#I should've done it months ago I should've done it I shouldn't have been a fucking IDIOT and think I even have the slightest chance to chang
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had to go and block an irl friend of mine here erg ergerg egr erg
self isolation is crazy
#rambles#ik im isolating and it's not good but God Dammit I don't want to think of anything else rn#there's this heavy weight in my chest that wont go and it's getting heavier the more i think about irl stuff#There's something severely wrong with me.#I won't stop until the face I see in the mirror is unrecognizable.#That's when I know I've done it. I've changed myself so much that I'm finally someone I'm not.#Because I know that's the only way I could be a better person.#I tell them how heavy the weight is but they never understand it and simply chalk it up to me making excuses because I'm /lazy/.#So I don't tell them about it anymore#I'll resolve this on my own. That's why I isolate myself. Don't you get it.#I should've done it months ago I should've done it I shouldn't have been a fucking IDIOT and think I even have the slightest chance to chang#e and be better#because it will never happen.#// vent#vent tag#vent tw#aheemm.. anyways :3 gotta tag this appropriately fr#aheheh
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how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight
gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.
he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.
and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.
you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.
so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.
and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.
sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.
"last night was crazy, huh?"
"..."
"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."
"..."
okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!
plan A--commence!
naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.
all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.
an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!
he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-
oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.
there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.
no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!
galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.
20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.
"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?
he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!
he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.
"hey."
"..." great.
"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."
for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.
"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."
"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."
you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.
"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?
"absolutely."
plan C: success!
who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!
#jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#headcanon#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo fanfic#gojo x gender neutral reader#gojo x y/n#reblog?#please?#this was so much fun to write#i love gojo i just want to punch him (lovingly)#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader
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Day ten of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.
The waitress comes over with another steaming mug of hot chocolate for Kon and Tim awkwardly orders not-Robin's-coffee-order, which since he's panicking he defaults to Caroline Hill's usual for. She's a med student, she drinks enough caffeine for his tastes. And also she likes extremely sugary drinks, which is definitely to his taste.
Look, Robin can't drink an iced brown sugar oat milk espresso with six extra pumps of syrup and four extra shots of espresso, especially in front of the exact teammate who would tease him the most mercilessly for having a finicky drink order, but Caroline Hill can drink anything she wants, and Tim Drake is just gonna be channeling her for this conversation, he guesses. Her Twitter account already got him here to begin with, so he might as well.
“That is a concerning amount of caffeine in one drink, dude,” Kon observes with a raised eyebrow instead of teasing him over either the syrup or oat milk, which is not actually what Tim expected to hear. But, well, he's not Robin right now, so maybe Kon isn't feeling the same urge to start shit that he usually seems to.
Tim's not sure how to feel about that. But Robin is, technically, an “authority” figure and a fellow superhero, and Tim Drake is just some guy, so . . .
Actually, Tim doesn't really know how Kon gets along with civilian guys. He's seen him flirt up plenty of civilian girls, obviously, but he doesn't really seem to talk to all that many guys. Like . . . ever, actually.
Weird, he thinks, repressing a frown.
“How would you know, you're Kryptonian,” he says.
“Half-Kryptonian,” Kon says, then waves a hand around the café. “And like, you know, also this entire planet is full of people who can just tell me these things. Five thousand milligrams is the minimum lethal dose of caffeine for a healthy adult, which is something like seventy-five shots of espresso, but more than four or five shots in a day is still not gonna be great for you, and you just ordered six.”
“. . . how the hell do you just know that off the top of your head?” Tim asks, blinking at him in absolute bewilderment, and Kon smirks in smug amusement.
“Dude, I was programmed by exhausted grad students pulling six months straight of all-nighters,” he says, pointing at his own temple. “I know every possible thing there is to know about every possible caffeine delivery system. Including the illegal ones and the ones the government hasn't yet realized should be illegal.”
“Huh,” Tim says, still more than a little bewildered. That does make sense, he guesses, but since Kon's already told the team he has absolutely no useful background in any kind of science or math past the absolute kiddie-level basics when they were all exchanging information about all their personal training and experience, it's still a surprise to hear. Shouldn't Cadmus have prioritized an actual education over things like safe caffeine intake for baseline humans, especially since Kon's safe intake level is probably different from a baseline human's anyway? Which–well, he guesses Kon did get cracked out of his cloning tube early, but still. They at least should've been building up the basics for him. Like–more than the kiddie-level basics, he means.
Cadmus is definitely not capable enough to be in charge of Kon. Like, at all. Ever. Tim has fewer and fewer regrets about this whole plan every minute, in fact. If anything, he should've started drafting it the day he met Rex Leech, never mind the fact that Kon hadn't technically existed yet at the time. Or after the Poison Ivy incident, maybe. At the least he should've done up an outline or two after he and Kon and Bart had helped Suzie escape recapture and then collectively lied to the government about it.
“You work for those guys, right?” he “asks” as Kon takes a sip of his new hot chocolate, because while the best time to start this whole plan was months ago, the second-best time to start it is now. “Project Cadmus?”
"Yeah," Kon replies, looking a little surprised by the question. Tim reminds himself to con the team into brushing up on the superhero version of stranger danger, because Kon answered that question way too easily. "Well, just started to. I'm a field agent. How'd you know?”
"I've done some research on you since we first met," Tim says, which isn't even a lie; just some careful phrasing. "I really appreciated what you did for me. And to be honest, I think we'd get along."
"Oh yeah? Tell me all about it," Kon says as his posture shifts a little and he flashes him the kind of smirk he normally reserves for, well . . .
Huh, Tim thinks in vague bemusement.
Kon's flirting with him.
. . . huh.
Not actually the angle Tim was intending to take here, but . . . well, he's not above taking it. And anyway, Kon's just a flirt in general, so it's not like it means anything.
Admittedly Tim hasn't actually seen him flirt with a guy before, but presumably Kon's just feeling out an opportunity to experiment or not ready to be out to the team yet. Tim's not, so he'd hardly blame him for that. Tim's not even out to Steph.
And he's definitely, definitely not out to Bruce.
Well, ideally he'll be a supervillain before that becomes necessary, assuming his life goes to plan.
Robin was always going to be a temporary gig, after all.
"I don't know," he says, and lets the corners of his mouth curl up in amusement. "You just seem like my type of guy."
"Your type of guy?" Kon says, his smirk widening as he leans in towards Tim, who decides to pretend that particular bit of flirtatious implication was actually intentional. Tim is . . . not all that great at flirting, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has particularly high standards past “didn't explicitly tell me to fuck off”, so Tim figures he'll be able to get by for long enough to have this conversation.
Not much longer, but all the same. He has a plan to pitch, that's all that actually matters here.
“Yeah,” he says. “And I wanted to thank you for saving me, so . . .”
“You wanna thank me, Tim Drake?” Kon asks with a slower, wider smirk, leaning in a little more again, and Tim instantly turns bright red as he realizes how that actually sounded.
Yeah, okay, he is actually the worst at flirting. Fuck.
“Uh, yes!” he says quickly, very much needing to clarify that statement before his stupid fucking hormones try to talk him into maybe just . . . leaning into that particular miscommunication a little. Not the goal here. Definitely not. “I mean–being a field agent doesn't sound particularly lucrative? And I know being a superhero isn't.”
“Lucrative?” Kon blinks, expression turning puzzled. “I mean, I guess not. I don't need that much money or anything, though, I just live at Cadmus these days.”
“You live in a lab?” Tim says, letting himself sound as incredulously horrified as he felt the first time he heard that. “Why?”
“I dunno, saves me a commute,” Kon replies with a shrug. “Also, like, it's not like I have a credit score to get my own place with. Or a legal identity. Or, you know, money. Landlords tend to want those.”
“Hm,” Tim says. “Do you want one?”
“Huh?” Kon wrinkles his nose in confusion.
“Your own place,” Tim clarifies. “I really would like to thank you. I could help you get a place.”
“Uh, thanks? But I still couldn't afford rent, even if somebody cosigned for me or whatever,” Kon says, looking puzzled. “I really don't make that much.”
“No, I mean I'd pay your rent,” Tim explains, which is in fact an insane person thing to offer somebody, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has all that reliable a grasp of normal social mores. “Or just buy you a place outright and pay your property taxes. Whichever you'd prefer.”
Kon blinks. Tilts his head.
“So like, you're just a very extra dude, huh,” he says after a moment, his eyebrows slowly raising as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “Like you're the guy who blows the budget on the friend group's Secret Santa out of the water every year.”
“Possibly,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish smile. Kon laughs and folds his arms on the table, looking amused.
“You wanna buy me an apartment?” he asks. “What, just for saving your life?”
“I really think you're undervaluing that particular achievement,” Tim says.
“I think you're overvaluing it,” Kon replies with another laugh. “No offense, but I didn't do anything but block one lousy bullet.”
“One lousy bullet is enough,” Tim says, and doesn't think of any bodies he's seen. Kon tilts his head again, then takes a sip of his hot chocolate.
“Okay, fair,” he allows. “But I'm bulletproof.”
“I'm not,” Tim says.
“You were as long as I was touching the same floor as you,” Kon replies with a shrug, and takes another sip. “It wasn't like I did anything hard.”
He hasn't actually said “no” to the apartment. Tim's pretty sure that's just because he thinks he's either ridiculous or just not being serious, but he's not above pressing the advantage anyway.
“You didn't have to do anything at all, though,” he says. "And buying you a place wouldn't be all that hard for me either. Besides, you deserve a little gratitude for your efforts, don't you think?”
"Sounds like supervillain talk, dude," Kon says, his mouth quirking in amusement around his next sip. Tim resolves to dial back on that at this point in his career. He's laying groundwork, yes, but subtlety is still the wiser course of action.
"You say that like you've never socialized with a supervillain before," he counters dryly.
"Well, usually ones who wear a bit less," Kon replies, lowering his mug to grin wickedly at him. Tim figures if a little more flirting might soften him up on this whole idea, well . . .
It's not the most altruistic thing he's ever done for a plan, admittedly, but if it works, it works.
"So you're telling me I should invest in a crop top before I try to take over the world and remake it in my own image?" he asks still more dryly as he raises an eyebrow at Kon with a little smirk, and Kon laughs and leans in a little closer again, giving him a not very subtle up-and-down with his eyes.
"Only if you're trying to recruit me for your evil plans, pretty boy," he says, grin turning sharp. Tim feels vaguely faint, and also wants to lick the bastard's stupid perfect teeth. Jesus. "So I dunno, what are your feelings on Daisy Dukes?"
"I'm going to be honest, I'm not actually that much of an exhibitionist so at this point we're just describing my ideal costume updates for you," Tim informs him.
"Oh yeah?" Kon asks with another laugh even as he straightens back up to visibly preen at the suggestion. Tim is all for that, personally. Both the preening and the theoretical updates, in fact. And, a little more weirdly, just the idea of having anything whatsoever to do with what Kon might ever decide to wear. Especially whatever he might decide to wear for his costume.
Yeah, that's probably a later thought, Tim decides. Like, a private-time kind of later thought. Specifically “behind locked doors in an empty house” private-time, actually.
"You're solar-powered, aren't you?" he says reasonably, because apparently he likes to suffer and also make himself low-key insane. "Showing a bit more skin can't hurt."
"I wonder if Superman would buy that excuse," Kon says musingly.
"Power Girl exists," Tim replies still more reasonably. "And Supergirl wears a miniskirt, last I checked."
"Valid," Kon says, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression and tapping the side of his jaw. "Maybe I'll put in some cutouts and go for a lower neckline, tell the big guy he's making the rest of us look like prudes. What do you think, bikini or high-cut bottoms?"
"I don't know the difference," Tim lies, desperately trying not to overheat and die at that question and every single accompanying mental image that his useless brain has so helpfully decided to supply. "You'll have to provide examples."
"Will I now," Kon says, grinning all over again and pointedly striking a very suggestive pose in his seat. Tim valiantly struggles not to melt. "What, pretty boy, you want a fashion show?"
"Well I did want to be a photographer when I was a kid," Tim says, although it was definitely never that kind of photography he had in mind. Kon laughs again and shifts in closer again, though, so it's worth it. Tim is mortified, but also undeniably into just . . . all of this, really, just everything about this conversation. Robin can't flirt with Superboy, but, well . . . Tim Drake still isn't Robin, now is he?
He's probably taking advantage of the situation a little, Tim can admit to himself, but it's still just . . . nice. He's wanted to flirt with Kon for way too long, at this point. Indulging in a little bit of it isn't the worst thing he could do.
And again, it's Kon, so it's not like it's serious or anything. The guy won't even remember this conversation tomorrow, much less anything about Tim Drake.
. . . admittedly that'd be counterproductive to Tim's long-term goals here, but still. He's willing to take his time on this. There's a plan. It has steps. Layers. Processes.
"I like you, man," Kon says with a wider grin, which is in absolutely no way whatsoever in the plan. "You're funny."
Tim stares blankly at him as it occurs to him, almost disbelievingly, that he might've . . . made a good impression on Kon? Somehow?
Well, that's weird.
"I'll never get a fashion show out of you if I'm not at least funny," he says on autopilot, as someone who's been well-taught both when and how to press an advantage. Kon, yet again, grins at him, and gives him another much brighter laugh than usual.
Actually, he kind of hasn't stopped grinning at him, has he.
Huh.
. . . huh.
Tim really did not plan for this. This is just . . . not at all what the plan was.
“Well, you definitely are funny,” Kon says, biting his lip around a warm little smile and ducking his head just enough to look at Tim from under his lashes, and Tim decides he can probably just amend the plan.
He's a Bat, isn't he? They know how to improvise when they have to.
#timkon#tim drake#kon el#conner kent#dc robin#superboy#long post#rinfic#wip: obligatory sugar baby kon
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unopened backpack - m.s x reader
a/n: ok look, ik vday passed almost a month ago, but this just popped in my head now LOL
warnings/notes: cursing, unpopular matt sturniolo x popular reader, reader has a small tantrum lol
wc: 759
matt's leg bounces under his desk while he messes around with his pencil, drowning out the noise of the teacher rambling about.. his cat? whatever, matt doesn't care. he can't pay attention to anything today. he hates valentine's day. it's his second year of watching you get gifts all day from the jocks to declare their love to you.
pfft. love. they don't love you like he does. he bites his lip, watching the back of your head become the front when you turn around to ask someone for a pencil, which they happily provide. his eyes then turn to the bouquet of roses laying on your desk from that idiot tyler. he shouldn't be giving flowers to you, a precious delicate angel. he should've handed out his dick to the sluts who watch him as he plays football instead.
but who is he to judge? he's a fucking nobody and has been his entire life. he quietly scoffs when the boy sat next to you hands you a $10 bill. he almost lets out a chuckle as you put on a fake smile, taking the money and muttering a small "thank you". what is that guy, new?
seeing everyone else's gifts make his eyes slide over to his closed backpack which contained an assortment of things he knows you like. your favorite chocolates, a handwritten letter, a hello kitty valentine's stuffed animal he found at walmart, and decorative pink tulips since he knew you'd prefer keeping flowers forever.
he sucks in a breath, debating if he should give them to you or throw everything in the trash. either way, he's too pathetic to do both (his mother would definitely complain if he wasted his money on presents and he would get endless teasing from his brothers)
little did he know, you were practically grinding your teeth together impatiently. why hasn't he given you anything yet? why is the one boy you want is disregarding you completely? you mope at the thought of him having a valentine. someone who isn't you.
you look down, tracing the patterns on your girly nails. you huff, waiting for the period to end. when it does, you get out of your seat hurriedly, grabbing your puffer tote bag quickly following him. he goes under the bleachers for lunch per usual, but it's hard to keep up with him in your melanie martinez x KOI shoes. atleast you know where he's going.
you get there out of breath, seeing him sitting criss crossed on the grass. "matthew sturniolo." you pant out.
he looks up in surprise, confused but happy to see you. "hey." he answers bluntly, making your blood boil. "i know you and you know me so why didn't you get me anything? i- i didn't do anything, did i?"
matt raises an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?" he chuckles, which infuriates you. you stomp your foot like a little brat, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. "do you have a valentine? who is it? tell me who, please!" you whine, sitting down next to him. he grins.
"seems like you're upset, princess."
your face softens a little at the nickname. "i am upset!" you blurt, not knowing what else to say. "can you answer me please?" you meekily mutter, looking away from him before you get too embarrassed. he shrugs. his gaze doesn't leave the side of your face as he speaks. "don't have a valentine, dunno who told you i did."
you turn back at this. "oh." you feel hot and awkward now, but he's eating it up. you're jealous of some girl who doesn't even exist? this changes everything! the shyness from earlier leaves matt's head.
"and another thing," he pulls his backpack onto his lap, opening the zipper. "i got you a whole ton of shit." and he shows you the inside of his bag. you gasp excitedly, clapping your hands together adorably.
about 10 minutes later when you're finally done chattering about each of the gifts, matt scratches the back of his head and clears his throat. "d'ya wanna be my valentine?" he mumbles nervously, even though he knows you'll say yes.
"duh!" and you kiss his cheek, his face turning red as you do so. you happily stick a chocolate into his mouth and spend the rest of the day by his side, holding his hand throughout the halls while people pointed and some laughed. you couldn't give a shit less though as you lean joyfully into matt's arm, ignoring everyone else around you but him.
tags:
@stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee
#𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#y/n#reader#fem reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x y/n
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Caught And In Trouble – Steve Harrington
Wattpad Request by i45e679
It should've been weird that I was dating my sister's ex-boyfriend. I didn't mean for it to happen. And to be fair, I had feelings for him long before she even met him. Steve and I were in the same year at school so I've known him since kindergarten. We didn't interact much.
Actually, we didn't interact at all. Not until he and Robin walked into the video store, asking for a job. After Keith hired them, I had a lot of shifts with him. At first, Steve was uncomfortable around me. I wasn't surprised. About three years ago, he dated my younger sister, who broke up with him. Not to mention he risked his life several times to protect my younger brother.
After Steve's first week, I couldn't handle the tension anymore. He wouldn't look at me. He'd barely talk to me. We couldn't keep working like this so I forced him to talk to me. In our conversation, I told him that I didn't care what happened between him and Nancy. He felt better when I said that he was right, not Nancy.
Two months later, Steve and I were working the closing shift. Robin had brought some "medicine" for me. Steve and I ended up smoking it in the supply closet. Sometime between halfway through and done, we ended up making out - heavily making out.
The next day, I avoided him. Wherever he was, I wasn't. If he was accepting a shipment, I was busy helping a customer. When he was checking someone out, I was restocking the returns. It worked until closing.
Before I could leave, Steve stopped me and asked if we could talk about it. Neither one of us started the conversation at first. Finally, Steve blurted that he had feelings for me. I then blurted out that I had feelings for him.
Then came the issue of Nancy.
Instead of dealing with it, we ignored it. We planned to not tell anyone about us. It actually hasn't been that hard. Mike was focused on maintaining his long-distance relationship with El. Nancy was focused on the school paper.
Plus, we worked together so we didn't have to sneak out to be together. We just covered it with work. We took turns bringing or picking up lunch for each other. When one of us was working and the other wasn't, we stopped by. Date nights were nights that we had to do inventory or had a late delivery.
The only person who knew was Robin. She caught on after a week of us constantly switching shifts so we could work together. She didn't like the idea of keeping a secret, but it only took her seeing one of our lunch dates to keep our secret.
I was in the middle of restocking the candy when I felt someone wrap their arms around my waist and start kissing my neck. It was 11 o'clock on a Wednesday. Weekdays weren't very busy.
"You should know," I teased as he continued to make out with my neck, "my boyfriend is grabbing something from the back room and he's gonna be pissed."
"Oh?"
"Yep," I smiled as Steve turned me toward him. "My boyfriend is hella protective."
"Is he?" Steve continued to play along as he pulled me closer and slid his hands down my back.
"Mmhmm," I hummed. I moaned when he reached my ass and squeezed it. "And he has an extremely short temper."
"I do not," he defended himself. I sent him a look that made him laugh. "Okay, fine. I have a short temper. Especially when it comes to someone messing with my girl."
Steve glanced around the empty shop and turned back to me with a playful smirk on his face. I knew exactly what he was going to do, but before I could tell him not to do it, he did it.
He leaned down and kissed me. I knew we shouldn't be doing this at work, but I didn't care. Ever since Steve and I started dating, things have felt easy. Except for the lying to everyone we love part.
We didn't bother to break the kiss as Steve moved us to the back room. He leaned down and picked me up, putting me on the table.
"Steve," I moaned against his mouth, "baby, the store."
He broke the kiss and moved to my neck. He kissed up my neck until he got to my ear. "The store has only been open an hour," he said against my skin. "You know that no one ever comes before 3 o'clock. Plus, it's Wednesday. So, game on."
I gasped when he roughly pressed his lips back to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in between my legs. He grabbed my right one and massaged my thigh as we continued to make out.
Steve broke the kiss and went back to kissing my neck. I moaned as his lips started pushing my v-neck lower. I arched my back, throwing my head back as he got as close to my chest as he could.
"What the shit?!"
We gasped, pulling apart when someone yelled. We looked over to see Mike frozen in the doorway.
"Mike," I stuttered. "I can explain."
"Wow," he said, glaring at me. "Wow, Y/N. I never thought you'd betray your family."
Before I could say anything, Mike turned around and ran out of the store. My eyes burned as I tried to figure out what to do.
"You okay?" Steve whispered.
"This is bad," I mumbled. "Really bad, Steve."
"He's just surprised," he tried to make me feel better. "Give him some time. He'll calm down."
* * * * *
Steve was wrong. Mike didn't calm down. As soon as I got home from work, Mike was gone. He spent the entire week at Dustin's. Every time I called, Mike refused to answer. Steve even tried to go over to Dustin's house but Dustin told him that Mike didn't want to talk.
I went to work at the end of that week exhausted. I ignored Robin as I walked into the back and put my bag in my locker. I closed it and leaned my forehead against it.
"Hey, you," Steve whispered as he walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. "How are you?"
"Horrible," I said, my voice breaking. "Mike still won't talk to me. Dustin and Lucas can't talk to me because Mike won't let them."
"Have you talked to Nancy?"
"No," I sighed. "But I heard Mike telling her the night he found out. I didn't hear her response."
"Y/N. . ."
"We should get back to work," I said, pulling out of his embrace. I went through the rest of my shift with my stomach in knots. While restocking the kid's movies someone walked up to me.
"Welcome to Family Video," I recited. "What can I do for. . ."
I cut myself off when I turned around and saw Nancy fixing her shirt. "What are you doing here?" I couldn't help but ask.
"I figured we should talk," she said lightly.
"Look," I started even though I had no idea how to finish this.
"Let me go first," she cut me off. "I'm okay."
"You're what?"
"I'm okay with you and Steve dating," she continued. "Steve and I were over long ago. We're just friends and if you care about him then I support you guys."
I didn't know how to respond. Instead of saying anything, I wrapped her in a hug. She laughed as she hugged me back.
"You're really okay with this?"
We pulled out of our hug and saw Steve walking out of the back office. Nancy looked between me and him and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay," she said. "Besides, it's clear that you guys are a better couple than we ever were. Plus, you make my sister happy. How can I be upset?"
"Thanks, Nancy," Steve sighed. He sent me a wink before heading to the front desk to help a customer.
"Hey," Nancy said, lowering her voice. "Mike is being stupid, okay? He just needs to calm down."
"I guess," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "But how long will that take?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. "He wasn't too happy when I dated Steve. And with you now dating him. . . Mike is just confused and angry that you kept a secret. Give him time."
Later that night, Steve was in the back accepting a delivery. I was checking the returns for damages. Suddenly the bell above the door rang.
"Sorry, we're closed."
"We need to talk."
I looked up to see Mike standing in the doorway. "Hey," I said under my breath.
"I'm sorry about the other day," he forced out. "I didn't love that Steve and Nancy were together and then I found out you had started dating him. It was weird but. . . I talked to Steve."
"Wait, what?"
"Steve came by the house the other day," Mike explained. "He told me that things were different between you two. He promised me that this was for real."
"So you're okay?" I asked slowly.
"Yes," he nodded. He quickly added, "As long as I don't have to see or hear anything."
"I promise," I chuckled. "Thank you, Mikey."
Mike hugged me before leaving. I started chewing on my bottom lip as I wondered what Steve could've possibly said to my brother.
"You okay?"Steve asked as he walked back into the store. I turned around and ran toward him. He laughed as I jumped into his arms.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"For what?"
I pulled out of our hug and looked up at him. "Mike stopped by," I explained. "He said you talked to him. I don't know what you said to him, but thank you."
"Of course," he shrugged as he moved some hair out of my face. "It was killing me that you were struggling so much. I couldn't have my girl blaming herself."
"Thank you," I whispered again. I bit my lip before forcing myself to confess to him. "I love you, Steve."
Steve leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. I tightened my arms around him as I kissed him back.
"I love you too, Y/N."
#steve harrington imagines#steve x reader#steve harrington#stranger things imagine#strang#joe keery x reader#joe keery
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I Want You | ELIJAH HEWSON
PAIRING : elijah hewson x original f!character
GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers
SUMMARY: dahlia jenkinson, josh’s sister is asked to fill in as photographer at his bad’s concert. her plan is to ask him out by the end of the show as she’s been crushing on him for ever. what she doesn’t expect is that one of their songs was written about her—and she’s right there when he confesses it.
WORDS: 5.6k
WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, kissing
Friday. Underground. London.
I run through the station passing the endless people, posters and children's screams. My brother, Josh, had asked me yesterday to help out at his band's concert. He'd told me that their photographer had gotten COVID so he needed someone to fill in.
I dragged my roommate along with me as my moral support, seeing as she's heard me spill every secret in my mind about the band's lead singer, Elijah. I've been helping Josh with his band's endeavours for years and have also had to condone countless sleepovers. I've had the sound of drumsticks crashing together engrained in my head by this point. Robyn has always told me to 'stop being a pussy and ask Eli out on a date' but honestly, I'm terrified I'll ruin everything. This photography thing has really helped to get me new jobs and more exposure.
"So, you still crushing on Eli?" Robyn asks. She's been glancing over at my phone for the past few minutes. I've been texting the band group chat that I've been added to. They usually kick me out randomly. This is the longest period of time I've been in it without having an argument. I'm pretty proud.
"Shut up." I scoff. "If you dare say anything to any of of them, I will kill you."
"I wouldn't," she laughs. I give her a look. "I'll try not to..."
"You and your big mouth."
"I can't help it."
"I shouldn't tell you things."
"Who else would you tell?" She grabs at my phone, noticing a message from Elijah pop up.
It reads: "Missed you. You've always been the better Jenkinson." I try to contain my smile at the stupid message. It's just a couple words beneath a name on a screen and I'm getting all nervous. It's pathetic. God, this is getting bad.
"That's cute," Robyn says and is about to start writing a message back until I snatch my phone back. Who knows what kind of bullshit she'd start sending. She'd surely send some terrible pictures of me. That's happened on many ocassions. I've learnt my lesson to never trust her with my phone.
"Cringe." I type back, although the smile on my face is betraying the words on the screen. I stare at his profile picture for a few seconds. It's a selfie of me and the band. I look half asleep, probably drunk. Eli's hair is all over his face and Josh is squeezing Ryan's cheeks. Bobby is just angrily staring at the camera. He definitely didn't want to be in that photo. It's sweet that Eli has kept his profile picture that way for so long. We haven't seen each other in months. I send another message, "Well you're not my favourite Hewson."
He sends an angry emoji. "Who is then?"
"Bono, course."
He sends a few more angry emojis before spamming the group chat. There is already some kind of argument happening. Robert seems to be late and they're all asking where he is. I switch my phone off, sliding it into my pocket. Robyn's been unusually quiet.
"What have you done this time?" I ask with a subtle tilt of my head. She's chewing on some haribos she'd bought moments ago. She then smirks to herself, "Nothing."
I'm a little worried but decide to brush it off. We leave the train station and I'm struck by the freezing air. I sometimes forget how cold England is. Having moved from Ireland over a year ago, I feel like I should've acclimatised. But, why is it always so cold? I hold my jacket closer to myself to try to warm up.
We pass at least ten people with 'I love London' shirts. Sounds of street sellers are familiar along with the hustle and bustle of late London nights. I see the London Eye twisting in the distance. Big ben is tolling. The venue comes into view a few streets away. I'm dreading it slightly. I feel as if I'm not going to cope this time seeing that ever-so-familiar face. It's as if with each passing month, he gets better looking. It should be crime. I'll probably melt when I see him.
I instead focus on seeing Josh and my excitement for seeing the gig. They've all really improved over the years. They really know how to put on a good show. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. It'll be fine. Surely.
"You're nervous, aren't you?" Robyn takes notice of me fiddling with my earrings. It's become some nervous habit. I find a comfort in twiddling the crystals between my fingers.
"A bit," I say. Honest. "What if he finds out? We'll surely get piss-drunk. What if he only wants to be mates?"
"Lia, darling, you've got to stop overthinking it. After hearing all these stories you've told me, it sounds like he likes you a lot," she says, grinning. "I'll tell you if I see any looks passed or anything suspicious, okay?"
"You're the best." I give her a hug, forgetting for a moment about the crowded streets around us. Robyn hugs are always too good to be true. I sometimes forget how unbelievably short she is and how she tries to suffocate me with her arms.
Just as we're about to continue down the endless streets, I see someone running past us. I barely even realise he's passed me until Robyn points him out. I see long, curly hair and a massive case swung over his shoulder. Bobby. Then, he turns to face us. Blue eyes catch me off guard then a massive grin. He seems to question whether he should stop or get to the venue. He's very late.
"Is that the bassist?" Robyn wonders. "Robert?"
"That's me," he says, retracing his steps. His mullet has gone all messy in the autumn wind. He's trying to swipe away a few stray hairs from out of his face. "Hey Dally. Who's this?" He points towards my friend with a lazy smile.
"This is Robyn. My roommate. She's the one who accidentally stepped on a pigeon."
"Ah." He then turns into his bird lover mode. "How could you do that to a poor, helpless bird? How could you? Can't believe you're called Robyn. That's a disgrace. Wish I was called Robyn. Or sparrow. Or some kind of bird. God, do I love birds—"
"Okay, Robert. We get it," I interrupt with a finger in the air. He crosses his arms over his chest, pouting. Robyn is laughing at his angered demeanour. He always puts on this irritated-sarcastic face in moments like this. He looks like a child after stepping on lego.
"Aren't you late?" Robyn asks the blue-eyed boy. His phone has been pinging with notification throughout the few minutes they have been walking together. He seems to be a little stressed. I have to almost run to keep up with this speed of impossibly long legs.
We approach the venue. It's a huge, pretty rundown building which strikes out in stark contrast to the fancy buildings around it. The words 'Inhaler:tonight' are written on a chalkboard beside the entrance. The place really matches the band for some reason. There's a queue of fans outside. A lot of them are sat down on the pavement. They scream at the sight of the bassist, piling around him. Phones are being held up to take pictures of him.
"Sorry guys, I've got to get inside. Thank you for coming," Robert mumbles.
Robyn and I act as body guards, preventing anyone from getting too close. Banners have been dropped onto the ground, passersby glance over in confusion. There's colourful cowboy hats covered with jewels everywhere. That music video really drove the world crazy. It definitely drove me crazy. I probably make up at least half of the views.
The majority of the crowd continue to take photos. Some say 'Oh my God, that's Josh's sister!' I give them a smile whilst simultaneously pushing Robert forwards.
We finally get to the back door. The gathering give up after a while. They go back to the queue, attempting to slot in to their previous place.
"Well, doors haven't opened yet so you can't be that late," I remark. The front doors are still locked.
"I'm missing sound check though."
I hear music booming quietly through the walls. I open the door, pressing down on it with fingertips. It creaks open to a long corridor with white plastered walls. It smells of fresh paint. The light is barely even attached to the ceiling. It looks like some horror film scene. Creepy.
But then Josh comes around the corner. His guitar is slung over his chest and his face lights up to reveal a huge smile that I've always adored. He's taller than the last time I've seen him. He runs straight towards me, engulfing me with his arms. I'm uncomfortably pressed against his guitar but I couldn't care less. I'm so glad I came. I missed him so much.
Robert slides past us and Robyn awkwardly stands in the doorway. I introduce her to my brother. He gives her a hug as well. She seems to enjoy this whole situation a lot. She's getting all loud and giddy.
The rest of the band are still playing through songs. They're running through 'Dublin In Ecstasy'. Elijah's voice is echoing through the entire building, sliding it's way through my skull. There's a part of me that wants to turn back. I could just make my way back to my apartment, have a cup of coffee and stalk Twitter accounts of people who went to the show. I definitely haven't been doing that for the past few months. I'm not that insane. Or obsessed.
"Do you want to listen to sound check or hang out back stage?" Josh asks us. He's been talking to Robyn, getting to know her and she seems to like him, thankfully. It'd be downright awkward if she hated his guts.
"I'll follow you," Robyn says to Josh. She starts to traipse down the corridor. I watch her curls bounce from side to side as she jumps with every step. She suddenly realises that she's left me behind. "You coming?"
I groan, staring at the door. "Yeah. Fuck it."
I pick up my camera in preparation. I've been using the same one for years. It's got stickers all over it. Some of random bands, some from different countries and little letters spelling out my name. Elijah had bought me a few pages of letters of the alphabet as a birthday present when I turned 15. I still remember that day. We were all huddled inside my living room after being drenched by a sudden storm. There were about fifteen of us, including the band. The fireplace before us was the only source of light in the darkened room. I think I was dating Ryan at that point. That was a strange time. He was sweet. It only lasted a couple of weeks. Elijah had a girlfriend too. Younger me was very jealous. I think that's what made me realise I liked him.
Now, fast forward eight years and my heart is beating in my ears like I'm a teenager all over again.
I allow Robyn to go first. I trail behind. Josh has left us to our own devices and we try to figure out where exactly we're supposed to go. We decide to follow the sounds of music booming. Closer and closer. We go down a staircase, open a door then we're right at the stalls, just beneath the stage. The door crashes so loudly that all of the band stop playing. They all peer down at us.
The band name 'Inhaler' is upon the wall and coloured lights paint the stage. This room is a lot nicer than the exterior. There's a standing area then seats up along the top. The walls are painted a deep shade of crimson with gold lines intricately painted everywhere. It's too good to be true. It feels so weird being at one of their gigs again. It feels even weirder to see all of them in the same place at the same time.
I trace my gaze along the stage. I take a quick glance at Josh who is tuning his guitar, then Ryan who's staring at us with wide eyes. I shift my eyes a little further to see Elijah. He's dropped his mic at the sight of us. I take notice of the length of his hair. It's falling over his eyes, a mess of curls shrouding his face. He's wearing a white vest top and a bulky blazer which is holding onto his shoulders for dear life. I can't see him very well from here. What I can see is the complexity of his gaze. The way he's looking at me is making me nervous. I take a deep breath.
"Dahlia?!" Ryan calls out. He drops his drumsticks similarly to Elijah.
"Surprise?" I say. I thought Josh had told them I was coming. "Wait, did Josh not tell you?"
Elijah picks up the microphone from the ground, not taking his eyes away from mine. "Josh, you gobshite. I thought she was coming next week," he says into the mic, words jumping through my ears. I hate how warm his voice is through those speakers. It's sickening.
"Well, I'm not complaining." Ryan jumps down from the stage, giving me and Robyn a hug. It's a group hug where we're all squashed together. He's grinning from ear to ear.
"You're still short," I say. I can still look down on him, especially with my chunky boots. He rolls his eyes. "This is Robyn." I introduce my roommate to both Ryan and Elijah.
"Nice to meet you," Elijah murmurs as he jumps off the stage. He's left the mic on the stand. He's pushing his hair from his face.
Robyn gives me a look, raising an eyebrow in the direction of Elijah. She's got a malevolent smile. What's she going to do? Maybe I shouldn't have brought her.
"I've heard all about you." Robyn gives Elijah a little wink. I kick the back of her leg .
His lip raises the slightest bit. I find myself staring at his mouth for far too long. There's stubble lining his chin and a splatter of freckles on his cheeks. "Have you, now?" His low voice drifts through the air. He's maintaining eye contact with me. I'm trying to evade his gaze.
"She's exaggerating." I assure him, trying to stop myself from giving Robyn another thwack.
"Eli! We have like 5 minutes until door opens and Dublin In Ecstasy is a mess. Get up here. You can swoon later." Robert is already playing the introduction to the song. Ryan and Josh join in.
"Swoon?" Eli shakes his head with a grin.
"We're just that amazing," Robyn whispers to me.
I hold up my camera, taking a picture of the three lads on stage. Then I point it at Elijah. I take a few of his confused face before he leaves us to sing along to the music.
"He's whipped." Robyn watches as he climbs back onto the stage. "Likes you so much he can barely even function-" She points out how he can't even plug his guitar in. He's been trying to shove the lead in for a while but his eyes are wandering elsewhere. "You've got to say something to him. He's leaving tomorrow, isn't he? Maybe tonight.."
I breathe in. "Alright. I'll try."
Robyn and I hum along to the tune. Elijah's rough vocals make my mind go cloudy. He sounds so much crisper in person. I think back to the cuts and bruises vinyl on my shelf. Robyn had bought it the day it came out. Josh sent me every version possible. Robyn went on about supposedly being 'the first person in the world who bought it'. She said she saw the record in HMV and instantly thought of me. We had stayed up late that night to listen through each track. Eating popcorn, drinking alcohol, talking about random shit. That was when I told her everything about Elijah. From the schoolgirl crush, to the trying to forget him then to the full-blown infatuation. She enjoyed listening to every detail I had to offer.
Elijah continues singing. I'm holding my breath, my palms are sweaty, I feel my heart pulsing at my throat. Robyn is swaying to each beat of the drums. Elijah won't stop looking at me.
Then the song ends and we all tun backstage, in an attempt to evade the incoming fans. I hear shouts echoing in the distance. We've gathered in a little room backstage. Josh is showing me some fancy chocolates he bought in Rome. I'm taking pictures of the band members. Robyn keeps photobombing. I rest my head upon the armrest of the sofa, closing my eyes. It feels nice. Calm. Until, someone settles beside me. They grab my legs so that they can properly sit down. The hands are cold and fingertips are calloused. That someone is Elijah. "Excited for the show?"
He's got his pre-show drink in one hand and his phone in the other. I close my eyes once again.
I shift around in the soft cushion attempting to get into a more comfortable position. He scoffs and pulls my legs up by the ankles to rest them over his thighs. "I know you're tired," he says. He takes a sip of his drink. "But if you dare fall asleep during the show, I will throw my guitar at you." I move my legs around his thighs then actually raise my head to look at him. I take a picture as he makes a stupid face. I don't know how he can do that whilst still looking pretty.
"Is this comfortable?" I ask. He's been very still. "I can move if you want."
"It's nice... fine," he mumbles as he scrolls through messages on his phone. "Reminds of that music lesson. Must've been our first year of secondary school. You fainted after some practice test we did. We were sat in this exact position for at least an hour. I think my legs stopped working."
I try to bring my head back to the memory. He was so different back then. Shorter hair, insanely asthmatic. He only knew me as Josh's twin sister. Somehow that was enough for him to stay there with me and keep me safe. After that, he had some complex where had to look after me with his life. It was charming.
"I had to kick you about nine time because you feel asleep, " I recall. My mind is wandering through moments I can barely even remember. "You were so strange."
"I could've left you there in the practice asleep. You should be thanking me for saving you from embarassment-"
"Why, thank you. Oh how you've changed my entire life. I owe you all that I have."
He shakes his head, squeezing the skin at the bottom of my ankle. He then rests his hand there. As if it's normal. He's still reading through messages, biting the top of the plastic cup.
"When do you lot go on then?" I ask everyone.
Robyn has started drawing eyeliner onto the other boys. She just pulled it out of her pocket randomly and asked if they wanted her to do it. They've filed into a queue. She's done some graphic liner on Bobby with little stars that makes his bright eyes pop out all the more.
"Ten minutes." Ryan is putting some hair gel through his hair. He puts some music on using a bluetooth speaker they placed in the corner. Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley comes on. I'm trying to stop myself from falling asleep but it's getting harder with each passing second.
"I'm so excited," Robyn says as she does Josh's eyeliner. She's made his more smudgy and messy. It suits him a lot. "Elijah, should I do yours? Or Dahlia can do it?" She passes the tube towards me. There's some malicious intent behind her eyes. I narrow my eyes down to the black contraption, taking it uneasily between my fingers.
He lays down his phone and drink. He's trying to push all the hair out of his face to give me some access to his eyes. I kneel down on the sofa beside him. I grab a hair bobble from my wrist then tie the top half of his hair up. He groans as I pull some strands way too hard then relaxes into my touch. He smells like cigarette smoke and cologne.
"How should I do it?" I wonder out loud. I've opened the tube and I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about this. He looks like his teenage self with his hair like this. His eyes are maintaining a hard eye contact as I near him. There's a warmth rising to my face.
Robyn pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of Rodrick Hefley. I snort. "Try it like that," she says.
Elijah closes his eyes as I begin to draw little lines then smudge. I've grabbed his chin to keep him in place. I can feel the sharp stubble poking at my fingers. He opens his eyes every now and then. They're half-lidded, watching. I poke his eye by accident. I scold him for opening his eyes. He decided to instead keep them closed.
I admire my work once I've done. It's not my best liner but it's alright. The other boys gather around to get a look at him. His hazel eyes come into view and he smiles widely at the sight of us all. "Does it look good?"
"Looks class," Ryan says as he grabs a mirror. The other boys nod along.
Elijah looks at himself. He seems to not know if he likes it or not. He smiles at me and says, "Thanks, love."
I just smile back, pulling out the bobble from his hair. An unruly splatter of curls cascade across his forehead. There's something about him wearing eyeliner that's stopping me from thinking straight. It's different. I'm still sat half on top of him, one knee resting on his thigh and the other on the sofa. He helps me off of him then stands up.
He ruffles his hair as he says, "Let's get going lads."
The four boys grab everything they need for the show. Water bottles, instruments, drumsticks, their sanity. They all give each other a group hug. It must be some pre-show ritual because they all down their drinks at the exact same time. If that wasn't planned, it was uncanny.
"Good luck." I wave them off and they travel down the corridor in a straight line. As each of them walk out, I take a picture. Elijah is the last to leave. He stops in the doorway, still holding his plastic cup. He raises his lip to reveal his white teeth as I take the picture. He really enjoys making the strangest faces.
"If you don't get our best angles, I'll have to think about firing you." Elijah warns me just before he turns around. He then disappears down to another asylum-like corridor before I can get a chance to insult him. I let out a breath.
"That went well, right?" Robyn's trying to figure out what's going through my head. I can't even comprehend anything that just happened. The feel of his hand still lingers at my ankle. "That whole time you were talking to Josh about those chocolates, he was staring you down. It was pretty creepy, to be honest." She laughs. "Don't even get me started on the eyeliner. All of us felt like total third wheels."
"Sorry," I say. I play around with the bobble at my wrist. It had been wrapped around those glorious curls only moments ago. "God, I'm so in love it hurts."
"That's how I felt when I started liking Emmy. Literally all I could think about was her." Robyn is in a daze, eyes glued to the wall. "You need to do something before it's too late."
"After the set, I will tell him." I finally accept my fate. I could possibly not see him until next year. Or the year after. Who knows how busy I could get?
"Good," Robyn says. "I'm tired of hearing Elijah this Elijah that. Girl, I get it."
"You had an Emmy this Emmy that phase. Don't even start."
She frustratedly sighs. "Come on. I think they're going on."
I hear the crashing of drums reverberating through every wall, every floorboard. Slowly, we approach the main room. The bodyguard lets us through to the wings of the stage. I can see all the crowd from this angle. There are phones, cowboy hats and banners littered through the crowd. Some of the audience are people we had seen when Bobby was surrounded. They're screaming at the sight of the band.
The first song they play is These Are The Days. I keep my camera handy through every song. Elijah takes notice of us standing there. He steals a glance at us when he has a chance to breath. He's singing a lot stronger than I'd ever seen online.
Then they play through a few more songs on the new album. I sing along, I dance, I try not to get blinded by the flashing lights. Then all of a sudden they've finished playing Love Will Get You There and he turns to look right at me.
"This next song..." His words are pretty slurred. He's drunk. "This is an old one. I wrote this when I was about 17. There was this girl at my school who I just liked so much— I couldn't even focus in class. I played it to her once we'd got it perfect and she had not a single clue that it was about her. She still doesn't. It's been six years and I've never told her." He pauses and looks at me. "This is for you."
I'm overwhelmed by emotion. I raise an eyebrow at him. He just starts strumming along with his guitar. That's when I realise he's playing I Want You. They'd played that song to me in Elijah's garage. I asked him who it was about. He lied and said it was about his ex-girlfriend. I never thought twice about it. I never listened to it because it made me sick to my stomach that it was about her. A girl who I had been so jealous of.
"You got your lipstick on..." He starts singing. He's literally pointing at me. The crowd looks confused. They can't see me.
"Oh, Jesus," Robyn exclaims. "Oh, wow. I can't believe this. He's fucking confessing! Dally, I'm so happy for you right now. What the hell!"
Robyn is just as shocked as I am. We're both slack-jawed, wide-eyed yet caught in a silence as the song goes on. The crowd sings along with each and every line. The other members of the band have caught on with what is happening. They all seem to be pretty proud. Especially Josh. He's smiling so big it's making me smile too.
The truth is, I don't want the song to end. Or the show. I just want this moment to drag on forever. It all feels too good to be true.
The song finishes, the lights switch off, the crowd screams. I'm left in the darkness. Robyn is holding onto my side for dear life. The only thing illuminating the world around us is a tiny light bulb above us. My eyes start to get used to the darkness. I see a figure approaching.
"Can you come with me?" It's Elijah. His cheeks are tinged a shade of bright red. There's sweat lining his throat and his chest. He's taken off the blazer and has slung it over his shoulder. The eyeliner has bled down a little.
"Yeah..." I'm exasperated. My throat is raw from singing so much. My brain can barely process what is happening around me. My hands want to reach out and hold him close to me.
He grabs my hand, pulling me down through a corridor. We're both running towards the back door. I'm trying to match his pace but his longer legs give him an unfair advantage.
We finally reach the exit. He opens the door for me, allows me to pass through then shuts it. I'm met by London streets. Brick walls, crooked alleyways, a rubbish bin. It's not particularly romantic. But, with him standing there in front of me, it becomes the most romantic place on Earth.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," he admits. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you when you left. I was going to tell you at the airport when you were about to leave Dublin. So that you could think it through without us seeing each other every day. Then I got fucking terrified."
"I was going to tell you then too." I press my back against the wall. He's pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He offers me one. I let it rest between my lips. "I had plucked up some courage after I went to the toilet but then I sat beside you and forgot the whole script I'd planned out in my head. That was a pretty awkward five minutes. Felt like a century."
"We're idiots, aren't we?" He says as he lights his cigarette. "Josh has always known. I don't know how he never told you. He's great at keeping secrets. Six years of keeping his mouth shut. I don't know how he has that much self control."
"Six years?" I blow out a puff of smoke into the air. My eyes wander across the star covered sky. The moon is looming and watching us.
"I know." He's blushing again. He's trying to keep his distance from me, leaving a slight gap between us. "I'm pathetic."
"I liked you for longer."
"What?"
"Eight years. Since the day you started dating the blonde girl." I feel stupid saying it out loud. He's laughing at me.
"That's class."
We stand there in silence just looking at each other. I can hear ambulance sirens and birds calling. The brick walls is hard against my back. My shoes are covered in water from standing in a puddle. I can imagine that there's a camera above us. This could be a scene straight out of a film.
"Are you going to kiss me then?" Some sudden burst of confidence brings those words from my lips.
He's taken aback. His eyes fall down to my mouth. He then takes a step closer. I can feel his breath at my cheeks.
"Do you want me to?" His voice goes all low and his accent gets thicker. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek. Metal presses against my cheekbone. His thumb lazily draws a line across my bottom lip. His words hang in the air. "Dahlia, my love. Do you—"
I press my lips to his. I can't hold back anymore. I can taste the smoke on his tongue. His mouth is minty and his lips are soft. I've imagined this moment countless times. In a bookstore, in a train station, in the garage. But, this is perfect. Perfect.
My fingers sink into his hair. He groans into my mouth as I pull a few strands at the back. His thumb is sliding across my cheekbones. He's dropped the cigarette to instead use his other hand to clutch my waist. My hands are at his chest. His heart is beating incredibly fast. He holds me tight against him until I feel his chest rise and fall. Up and down. Breathing in and out.
We hear voices behind us. He pulls away quickly. We both turn to see a group of fans. They're teenagers and they're all dressed in bright outfits. They didn't see anything but they seem rather suspicious, whispering.
"Eli! Oh my God!! Can you take my BeReal please?" One of them shouts over.
Elijah runs his fingers over his lips. His ears are a pink shade. He slides his hand away from my waist.
"Yeah, sure!" He approaches the three girls with a small smile. He's trying to act normal. "I love your hats." He points at the 3 cowboy hats which spell out the word 'Inhaler' when they're all stood side-by-side.
"Thank you so much!" The darker haired girl passes him her phone. "Your eyeliner looks so good. You should do it like that more often."
"I had a grand makeup artist." He winks. I roll my eyes.
"Could Dahlia be in it?" The girl with glasses notices how I've awkwardly shifted to the side.
"Course she can," Elijah says.
I stand in the frame next to Elijah as he holds up the phone. His lips are red after being stained by my lipstick. I drop my head onto his shoulder and close my eyes. He nestles his face into my hair as he takes the picture. We're both giggling like lunatics.
I'm so glad it happened like this.
#inhaler#elijahhewson#imagines#inhalerimagines#fanfiction#romance#bobbyskeetz#robert keating#elijah hewson#josh jenkinson#inhaler imagines#inhaler oneshots#inhaler dublin#inhaler band#eli hewson#ryan mcmahon
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I never let myself really believe they'd bring Tech back (because Occam's razor, or whatever). And I'm so used to weird/bad writing choices from other works that I'm mostly able to shrug my shoulders and go "aw rats, disappointment again :\" about TBB's ending.
... But I still feel kinda hollowed-out, post-finale. I'm not autistic (I think), but my sibling is, so it meant something to my old withered heart that a Star Wars show about family would have a confirmedly-ND character among their cast (though, somewhat tangentially, I agree with your post about all of the Bad Batch being arguably ND-coded). I was delighted that he was well-written, and that he'd eclipsed the stock "smart guy" trope he'd started out as in TCW.
And, I dunno. I feel like a sucker, having hoped for a brief moment that the writers wouldn't throw all that away. And for what? People on reddit were saying for months on end that "his sacrifice is meaningful and shouldn't be wasted", but I can't agree. I think it would've been more meaningful had he lived.
I feel disappointed with the trajectory the back half of S3 took, and I don't think that's unreasonable. Even beyond the disappointment of "dang, they really did that?", S3 after the first handful of eps (imo) felt kind of... rushed? Underexplored? Like there should've been a season 4 (for pacing/development's sake) and various changes to the plot, but there weren't.
Told myself several years ago that I'd reserve judgment for the writing until the series was over and done with. And now that it's all just wrapped up, I suppose I'm stewing with my thoughts, a little. The character arcs all feel like they fell short of their potential payoff, to me -- and maybe I'll change my mind in a few months, but right now? Eh.
Crosshair's got PTSD/trauma that makes his hand shake? Cut off the hand. Omega's got potential force sensitivity/a decision to make concerning what to do going forward? Who cares about that. Tech's getting a decent (and suspicious, in hindsight) amount of character development? Better kill him off so the audience really feels the sting. Cid, Phee, CX-2, Echo, Scorch? Who cares about them; they can show up when their skills are needed and fuck off without halfway-decent closure when they aren't. The familial/sibling themes that were open to being explored? Eh; let's focus predominantly on this one father-child bond. Omega doesn't even need to say goodbye to Crosshair and Wrecker, lol. Foreshadowing and setup? What foreshadowing and setup.
... I'm realizing that I'm actually Quite disappointed lmao. In a lackluster "I don't know what I expected" kind of way. Time to read so many fix-its
There's just a lot that was set up that never came to fruition and it's frustrating when the show has been so good up until that point. And the thing is that Tech being CX-2 would have resolved at least some of it! The CX-2 plot obviously but also, Crosshair's guilt and trauma being helped by being able to fix at least one of his mistakes? Omega's guilt over putting her family in danger being relieved because she finally has them all back?
It didn't even need to be fleshed out, I wouldn't have cared. The only thing I wanted this whole show was the family to be together and complete. And not only did we not get Tech back but yeah Echo was basically just not counted as part of that and Phee was ignored in the end.
This season feels like it needed another editing pass to work as a whole, even though I'd liked everything up to the finale it didn't really end up coming together for me. I'd even have accepted Tech being gone if they had put actual mourning in the first half, instead of stringing it along with little mentions and the CX-2 stuff. I'd be frustrated and mad, but at least it would have felt like they respected him as a character.
Really the only good things I have to say is I think Nala Se blowing up the databanks was a fantastic end to her character that didn't really redeem everything she's done but did bring her to an interesting stopping point. And I am glad everyone else made it out alive. I'm glad that Crosshair especially did after everything he's been through, he's still my boy after all this time even if the Tech stuff has overshadowed a lot of his growth in my head.
#the bad batch#the bad batch spoilers#tbb spoilers#fandom salt#If anyone wants me to add a different tag to block these out with let me know#I know that it's a lot of feelings all over the place and I don't want to bother anyone who did enjoy the finale
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Hi! Can I request reader x eddie when he comforts her after bad hairdresser appointment?
A few weeks ago it happends to me and my hair is now red but with brown in front part. Kinda alternative style but I wanted to be ginger so bad. Also hairstylist was the meanest person I've met. I spent there 10 hours, it was super expensive 😫
How Eddie would react?
I am so sorry you had that experience!!! I had a similar experience a few months ago and it was horrible!
Eddie knew you were super excited to go get your hair done. You had been saving for months and you went with your friends' advice and ended up making an appointment with a high-end stylist. It's been months since you A. got your hair done but also B. pampered yourself. Eddie tried to convince you to go and get your nails done and just spend the day spoiling yourself but you were already spending so much on your hair that you couldn't bring yourself to do anything else that wasn't necessary.
Your appointment was early in the morning, you wanted to go a completely different color so you knew you needed to get in as soon as possible to try and get it achieved. You woke up excited and positive. You were confident that today was going to be a great day!
Oh, how you were wrong.
You got there early and your stylist wasn't there yet, but you brushed it off since you were ten minutes early. The first red flag should've been when the time your scheduled time came and your stylist wasn't there. But again you brush it off thinking anything could've come up. Could be traffic, maybe they overslept, maybe they had a kid and were busy with that...but they do show up and you try to just shake it off. This isn't going to mess up your day.
It's been nearly 5 hours and you were starting to get overstimulated. (this happens to me all the time when I get my hair done!) You felt yourself getting antsy and could feel the tightness in your chest forming. You tried to suggest a break, and you made some excuse saying you needed the bathroom but your stylist just blew you off. "Just wait. If you go now we're going to have to start all over again" They snapped, rolling their eyes. You nod feeling tears starting to build. Your perfect day wasn't going the way it was planned, even though a break would help calm you down you couldn't handle having to go through this process again so you decided to just wait. It shouldn't be much longer....right?
It was so much longer! With how they sounded when you asked for a break you thought another 20 minutes tops not another 5 hours! By the time you were done, Eddie was blowing up your phone wondering if you were okay and if you really did have to pee now. You responded to Eddie saying that it just took longer to get your hair the color that you wanted and you'd be home soon. But as the chair turned around for you to look in the mirror you felt your heart drop. This isn't what you wanted at all! The tightness in your chest forms once again and tears race to the surface. Your stylist doesn't ask if you like it, or if anything needs to be fixed, they just yank the smock off of you and walk to the front to check you out. You stand up with shakey legs and run a hand through your hair. They scoff seeing you still back at their station, "Will you come pay? You've already taken my whole day I'd like to head home now." You take a deep breath trying to not burst into tears and go to pay before rushing to your car.
You sit in the parking lot for a few minutes trying to ground yourself before heading home.
Eddie hears your car pull in and he jumps off of the couch to greet you. You were gone all day and he missed you so much but he is so excited to see your hair, he knows how much you wanted a change, how excited you were, and how difficult it is for you to spend money on yourself so he was just excited for you. His smile drops however when he sees you walk through the door. You walk straight into his arms and try not to cry as he holds you. "Oh, baby..." He mutters as you fight the tears. "It's dumb really...it's just hair I shouldn't be so upset..." You explain through a cracking voice but he knows this is so much more than hair. "No no, don't think like that sweetheart, it's okay to be upset, it didn't go as planned. It's okay to be upset." He holds you and rocks you softly back and forth as you two stand in the hall. He kisses your head and smiles "It still looks super metal on you babe" He says grinning from ear to ear, "If you really don't like it in the morning we can go and get stuff to dye it at home" he softly suggest and you nod slowly taking in his words. Eddie loves you no matter how you look and he will do anything to make you not only happy with how you look but just happy in general. That is how Eddie ends up at the small corner store the next morning to pick up new hair dye and gloves, and that is how he ends up in your tiny shared bathroom that afternoon reading a pamphlet on how to apply hair dye.
It turns out he is really good at dying hair and he continues to do your hair whenever you want a change, sometimes if it's a color he really likes he will match you and dye a streak of his own hair that color. Which he loves so much! Now everyone knows you two are together even more than they did before.
Tagging: @emmyshortcake @sweet-villain @succubusmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @zestychili @tiannasfanfic @lofaewrites @munsonology @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @eiightysixbaby @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @h-ness1944 @seatnights
I think that's everyone! If you want to be tagged let me know
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson as a hair dresser??? maybe#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#eddie munson blurb#stranger things fluff#stranger things blurb#eddie munson x you
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The Father and Father Figures (pt. 3)
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x reader, platonic!Topper x reader, platonic!kelce x reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, birth, soft!rafe, swearing
Summary: After your soon to be babydaddy left you, you were left with no choice but to return to your childhood friends. But soon your past comes back to haunt you.
A/n: this is the second to last part, lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist for the last part. tbh u don't even need to read the first 2 parts to understand this one.
Part 1 Part 2
"Y/n get down from that ladder now!" Rafe demands while putting a crib together. You were painting your baby girl's new room, though you probably should've probably done this a few months ago.
"I'm fine Rafe" you yell back at him. The pregnancy hormones have made you extremely stubborn over the past month, especially when it comes to the typical household things a pregnant woman shouldn't be doing.
"If you don't come down yourself, I'll just force you to get down myself" You don't respond and just continue painting. "For fucks sake, y/n, you're due in a week, please just let me do that."
"You're doing something else right now though, and the baby could come any moment now and she still doesn't have a room." You say aggravated. Rafe raises his hands in defeat and walks out of the room. In the ten minutes Rafe was gone, you literally got about 1 foot of the wall painted. When he returns, he has Topper and Kelce with him, and they told you the same thing Rafe told you, except this time you listen to them, and rafe rolls his eyes and stands at the bottom of the ladder to help you down.
"You two get to work, i gotta talk to momma here" Rafe instructs the two kook boys. he puts his arm around your shoulder and leads you to the kitchen, getting you a glass of water.
"You've been working your ass off all day and you haven't drank anything since breakfast" rafe informs you. "Now, tell me what's bothering you"
"Nothing" you say too defensively so he picked up on your lie. He glares at you with his blue eyes and you cave "I just want the baby out, thats all, i swear." He cradles your belly from behind.
"I know, bear, but you only have about a week left" he reassures you by kissing the side of your head. "now I'm gonna give you two options, we can either go watch the rom-com we've watched a hundred times in the past 7 months, or we can go help Top and Kelce" Before he even finished, you had already made up your mind and walked towards your soon to be baby girls room, and Rafe follows saying "No bending down or standing on ladders though!"
When you get back in the room, you see the two boys managed to get the crib put together, and they were now focused on painting the walls. Thank god for the blue painters tape. You pick up a paint roller and get to work.
After a few minutes of working in silence, Topper gets down from the ladder to properly greet you by pulling you into a side hug. "Hey, hows mommy doing?" he asks a little too casually and you and Kelce try to hold in your laughter, but Rafe just stands awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.
"Oh my god Top, never say that again" you laugh, accidentally throwing baby pink paint on his polo shirt. Topper fake gasps and Rafe smiles a bit while you apologize to Topper. But Topper retaliates by flinging paint from his paint brush onto your already paint stained overalls and you squeal. You and Topper go back and forth, having a paint fight, the room filled with each other's laughter.
Amongst your play fighting, one of you must have hit Kelce in the face with the paint because he joined in with paint smeared on his arm and on his cheek. You look around for Rafe and you see him in the corner with his arms crossed, a slight smile forming on his face. "Rafe come here!" you almost sing out to him, chasing him, but he let you get him leaving a pink handprint on his back.
"You are going to pay for that y/n" he says wiping pink paint on your nose. You don't let him get revenge though. You wrap your arms, wet with paint, around his neck and kiss him before he has the chance.
The kiss lasts forever. You can hear Kelce and Top cheer you two on in the background, but the cheering dies down real quick once everyone except Rafe notices the puddle of water at your feet. You pull away really quick and dig your head into his shoulder and he grabs the back of your head, "shit" he mumbles under his breath "Top get the jeep, you're driving, and Kelce get a couple towels and the backpack and go with him"
Topper mutters a complaint, saying something about how it's always his car but goes out anyways, Kelce following. "You okay, bear?" rafe asks knowing the answer was probably no.
"for now I'm okay, just a little startled." you respond flatly. You take deep breaths, preparing for contractions as you walk down the hall and down the stairs. Rafe helps you up in the Jeep before he gets in as well. Apparently Topper going 60 in a 45 wasn't fast enough for Rafe because he asked him to "hurry the fuck up, man." Rafe held your hand the entire ride and into the hospital. You ended up waiting an hour in the hospital waiting room, but it went by in a blur. You completely disassociated the entire tim. The wait would've been longer if Rafe hadn't insisted on seeing a doctor immediately, even though the contractions haven't started yet.
A nurse comes and puts you in a wheel chair even though you're plenty capable of walking yourself. Rafe continues to hold your hand as you wait in a hospital bed, a cramping feeling building in your gut. When you have your first really bad contraction, you let out a blood curdling scream and squeezed Rafe's hand, almost cutting off his blood circulation. He almost immediately presses the call nurse button on the remote placed on the hospital bed. He hates seeing you in so much pain. The nurse comes almost immediately and takes you to the delivery room.
The next hour or so was the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced. You were overwhelmed by the bright lights, rafes encouragements, and the nurses telling you to push. You felt like you were being torn open from the inside out. After 20 or so pushes, you were over it. "Rafe I can't fucking do this" you whine to him
"Hell yeah you can, and you will, because im not leaving this room without you and the baby girl" Rafes words were the only words you needed to hear, because within three or so bug pushes, your baby girl was out and you were almost out too. The nurse gave the baby to Rafe who then came over to you. "She looks just like you." Rafe comments.
"Let's go with Lorelei"you say to rafe an his face lights up. That was the first name Rafe suggested to you, and although you didn't like it at the time, now that you see your beautiful baby in person, the name just seems to fit. Rafe kisses you on the forehead as Lorelei is carried away for a bath and wellness check by one of the nurses.
You spent a little over a day in the hospital, but when the three of you come home, you're greeted with a very small belated baby shower, courtesy of Rose. Rose and Ward were the first people to greet your new addition to the Cameron family, although she shared your last name and not the Cameron name. Topper and Kelce were the next people to be introduced to little Lorelei. After Rafe did quite a bit of convincing, you finally let Topper hold her. Rafe referred to his two friends as "Uncle Topper and Uncle Kelce," which made you laugh a little while the two just stared at him like they couldn't believe he said that. Wheez was super excited to meet her niece, and so was Sarah, but she didn't show it as much.
Ward pulled Rafe aside for a minute, while one of your girl best friends was catching up with you. You noticed the two men glancing in your direction, so holding Lorelai, you walked over to Top and Kelce. "You guys know what those two are talking about?" You ask, pointing towards the Cameron guys direction.
They look at each other briefly and then back to you. "No, probably just business stuff.' Topper shrugs. You knew he was lying, but you pretended he was telling the truth. Rafe walks back over and pats you on your ass, causing you to jump. "How 'bout we go check on the Lorelai's room real quick," he says, already leading you towards the stairs.
"Now?" You ask. "We have quite a bit of company currently," you say, not wanting to be rude to your guests.
"They'll be here when we get back," Rafe replies as he walks up the stairs with you. You reach your baby's room and notice it's not at all like you left it. You spin around slowly, taking in everything that Cameron's did to the room. They kept the splattered paint on the wall, which would make a good story to tell your little lorelai one day. There were so many stuffed animals: more than you've ever seen in one place. There were bookshelves lining part of the wall with an abundance of books and toys for your baby girl to play with one day. Your favorite part, though, was the photo wall of pictures of you and Rafe, from pregnancy photos to pictures from the first day of kindergarten. You find tears pooling in your eyes, and you turn around to give Rafe a hug, but he's not there.
"Y/n" You hear his voice come from behind you, and you twirl around to find him on one knee, and your hands immediately come up to your face. "Will you marry me?"
Taglist: @mutual-mendes @dilvcv @i-love-rafe
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron imagine
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Not Going Back
Summary: Your past seems to catch up to you but it's not who you expected to see
Wc: 1k+
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Taglist Form
Bucky paced the hallway outside of Steve’s office as he waited. He knew he shouldn't have kept what he knew a secret, knew Steve had a right to know the truth. He just hadn't found a good time to bring it up; it's not exactly breakfast conversation.
When he heard Steve hang up his call in his office, he walked in, dropping the file he had put together on the desk with a thump.
Steve raised his eyebrows as he pulled the folder closer, flipping it open to a grainy black-and-white side-view shot of a woman. A voice in Steve's head said he knew her, but he couldn't place her. “What am I looking at here, Buck? Is this some Hydra scientist we need to take care of?”
Bucky sighed and paced for another moment before lowering himself into the chair opposite Steve’s desk. “We worked closely together when I was the winter soldier. She got out a few months after I did. When I got back, I started looking for her.”
“I’m glad you want me to help you, but who is she? Why is she so important that you've been looking for her since you returned? That’s a long time to look for one person, Buck.”
Bucky didn't get nervous often, but this might be the hardest thing he had done in a while. He steeled his nerves and took a deep breath before answering. “It’s your sister Steve. She's out there."
==========
*three months later*
I chew my lip nervously as I glance over my shoulder. There's no reason for anybody here to follow me, but I can't shake the feeling I'm being watched. I duck down an empty side street and lean against the brick wall of a nearby building. I reach into the pocket of my leather jacket and thumb at the switchblade.
With what I do for a living, it was stupid to think I could stay in one place for so long. I should've left months ago, but the people were so friendly I could almost pretend I wasn't in hiding, running from a past I could barely remember.
After a while, with nothing suspicious happening, I decide it’s safe enough to head back to the apartment I had just started calling “home.” Guess that was a mistake.
I rush into my apartment and start shoving things into my bags. One bag for clothes, one for weapons, kept it easy to pack. There were certain things ingrained in my head; one of them was ‘don't own things that you can not replace’ Sure, I could leave with nothing and be fine, but it was a pain in the ass, and I liked my stuff.
I leave and head off toward where I know I can steal a helicopter. I take side streets and back alleys, trying to hurry when I get that feeling again. That itch in the back of my brain tells me somebody is watching me, but when I look over my shoulder, there’s still nobody there.
Another twenty minutes of walking pass, and I can see the airport when I hear a crunch behind me. I spin around and see a blond man staring at me. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place him.
Grabbing a weapon from my bag would take too long, so I'm left with only my switchblade and ability. He doesn't look like he wants to fight me, so my best bet is to run.
I turn and take off at a sprint. No regular person can keep up with me, so I should be in the clear. I'm only a few feet away from my escape when something heavy slams into my side and grabs onto me.
I look to see what it is and see a face I could never forget; he haunts my dreams. They sent my own damn partner after me. I recognize the expression on his face; it's the same one he makes on missions just before the end. Angry, determined.
With a grunt, I raise my knee and kick his chest as hard as possible. I know I'll never be able to beat him, mainly because there's this tiny voice in the back of my mind screaming not to hurt him.
"I'm not going back!" I scramble away from him and leap to my feet. I snatch the switchblade from my pocket and flip it open. My other hand flexes, and I prepare to use the ability I had spent months shoving down. "I'd die before I ever go back with you!" I spit out and glance between them. The blond still looks hesitant about this, so he should be easy to deal with. The soldier is challenging, but I can get out of here if I can just get past him.
I run towards him, and just before he reaches out to grab me, I hit the ground and slide between his open legs. Yet again, I run for my salvation, not pausing for my dropped bags.
Stupidly I think I'm in the clear when the other one grips my wrist and yanks me towards him. He wraps his arms around me tightly; my arms are trapped at my sides, and I try to slash out with my knife.
The soldier huffs as he snatches it away from me, closes it, and shoves it into his pocket.
"I'm not going back with you!" I jerk my head back and slam it into the chin of Mr. Hesitant. Winter immediately grabs me and tosses me like a sack of potatoes. I land with a grunt. I try to strike out at him, but he grabs my wrists in one hand, pinning them to the ground above my head.
"Doll, I didn't wanna hurt you, but you're not making this easy." his other hand is pinning my hips to the ground, and he's sitting on my legs, so I can't kick him off me. I look around, trying to find the other guy, when the unmistakable feeling of a needle pierces my neck. Found him.
“Fuck you!” I do my best to thrash and fight even as black spots begin to invade my vision.
Remember, likes are nice but reblogs/feedback are golden!
Tags: @charmedbysarge @cjand10
#Bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x rogers!reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes self insert#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes and reader#bucky barnes fic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#Bucky barnes x powered reader#bucky barnes x yn#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x y/n#marvel x female reader#Marvel x Rogers!reader#Marvel x powered reader
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I was rereading your mattdrai sex pollen fic the other day and kept wondering how all of that would've seemed to Matthew. So if that pov flip sparks, I'd love to get insight into his brain in any scene of it!
It's probably stupid, taking Leon home with him. If Matthew were smarter -- he can practically hear Brady laughing at him, which, fuck off, imaginary Brady -- he would've order the Uber to the hotel where the visiting team always stays, hauled Leon into the elevator and shoved him into his hotel room, and stayed there until Leon texted a trainer. Then, and only then, would Matthew have bailed, and he would've been right to do so.
But something about Leon makes it far too easy for Matthew to make stupid choices. So instead, he's taking Leon home with him.
He feels somewhat better about it when he sees how out of it Leon is, wobbling his way up the path to the front door, fever hot to the touch. Leon's still as hard as he was in the hall on the way to the restaurant bathroom, but Matthew is devoting his considerable focus to getting them inside the house, and not thinking about -- that.
"This is your house," Leon says, sounding childishly bewildered as Matthew struggles with the door.
"I'm not leaving you at some hotel by yourself," Matthew retorts. It's harder to deal with the keys than he thought. Leon's presence, he's sure. He's had months to get over himself, but Leon barely has to say a word for Matthew to relapse. God fucking damn it.
Hauling Leon inside is hard. Not in the way it was a few years ago, both of them grappling for control, slamming into walls and the corners of furniture in an effort to be the one with the upper hand, back when the way they pushed and pulled at each other was half the fun. No, it's hard because Leon is dead weight, hanging off of Matthew like a limpet. There's no ignoring how hard Leon is now -- unnaturally hard, Matthew reminds himself, it's not because Leon wants him, it's because something's really fucking wrong -- or how hot his skin is to the touch. Like no fever Matthew's ever seen.
"Okay," Matthew says, once he's deposited Leon on the couch. He takes one, then two steps back, just to put some space between them; barely ignores the way Leon visibly swallows. God, Leon looks so -- is it fucked up to be this into Leon when he's like this, out of his mind, not under his own control, dark-eyed and sweaty and so turned on he can barely say anything to Matthew? Probably. But fuck, Matthew is.
Not like that's new, though. Matthew's been into Leon any and every way he could have him for years.
"You're -- what do you need?" Matthew asks, tearing his gaze away from Leon's face to look at the walls, the fireplace, his stupid Stepbrothers print, anything that isn't Leon. "To feel better?"
"I--" Leon says haltingly. When Matthew glances at him, automatic, Leon just shrugs. Fucking figures.
"Leon." Maybe Matthew shouldn't have done this. Maybe he should've done like Leon asked and left him alone. But Matthew's not even sure how to do that. Not even after Leon left him on radio silence, ignoring every text Matthew sent. Didn't stop him from walking up to Leon, did it. Didn't stop him from bringing Leon home, bringing him here. Doesn't stop him from wanting to figure out just how to get Leon to stop hurting, to stop looking like he's barely holding together on Matthew's new sectional. He chews his lip, feeling the spot that always cracked and peeled back in Calgary. "You -- does it help? When I touch you?"
Slowly, Leon nods.
"Okay. Okay."
Matthew has to psych himself up to walk over to the couch. Remind himself that even if it hurts, it'll be worth it. That's how being with Leon has always been, pain and pleasure all tangled up until Matthew's brain doesn't know the difference anymore. But he does it, takes those steps, reaches out and cups Leon's face with one hand. Feels Leon's beard, strangely soft under his palm. "Like this?"
He feels more than hears Leon inhale. Then: "I -- more."
Matthew's pulled like a marionette, other hand reaching before he knows what he's doing. He wants to dig in his nails, leave marks. Wants to cup Leon's face like the most precious thing he's ever had. His thumb moves slowly along Leon's cheekbone, a gesture he can't help, revealing as it is. "Is this enough?"
Leon's eyes are shut. He doesn't look when he shakes his head.
"Leon," Matthew says. He bends down, closer. From here he can see the wrinkles around Leon's eyes, the small freckles and moles dotting his face. Learning them anew. His heart is pounding hard. He thinks he knows what Leon might say next, but he's not -- he needs to help, but if Leon asks him to -- "I can't," he says, fear making his tongue go too fast. "You have to give me something."
Slowly, Leon opens his eyes. Then --
It's not a good kiss. Too rough, too dry, too fast. But Matthew wants it -- fuck, he knew it would happen, and he wanted it, and he -- he can't do this right now, not if Leon doesn't mean it, not if --
Matthew pulls away, even though it's so fucking hard to do it. Watches Leon hiss through his teeth, like it actually hurt to stop, even though it should be hurting Matthew more. Matthew's the one who had to give this up, after all. "Leon," he says, and he hates how his voice shakes. "This better not -- if this is some kind of fucked up joke --"
Leon shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is soft, slurred, like he can barely get the words out fast enough. "I'm not fucking with you. I don't -- I don't know what's happening to me, but it feels better when I touch you. When I..." He trails off, swallows. Matthew watches the bob of his throat; can't look away. When Leon looks at him, his eyes are wide and dark and pleading. Leon's never been good at hiding anything, not even when he wants to; there's no way he doesn't mean this. "It's the only thing that's helped," he says, and Matthew believes it.
Matthew shuts his eyes. Now is the time to stop. Turn back. There has to be something else, some other way. Has to be something that isn't going to leave Matthew's heart out in the open, unsheltered by his ribs, where Leon can bruise it all over again.
Even as he thinks that, though, he knows there isn't anything else. Not really. Not when Leon's asking like this, trusting in Matthew to help. Even now, even though he knows better, Matthew knows he can't say no.
Not when he wants to touch Leon so badly it hurts.
"Fuck," he says. "This is such a bad idea."
Then he opens his eyes. Looks at Leon -- sweating and flushed; expression so open and vulnerable that Matthew almost wants to hide him away, keep anyone else from seeing it.
"Fuck it," he says, and kisses Leon back.
#well this sure is accidentally 1.1k. anyway#ask meme#ty for these it is helping me procrastinate on the current wip because why work on the second to last big chunk of story
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. . . . . 떨어져 있을 수 없다 ★ c a n ‘ t s t a y a w a y
♩ ⁺ ┄ p a i r i n g s :: jake sim x reader
♩ ⁺ ┄ g e n r e :: angst....because I love it!
♩ ⁺ ┄ w a r n i n g :: mentions of toxic relationship
♩ ⁺ ┄ w / c :: 1.1k
You hadn't talked to Jake in months. Not that you wanted too. But now that he was on his way home from God knows what but for the last few hours he had been texting you nonstop. You had yet to answer any of them.
The message on the screen stared back at you, the message from Jake taunted you with its unanswered status. You hadn't wanted to reach out. Not since you both had stopped talking to each other a few months back. But here he was messaging you. One part of you wanted to respond but you knew you shouldn't. Throwing your phone to the side you stood up from the couch, deciding to erase the thought of his message and him altogether. You didn't need to be thinking about him right now, you didn't need to think about what happened between the two of you.
You sighed heavily as you placed a hand over your eyes, closing them tightly. You didn't know why you were doing this. But it was like you had no control over yourself. Even though you wanted to not think about him. The memories of him came flooding back to you.
The first time you two met, your first kiss with him, everything you tried to forget. You and him weren't anything. You haven't been in months. Not since everything came crashing down. So why haven't you blocked him? Maybe some part of you were hoping to finally get an answer from him why your relationship had become the way it did. Toxic and emotionally draining. You couldn't help but replay the last few months of your relationship with Jake in your mind.
Everything seemed to be good and healthy like any new relationship was but over the months and year you two were together things started to become tense and every day it seemed like you guys were arguing. And now looking back on it, you guys never actually broke up. It was simply that communication between you both simply stopped. It was as if both of you had just disappeared without a trace.
Feeling lost you grabbed your phone doing the thing you knew you shouldn't, but couldn't resist either. Opening the message from Jake, you read it again:
“I'm going to be landing soon. Can I come over?”
You stared at the message from Jake, reading it over and over again. It was a simple question, but it held so much weight. It wasn't a good idea. You couldn't-didn't want to see him. Glancing at message once more you clicked on his contact finally having the strength to do what you should've done months ago.
Taking a deep breath, you tapped on Jake's contact and scrolled down to find the "Block" option. As your finger hovered over it, you hesitated momentarily. This was truly the end of something that could've been great but wasn't. Taking a deep breath, you tapped the "Block" option without looking back. It was time to move on and let go of the past. The weight of the memories and emotions you had been carrying for months slowly lifted as you finally took control of the situation.
After blocking Jake's number, you placed your phone on the couch. It had been done. But why did you feel like it didn't change anything? Was this how it was supposed to feel? Like a mix of sadness and relief? It was as if you were mourning the loss of something that never quite had closure. The memories still lingered, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there were unanswered questions, unspoken words, and unresolved emotions.
For hours this feeling consumed you and your mind. Why weren't you happy you finally let it go? “Was it supposed to make you happy?” You questioned laying in bed later that night. Restless, you tossed and turned in bed, wondering what he would've said if you said yes. Would he have come to apologize? Would things have taken a different turn? It was impossible to know for sure, and that uncertainty gnawed at you.
Tired of tossing and turning, you reached for your phone on the nightstand and powered it on. The screen illuminated, and you found yourself staring at the list of blocked contacts. The name "Jake" stood out, a stark reminder of what you had done earlier. With a mix of curiosity and hesitation, you tapped on Jake's blocked contact and selected the option to unblock him.
When you did you were met with messages coming in. However it was one that stood out.
“Can you let me in?”
Delivered just a few seconds before you unblocked him. As you stared at the message from Jake that came through just moments after unblocking him, your heart started pounding in your chest. A rush of conflicting emotions surged through you. You knew you shouldn't have unblocked him, but there he was, trying to reach you again.
Rushing out of bed, you stood in front of your door. The very same door which he stood on the other side of. Your hand hovered over the doorknob, uncertain of what to do next. Part of you wanted to ignore him, pretend you hadn't seen the message, and leave things as they were. But another part of you, the part that still held on to the memories and the hope for closure, was tempted to open the door.
Taking a deep breath, you decided to face him. Maybe it was time to confront the past and get the answers you needed to move on. Slowly, you turned the doorknob and opened the door to find Jake standing there, looking anxious and nervous. Now that he was standing in front of you it felt like the walls had started to crumble. The tears you had held back for god knows how long finally feel as you jumped into his arms.
In that moment, everything felt calm as you let Jake hold you. No words were spoken as you soon lay embraced in his arms in the comfort of your once 1 person bed. As much as you wanted to hear an apology or something from him but at this very moment, you needed nothing but his comfort. One part of you couldn't help but be angry with yourself for answering the door. The other part of you just couldn't let him go.
Maybe it was stupid of you to do so. Because once this was over it would be back to the way it was. You apologize and then somehow it would turn to arguing, and screaming at each other. Leaving one another crying and sitting in a pile of tears and heartbreak only for you to get back together and do it all over again. Just like you had months prior. Nothing was going to change if you didn't stop it. But sadly you couldn't. Because you just couldn't stay away.
#en-web#❝ e n h y p e n ❞#enha angst#enha imagines#enha drabble#enha fanfic#enha ff#enha x reader#enha x y/n#sim jake#jake sim#jake angst#jake fanfic#enha jake#enhypen imagines#enhypen ff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen#kpop fanfic#kpop ff#kpop imagines#kpop angst#enhypen angst
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Aphrodisia;Prologue
(NSFW)
Word Count: 1,196
Warnings: Slight mention of Kinks, sexual BDSM themes, sex work, and lastly, TW! toxic-ish relationship mentions. Think I missed some? Lmk and send me a dm, I'll update this.
A/N:I have no IDEA how long this took for me finish because I’ve been teasing this series for a couple months with the only two teasers I mentioned of Hyunjin. Seems I have a lot of sub!Hyunjin enthusiasts because same y’all. 😩I promise to finish the Hyunjin before June ends and after that I’ll focus more on other members.
Anyways! This is the prologue enjoy this unfiltered, unedited, there will be hella grammar mistakes and I don’t plan to edit it because it’s too much work and I honestly just want to post ASAP. It’s been far too long since I’ve written and had any sort of inspo to write. Thanks to my dear mutual @nirvanawrites111 she gave me hella inspo with her amazing works!! I’m obsessed with her writing please go do me a favor and read her amazing stories/fics.
Also I tried to add the read more on mobile but I’m a dumbass and idk how to work tumble mobile sometimes lmao. So I apologize for anyone that will see this and doesn’t want to see it.
As a result of unsuccessful relationships and partners being concerned about where she went or what she was doing, she became more secretive about her whereabouts. Even though she wanted to be honest and open with them, she hesitated on many occasions; if she were to be bold and unapologetic they would go insane and ask questions like, "Why did you choose this job out of all the others?", "Are you cheating on me?", etc.
Those tiresome scenarios were one of the reasons she was always the one that broke it off with them, and so she took it upon herself to take a break from her dating life to focus on herself.
She had a job that wasn't just any regular job.
OnlyFans? No
Camgirl? No.
A phone Sex worker? No.
Feet pics? No.
Used panties? No
For her working at night was ideal because her sleeping schedule only allowed her to be a night owl. Even before any partner appeared in her life she was still in the process of discovering a whole new part of herself that she wasn't aware existed, and here she was in a dungeon that she had been hired at over a year ago and was one of the few popular dommes among the clients.
"How are you feeling?", She stood next to the man sitting on the loveseat.
"I'm good, Mistress." He smiled at her.
"Would you like some water?" He nodded in response.
She walked towards the room next door and back to the playroom to hand him the bottle.
She crouched down to his level to face him as well to check in with him, "How are you feeling? Was it too much?", she asked curiously as to how she could improve. What she should've done is saved that question for the head domme but she didn't and took the risk.
"No. Not at all. It was perfect, I enjoyed every second of it."
He faced her smiling at him and held her hand realizing he shouldn't be doing that.
"I'm sorry...may I?" She smiled warmly at him not pulling her hands away from his grasp.
"I just wanted to say thank you."
While she had not broken skin or drawn blood, she still left a few red welts on him. She grabbed the first aid kit in the corner and treated his wounds, trying to be as gentle as possible.
"No need to thank me. You went out of your way to give it a shot when you could've easily backed out and I would've still respected your decision. BDSM isn't everyone's cup of tea and so we've learned to respect everyone's decision."
She applied a first-aid ointment to every single red mark on his back; he hissed at the lightest touch, "I'm sorry, I know it hurts I'm just trying to make sure these heal quickly and nicely."
"I know and I appreciate it."
"Done." She stood up and handed him his T-shirt. "Make sure to take a warm bath or shower after you get home and keep applying ointment on the marks afterward.
He smiled at her making his way toward the exit.
"Will do.",
She smiled at him and nodded, seeing him off.
That was one of the roughest BDSM scenes she had done in a while. She would like to take time to make sure her submissive didn't go into a sub-drop, but sadly she couldn't. If it were her, she would go out of her way to remain with every submissive for a bit longer. However, her boss had to remind her that they only came here for a service nothing more. Because of this, she couldn’t be there for more than ten to fifteen minutes with her clients after their sessions ended.
~~~~~
"See you tomorrow night!" Her boss told her as they both headed in different directions.
She silently walked for the next couple of four blocks by herself and finally got closer to her apartment. She walked up the stairs and opened the door to her place. The second she got in she took off her shoes left them at the entrance and hung her purse on the rack.
Exhausted and couldn't even begin to explain how she felt after handling four subs back to back today. It was not an ideal situation for her couldn't handle more than two subs a day because her anxiety and insecurities kept creeping back up on her.
She meditated, journaled, exercised, and even set days apart for self-care plus, she detoxed from her constant electronic use. She ate healthily and did her best to keep her homey environment clean and organized. However, regardless of what she did something inside her told her she couldn't keep doing this.
She craved something new and stable.
She loved domming but maybe because of all her ex-partner's insecurities of themselves as she hid her true identity was reflecting on herself.
Could it be that deep inside she was ashamed of her job and what she did?
Years ago when she discovered the person she truly was glowed with confidence. How could she even be a dominatrix if she wasn't sure of herself and her current job?
Oh no.
She was experiencing not only her anxieties but also a dom drop.
Telling her boss; she was fine could've been a mistake because she was responsible for taking care of her dommes since half of them didn't have a partner to take care of them.
Fuck.
~~~~~
Two years Later:
Two years and a half of learning Korean were a big help during the entire process of her moving across the world. She wasn't fluent yet but could manage conversations with her neighbors, classmates, and strangers. And so here she was, sitting inside a cafe shop a couple of blocks from the Korean class she had just finished attending.
It seemed like only yesterday, she was experiencing the worst anxiety and burnout from only a year of working as a domme which was odd considering that she had never once felt like that before. But it made sense since she kept getting the gnawing feeling that she shouldn't have gotten into the dominatrix world way too early and so she took it upon herself to resign to take time for herself; and continue her future as domme by researching more information about the career, lifestyle, and possibly a new business.
The grueling work of research, language learning, space vacancy, furniture shop, etc made her take a step back and reconsider if she could do this all by herself. Thankfully, after taking a couple of weeks to continue her research she found herself posting on an exclusive adult site looking for dommes to work with her.
After returning calls and doing interviews she had successfully found four dommes who wanted to continue their careers in the kink community and so never once she thought, that she out of all people would be involved with any of Korea's music industry. Especially the ever so sexually frustrated men of Kpop that had an image and reputation to uphold in the industry, their companies, and not to forget their fans.
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Hello guys! This is Satan's ver. of the Cheating! Au, thanks so much for the support it makes me so happy to see all the sweet replies 💓
"Get the fuck out of my room! We're through, you fucking asshole!" You pushed the demon out of your bedroom, you were in tears and your throat was sore from all the screaming you were doing. Never before have you been this upset, what your now ex-lover had done to spite you was something beyond horrible. Not being able to handle what he had done; you decided it would be best to break off the relationship with him but it quickly turned sour.
"MC, I really am sorry! I was just mad—" you shoved him even harder than before, " Just mad?! Just mad, so you decided to fuck someone else just to make me mad?! Do you know how stupid you sound?" You caught a glimpse of his face, it was heartbreaking to look at the man you loved so dearly almost in tears but what he had done to you was unforgivable. Never before did you think Satan, the Avatar of Wrath would go this far in order to satisfy his sin. This was your breaking point, he had gone too far.
The more you thought about it the more it made you want to punch him but at the same time you just wanted a genuine hug from him. You knew this wasn't a kiss and makeup situation, yet you still yearned for it to be. All of this started a few weeks ago when Satan and you got into a big argument over petty comments, you had compared him to Lucifer a few too many times and everything blew up. He was not entirely at fault for this messy breakup, you should've just bit your tongue at times but he also should've controlled his temper better. You could deal with his wrath and pettiness most of the time but what he had done with that succubus in the bed the two of you sometimes shared was beyond what you imagined he would do as revenge,nothing was going to be the same between the two of you after this.
"MC! Please listen for one minute, I'm sorry for what I did. No matter how angry I was it doesn't justify me cheating on you." He softened his voice, he was now speaking in a calmer tone than usual. You stopped pushing against his chest and allowed yourself to rest your head and hands against where you were previously pushing. "You don't have to forgive me, you shouldn't forgive me for what I've done. But—...I just want you to have peace of mind as much as possible in this mess."
Grasping his shirt, you began to sob into his chest like a baby. You were growing tired of how much crying you were doing, it felt like it was non-stop 24/7.
"Satan.. we're never going to be the same." You managed to push out a few more words, "I know, it'll be okay." You took a deep breath and mustered up all of your remaining strength to push him as hard as you could out the door. Luckily you caught him off guard, managing to lock the door. Never ever did you imagine your relationship with Satan would turn into this, it felt like it was only yesterday when you confessed to him behind RAD. Months later, you were screaming and crying over him and his actions. You didn't know what you were going to do now, you still lived with him and had to eat dinner with him.
You collapsed to the floor, exhausted from everything that happened. If only you could just curl up into a little ball and erase yourself from existence. On the other side of the door, the blonde hair demon whispered a bittersweet, "I love you." It truly was a bittersweet relationship.
#obey me#obey me fanfic#obey me belphie#satan obey me#asmo obey me#mammon obey me#lucifer obey me#obey me otome#obey me beelzebub#obey me angst#angst with no happy ending#obey me au#obey me fic#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me x you#obey me x gender neutral reader#otome game#obey me characters#Spotify
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Seriously idk why some people can't phathom the fact that trans women(MtF) will need to see an obgyn sometimes.
Or that some people are intersex? Like legally im FtM but biologically i was diagnosed afters years of development issues as intersex(xy chromosomes, and misuse of estrogen in development caused me so many problems, it literally wrecked my body to the point all my internal organs was stuck together and none of my reproductive systems were viable because it was too infected and too far gone)
Ohh and have i mentioned that because the obgyn didn't do her research and just prescribed me with astrogen at 16(cause i wasnt developing at all)
It kickstarted endometriosis (nerve endometriosis at that) and for almost two years now im dealing with paralyzed lower body, and still they have the nerve to tell me that i should've accepted myself and i shouldn't have ' mutelated my body'
As if they know shit about trans pple and the experience, or anything more than their basic biology that even that like my highschool taught more.
At this point ive been to so many doctors, been hospitalized for months on end and still pple who know shit about gynocology have the nerve to tell me i need a mental health specialist, as if I wasn't getting any already.
So yeah ive been with an mtf friend to her first gynocology appointment cause she was terrified.
Its not all about the womb, somtimes they need to check the vaginal canal(even if its not 'real one' )or anything related to the urethra, cause in here usually urologists is for pple who have a penis only.
Seriously done with stupid pple who never met a trans person in their life, and never been out of their own fucking bubble.
I know this post is all over the place and not related to my usual shitposting but seriously needed to take this off my chest cause im fucking done i hate pple so much why can't you just stfu, why do you care if the person before you in line to the obgyn is cis or not, she has an appointment cause she needs it karen, not to steal from 'innocent biological women'
Edit: this happened 3 years ago when my friend needed an obgyn for the first time and an old lady who heard us talking, mainly me calming her cause she was nervouse, and the old lady picked on her being trans and just started a scene but in the end she was escorted out by security so my friend ended up with no harm beside a minor trauma.
but ive seen a reel on instagram that reminded me of that, and ive commented on the clear fact that trans women do need obgyn sometimes and the comments were just, fucking disgusting, seriously hate pple sometimes and idk im not even american but most of the comments reeked of 'florida' or 'ron DeSantis supporters'
Like i know some of yall are precious and dont get it the wrong way, but sometimes i just hate America. Your education system failed allot of you.
#transgender#ftm transman#lgbtqia#lgbtq#lgbtq community#lgbt#mtf trans#ftm#queer community#queer issues#lgbtqia rights#just let the mtf go to her appointment in peace susan#usually im not a violent person but its moment like this i wanna bash someone head to the wall
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Ghost Story - Chapter 18
Pairing: Rooster x Female OC
Word Count: 1883
Warnings: Swearing
Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.
Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.
Chapter Songs: Sabotage Anti-Hero
****
Ghost
The two girls stared each other down, one livid and the other petrified. It was only a matter of time before Bryn found out about Ghost and Rooster, but Ghost had prayed the day never came. God or the universe ignored her wish. For a few seconds, neither said a word, and Ghost wondered where she could even begin to apologize, but she figured saying "I'm sorry" was as good a place to start as any, so that's what she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Sorry for what, exactly?" Bryn demanded, crossing her arms. "Sorry for lying to me? Sorry for sleeping with my boyfriend? You're going to have to be a little more specific."
"I'm sorry for both. I lied to you because I didn't want you to think I was another Britney because I'm not. When I slept with Rooster, we were both single, and we were always drunk and-"
Bryn stiffened. "It happened more than once?!"
Ghost shoved her hands in her pockets, hands clenched in fists and nails digging painfully into her palms. "Yes. The first time was not long after Hangman broke up with me. Rooster was there for me, I'd liked him before Hangman asked me out, and things spiraled one night after too much alcohol. The second time involved too much alcohol the night before I deployed. This was before I dated Hangman a second time and-"
"You realize I would've been okay with it had you told me? It's in the past, Ghost! I asked you if anything ever happened between you two because I suspected it, but when you told me no, I believed you because you never gave me a reason to believe you would lie to me. God, I'm such an idiot!"
"You're not an idiot, Bryn, and if those were the only two times, I would've, but we slept together a few months ago... the night before your first date with him. We were drunk again, I didn't know he was going out with you, I just knew it was a friend-"
"And that makes it okay? It's girl code, Annalise! You don't go after guys your friends are dating! It doesn't matter whether you knew it was me or not. You knew it was a friend, yet you still fucked him! Why?!"
Because I love him. I always have. Ghost couldn't lie to Bryn again, but she also couldn't tell her the deep truth. Then again, what choice did she have?
"Answer me, damn it!" Bryn demanded, stepping closer to Ghost when the aviator failed to respond immediately.
"Because I was selfish, and I knew that nothing would ever happen between us again after he went on a date with you, so I went against everything my head and morals were telling me to do and slept with him. I knew I shouldn't have done it back then, and I know even more now. I should've told you, Bryn. I'm really, really sorry. Please know you have nothing to worry about with me and Rooster. I convinced myself it was okay then because he wasn't dating you the last time I slept with him, but he is dating you now, and I don't sleep or date my friend's boyfriends, current or otherwise."
Bryn scoffed. "As if your promises hold any meaning anymore."
"Why did you never ask Rooster? About if something happened between us, I mean?"
"Because I trusted your word more than his because you were my best friend, but now I realize you're not, and I'm starting to wonder if you ever were. Did you sleep with any other of my boyfriends?"
"No, of course not. I wouldn't do that-"
"But you would!"
"Bryn-"
"We're done. You and me. Me and Rooster. I'm done with both of you. I can't trust a word out of your mouth." Her fury suddenly evaporated; Bryn's shoulders sagged, and her expression saddened. "If I'd known you liked Rooster, I wouldn't have gone after him. I would've let you have him because it'd be nice to see you happy with a guy again. And I could've accepted all this if you had told me upfront when I asked you about two, even the most recent time you slept together, but no. You lied to me. For months, you've lied to me. That's what I can't forgive."
Bryn brushed brusquely past her, purposefully crashing into Ghost's shoulder, knocking her slightly back. Ghost didn't move, staring after her friend with her heart breaking and guilt threatening to drown her.
"Ghost, what's wrong?" Rooster's worried voice sounded behind her, and she whirled around. She jerked back from his outstretched arm; hurt flashed across his face. "Ghost, please-"
"I'm sorry. Bryn found out that we slept together, and she's livid. You have to go after her," she told him, swallowing the knot in her throat. If Rooster saw the unbreakable, unshakable Ghost cry, he wouldn't leave her, and she needed him to make amends with his girlfriend.
"What about y-"
"Forget about me, Rooster!" she snapped, pointing a shaking finger in the direction that Bryn had gone. "I'm not your girlfriend. Bryn is. She's the one you need to go comfort, not me."
"I'll take care of her, Bradshaw," Hangman said, uncharacteristically devoid of his cocky smirk and attitude. "Go after your girlfriend."
Rooster hesitated, staring helplessly at Ghost. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the reluctance to leave her. All Ghost wanted to do was run into his arms and let him hold and comfort her, but she wouldn't do that. She couldn't do that. Finally, after an agonizing wait, Rooster headed after Bryn.
"Do you want to go home?" Hangman asked gently.
"Yeah. I'll see you later," Ghost replied, offering him a small smile.
Hangman glanced out at the darkening storm clouds in the distance. "That storm's rolling in fast. I don't want you walking home in that."
"I'll be fine, Jake. I want to be alone right now, okay? Please?"
He offered her his truck keys. "Take Ruby."
"No, you need that to get home. I'll be okay walking. I'll beat the storm, I promise." Ghost stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you around. Love you."
"Love you too," he replied. She left him on the balcony of the Hard Deck and shuffled down the sidewalk with her head down to hide the tears blurring her vision from anyone passing by. Despite having seen this coming, despite having deserved the words Bryn hurled at her, Ghost still hurt from it, and the guilt over the entire situation increased by a hundredfold. She never should've slept with Rooster that last time. Bryn was right about that. Ghost knew he was going on a date with a friend, and she slept with him regardless of the fact, all because of her own selfishness. What kind of friend was she? Here Ghost claimed she wasn't Britney but was she much better than her?
No, I'm not. Britney never tried to hide her deceit. I did. God, what have I done? I've managed to destroy two friendships in the span of a week, a relationship between the friends I've fucked up with, and I've made things awkward with Jake because now he knows I slept with Rooster... what else am I going to ruin?
A motorcycle pulled up just ahead of her, and she recognized the Kawasaki logo on the back. Blinking back her tears, Ghost looked up at Maverick. "Let me guess: Hangman send you?"
"And Rooster. You wouldn't listen to them when they said they didn't want you walking alone, so they thought you might listen to me. I agree with them that you shouldn't be walking alone, especially with that storm coming," Maverick said in such a fatherly tone that made Ghost ache for her own. He held out his hand for her. "Come on. Let me get you home safely. Put an old man's mind at ease."
Ghost couldn't say no to him and got on the bike, although she did say, "You're far from old, sir."
He smiled at the compliment and then set off for her apartment. Ghost, grateful for the ride, clung onto him as he shot off down the road. The wind dried her tears temporarily, allowing her to see that Hangman and Maverick had been right. It looked like a hell of a storm rolling in, and she wouldn't have made it home in time if she'd walked all the way.
Maverick pulled up to her apartment and helped her off the bike. With a small smile, he said, "Thanks for putting an old man's mind at ease."
Shoving her hands in her pocket, Ghost responded, "Thank you for the ride, sir. Sorry for causing drama today."
Maverick shook his head. "You don't need to apologize. You didn't do it on purpose. Do you want to talk about it?"
Ghost sniffed and shook her head. "Not really. It is what it is, and talking about it won't solve anything. My problems are my own, and I'm not going to drag anyone else into my drama. I dug this grave myself. Now I have to lie in it."
"You don't have to face it alone, Ghost."
"But I do. This is all my fault, Mav."
"Rarely is a problem ever fully one-sided."
"I know, but this time, it is. At least with Bryn. I have no clue how to salvage it or if it's even possible."
"You'll figure it out, Ghost. I believe in you. You going to be okay by yourself?" Maverick asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm going to go sleep away my problems for a bit and face the world when it's time to fly again. Thanks again for the ride, Mav. I'll see you around."
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. I mean that." Maverick patted her arm gently, then bid her goodbye. He watched her until she entered her building before tearing down the street to beat the storm. The moment Ghost stepped foot into her apartment, she curled up on the couch under a cozy blanket and turned on her TV, although she failed to actually pay attention to it. Rather, her mind replayed the argument with Bryn over and over again, replayed the betrayal, the anger, the sadness.
By trying to protect herself from judgment and maybe some awkwardness between her and Bryn, Ghost hurt her closest friend instead. She thought it was the best course of action because what happened between her and Rooster would never happen again, whether Bryn believed her or not, but Ghost had been horribly wrong. Just like she'd been wrong in telling Rooster about her feelings. Even though he reciprocated them, they could hardly stand to be around each other without some tension, even with others around. As much as Ghost wanted to reconcile with him, she feared another argument would form instead because that seemed to be all she was good at doing with her close friends right now. First Rooster, then Bryn, and even a slight one with Hangman.
It's best I stay away from them. That way, I can't fuck anything else up or anyone else over. Another, even more, depressing thought spoke quietly yet persuasively in her mind. Besides, no one will miss a ghost...
****
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#top gun#top gun maverick#fanfiction#fanfic#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#tg#maverick#rooster#hangman#phoenix#bob#coyote#fanboy#payback#halo#fritz#omaha#harvard#yale#charlie#ghost#ghost story#winchester#bradley bradshaw#top gun 2#iceman#penny#penny benjamin#new years
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