of that, though. Nesta waited while he unpacked some of his things and peeked around her little house, mostly quiet as he cased her. Sitting on her sofa beneath a ceiling fan moving at top speed, Nesta heard him push open the back door and walk through the yard where she assumed he was testing the gate.

He messed with windows when he returned, pushing back curtains to peer out into the street. “You’re wide open out here,” he finally said with a frown on his pretty face. And he was pretty—sculpted and rough in a way that was hard to ignore. Nesta found herself noticing the green in his hazel eyes and the way stubble clung to his strong jaw. A slit cut through his eyebrow while faint scars littered his jaw and hands, betraying a man who knew his way around a fight.

He was fooling no one but himself.

“This is where you put me,” she reminded him, wondering if he understood what she was really saying.

“Maybe we’ll keep the curtains closed,” Cassian said, as if Nesta didn’t do that anyway. The sun was unforgiving and the only way to survive swampy summers was to try and keep things shady and cool.

“Do you want to take off your jacket?”

“I want to take everything off,” he admitted, shrugging out of what she had to assume was stolen. “Even my own skin.”

“That’s how I felt when I first got here,” she told him. He’d look back on all this and remember—he’d realize she knew the moment he stepped onto her lawn. “You get used to it.”

She was going to kill him, she realized. The knowledge slammed into Nesta’s chest violently, paralyzing her for a moment. She’d never killed anyone…but at some point she’d have to kill this man before he killed her. Cassian, for his part, was unaware of the slant of her thoughts. He must have already known when he came down that he planned to kill her just as soon as he was given the order. She doubted he intended to take her home…and if he did, it would be under duress.

That was future Nesta’s problem, though. For now, all she had to do was stay one step ahead of him. And that meant pretending like she believed every word coming out of his mouth and ignored all the obvious signs that he was a liar.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“Starving,” Cassian agreed. He vanished into the room she’d given him, leaving Nesta enough time to try and steady her nervous hands. By the time Cassian returned, Nesta was slicing up meat for the grill outside. There was absolutely no way she was turning on her oven.

“Can I help you with that?”

Instinct demanded she say no. She didn’t want Cassian anywhere near lighter fluid, for one. He looked so earnest and she was pretending, so Nesta nodded. “I haven’t seasoned it yet.”

“Leave it to me,” Cassian said with an easy smile. And she did, watching him from the corner of her eye while he seasoned her meat and vegetables. He vanished out the back door and when he returned, sweat glistened over his face. Nesta found herself standing there for a moment, staring as he pulled the rest of his hair off his face, biceps straining against the cuff of his t-shirts.

Cassian was heavily tattooed with black ink that crawled over his arms and up his neck, broken only by the sweaty shirt he wore.

“Why do people live like this?” Cassian asked, wiping his brow on his sleeve. “It’s horrible.”

“I keep saying it,” she replied honestly. “I would have preferred a colder climate.”

“Next time,” Cassian grumbled. “What are you doing now?”

“Cutting up fruit. Want some?”

Cassian picked a blueberry out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “How do you spend your time, anyway?”

“I’m the town lawyer,” Nesta informed him. “I work in a little office down on Main Street.”

“And when you’re not working?”

She shrugged. “I have friends…but I mostly read.”

He glanced toward her shelves of books in the living room, visible from the hall connecting the two. “Anything interesting?”

“Take a look,” was all Nesta could think to respond. Cassian didn’t take her up on her offer, turning instead to go check on the grilling meat. Had she not known who he was, Nesta might have thought the awkward environment was just because a stranger had invaded her space.

It felt almost normal.

Almost.

Because Nesta couldn’t forget a killer was sitting across from her, his hands soaked in blood. She kept coming back to it as they ate in relative silence. Why had Rhysand sent him here? What did he want with her? Nesta needed to figure it out.

And figure it out fast.

CASSIAN:

Nesta Archeron was beautiful.

Cassian hadn’t expected it. He’d seen a picture of Feyre only once and had kind of imposed her face on all three Archerons. Walking up to her house had been a surreal experience. For one, all Cassian could see was her tits pressed against the neckline of that sundress she wore. Holy fucking Christ, but Nesta’s body was something out of his most depraved fantasies.

But her eyes were something else. Icy blue and calculated, it was no surprise Nesta had survived five years out mostly on her own. Did she even know her sisters were guarded by federal agents while she was left to fend for herself?

It irked Cassian. Sure, he was grateful he’d been able to gain access to her life so easily, but surely someone was keeping their eyes on this woman? So the likes of him couldn’t just stroll into her home and do whatever he liked with her?

But after two days living with Nesta, Cassian learned that no one seemed to care if she lived or died. Which was just as well—because he was starting to care. Just a little, he told himself that second night as he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling fan.

His only job was to get her back to Rhysand in one piece once he’d tracked down Feyre and married her. Nesta wouldn’t even know until it was all too late and the feds would lose their pathetic case.

And then Cassian could go back to his regular life in a place that wasn’t drenched in humidity. How did anyone sleep? Even with Nesta’s air conditioner going at full blast, Cassian found himself shucking off his shirt and kicking the sheets to the floor in a desperate attempt at sleep.

Thinking the living room might be cooler, Cassian dragged his blanket with him to the couch where he found Nesta, half hidden in the dark with a piece of toast in her hand.

Her little night dress was enough to empty out his mind. Why was she so hot? Cassian could see every curve of her perfect body beneath the silken blue fabric and her hair was loose around her shoulders rather than braided in a crown atop her head.

He wanted to lick the salt off her skin.

He wanted to lick a lot of things, actually.

Cassian was fairly certain federal agents weren’t supposed to have sex with their charges—even if Rhysand was certain Vanserra had something going on with the middle Archeron. Cassian wasn’t anything close to a cop and fucking was his favorite thing to do.

“I ah..” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper aware that all he wore was a pair of loose shorts. Nesta was looking only at his face with a grim determination—as if she found it very difficult to do so.

You can look at any part of me you like.

Having sex with her would certainly pass the time.

“It’s hot,” Nesta said, flipping on a lamp on the side table. “I keep meaning to get someone out here to look at my AC, but…”

“I’ll look at it,” Cassian promised. “Before the sun comes up.”

“You’re handy?”

He was, actually. “I grew up with a single mom,” he said, flashing her a smile before making his way to the sofa. “We didn’t have a lot of money, so I learned how to do repairs.” Nesta tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Unwilling to give her a reason to banish him, Cassian made a show of fluffing the couch cushions before stretching himself out.

“My shower doesn’t have hot water,” she finally told him.

Cassian grinned in the dark. “I can take a look at that, too.”

“I would appreciate it,” Nesta replied.

“Why don’t you make me a list? I’ve got nothing else to do all day and I feel like a freeloader sitting on your couch.”

That was true. Cassian was used to staying busy and suddenly he had nothing but downtime. It was tempting to go to the library and find his own books to read and treat the entire thing like a vacation. This would help build trust between them, he rationalized.

And Cassian liked having something to do. He liked being useful to people.

“I could do that,” Nesta said, still standing in his line of sight. Even in the dark, Cassian could see her nipples pointed through the fabric. He wanted to touch them.

“I’m here to help,” Cassian reminded her.

“Of course,” she said, her tone unreadable to him.

He nearly asked if she wanted to join him. It was on the tip of his tongue, but Nesta beat him to speaking, adding, “Well. Sleep well, Cassian.”

“You too,” he said, disappointment ribboning through him. It was absurd to think a woman like Nesta Archeron was going to crawl in his dirtbag lap.

Still, Cassian could dream. And he did, waking with a throbbing erection he had to discreetly handle in the freezing cold shower. Cassian hadn’t noticed it wasn’t hot given the air was miserable and he didn’t want to take a boiling shower for once. He could hear Nesta in her room listening to music, up with dawn just like he was.

He found tools out in her garden shed, unused and rusty. They’d likely belonged to the previous tenant, whoever they’d been. Still, they worked well enough for Cassian’s purposes. What she needed was an entirely new unit. Cassian guessed the old one was over a decade long and judging from the rattling, it was on its final legs.

He had money. A lot of money. Would she believe him if he told her the agency had decided to replace it? Nesta didn’t strike him as particularly stupid—if they’d never helped her before, she might not believe they’d help her now. He couldn’t live the way they had been, though, which was how Cassian found himself on the phone with the local repairman giving out his credit card details over the phone.

Nesta was gone by the time Cassian came back into the house, drenched in sweat and slightly sunburned on the tops of his arms. It was a relief to get into the basement and work on the water heater, and by the time Cassian finished, the service guys were there to replace Nesta’s air conditioner. It required them to turn the air off which was actual hell, though once it was back up, Cassian felt instant relief.

Nesta returned with a scowl on her face, dressed in a pencil skirt that made Cassian’s mouth dry out. How had Archeron managed to create her? Cassian had met him—he was nothing special. An unremarkable man in every way imaginable, including his appearance.

Nesta could have modeled. Could have had her face on billboards, her body in magazines. Had he met her back home, he knew he’d have dogged her steps hoping for just a look in his direction.

“Any news?” Nesta asked, sliding her keys and purse onto a side table. Cassian watched her kick off her heels and turn her face upwards toward the vents blowing cold air.

“Nope,” he said. What would Rhys do if he kept her here for a year? Kick his ass, likely. “Rough day?”

Holding up a cloth shopping bag, Nesta nodded her head while Cassian rose to take it from her. Inside he found an assortment of peppers, onions, and a rather nice steak he assumed she wanted to grill. Cassian had never grilled before he met her and found that he rather liked it. In fact, he liked the whole little game he was playing. Pretending to be the sort of man who had a house and a wife and a barbeque suited him.

In another life, Cassian would have thrived.

“I’m working on another divorce and her soon to be ex stopped by to tell me what he thought about me.”

“I hope it was to tell you you’re beautiful,” Cassian replied without thinking as he peeled stickers from the vegetables.

“No it wasn’t,” Nesta replied, her tone uncertain. “It was to tell me what a bitch I am.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Did you tell him to get fucked?”

Nesta chuckled. “Not this time…but I wanted to. He thinks if he digs his heels in, he can avoid this divorce but it’s happening either way.”

“This is why I’m not married,” Cassian said, reaching for a knife.

“Oh?” Nesta asked, an amused smile on her perfect face. “Is that the only reason?”

Cassian couldn’t help his grin. “I’m off-putting to women, of course.”

“There it is,” she said with a pretty laugh. “Want any help?”

“Get out of my kitchen, Nes,” Cassian replied, swatting her away. “Water’s fixed, by the way.”

The whole thing was warm and domestic. Nesta thanked him before sauntering off, hips swaying with each step. The only thing to temper Cassian’s hot blood was the hotter grill outside and a reminder that Nesta was off limits to him.

He was merely a guard meant to get her back home before the feds scooped her and her sisters back up again. Collateral, he supposed, for the game Rhys was playing with Feyre. Cassian was grateful for that, at least—if Rhys called him and told him to kill her, he wasn’t certain he could do it.

Cassian returned to find Nesta in a pair of tiny little shorts and a pink tank top. He wished she’d pull her hair down, still left in its braided crown, though in truth he could have stood at the backdoor and stared at her for an embarrassing length of time.

“What did I say about the kitchen?” he teased, setting his tray of meat and vegetables on the counter beside her.

“I wanted to make a little salad,” Nesta told him, showing him the bowl. “Do you even eat vegetables?”

“On occasion,” Cassian said with an easy grin. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, though. I’m not picky.”

“Tell me about yourself, Cassian,” Nesta ordered once they were seated at her little wooden table.

“There’s nothing interesting to tell,” he replied. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’ll bet you’re a lot more interesting than I am.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Nesta murmured.

“C’mon,” Cassian cajoled. Nesta sighed, eyes narrowed with that suspicious look he was growing so fond of. Was there such a thing as love at first sight, he wondered? Cassian was starting to suspect he was under its spell. Under hers, anyway. Nesta relented, telling him little stories he figured were probably half true.

Cassian knew the right questions to ask, at any rate. Careful not to mention her family, Cassian asked her about everything else. Nesta spoke about going to law school and living in Georgia, mentioning two friends she’d made—Gwyn the librarian and Emerie the grocer. He’d seen them on his porch when he first arrived.

He needed to do a little digging on them, but he figured they were likely fine.

“What about you?” Nesta asked, their meal long concluded. Cassian began gathering up dishes.

“What about me?”

“Are you from Georgia?” she questioned.

Cassian chuckled. “No, I’m not from Georgia. Just got unlucky in my assignment, I guess.”

“Why did you want to do this work?”

Cassian considered that. “I’m good at it,” he replied, drumming his fingers along the edge of the sink. “I kind of fell into it, actually. I guess I succumb easily to peer pressure because when one of my friends suggested I apply, I did it without hesitation.”

That wasn’t entirely true. There had been no application process—he and Rhys had become friends as boys and Rhys’s mother had been like a second mother to Cassian. He’d always wanted to repay them for their kindness and when Rhys asked him to join him as his right hand man, the answer had been obvious.

He couldn’t tell Nesta that, though. She didn’t poke, either, seemingly satisfied with his answer. While Cassian cleaned up, Nesta made her way to the living room, picked up a book, and curled up on the couch. Cassian watched her pull a blanket from the back of the sofa and drape it over her tanned knees.

“Cold, huh?” he joked.

“You fixed—”

A gunshot silenced both of them. Nesta jumped clean out of her skin, book falling from her trembling hands. Cassian frowned, his own heart racing with excitement. Finally, something interesting was happening.

His own gun was in his hand before Nesta ever stood. “Don’t move,” he whispered, motioning for her to get away from the window.

“Send the bitch outside!” a man’s voice yelled, filling Cassian with cold rage. He was at the door in a moment, flinging it open so it was his large body filling the space. On the lawn, a man stumbled forward, gun pointed at the sky. He pulled the trigger again, clearly trying to intimidate Cassian.

Cassian had been tied up before, a gun pressed against his lips while his cock was threatened with a knife. Some fucking rural drunk with a gun didn’t scare him. In truth, very little scared Cassian. He’d cheated death more times than he could count and he knew, as he stepped onto the lawn in the fading daylight, that he wasn’t going to die today.

This man, on the other hand…well. Cassian supposed it would depend on what he did next.

“Lower your weapon!” Cassian barked, his voice rough and menacing. The man jerked to look at him, eyes wide and watery. “Put your gun down or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Send out your bitch—”

Cassian didn’t shoot him, but he did hit him in the face. Hard. Maybe too hard given the way the man crumpled at his feet as blood poured from his nose. Only the alcohol kept him from passing out which was lucky for Cassian.

Crouching in the grass, Cassian grabbed the man by his thinning hair and forced his head into an unnatural angle. “What did you say?”

“I called her a bitch,” the man spluttered through the blood.

Cassian cocked his gun with his free hand and pressed it to the man's cheek. “Try again,” he whispered, fully intending on killing this man on the front lawn. Cassian’s finger pressed against the trigger just as Nesta barked, “Cassian!”

He twisted to look at her, arms crossed over her chest. She was fury incarnate right then, marching toward the pair of them without a care in the world.

“Get out of her, Brent,” Nesta ordered, pointing her finger toward the gate. “This is embarrassing, even for you.”

“You ruined my life—”

“You ruined your own life by cheating on your wife!” Nesta spat without remorse. “And you’re ruining it by assaulting a federal officer.”

Cassian nearly choked. Did he look like a cop right then?

“He assaulted me,” Brent protested, shoving out of Cassian’s grip.

“If I see you near her again, you’ll find yourself six feet under before you can utter one fucking word. Do we understand each other?” Cassian asked, rising to his full height. Brent glanced from the gun in Cassian’s hand to Cassian himself before offering a sullen nod.

“Whatever,” he muttered, clearly trying to save face. Cassian watched him stumble off, forcing himself not to pull the trigger anyway at the man’s retreating back. Nesta came to stand beside Cassian, resting her soft, small hand on his forearm.

“That’s the guy getting the divorce,” she told him, as if Cassian cared who he was. Letting someone who threatened him walk away unscathed felt wrong and Cassian longed to rectify it. Where did he live, he wondered?

“I can see why,” Cassian muttered, turning back for the house. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“He’s not coming back—”

“He pointed a gun at you,” Cassian growled, the memory filling him with rage.

Nesta only shrugged, proving that she was still part of the life whether she wanted to be or not. Did she know what a liar her younger sister was, he wondered? Did Nesta know it had been Feyre who killed her father? Looking at her in the warm light of the house, Cassian decided that a woman like Nesta wouldn’t allow herself to live this way if she hadn’t known. If she wasn’t protecting someone.

Who was protecting her?

“I’m fine,” Nesta reminded him. But Cassian knew all too well how differently things could have gone if he hadn’t been there. Cassian knew how quickly a bullet could end things.

“I’ll feel better out here,” he said, setting his gun on the glass coffee table. “You won’t change my mind, Nes.”

She hesitated, eyes moving from him to the window. “Fine.”

Cassian had no intention of sleeping, though. He waited until he knew Nesta was asleep, slipping into her bedroom just to check. She was so lovely even in sleep and Cassian had to resist the urge to touch her face. Not tonight. Another night, perhaps—but not this night.

The thing about small towns he found himself appreciating was how easy it was to find people. Slipping into a local bar, Cassian mentioned what had happened to the bartender, who helpfully told him where Brent lived.

He didn’t bother to slip in quietly. If he wanted to be unnoticed, he would have called up Azriel. Cassian liked when his marks were scared, for whatever that said about him. Flexing his fingers, Cassian picked through the dirty, mostly empty house. He supposed Nesta was helping to clean him out.

Good for her.

Brent was waiting in a fraying brown chair, a bottle of Jack Daniels held loosely in one hand. “Knew you weren’t no cop,” he muttered. “You got the look of a felon.”

“Have you been talking to my third grade teacher?” Cassian asked, his tone light. “She used to say the same thing.”

“You ain’t foolin’ no one but that girl of yours,” Brent told him, eyeing the gun in Cassian’s hand.

“She’s the only one I need to fool,” Cassain agreed, coming closer. “I swore an oath to protect her.”

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“But you scared her,” Cassian said in that same friendly tone. “You came to her house and threatened her and I can’t stand for that.”

“Well, I don’t really care if I scared her. Sometimes women ought to be a little afraid.”

Cassian clenched his fingers. “Is that so?”

“Make your threats and get the fuck out,” Brent ordered, taking another swig of whiskey. Cassian saw his gun on a chipped side table.

“You don’t have much going for you, do you Brent? Wife left you, took all your money…is about to take your house. You’ve got no job, no friends…anyone would lose it.”

“Yeah,” Brent mumbled, eyes glassy. “You get it.”

“If I were you, I’d probably kill myself too,” Cassian added, holding Brent’s gun in his hand. Brent’s eyes found him, big and wide with shock.

“What did you say?”

Cassian shrugged, making his way closer to the inebriated man. “I don’t think anyone will be surprised when they find you. I’ll bet it takes them days before someone comes checking.”

“Look, you don’t have to do this. I can…I can pay you—”

“No you can’t,” Cassian said with a chuckle. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t take your money. This is about honor, of which you have none because an honorable man wouldn’t try and threaten a woman for doing her job.”

“She fucked me over—”

“You fucked yourself,” Cassian interrupted, reaching for Brent’s hair a second time. “And you made a mistake coming after her.”

“I’m sorry—”

Cassian pressed the barrel of the gun beneath Brent’s jaw.

“I know you are,” he said, holding the man’s gaze. “It’s not enough.”

And then he pulled the trigger. The relief he felt was instantaneous, his blood lust slaked. It took another few seconds to arrange the gun in Brent’s hand, letting both his arm and the weapon fall lifelessly into his lap. The bottle of Jack hit the floor with a thud, spilling over stained wood floors.

The scene was practically a work of art. Textbook suicide—no one would look twice at him or Nesta. That didn’t stop him from wiping his prints on the way out, just in case. He found himself back on the couch, face washed of blood, before two am.

Cassian had been right about one thing: it took them three days to find Brent.

“Suicide,” Nesta said crisply when she learned, eyes focused on Cassian’s face.

He only smiled.

#nessian #nesta archeron x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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e-dubbc11 · 9 months

Text

In Bloom

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really, maybe a swear word or two but extra fluffy bunnies and unicorns

Word Count: 2.7k-ish

Summary: Part 1 of 3 (I think) Reader is in a bit of a romantic slump so she buys herself flowers every Friday until one day she finds out they’re already paid for.

A/N: Based on this ask/idea from my lovely lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass I hope you like it, my love ❤️

This girl is single and haven't had anyone in a while. Miss the intimacy. Just to make herself happy, she buys flowers for herself every Friday. But one day, the flowers have already been paid for. It's the same thing the next Friday. Then one day, there's a little note attached to the flowers....

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Rolling your eyes, those words felt like a hard punch to the stomach coming from your mother.

Your Friday afternoon lunch with her felt like days. It all started with the lunch spot you chose…it wasn’t to her standards but then again nothing was. Nothing seemed to ever be good enough whether it was your job, the clothes you wore, the apartment you lived in, or the sandwich shop you picked for lunch.

It was all beneath her, sub-standard, and you had accepted the fact that nothing you do will ever be good enough for her so you just decided to continue to do whatever made you happy and not worry about what would be pleasing to her.

She tried like hell to mold you into what she wanted you to be, how she wanted you to dress, what she wanted you to do for a living, and even what kind of wedding she had wanted you to have. She didn’t succeed and when you called off your wedding to a man that looked perfect on paper but was a monster behind closed doors, she didn’t try as hard to make you into something that you just weren’t going to be.

She still took not-so subtle jabs though.

“Have a good weekend, hun. Try and get some sleep, you look tired.”

A visit with mom wasn’t complete until she commented on how you looked. It was definitely time to go.

The early autumn wind picked up as you walked from the sandwich place toward the flower shop which was a few blocks away. Your little Friday tradition was just something you had decided to do for yourself every week.

The flowers made your apartment just a little bit brighter and brought a smile to your face every time you looked at them on your dining room table.

You hadn’t really noticed the flower shop before but it presented itself when you needed a little cheering up.

It was after another bad first date, the third one in a row. You were walking home from the bar after yet another Wall Street type asshole had spent the early evening hours droning on and on about himself when the essence of rose attacked your sense of smell. It stopped you dead in your tracks and caused you to shift your eyes from the sidewalk to the door of the flower shop in front of you.

Bouquets of beautiful flowers were in buckets of water outside but so many more caught your eye that were inside so you decided to go in and look around.

“We close in fifteen minutes, Miss. Is there something specific you’re looking for?” The man behind the counter had asked with a warm smile.

You tried to smile back but it only came out as half a smile. “Something to make me feel better after a bad date?” You replied.

His expression tempered and you could tell he really wanted to help.

“Let me see what I can put together for you.” He said.

And he went to work pulling flowers from different buckets and arranging them into the most beautiful bouquet, wrapping them in paper and plastic and securing them with a ribbon. The bouquet was full of carnations, roses, gerbera daisies, and lilies…all in different shades of red and pink. It was almost like he knew they were two of your favorite colors.

Watching him meticulously put those flowers together for you already made you feel better about that night.

“Here you go, my dear. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.” He said handing you the flowers.

You were absolutely stunned at how gorgeous they were and that was how you met Mr. Campbell, the sweetest little old man with the prettiest flowers in town which kept you coming back weekly for fresh ones.

After the taxing lunch you just had with your mother, it was time to make yourself feel better with your weekly flowers.

“Hi, Mr. Campbell. How are you today!?” You asked.

He shifted his gaze from the bouquet he was working on to greet you, pushing his glasses up that had slid down the bridge of his nose.

“My dear, y/n! Well, I can’t complain…I woke up again so that’s a good thing, plus I knew I’d get to see your smiling face today and that’s ALWAYS a good thing.” He said with excitement.

A wide smile stretched across your lips. “This is my favorite Friday stop, Mr. Campbell!” You said.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he raised his eyebrows. “You sure it’s not the liquor store, y/n?” He asked with a slight chuckle while looking at the bottle of wine in your hand.

You let out a full blown belly laugh. “Ok, well that’s my OTHER favorite Friday stop. You know I like my wine.” You said trying to control your laughter.

“What are you in the mood for today, my dear?” Mr. Campbell asked.

You inhaled sharply and let out a deep exhale. “Well I just had a very long and taxing lunch with my mother so something a little crazy with a lot of colors would be perfect.”

And that’s all he needed to hear. In a matter of minutes he moved from bucket to bucket, picking out every color flower he could get his fragile little hands on and arranged them especially for you into one crazy colored bouquet.

“Awww Mr. Campbell, they’re perfect, as always! Thank you!” You said handing him the money for the flowers and the nip of Jack Daniel’s you bought for him every Friday. “There’s better tasting whiskey out there, you sure you don’t want somethin’ else?”

“No, no…this is what I like y/n.” He said, getting back to the arrangement he was working on when you walked in.

“Ok, well you just let me know if you want something else. I gotta get goin’, I have a hot date with the couch and this wine when I get home.” You said sarcastically.

“It’s Friday night, my dear. You should go OUT on a date!” He said.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh no, don’t you start with me too Mr. Campbell. My mother said the same thing to me a little while ago. I’ll see you next week.” You said as you waved goodbye and reached for the door.

An incredibly handsome man on the other side of the door opened it for you and ushered you through. He was tall, with dark hair, a short beard, eyes as dark as the night sky and a perfect smile.

You smiled back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He said.

You didn’t look back and headed for home.

The flower shop after you left.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Russo. The usual for you today?” Mr. Campbell asked.

Billy had his long overcoat tucked under his arm, watching with a smile as he watched you walk down the street until you were out of sight.

“Yes please, Luther. That would be great.” Billy said softly as he paced around looking at all the different flowers.

Mr. Campbell had caught Billy looking at you when you left the shop.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she.” He stated, raising his eyebrows.

Billy thought he had acted nonchalant while checking you out. “What?” Billy asked. “Oh…yes…she is. Was that her first time in here?”

“She comes in every Friday and buys flowers for herself.” Mr. Campbell said.

A sly smirk stretched across Billy’s face. “Well we can’t have that now can we, Luther.”

Mr. Campbell returned the smirk, looked at Billy over his glasses and asked. “Shall I add another bouquet to your weekly purchase, Billy?”

“Yes please, whatever she wants but do NOT tell her I’m the one that paid for them.” Billy said sternly.

“She is going to ask, so what am I supposed to tell her?” Said Mr. Campbell.

Billy rested his hand on the counter and pondered for a minute.

As he picked up his flowers and started to walk toward the door, Billy turned back to Mr. Campbell and said “Just tell her you are sworn to secrecy and she’ll find out…soon, I promise.”

**********

The following Friday after a long day at work, you clocked out and started your walk to the flower shop. The warm afternoon sun grazed the high points of your face as you strolled down the sidewalk just enjoying the crisp fall air, and in no rush to get where you were going.

This was your favorite time of year. Vendors in the street sold warm apple cider and kettle corn, people with their flushed cheeks hurried past you with their hands shoved into their jacket pockets, while a short gust of wind nearly took your hat right off of your head.

Your first stop was the liquor store. Mr. Campbell really enjoyed the nip of Jack Daniel’s you gave him every Friday, he always told you it was the best part of his week and you loved it too. It felt nice to have something steady in your life even if was just a sweet elderly man and a bouquet of self-bought flowers.

The wind caught the door on your way into the flower shop and you had a hard time holding on to it but you managed to close it before it flew off the hinges.

“A little windy out there, y/n?” He joked, barely looking up from the arrangement he was putting together.

You pressed your lips together and replied. “Just a little. I nearly lost my hat, Mr. Campbell!”

“So what sort of bouquet will make you feel good today, my dear.” He asked.

Looking around the shop, the sunflowers caught your eye. “Something with a few sunflowers, I think.” You said.

And off he went picking out autumn colors of burnt orange, bright yellow, and deep red with the sunflowers being the focal point in the middle next to fern like greens. It was a beautiful work of art just like every other week which always put a smile on your face.

As you opened your purse, Mr. Campbell stopped you, waving his hand at you to put your wallet away. “No…no, they’re already paid for y/n.”

You had a confused yet skeptical look on your face. “What do you mean they’re already paid for?” You said.

“Exactly what I said y/n, someone has already paid for your flowers.” He said, with a devilish grin stretched across his face.

“Well, who paid for them?” You asked.

“I am sworn to secrecy, my dear.” He said raising his hand and closing his eyes.

Reaching into your tote bag, you pulled out the nip of Jack Daniel’s. “Ya know I’m not sure you deserve this today but that wouldn’t be very nice of me, would it.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I’m sworn to secrecy but you will find out soon who paid for them, he promised.” He stated with a slight smile as you waved and left the store.

Who could it be?

For the next few weeks, every time you’ve gone to pay for your flowers they had already been paid for. You even treated yourself to long stem red roses one week, orchids the next and Mr. Campbell STILL insisted he had already been paid. It didn’t matter how expensive the flowers were, you didn’t have to pay a dime.

Every week, you would BEG Mr. Campbell to tell you who was paying for your bouquets but he didn’t fold. He didn’t give up the name of the man buying you whatever your little heart desired that week but he really loved watching you smile.

Finally on week number four, you walked in to pick out your flowers and after putting together your bouquet, Mr. Campbell had a little something extra to add…it was a note that said:

Someone as sweet as you shouldn’t have to buy their own flowers. I hope you’ve been enjoying them. Now look outside…

You looked up from the card toward the door and flashing his perfect smile at you was the handsome man that had held the door open for you a handful of weeks ago. Warmth rushed to your cheeks and suddenly there were butterflies in your stomach as he walked through the door and planted himself firmly in front of you.

“Billy Russo…it’s nice to finally meet you…” He said, extending his hand for you to shake.

You extended your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Billy. I’m y/f/n y/l/n. So you’re the one that swore Mr. Campbell to secrecy?” You asked.

“Ah I knew Luther would be able to keep my secret, although he wanted me to tell you two weeks ago. He can be a little impatient.” Billy said with a warm smile and a slight whisper.

Looking over the tops of his glasses, Mr. Campbell said. “Well don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And do you have something for me, my dear y/n?”

You had completely forgotten about the nip of Jack Daniel’s in your bag that was meant for him so you reached in the bag and set it on the counter.

“Oh!! I am so sorry Mr. Campbell. Here ya go.” You said.

He took the little nip bottle and walked into the back room, behind the counter. He was gone for a few minutes.

“So what do ya say? Will you have a drink with me? I promise, it will be something better than Jack Daniel’s.” Billy said.

You chuckled a little when you heard Mr. Campbell shout from the back room. “I heard that, Billy!”

“I knew you would, sir!” Billy shouted back. “He has the best flowers in town plus he’s a veteran and I like supporting veteran owned businesses.” Billy said.

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. They looked like two endless pools of dark chocolate and they weren’t looking at anything except you.

Moving a stray hair away from your face, you replied. “I do too…I have friends and family that are veterans. Did you serve, Billy?”

“Three tours in Iraq…one in Afghanistan.” He said softly, inching closer to you.

Mr. Campbell surprised both of you when he appeared from the back. “Will you two get outta here! You can learn all about each other over a drink…GO! Get out!” He said, practically shooing you out of his shop and handing Billy his flowers.

“Alright, alright Mr. Campbell, we’re going…I’ll see you next week!” You said as you waved and walked out the door with Billy.

“Well? You wanna have that drink with me, y/n?” Billy asked again.

You bit down on your lower lip and glanced at the ground before capturing his gaze again. “I’d love to.” You said. “But I do have to drop these flowers off at home first so they don’t wilt. I live only a couple blocks from here. And it looks like you have flowers to drop off as well. Can I meet you in an hour? Is that enough time?”

Billy smiled. “That’s perfect…don’t you wanna know where I’m going to drop these off?” He asked nervously before opening the door to his car.

“As long as they’re not going to a wife or a girlfriend, it’s really none of my business Billy. But if you wanna tell me, you’re more than welcome to tell me later or another time. It’s up to you.” You said with a welcoming smile.

Billy looked surprised by your answer, he wasn’t expecting it and ultimately it was his decision of whether or not he wanted to tell you where he went every week at this time.

“Well ok then. So I’ll meet you back here in an hour?” He asked.

“I’ll see you in an hour…and Billy?

He looked up so his eyes were locked on yours.

A big smile stretched across your lips as you said “Thank you for my flowers.”

Billy smiled a wide Cheshire cat smile and winked at you. “You’re welcome, y/n and I will see you very soon.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @simple-lovebot @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fic #billy russo #billy russo fluff #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction

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dmercer91 · 8 months

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i’m in a roll with luca and black cat-

anyway

black cat not knowing what to get luca’s parents, so she both gives them a few framed photos of the boys big moments, but also sketches one or two of them out on a canvas

and they’re so thankful, but don’t want yo make it awkward

and adam- because he beats luca to it- goes up to his parents while black cat goes to the restroom or soemthing an explains js how much it means fo ther to give them her drawings

and it makes luca all 🥹 for black cat and adam’s bond

i’ve come back from the dead (i’ve been gone for a day)

i was so tired last night i fell asleep on the couch and my dad had to bring me to my room like when i was 7

but i started a load of laundry so i could stay up and write (knowing something needs to be done before i sleep is the only way i can function i hate myself)

but yes!!!! she makes a series of these three moments from ushl to mich to draft day for their christmas present

but like the boys are isolated and the backgrounds are all white

the middle one she’d done for a project (nobody knows this and she will make sure it stays that way) where she had to paint something with like visible facial expressions

but she felt like that wasn’t enough so she made multiple

she showed them to luca before they left for the holidays and he nearly sobbed on the spot

like he hugged her and held her head and smooshed her hair around in excitement and told her how much he loved her

and the hug lasted so long

fantilli christmas’ | opposites attract au, lf63

you’d never woken up early on christmas mornings, you never really celebrated other than being happy to have the day off and exchanging a gift between you and your dad

you’d had trees and sometimes your dad would convince you to make cookies, but only when you were much younger

so it was definitely weird to be awake before daylight, greeted with a tree full of gifts and lucas mom handing you a plate of bacon, eggs and french toast.

your legs were laid over lucas, your head rested on his shoulder while you fought sleep, his hands gently running through your hair not helping your case.

while adam dragged himself into the room, tired and rubbing sleep from his eyes, luca tilted his head to the side to be level with you

you gave him a small grin and he tilted your head to peck your lips, moving back to his original position once adam dropped down beside him and caused a ripple in the cushions

“it’s too early for you two to be-“ adam gestured vaguely in your direction, grumbling to finish his sentence

his mom brought him coffee and his food, and then everyone started on gifts.

yours to lucas parents was buried at the back of the tree- since you felt a little embarrassed by it and wanted to put off letting them open it for as long as possible

when they finally got to it you gave a small smile and clutched onto luca, nerves kicking in full force

luca was giddy, all too excited for his parents to open up your present, so he squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead, trying to reassure you that everything would be okay

they opened it and right away, their mom looked up with a heartfelt smile while they’re dad was just staring

“you’re so talented, sweetheart. thank you,” she turned her attention back to the art and leaned on her husband, smiling.

when they both looked back up, their eyes were watering and yours went wide, looking up at luca who was beaming at his parents

adam sent you a reassuring look, so you looked back over to them.

“can i hug you?” his mom tilted her head, smiling softly while getting up from her seat.

you nodded slightly, feeling a little awkward and you untangled yourself from luca and wrapped your arms around her waist.

she squeezed you tight, cupping your face and pulling back to look at you

“thank you, y/n,” you smiled in return, nodding slightly and moving back to your seat, re attaching yourself to luca.

the five of you sat around the living room for a while after everything was out away, yourself mostly silent

eventually, you poked lucas arm and mumbled that you were going to get ready. he smiled and kissed you, mumbling an okay before taking his arm off from around you and watching you walk off

once you were gone, his mom spoke up

“she’s beautiful, luca. and she’s got the biggest heart,” all he could do was smile, his heart swelling in his chest at her praise of you

“she’s good, isn’t she?” adam beamed, nodding to the piece you’d painted that was safe on the side table until there was time to put it up

both of their parents nodded and adam continued

“she works hard, mama. she was nervous for you to see. think it’s cause she spent so long and wanted you to like it,” luca watched his brother, smile getting harder and harder to contain

“well, we love it,” she reassured, adam smiling

“she’s at michigan for art, so she would’ve had to take extra time on top of other pieces. and i know she prefers to draw, so i think you guys liking it was really important for her,” he finished, smiling to himself

he looked over at luca, who was just glowing with pride for you, and his cheeks flushed

“sorry,” he mumbled and luca shook his head

“she loves you, too, mo,”

#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#opposites attract au !#luca fantilli #luca fantilli x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #umich hockey

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momotonescreaming · 9 months

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I went digging through my fics, and found this. Absolutely no idea when I wrote this, or if I shared it already, but I can't stop thinking about it. Enjoy.

It’s the 1800’s, and Steve is the first born and only son of Richard Harrington, heir to the Harrington fortune. Expectations have been placed upon him since he was born, and it only got worse as he got older. He was too kind, liked flowers, and playing in the mud, and learning about horses and carriages and trains, and sitting with his mother while she put on make up and had her ladies maid do her hair. Then came the lessons from the private tutor (since the Harrington’s were too good for the local school) and Steve wasn’t as book smart as his father wanted him to be.

His father was mean and his mother was scared and so Steve spent a lot of time out in the fields as a young boy, wandering the land his father owned, picking up sticks and pretending to be a sheriff or an adventurer riding a fast horse into the sunset.

So he played until it got dark and Steve still didn’t go back home. Dad would yell and Mom would give him That Look and he didn’t want to change into his fancy dinner clothes. So Steve stays out late and wanders.

There are things living in the woods.

Things with teeth that hunt and kill and make people disappear. But no one tells poor little Steve this. He gets attacked by a wolf that isn’t quite a wolf, and screams so so loud.

Nobody hears him.

One of his father’s farmhands find him in the woods in the early morning. His clothes are ripped and he’s dirty and covered in blood but he doesn’t have any wounds, save for one single wolf bite. The man rushes him back to the Harrington Manor House, and someone calls the doctor. Steve is bathed, and fed, and checked over and the doctor tells his parents that he’s lucky it wasn’t worse. He gets better and goes back to his lessons.

Next month he gets a fever. Steve is sweaty and delirious, and hungry and itchy and restless and nothing quite helps. He blacks out one night and when he wakes up he’s curled up on the hardwood floor and all his furniture has been ripped apart. The servants whisper the word “werewolf” in the halls.

His parents fire half the servants, pay them off to keep their mouth shut, and hire someone who can help. A friendly woman named Mrs Henderson, whose dead ex-husband was a werewolf like Steve. She teaches him what she can while Richard Harrington hires men to build a stone basement underneath a small cottage at the very back of the Harrington Land. Where no one can see.

So Steve grows up, he falls in love, he finds out his sweetheart Nancy doesn’t love him, he befriends Dustin Henderson, and then Robin Buckley - a dorky local girl who plays the trumpet and works at a store in town. And once a month, he takes himself down to the basement of the cottage, and turns into a werewolf. Mrs Henderson could only help so much, not being a Werewolf herself. His control is better than it was, but he still doesn’t trust himself. So chained in the basement it is.

Then there’s Eddie Munson, the poor son of an outlaw living with his uncle in a tiny house in the town of Hawkins. Grew up learning how to break the law with his father, how to live off the land, how to shoot and hunt and survive. He hated it, little Eddie wanted to learn to play the guitar and read and tell stories. But Pa didn’t give him much of a choice. Until Ma died and Pa spiralled and ended up getting caught and shipped off to prison. So he went to live with his uncle Wayne. And he made friends, and told stories, and started writing.

And then he watched a girl die and got blamed for her murder. So he’s on the run, and he knows how to survive but not when he doesn’t have any supplies. And not in a town where everyone knows his name and his face. So he runs. And he hides. First in his friend Rick's, who’s away in jail or on a job or something. Eddie's not sure and he really doesn't care right now. But he gets close to getting caught again. So he runs again until he finds a barn, semi abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

He’s close to the Harrington’s land, this he knows. But everyone knows they travel for business all the time, so it’s fine.

Except it’s not.

He’s tired and hungry and scared and it’s dark. There’s a light in the distance - lantern. He ducks down, waiting. Except it’s not the Sheriff, or Jason Carver (who took it upon himself to become a bounty hunter, to avenge the death of his sweetheart). It’s Steve Harrington. The semi-estranged, semi-reclusive Harrington heir, who looks grim and angry as he storms across the field. And he doesn’t see Eddie, doesn’t look at the barn, doesn’t even have a horse.

Steve goes into the cottage and Eddie doesn’t know whether to stay put until he leaves in the morning or make a run for it. Eddie is still paralysed with fear and indecision when he notices the full moon in the sky.

He hears a guttural scream, the snap of bone, a howling; and Eddie remembers the stories his Uncle Wayne would tell him of the things that live in the woods.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #pre steddie #werewolf au #western au #momo.txt #honestly this fucks #past me knew whats up #no idea on how this goes though lmao #past me did not make notes #my writing

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svt-rosalie · 2 months

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. . . ♡ FAMILY ! ? 🌷 MEMBERS ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ NAME — aurore dumont

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ AGE — 49 ❪ march 15, 1974 ❫

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ STATUS — alive

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ FAMILIAL TIES — mother & daughter

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ DESCRIPTION — to say jihye is a mommy’s girl, is an understatement. jihye is her mothers mini me. as a little girl, rosie would take her mothers makeup and dress up in her moms clothes (even though they were a bit too big for her 8 year old frame) and walk down the hall to their living room giving a little runway show, to which her mother would always be her biggest fan and cheer her on.

“oh so gorgeous!” “i have the prettiest daughter in the world!”

as rosalie grew older, her mother became her anchor for teenage years. especially when she became a trainee and was away from her mother for a while (rosalie began living with her grandparents for about a year whilst her parents found a decent house and building for the bakery). there was many late night calls that would lead the poor girl to tears, crying out that she misses her mom. aurore was able to life up her daughter on her dark days and laugh with her daughter on the bright ones and that’s all that rosalie needs.

nothing is more important than the love a mother gives.

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ NAME — park hyeonju

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ AGE — 52 ❪ october 18, 1971 ❫

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ STATUS — alive

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ FAMILIAL TIES — father & daughter

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ DESCRIPTION — hyeonju is a father and everything in between, a best friend, a hype man, and a body guard. now valentine is the biggest daddy’s girl but that doesn’t mean rosalie isn’t next in line in wanting all of her appa’s attention. she loves when her dad ask her to join in on activities he knows she doesn’t enjoy, like going to the hardware store or making renovations to the house, but just wants to spend quality time with her one way or another — and he always goes to the nail salon to get their toes done together after wards. you gotta pamper yourself after all that hard work as rosalie says.

hyeonju always attended everyone of rosalie’s daddy daughter school events and made sure she was the most spoiled girl without making her a brat. she’s his first daughter/child so of course he’s going to make sure she knows she is loved both emotionally and physically. anytime the park family is out on a errands or just to spend family time together, rosalie is always holding her fathers hand or his arm (or on the special occasion he’s giving rosalie a piggy back ride).

rosalie couldn’t ask for a better father, he’s the one there to fight off all the monsters hiding in her closet and hold her close when the nightmares hit too close to home.

“it’s okay my rosebud, flowers can’t bloom without a little rain huh? appa’s here, it’s okay.”

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ NAME — park jiyeong, valentine dumont

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ AGE — 13 ❪ february 14, 2010 ❫

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ STATUS — dead ❪ february 12, 2022 ❫

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ FAMILIAL TIES — little sister & older sister

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ DESCRIPTION — valentine is rosalie’s entire heart, literally. when valentine was born all bets were off — rosalie was obsessed with her and wouldn’t let her out of her sight. she told all her friends and teachers at school that she has a new little sister and that she’s the best thing ever even though she’s stinky sometimes.

valentine grew up basically shadowing everything rosalie did. rosalie went for extra lessons for english, valentine would too even though she liked her french classes more; rosalie would put a little bit of lip gloss on and valentine would always pucker up her lips for some as well saying she wants to be just as pretty as her big sister! everything they did was for each other and with each other, you’d think they were twins.

when rosalie became a trainee, valentine bragged to everyone saying she was going to have the bestest singing sister in the world, mind you valentine was around 3 at this time so all she knew was the videos rosalie would play of girls generation and shinee, so she thought rosalie was going to be the coolest person in the world. she was right.

as valentine grew up and rosalie began to get busier with being an idol, nothing in their relationship changed. rosalie still called every night to her mom and dad and asked for valentine within 5 minutes.

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ NAME — sabrina

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ AGE — 5 years old ❪ 2018 ❫

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ BREED — ragdoll cat, female

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ STATUS — alive

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ DESCRIPTION — sabrina is and always has been jihye’s number one girl. she received sabby as a gift when she was 18 as a birthday gift from her appa after she had been begging for years for a cat. sadly her mama is allergic so her parents had to wait till their oldest was out of the house to allow such a big purchase and why not when she becomes an “adult”!

sabrina only likes rosalie and pixie. anybody that tries to pet her she will hide and slap your hand away (claws not out, she’s not that mean). she’s a sweet girl though, to rosalie, and loves to cuddle and make biscuits. she’ll sleep all night surprisingly and be the most active kitty you’ve ever seen during the day time.

rosalie knows she’ll be heartbroken when sabrina gets older but right now sabrina is still just a little baby who loves to be carried around and played dress up with!

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ NAME — pixie

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ AGE — 2 years old ❪ 2021 ❫

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ BREED — black cocker spaniel, female

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ STATUS — alive

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ DESCRIPTION — pixie is just a little baby. she has no thoughts in her head expect her best friend sabrina the ragdoll, her owner rosalie and treats. she’s such a sweetheart but is genuinely just so coocoo.

she doesn’t go crazy like sabrina will but she’s just dumb. . . to put it mildly. pixie will be walking and is only looking up at rosalie instead of straight ahead of her and bump into a wall, she’ll bark at the floor because she thought she saw another being that wasn’t suppose to be there but it was actually just her own shadow coming from the sun shining in the window.

rosalie has a little like baby walker that she puts pixie in for walks and sometimes sabrina as well. when rosie bought that a lot of people thought she was pregnant. . . nope just for her fur babies. pixie is rosalie’s best friend and often goes with her to practices and oversea events when the group is going to be there for a while (sabrina doesn’t do well on planes so she stays with wonwoo’s family).

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon

click here to join the taglist!

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girlwithalotoffeelings · 1 year

Text

Dilf!Eren Modern AU

18+ MDNI NSFW

In this AU Paradis island is a sunken city type beat, think Venice. AKA no one is allowed to live there because it's too dangerous. It was evacuated when Eren and the rest of the cast were kids. The actual location of where you are is left vague for easier reader insertion. Ok ok enough subtext, enjoy your juice my dear reader <333

You were so excited to be back home after so long. You had been away at college and haven't seen your mom since her wedding 2 years ago. She had gotten remarried to a man named Jean a little older than she was. She had you when she was 19, you never met the dead beat of a father and you never cared to.

After you moved away you expected her to be a little lonely but not for her to go out and get a whole fiancé only 3 months after you left. Like damn she got snatched with a quickness.

You didn't even know the guy but decided to support your mom regardless. You had met the sarcastic and caring man once before they actually got married, and he seemed decent enough, so you were content.

You were supposed to wait at the airport for one of Jean's friends to pick you up since he was stuck at work, and your mom was taking care of your sick grandmother for the weekend.

You immediately turned your phone off airplane mode after getting your feet on solid ground again. You collected your bags and walked right through the gate, looking down at your phone, texting your best friend that you made it back safe.

As you were walking past the people there for collections, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up to see the gorgeous man you knew as Eren. His thick and long chocolate brown hair pulled back and out of his face in a bun. A light stubble graces his face, his green eyes piercing as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Long time no see." His tone is friendly, you smile.

"Hey, I didn't think you'd be here already." He motions you to keep walking with a hand to the small of your back. He takes your suitcase from you and you allow him.

"I didn't wanna be late picking you up, your ma might just put my head on a spike." He said laughing at his own joke, you join in barely catching the way he stares at your lips as you let out a giggle.

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you made your way to his car. He unlocked it, and you got in the passenger seat. Following you suit, he gets in and reaches over you to buckle your seatbelt for you before doing his own "Safety first." A blush spread wildly over your cheeks at his sudden actions. He started the car, and you watched the way his fingers worked the gear shift, feeling knots in your stomach.

"How's school been, little one?" He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but you can see the faint smirk on his lips. You let out a scoff at his pet name, it sluring into a bit of a laugh at the end.

"It's been good, exams are tough but I manage." You lean back a little, resting your head on the back seat.

"Any college boys caught your eye?" You look down to your hands and twiddle your thumbs.

"Nah, not really." You laugh shyly.

"Bullshit, they're probably dropping at your feet. Or throwing themselves at you in the very least." He scoffs, changing gears, giving you another opportunity to admire his hands. You laugh loudly and bring your hands up, hiding your face in them.

"Fuck no! You couldn't be further from the truth." You say, looking out of the window.

"Well, they're missing out, more for me I guess." He laughs as you punch his arm playfully.

"And what about you, huh? Gotta wife yet?" You shift the topic

"Why? Are you offering?" He side eyes you and turn your head away blushing. He laughs and shakes his head lightly. "Nah, I'm not married yet little one." There's that nickname again.

"Why not? Never found right one?" You ask him genuinely curious how this Greek God of a man isn't already taken.

"That's horseshit." His voice is flat.

"What is?" You tick your head, confused.

"The idea of 'the one'. Like there's this one perfect person out there. Everyone has flaws, no ones perfect for anyone." He states plainly

"You don't believe in soul mates?" You turned in your chair to face him a little more.

He sighs but starts talking once you wait for him expectantly, not letting it go. "I think soulmates are made; they don't come wrapped up all pretty with a bow. They're annoying, and they get on your nerves and piss you off at the best of times, and you'll do the same to them. But they'll also be there for you when no one else will, hold your hand, wipe your tears, and make you laugh even if you feel like shit. I think that when you accept both sides of each other and love each other more because of it, that's when you become soul mates." He looks at you fully for a couple seconds before looking back. His features were so gentle and sincere, it made you smile warmly at him.

"I think that might be the most beautiful thing I've ever heard anyone say in my entire life." You say in the warmest and kindest tone you ever have, even surprising yourself a bit. You sounded a bit awestruck, never having heard a man spill their thoughts so fluently and poetically.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." His small smile never quite leaving his lips.

The rest of the car ride was silent, neither of you trying to break it, both content in each other's silence.

You walked into your mother's home that she now shared with Jean. Taking off your jacket and setting it over the arm of the couch.

"Thank you for picking me up, I really appreciate it, uncle Eren." You said as you plopped down on the couch with a sigh.

He quirks his eyebrow at your use of the word uncle. He comes up behind the couch and leans slightly over to whisper in your ear. "Don't call me uncle." He doesn't move once he's done speaking.

"Why not?" You keep facing forward, not daring to look at him. Your breath hitches when you feel soft, almost non-existent feather light kisses pressed to the shell of your ear and down to your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you focus on the sensation.

"Because I would much rather you call me something else instead, little one." There was a suggestive tone to his voice. Your eyes open, now turning your head to him.

"Why do you call me that?" Your voice is just above a whisper, you both focusing on each other's lips.

"Come here." He rounds the couch, holding out a hand for you. You take it, and he leads you to the guest bedroom. Wordlessly, he places you in front of him, both of you looking dead on into a full-length mirror. His hands come to rest on your hips, and you can see a small smirk in the corner of his mouth.

"Look at us, I mean, really look at us. Look how tiny you are compared to me." His hand shifts as he lays it across your torso, almost covering all of you. You finally take notice of what he's saying. He stands more than a foot taller than you, hands twice the size of your own, his frame engulfs you whole. That was when you swallow down the slight moan that was waiting in your throat.

"You see it now, don't you?" He leans down and wraps his arms around you, his head coming to rest over your shoulder, both of you still admiring each other in the mirror.

He looks your reflection up and down, biting his lip as he smirks, holding back a small groan in the back of his throat. You look at him questioningly, still cradled by his embrace. "What is it?" His graze travels to the real you while yours stay trained on the mirror. He looks down your body, hand coming up under your sweatshirt, finger grazing the waistband of your sweatpants, he held his hand firmly over your lower belly, rubbing tender circles into your soft skin.

"I was thinking about how pretty you'd look with my cock inside you," his fingers dig into your flesh slightly. "Right here." He's breathing, becoming more like panting as his voice trails to a whisper. You take a sharp inhale, now you do let out that moan, your hand running over his denim clad thighs.

You're both breathing heavily, the mirror almost forgotten as you both focus on each other. His breath his hot on your neck. His other hand trailing up to rest comfortably on your neck, causing your eyes to close, your lips to part more, and your head to slightly lull back.

"Fuck, you like that. My hand around your throat." He now squeezed a little tighter, not enough to cut off your oxygen.

Your eyes were rolling back as your hands were running over his covered hard on. His lips come down to meet yours in a feverish and rough kiss. His tongue is running over yours as your spit mixes together. He moans into your mouth when you squeeze your hand around his throbbing dick.

"Tell me to fuck you. Tell me I can pin you to this bed and shove my cock inside your pretty little body." You whine at his words, rubbing your thighs together.

You barely get out a "Please." Before Eren's hands are taking off your shirt and pants. You're shoved towards the bed, falling flat on your tummy. Without hesitation you raise yourself up onto your knees and elbows, spreading your legs as far apart as they would go and arching your back deeply.

"God, you're fucking perfect." You hear eren mumble behind you before you feel a slight slap on your cotton covered pussy. You let out a breathy moan, jumping a little at the sensation before your back arches deeper.

Eren strips from his clothes behind you before he practically tears your underwear from your skin, exposing your pussy lips to the cool air. "Eren!" You look behind your shoulder at him, seeing him transfixed as he spreads your pussy open with his thumbs.

"I'll buy you new ones," His voice trails off lightly while he runs a thumb up and down your slit, your juices practically dripping from you. "Your pussy is so pretty, little one. And so wet." He leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your slightly open hole.

"I'll eat this pretty hole out later. Gotta have you on my cock right now." He lines his cock head up with your entrance, and without warning, he slams his entire length inside of you. You let out a strangled scream and immediately move to crawl away from the intrusion. His hands hold onto your hips firmly as he grinds his hips further into you.

"Shhhhh, don't run from me. Take it. You're wrapped so good and tight around me." His slow grinding starts speeding up progressively till he's fucking into you earnestly. "Shit you're tightening up, baby. You gonna cum for me?"

You could barely form coherent thoughts anymore, much less sentences. You just shake your head vigorously. He chuckles behind you, letting it morph into a moan as he starts fucking you harder. So hard that he pushes you forward with his body, laying you flat on the bed with him flat against your backside.

His cock is so deep inside you that you actually start having black spots in your vision. That's when it hits you, the most powerful orgasm you've ever had in your life. You scream and shake, your legs flailing wildly as your hands try to push against him to let up on you. He's moaning into your ear, not stopping or slowing down for a second. "Too deep!" You say still pushing against him.

"You can take it, little one. Just enjoy it. Feel every inch of me, so deep in your guts." He grabs your hands and intertwines your fingers, pinning them down.

He doesn't stop, even when tears start running down your face from the overwhelming stimulation. He just slips his tongue over your cheeks and down your neck.

He starts slowing after a couple more minutes. He lifts himself off of you, leaving your pussy hollow and dripping wet.

He grips you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the mattress. "Awwe, poor baby. You're not gonna tap out on me, are ya? Because I'm not done with this little body yet."

He lifts you from the bed and stands you. He holds you head up by the jaw, his other arm around your waist, supporting you as he makes you look up at him. He smiles at your fucked out and dilerious expression. "You with me, baby?" His voice is soft as he looks deeply into your eyes. He captured your lips and tongue in a heated kiss, grounding you. You kiss him back with so much passion sucking on his tongue as he moans. You break apart and look up at him, dazed.

"You good?" He asks gently. You nod and palm his still rock hard dick. Without any further words, he spins you around and places you in front of the mirror. Placing your hands on the frame for you as he bends down to lead his dick back into your open hole, sighing in pleasure when you take all of him in. He is slightly more gentle this time.

You're both meaning and groaning loudly, both of you just enjoying each other. "I need to have this pussy everyday." He grabs your hips so rough; you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning. His hand wraps around your neck from behind as he pulls you against his hunched over frame. You're surprised when he straightens up and your feet are lifted up from the floor, forcing you to hold onto his forearms for support.

"Holy shit, Eren!" You say in a strained voice.

"I love seeing that bulge in your belly," You shift your gaze to the mirror to find the most exotic thing you've ever witnessed. You're being held up by a single hand on your stomach, just above your pelvic bone and a hand on your throat. Low and behold, there it is, a bulge protruding from your skin, just under your belly button disappearing and reappearing with ever thrust. One of your hands comes to rest on the spot as you apply pressure, making both of you let out a moan so loud you doubt the neighbors didn't hear it.

"I need to cum in you." Your eyes widen as a guttural moan cums from your throat. Your pussy clenches at his words.

"Yeah, you like that? You want my cum?" Whispers of "Yes" is all that can be heard from you.

"Are you on birth control, baby?" You shake your head no and squeeze him again.

"Dirty girl, you want me to get this little cunt pregnant?" You're whining loudly at the power of his thrusting.

"You're gonna cum with me. Play with yourself. Be a good little fucktoy and make this tight little cunt cum on my big cock. This is my pussy now. I'm the only one that can ever touch you like this. If anyone ever touches my cunt I'll kill them. I'm gonna claim you from the inside out. I'm gonna tie you up and fuck you all day, filling you with so much cum that you have no choice but to have my kids." He was just blurring out whatever came to mind at this point, his words turning him on more.

You obey him and start feverishly, rubbing your clit making you grip down on him so tight you can feel all every vein of his cock. "Shit, you're gonna get a creampie, little girl." And not a second later, he pushes all the way into you, filling you up to the brim with his cum, even leaning slightly back for good measure, to make sure it gets in as heap as possible. He moans out his orgasm loudly with a string of profanities. Once his cock stops twitching inside you and you stop spasming and shaking from your own orgasm he starts grinding into you lazily.

"You're either calling me by my name, or daddy. I don't wanna hear you call me uncle ever again, little girl."

Lord have mercy; this man has the masses in a choke hold. It's me, I'm the masses...

I was actually supposed to add a vampire element to this but I could figure out how to add it in so I will make a separate post dedicated to that theme.

#eren smut #smutty #tw:breeding #aot smut #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren aot #eren x you #eren jaeger #attack on titan eren #smut #size difference #size k!nk #belly bulge

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slowandsteddie · 1 month

Text

Lazy Petals

AO3

Okay. This work is NOT completed. I cannot guarantee an update schedule because only the first chapter is completed. However, I DO have everything plotted out (assuming it doesn’t get a mind of its own) and the goal is to be 50k+ words.

This story is very personal to me. I’ve taken my grandparents love/live story and made it Steddie. The characters are going to be OOC. Just letting you know right off the bat in case that is something you aren’t interested in. Also, this is a No Upsidedown AU.

My grandparents were immediately obsessed with each other, but didn’t date until after they had graduated high school. Which means that while this isn’t a slow burn, it is going to be slower than the stuff I usually write.

I don’t want to give too, too much stuff away. There there is a post where I described the main highlights and asked your opinion on reading it. There is also a poll where I asked if I should start posting before it was finished, and I got a pretty definite yes.

I saved the divider that I plan on using for this series back when I first started talking about it. I have since lost my note that told me whom to give credit to. If you know who made it (or know how to find that information on mobile!!) please let me know.

I think that’s enough of a preamble. Without further ado, here be the CW’s and the first 3,489 words.

Content Warnings: Steve was hit by a car and in a full body cast for over a year - he makes a bowling joke about it, his parents are very distant, his grandparents got very distant after his injury and he doesn’t understand why, Wayne is very careful while babysitting to make sure that no one can accuse him of being inappropriate, mentions of his mom overmedicating him so he’s easier to deal with, mentions of how weak he got from being in the cast. And as always, let me know if I missed anything.

Steve didn’t remember much about that night.

His mother said that it was a blessing and refused to fill in any blanks for him under any circumstances.

His father, however, if he had drunk enough whiskey, would look at the six year old Steve as though he were a much older man and sigh before telling him anything he wanted to know.

Which meant that Steve knew that the car that hit him swerved in order to do so. (He didn’t know if the lady in the little blue car did it on purpose, or if she was a distracted driver. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that.) He knew that she had to have been going over forty miles per hour because the impact sent him flying at least a dozen feet before he slammed into that bus stop. He knew that the driver kept going and that at least half a dozen people ran to his aid and that one of the women had screamed because he was unconscious and she was so certain that he was dead. His little body was so broken and bloody and they couldn’t see him breathe.

He also knew that his father got to his hospital room before his mother, sweat pouring down the older male’s body as though he had showered in his clothes because he had run there from work. His mother showed up over twenty minutes later, all put together like she had taken the time to clean herself up before appearing. Something his father wasn’t sure if he could forgive her for. (This was one of the few times that his father would express just how much that he loved Steve, and he would carry that warmth with him forever.)

He knew that they had to revive him four times, that they had done twelve surgeries, that they had put him in a full body cast because nearly every bone in his body had been broken, including parts of his spine. He knew that his parents had been told that he would likely never walk again. He knew that a specialist had pulled his father aside to inform him that his brain wouldn’t develop normally after all of the trauma that it had been through after being smacked around in his skull. They’d have to be careful, and that they’d have to understand if he never progressed much past the age that he was now. That he could be in his fifties and still acting five and that there was nothing that could be done beyond what they had already done – remove a small part of bone behind his ear to help relieve the pressure and pray for the best while preparing for the worst.

And, while he couldn’t remember the absolute agony that he must have been in. He did have the descriptions that he used to tell his father. That there was lava in his veins and his bones were shards of ice cold glass threatening to tear him apart completely. His father had only told him that part once, with tears in his eyes. “There wasn’t anything I could do to help you, boy. I couldn’t take the pain away. I would have died to save you even a fraction of that.”

That was one of the few times that he could remember his dad hugging him. He had been so careful and gentle while pressing his face into his hair. He inhaled deeply and he cried. And Steve had done his best to hug him back despite the plaster that made it near-impossible to move his arms at all.

At first, Steve had thought that it was really cool to be stuck in bed all the time. He didn’t have to do anything. That got boring within a week and he still had at least a year ahead of him where he was meant to stay in bed unless he was in the bathroom or at a doctor’s appointment.

Even eating in bed, something that had once been unacceptable and even punishable before, lost its novelty pretty quickly.

He liked having his mom read him notes from the teacher and his classmates. He liked her reading him his homework assignments and writing down his answers for him so that he would still be on track. It made him feel like an important man, like his dad was going to be, with a secretary.

The thing is, though, that he really missed going outside. He missed playing in the woods outside of the trailer park where he lived. He missed going to his grandparents house with the pool and the stairs that he’d probably never be able to walk again. He could climb them, though, after the cast was removed. He was pretty sure. He might not have a lot of muscle left at that point, but that would just mean that he was lighter and had less to have to move anyway.

When Steve brought that up to his mother, her lips would turn into a very tight, thin line and something he couldn’t name would flash in her eyes. “You are not going to go to that house any time soon, young man. It’s best to let those ideas go.”

“But I miss Grandma Marty and Grandpa Pete, and they won’t come here,” he whined.

“The Harrington’s won’t come to the trailer park and you know that.”

“We’re Harrington’s too,” he’d say defiantly.

She’d leave the room at that. Effectively ending an argument that they had had multiple times before. But what else did Steve have to talk about? He didn’t really have anyone else to talk to either, other than their neighbor that he had taken to calling Mister Wayne.

Wayne was probably a few years older than his dad and lived alone in a trailer that had always seemed so lively despite the quiet man who lived in it. He always had the tv or the radio on when he was home and Steve lived for that. Because his window was always cracked open for the breeze, which meant the sound could drift to him as well.

It was better than the quiet of his house that only seemed to get broken up with arguments and slamming doors. He was so used to it, but he still flinched every time and did his best to pull the blanket over his head as though that would muffle the sounds.

Sometimes, Wayne would come to his window and read him a book that his own nephew liked. The Hobbit. Steve fell in love with the adventure of it, and Wayne never seemed to mind reading him the same book over and over, a few pages at a time while he smoked.

More often than not, Wayne was the one who came over to babysit once he noticed that Steve had been left alone. He never once complained about it, never once gave someone else the chance despite all the ladies who would come over with food. And wine for his mom, when they could spare it.

Sometimes, Wayne would talk about his nephew. He was a scrawny kid, a few years older than Steve, named Eddie. Had a dark mop of long curly hair, and eyes that always seemed to have mischief in them. They’d like each other, Wayne was pretty sure, and he’d introduce them the next time that Eddie came to visit.

Steve would want to ask when that would be, but he never did. He had Mister Wayne and that was more than enough for him. His dad was staying later at the office, trying to prove that he deserved that promotion that would get them the hell out of the trailer park, without his parents' money. His mother was getting into yoga and book clubs, and Steve was being left alone a lot. Because, what kind of trouble could he get into when he was stuck in bed? Besides, the neighbors could hear if he shouted for anything and Wayne seemed very invested in making sure that he was okay.

Steve never knew why the older man made sure that his curtains were always wide open and that his light was on so that others could see that he was reading to him, or talking with him, from a chair that was always at least three feet away. Maybe it was so they would know he wasn’t alone? He wasn’t going to ask about it, not wanting to chance scaring away the one adult who never raised his voice at him, who never abandoned him when things got hard like his grandparents seemed to.

Months went by like this. His parents not being home, his grandparents not even calling about him, and Wayne doing his best to fill in the difference despite his own job. The other neighbors would come on occasion, but Steve was very sullen with them where he would laugh with Wayne. That didn’t deter them from coming over as he would have liked, and begrudgingly he found himself becoming friendly with a few of them.

It was the beginning of summer when Steve was finally able to get the casts removed. His father took him to the appointment, and he tried to not be disappointed that his mother wasn’t there at first. By the time he was wheeled out to the front of the office, though, his mother was sitting where his father had been.

He did his best to not look at himself. He was pale and scrawny and kind of stinky from not being able to wash himself properly because of all the plaster that had basically covered him for over a year. Most of his bones had healed great, according to the doctor. He wouldn’t know because he still hadn’t looked.

His father came back from wherever he had been, paid the bill with tight lips, and then took Steve out to the car. His mother helped him into the seat before covering him with a blanket that he was grateful for. It wasn’t that he was cold, he just didn’t want the chance to look at himself yet. He wanted to do that when he was home, where if he broke down and cried, no one else would know. Or, he wouldn’t have to see them knowing in any case. And that was enough for him.

They stopped for ice cream on the way and Steve asked for a small strawberry cone. Strawberry wasn’t his favorite, but it was what Grandma Marty had all the time, and he missed her even though she didn’t acknowledge him anymore. Wouldn’t answer his calls, wouldn’t call him back. He didn’t even know if she got the letters that Wayne had helped him write.

When they got home, Wayne wasn’t home. Not for the first time, Steve found himself deeply upset by that. He’d never voice it. Adults had responsibilities outside of him. And he knew that he only got about an hour with Wayne a day, maybe two if he was incredibly lucky.

His father came to help him out of the car, because he had more muscle if Steve should happen to fall. He clung to his father’s arm with all the strength that could muster as he walked like a baby giraffe toward their trailer. Well, he called it walking. It was more like wiggling his lower spine and hips while throwing his legs forward. After maybe five steps like that, he found himself being lifted into his father’s impatient arms as he was carried the rest of the way in and sat on the couch.

“Thank you,” Steve said instead of complaining about not being able to use his legs. He had wanted to walk, to prove that he could.

His father simply grunted in response before going to the kitchen to grab a drink. The same way he always did when he was home for the night.

His mother was inside a few minutes behind them, having stopped to talk to a neighbor briefly. She looked at Steve on the couch and tilted her head at him with a calculating look in her eyes.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Yes, please.”

This time, Steve did get to walk on his own two feet to the destination. He was leaning heavily on the wall, almost gripping on to it with one hand as he practically threw himself forward. He was breathless by the time that he got to the bathroom and pain seemed to radiate out through his entire body, starting at his tail bone.

“You can have some meds after your bath,” his mother said gently. “And I’ll get you your refill before dinner, okay? So you don’t have to worry about running out.”

Steve didn’t think it was time to refill his medicine yet, but he didn’t question it. His mom was on top of it. He was a kid who lost track of time a lot.

He sat on the toilet and he watched his mom prepare the bath for him, knowing that she would only let him have the water a little above room temperature. His skin was sensitive and the steam wouldn’t be good for him with the medicine that he was taking. He couldn’t even have hot food without the steam making him nauseous.

Carefully, he was pulled back to his feet and stripped of his clothes before he was helped into the tub that seemed to be more bubble than water. He sat down carefully, wincing a bit as he did so, before letting himself lean back in the water that felt warmer than it probably was because of his weakened, cool skin.

He sighed in contentment as his mother washed his body for the first time in what seemed like years. He was nearing seven years old and thinking about years in the past, it would make his dad laugh if he shared that thought with him, an idea that made him smile.

His mom washed his hair, tilting his head back and using a hand to make sure that no soap got in his eyes that he had squeezed tight. He got to play in the bubbles for a few minutes, his dad standing at the door as his mom got him some comfy clothes and a towel.

It was his dad who dried him off and helped him get into his clothes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said softly. He knew he was expected to thank his dad for everything he did that was above and beyond, which meant he ended up thanking him for everything.

Steve was carried back to his bed, something that he would have whined about if he wasn’t so tired and in so much pain. He was tucked in and his mom came to give him some toast and juice to take his pills with. He knew he was only meant to have one, but he took both that his mother gave him anyway. He washed it away with grape juice and half of the slice of toast she had brought him.

“Thank you, Mommy,” he murmured.

“Get some rest, love,” she replied while kissing his forehead. “You had a big day today.”

Steve nodded in agreement, wishing that it could be that easy to just let the sleep overtake him. He closed his eyes as his mom left the room.

His father checked on him once a day, his mother gave him two pills instead of one, and made sure he at least had breakfast and dinner. One of the neighbors made sure he had lunch and new puzzles to work on, new toys to play with. Steve would wander around the trailer as best as he was able, and Wayne would read to him before he went to bed.

Days turned to weeks like that.

One day, Wayne wasn’t at work and both of Steve’s parents were gone. He wandered over to his bedroom window and opened it wide.

“Mister Wayne, if I can get to the front door, can you help me out?”

His walking was still unsteady and stairs were very difficult for him.

“Are your parents okay with you being outside?” Wayne asked sympathetically.

“Uh. Dad said I could as long as I either finished my puzzle or put it up first.”

Wayne gave him a knowing look. “Okay, you little hellion. But only because I know you’d hurt yourself trying to do it anyway.”

Steve beamed and closed his window most of the way before making his way to the front door. It was a struggle to unlock the door because of the latch chain, but he managed. Wayne was waiting there for him with an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Getting outside used to be easier,” he sighed before reaching out.

“Maybe it’s the weight of knowing that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be,” Wayne teased as he picked Steve up and set him back down on the ground.

“No idea what that means, but thank you for helping me pass the stairs.” Steve grinned widely, the dirt and grass squishing slightly beneath his toes. It felt so good.

“You’re welcome, brat.”

Steve giggled before doing his version of walking. He took maybe ten steps, very much aware of how closely he was being watched. His breath came a little harder from the effort, the times between walking so close together. Shakily, he sat down as carefully as he was able. Movement caught his attention and made his head snap up to look toward Wayne’s trailer.

“You gotta ghost!” He exclaimed.

Wayne laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s the nephew I’ve been telling you about. He’s staying with me for awhile. Treat him like a skittish cat until he’s used to ya, and I’m sure y’all would be good friends.”

“Eddie,” Steve said happily. “Can he come out so I can meet him?”

“I’ll send him out after I smoke my cigarette,” he said as he put more distance between them before lighting up.

“Thank you!”

Steve laid down flat on the grass, spreading his arms and legs out as much as he could without the pain becoming unbearable. It wasn’t very far, but he didn’t care. He got to grip the green strands in his fingers. He got to feel the light and heat of the sun soaking into his skin and settling into his bones. He was beyond convinced that the bright yellow thing in the sky was much more healing than the meds that made him feel tingly from his head to his toes.

He must have fallen asleep like that, because next thing he knew he was being awoken by a toe nudging his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he was met by the most dark, beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Uncle Wayne said you just got released from the mummy’s curse.”

“He said that?”

“Well. He said your name was Steve and you just got a full body cast removed a few weeks ago.”

“That sounds more like him.”

“So…What happened?”

“A lady tried to go bowling with me and her car. The only pin she knocked down was me.”

Eddie snorted. “Shoulda planted your feet more firmly, she woulda gotten a strike.”

Steve’s lips tugged into the widest smile that he had ever had on his face. “My parents don’t like it when I joke about it.”

“Parents are stupid.”

“Yeah. How long are you stayin’?”

“As long as I can.”

Steve hummed in thought. “You any good at reading out loud?”

“Depends. What book?”

“The Hobbit.”

Eddie’s entire face lit up, his huge smile showing off the chipped front tooth. “My favorite book in the entire world? Yeah, I’m pretty good at reading it out loud.”

“We should read to each other. I have troubles with some words, but I am trying.”

“I’d like having someone to read and play with.”

“Oh, uh. Playing is hard for me right now. I’m still trying to get my strength back.”

“It’s okay. We read The Hobbit, we gotta have a pretty good imagination. We can pretend to play.”

Steve blushed and looked away. He never had someone his own age willing to work around his limitations before.

“I heard about a game with dice where we can talk out stuff and the dice decide how well it goes,” Steve said suddenly.

“Dungeons and Dragons!” Eddie apparently decided that he was tired of standing because he flopped down next to him at that. He rolled around in the grass before eventually settling on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I can find a way to make that work with just two people.”

“Oh.”

“Turn that frown upside down, friend. I like a challenge. We’ll make this work because it sounds like fun.”

Steve beamed.

Taglist (let me know if you want added or removed! I was just trying to get who I remembered to seem interested!):

@estrellami-1 @eriquin @epiclazershark @morganski-19 @ellaelsinore @y4r3luv @valinwonderland @thespaceantwhowrites @jackiemonroe5512 @spectrum-spectre @princessstevemunson @ghost--enthusiast @gothwifehotchner @kas-eddie-munson @auroraplume @salisbury-at-the-stake @currently-steddiebrainrot @finntheehumaneater @marshmellowpaint @littlewildflowerkitten @perseus-notjackson @sapphirecobalt-1 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gloomysoup @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steve x eddie #taking my grandparents love story and making it steddie #grandparents love story #lazy petals #no upside down au #read the cw #car accident aftermath #mention of medical abuse #let me know if i missed anything

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