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kitkatscabinet · 7 months

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Don't feed him he'll come back

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.6k

part 2 here

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there.

The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours.

Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features.

A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day.

You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated.

It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes.

He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield.

You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted.

Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier.

Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair.

“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment.

Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within.

His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style.

Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence.

“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”

The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.”

No laugh but you blaze ahead.

“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement.

“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure.

“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied.

“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle.

“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle.

“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”

The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it,

“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange.

The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain.

Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you.

You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.

You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.

Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.

Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh.

It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless.

Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor.

You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin.

You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice.

It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself.

Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time.

It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

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cyborg-franky · 5 months

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Their reaction when you give them your number

Some headcanons!

SFW GN Reader Chars: Ace, Robin, Marco, Kid, Killer, Buggy

Ace

He’s been flirting back and forth with you the entire time you’ve been working. He came in for his brother's friend's birthday but has spent more time talking to you and honestly? You didn’t mind. He was cute, funny, and very sweet. His flirting was a little awkward at times, you guessed as handsome as he was he had some self-esteem issues. But the more you talked with Ace the more his confidence grew.

It was late and pretty quiet, he chatted to you about his brothers as he leaned on the bar, you cleaned and got ready to close, just enjoying his voice, and how genuinely caring he seemed. It was then you grabbed a piece of paper, wrote your number on it, and slid it across the bar.

“What’s that? How much of a tab did me and those idiots wrack up…” He hummed and flipped the paper over, his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the number. You couldn't help the sly smile on your face when you could see the blush on his cheeks, even in the low light of the bar.

You sure hoped he’d call. He chuckled and put it in his pocket, trying to act cool about it even with his cheeks on fire.

Robin

She had to have been the most beautiful woman to have ever set foot in your store. The way she walked around in her summer dress, the fabric flowy in the breeze, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear as she picked up a huge heavy book, her eyes scanning each with a smile on her lips.

You felt entranced and intimidated by her in equal measure. Each movement was poised and elegant. She glanced over her shoulder and saw you staring at her, the sparkle of mischief in her eyes reached the sly smirk.

Grabbing an arm full of books so big you could murder a man with she set them down on the counter and you had to try and remember how to talk again. “Is it okay if I buy a coffee and read one of these?” You nodded, she could have robbed you and you would have thanked her.

As she paid for her books you quickly wrote your number on a note and slipped it in one of the books as you placed it in a bag for her. She bought her coffee and books and sat down on one of the big armchairs. You gripped the edge of the counter when you noticed she went right for the book you’d put your number in.

Robin saw the piece of paper and shot you the most wickedly sinful smile you felt your heart would explode.

Marco

He came into your work at least once a week, maybe more, and his order was always the same. He was a creature of habit but never boring. You always stood and chatted with him between his order and bringing it to him. He was polite and handsome and always had this lazy smile on his face that you found yourself looking forward to seeing.

Marco always had a kind word for you, would comment on your hair, how you wore it that day, how your new shirt was nice and suited you. He was full of compliments but he never came across as creepy. You adored his voice, his laugh, and how he always had a crazy story about his friends.

You felt like you knew them.

One night he came in with some of those said friends, a rowdy bunch but just like him, polite and chatty. You set down the tray of drinks and Marco leaned back in his seat taking his. “They make the best drinks, it’s why I come back all the time,” Marco said before sipping his drink.

“Yeah, right, that's the only reason.” Thatch teased and got a nudge. You didn’t know what the man meant by that but Marco met your eye and gave you a sheepish smile.

The group all started to leave and the man with the big hair, Thatch, came over to pay the bill. “Hey, I think you and Marco might have a sweet spot for one another, sorry if I’m misreading that but… maybe you could give me your number, to pass on?”

You blinked, processing what he was asking before grabbing a coaster and writing it on. Thatch paid and practically ran to Marco and brandished the coaster at him. “Got you a present!” Marco looked at it, then back at you. You watched as the smirk on his face grew and he placed it in his pocket.

Kidd

His entire group was loud but you didn’t mind. You were used to his sort coming to this bar, parking their motorbikes outside, and stomping into the bar with their heavy boots and loud voices. They’d been polite enough to you though.

Serving them rounds of beers when they raised their hands, always paying. You knew this group pretty well by now. The red-haired man who was the leader spoke with you casually. He leaned on the bar and laughed at jokes and comments yelled over the room at him.

“Got anything fun planned this weekend?” You asked as you handed him another beer, he took a swig before thanking you. You could see him thinking over your question, you always had a feeling he and his gang got up to all sorts. Maybe he was debating on what he could tell you.

“Nah, unless you wanna finally fess up to being into me an’ wanna hang.” He said, the smirk on his painted lips, showing his teeth. He was cocky and overconfident but God daaamn did it work.

“What makes you think I’m into you?” You asked, well, he was right but still.

“Babe, I just know, so gunna give me your number or do I have to beg?” Kidd asked with a gleam in his eyes. You loved feeling you had all the power in this situation. You met his eye before ripping off a piece of a poster hanging up behind you and putting your number on.

“You don’t have to beg, this time.” You chuckled and handed it to him. He laughed loudly and put it in his jacket pocket, looking smug.

He’d won.

Killer

Killer came into your shop every other week, always for something for his bike. It could be a check-up, a new decal, a sticker or just to get someone to clean it. He was a man of few words but he was pleasant to be around. His small talk was never dull or seemed forced, he enjoyed hearing your stories and learning about you.

Sometimes you even got to hear his voice, get to learn about his life; How he was part of a group who drove around together. You were very intrigued by him. The way he’d take off his helmet and all that blonde hair would come tumbling out, you could have sworn the world become slow motion whenever he did that.

He was gorgeous.

“Going for a drive this weekend?” You asked when he set down his helmet, one of the mechanics working on his bike already. He shook his head “Just thought I heard something when I’d started her,” he said and stared across the room.

Killer didn’t leave, didn’t go for a walk, instead while his bike was being checked he simply stood and talked to you. It was nice, he was a good guy. The mechanic came in and handed you the paperwork. You looked it over.

“Good news! The small issue has been fixed and since your in here all the time we won’t charge the normal rate,” your heart was beating when you sneakily wrote your number on the paper and handed it to him.

He said his goodbyes and walked away, reading over the paper before he noticed the number, he turned and looked at you. Wordlessly, effortlessly cool he just gave you the thumbs up and grinned.

Buggy

He was a strange guy, how he seemed to think he was so slick every time he came in. Acting like this wasn’t the 18th time he’d been in this week. He was strange, sure, but he was cute and no one had made you laugh so much. Sometimes you didn’t think he meant to be funny on purpose, his charm was just a silly guy.

But as goofy as he came across he was still unreasonably handsome and had his own brand of charisma that had you so taken with him. He came in on his way back from work and asked for his regular order, which you knew by heart now.

He would go on about his day, complaining about someone called Shanks that he worked with. The way he told his stories was so over the top and so hilarious that you couldn’t help but stand there chuckling and hanging on to his every word.

“So yeah, that dickhead set me back like 20 minutes.” He mumbled and sipped his shake, eating a few fries “Well, hopefully, your weekend will be better.” you said as you refilled the napkin holder.

“I’ll still be in though, I gotta get my fix.” He said and held up his drink, you weren’t sure if that was all he meant either. “Oh no, I won’t be in, I have the day off.”

He seemed crestfallen at that news, deflating in his seat with a frown. “Ah..” he mumbled as he stuffed more fries into his mouth. “But maybe we can arrange something?” you pulled out a napkin and wrote down your number, setting it next to him.

Buggy had been drinking at that moment, he stared at your number and snorted, his shake and the straw shooting to the back of his throat, causing him to splutter, some of his drink coming out of his nose as he became a flustered mess.

You laughed and watched him grab at handfuls of napkin to clean himself, wheezing as he did so, trying and failing to calm himself down, he croaked out “Sounds great…”

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strangersmunsons · 4 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 3 Prompt: Lingerie 🎀 ~ 2,200 words you buy a pretty set of underwear to wear for Eddie. smut, 18+ only: p-in-v sex, spanking (brief), oral/fingering (fem!receiving), nipple play/tit sucking, praise, body worship.

Soft tissue paper crinkles beneath your fingertips as you gently remove each thin layer from the clean, white, department store gift box.

You’re almost afraid to touch it; you’ve never owned anything so pretty and fragile-looking. Up until this point the fanciest underwear you’ve ever worn was a plain bra and panty set from K-Mart.

But this? Whole ‘nother ball game. You imagine Eddie will be very pleased.

The bra is little more than delicately-constructed strips of fabric; creamy satin to line the underside of your breasts, dainty lace to adorn the top, in a display of completely false modesty, as there’s space enough between the two materials for the buds of your nipples to peek through. The waistband of the matching thong is frilled with gentle sprays of lace that will float over the curves of your hips, and there’s a tiny silk bow sewn into the fabric that will cover your mound.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Eddie loves you in anything. That boy could look at you in snow pants and a parka and still succeed in getting a boner. But you felt the time was ripe for you to treat both yourself and him to something special.

You’re aiming for soft, romantic — cherubic, even. Something Valentine’s Day appropriate. When you slip the set on for the first time, and eye yourself in the bedroom’s full-length mirror, you think you’ve definitely achieved that. It fits like a glove; you’ve never felt sexier.

As if he somehow knew exactly what you were up to, Eddie taps on the closed door. “Sweetheart? Are you alright in there?” You don’t usually lock him out of the bedroom.

“Yes,” you call back to him, heart jumping in anticipation. “Just give me one second.”

Steeling yourself, you take a deep breath, cast one last approving glance in the mirror, and open the door for your boyfriend.

Eddie’s mouth, opened to greet you, suddenly snaps shut when he takes in the sight before him. His eyes are huge as he looks you up and down, greedily roaming over every square inch of your body.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”

He doesn’t even say anything — just lunges forward and crushes you to him, arms winding around you as tightly as they can go. His full lips press against yours in a searing, bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth and spit. He nips at your bottom lip and licks into your mouth, leaving you breathless, whiny, needy; he walks you backwards, until the backs of your legs hit the side of the bed, and you let yourself fall onto the plush covers.

Eddie covers your body with his own, warm weight adding a delightful pressure against your torso. Automatically your legs wrap around his trim waist, his denim-clad crotch creating delicious friction as it rubs against your own satin-covered core.

He moves away from your mouth, peppering sloppy kisses over your chin and up your jaw, then all over your neck until he finds that little sweet spot that makes you keen. One fist tangles in his hair, and you give a gentle tug to the curly locks. Eddie moans into the hollow of your throat.

With your lips now free, you manage, “Do you like it, then?”

Eddie’s head whips up, like he’s shocked you have to ask. “Hell yes. You look fucking gorgeous.”

Willing himself to gain some self-control, Eddie slows his pace. He peels himself away from you with reluctance, standing back up, and motions with his index finger for you to spin around. “Hands and knees, baby. Wanna see that pretty ass in the air.”

You scramble to the center of the bed on all fours. Once in position, Eddie runs his fingertips down your back, brushing lightly down your spine and back up again, making you shiver. Then he flattens his warm, calloused palms against your skin, rubbing in one smooth motion from your shoulders to your bottom, grasping each bare cheek in his hands and giving them a tight squeeze. “So pretty,” he croons, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to each one. “You’re my angel, you know that?”

You already feel flushed, dizzy, intoxicated by his praise and the feel of his hands, and the sensation of a single, curly tendril falling from over his shoulder and brushing against the back of your thigh. Eddie lets go of one cheek and runs a finger over the back piece of the frilly thong, toying lightly with the fabric nestled between your cheeks. You suck in a sharp breath as his finger dances along the crevice.

“I like this,” he muses, then wallops a firm slap! against your ass. Nothing brutal — hard enough to bring the blood to the surface of the skin, warm and stinging, but not so hard that you’re writhing in pain.

It’s like giving you a kiss, really.

He spanks the other cheek and you let out a little yelp. Eddie rubs the skin soothingly, easing the pain away. Then he pulls the crotch of your panties aside, already warm and sticky with arousal. Mouth positively watering, the heady, pungent scent of your sex filling his nostrils, he leans in, and starts teasing you with little kitten-licks, cleaning away the soft wetness leaking out of your cunt.

You moan wantonly, burying your face into the downy bed cover.

Eddie’s hands grasp at your hips, your ass, your thighs, anything that’ll keep him steady while he eats you out from behind like a man starved. His tongue picks up speed, alternating between broad stripes and precise, intricate patterns with the tip of his tongue, which dips inside of you, and after a few shallow thrusts, is replaced with a finger, then two. His mouth latches onto your clit, lips sealing around the sweet little bud, sucking gently while his thick fingers pump in and out of you, curling just so.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he groans against the slick flesh, “my sweet girl.” He lavishes a series of rapid, sucking kisses against your clit, and you fall to pieces.

“Eddie!”

Skin alight and tingly, panting heavily, you push recklessly back against Eddie’s face and he lets you do as you will, helping you ride out your orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages, words muffled by your cunt, “cum for me.”

As you come back down, your bones feel soft and spongy; you’re drowning in oxytocin and dopamine, floating in that sweet, dreamy space that only Eddie can take you to. He moves the underwear back into place, and rearranges your pliant limbs so you’re no longer on your hands and knees, but lying comfortably on your back. He shimmies out of his clothes quickly, shucking off the black jeans and t-shirt in record time. When he pulls his boxers down, his cock springs free, red and weeping; he jerks himself with a few quick tugs. You moisten your lips involuntarily at the sight, and move to sit up, eyes locked onto his heavy balls and girthy shaft.

But Eddie has other plans. “You can suck me off later, if you want to, princess.” He grins salaciously. “But right now I need to be inside you.”

He climbs on the bed, crawling between your legs, and turns his focus to your breasts. He lavishes the same attention on your tits as he did your ass, fondling them in the soft, barely-there cups, swiping his thumbs into the space where your nipples are exposed, pinching lightly, rolling them between his fingers.

The bra comes off, and he doesn’t hesitate to take a pebbled nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. When he’s finished with one, he kisses his way across your chest to the other. “Love these tits so much,” he mumbles into the swell of your breast before sucking the next one into his mouth, making sure he shows it the amount of same love. He looks up at you with big puppy eyes, and your fingers weave securely into his hair while he sucks.

Releasing your breast with a wet, almost-comical pop, he straightens back up and pinches the waistband of your panties between two fingers. Slowly, agonizingly, he pulls them down, baring you completely. Cool air hits your sticky, aching middle, and your legs tremble in anticipation.

The curls on your pubic mound have gone soft, dampened with sweat and arousal; he strokes them with loving fingers before continuing to pull the underwear down your thighs, past your knees and calves, until they’re completely off. He bites his full bottom lip, eyeing your cunt. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he promises you. Then he brings the panties up to his nose and sniffs delicately.

You squeal and kick at him playfully with one foot. He catches your ankle and snickers, pressing a quick kiss to your heel. “What? I like how you smell. I like how you taste, how you sound, how you look…” he trails off, staring at your body beneath him with lovestruck eyes. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He runs his hands down your sides in admiration, feeling every curve and crevice and dimple and bump, and loving all of them.

“So are you.”

He reaches out to cup your face with one hand. You lay your own hand on top of his and sigh, hoping you can feel this way with him forever.

Eddie twines his fingers through yours, and presses your interlocked hands into the mattress beside your head. He lays over top of you, settling in slowly, all franticness from earlier gone. He rubs his body against yours, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, savoring the feeling, both of you letting out soft moans at the sensation of his hard cock slipping against your wet folds.

He tucks his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Y’ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please…”

“Good girl. So polite.” Eddie lines himself up and slips inside of you, pushing in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his length. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, breathing heavily into the skin. When you moan, and clutch at his shoulders, he understands that you’re giving him permission to speed up. His hips start to rock into yours a little bit faster, a little bit harder.

You move in tandem. The bed creaks. The two of you are a mere tangle of limbs; holding each other this close, it’s impossible to tell where your body ends and Eddie’s begins.

You whimper at the feeling of his thick cock pumping in and out of you, stretching you out in an exhilarating mix of pleasure-almost-pain. “Tha’s it, baby, let me hear you. Wanna hear all your pretty noises,” Eddie says, voice ragged. “Let me know how good it feels.”

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you tell him brokenly, thoroughly fucked-out. “Feels so big.”

At that, his thrusts become sloppier. “Yeah? My cock makin’ you all nice and full?” He snakes a hand down to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb. He knew the second he saw you in that getup he wasn’t gonna last long — honestly, he’s surprised he made it this far with blowing his load.

With the added stimulation over your sensitive bud, you’re nearly there. The scent of sex, spiced body wash, and tobacco invade your senses, so all you can think of is Eddie. The muscles of your abdomen tighten, the walls of your cunt clenching around Eddie’s cock — you’re teetering on the precipice of climax. Eddie wants it like nothing he’s ever wanted before.

His lips at your ear. “Give me one more sweetheart you’re so close I can feel it —”

A second orgasm overtakes you, pleasure bolting from your core in every direction. You cry out, biting into his shoulder, nails digging crescent-moons into his back. He holds you tightly and works you through it, concentrating on your release, though his own is right on its heels.

It’s too much. “Kiss me,” he begs, and then, not waiting for an answer, desperately seals his mouth to yours, so urgently that it’s merely a collision of lips and noses. Equally drunk on you as you are on him, amidst the aftershocks of your own pleasure, Eddie finally lets himself go. The taut rubber band inside of him finally snaps — he cums as deep inside of you as he can with a guttural groan, curling his body around yours, hips stuttering an uneven rhythm.

The rush fades slowly, and Eddie slumps against you, pulling his cock out when it eventually softens, which wrenches another sigh from you. You both lie there together and pant, waiting for your heart rates to slow. Eddie’s warm seed starts to trickle out, adding to the wet mess between your legs.

Eddie dots a few hazy kisses to your neck, and you push the sweaty hair back from his perfect face.

With some effort, he lifts his head up, and his eyes find yours. He shoots you an exhausted grin. “You’re too good, baby. How’d I get so lucky?”

You laugh, knowing he did most of the work. “I could ask you the same thing.”

His smile softens, becoming a besotted, giddy thing. He takes your face in between his two hands, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“I love you,” he pecks at your lips, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #in retrospect. this feels like a missed opportunity to put eddie in lingerie again :(

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lovebugism · 11 months

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can I request steeb taking care of shy!reader who is upset after a bullying incident in school? I figured she would be a year younger (like robin’s grade) because I don’t think anyone would touch her if king steve was around. I feel like he’s be so soft with her but also reeling at the thought that someone hurt his girl!

thanks for ur request anon! idk if i can count this as a blrub because it's nearly 3k words but alas pls enjoy! tw for blood (knee scrapes) and j*son c*rver

You come to Family Video with a scrape on your left knee.

It’s not the weirdest thing in the world — you ride a worn-down bike that’s probably older than you are. Steve’s been begging you to get a new one for as long as he’s known you, outright offering to pay for the damn thing as long as he’s sure it’ll get you to him without getting hurt in the process.

You reject him every time. “It gets me where I need to go,” you always shrug. “What more could I want from it?”

And he wants so badly to be angry at the beauty you manage to find in mediocrity. But he can’t be, really. It’s why you fell in love with him in the first place, isn’t it? Why you took the heartbroken boy in your arms on Halloween night in 1984 and convinced him he wasn’t bullshit despite what he told you. He’d be an idiot to be mad at how kind you are.

But when you walk into Family Video, halfway limping with blood dripping down your knee, he knows it’s different.

Something more than a toppled bike hurt you.

“Oh, god, babe,” he winces from where he stands at the counter with Robin. “What happened?”

“I fell,” you shrug as he races over to you.

“You fell?” Robin scoffs. “Knock me out with a feather.” You know she’s joking, but it’s a little too monotone, and you’re a little too sensitive. Something in her words hurts more than your throbbing knee.

Steve, who knows you like the back of his hand, understands exactly what your diverted gaze means. When you look down to the floor, he shoots Robin a firm glare.

What? she mouths, obviously confused at the sudden silence.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the back? I think there might be some gauze in there,” he asks, deciding to change the conversation entirely. He wraps an arm around your waist and walks slowly with you to the counter. He meets your grimace with a soft smile. “I’ll clean it, wrap it up, and you’ll be good as new.”

You don’t give him anything in response. Not even a pity smile.

He sits you on the counter with the open first-aid kit beside you. Robin flips the store sign to closed. It’s barely five o’clock. She starts tidying up the store to go home, anyway.

Steve wipes up the warm blood with a napkin and cleans the scrape with an alcohol wipe. You hiss at the feeling — it’s like a hundred tiny bee stings. From where he sits just below you on a worn swivel chair behind the counter, he leans in to press a kiss just above the cut.

Without all the blood, it looks a lot less gnarly than before.

“See? It’s not so bad,” the boy smiles as he unravels some gauze. “I’ll patch it up, baby you for the rest of the night, and you’ll forget it ever hurt by morning.”

Again, you don’t even smile. You just purse your lips to the side and nod.

Steve’s heart stings, but he doesn’t take anything by it. He wraps the bandage down and over your knee in an even rhythm. He tries not to be so direct when he asks: “How’d this happen, anyway, huh? Did Ol’ Sliver finally give up on you?”

You shake your head, eyes on the gauze instead of the boy. The white cloth splotches with pink from where your wound still weeps. “No,” you answer quietly. “Just fell.”

“Just fell, huh?” he repeats quietly. A few caramel-colored strands fall over his forehead as he peers up at you with his chin tilted towards his chest. He tries his best to smile. “You’re givin’ me the sad eyes, babe. I feel like it was more than just a fall.”

“It was stupid…”

He scoffs. “Never.”

“A car drove by me,” you confess, only half-lying. You try to look down at him, but your gaze wavers along with your courage. “And the music was kinda loud, and it… It startled me a little.”

You don’t tell him that Jason Carver intentionally swerved on the wrong side of the road to scare you — or that he yelled mean things through the rolled-down passenger window before speeding off again. It’s easier to keep it to yourself. You don’t want it to become a whole thing.

Steve’s brows furrow as he tucks the end of the bandage to keep it from unraveling. “Were they going too fast?”

“I don’t know. Kind of.”

“It wasn’t those football assholes, was it? I swear to god, they need their license revoked.”

“No,” you answer, quick to soothe his rising anger. “It was— It wasn’t anyone. I just got scared, and I swerved off the road, okay?”

Even in your mousy voice, it sounds like you’re being stern with him. And you’re never stern with him.

“Well, that’s okay,” Steve assures with a shrug. “We all get scared. It’s better than you getting hit, I guess.”

“I guess,” you echo with a huff, a teasing smile on your lips.

Steve grins back, happy to see you less pained. He smacks a gentle kiss to your wrapped-up knee. “Go get in the car, okay? I’ll clean up here, put your bike in the trunk, and we can go home.”

You go shy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. “Your home?” you clarify, secretly hoping he’ll say yes.

His answer isn’t surprising. “Of course, my home. You practically live there, anyway.”

You smile and brush a soft kiss to the scruff of his jaw, murmuring a quiet thank you there before leaving. You’re not limping nearly as badly as you had been before.

Robin waits for the door to ding shut before blurting: “I think it was Jason.”

Steve stills with the first-aid kit in his hands. He squints at her from where she stands between the horror and X-rated horror aisles.

“What?”

“I think that’s who might’ve run her off the road.”

“…Why?”

“He gives her a hard time sometimes, I don’t know,” she explains vaguely and with a sigh. “Normally, it’s stupid. Like, honestly, I just think he’s super shit at flirting. Maybe he was just trying to scare her and… got a little carried away…”

Anger burns red hot in Steve’s chest. It blooms just behind his ribcage like a flower with fire for petals.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks through gritted teeth, trying not to sound too angry. It’s not like Robin was the one who hurt you, after all — just some douchebag who wouldn’t have laid a hand on you if he knew who your boyfriend was.

Steve’s knuckles go white as his grip tightens on the plastic box.

“Because I thought it was harmless!” Robin agonizes as she rushes to meet him. Her deep ocean eyes swim with worry, frightened that he might be angry at her. “Seriously. Most of the time, it sounds like he’s just being mean to get into her pants. And, like, I don’t know if that’s how he landed Chrissy back in the day or what, but he’s obviously got no clue what kind of girl he’s flirting with because…”

She trails off at Steve’s hardened umber gaze.

Robin groans and leans over the counter, reaching for the boy’s wrist. “Please don’t be mad at me, Stevie. My heart can take that. I’ll be sick for days—”

“I’m not mad at you, Rob,” the boy promises. He sighs. “I just gotta… go beat up a kid now.”

—————

You’re too focused on the stars and the feeling of Steve’s warm hand on your thigh to notice he’s taking the wrong route home.

The car slows way sooner than you expected. When you come back down from the clouds, you find that you’re in a near-empty lot. The car jolts softly when Steve puts it in park.

“What are we doing?” you turn to him with furrowed brows.

Steve unclicks his seatbelt. “I’ll be right back.”

You look past him, at the large building lit up by amber streetlamps and the green door with a light in its window. Every so often, someone will whip by it wearing a white jersey. Your heart sinks.

“Why are we at school?” you asked, scrunched-faced in a mixture of anger and worry. You don’t know how he knows what happened to you, only that he does know.

“I need to take care of something here. It’s okay—”

“Don’t go in there,” you plead. “Please. Let’s just go home—”

“I’ll be right back,” he repeats. He leans over the console to kiss your cheek. You don’t lean into it like you usually do.

“Steve—”

The car door shuts and cuts off the rest of your pleas.

Steve has an easy time getting into the gym. The backdoor is propped open with a small wooden block like it always is. The coaches welcome him in like usual. They beam as the old team captain waltzes into the newly painted gym like he owns the place.

“Harrington!” the burly man calls over the sounds of squeaking shoes and bouncing basketballs. “Come to turn in an application, finally? I’ve only been asking you to be co-coach since you graduated.”

Steve smiles coolly. “No. Not yet… I, uh— I actually needed to talk to one of your players.”

The man shoots him a look.

“Jason Carver.”

“Oh,” the man chuckles, a deep belly laugh. “You only wanna pull my star player out of practice, huh?”

“It’ll take, like, two seconds. Tops.”

A momentary stare-off ensues. Steve knows the answer he’s going to get. Everyone at this damn school has got a soft spot for him. Perks of being Hawkins High royalty, he figures.

“Two,” the coach says in the place of any real answer.

He takes the green whistle from his neck and blows into it. The shrill sound echoes through the gym. Like trained dogs, the boys on the court still.

“Carver!” the man shouts, almost too loudly. Steve winces from beside him. “Get over here!”

Jason passes the ball off and jogs to meet them without question. When Steve says he’s got something to tell him, the blonde-haired boy smiles like it’s a privilege. Red-faced and out of breath, he trails behind Steve as they walk out into the hallway.

“Don’t tell me you’re coming to be assistant coach,” the boy says with an audible smile. “Coach Blair has only been talking about it for a year—”

When the double doors shut behind him, Steve whips around and shoves the boy into the lockers. They clang beneath his sudden weight and echo down the empty corridor. Jason’s smug face contorts into shock. “—What the hell?”

He tries to regain his footing, but Steve only shoves him backward again. His hands twist in the neck of his jersey.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jason shouts.

Steve’s stern features never waver. He leans in close, eyes trained on the boy like a predator to prey. “Leave my girl alone,” he threatens lowly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know who your girl is—”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Steve spits in response. The lockers bang once more when he shoves the boy backward again. “Should break your leg for what you did to her. What would the star player do then, huh?”

Jason’s wide eyes flit between the both of Steve’s. He racks his brain for what he might’ve done so wrong and who he might’ve done it to. He gapes at the realization — “Bambi? Bambi’s your girlfriend?”

“Oh, that’s what you call her?” Steve muses in a monotone, feigning interest. “How cute.”

“I didn’t know, man. I swear. If I knew, I never would’ve—”

“I don’t care. And stop pleading, alright? It’s embarrassing.”

Jason goes quiet. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Steve’s hand loosens on his jersey. His ice-cold gaze never wavers.

“I don’t wanna know what you did to her. I don’t wanna know why you’re doing it, either — if you think she’s pretty, or if she’s easy-pickings for assholes like you — I don’t care.” He presses the boy further into the lockers, their noses inches apart. “But if I hear you’re messing with her, talking about her to your friends— if you so much as look in her direction again, I promise you won’t like what I do to you.”

Jason’s jaw clenches. He juts out his chin in a feeble attempt to make himself taller. “Yeah?”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

“That’s real rich coming from someone who couldn’t even beat up Jonathan Byers.”

“I’ve learned a lot since then,” the older boy promises, weirdly composed. “Feel free to find out if you don’t believe me.”

The boy stays quiet.

Steve shoves him backward when he lets go of him. He gives him a final glare and one last warning before walking back toward the gym. “And plant your feet when you’re on the court, alright? It’d be a real shame if you broke an ankle.”

—————

The drive to his house is silent.

It usually is. Most of the time, you’re too zoned into the music or making shapes in the clouds to talk. But now it’s because you’re angry. Steve would be an idiot not to notice. He can feel it radiating off of you like steam.

He reaches for the console and turns the air-con up.

“Are you hot?” he asks in a feeble attempt to break the quiet.

With your arms crossed and your gaze out the window, you deadpan: “I’m mad.”

“I feel like that’s sorta the same thing,” Steve jokes with a weak, lopsided smile.

“I didn’t want you to do that,” you choke through a tight throat. “You’re just gonna make it worse.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have gotten so bad if you would’ve just told me.”

You turn to him with eyes glassy from unshed tears. A stoplight bathes the both of you in shades of neon scarlet. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d do something about it,” you spit.

“So you’d rather let some asshole run you off the road, huh? Is that it?”

He doesn’t mean to be so harsh. He’s just upset, and the adrenaline’s making him antsy.

Steve learned a long time ago not to be so forward with you. Even if he’s just joking around, even if he’s mad and saying shit he doesn’t mean — you’re not built for that. You’re made of something softer: marshmallow fluff and crocheted yarn and flower petals. It’s why you let Jason Carver pick on you for so long without saying a word about it.

“It’s not like that,” you argue quietly, blinking back tears as you turn away from him again.

Steve sighs. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean— I’m just upset, okay? I didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know…”

“I just wish you would tell me these things, you know?”

His hand is warm on the skin of your thigh as he smooths his palm over it. Your eyes flit to your leg and then to him. You nod. “I know. I just…” Your features crumple when you trail off.

Steve squeezes your thigh in reassurance. “You just what?”

“I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle myself,” you confess quietly. “Everyone thinks I’m so weak. I didn’t want you to think that, too.”

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Steve scoffs out a laugh, like he almost can’t believe you’d even think something like that.

Your brows furrow. “No?”

“No. Not even a little bit. But as your boyfriend— ‘cause I am your boyfriend, right?”

You meet his teasing gaze with a half-hearted scowl. You’ve only been dating for a year and a half. You nod to humor him.

“Exactly. So, as your boyfriend, it’s my job to help you through the hard shit, you know? Just because you can get through it on your own doesn’t mean you have to.”

Your chest swells. You try not to smile too wide, but it’s hard not to. You’ve never had someone who wanted to protect you before. It’s as strange as it is gratifying.

“Okay,” you concede with a nod.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat with a giggle.

Steve leans over the console, moving slowly like his lips are made of magnets that drift to yours. Through the overwhelming urge to kiss you, he jokes: “Is it— and I’m just checking here— is it okay?”

You shake your head and lean to meet him halfway. “You’re such a dork.”

Your lips barely brush before a loud honk echoes behind you. You jolt apart from him, not noticing that the light had turned green until then.

Steve sighs and mourns your unkissed lips. His engine roars softly as he presses on the gas.

He’d noticed. He saw the light change about twenty seconds ago — how the bright crimson changed into a softer shade of lime that bathed you in its neon hues. He just loved the way you looked in green.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x shy!reader #stranger things fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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alientee · 3 months

Text

Alastor x Jessica Rabbit Reader Part 2

You and Alastor are walking down the street and you couldn't help but hold him even closer if possible. Everyone was staring at you, some even stopping in the middle of the street to gawk at you both. You look at Alastor to see if he's noticing the same thing but he couldn't be bothered. "Honey where are we going" Alastor smiles down at you "A lovely little place called Cannibal town. Is similar to our time line."

You look up at him nervously. "Are you sure its alright for me to be there darling... will someone try to..eat me" Alastor stops walking lifting your chin up. "Well darling you are delectable enough to eat, but rest assured anyone who comes near you with that motive will be slaughtered where they stand. Besides there's someone I would like you too meet"

You sigh placing a hand on his chest "I trust you honey" He pats your head "Good now look alive we are almost there." You walk into a nice clean town that looks true to his word somewhat similar to when you and Alastor were alive. You see many of the people working and keeping the town clean, it didn't seem like hell at all. Alastor brings you both into a nice looking shop and opens the door for you. You walk in the store and it seems so nice and cozy on the inside.

"Alastor?! oh alastor what a surprise!" A grey woman with black eyes and sharp teeth comes up towards alastor hugging him tightly "And who is this you brought with you, your such a charmer Alastor this is the second time you've come to my store with a woman in tow. And a angel no less what a surprise this is. " Alastor brings you closer to him "This treasure is my lovely wife, y/n this is Rosie one of my good friends and one hell of a overlord." Rosie looked at you with shock on her face "Your wife?! And here I thought you were an ace in the hole." Rosie laughs while Alastor just looks confused. "I still don't know what that means" You snicker. “Hate to break it to you but he still is.” Rosie grabs you both. "Come in come in we have MUCH to discuss."

Rosie takes you two to a back room with more privacy. She pulls out a small box offering it to you. "Would you like some pinky fingers hun, not that you need them your figure is to die for." You quickly but kindly refuse. "Ohhh no thank you I don't have my husbands taste for flesh hehe." Rosie put them away looking at Alastor smugly. "Oh Alastor don't tell me you thought she looked pretty enough to eat but you just couldn't do it could you? You fell too hard to soon haha"

Alastor looks at Rosie smile still on with his eyes closed. "I can assure you I never thought of such a thing" Rosie scoffs a little "You can't fool me Alastor a doll like her, you must've fantasized about a taste once an a while." You can hear the static in Alastors voice rise. "Rosie, do believe me when I say I have not, please." Rosie seems to pick up on the change of mood. "I see well tell me how you to met, I can't imagine old alastor here pulling a gal like you he's so reserved when he wants to be, no offense hon"

"Oh well we met in a jazz club and he was just dancing his heart out. I guess he had had to much whiskey because he asked me to dance and I said yes. He pulled me all over the dance floor. I was surprised I could keep up with him, next thing you know he's coming to my shows given me flowers with full blushed face and a nervous wide smile. He had me charmed being such a gentleman especially with that accent." Rosie looks even more intrigued "Alastor has an accent? Now this is news to me, where is it." You gave Alastor a look."That's what id like to know, honey?"

Alastor's smile drops a little but not by much "Well in radio you have to talk proper and clearly to give your audience a good show" You roll your eyes but let it go and keep talking to Rosie. You like her she's very kind and inviting you can see why Alastor is fond of her. Rosie gives you a hug saying if you ever saw each other again she had to get all the gossip on Alastor. As you and him are leaving he stops for a moment lifting up your chin with his finger. "So ya missed this cher?"

You blushed moving your head away. "Alastor don't you start" All he did was chuckle at you. "Why not? ya missed my accent so much. I remember how I made you shiver when I talked to ya nice." You looked at alastor a playful glare in your eyes. "Its been to long since we've been apart but I think we both know your not…. How the kids say, about that life." He looks at you funny before linking your arms. “I’ll never understand all the phrases that come up today always a diffrent one each time.”

When you roll your eyes at him his smile gets wider kissing your forehead. "Lets go to our next destination" You feel him put his arm over your shoulder leading you forward. "Which is?" "A theme Park named LuLu World, we didn't have one of those when we were alive." you nodded "Oh yes the first one came out when I was in my 80's. I could never go see it for myself." Alastor pulled you along faster "Well wait no longer here we are!" You look around and its nothing but bright colorful lights, contraptions you'd never seen and loads of food everywhere with people in costumes.

"Oh wow this is a lot to take in" Alastor grabs your hand holding it tighter than you would've wanted. " Stay very close to me who knows who's watching. Wouldn't want my mon amour to get lost or hurt." You smiled slightly a little worried but ready to have fun.

"I don't know Vox I don't think Tv's should be on rides, you could shatter If your not careful haha" Vox rolled his eyes eating his cotton candy. "Oh fuck you Val, maybe you shouldn't get on a roller coaster, might fly away with those fat ass wings." Valentino flinched " Oh you take that back you wide faced B-!" Velvette pushes herself between both of them. "Hey you lot, while you two are ova here bitchin, that radio demons got a bad bitch on his arm, looks like a angel literally."

Both of them look over to where she was talking about and she was right. There was Alastor walking hand and hand with an angel. Vox pushes forward he couldn't believe this shit. "What the fuck is someone like that doing with Alastor! I'm following him, that old timey prick is up to something. I refuse for him to get ahead of me in what ever the fuck he's doing." The other V's roll their eyes following his league. They ended up following behind the two for a few minutes not realizing that Alastor's shadow had noticed them.When the shadow warned Alastor he clenched his smile, he refused for these idiots to ruin what was a lovely date to his wife.

Alastor uses his shadows to stop them in there place making them all fall on there face. Alastor pushes you on your lower back, speeding up your movement. "Come dear there is so much more to see, look over there a clown show." You turn your head intrigued at the many tricks the clowns showed even if they looked deadly.

Vox gets up angry , his screen slightly buffering. "That fucking coward, I'll give that piece of shit something to smile about." Vox starts looking around trying to find anything heavy but only seeing stuffed animals. Growing frustrated he grabs the first thing that looks heavy and throws it at Alastor. Alastor feels a heavy object smack him right in the back of the head making him fall forward, he catches himself picking up whatever Vox threw ready to smack him in the face with it. He turned around to see Vox flipping him off. "Thats what you get bitch"

His antlers grew with his eyes turning into dials, voodoo symbols surrounding him. " Oh Alastor is that for me!" Alastor turns back to normal, he finally looks at what's in his hand. It's a multicolored glass sculpture of flowers. He took the opportunity to shove them into you with a smile larger than usually. "Of course sweetie, anything for my baby" He pulls you closer flipping Vox and the other two off while walking away.

Both Velvette and Valentino look at Vox while he's fuming. Velvette speaks up first "You know you helped him rizz right?" Vox turns around making a scene "I CAN FUCKING SEE THAT. How in the fuck did he land someone so out of his league, that prudish jackass! It's not fair!" Valentino just looks at them walking away raising an eyebrow. "That virgin is so not hitting that right"

As you and Alastor walk through the theme park you couldn't help but feel a little clingy. Spending this much time together is making you nostalgic. It made you feel like you and Alastor where as happy as you used to be. "Come on Alastor, let's go home, I'll make you some jambalaya." He looks at you with a smile as wide as his eyes right now. He lowers his face to your's his radio static making his voice deeper. "That sounds lovely."

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim

#hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin x reader

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

Text

Eddie lives.

Just barely.

Steve and Nancy carry him out of the upside down, with the help of a sobbing Robin and a screaming Dustin. They get him out. They get him safe. They get him to the hospital.

The government clears his name. They clean up Hawkins as best they can. All while Eddie is in a coma. The doctors don't know if he'll ever wake up. Steve sits next to Wayne everyday. Waiting. They talk. Get close.

And almost 3 months later. Eddie wakes up. He smiles at Wayne, reaches for his hand with tears in his eyes. And once they're done hugging, his eyes land on steve. Full of confusion, his hands gripping Wayne's shirt tightly, his head shaking.

He doesn't remember.

Anything.

He remembers meeting Chrissy after school, taking her back to the trailer. And then nothing. Steve feels his chest ache, feels tears coming. He excuses himself quickly, and then he runs.

~°~

He hears about Eddie, through Dustin. He helps Eddie around school now, helps with his classes too. Eddie is different now. Quieter. Dustin tells him this. Tells him he really only seems like old Eddie when they meet for hellfire.

But Dustin also tells him that he's pretty sure Eddie thinks maybe he did kill Chrissy. Because people talk. The town talks. And no amount of hush money can make people less vindictive and awful. Can't make the way they call him a freak with more venom now than they ever did before, go away.

But the thing is. Eddie still sees so much. About people. About how they're feeling. If they're upset, and sometimes why they are. He's observant in a way that Steve has never been able to get used too.

And Dustin drags Steve and Robin and Nancy back into Eddie's orbit. Willing their closeness to bring their Eddie back. He gets closer with Dustin and Lucas than before. Even apologizes to Lucas unprompted, about how harsh he was about hellfire that day. Asks for his sports schedule to make sure they don't overlap again.

And Steve's chest keeps aching. Because Eddie has learned from the things he can't even fucking remember.

Dustin drags Eddie around them all. And Steve can't help the way he looks at him. Can't help the way he watches him. But every now and then. He finds Eddie watching him back. Both of them startling and looking away.

But Steve always glances back at Eddie, has to keep his eyes on him. He'd spent so much time in that hospital room, watching Eddie sleep, and not move, and be still and silent. And he'd hated it.

So he watches him. Watches him move. Watches him smile. Watches him hold up a move case to Dustin, a funny voice floating from behind it. It makes Dustin laugh and Steve smile. And Eddie sees it. Looks up and locks eyes with Steve as he watches them goof around the store, and he doesn't look away.

But steve does. He has too. Because there's no recognition behind Eddie's eyes. Not the way Steve wants there to be.

~°~

Three months later Lucas and Dustin show up at his door, looking worried. It's late friday night. Steve had to work so he couldn't pick them up from hellfire, but they were both still clutching their dnd manuals to their chests.

Steve doesn't even have time to open his mouth before dustin says,

"He's remembering." And Steve's heart flutters but he stays as calm as possible, lets the boys in.

"What do you mean he's remembering?" Steve asks, all of them falling into chairs and couches in his living room.

"The new campaign. It's got.... things. The bats. The vines. It's even got a creepy house." Lucas says, slowly, like he's afraid to tell Steve. Steve frowns, nods.

"There's other stuff too. There's a few characters, npcs, they're a lot like you and Robin. There's one that could be Nancy, with a stretch. But your's is... playing a big part." Dustin grimaces when he says it, and Steve's cheeks burn, maybe Dustin sees more than he lets on.

"What? What kinda part? And does he know? That it's me? That it's...that it's real?" Steve asks, his hands rubbing over his jeans roughly, his palms damp as he presses them against his thigh.

"We don't think so. Not really. But he gets this look in his eyes sometimes. When certain things happen. He'll look at us, me and Dustin, and it's like..." Lucas shakes his head, like he doesn't know how to describe it.

"It's like he's challenging us. To say something. To like- confirm the things he's saying? Like he knows that we know something. That we know it's real." Dustin swallows, hard.

"And then it passes. And he's back to normal DM Eddie. Just, doing his normal shit. It's- it's weird. There's something there. And we thought... maybe..." Lucas trails off, glances at Steve. His stomach drops.

"You thought what?" He asks, but he knows.

"We thought maybe you could talk to him." Dustin says, a cringy smile on his face.

"Why me?" Steve asks, but he's already thinking about what he'll say to Eddie. How he's supposed to talk about this.

Lucas shrugs,

"Because he seems fixated on you. Not in a weird way. Just... you're in the campaign. A lot. And he asked Dustin about you last week." Lucas says, looking to Dustin so he can be out of Steve's attention.

"He what?" Steve asks, eyes locking on Dustin, who glares at Lucas.

"It was nothing bad!!!" Dustin screeches, holds his hands up.

"He just... asked if you and Nancy were still dating. Had this confused look on his face, like he was trying to peice something together." Dustin shrugs, like it's nothing. Like his words didn't just completely shift Steve's world.

"I'll do it."

~°~

He goes to Eddie's the next day. Knows he'll be home. Wayne's been taking weekends off to spend time with him.

Wayne opens the door, smiles softly when he sees it's steve.

"Hey kid. Was startin to wonder if I'd be seeing you again." He says, his voice soft, but happy. Not accusing like Steve had been worried he might be. Steve sighs, smiles back.

"Hey Wayne. I uh... I was wondering if I could talk to Eddie? If he's around?" He shrugs, pretends they both don't know that Eddie doesn't leave the house much anymore. Wayne looks at him for a moment, really looks at him, and then he's smiling again and motioning for Steve to come inside.

"He's in his room. I'm gonna go for a walk. I won't be far. Holler if you need me." Wayne says, and steps through the door. Leaving Steve standing alone. He takes a deep breath and walks down the hall.

Eddie's sitting in bed, scribbling in a notebook in his lap. Steve clears his throat and Eddie's head snaps up. He sees Steve and shuts the notebook quickly, rearranges himself, sits up a bit straighter. But there's no look of confusion this time. Steve raises his hand, wiggles his fingers, hovering in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Hey. Can I come in?" He asks, and he's nearly whispering, not sure why.

"Hey." Eddie says, nods and waves for Steve to come into his room. He does. And then he stands awkwardly in the middle of Eddie's room, not sure what to do or where to go from here. Eddie snorts, and Steve's eyes jump to his face, find him smirking, just a little, his eyes full of amusement.

"You can sit if you want." Eddie taps his foot against the bed twice before pulling his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them and watching Steve as he sits across from him after kicking his shoes off. He sits cross legged, looking at Eddie look at him.

"So Dustin wanted me to talk to you." He says, apropos of nothing. Good start Steve. Eddie's eyebrows jump on his head.

"Dustin..." Eddie trails off, watching Steve. Steve nods, slowly. Can't seem to gage whether Eddie is fucking with him, or waiting to see just how much Steve will divulge without being prompted.

"About the new campaign. And some of the... stuff. You've been putting in it." He frowns, but Eddie's eyes flash dark for a moment, and Steve's sure this is the look the boys had mentioned. And like they said, it's gone in a flash.

"What about it?" Eddie asks, his voice a touch higher. Steve sighs, rubs at his face. He really should have brought Robin, or Nancy. He shouldn't be the one doing this. He pushes his hands through his hair and then finds Eddie staring at him.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eddie asks, his voice quiet. Steve blinks at him.

"It's a weird question. And I don't" he pauses, his face scrunching, like he's in pain.

"You can ask me. Whatever it is. It's okay." Steve assures him, has to curl his fingers into his pants to keep from reaching out to Eddie, wanting to sooth him. Eddie frowns, is silent for a moment before he looks at Steve.

"Were we-" he stops, shakes his head, his fingers pressing into his comforter by his foot.

"Were we... something?" He's frowning again, his head shaking gently as his eyes jump around and then land on Steve, he looks like he might be about to cry.

"Uhh... what do you mean by something?" Steve asks slowly. Eddie wraps his arms around his knees again, tucks his feet closer, presses his lips to his knee before he takes a breath.

"I keep having these dreams." He says, eyes on the bed between them.

"And you're in them. And it just feels..." he shakes his head again, sniffs, and Steve can't help it. He moves forward, curls his fingers around Eddie's ankle. Eddie sucks in a shakey breath, his eyes snapping to Steve.

"Feels like what?" Steve asks, softly. Eddie stares, his eyes watery.

"It feels so real. And then I see you. Here. With Dustin. Or at family video. And it just..." he shakes his head again,

"It just feels like I'm missing something. Until I see you. And then it feels... like I've found it. But.... not? Because we aren't. I mean we weren't.... were we?" He's frowning now, tears falling, and he looks so confused, and hurt. Steve licks his lips, shakes his head, slowly, and almost crumbles when Eddie nods, quickly, and looks away, pulls his ankle away from Steve.

"Yeah. No I figured. Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Eddie looks so small, curls around himself, not looking at Steve.

"Eddie it's-" he doesn't know what to say, or how to say it. So he bites his lip, remembers the way Eddie smiled up at him in that fucking RV and decides to tell him the truth.

"We weren't. No. But I- I wanted to be. I just realized it too late." Steve watches as Eddie turns to him, slowly, his eyes wide. Steve shrugs, give him a sad smile.

"You- you wanted- with me?" Eddie's voice is high, disbelieving. Steve nods.

"Yeah. But I didn't make it back in time. And then you were dying. And then you didn't remember and I-" his voice breaks, tears blurring his vision, burning his throat, he clears it, tries again.

"I just thought it would be better to let you go. Get back to normal. I didn't wanna... push you. You needed to heal. So I just..." Steve moves his hand in front of him, gesturing to nothing, hoping Eddie understands.

"You stayed away." And of course Eddie does, get it. Steve smiles, huffs, shakes his head and wipes at his face. And then he sees Eddie's notebook pushed into view. Eddie holding it out to him.

"I didn't forget. Not really." Eddie says, nodding to the notebook, holding it until Steve takes it. He moves to open it, checks with Eddie first, looking at him, Eddie nods.

Steve flips the first page open and his breath catches. A tornado of demo bats fills the page. It's followed by pages of vines. Pages of Chrissy. Pages of Dustin, and Nancy, and Robin, Max and Erica.

All of them. Some of them in the RV. Some of them riding bikes. All of them littered with drawings of Steve. Steve in the boathouse, Steve being strangled by bats, Steve with blood in his mouth from killing said bats. Steve wrapped in bandages, and Steve wearing Eddie's vest. Pages and pages and pages of Steve.

He looks back, sees Eddie watching him.

"I've been dreaming about you. I dreamed about you in the hospital too. And as good as my imagination is, it's never been this good." He smiles a little.

"It just seemed so unreal. I mean... Steve Harrington? It didn't make sense." He almost laughs then, a breathy little sound as he shakes his head again. Steve snorts.

"Yeah. Trust me. I was just as surprised as you. Eddie Munson wasn't really something I was prepared for." Steve admits, smiles at Eddie.

"So you... what you like me?" Eddie asks, nose scrunching, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Yeah. Little bit. I just didn't get the chance to see if you liked me back." Steve shrugs. Eddie laughs then, and it sounds maniacal.

"What?" Steve huffs, his chest feeling lighter already, just the sound of Eddie's laugh after so long making him wanna smile.

"Dude. I've had an unfortunate crush on you since freshman year." Eddie sighs, rolls his eyes. Steve bites his lips, feeling himself going red.

"Really?" Steve asks, his hand inching back toward Eddie's ankle.

"Yeah. Never thought I'd get to even be on your radar. But then these dreams..." he picks up the notebook and drops it again. Steve laughs.

"You were on my radar. We had classes together." Steve mumbles, his ears feeling hot.

"Was I? Really? You seemed pretty wrapped around any girl who smiled at you." Eddie says, teasing, shoving his toes at Steve, pushing them under his thigh. Steve grabs his ankle again, squeezes.

"You were. I just... didn't know it... back then. Didn't know what I was feeling." He shakes his head, frowning. They sit in silence for awhile, and then Eddie taps the notebook again.

"All this stuff is real then? The bats, and the vines, and that creepy house? This all happened?" He sounds unsure again. Steve nods slowly, widens his eyes, stares at Eddie's comforter.

"All real." Steve confirms.

"Could you-" Eddie starts, his hand reaching out, fingers curling around Steve's wrist. Steve blinks at him.

"Would you tell me? Tell me all the stuff I don't remember?" Eddie asks, his fingers squeezing.

"Like a story?" Steve asks, his free hand moving to cover Eddie's. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. I remember a lot I think, I just need... I need you to tell me what order? Or like... how they happened. So I can peice it together." His brow furrows, like he's not sure. Steve smiles, moves his hand up Eddie’s arm, cups his cheek and smiles when Eddie leans into the touch.

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything." Steve breathes between them, his thumb soothing over Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flutter, he leans closer, Steve leans forward too, like he's being pulled by a magnet. But he feels like he should have been here months ago, like maybe he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"Steve?" Eddie whispers his name between them, Steve can feel his breath on his lips.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, his eyes darting between Eddie's lips and his eyes.

"Have we done this before?" He asks, his voice small. Steve smiles, bumps his nose into Eddie's, his head shaking slightly.

"No. This is new." Steve breathes, his fingers moving into the hair at the nape of Eddie neck.

"Oh. Good. I like it." Eddie laughs, a small thing, he sounds giddy. Steve huffs a laugh too, pulls Eddie just a fraction closer.

"I like it too Ed's." He breathes the words against Eddie's lips and closes the space. Smiling into the kiss when Eddie hums happily, his hands grabbing at Steve's shirt.

~°~

They lay in Eddie's bed for the rest of the day, Steve telling him everything. All about Chrissy, and the upside down, and El and Max, all about Vecna. He tells him everything. All of it. And tries not to make it too much about how Eddie got under his skin. Won him over. Made him fall, hard, for this weird nerdy metal head.

And mostly it works, or Steve thinks so, until the moment he's finished talking. Done answering Eddie's questions, there are several. And Eddie pokes him in the ribs and teases.

"You've got it bad for me huh?" Wiggling his fingers and making Steve squirm. Steve grabs his hands, rolls them over and presses Eddie into the matress. His hands move up Eddie’s wrists, lace their fingers together as Eddie blinks up at him, owlish eyes locked on him.

"Yeah. I've got it bad Munson. That okay with you?" Eddie's mouth opens and Steve dives in, doesn't wait for his answer.

But he doesn't need too. Eddie's dreams had been full of Steve, just like Steve's had been full of him.

#Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #my writing #mine #my fic

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lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 11 months

Text

Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window

"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly

Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff

AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.

Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).

The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.

Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.

After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.

When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.

“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.

You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.

“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.

“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.

It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.

“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.

You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.

Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.

John Marston:

You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.

John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.

When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.

Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.

Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.

It was like love at first sight.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.

“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”

John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”

Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.

John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.

He may have been getting ahead of himself.

Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.

He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).

He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.

It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.

Then he met you.

You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.

It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.

Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.

You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.

He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.

The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.

Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.

Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.

You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.

You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.

“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”

You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.

“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.

You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.

“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.

That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.

On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.

He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.

Javier Escuella:

You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.

Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.

“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”

The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.

Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.

You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.

Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.

From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.

Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.

Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.

You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.

You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.

“Mi amor?”

You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.

At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave - he did not expect you to usher him inside.

You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.

You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.

It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.

He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.

Charles Smith:

Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.

You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.

When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.

As you grew older, your feelings grew too.

You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.

Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.

Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.

Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.

It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.

Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.

It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.

You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.

One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.

You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.

That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.

You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.

“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.

He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.

“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”

It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.

Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.

You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.

“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”

You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.

Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)

Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.

Sean MacGuire:

The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.

Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.

Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.

He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.

Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.

He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.

His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.

“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.

He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.

“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.

You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.

Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.

After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.

Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.

He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.

“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”

Sean was in love immediately.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.

The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.

Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.

She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.

She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.

She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.

You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.

You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.

She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.

Then, it grew to be a little more.

Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.

She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.

Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.

After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.

Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.

Friend by day, girlfriend by night.

Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.

She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)

Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.

The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.

<><><><>

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euphoriaslux · 2 months

Text

a gloomy december morning

word count: 1196

warnings: suggestive sexual content, very slight jealousy, mentions of smoking and drinking. vincent being a dreamboat

a/n: i have never written before but i watched anatomy of a fall and knew what i had to do. i am so scared and think this is garbage but i hope u guys like it :))

vincent is fast asleep, a true rarity for your household. he’s naked, bar the thin linen blanket draped over his hips that his mother tossed in a bag when you two first moved into this home. you brush your fingers through his silver hair, shifting to give him a soft peck on his forehead. he shifts but ultimately stays in the same position.

smiling, you gently move your duvet off of your body, shivering at the lost warmth. you scan your shared bedroom, littered with strewn clothes, empty wine bottles and folders filled with documents and find a chair with an old tee shirt on it that hits just above your underwear.

you made a mental note to at least try to clean the house sometime soon, but you just couldn’t leave your vincent alone now that you finally had him for more than two hours at a time. after a year of only seeing him at night, or when you could visit his office during your lunch break, or over facetime in the early hours of the morning, something as simple as waking up with him felt sacred. you didn’t know how much of this you had.

you brace as you push the door close as quietly as possible, hissing as your feet hit the cold tile of the linoleum of your kitchen floor. it still smells vaguely of the cake you two shared last night, picking at pieces of tiramisu between gulps of white wine and sneaky kisses even though no one was watching. you grab some ground coffee and start to heat up your stovetop espresso maker, which you got at the insistence of your very stubborn husband.

“love, can’t we just get an instant coffee maker? it will be so much faster” you ask from behind your laptop, tucked into your velvet sofa as the december rain gently pattered onto your roof.

vincent chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the drawer.

“you have not had a real cappuccino if it comes from a machine, chérie,” he says as he rummages through the kitchen drawers while swearing under his breath.

you rise from the couch with a soft sigh, shutting your laptop and placing it on the glass table in front of you and grabbing vincent’s lighter that’s pressed in between the couch cushions. his head whips around when he hears you click the lighter, and your cheeks widen as you walk over to him. vincent smiles back, his cigarette loosely hanging between his lips and his hair slightly disheveled from his search. he leans down ever so slightly, looking into your eyes as the flame lights the cigarette, taking a long drag before leaning against the kitchen counter.

“the coffee is more, how do you say bien équilibrée in english, darling?”

“well rounded,” you toss the lighter behind him, crossing your arms over your chest. he hums, nodding as he breathes out wafts of smoke.

“the coffee is more well-rounded,” the word sounds a little funny coming out of his mouth as if you could see his brain forming each letter in real-time. you can’t help but giggle, reaching behind him to open the kitchen window.

“i’m sure it is”

before you can fully stand up again his hand is on your lower back, softly bringing your body against his. he smells like tobacco and the slightly too minty toothpaste you buy from the convenience store down the road. he looks so beautiful in the dim winter light.

“tu me fais confiance, n'est-ce pas? (you trust me, don’t you?)” he asks, pressing his fingers into your side. he moves to hover just above your neck, and you can’t help but melt into his touch as he nibbles ever so gently on your neck, just below your ear. your eyes flutter closed and you feel the warmth pool in your lower stomach.

“vincent-”

“ you do, right?” he cuts you off as his hand wanders to the front of your body, playing with the waistband of your panties. his fingers ghost just above your cunt, and you sigh.

“of course, my love. always.”

you whine from the loss of contact as he steps away from you, taking a drag with a slight smile on his face.

“bon,” he says, his free hand caressing the side of your face.

“so we’ll go get our moka pot - not machine - tonight”.

you grin at the memory as you pour two shots of espresso into vincent’s favorite mug, along with a splash of whole milk, and turn on the burner to make another for yourself. you rock on your feet as you think of what to make for breakfast - maybe eggs? but vincent forgot to run to the farmers market, maybe jam on toast. there might be some leftover brioche-

you jump when you feel a pair of hands wrap around your chest smiling as you feel your husbands face nuzzle into your shoulder, pressing a few faint kisses on your skin while his hair tickles your neck.

“i thought you’d sleep for a few more hours honey,” you say, turning around to hand him his cup of coffee and laughing as his eyes brighten. he takes a sip, closing his eyes as he drinks.

“couldn’t sleep,” he says after a few moments, opening his eyes to stare into yours. his voice is deeper than normal, and you can tell he just woke up because there’s still a gravelly edge to it.

“i sleep poorly without you, honey.”

you raise your eyebrows as you let your fingers graze his chest and down his stomach.

“that’s a good one, do you tell all your girlfriends that?”

he rolls his eyes, taking a big sip before setting his mug on the counter.

“i’m being serious. i swear, every time it would get late and i’d try to sleep on sandra’s couch, i just couldn’t.”

your body goes rigid at the sound of her name but you try and ignore it, tracing circles onto his stomach. your mouth feels a little drier than it was a few minutes before.

vincent notices, of course he does. there’s nothing you could do that would get past him, the stellar lawyer.

“don’t be like that,” he whispers, cupping your hand in his face. you try to keep your gaze down but he tilts your head up.

you roll your eyes.

“every day while i was gone, all i wanted was to be home with you. you were all i could think about. you are all i ever think about.”

you feel lightheaded at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him deeply, sighing as your hand wanders down to the waistband of his boxers. you feel him smile into the kiss, putting out the cigarette so he has both hands free to touch you.

“take me to bed?”

you feel vincent’s stomach tense as your hand dips into his boxers. he gives you a soft kiss on the side of your face.

“how can i say no when you ask so nicely”.

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi fanfiction #swann arlaud #swann arlaud x reader #swann arlaud fanfiction #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d’une chute #anatomy of a fall fanfiction

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tonyboneysblog · 18 days

Text

MOTHER HEN: PART FOUR

parings: hawks x mother!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: none!

notes: “die Ryuji” we all say in unison while holding hands. (Thought it would be appropriate to post this on Mother’s Day…)

summary: You, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

It had only been a few days since the villains attacked U.A. high, your son Fumikage said he had something important to tell you.

“Don’t get mad, okay?” Tokoyami says while twirling his fingers together.

“Just tell me Fumikage” you reply with annoyance. you hated it when Fumikage dragged things out, felt like he was about to tell you a family member died but really all he did was accidentally break a plate.

you don’t know why he became like that, he used to just clean it up and go on with his day.

“U.A. is going to have their sports festival, and I was wondering-“

“Already? Didn’t they just get attacked by villains.” You say with a disapproving tone, seriously what was U.A. doing…

“They wanted to prove that this attacked hasn’t affected us.”

“I doubt that’s going to go well.”

showing the villains all of the students skills sets is such an amazing idea U.A.! You thought with sarcasm dripping from it, you didn’t want to say that infront of Fumikage- he likes that school too much.

Fumikage hesitates slightly, “Do you think you be able to see it?”

You sigh. “I’ll have to see my schedule.”

Fumikage looks down in disappointment but tries his best not to show it.

“But hey, I’ll try my absolute best to see my amazing boy win.” You tap his chin, making his eyes face you.

“Promise?” He says quietly.

“Pinkie.” You raise your pinkie finger, Fumikage chuckles and shakes his head.

“You can’t break a pinkie promise, mama.” He interlocks his pinkie with yours.

You smile at him, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Fumi.”

You were glad that Fumikage asked you to watch him at the sports festival, all your friends joke about how he’s just some emo teen who’ll scream at you about how “it’s not a phase!”

you didn’t really care if it wasn’t a phase anyway. You’ll love Fumikage in whatever form he’s in.

Speaking of your friends, they have recently asked you to go clubbing with them on the weekend saying, “you need a break, sweet cheeks.”

You accepted gratefully and as the clubbing day came close Fumikage always came home and told you all about his classmates.

He spoke a lot of one named shoji, you hope with all your heart they become good friends.

When Fumikage was younger his only friend was dark shadow.

you never want to hear him say, “what’s wrong with me, mom?” Just because kids

used to be scared of him and his quirk.

Now it was time to do one of your favorite things ever, but groceries.

You caught Fumikage trying to sneak out of the house and do it himself but you tackled him back into his bed until he gave up.

Grocery shopping was always so calming for you, Fumikage used to come all the time until some old women asked if he was even yours.

sure he had a bird head just like his father but- still super rude!

Putting your groceries into the cart then checking them off your list, you finally made it to your last one.

Chocolate chip Cookie mix.

Fumikage recently said that the cooking hero made one of the best cookies he’s ever eaten and you will never accept that.

Mamas cookies will be better! well when

you can actually grab the box.

The box mix was on one of the highest shelves in the store, you jump once to grab it- you miss.

you jump again, and miss.

Thirds times a charm right? You jump once more and instead of grabbing it you just push it back more.

well you suppose it’s time to start climbing shelves.

But then a calloused hand came to save you, you immediately think it’s hawks- he’s always somewhere near you.

A deeper voice say your name, “Y/n..?”

Not hawks.

You don’t turn around, your too scared to

suddenly your thankful to that old women who accidentally made Fumikage stop coming with you, you wouldn’t want him here-not now.

You turn around.

Hawks off days were usually spent inside relaxing or trying his very best to actually relax.

lazily getting one of bed, the one with your weighted blanket, he makes his way to the Kitchen.

Grabbing the cereal box, he tries his best to pour it into the bowl but nothing goes in.

Well looks like he needs to go the grocery store.

Getting dressed in a simple outfit he makes his way outside then flies off to the store!

hawks always liked his little adventures, he hoped he’d see you on this one but he highly doubts it.

But hey, speak of the devil because you’re right there in the aisle when he walks into the store!

Seems like you’re talking to a man, nice looking, about 6’ foot with dark brown hair.

Hawks has never heard you talk about your friends, mostly about your son- what was his name again?

You look…scared? Which is weird because at first hawks just thought this was an old friend you were talking to but..

why would you look scared?

Hawks sends over a small baby feather to let you know he’s there, you shouldn’t be scared.

he’ll keep you safe.

His feather tickles your back softly, you jump at first but keep your attention towards the man infront of you.

“So, how’s Fumikage?” His deep voice says.

“Fine.” You say quickly.

He sighs, “look y/n, I know we left off on a bad note but I’m better now.”

He says all of these words so soft and kind, but you remember when that same exact voice pinned your son against a wall and screamed at him.

why would Ryuji even care about how Fumikage is doing.

“Y/n?”

You snap out of that thought, “what.”

“It’s nice to see you again, you look good.”

Ryuji and that sliver tongue of his, always trying to butter you up.

“Thank you, Ryuji, but I have to leave.. Fumi-“

“Could I talk to you a little bit at least.” He raises his voice.

He’s blocking you in, what are you supposed to do?

“Please Ryuji-“

“Everything okay here, sweetheart?” A cheerful voice calls next to you.

It’s hawks, he has a lazy smile on his face you can’t really tell if he’s angry or not also- sweetheart?

“And who are you?” Ryuji asks hawks, who doesn’t know hawks though…

“Well I’m her-…” hawks paisss for a moment, “boyfriend!”

Ryuji chuckles softly, “sure you are..”

You sigh at hawks terrible attempt of pretend.

“Ryuji, that is hawks- he’s...” you look at hawks for a split second, “my boyfriend.”

You can see ss hawks wings flutter for a moment, not a good time for him to be acting all embarrassed.

Ryuji stammers, “Oh, I-..I just wanted to say to you y/n that I’m real-“

you cut him off, “why are you out so early?”

“Hell y/n, you know they don’t really double down on all the ‘domestic abuse’ bullshit.” Ryuji says curtly.

You can see hawks face twist in realization on who this man actually is, you’ve only told him about Ryuji once or twice before.

Ryuji continues, “where’s Fumikage anyway, don’t he always come out with you?”

“He stopped coming out a little while back.”

“Terrible thing really, he’s a good kid.” Ryuji says softly, almost like he’s talking to himself.

“Didn’t think he was a good kid when you were with me.” You say with distain dripping from your mouth.

You don’t really understand why your being like this with Ryuji, maybe hawks is giving you some boost of confidence.

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” Ryuji snaps back.

“Don’t you speak to her like that.” Hawks finally gets himself involved in the small spat.

Ryuji pauses, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You can see Ryujis fists tightening slowly, that’s never a good sigh with him.

“I will make your life miserable bird boy, even when you’re sleeping.”

Hawks steps closer to him, “You wanna go?”

You know Ryuji, he never makes an empty threat.

You grab hawks shoulder, “W-we’re sorry Ryuji.” You stare at the ground, not daring to face him.

“You need to keep his damn squawking to a minimum, y/n.” Ryuji says bitterly.

Hawks looks at you with confusion, you were just talking back to him weren’t you? Where did the confident side of you suddenly disappear to?

You step closer to Ryuji, whispering.

Hawks doesn’t pick up on it, ryuji seems like he’s staring straight through his soul.

You retreat next to hawks, Ryuji scoffs and starts to walk away towards the next aisle.

You let out the breath you were holding, finally relaxing.

“What’d you say to him?” Hawks cocks his head curiously.

“Nothing important.”

“Everything you say is Important to me.” Hawks says softly.

You pause, you won’t tell hawks about Ryujis quirk. You hope that he decides not to use it on him, even after you mouthed off to him.

Ryuji always used his quirk after you fought about something, you would go to bed and he would haunt you in your sleep.

You’d beg for his forgiveness every time, you never stood your ground.

Him hurting Fumikage made you change though.

“I just told him to stay away from Fumikage

That was a lie, hawks accepted it anyways.

Hawks shifts into his more happy go lucky mood, “Are you almost done with shopping?”

“Yea actually, I just needed that cookie mix up there.” You point towards the highest shelf.

Hawks chuckles softly and sends a feather up to get it, “make sure to give me some after you’re done baking.”

“Do you wanna make it with me?” You offer.

Hawks feels his heart skip a beat, you? Asking him to be in your kitchen? Baking sweet treats?

It wasn’t even a question.

“What kind of person would I be if I declined someone in need?” He smiles brightly.

You and hawks proceed to the check out, you’re quite lucky you encountered him at the store because there were almost far too many bags for you to carry.

you walked to the store as well so you couldn’t even put them all into your trunk, thanks for saving the day once again hawks!

He carries way more bags than you do, you’re a little worried he may blow out his back from all the weight but he seems fine.

You notice Ryuji as the two of you walk away, instead of staring at you he stares dead at Hawks.

You try your best to ignore it and continue walking towards your house.

After a couple minutes of walking, Hawks speaks up.

“Your house is just around the corner right?”

“Yep, it’s the white house.”

He snickers, “can’t believe I’ll be meeting the president.”

“Trust me when I say Fumikage is not the president.” You say sternly.

“Could I be your body guard, I heard you were hiring- Mrs President~” he says teasingly.

“You’re more like my stalker and less than some bodyguard.”

Hawks face twists into pure horror, sure he always bumps into you but that doesn’t mean he’s a stalker!

though he wouldn’t mind being your stalker in another universe…

You break through this thoughts with your small fit of giggles, laughing about his ‘silly face’ as you put it.

He was just glad you were looking at him.

Finally the both of you made it to your home, Fumikage left a note by the fridge that said he went to some training thing.

He always worried you, you much rather he called than leaving you some cryptic note- but then again you do the same thing.

Hawks picks up the note, reading it over.

“Hard worker ain’t he?” He chuckles quietly.

You smile, “Yea, just like his father.”

Hawks stiffens slightly, “His father?”

“Mhm, we met at the same hero school actually, he was the top of his class.”

Hawks raises his eyebrows in surprise, “You were training to become a hero?”

“Yea, then I found out I was pregnant with Fumikage so…kinda gave up on that pipe dream. That’s why I became a nurse instead, I still wanted to help people y’know?” You say with a soft smile.

Hawks nods with understanding hum.

He’s quiet for a moment, “And then you met Ryuji?”

“I met him when Fumikage was eleven, Ryuji promised me the world when reality he just gave me a rock.” You laugh at your own bad joke.

You hand hawks a bowl filled with the cookie mix and the milk, even though they’re not completely home made it’s a lot easier and less time consuming.

You speak up, “So, how about your love life?”

Hawks can feel himself choke on his own spit, you? Asking about his love life? His day just keeps getting better.

“Actually I’ve never really dated anyone, always too busy.” He sighs.

You gasp a small, “really?!”

He chuckles at your bewilderment.

“I mean I just thought some with your looks would have one by now!”

Hawks ears go red, even after all that training to control his poker face he still can’t resist blushing at a genuine compliment.

He can hear you chuckle, grabbing his ears and tugging slightly.

You giggle, he loves the sound, “Sorry for making you all bashful.”

One of his wings smacks your arm, you chuckle and shake your head then you bring a pan next to Hawks.

“Your done mixing right?”

He nods and you bump him out of the way, taking the bowl and starting to roll the mixture between your hands.

Hawks admires your handy work with content, he likes hanging around with you.

You spot him staring from the corner of your eye, “Need something, birdie?”

His wings flutter softly, “nothing in particular.”

You finish your work and place the cookies into the oven, Turing around face a relaxed Hawks.

Hawks watched you as you lean against the oven, staring back at him.

Hawks speaks quietly,

“Question.”

“Answer.”

“Is Fumikages father in a mental institution?”

Now it was your turn to choke on your own spit, “what?”

“I mean he must be insane for leaving someone like you…”

You laugh, “well aren’t you the charmer?”

“Only for you.”

You pause, is hawks pinning for you or something?

He steps closer towards you, looking away slightly.

You lean more into the oven, “hawks?”

He steps closer, caging you in, “y/n.”

You can feel his breath come in contact with your face, smells minty.

“I-“

The door suddenly opens, “mother, I’m home!”

It’s Fumikage!

…it’s Fumikage, who will soon walk into you and some man on the brink of canoodling.

You push Hawks off quickly, speedily walking over to where Fumikage is supposed to be.

“Fumi! Did you have fun training?” You open your arms for a hug.

Fumikage accepts it and hums.

You kiss the top of his head then ruffle his feathers, “you smell terrible.”

“Mother…”

“Go take a shower, cookies are in the oven.” You say with a smile.

Fumikage nods and starts to walk over to the bathroom, the one that passes the kitchen.

Until a terrifying scream comes from the kitchen, quite high pitched…

“Fumi?!” You call worriedly.

“M-MOTHER THERE IS A MAN IN OUR HOME.” You peek out into the hallway only to see dark shadow out, mostly about to beat the tar out of poor hawks.

You walk over to Fumikage quickly, “hey, hey! He’s just a guest!”

Fumikage retreats towards you, getting a good look at hawks.

He’s quiet, “you…”

Hawks starches the back of his head, “yea it’s me, the number three-“

“You’re the crazy stalker who was on my mother’s balcony!”

Hawks face twists into confusion, “wait what-“

Fumikage whips his head towards you, “Mother you need to call the police immediately!”

You sigh, “Fumi…”

This was the second time hawks had been called a stalker today….

Suddenly a devious plan spawns into your head.

“Fumi, there’s no one there.”

“What?”

You suddenly wave a hand towards hawks in a ‘get out of here’ motion.

“Fumi, look at me.” You grab his face, forcing him to look at you instead of hawks.

“Mama, are you okay…? Clearly there’s a man in our kitchen-“

Hawks suddenly jumps through the window in your kitchen, you didn’t really expect him to do that but okay…

“See Fumi, no one’s there!” You point into the kitchen as Fumikage whips his head to face the kitchen.

“W-what, he- he was just there!” Fumikage whips his head around wildly.

“How about you go cool off in the shower?” You suggest softly.

Fumikage looks down at his hands baffled, “I-i…okay.”

He walks towards the bathroom, closing the door.

You’re surprised that actually worked…

You walk into the kitchen, taking out the cookies that were just saved from being burnt.

Until a small little paper caught your eye, you pick it up and read it, it says a series of numbers.

“text me?” With a cute smiley face next to it.

now you have obtained hawks personal number.

What an eventful day?

Soon Fumikage returns from the bathroom, dressed in one of your old metal shirts from your high school days.

“Cute shirt.” You say sarcastically.

“Looks better on me.” He says sassily.

You wrap your arm around his neck and frazzle all of his feathers.

Fumikage claims that he hates it when you do that but he never resists it.

Fumikage tossed himself down onto the couch with a loud sigh, “y’know I didn’t fall for your whole kitchen trick.”

“Yea I know, smartie pants.” You toss one of the cookies you made towards Fumikage.

He catches it, “why’re you being so friendly with a pro hero..?”

“We keep meeting, next time you see him apologize for that stalker comment also.”

Fumikage takes a bite from the cookie, “can’t take it back if it’s true.”

“Fumikage.”

He sighs, “alright, I will.”

You pick up Fumikages feet and place them into your lap, Turing on one of those cult classic movies that he loves so much.

“Noticed you got Groceries.” Fumikage says Groggily, tired from training most likely.

“Yea, y’know who I saw there?”

Fumikage perks up, “that crazy old lady?”

“Nope, Ryuji.”

Fumikage stiffens slightly, “did he talk to you?”

“Small bit, no harm done.”

Fumikage relaxes slightly, “I should’ve gone with you.”

“It’s no sweat Fumi, your mama can protect herself you know?”

Fumikage sighs and nods, you notice his eyes flutter softly trying his best not to fall asleep.

He does anyway, you’re glad that Fumikage is getting the rest he needs because you want him to always be his best self.

And if Fumikage can never become his best self then you wouldn’t mind, you’d still love him anyways.

You stand and carry Fumikage to his room, placing him into the bed and tucking him in like he was 6 again.

You kiss him temple, and hope he dreams the best of dreams.

Someone who wasn’t doing that at the moment was Hawks.

He barely dreamed so when he went off to slumber land he didn’t expect something so terrifying to meet him there.

Blood and grim, screams of the people he never saved, it always haunted him in some way but never to this extent.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, your weighted blanket only giving him some comfort.

He was never like this before, they were never this intense.

He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

What horrified him most is that you were in it, you were scared.

Why is he dreaming like this..?

PART FIVE: MOTHER HEN: PART FIVE

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#anime #fanfics #hawks x reader #takami keigo #bnha hawks #keigo x you #mha takami keigo #mha #spotify #hawks x y/n #fumikage tokoyami #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #mha hawks #keigo takami #bnha keigo

182 notes · View notes

skipper1331 · 9 months

Text

First // Lotte Wubben-Moy

Meeting each other

Lotte was walking down the streets of London when someone, you, approached her. "Um hi? Could you help me please?" you asked politely, your accent thick. To be honest, you stood there already for 8 minutes and thought about who to talk to, but everyone looked kinda scary or like they were in a hurry so you didn‘t. Until now.

"Yeah sure!" the brunette answered, smiling bright. "I‘m looking for the book store? My phone‘s telling me it‘s here but um, well?" you fidgeted with your phone, showing her the screen. The stranger chuckled, knowing which store you meant "It used to be here" she pointed at a shop, the same spot where your phone told you it would be "but they moved in to a bigger building. Actually, I was on my way there. You can join me if you want?" you looked at her skeptically, not to be rude, it was just your general look when talking to strangers. "Oh gosh! You‘re probably thinking i‘m some murderer" her eyes went big, "you have to walk down the street, then turn left, walk down to the café where you turn right and then again left-" she rambled, explaining the way to the store. "I‘d really appreciate it" you cut her off, outstretching your hand, "I‘m Y/n"

She smiled, "I‘m Lotte"

First date, first kiss

"Wow, you look beautiful" the defender told you as you were close enough, herself standing at her car. "Thank you" you blushed, cheeks turning red. She opened the door for you before she ran around the car, taking a seat behind the steering wheel. "Where are you gonna take me?"

"Wouldn‘t be a suprise If I told you, would it?" she grinned, driving away from your home.

Arriving at your destination, "could you close your eyes for me?" she asked. "Should I be afraid?" you chuckled, nonetheless closing your eyes. "With me? Never" she pecked your cheek as she slung her arm around your waist, guiding you along the street. "Take a big step" you did as she told. The feeling that you entered a building was confirmed when you heard the elevator 'ding'. Lotte had her arm secured around your body while you went to the top floor, "last few steps" she whispered, "you can open your eyes." Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking a few timest adjust, "Lotte- this is… wow" you stuttered as you stepped outside on the roof terrace. There was one table, two chairs and basket in the middle, the view was breathtaking. She walked past you, pulling the chair back, "M‘Lady"

The next hours were spent with talking and eating, everything flowed with an ease as if you knew each other for years. Every now and then the brunette would compliment you, your cheeks turning bright red as your mouth formed an upside-down smile as result.

It was already dark when you left the roof, Lotte claiming she would take care of the cleaning.

She drove you back home, escorting you to your front door. Just, you know, to be sure you‘re safe. "Thank you for tonight. Nobody has ever done something this special for me" you admitted, taking a step closer. Gently, you pressed your lips to her cheek. As you pulled away, she tilted her head down, her hands placing themselves on your waist "I‘ll make every date special for you if you let me" she whispered, resting her forehead against yours.

"Are you asking me on a second date?"

Grinning, she replied, "And a third"

"Let’s say; second date and ice cream, for the third you have to ask again"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

"Second date and ice cream it is then" with each spoken word you inched closer to one another, not much air to breath left in-between. Meeting in the middle, you closed the gap, Lotte sighed against your lips, her warm breath fanning against them as you melted in the embrace of each other, lips moving in sync.

Girlfriend question

Lotte had always been a sweetheart, she remembered all the things you told her, complimented you all the time and appreciated everything you‘ve done and said.

One afternoon, the two of you went for a walk in the park, you were holdings hands, talking about books. Both of you loved a good book, a book you can‘t put down because it‘s so good. You didn‘t know why or how the conversation took a turn but one moment you were talking about books and then you were talking about letters. They‘re similiar yet so different. "As a kid I always wanted to be asked with a note, you know? The 'will you be my girlfriend note, yes-no'. It‘s just so romantic" you admitted, giggling. You didn't even think about what you had said, you weren't a couple yet, but somehow you were still together. You just told her out of the conversation about your dream/wish as a child. You had no idea that her whole body would tense; since weeks she was trying to figure out who to ask you that question.

She had her answer.

Will you be my girlfriend?

□ yes

□ no

Doodles were across the note, making it more personal. Her own style added to the so important question.

She waited a few days, the note hiding in her pocket.

She was at your apartment, sitting on the couch as you made tea, your book resting on the coffee table. She took the opportunity, swapping the bookmark with her note. Now, the only thing she had to do was to wait.

And hope you would tick the right box.

"Ready for pitch perfect?" you asked as you entered the living room with to cups in your hand. Lotte laughed at your excitement, opening her arms so you could make yourself comfortable in her embrace.

When you found the letter your heart swelled with love, a wide smile growing on your face.

Taking a walk with Lotte was your favorite thing to do, there was something so peacefully about it. After walking for about an hour, you took a seat on a bench near a small lake, thighs touching. Lottes arm was around your shoulders as your body leaned against hers. Silently, you slipped your hand in the pocket of your (Lottes) hoodie taking out the answered note. The defender looked down at you - your hand - the note.

You opened the letter, herself smiling as she saw the answer.

yes

Pressing her lips to your forehead, she pulled you closer, "Glad you‘re officially my girl now" she mumbled, peppering happily more kisses across your face.

First time she realizes she loves you

Arsenal vs Chelsea

Red vs Blue

The match was intense, Chelsea had their chances as did Arsenal but in the end Lessi shot the game winning goal for the gunners. Lotte was exhausted though, she had to do tackle after tackle, defending Sam Kerr, Guro Reiten, anyone from the Blues was hard, they were amazing players. Yet knowing that you were in the stands gave her the motivation to play better than her best, show off her skills, impress you. You didn't need to be impressed, you knew the defender's talent and skill, you had seen her train and play often. The brunette was a great defender, every time you saw her in her club or national jersey she took your breath away. When the final whistle blew the girls shook their opponents hand and took a few minutes to talk to their friends. Meanwhile in the stands you talked to Lessi‘s brother, a super nice guy.

As Alessia and Lotte chatted with Millie, Lottes gaze wandered every so often to you, heart eyes and lovestruck smile displayed on her face. She couldn’t keep her eyes of you. There you were, in her jersey, watching her doing the thing she loved. The defender didn‘t even realize that her Chelsea friend said bye, only Less left. The blonde swung her arm over your girlfriends shoulder, poking her cheek "Earth to Lotte" she waved in front of her face, "hello"

"Huh?"

"You‘re so in love" the italian laughed, pulling her towards her brother and you.

Yeah, i love her.

First time you realize you love her

She sat on the couch, yourself sitting in between her legs, back resting against her front as her arms were around you, her hands holding your favorite book.

The day you told her that it was your favorite book, she made it her mission to buy and read it as fast as possible. "Unfortunately, hardly anyone knows it." you said. She would be the first person you could talk to about the book, who appreciated your passion about it and understood why you liked the scenes you liked.

As she read the lines out loud, occasionally after finishing a page, pressing a kiss to your head, you realized how lucky you were to have her, how happy she made you and the little things she did or said to you which made your heart melt, swell and swoon.

You loved her.

First I love you

You stayed over at the brunettes apartment, the girl claiming that she didn‘t want you to go home alone in the dark. It was only half of the truth because actually she wanted to fall asleep in your hold, having a good night sleep in your arms. However, you couldn‘t sleep so after two hours of trying, you woke the brunette up, "baby?" Lotte grumbled, pushing her head further in to your chest, "Lotte? Lotte, wake up" in her mind your voice sounded desperate, scared. It did but not in the dangerous kind of way she thought.

"I‘m up! I‘m up! What‘s wrong? You alright?"

"Can we make cookies?" you whispered, puppy dog eyes looking at your lover. She rubbed her eyes, her brain still in a sleepy state, not registering what you just said. As she groggily nodded, you jumped out of bed, happily patting towards her kitchen. What did she agree to, she asked herself.

Slightly more awake, the defender helped you to bake cookies at 3am in the morning - anything to make you happy. Music was softly playing the background, the two of you swaying along as the cookies were in the oven. Your arms were around her neck as her hands rested on your waist, foreheads resting against one anothers. In a peaceful night, both of you felt at peace being in each others grasp, dancing along.

"I love you" you whispered, it was the perfect moment to confess your love. The love you held for the lioness was something you couldn‘t describe even If you wanted to, the only thing you could admit was that it was powerful and honest.

"I love you, too"

First anniversary

"Date night, my love" Lotte told you before she blindfolded you. "You look beautiful by the way" she added, her eyes roaming over your body, a big smile on her face which you couldn’t see.

"Thank you, baby" you puckered your lips, wanting to recieve a kiss - you did. "Where are you taking me?" you asked while she wrapped her arm around your midsection, "it‘s a suprise" guiding you to her car. "Carefully, sit down" she turned your body so you could take a seat without hurting yourself, herself running around the car before she started driving to the place where she had planned your date night. Something about the car journey felt familiar even though you couldn‘t see anything.

After a few minutes the car came to a stop, Lotte ran around the car to your side and opened your door. As she helped you out of the car she slung her arm back around your waist, guiding you.

When you heard the elevator 'ding' you had a feeling where you were. Nonetheless happy to be with her. "I‘m gonna take the blindfold off" she stated as she began to take it off, "happy anniversary!" the brunette squealed, hugging you from behind. The roof terrace was decorated the same way as it was for your first date, maybe even prettier "Baby, this amazing" you admired, leaning in to her touch, "happy anniversary indeed" you giggled, turning your head to face her, a love struck smile covered both of your faces. As the defender inched closer you met her halfway, lips meeting in sweet but promising kiss. Many more to come.

Throughout your date night Lotte was the sweetheart itself, like always. You had a nice meal together, joked around, the two of you acted like always: madly in love.

"I‘ve got you something" your girlfriend stated, looking shy around, "It‘s nothing big but i thought- maybe, you would like it?" A grin plastered over your features, you had a present for her as well. "Here" she handed you her gift, packed in wrapping paper. As you held it you could feel what it was, a book. As you slowly unwrapped it, you could see what it was, your favorite book. You looked at her confused, you had it at home? Why would she give it to you?

"Open it"

Then you saw it.

To Y/n

With every best wish,

their signature. In your favorite book, there was a note with the signature of your favorite author in it. What?! How? How was that possible? Your eyes grew wide, your mouth fell open, "Lotte" you wanted to say so much more but nothing came. The only thing you could do was- well nothing. Fondly, the defender smiled at you, she could tell from your body language that you‘re happy - overcome with joy yet shocked, confused.

As you came back to your senses you lunged towards her. Arms wrapping around her neck, placing yourself on her lap, hugging her like your life was at risk. You still couldn‘t say anything, you just fell more and more in love with the person you already loved most. To her, your enjoyment and happiness was everything. The way your eyes lit up, the way your mouth fell agape, the way your smile reached across your whole face - it made her more than happy.

Your happiness was her everything.

Move in

In Lottes eyes you seemed to be nervous. She had been keeping an eye on you all day, something was off. She just couldn‘t figure out what. Under her touch your stressed state would wash away - which she noticed so she tried be close to you, having an arm around you, holding your hand, pressing kisses to your skin. However, the longer the day went on, the more nervous you became. It wasn't the kind of nervousness you had when you were about to give a presentation but rather the kind that made you fear what the answer was.

"You‘re nervous what‘s wrong?" the brunette asked as she started to massage your shoulders. "Nothing, my love, i‘m fine" you replied, your body betraying your wording. Your shoulders were tense, body melting in to the taller woman, eyes closing as you leaned against her.

"Take to me, baby" she mumbled, pressing a loving kiss to your temple. You hummed, "i‘ve been thinking…" she gave you a gentle squeeze, she was listening. "About us" Other people would have gotten nervous by now but not Lotte. She had no reason to be, things were going well between you two, you were as in love as you were on the first day, if not more so. She knew that. She knew how much in love you were with her - you showed her every minute, every hour of the day. "You can talk to me, love" she reassured you, soft kisses pressed against your head. "I want to move in with you."

The defender froze, that‘s what made you nervous? You felt the change in her body language immediately, the way her touch seemed to be distant. "We don‘t have to. I just thought," you turned around in her distant grasp "we‘re always here" you looked around her apartment, "i‘m rarely at mine anymore"

A big smile broke out on her face, "Of course! You already have your own toothbrush and drawers, you can move in straight away" she chuckled, pulling you closer, her once distant touch feeling closer than ever.

First decade

Laying in your wifes arms on the patio, stargazing had always been magical - this time no difference. With every kiss pressed on your skin your heart would skip a beat, your cheeks turned red and an upside-down smile would cover your features. "Is Mrs. Wubben-Moy getting all shy?" the og-lioness laughed, loving the fact that you shared her last name. It was nothing new but made both of your hearts still burst with love and joy. "Stop laughing at me" playfully, you slapped her chest, "as if you don‘t get shy"

"What? Me? Neverrr" the defender denied, knowing well enough how shy and flustered she could get in your proximity. A comfortable silence came over as you watched the stars.

As the first shooting star passed through the night sky, you broke the silence, "It‘s hard to believe that we‘ve been together for ten years" you admitted. Loving Lotte was the best thing and the greatest honor in your live but If you had told your younger-self that you met the love of your life because google maps was wrong, younger-you would‘ve laughed at you. And who was to blame? It was the perfect plot for a romance book or a crap wattpad story. The question was: who was writting your story?

"I hope my love story doodle never ends"

————————

#lotte wubben moy #lotte wubben moy x reader #arsenal wfc #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #arsenal x reader

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j-onedrabbles · 1 year

Text

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 (𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆) 𝒑𝒕 2

✧ PAIRING: SKZ X READER ✧ CW: BSF!SKZ, GN!READER, MENTION BREAKDOWNS, CHAN CALLS READER PRETTY, FOOD/EATING, CRYING, BSF TO LOVERS, CUDDLING ✧ WC: 2.3K TOTAL ✧ NOTE: ✧ HYUNG LINE PT 1|MAKNAE LINE PY 1 ✧ HYUNG LINE| MAKNAE LINE

❥bang chan

Two thirty in the morning. It took Chan less than ten minutes to get to (Y/n)’s apartment. He knocked on their door and waited a few minutes before he heard it unlock. He first noticed the baggy sweatpants and hoodie they had on. Then he saw the red puffy eyes.

“Come here,” he said as he opened his arms to them

(Y/n) wrapped their arms around him tightly without a second thought. One in-the-morning breakdown were typically the worst ones. It was the silence that surrounded them that made you just start to overthink. Overthink everything and that turned into tears.

Chan wrapped his arms around them and rubbed their back slowly as the two stood in silence for a few more moments. “Come on, I promised you ice cream.”

(Y/n) nodded and turned back inside, and slipped their shoes on. Quickly grabbing their house keys before stepping out of the unit. (Y/n) locked their small home up before the two headed down to the street. Chan kept his arm around their shoulder and (Y/n) sniffled next to him.

The two made it down to the twenty-four-hour store near their place and headed straight for the freezers. (Y/n) opened the door and grabbed a tub of their favorite and turned to Chan to signal him to grab his own. The producer quickly grabbed one before they let the freezer door close.

“Do you want anything else while we’re here?” Chan asked as they slowly made their way up to the cashier

(Y/n) shook their head silently. The two got up to the night clerk and Chan quickly paid for the frozen dessert. He thanked the clerk and grabbed the bag. He wrapped his free arm around his friend again as they exited the store. The quick walk back to the apartment was silent as (Y/n) stared at their feet. Chan simply rubbed their shoulder as he kept them close to his side so they didn’t get hurt while not looking ahead, and to keep them warm.

Once they got back to the building and made their way to the unit. Once they got inside, Chan grabbed a couple of spoons from their kitchen while (Y/n) sat on the couch. Chan sat with them as the two ate in small silence. Chan had turned on their tv and turned on their favorite movie, keeping it at a low volume.

“Thank you,” (Y/n) spoke

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” (Y/n) blurted out and took a bit of ice cream

“Not at all (Y/n). I think people just don’t see how great you are.”

“I’m not really that great, let’s be honest here Chan.”

“Okay,” Chan set his ice cream down on their coffee table and then grabbed theirs and set it next to his.

“Hey!” (Y/n) complained

“You are one of the best people I have ever met,” Chan started as he turned his body toward them. “You deserve every happy thing that has and will happen to you. I want to see you be happy and I will do everything I can to see you smile. Even just a little. I’m here for you, always.”

“I feel like you’re about to confess you’re love to me.”

“No, not after you’ve had a half-hour breakdown,” Chan stated

“That means you’re in love with me” (Y/n) joked

They had missed the tips of his ears turning red. “It’s late. I’ll clean up, you go to bed.” “Can you spend the night?” (Y/n) asked, a little scared they’d have another breakdown as soon as the silence hit them again

“You need cuddles now?” Chan smirked as he got up to clean up the ice cream and put the leftover in the freezer

“I would never reject your cuddling.”

“And I would never reject giving them to you. Come on.”

The two headed to bed wrapped in each other’s arms. Even when the morning hit, they stayed wrapped up. Right under the warm covers of the bed. Chan woke up a few minutes before (Y/n) and just laid there, smiling at how cute they looked sound asleep; practically curled up on his chest like a baby kitten.

(Y/n) finally woke up after a few minutes and unwillingly glared at him, “Why are you staring?” they asked as they rubbed the sleepiness from their eyes.

“You're pretty,” he smiled down at them

“Shut up,” (Y/n) slapped his chest as they sat up in bed

Chan followed and wrapped his arms around their waist and rested his head in the crook of their neck. “I like you, a lot.” he finally said

“No shit, we’re best friends.”

“I meant romantically.”

(Y/n) froze up a bit before turning to him slightly, “You mean it?”

“With my whole heart,” Chan looked up at them. “I’d like to take you out on a real date that doesn’t include me coming over when you’re crying and getting you ice cream”

“You’re not joking?”

“Not one bit. What do you say?”

“I say yes.”

Both of them smiled like idiots at each other as Chan kissed their shoulder and cheek. Maybe it was finally (Y/n)’s turn to get that happiness everyone around her seemed to have at the moment.

❥lee know

Minho showed up a lot sooner than (Y/n) thought. And he was gonna knock up until (Y/n) answered the door. He smiled at his friend as the door opened.

“You look worse than I thought,” Minho stated as he held up a plastic bag of food containers, “But I brought comfort food.”

“That’s you’re only saving grace right now Lee Minho.” (Y/n) stepped aside and let their friend in

Minho gave them some time to enjoy the food he had brought them before he interrogated them.

“So?” he finally questioned as they sat cuddled up on the couch with a movie playing on the screen.

“So what?” (Y/n) replied

“Why were you crying over your friend going out on a date?”

“Because I'm exhausted of everyone finding love except me.”

“Well, you tend to have terrible taste in partners.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“It just… It makes me feel like I'm unlovable. Like, why can every single one of my friends get happy relationships while I can't? I'm just here. Like, I'm happy for them but at the same time, I want that happiness too.” (Y/n) rambled on

Minho quietly listened whilst they messed with his hoodie strings. “I don't think you're unlovable.”

“Then why haven't I had a good relationship in years while all my other friends are talking about marriage and kids?”

“Because you don't need someone to make you feel complete. You know you can take care of yourself. But yeah, sometimes we all want someone to cuddle and kiss at the end of the day.”

“Well, you got the cuddle part. Just need someone for the kiss.”

“I can do both if you want.”

“What?” (Y/n)’s head shot up from his shoulder. They stared at him, trying to find a hint of joking in his face. But he seemed pretty serious.

“What?” he asked

“Did you just indirectly admit you wanna kiss me?”

“Maybe.” Minho smirked, “Only if you want to.”

“You're joking.”

“Not this time.”

“Minho…”

“Test run. See how we like it.”

(Y/n) thought for a moment. Minho saw the hesitation and took one of their hands. He gently kissed their knuckles. “We don’t have to. Just know I’m always gonna be with you.”

“What if we don't work?”

“We go back to being best friends though it might take time.” Minho had all the answers tonight. He always did.

“Can we try?”

“Of course.” Minho smiled and pulled them into his chest and kissed the top of their head. (Y/n) smiled in contentment.

“We’re going on a proper date tomorrow. You can brag to your friend how great of a boyfriend I am”

(Y/n) chuckled at his comment while the movie played. The comfort of falling for your best friend was something no one thought was real, just something of fiction but (Y/n) was lucky they got it. Especially with Lee Minho.

❥changbin

Changbin sure took his time getting to (Y/n)’s apartment. They had questioned the last message he had sent until there was a knock at their door. The last text had them forgetting about their crying session.

(Y/n) trudged over to the door, exhausted from crying, and opened it. Revealing a smiling dwaekki and boxes of food. (Y/n) let him inside and closed the door behind him.

Changbin set the food down before silently opening his arms, and inviting his friend in for a hug. (Y/n) started tearing up again as they quickly moved into his arms, wrapping their arms around him.

“You're okay. I got you.” Changbin rubbed their back as they began to cry again. After a few moments of standing while comforting his friend, he maneuvered the position a bit so he could pick them up and carry them over to the couch.

He sat back with them on top of him while they cried into his chest. Changbin let them get it all out again. He didn't keep track of how long they cried but he would continue to offer his comfort for as long as they needed.

Once they had calmed down a bit, they sat up and went to thank their friend. Changbin wiped away the tears that stained their face. “Feel better?”

“Kinda,” (Y/n) shrugged, “just kinda tired.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked

“A little.”

“You put on the movie, I’ll bring the food over.”

(Y/n) nodded and got off their friend. Changbin got up and grabbed the food, bringing it over to the coffee table by the couch. (Y/n) put on their favorite movie. The two ate the takeout while they watched the film.

Once they finished their food, (Y/n) curled up in a blanket and cuddled into the rapper's side. Changbin wrapped his arm around their shoulders and kissed the top of their head. Then they remembered the last text he had sent them. (Y/n) sat up and looked at him.

“What?” he asked

“You said you'd kiss me.”

“I just kissed your head. Do you want more kisses?”

“Binnie…”

“(Y/n).”

“Do you…” they didn't know how to ask the question without sounding a bit conceited.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), and you always will be. And I don't keep secrets from my best friend. I love you more than a friend but I didn't know how exactly to tell you.” Changbin grabbed their hand and rubbed his thumb over their knuckles. “But I would love a chance to be the one you always come to, wake up to, kiss, everything.”

(Y/n) was struck. They’d been right and didn't know how to react. They started tearing up again and Bin pulled them in for another hug. Tears of joy this time.

“You definitely can Binnie,” (Y/n) said between cries

“I’ll be the best boyfriend for you,” he said and kissed their temple.

❥hyunjin

(Y/n) did as Hyunjin said and dressed cozy; just a thick hoodie and sweatpants and waited for him to show up. Mostly fiddling with the hoodie strings. Once they got the text that he was at the door. (Y/n) got up from the couch and shuffled over to the door. Quickly slipping their shoes on before opening the door.

Hyunjin smiled softly at them as they came into view. “Come here.”

(Y/n) quickly shoved their keys into their hoodie pocket. They left the comfort of their home and hugged their friend. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them and stood there for a few moments.

“Thank you,” (Y/n) mumbled

“You don't need to thank me,” Hyunjin replied

“No. But I wanted to. You didn't have to come over and take me out.”

“I wanted to though. I hate seeing you sad and this seemed like the best way to cheer you up.”

“Just hanging out with you makes me happier.”

Hyunjin was glad they were still hugging and (Y/n) couldn't see him blush a little. But soon the two locked hands and headed down to the street. They took a nice walk through the City, the sun getting lower in the sky.

The dancer brought them to a park near the Han River, the sun getting lower in the sky. It was nice out for the evening, just a bit chilly. The two sat on a bench and looked out over the river. (Y/n) stuck close to their friend and rested their head on his shoulder.

Hyunjin smiled as he fiddled with their fingers, finally interlocking their fingers together.

“This is probably the best date I've been on,” (Y/n) smiled as they stared at their hands

“I'm glad. You look better when you smile.”

“You think, we can have a second date?” (Y/n) asked

“Of course.” Hyunjin smiled and lifted their hands to kiss the top of their hand.

Once the sun set, the two headed back to (Y/n)’s apartment, hands interlocked the whole way there. Even when they got to the door, Hyunjin didn't let go. Rather he pulled them against him and beamed at them. (Y/n) smiled back as they stood in each other's arms.

“Hi,” (Y/n) said

“Hi,” Hyunjin almost giggled before he kissed the tip of their nose

“Wanna come in and cuddle?”

“I'd love to.”

Both went inside, away from the cold air outside, and cuddled up on the couch under blankets with a movie running in the background. Eventually, both fell asleep on the couch. Might regret that choice tomorrow but it was worth it right now.

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

973 notes · View notes

chahnniesroom · 6 months

Text

from this day forward

pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader

summary: hyunjin and you have a tradition of trying to surprise each other with little things. he's a bad liar, but you love him all the same.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: a reader on ao3 requested hyune fluff!

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Ever since you started dating, Hyunjin and you have had a tradition of trying to surprise each other with little things, whether it be a small gift, food or drink delivery, or even an unexpected visit.

It’s fun and planning out what you’re going to do next helps to distract you whenever Hyunjin is overseas for schedules or touring. Your favourite part is that even after a couple years, Hyunjin never seemed to be able to anticipate what you were going to do next. On the other hand, Hyunjin was bad at lying and you had gotten fairly good at reading his tells, although you didn’t have to fake your delight whenever you received something.

Sometimes, things don’t quite work out, like when you had found out that Hyunjin had an evening off and decided to drop by the dorms on your way home from work. You had knocked on the door, arms laden with takeout, just to find out from a bewildered Changbin that Hyunjin had gone over to your place and was attempting to cook you dinner.

Today, you had spotted a florist that had recently opened near your workplace and slowed your pace to admire all the flowers being displayed. You’re drawn to the carefully made arrangements and selection of potted plants, but it’s one particular bouquet that catches your eye and makes you stop in your tracks. You know instantly that you want to buy it.

It’s small and simple, but features the birth month flowers for both you and Hyunjin. The combination is unusual, but you think they complement each other perfectly.

You’ve always liked flowers, but it’s Hyunjin’s fascination with them that led you to have more of an interest in the different meanings that they could hold.

You text Chan, who confirms that he’s available to let you into the dorms and that Hyunjin is in his room.

When you make it to the door and Chan greets you, his eyebrows lift at the flowers you’re holding.

“Are these for me? Aw, Y/n, you didn’t have to,” he teases, reaching out to grab them before redirecting to pull the door closed. He laughs when you pretend to ignore him and remove your shoes. “Hyunjinnie is still in his room, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

You knock on Hyunjin’s door, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason.

“Just a minute, hyung,” he calls out, sounding distracted.

You frown, but he clearly doesn’t know that it’s you, so you knock again.

“Hyunjin?”

“Y/n!?” he says, sounding panicked. “UH DON’T COME IN! I’M BUSY”

“Jinnie, what’s going on?” you ask, starting to get concerned.

“Nothing is happening!! I just- I don’t want to see you right now!” he says frantically.

You step away from the door, feeling a bit hurt. Although he usually likes it, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to surprise him today. Right when you’re about to walk away, you hear a slap, as if Hyunjin is face palming, and then a loud clatter.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/n! I want to see you, of course I do! But not right now! Please go away for a little while!!” There’s rustling in the background and the sound of the balcony door, sliding open and closed a couple times.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Just- give me another minute please!”

“Hey,” Hyunjin says. He’s leaning against the wall and his voice is deceptively calm, at odds with his dishevelled appearance.

You can’t help but giggle at the splotches of paint that are all over his skin although it’s obvious that he just changed into clean clothes. You had suspected that he might be painting when you heard the balcony door open, Hyunjin only uses that area to store his paintings, but this confirms it.

“What? Why are you laughing?” he asks petulantly, dropping the cool act.

“I’m not!” you deny, even as you continue to laugh.

“You are! Tell me what’s so funny,” he insists.

“It’s nothing,” you say. “You’re just so cute.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says. He looks away, but is clearly pleased based on the way that he presses his lips together to prevent himself from smiling.

“Come here.” You beckon him closer and he gladly steps into your space. “You’re very cute and did you know that you have something here-”

You reach out and use your thumb to touch a dot of purple that sits high on his cheekbone.

“-and here-”

You poke a smear of green that runs across his nose.

“-and here.”

You run your hand through his hair, fingers catching slightly on a few of the strands that have dried together in a blue streak.

“You know, you don’t need an excuse to touch me,” Hyunjin says, eyes crinkling into a smile as he pulls you even closer and wraps his arms around your body.

“Hyunjin…”

“What?”

“You know you actually do have paint everywhere, right? It wasn’t an excuse.”

Hyunjin’s smile dissolves and is replaced with a look of horror when he looks down and sees evidence of his earlier activities.

“It’s not paint!”

“It’s not? Then what is it?” you tease.

“It’s- it’s- I got tattoos!”

“You, a professional idol, got tattoos on your face,” you say, amused.

“Yes,” he nods his head vigorously.

“Of… paint smudges?”

“Uh yeahhh,” he says slowly.

“Why?” You can see that Hyunjin’s brain is working at maximum capacity, trying to think of a way to explain. It’s funny, but you don’t want him to suffer for too long. “It’s okay, you can tell me that you’re painting. I won’t ask you what it is or who it’s for,” you say and you watch as Hyunjin slumps in relief.

“So what brings you here?” he asks.

“Hmm, do I need a reason? Is it not enough that I want to see you?” you respond playfully.

“Well when you put it that way…"

“But I do have a reason, I got you something!" You pull out the bouquet from where you’ve placed it behind the couch.

“Oh,” he says in wonder, voice soft. He reaches out to brush the petals of the flowers. “It’s us.”

“There’s a new florist close to work,” you explain, passing over the bouquet. “I couldn’t not buy it.”

“Thank you, Y/n. I love it!” He links your fingers together so that he can tug you in the direction of the kitchen. “We need to put it in some water, I think that I have a vase somewhere.”

“They’re pretty, right?” you ask as Hyunjin opens and closes various cupboards.

“They are, but not as pretty as you!”

“Hyunjin!” you gasp. “That was so cheesy!”

“What?” Hyunjin plucks one of the loose petals from the bouquet’s wrapping and drops it on top of your head. “These are beautiful, but you’ll always be my favourite flower.”

—

Almost a week later, you wake up to a text from Hyunjin.

[3:20 am - received]

hiii

my petal~

can you come over later?

i want to see youuuuu

[7:03 am - sent]

why were you awake so late if you didn’t have a schedule ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

but yes i’m free this evening!

i want to see you toooo

[9:22 am - received]

i couldn’t sleep

was thinking of you

[9:23 am - sent]

stoppp

you’re going to make me cry at work ㅠㅠㅠ

[9:23 am - received]

sorry, but it’s true~~

anyway, i won’t bother you while you work

can’t wait to see you <3

Work seems to drag along and you’re relieved when you’re finally allowed to leave the office. When you get to the dorms, Hyunjin is already waiting for you, leaning with the top of his head peeking out of the doorway.

“You’re here!” he says, pulling you out of the hallway. Once inside, he helps strip you of your coat and shoes, handing you the pair of slippers that you usually use.

“What’s the rush?”

“I want to show you something.”

“Oh?” You glance over Hyunjin’s shoulder but can’t see anything out of the ordinary in the living room. “Where is it?”

“It’s in my room, but it’s a surprise. You have to close your eyes.” You follow his instructions, jumping slightly when Hyunjin’s hands come over your face. When he speaks again, he’s close enough that his lips brush your ear. “Just in case, I don’t want you to look.”

As the two of you are shuffling towards his room, you hear the shutter sound of someone taking a picture.

“Hannie,” Hyunjin complains. “Why are you taking pictures of us?”

“You guys are so cute together! Don’t worry, I’ll send it to you later,” Jisung says.

Hyunjin groans and continues leading you into his room, but you’re sure that if you had been able to see him, he’d be fighting back a smile.

When you reach his room, he leaves you standing for a second, before coming back to hold your hand.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he says, sounding nervous.

You look up and gasp.

He’s painted a scene that’s from one of your favourite dramas where the characters are embracing in the snow. Although the facial features of the individuals are in Hyunjin’s distinctly abstract art style, with some modifications to their heights and hair styles.

Instead of snowflakes, flower petals swirl around the couple, ones that match the bouquet you had gifted him a few days ago. In addition, peonies border the painting. They’re one of your favourite flowers, both for their beauty and the way that they represent hope and a future of happiness and good fortune.

Speechless, you reach out and touch the painting, almost startled when your fingers brush against the rough canvas instead of silky smooth petals.

“It’s us,” you say, echoing Hyunjin’s reaction to your recent gift to him.

“You’re crying,” he says, concerned. “Is it too much?”

“Hyunjin-” you say, barely able to see him through the tears that blur your vision. You reach out and he meets you halfway. “Baby, it’s perfect. I love it and I love you.”

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, my petal.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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mixsethaddams · 10 months

Text

@steddiemicrofic prompt ‘Cake’, 311 words

Rated G, pre-relationship fluff, no warnings.

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

“You need to tell me your favourite flavour,”

Eddie’s head whipped around.

“Wha-?” he asked. “Mine?”

“Yeah,” said Steve, his hands in a sink of soapy water. “Your birthdays up next, right? I need to know what you like,”

Eddie stared at the side of Steve’s head, clutching the dishtowel he was using to dry the clean plates.

They were clearing up after a Party-only (and corroded coffin) get together for Dustin’s birthday.

Steve baked the most amazing strawberry cheesecake, and even made a special dairy-free cupcake for Gareth.

“Gonna bake a cake for me, Harrington?” snorted Eddie.

“Yes,” replied Steve easily. “I do it for everyone’s birthday,”

Eddie focused on the mug in his hands. No one ever baked him a cake before.

When Eddie was a kid, birthday cakes were store bought. They were perfect, don’t get Eddie wrong, but he was always curious about the homemade kind. If Wayne could have, he would have, but Eddie also knew his uncle was working every hour god sent to keep them fed and warm, so he never asked.

Steve was watching him closely, leaning sideways against the sink with a bubble-covered hand on his hip.

“You don’t need to do that,” mumbled Eddie, willing the blush he felt across his ears to go down. “Why would you even want to?”

“Because I care about you,” said Steve quickly, before a flush of red lit up his own ears. He cleared his throat and started washing dishes again. “So just tell me what flavour you like,”

Eddie bit his lip. They were both staring straight down at their own hands, the air thick with a tension matched only by middle school dances.

“I like…” Eddie said meekly. “Lemon. I like lemon, please,”

In his peripheral vision, Eddie saw Steve smile.

“That’s my favourite too,” whispered Steve, nudging Eddie with his elbow.

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficaugust #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lemon drizzle cake supremacy #seth writes

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lialacleaf · 10 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 4

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

You were beginning to feel like Simon was hiding something. When he went out on missions he was insistent that you didn’t contact him. At all.

You never once wondered if there was another woman involved, Simon was too good to you for it to be that.

He was just so closed off when it came to the topic of work, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe he was battling PTSD, and trying not to let it color your relationship.

It had been six months since you had married Simon, two of which he’d spent deployed somewhere. Your parents had asked if you were coming home for the holidays, and you told them you would be working.

They still believed you had a job. In a way you did. When Simon wasn’t home you did light house chores, now that Dr. Radcliffe had cleared you for more movement.

Your leg was still weak, and running was out of the question. You’d begged Simon to let you get a dog but he’d bit his lip, given you a pained look, and explained that it wasn’t fair to the animal if you couldn’t care for it properly.

You’d nodded in agreement but it had hurt all the same. You were lonely when he was gone.

“So what are we doing for the holidays?” You asked as Simon washed the dinner dishes and handed them to you to be put away.

He shrugged as he scrubbed pasta sauce off one of the plates. “Haven’t celebrated in a while,” he admitted, handing you the next clean dish.

“Do you ever visit your family?” You asked.

“Have you ever been to Cambridge?” He went about scrubbing the cup your tea was in.

“I’ve never been to the UK, just the parts of Europe the 141 has taken me. Is that where you’re from?” You asked in excitement.

“No, I grew up in Manchester,” he said, passing you the cup.

“Is your family in Cambridge now?” You asked, feeling as if the conversation had gotten slightly off topic.

“No.”

You blinked in confusion. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to spend the holidays in Manchester with your family?”

“It doesn’t have to be Cambridge, London is nice too,” he added, drying his hands on the spare dish towel. “We’ve got a few weeks to decide anyhow.” He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

You gaped slightly, blinking in confusion. What just happened? Had he really just swept your questions about his family under the rug with the distraction of a holiday vacation?

Maybe it was only fair. You’d made no effort to introduce Simon to your parents, but that was different. You were a daughter, not a son. If your parents found out their little baby girl had been injured, and married off to some strange man, your father would blow a fuse.

You knew very little about Simon though. The only thing you knew about him was his strange relationship with Ghost. Why was someone as sweet as Simon even mates with someone like Ghost?

Simon had started taking you into town once a week. He didn’t like to keep you cooped up, and Dr. Radcliffe had warned him you’d end up in trauma therapy if he kept you isolated during recovery.

Simon was relieved you didn’t display much interest in going to the mall. You were perfectly happy to go to the park and pet dogs, or go to the bookstore for hours on end.

You were begging to accumulate a small library, and sooner or later he’d need to build you a bookshelf.

“Out for the weekly book haul I see,” Jesse, the store owner said as you approached her counter, most of your books in Simon’s arms. You grinned at her as she scanned your latest finds. “You’re practically keeping me in business at this point.”

You shrugged and gave Jesse a bright smile. “You had new stuff in the gardening section, thought it might be helpful for the herbs we just planted,” you said, flashing Simon a grin.

He didn’t give you much of a reaction, but that was normal when he was in public. He wasn’t exactly fond of strangers, but he tolerated Jesse for the free cups of tea she bestowed on the two of you when you sat down to read in her cafe.

She’d never asked for the details of your relationship with Simon, but she always chuckled softly when he handed over his debit card without so much as a grumble for your somewhat expensive taste in books. A man that supported his partner's love of books was a good man in her opinion.

Jesse placed your books in a bag and handed them to Simon with a smile, unbothered by his flat expression and aversion to talking more than what was necessary.

“Have you decided where you want to go for Christmas yet?” He asked as he helped you load into his truck.

“Maybe we should stay home this year. I was just thinking it’d be harder to travel with my leg, and you already don’t like crowds, I can’t imagine how busy London must be this time of year…” you trailed off as Simon buckled into the driver’s seat. “But I would like to put up a tree!” You added.

Simon raised a brow at you as if he were amused by your declaration. “A tree?”

“Yeah! A Christmas tree! And we could have some of your teammates over-“

“They’ll be with their families,” he stated quickly.

Your smile fell. Oh. Right. “Maybe just the Captain then?”

Simon bit his lip but nodded. Price was aware of the situation, and the least likely to spill the beans. He supposed inviting his Captain over for a holiday meal would be alright.

“Speaking of family,” you began carefully, “Can we stop by the post office next week? I’d like to ship my parents' Christmas presents,” you requested softly.

Simon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Would you like to see your family?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No, I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“You haven’t told them.” It wasn’t a question. He’d heard your phone calls with them. They still thought you were working for Price.

“It’s…it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. It’s just that I don’t want them to worry, and I know that they will.” Simon nodded, grasping your hand gently in his. “I’ll figure something out…eventually.”

“I have to go for a mission next week, but I’ll be back before Thanksgiving. We can put up the tree when I get back. I’ll…leave the truck with you, you can make it to town on your own?” He asked.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to even offer, but now that you thought about it, it was a little ridiculous to expect you to stay put while he was gone. It was your left leg that was injured after all, you could still drive.

“Yeah, I know the way. Thanks, Simon,” you said, offering him a brilliant smile.

“Just be careful,” he reminded you. He’d leave a pistol with you just in case. The holidays were always more dangerous. He was starting to regret not getting you that dog. He would have to look into putting up a fence, but that was a long term project that he’d need a longer break from work to accomplish. Like hell he was gonna pay some stranger to come out to his home where his wife was to do the job.

Once the truck was parked and your books were unloaded, Simon went about doing his chores while you made lunch. At some point you heard the buzz of his saw outside. He seemed to always have some sort of project going.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the other night as you went about piling chicken salad on two croissants. Why was he so closed off concerning his family?

You eyed you bedroom door, wondering if you should just leave it alone, or put your detective skills to work.

You left your plates on the counter as you slipped into your bedroom. Simon didn’t keep many personal items, therefore your nightstand was always a little more cluttered than his between your laptop, medications, and other odds and ends.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. All you really knew about Simon was his name and that he’d grown up in Manchester. Your search would likely yield little result.

At least that was what you thought until you were starting at a death record. A death record for Simon Riley, bearing the same date of birth and identification information that was on your marriage certificate.

“Y/n?” You jumped, your head shooting up to see Simon in his sweaty work clothes standing in the doorway. “Gonna hop through the shower before lunch…everything alright?” He asked, noticing how pale you’d gone.

“I…um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You sputtered, closing your laptop screen. “I’ll go finish lunch,” you said, limping back into the kitchen.

Simon watched you, his head cocked to the side, before he shrugged, and stripped down to get a shower.

You tried to ignore the knots forming in your gut. Simon Riley was dead, and you had no unearthly clue who this man was. Did Ghost know? Had he unwittingly sent you right into the arms of someone dangerous, or was Ghost well aware of who Simon really was?

Your hands shook as you went about finishing the lunch preparations, and you quietly set the table, hyper aware of the other person in the house.

Simon was still in the shower, you had time to go back for your laptop. You quickly made your way into the bedroom, lifting the screen as you sat on the bed.

Your eyes scanned over the obituary with concern. Simon Riley…served in the royal army…died in a fire…no body…wait…no body?

You scrolled down a bit until you got to the photo at the bottom of the page. It was your Simon. You felt your throat tighten.

Why was your Simon supposedly dead? It made no sense. The man in the picture, albeit a little older, was currently showering in the bathroom.

You scanned through the rest of the obituary, noticing the mention of his family. Each name was highlighted, and you risked clicking on the name of the previous Mrs. Riley.

You felt like you were going to hurl when you were greeted with an even more morbid obituary. His entire family was gone. Murdered. Stolen right out from under him. It suddenly made sense. His overprotective nature was simply a trauma response. It still didn’t explain the falsified death certificate, but it was a start.

It wasn’t until you were staring into the photographed eyes of Tommy Riley that it clicked.

Tommy had brown eyes, practically identical to Simon’s. There was one other person you knew of with those eyes. One other person who’s voice sounded so similar to Simon’s, even if it was a little rougher.

Was Tommy…Ghost?

AN: OOOOOH Ya'll excited? We get spicy next chapter...

Tag List:

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#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2

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