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whorediaries-09 · 18 days

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Hi babes💓

May I ask for a French!Slytherin!fem X Sirius???

Could be angsty and slowburnish or whatever you'd like really [I'm a sucker for your smut]

I love you xxx

thank you for sending in the request, luv!!

i'm gonna make you my wife;

pairing- sirius black x frenchslytherin!reader warning(s)- banter, fluff, silly teenagers in love, kinda shy reader, alcohol, 18+ content. a/n- also sorry for poorly translated french, i used whatever google gave me hehe.

ps- i didn't write the day old cliche about slytherin reader and sirius in this one because i think i have read it so much, it doesn't inspire me anymore.

little train.

it was the most annoying noise. the way sirius black was sucking on the lollipop vibrated in your eardrums. in the quiet silence of the library, the constant swishing, flicking and sucking was deafeningly annoying.

more over, you didn't understand why he was here, of all places. and why he couldn't understand the meaning of personal boundaries. so you decided to voice your thought.

'black, move your ass away, will you?' sirius looked at you as if he'd noticed you were standing near him, struggling to get the book out which was kept on one of the higher shelves. while he could've easily gotten it out, it was fun to see you struggle, as the shirt that you had carefully tucked into your skirt loosened with every movement. it didn't really help with the fact that your skirt also rid up slightly as you stood on your tiptoes, exposing the skin of your thighs.

'why good morning, love, i see you're thinking about my ass today.'

'trust me, i've got better things to do, black. and don't call me love.' you warned. sirius seemed greatly amused. he moved closer to you, his breathe falling upon your hair. he could easily tower over you.

'then what would you like me to call you? sweetheart? honey? or maybe you'd prefer princess?' he didn't miss the way your lips quirked but you preferred to stay silent. he smiled, apparently satisfied with your reaction. he leaned closer, his finger tucking your hair behind your back. his lips almost brushed with your ear as he whispered, handing you the book you'd been reaching for,

'ou peut-être préféreriez-vous que je vous appelle mon amour.' ('or maybe you'd prefer me to call you my love.')

he didn't miss the way your eyes flicked to his lips. or the way your cheeks reddened at his words. or the way your pupils dilated, if only slightly. grinning, he held a two finger salute, walking away,

'see you at the game tomorrow! can't wait to beat the slytherins!'

'va te faire foutre, black,' ('fuck you, black,') you whispered as he walked away.

it was cold. the air was harsh, biting your skin with every bellow. but as the enthusiastic quidditch fan you were, you had to go. well you'd be lying if you said you were the enthusiastic quidditch fan, you couldn't give more than two shits about it, you solemnly went to support your team.

at least that is what you told yourself.

it was again, a lie.

you wrapped the scarf around your neck closer, hiding yourself further into the soft and knitted wool. through the wind, you watched sirius throw a particularly nasty throw at evan. and try as hard as you might, you couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes off from his form.

it was quite the show, every time he shouted at somebody else, every time his fingers wrapped around the ball, pulling it closer to his body and throwing it about with the club. you'd be lying too much if you said you didn't find that weirdly attractive.

but what would a few lies do?

you were pulled out your thoughts as you saw sirius approach closer, closer than he was supposed to during a game. he was grinning full ear to ear. you quickly diverted your eyes to the score board.

'enjoying the view, mon amour?' he shouted. you rolled your eyes,

'you wish, black,' he chuckled,

'you know i don't,'

sirius knew what he wanted. and he knew how to get it. so, as he watched you sit down for a game of spin the bottle at the party, he sat strategically directly opposite to you. the rest of his group cheered as he was handed a shot of tequila. you rolled your eyes, as he cheered the air.

'not so cheerful today are we, mon amour?' (my love)

'it's never cheerful with you around, black,'

'you wound me, chérie,' (darling)

'i sure hope i do,' he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. he took the bottle, placing it on the carpet. with a wide grin, he said, overly cheerful,

'lets get this game going shall we?' he spun the bottle. everybody stayed silent, watching as it turned in circles, before slowing down every passing minute and halting to a stop.

it pointed at evan and barty. barty smirked, evan groaned. the rest cheered barty on. he got on all fours, reaching towards evan,

'pick your choice, rosier,' he said. the other boy grumbled something incomprehensible before pulling him close and kissing him. the way he kissed him didn't seem very rivals of them.

'oi! get a fucking room!' james shouted, throwing a chip at them. barty pulled himself off evan's lips.

'i will potter, just not within the spectrums of your knowledge,' the boy blew a raspberry before grabbing the bottle and spinning it. it spun again. you hoped it wouldn't stop at you. you didn't want to have to kiss sirius. and neither did you want to have to drink the tequila.

you didn't have a very good experience with alcohol.

it stopped at james and lily. it was no rumor lily had finally said yes to the boy after years of unnerved dedication to pester her. but james had to change into a matured and good youth of course, before he'd finally gotten lily to fall in love with him. lily leaned over, but james being the over excited fellow he was, pulled her into a frenzy, smacking a hard kiss on her lips.

'james, we don't want to become uncles at this young age, bless us!' remus said, dryly. he seemed thoroughly bored. on second thought, he always appeared bored. it was just him, you supposed, not finding the thrill into these games. he much rather preferred rotting in bed with a book.

'i agree with remus,' peter piped in, taking the bottle. sirius' eyes lingered upon you. he could see the feign worry etched on your face. he thought it was adorable how oblivious you were at hiding your feelings.

he saw the whispers in your eyes.

'spin the fucking bottle.' you said.

and so peter did. when it stopped, so did your heart. well almost. sirius looked at you with the biggest grin you'd ever seen on his face. you huffed.

'pick your poison, babe,' he said. he didn't lean over. it was all part of his strategy.

'you're poison either way.' you said, taking the shot burning down your throat. he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

je vais faire de toi ma femme. he thought. (i'm gonna make you my wife.)

je vais casser ton vélo. you thought. (i'm gonna smash up your bike.)

you were high. and god forbid you didn't care about sirius' hands around your body. you allowed yourself to relish the feeling. the warmth your heart sunk as his breath fanned over your neck. his hands felt so familiar on your skin, as you'd felt them before.

the music crawled under your skin. he swirled you around, his hand placed on your waist, pressing your chest to his.

'i'm gonna get you one day, miel,' (honey) he said. you chuckled, dancing with unrhythmic steps.

'je vais te dire une chose, miel. je pourrais retourner ce putain de scénario et prendre le dessus, et te laisser comme cette stupide fête. ou je pourrais juste t'aimer jusqu'à la fin.' (i'll tell you one thing, honey. i might flip the fucking script and take the upper hand, and leave you like this dumb party. or i might just love you till the end.)

sirius laughed. it vibrated into your ears. it was a melody, a sweet vibratos of rasps from the depth of his throat. and god forbid it got you feeling things you'd never thought you'd feel.

'et je vais te dire une chose, bébé. je vais faire de toi ma putain de femme.' (and i'll tell you one thing, babe. i'm gonna make you my fucking wife)

you chuckled.

'et je briserai ton putain de vélo.' (and i'm gonna smash your fucking bike)

he dipped you, before swirling you for the last time and leaving you.

'i'll wait, sweetheart.'

you didn't know whether you wanted to flip him off or pull him into the closet. but the whispers in his eyes were so loud, so lewd, it was as if you could hear them echo into your head. why was he sitting with the group to play truth and dare anyway?

worser still, it was a rapid fire if you chose truth.

'lace, satin or leather,' peter asked.

'that's the most most stupid question to ask the fucking sirius black leather! the guy's wearing a leather jacket in front of your eyes!'

'lace,' he said.

'we were not talking about lingerie.' lily commented, bored.

'i am,' he shrugged.

fuck. it was your turn. he grinned. without thinking, you chose truth. and god by the look on his face you knew he'd make it hard.

'tell us about any three kinks you have.' you almost choked on your pumpkin juice. your brain short circuited. kinks? you'd only had sex one time.

'fast, chérie, time is money,'

'uhm, may-maybe mirrors, oral and biting,'

he clearly saw through your lie, but made no further comment.

'i see you can't stand us having a jolly time, black,' your friend commented as sirius sat down with your group. sirius grinned at her.

'if you want to, take away your girlfriend,' she grumbled. you hit her with your book. exactly why sirius black to sit amongst your group of friends, was extremely questionable. if you knew better, sirius black would've rather died than having been spotted at the slytherin table.

'she's not my girlfriend, yet,' he replied.

'and i'm never gonna be your girlfriend!' you snapped. he grinned,

'so we're going straight for husband and wife, mon amour?' you stuttered upon your words. he enjoyed the effect he had on you. he smiled, leaning closer, resting his face on his palm. you rolled your eyes.

'marry, kiss or kill me, ladies?' he asked. your friends groaned, each on of them mumbling a quiet 'kill'. sirius seemed thoroughly amused when you didn't say anything.

'it's just a game but really,' he said, urging you to answer. you smiled, a sly curve of your lips, so unlike you,

'i'm betting on all three, for us.'

this time, sirius black was left speechless.

you were late. running towards slughorn's class wasn't the best option, considering it was down in the dungeon, where the floor tended to be slippery, but it was the second best option considering apparition was not possible within the grounds of hogwarts. not to say, you'd been used to the slippery floors after spending 6 and a half years in the castle.

but just as you were turning on your heel, a few steps away into his class, you were pulled by somebody who's touch seemed eerily familiar. their hand clasped upon your mouth, as they pressed your back towards their front, pulling you into a broom closet-which you didn't even know was there.

inky locks licked your forehead. the warmth of his body pressed upon yours and the ink of the fresh tattoos on his hand instantly gave away who it was.

'i hope you don't mind that i kidnapped you,' he rasped, letting you go once he was sure you wouldn't scream and let the whole school know where you were.

'i in fact do mind, black,' you said, reaching for the handle of the closet. he held your free hand, pulling you back,

'there's slime all over the floor. it's for snivellus. i hope you don't want to get stuck on it.' he said, warning you. you didn't answer, letting go the handle.

'it's too small in here,' you commented. he quirked an eyebrow, smiling wickedly,

'i think its cozy in here,' you rolled your eyes.

'push the reset button, babe, let's become something new,'

'no offence but god how do you talk so much. i think i die a little inside every time you open your stupid mouth. sometimes i just want to wrap my hand around your throat and choke you till you can't speak anymore,'

'that sounds kinky,' his reply took you off guard. 'are we discussing kinks in this closet? i don't think i'll be able to handle myself once i get to know about-'

his voice was muffled when you crashed your lips against his, pulling him down my his red tie. for a minute millisecond, he didn't kiss you back, and you thought you'd fucked it up. but when he smiled and pushed you back on the wall, his hands cradling your cheeks, you knew you lost it. your knees suddenly became very weak and your heart started thumping against your throat.

you could only hope you'd crawl out of this closet even alive. because the way he kissed you, so deep, so passionate, yet so rough had you losing your breathe.

'f-fuck black, i can't breathe,' you gasped, getting away from him. he smiled, slyly.

'had no idea you'd got so much in you, mon amour,' he said, his hands travelling between your thighs. he crawled his fingers upon the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way you crumbled bit by bit with every movement. his finger grazed over your underwear, feeling the little wet spot.

'may i?' he asked, his pupils dilated. you sighed, pulling him closer by the collar.

'god all you do is fucking talk, please,' he laughed, deep from the base of the throat.

'and all you do is hate me,' he slipped his fingers into your underwear, rubbing circles on your clit.

'you're so fucking wet,' you hummed, letting him scissor his fingers into your cunt. your walls pulsated at the cold contact of his rings into the warmth of your folds. you shuddered, his free hand undoing the buttons of your shirt.

'i'll mark you in places only i can see,' he whispered, his lips trailing over the expanse of your warm skin of your breasts. with a swish and click of his fingers, gone was your bra. he kissed your breasts gently, enjoying as you heaved hotly within his contact. you didn't think he had the right to be so outrageously good at this.

the last and the only time you'd had sex was not like this. it couldn't have been like this, you had not even orgasmed.

the rumors weren't wrong after all. sirius black knew shit. the way he toyed with you, leaving you shaking and desperate for him, just on his fingers drove you to fucking hell.

'god, you're so hot,' he whispered, pulling out his fingers, leaving you stranded, without the pleasure of climax. you whined. he grinnned.

'come on, tell me what you want,'

'you know what i want,'

'i happen to be a twat. i actually have no idea what you want,' he said, his wrapping his lips around the fingers that had been inside you not even a minute ago. you groaned, tugging at his collar, brushing his lips against yours,

'i need you to fuck me, black.' he grinned, crashing his lips with yours, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your fingers nimbly undid his zip, pulling out his cock. you pumped him in your hand before he lifted up your skirt, pushing himself inside of you.

he nudges his forehead with you, as you try to stifle your moans when he thrusts.

'mon Dieu, tu vas me ruiner, black,' (god, you're gonna ruin me, black,') he laughs silently, throwing his head back when your walls pulsate around him.

'je n'ai pas l'intention de le faire, chérie.' (i don't plan to, darling.')

your thighs shake around him, as you pull him closer, as if you want to crawl under his skin. his hand crawls on your torso, as he kisses, bites and licks every bit of bare skin he can find.

'attagirl, taking me so well,'

you groan.

'f-fuck, i'm gonna cum,' you say. he fastens his pace erratically, the tip of his cock hitting spots that made you see stars.

'Ouais? Dis mon nom. crie-le.' (yeah? say my name. scream it.') you groan, rolling your eyes and curling your toes as you feel yourself topple on the edge of insanity.

'f-fuck, black please,' he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him,

'Non? regarde-moi, crie mon nom.' (no? look at me, scream my name.') and so you do. you crumble completely as the words spill from his mouth, heaving and clashing when you feel your orgasm hit.

'sirius- sirius- fuck!' he grinned, thrusting into you erratically, chasing his own high. you squeezed around him, as he toppled over the edge, rushing thick white hot ropes of cum into you, before pulling out. the sticky mixture flowed down your thighs. he rubbed his fingers onto the skin of your thighs. with his thumb, he parted your lips, placing his wet fingers on your tongue.

'taste,' he demanded. you wrapped your lips around his fingers, licking tasting the both of you on his fingers. and you saw the lust fade from his eyes, as he pecked you sweetly on your lips. and god forbid it drove you crazy.

how could have just leave you shaking and treat you like fragile glass within a few seconds?

'so would you want to go on a date with me sometime?' you smiled, devilishly,

'i'd rather smash up your bike, sirius black,' he grinned back, showing his pearly white teeth.

'and i'll make you my wife.'

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

FOLKS THE LAST DIALOGUE IS SARCASTIC BETWEEN THE READER AND SIRIUS!!

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#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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wutheringmights · 2 months

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After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.

On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.

It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)

So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.

Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.

If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.

Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.

One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.

Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.

There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.

Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.

I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.

Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.

Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:

Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:

Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.

But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.

#having a not normal time on tumblr dot come right now #alanna my beloved #if you were a deity i would worship you #me rambling #me reading #bookish #books and reading #books #bookblr #Alanna: the first adventure #the song of the lioness #tortall #tamora pierce

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months

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Matching Scars, Matching Rings, and Future Tales

A/N: I forgot this was in my drafts. Wrote this a while back.

Steve and Eddie had healed together in the safety of Steve’s house. Harrington Castle, as Eddie had named it, had become Eddie's safe house until he was officially cleared of all charges. That had happened quicker than they had thought, and Eddie was about to move back in with his uncle when he nearly got jumped by some of Jason's friends. He went back to stay with Steve again until the shady government people dealt with Jason's goons.

"Hey, Stevie, since we have matching scars, you know what this means, don't you?" Eddie asked as he stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off.

"I don't know. That we're married?" Steve asked.

"Oh. I was going to say that we're connected forever and that you're stuck with me. If you really want to be married to me, then married we are, big boy," Eddie said with a wink.

"Hmm. Married, huh, and all I get is a bat bite scar, not even a ring," Steve said sarcastically. "How will this marriage work?"

"Oh, baby, if it's a ring you want, then a ring you shall get," Eddie said as he slipped off one of his rings and put it on Steve’s finger. "Better?"

"Well, I've decided to put off the divorce, so that's something," Steve said.

"You're hard work, sweetheart," Eddie said. "But worth it."

Later that night, Steve was sitting up in bed reading when Eddie appeared in the doorway, looking pale and clutching his pillow.

"Uh, I heard married people sleep in the same bed together," Eddie said.

"You have a nightmare?" Steve asked, peering at him over his glasses.

Eddie nodded. Steve moved over and pushed the covers back. Eddie crawled in and plopped on his side as he looked up at Steve.

"Whatcha reading?" Eddie asked with a dimpled grin.

"Um," Steve said, blushing. "A book."

"Gasp! A book! What's that?" Eddie exclaimed dramatically and then scowled. "Yeah. Thanks. I can see that it's a book. What book are you reading? . . . The Witch and the Pirate's Heart. . .Steve, are you reading a romance novel?"

"Um, yeah. . .I like romance, so what?" Steve said.

"Nothing wrong with that. So, what's it about?" Eddie asked.

"This pirate kidnaps a king's daughter, hoping to ransom her for gold. Turns out she has powers because her mother was a witch, a fact she never told the king about. The pirate falls for the daughter, and a war ends up breaking out when the king's rival finds out about her. So, the pirate has a choice to make: return to the sea to resume being a pirate or risk everything to save the woman he loves?" Steve told him.

"Oooh! I'm in," Eddie said. "Read to me?"

"Sure, I'll start over," Steve replied.

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said.

"Nah, it's fine," Steve said. "I just started it."

Eddie lifted up his arm and settled against Steve’s chest. Steve smiled as Eddie's hair tickled his chin.

"In the small but grand kingdom of Osprovia, there lived a king with his daughter, and they lived rather boring lives, or so the King wanted his daughter to believe. Since the death of his beloved wife, Christina, King Edmond did everything he could to make sure his daughter knew nothing of the troubles that came with being royalty. Meanwhile, Eleonora dreamed of adventure. . . "

The next morning, Steve smiled as he got ready for work. Eddie was fast asleep, with his face pressed into the mattress while drool spilled out of his open mouth. One arm and leg was hanging over the side of the bed while his hair was covering part of his face. He grinned and knelt down next to Eddie's face. Steve moved his hair out of his face and stroked it. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Eddie's hair was surprisingly soft. It took him a minute to realize that Eddie's eyes were now open and blinking sleepily at him.

"Morning," Eddie said.

"Good morning, I was just letting you know that I'm leaving for work," Steve said softly.

"Okay," Eddie said, his eyes closing. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Eddie rolled over and hugged Steve’s pillow to his chest. Steve watched him fondly for a moment as his breathing started to slow as he fell back asleep. He started walking out of the room and stopped when he heard Eddie mumble.

"Love you."

Steve went to open his mouth to say something when he heard Eddie's snores. Did he mean it? He shook his head and left to pick up Robin. He smiled as he gripped the wheel, gazing fondly at the ring on his finger. Robin didn't even notice until well into their shift.

"What the hell is that?" Robin asked.

"What is what?" Steve asked.

"That," Robin said, pointing to the ring.

"Oh, that," he replied casually.

"Yes, that. It looks like Eddie's ring," Robin said.

"Well, he is my husband," Steve replied.

"HE'S YOUR WHAT?"

"My husband."

"Your what?!"

"My. Husband."

"Your what?!"

"Robin!"

"Steven!" Robin exclaimed. "Did you get illegally married without me being there to be your best man?! We've talked about this! We both get illegally married to our partners on the same day!"

She punched him in the arm.

"Ow! No, it's just a bit we're doing. I think," Steve said.

"A bit?"

"Yeah. A bit. He's not serious. He made a joke about our matching scars, and then I made a joke that we're married. That's when he put the ring on my finger," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh my god!"

"What?"

"Oh my god!"

"Okay, you have to stop doing that," Steve said.

"You want it to be real," Robin whispered.

"What? I mean. I don't know," Steve said. "Shut up."

"Steeevvvvve. You would tell me if you were gay for this man, wouldn't you?" Robin said, pausing. "I'm sorry, bi for this man."

"You'd be the first to know," Steve said.

"I better be."

Steve walked through the front door of his house. The first thing he smelled was burning toast. Oh God, was he having a stroke? That's a sign that you're having a stroke, right? He walked into the kitchen and found Eddie freaking out over a smoking toaster.

"Eddie?" Steve asked, placing the box of food on the counter.

"I swear I'm not trying to burn your house down!" Eddie exclaimed and shrieked when flames burst from the toaster. "That's really unfortunate timing!"

Steve laughed and took the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Eddie quickly hid behind him and watched as he put out the fire.

"My hero!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek.

"What were you doing?" Steve asked.

"I was trying to make dinner," Eddie pouted.

"And it was toast?" He asked.

"It's the only thing that I really know how to make," Eddie muttered. "I want to do something nice and then tell you about how I got a job at Thatcher's Tire. Also, I lied. Hopper told me Jason's friends had been dealt with a week ago, and our house had been ready for a while, but I told Wayne that I really like living with you so it's really his house. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up with you."

"Well, it's a good thing that you didn't burn our house down," Steve said. "And you're lucky that I got our favorites from Ruby's diner. Let's eat, then clean up the kitchen, and after dinner, we can read more of the book."

"Can I read it to you this time?" Eddie asked, and Steve smiled at him.

"Yeah. Hold on. I have to go make a phone call," Steve said.

"To whom may I ask?" Eddie asked.

"Robin!"

A couple of weeks later, the 'earthquake relief fund' rolled in for everyone involved. Eddie fought with Steve on using some of his money to take him out to Enzo's.

"Come on," Eddie said. "I want to treat my husband. . . Please?"

"And you're okay with people seeing us there?" Steve asked.

"Yeeess, are you?" Eddie asked.

"Okay then, but we're going to have to wear something nice," Steve said.

"You're lucky that I went shopping today," Eddie said.

Steve came downstairs and saw that Eddie had finished getting ready first. He wore a tight red blazer, black jeans, and a black button-up that Eddie left quite a few buttons undone. His red guitar pick stood out against his pale skin. His hair was in a low bun with a few hairs framing his face.

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely putting out tonight," Steve said without thinking, but Eddie just laughed and took his hand.

"Come on, big boy."

Enzo's was crowded tonight, which was a good thing for Steve and Eddie. They sat in the back next to a window. It set off away from the other people, which is exactly what they asked for.

"So, we finally finished the book," Eddie said coyly as he sipped his wine, and they waited for their food.

"Holy shit, I was not expecting it to end that way," Steve said. "I mean the real reason that King Thomas tried to take Edmond's crown and daughter. . .God, no wonder it was at the bottom of the bin at the thrift store marked do not read."

"I guess that person was against burning books," Eddie cackled. "I just hope there's going to be a second book because holy shit, that ending. Maxwell the pirate deserves better."

"We should make Robin read it so she can share in our misery," Steve said.

"Definitely," Eddie smirked, and they clinked their glasses together.

"I'm glad Edmond worked things out for both kingdoms. He's happy, and I know that he would do anything for his daughter even if it meant helping out Maxwell," Steve said. "I definitely like Edmond."

"I don't know, I kind of like King Thomas and his fancy hair," Eddie said.

"He was an asshole," Steve said.

"Yeah, but he had good reasons," Eddie said. "I'm just glad Edmond finally decided to stop running away."

"I did like that Thomas decided to stop pretending to be someone he's not," Steve said.

Steve reached across the table and took Eddie's hand in his, rubbing his thumb across Eddie's hand.

"You know, you look good tonight too, Stevie," Eddie said.

"Well, you did say you like me in yellow," Steve said.

"Aww, you wore it just for me?" Eddie said.

"I'd wear anything for you," Steve said, and Eddie opened his mouth. "Within reason."

When their food came, they switched back to talking about the book again until they were done with their dinner.

"Do you want to order dessert?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, actually, can we have dessert at home?" Steve asked.

"Sure, whatever you want, Stevie," Eddie replied.

As soon as they walked through the door, Eddie sped off into the kitchen and started digging through the freezer.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Looking for dessert, duh. Ooh, we still have Rocky Road left!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed laughing.

"Ooh, but we have double chocolate!" Eddie said. "Which one do you want?"

Steve sighed and put the ice cream back, closing the freezer. He grabbed Eddie by the hips and lifted him onto the counter, stepping into his open legs.

"Eddie, when I said that I wanted dessert at home, I meant that I wanted you," Steve said.

"Ooh! Oh!" Eddie said, pausing and staring at Steve. "I don't know what to do next."

"Well, I think this is the part where you tell me whether you want me or not," Steve said nervously.

"Oh! Yeah, I fucking love you," Eddie said, blushing. "I actually wanted to give you something."

He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. Nestled inside were two silver rings, bats wrapped around the band.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Well, Steve, they look like rings to me," Eddie replied.

"Alright, smart-ass," Steve said. "I mean, what do they mean?"

"I want this to be real, like really real. You know, like a real marriage. I mean, as real as it can be. I still want you to keep the ring that I gave you, but I made these rings because I thought they'd be cute as wedding rings. I know it's been like six months, and we haven't dated at all. Plus, it would be illegal, so it probably wouldn't be all that real," Eddie rambled.

"I'm so tired of dating. I've dated, and I don't want to date anymore. I think that I knew that as soon as you pushed me against the wall of that boathouse. I love the rings, and I love you. This marriage might not be legal, but it doesn't mean it's not real. A real marriage means something to both of you. It's a promise that grows old with you both," Steve said. "A piece of paper, a pair of rings don't mean anything until you make it mean something."

"Have you been secretly working on wedding vows?" Eddie asked. "Because holy shit, so much better than mine. All I can think about is how much that I want to be with you forever."

"That's pretty good too," Steve said.

Steve grabbed one of the rings before slipping the ring onto Eddie's finger before letting Eddie do the same with him. Steve cupped his face and kissed him deeply. Eddie gripped his hair at the nape of his neck and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist as Steve gripped his thigh. In a flash, Steve picked him up.

"Woah!"

"It looks like I was right. I am putting out tonight," Steve smirked.

"You are not carrying me up the stairs like this," Eddie said.

"Okay."

Steve moved him over his shoulder so that way Eddie was looking directly at his ass.

"Oh, yeah, this is a great view," Eddie said.

A little while later, they were both naked and covered in sweat. . .completely exhausted from consumating their batty union. Steve was smiling at the ceiling, and Eddie watched as the smile fell from his face.

"Watchya thinking about, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Robin," Steve said.

"Oh God, is this marriage over already?" Eddie asked.

"No! She's going to kill me! We were supposed to have a double illegal wedding!" Steve exclaimed.

"Oh, that's good. I thought I was going to have to explain to you that Robin's a lesbian," Eddie said.

"I know she's a lesbian and I know that you know that I know that she's a lesbian," Steve said.

"Look, if she wants to get married one day, then we'll stand up beside her and whatever wife who's lucky enough to marry her," Eddie grinned. "If you want to have a ceremony, that is."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I always knew Robin was a package deal," Eddie said. "Besides, I would be an absolute failure of a soulmate in law."

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you, Mr. Munson."

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

Robin stormed into the Harrington-Munson Castle, Vickie following behind her. Eddie and Steve were lounging on the sofa watching TV.

"Excuse you, how do you know we weren't going to go upstairs and fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Please, it's Saturday," Robin said. "Saturday mornings are for cartoons."

"How do you know we aren't thinking about trying?" Eddie asked.

"For a baby?" Robin asked. "Is there something you want to share with the class, Eddie?"

"Yeah, if Steve is determined enough, I think he could get anyone pregnant if he wants it that badly," Eddie said.

"So, you think that if my best friend is baby crazy enough, he can just look at someone and get them pregnant with the power of his mind?" Robin asked.

"Yes!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, sounds about right," Robin said softly.

"Well, wouldn't that mean that you wouldn't even need to have sex to get pregnant?" Vickie asked.

"Shit," Eddie cursed. "You're right."

"Robin, why are you here?" Steve asked.

"Why did you make me read this book?!" Robin asked, holding up the Witch and the Pirate's Heart.

"I read it too! It was really good," Vickie asked.

"THOMAS AND EDMOND WERE GAY FOR EACH OTHER AND THEIR FUCKING BREAKUP NEARLY CAUSED A WAR! AND IT ENDS WITH MAXWELL IN A COMA!" Robin yelled as she collapsed on the floor. "Steve, why the hell did you make me read this book?"

"They're bisexual, actually," Vickie corrected, and Robin glared at her girlfriend.

"And Maxwell turned out to be a woman! Holy shit! And Eleonora realizing she still has feelings for Maxwell regardless of their gender. . . Holy shit! Maxwell needs to wake the fuck up!" Robin exclaimed. "Who the fuck is this author? Who is Christopher Quinn? Is there a book two?"

"Yeah. We tried to find anything about the other, but it didn't even say where it was published or when," Eddie said. "We looked through dozens of dozens of bookstores."

"Seriously?" Vickie asked.

"Maybe it was sent from the future because that sex scene between Veralyn the elf and her pixie girlfriend, River, was pretty detailed," Robin said. "It was a head of its time."

They all sat around the coffee table, talking about the book and debating it's origin. Meanwhile, amongst the trees behind Steve’s house, a man popped out of a portal and began searching the ground. He looked suspiciously like Eddie, but older and with shorter hair.

"Goddamnit! I know I put that book somewhere! Oh, Steve is going to kill me!"

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percervall · 11 months

Text

the gift that keeps on giving

The biggest thanks to @moneyymaseyy for showing me the ropes and being my sounding board. Inspired by this TikTok

Toto Wolff x wife!reader social media au

In which Toto (begrudgingly) indulges his wife

---

lewishamilton and others liked this persephone_london We'd like to share some incredible news! Persephone has found a new investor to continue our work in bringing you the best books! Our store remains independent, the cakes will still be here so don't worry!

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user so happy for you guys! user best news user lewis???? ⤷user 👀 what do you know lewis??? user persephone can't be a coincidence. has to be toto who bought his wife a bookstore after needing to carry her out last week ⤷user oh to be married to a rich man 🥲

mercedesamgf1, natalie_pinkham and others liked this

ynwolff dragging the husband away for a quick coffee date before the madness of media duties starts

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mercedesamgf1 enjoy! lewishamilton how did you convince him to take a break? ⤷ynwolff a woman has her ways 😏 user mother is mothering

user and others liked this

mercedesamgf1 The stage is set! Bring it on 💪

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tommyhilfiger let's go team!! user can the best admin show the paddock's power couple? 👀 liked by mercedesamgf1 user let's go lewis!!

mickschumacher, persephone_london and others liked this

mercedesamgf1 your wish is our command! Boss focussed on fp1 and @/ynwolff focussed on 'the daughter of doctor moreau'

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user omg my parents!!! lewishamilton impressive that you managed to find y/n ⤷ynwolff it's not that hard. look for the place with comfy chairs user sksks when's the mercedes book club dropping? liked by mercedesamgf1 and ynwolff user sales for that book are about to skyrocket

carmenmmundt, georgerussell63 and others liked this

ynwolff shh, nobody tell Toto 🙊 He'll never find them

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lewishamilton 🤫 mercedesamgf1 Liebling, I bought you a bookstore. Why do you keep bringing books into our home? -Toto ⤷ynwolff to read them? ⤷mercedesamgf1 ... you got me there. Please no more, we ran out of space 20 books ago -Toto ⤷ynwolff Oh babe, we can always buy a bigger house. Please return the phone to your poor social media admin user the man bought her a bookstore because they ran out of space??? Future husband, take notes user the only reason i believe in true love

mickschumacher, lilymhe and others liked this

ynwolff to the person who snitched to my husband. Also know that he is building me an extra bookcase as we speak, so joke's on you really

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georgerussell63 wouldn't dare do such a thing! ⤷ynwolff I've got my eyes on you russell george lewishamilton the thought never even crossed my mind ⤷ynwolff neither has the thought of me abducting roscoe. let's keep it that way user remind me to never cross yn/wolff 💀 liked by ynwolff user lol who would've known toto would be so whipped?

I have no idea if any of this makes sense lol. the world of social media au's is a foreign concept to me, but I had a lot of fun figuring out the plot and searching for the photos

please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me!

my full f1 masterlist

#f1 fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fluff #f1 social media au #toto wolff social media au

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alovesongshewrote · 2 years

Text

Baby Girl | The Lost Boys x Reader HCs

Plot: ya call the boys baby girl. just to see what happens. [The Lost Boys x GN!Reader]

Word count: 1420 (nice)

Warnings: implied horniness???? it's not that bad, it's just paul being a dingus

A/N: again, holy fuck i can't believe i wrote this. even more holy fuck, somehow, this isn't the stupidest thing i've ever written, and the most holy fuck, i think i might do one of these for every fandom i write for. wish me fuckin luck babes.

Marko

Marko finds it hilarious

You saunter up to him on the boardwalk

Full of confidence and mischief

You throw an arm around his shoulders

Lean your weight on him

And you say

“Ok, where are we going, baby girl?”

Yeah, you don’t end up going anywhere, because he starts wheezing

He just wasn’t expecting it, it caught him off guard

And then you have to stand there for five minutes while he laughs so hard he fails at standing

Boy is on his KNEES losing it at “baby girl”

And you’re just standing over him for a few minutes, ginning like a madman until you kneel down next to him

And holding back your own laughter

You say

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

And he just falls over

And at that point you also fall over

And both of you are just cackling at this dumb shit

It’s attracting attention, but neither of you care

Eventually the rest of the boys come back to find you and marko just

On the ground

Dying

And david straight up turns around and walks the other way

It’s great, it’s fantastic

You and marko call each other “baby girl” for at least a week

And you both die laughing every single time

Everyone else hates you but it’s so fucking worth it

Paul

He also finds it hilarious, but like

Slightly to the left

The two of you are also on the boardwalk

Vibing

Waiting for everyone else to show up

And you’re sitting on one of the rails while he stands like, kind of in front of you?

And he gets distracted by something

As he does with startling frequency

And you watch him for a few minutes

Admiring him

But eventually, you get bored with that, so you kinda

Kick him

A little bit

Not hard

It’s not enough to hurt him

(if you can even do that)

But it’s enough to get his attention

He looks at you

And his eyes get really big and sad, like he’s silently asking, “Why did you kick me?”

Or alternatively, “YOU KICK PAUL? YOU KICK HIS BODY LIKE THE FOOTBALL? JAIL FOR Y/N, JAIL FOR ONE THOUSAND YEARS”

Either way, you power through it

And you go

“Whatcha lookin at, baby girl?”

And this boy just

Lights Up

The sad puppy eyes are Dropped

And They Are Replaced With The Horny Eyes.

He just

Leans into you

As he looks at you, scanning you up and down

His gaze is piercing and uhhh

It looks like he wants to Eat You.

And goes

“baby girl, huh?”

And you’re like

“Yeah, baby girl. And you didn’t answer my question.”

Which like

You say it

And you are Aware that you are Playing With Fire

But fuck, the fire is fun to play with

And you won’t complain about getting burned

When he takes another step towards you and like

Smacks a hand down on your leg

You just lean in further and go

“Are you gonna answer me, baby girl?”

Yeah, you get bit

On the neck

You fucked around and found out

You leaned in too far and you got bit

These boys, i swear, they’re animals

Just fuckin biting

It’s a gentle bite tho

Soft

Teasing

And when he pulls back he goes

“Doesn’t matter, baby. All I can see now is you.”

And it’s so fuckin cute that you almost fall off the rail you’re sitting on

Anyway, yeah, you and paul also call each other “baby girl” for a week, but the context is Different

Dwayne

Dwayne has a relatively simple reaction

The two of you are vibin in the cave

It’s dark outside

So everyone else is out

And the two of you are alone

And he’s minding his own business

Lounging around a bit

Reading a book

And you

You are Bored

And you’re in the mood to cause problems on purpose, so

You slide in

Lean over him

And you watch him for a second

Tilting your head every now and then like a confused puppy

He ignores you

And after a few minutes of standing there, a plot comes to your wicked little mind

You lean in even closer

And you go

“Hey baby girl, whatcha reading?”

And he just

Looks at you

For a second

Maybe he blinks once or twice

And you don’t budge, you’re just sitting there grinning at him

In silence

And then suddenly

In the blink of an eye

He pulls you down onto him and into his arms

You quickly find yourself resting on top of him

Using his chest as a pillow

And this man

Does Not Wear A Shirt

So that’s fun for you

Anyway, he takes the book and just

Holds it above the two of you

So that you can both read it

And he says

“Look for yourself, baby girl”

Which if you ask me, is the fuckin Height Of Romance, but you didn’t ask me, and that’s okay

Anyway, yeah, it’s cute

Fuckin

Adorable shit

David

Anyway, time for david

David is

Confused

By his baby girlification

He’s not mad, he doesn’t expect it

(Kinda like marko, but he doesn't laugh, he just sorta sits there)

It takes him a second to process, because the second the word “baby girl” leaves your mouth and floats his way, he blue screens

David.exe is not working

The first time you do it, you’re in the cave with everyone else

And he’s sitting in his wheelchair, staring off into the distance like the brooding vampire man that he is

And you lean over him and go

“Whatcha thinkin about, baby girl?”

And he just goes

“What?”

And like

I don’t think you can actually say that he says what

It’s more like he breathes it out while his eyebrows furrow together and he shoots you the most confused look you have ever seen on his face

In part, he’s unsure that you’re talking to him

And in another part, you usually use more

Idk

Standard? Pet Names?

Darling, maybe sweetheart

And he wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to weird pet names, it’s just that one time on the boardwalk you heard him call a potential meal “kitten” and you didn’t stop meowing at him for three months

So yeah, he didn’t see that one coming

It doesn’t help that the rest of the boys are there at the time, and you, marko, and paul just start chanting the word “baby girl” over and over again

Side note, i think the boys may have a thing for chants

Anyway

The next time you call him baby girl, he you catch him off guard with your sheer boldness

It’s not the “baby girl” itself, it’s the words that accompany it

See, he’s drinking something

Water, blood, whatever

He’s drinking it

And you look over at him and you just go

“Damn, you’re pretty thirsty tonight, huh baby girl? We’ll just have to do something about that.”

And your tone is like, half joking, but that doesn’t matter, he still chokes on his drink

He coughs for like

A Good Few Minutes

And in those minutes you go from laughing at him, to panicking and patting him on the back

Congrats to you btw, you almost killed known horror icon david lost boys

Good for you

Anyway, he survives, which is good

Bc idk how forgiving the other boys would be of you committing manslaughter (vampire slaughter?) against david

(tbh, they’d probably be pretty forgiving given the sheer hilarity of the situation)

BUT HE LIVES, AND I DIGRESS

The next time you call him baby girl is in front of max

And like

This is peak 0 brain cell behaviour for you, because you straight up aren’t even thinking about it

You see david in the video store

You walk into the video store

You don’t realize he is in the Middle Of Talking To His Dad

“Dad”

And you go

“Hey baby girl”

And then you wander off to the horror section

Just

No thots given

You don’t even notice david and max staring after you

You’re too busy looking at a copy of texas chainsaw massacre 2

And when they turn back to face each other it is literally that one meme

“David, why does (Y/N) call you baby girl?”

“Maybe we should stop talking for a while”

Overall

David doesn’t mind it, it just fucking surprises him every gd time

You’d think he’d get used to it but nope

It always gets him

#x reader #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x gender neutral reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb david x reader #tlb x reader

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 3 months

Text

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

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mixelation · 24 days

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heya, so i've read your fic "it's about magic eyeball biology" right when it came out on AO3 but i just saw it's not online anymore. is there a way you'd be willing to send me the file? I REALLY like it and I was reading it basically every day for a few days because it made me laugh

i pulled it because i was getting comments about it on other fics and that was super annoying. but i guess i don't have a problem reposting it to tumblr. some notes:

this is an AU based on a bunch of jokes in this tag (chronological order)

someone asked about how weird it would be to be an SI and find out about the eyeball symbionts, so i wrote about tori finding out. this fic is a joke. it is not "canon." no one in plasticity, mutagenicity, or any other fic of mine has eyeball symbionts. i do not find it interesting, amusing, or fun to explore this concept in other fics. i do not want comments or questions about it. please respect this

the word i chose to use is "symbiont," which in my experience is the more common term used by people who study symbiosis. "symbiote" is from marvel.

Tori was successful in not vomiting the first time she watched an autopsy. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, but she ignored it, watching Keizo’s hands and pointedly not looking at the face of their latest victim. If she just focused on the steady removal of organs from the abdomen and not the face, she could pretend they weren’t from a person.

Then Keizo moved on to the head, and she had to look. He pried open the eyelids, and her stomach rolled.

“The eyes aren’t so bad,” Keizo narrated, voice gruff and bored. He held the lids open with one hand while he cut away with the other. “I like to use curved scissors to-- pay attention-- cut through the fascial sheath, and then you can cut away the orbital muscles and it’ll pop right out. Orochimaru-sama isn’t going to let you touch anyone with a doujutsu, so don’t worry about damaging the…”

Tori frowned, barely listening to Keizo, as the victim’s eye did pop right out. It was smooth, almost a perfect sphere, with the dark brown iris raised ever so slightly. Pink viscera clung to it in Keizo’s hand.

“Hold on,” Tori interrupted, twisting her neck to try and look at the back of the eyeball. “Where’s the… you know, the optic nerve?”

She was pretty sure the optic nerve was, like, huge. It was a bundle of over a million nerve fibers or something insane like that, if she remembered the human anatomy unit correctly. Her teacher had called it a “bridge cable.”

Then again, that unit was from an advanced high school class, and Keizo was looking at her like she was particularly stupid. Even if he was mean, violent, and uncooperative, he definitely knew more about cutting out eyeballs than Tori.

“Is it smaller than it looks in cartoons?” she tried.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Keizo sneered. “Here, you do the second eye.”

That was the good thing about eyes, Tori supposed. You got two for the price of one.

He passed her the curved scissors, which were slick with whatever goo lined an eye socket, and Tori hesitantly put down the notebook she’d been writing in. Feeling very light-headed, she copied Keizo’s movements, gently separating the victim’s eyelids and praying something would happen to intervene in what she was about to do. A fire alarm going off, or a earthquake, or fuck-- she’d take the hideout being actively attacked over this.

No act of god stopped her. Her hands were shaking so hard that she accidentally punctured the sclera and transparent, goopy vitreous started leaking out.

The eye did pop right out, though. There was no nerve at the back, and no evidence of one in the back of the pink socket.

Looking into the face of dead, eyeless person, she could either feel the horror at what she’d done seeping into her very bones, or she could wonder: What the fuck?

xXx

She asked for an anatomy book.

“I don’t see what the point is,” Kabuto told her. “You’re getting hands-on experience.”

“I want to know how things work when they’re still alive,” Tori replied.

“Well…” Kabuto rolled his chair back from his desk towards a narrow bookstand of books and scrolls he kept in his clinic. “I suppose Orochimaru would approve. Here, you can look through this while we wait for that drug to kick in.”

He handed her what was clearly a picture book meant for children, a deeply condescending smile on his face. Tori pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying something disrespectful, then forced her face into a polite smile.

There was a chapter on different senses, and she slowly flipped through the chapter on chakra networks in mild interest, before she found the two-page spread covering sight.

Mother of Christ, Tori thought.

She hadn’t found an optic nerve because there wasn’t one.

xXx

Part of Tori’s argument for why she shouldn’t be dissected like a frog was that there was no reason to think there was much special about her biologically, including her own anatomy. She thought it would be safer to simply not say anything.

But now she knew. She knew every person in this world was a walking sin against logic, and that knowledge, sitting in the Oto clinic with Kabuto, was a horrible, heavy burden that made it hard to breathe.

The picture book Kabuto had loaned her had explained vision to her the way Tori thought an alien who’d never even seen a human and also who didn’t have sight themselves might explain it: special cells at the back of the eye reacted to light, and then that information was transferred directly into the brain via a complex network of chakra, and this was not even the worst part.

The worst part was that eyeballs were an entirely separate organism. A mutualistic creature that colonized newborn baby eye sockets and then metamorphosed into basically a giant eyeball that fed visual information into the brain in exchange for protection and nutrients.

“During pregnancy,” the book had explained in a little Did you know? box, “a mommy’s body makes special hormones, which tell the visual symbiont to make babies too! The babies are called larvae, which have lots of little tentacles to help them move around. They like to stay with mommy, though, and so they find the baby when she holds it. Sometimes, when there’s a problem with mommy and she can’t donate larvae to her baby, a doctor can help daddy’s eyes make babies, or sometimes another mommy will donate!”

Tori was going insane. She was going to hyperventilate. What the FUCK!

“This is the worst thing I ever read,” she muttered to herself, eyes stuck on the book. Whatever drug Kabuto had given her was making her dizzy, but she felt like her vision was laser-focused and perfectly taking in the bright cartoon of two eyeball symbiont creatures. “Is this a joke? This has to be a joke.”

She was vaguely aware of Kabuto frowning at her. “A joke?”

“Visual symbionts?” Tori squeaked out, sounding and feeling hysterical.

“Yes…?” Kabuto repeated.

“No,” Tori argued. “No way.”

Bemused, Kabuto dug out more textbooks, these ones meant for actual medical professionals. He flipped through passages on syndromes related to host-symbiont genetic incompatibilities, being colonized by more than one symbiont, symbiont maldevelopment and absenteeism, chakra incompatibilities, if the symbiont spontaneously regrew its tentacles and left your head in order to start its sexual reproductive cycle.

“Is this…” Tori felt like she couldn’t breathe. She felt more apt to vomit than she did when she’d fucked up trying to cut out someone’s eye. “Is this a genjutsu…?”

“Did you really not know about them?” Kabuto asked. “I thought you had biological training.”

Tori had to work very hard not to break down into hysterics.

xXx

The good news was that “I have a special nerve that connects my eyeball to my brain and lets me see” sounded exactly as insane to both Kabuto and Orochimaru as “eyeball symbiont creature” did to Tori.

Well, no, that wasn’t really good news. But she felt vindicated at both their absolutely baffled looks.

She had to explain it three times– dropping words like “optic chiasma” and “retinal blind spot” before Kabuto believed her enough to press his fingers to her temple and send chakra into her eyes.

“There is something there,” he said, sounding deeply perplexed, and Orochimaru perked up like a child receiving a Christmas gift. “I think-- yes, it’s a nerve.”

“I think you should be able to see it,” Tori said, “if you shine a light into the pupil.”

They did. Tori did indeed have a white spot at the back of her eye, right where her optic nerve entered her eye.

“You’re like a cephalopod,” Orochimaru informed her, sounding like a dog owner telling their pet they were a very good girl. “This is how their eyes are arranged, an absolutely beautiful evolution. Oh, but the approach of the nerve is different. How fascinating.”

The examination ended with Orochimaru gleefully jabbing a needle into both Tori’s eyes. This was uncomfortable and painful, and he talked about how the presence of an optic nerve might be part of her future vision.

At least this backs up my story, Tori thought as Orochimaru’s cool hand held her face down.

xXx

Orochimaru strolled into lab the next day and pulled Tori aside to go over the results of her test with her. He took her down the hall to an office, which was surprisingly homey, all things considered. Orochimaru’s office was lined with bookshelves, and had a nice wood desk and a comfortable looking chair behind it. There was an ornamental lamp, which along with the desk chair, were the closest to “creature comforts” that Tori had seen in Oto so far.

She sat opposite to Orochimaru, in a much less comfortable chair. He spread a scroll out on the desk in front of her.

“Do you know how to read the results of a DNA test?” he asked.

“Uh,” Tori answered. “Not like whatever you’re about to show me.”

He hummed back at her, not at all bothered. “Ah, your otherworldly science. You should tell me about that later. For now…”

He explained how he’d compared the DNA extracted from her eye to DNA extracted from the hair he’d ripped off of her previously. They had matched exactly. He’d also ran her eye DNA against several visual symbionts they had on file, across many vertebrate taxa, and found no match at all.

“Your eyes are one-hundred percent Tori,” he said. “It’s amazing.”

“...thanks?” Tori tried. As a joke she added, “I grew them myself.”

“Hmm,” he answered. “I wish I had more of you, and more of other animals from your world. I’d like to study how they evolved.”

“I don’t understand how they didn’t evolve here,” Tori told him honestly. They had a special socket and everything! “I think… do other animals have eyes here? I’m pretty sure eyes evolved more than once. In my world, I mean.”

Orochimaru leaned back in his seat, eyeing her indulgently, a smile tugging at his lips. “The leading theory is that the symbiont started as a flesh-eating parasite that attacked proto-eyes in vertebrates, and then evolved with us until it simply replaced our eyes. Most babies are born with soft tissue in their sockets, to feed potential symbionts, and some think that growth is left over from millions of years ago when our ancestors had their own eyes.”

“Oh,” Tori said, unsure how to respond to that. She’d been taught parasitism and mutualism were opposite sides of the same symbiotic spectrum, so moving from one end to the other made sense. “Well, that happens sometimes.”

Orochimaru laughed.

They chatted. Orochimaru was good at answering questions thoroughly and without making Tori feel like she was stupid the way other Oto residents did, and he nodded along to her talking about whatever eyeball-related thing that came to her mind. Red-green colorblindness being a sex-linked trait, for example, was an extremely interesting topic for Orochimaru.

“So do you not have the genes for photoreceptors at all?” Tori asked curiously.

Instead of answering her immediately, Orochimaru had started writing down notes to himself. With the exception of occasionally labeling a tube or sample, Tori had never actually seen him write anything down before, and he scribbled with a sort of fervent focus.

“I’ve never looked,” he said eventually. “There’s evidence for photosensitivity in those without symbionts, but… It would be interesting to use your genome to search for any analogous loci…”

Because the conversation flowed easily, Tori eventually felt bold enough to ask:

“So is this why you can just pass sharingan around like hot potatoes?”

Orochimaru paused in the middle of writing, blinking at her.

“Hot potatoes?”

Tori blushed, and then backpedaled. “I know you… uh, Sasuke is going to get into a fight with Danzo at some point.”

She gestured at her forearm, and Orochimaru let a loud, rasping laugh.

“I don’t think Danzo can see particularly well with those,” he said, eyes mirthful. “But I suppose eye transplants would be quite difficult with a nerve to connect, wouldn’t they?”

Tori nodded. She was pretty sure they weren’t even possible. There were… a lot of problems, there. But if the eyeball was supposed to be an external creature, it had to be easier to pass them around.

“They have quite a high success rate here,” he answered, tone flippant as he played with the pen in his hand. “Unfortunately, an eye transplanted into a non-related host can rarely be coaxed into reproducing.”

“Huh,” Tori answered. “Why?”

Orochimaru’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Perhaps that can be your next project.”

xXx

It didn’t get to be Tori’s next project, because Oto ended up going up in flames.

She didn’t even have time or energy to think about how everyone in this world was running around with symbiont eyeballs instead of regular eyes until months later, sitting in Sasori’s workshop and carefully stirring some foul-smelling concoction while he excavated someone’s insides so he could hide weapons inside or something.

“You know, you guys should really invent magnetic stir-bars,” Tori said, eyeing the beaker of slowly bubbling sludge and wondering if the fumes could hurt her.

Apparently Sasori was in a bad mood today, because he put the horrifying… scooping tool… down and turned to her fully.

Like carving a pumpkin, Tori thought against her will, eyes fixated on the… organ scooper?

“What stupid thing are you rambling about now?” Sasori asked her, voice harsh. “You’re distracting me. If you make a single mistake with that poison--”

Tori was trying very hard to pay attention to Sasori’s threats and not think about all the horrible squelching noises of the organs she’d removed herself. It was better to listen to Sasori, really. Probably increased her chance of survival, even.

There was movement behind Sasori. Tori squeaked in surprise. Sasori clicked his tongue in annoyance, picked up the organ scooper, and then used it to catch something right out of the air with the ease of a professional lacrosse player.

“Oh, disgusting,” he said, staring down at it in evident annoyance.

Something else plopped to the floor with an audible, vaguely wet thud. It rolled across the concrete floor, and Sasori trapped it against the floor with a firm sandal. Tori leaned over the bench to see what was going on, and saw the transparent ooze of viscera across the cement and gray tentacles trashing against the floor and the sides of Sasori’s sandals.

“Is that an eyeball symbiont?” Tori asked, suddenly excited. She leapt to her feet and came to stand beside him, peering into the shell of the organ scooper.

Sure enough, an eyeball with a halo of tentacles was rolling back and forth, desperately trying to escape.

Holy shit, Tori thought. That was… that was amazing, actually.

“It’s sort of cute,” she said.

Sasori looked at her like she was insane. This was, apparently, such a bizarre statement that he didn’t immediately react to the eyeball finally lurching itself forward and out of the scoop. Tori caught it easily in one hand as it fell.

“Don’t touch it,” Sasori hissed, grabbing her wrist. “Are you insane? It’ll induce your eyes too.”

“...what?” Tori asked, blinking back at him. “Oh, because the tentacles mean it’s trying to have sex?”

She stared down at the thing in her hand. The tentacles wriggled between her fingers. Kinky little bastards, weren’t they?

Sasori was looking at her with… awe wasn’t really the word. More like: What the fuck, I have never seen someone this carelessly insane before, and I am horrified that humanity could reach these depth.

Which was kind of rude, actually, because they lived with Hidan.

“What do you mean by ‘induce’?” Toi asked.

“Do you not know how eyeballs work?” Sasori asked, sounding just shy of hysterical.

Apparently, handling an eyeball symbiont in its sexual reproduction mode could induce a symbiont in a host to also leave the head and revert to its sexual cycle, so they could both run off and hopefully have an eyeball orgy with as many symbionts as possible. Tori guessed that made sense. The symbiont reproduced mainly asexually, but most things did occasionally run off to have sex. That was just life.

Sasori was absolutely disgusted by the entire process. His symbionts were the only living part of him, and he was personally horrified by the idea of them crawling out of his head to make babies.

He also seemed to be viscerally repulsed by the threat of a loose symbiont in someone’s living quarters, not because it might affect his housemates, but because he didn’t like the idea of more tentacled symbionts flopping around.

“Is this like… an ongoing societal problem?” Tori wondered. Did people kill them on sight, or was this considered a beautiful miracle of life?

She didn’t get to find out, because her question triggered a rant from Sasori about how much he hated them, and that they should just stay in people’s heads and look pretty like they were meant to.

“Is it common to leave a dead host like this?” Tori asked when he calmed down. They couldn’t really move on their own unless they went into sex mode, after all…

“Why are you still holding it?” Sasori demanded. His own disgust was the only thing keeping him from prying it out of her hand himself.

“Oh, I don’t have a visual symbiont,” Tori said, blinking at Sasori. “I just grew my own eyes. Uh. Like an octopus.”

Sasori very slowly let go of her wrist. He stared at her, perplexed.

The symbiont in her hand wriggled some more. Her own eyeballs stayed firmly in place.

“...pick up the one on the floor,” Sasori said eventually.

He wanted to keep them. He liked saving his puppet’s original eyes. Usually, when they left the host, he had to kill them and then isolate them for a week to be sure the hormones that could induce his own symbionts dissipated. That meant, once he was able to safely handle them, they were not in pristine condition. This, perhaps, contributed to why he hated them so much. They were frustrating art material.

Tori thought, based on what she’d read about things doctors did, he was being a bit paranoid, the way some people didn’t like touching raw meat.

“You’ll have to kill them and preserve them for me,” Sasori said, having fully accepted that Tori was a weird freak faster than she would have anticipated.

Tori felt bad when she killed them, slipping a scalpel into their backs where Sasori indicated.

“You’ll see more live ones,” Sasori sniffed when she complained. “This happens with about a quarter of my bodies.”

Fascinating, Tori thought. She’d never had one of her failed surgery… patients… do this. Maybe what they did in Oto also killed the symbiont?

“And you don’t use all those bodies for full puppets, right?” Tori asked. “You won’t need every symbiont.”

“You can’t keep it as a pet,” Sasori sneered.

Obviously she didn’t want a pet. She wanted to run some experiments. This was really interesting, after all!

Instead of earnestly explaining this to Sasori, who seemed a bit on edge and likely to yell at her, she went for jokes at other people’s expense. He loved those.

“I want to see if Jashin protects Hidan from them,” Tori told him, and he snorted. “Or see if we can get one to colonize Deidara’s mouth-hand.”

“He will kill you,” Sasori said, not without a hint of bemusement. “You’ll cut off all their tentacles next. I like to use curved scissors…”

#it's about magic eyeball biology #my writing #toriverse

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14dayswithyou · 1 year

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Hello!! I've been reading through Leon's stuff and??? I love him??? I'm a sucker for childhood best friends turned to lovers. The slow burn, the pining, and the yandere potential! I was also wondering what would Ren/Redacted do if they found out that Angel loved or had a crush on Leon? I'm assuming that Leon beloved would end up 6 ft under :[ Mostly because it'd be hard to replace the memories Angel has with him, or to make them distrust and dislike Leon so much so that they'd pick a stranger over him.

Anyway tysm for making such great characters!! I legit cannot choose between [Redacted] and Leon rn. And Violet is so sweet, I'd love to play Final Fantasy XIV with her or smth!! Though her account might get mysteriously hacked if we have too much fun or get too close 😪

I have many, many thoughts. I hope this was understandable!

✦゜ANSWERED: I think a lot of people tend to forget that Ren was also your childhood friend as well, so he'd 100% know about Leon's small crush on you when you were all kids!! >:3c

And while technically Leon was the one who proposed first, it was only out of the desire to protect you and fulfil those childlike fantasies he read in books -- not because he had a crush on you. Ren was the one who had genuine feelings and greatly admired you, which was why he proposed (with a ring!!) as well. But obviously knowing Leon for a bit longer, you listened to him instead.

But Leon was also very stubborn and clingy when he was younger, and didn't want you befriending others or replacing him as your best friend. He only wanted you to rely on him to protect you, and always saw Ren as a threat because they were always lurking behind the swings and staying hidden inside the slide like a scary, fantasy monster.

When in reality, Leon was the one encroaching on Ren's only safe haven (the playground) and disrupting the peace.

I've mentioned this before, but Ren would always sneak out and visit the playground on the nights where his family got a little too much, and that was where he would always find you -- alone and huddled up in one of the brightly-coloured tunnels with tears in your eyes. It was then when Ren would start leaving jackets and little toys for you to find, and always got happy when you'd do the same in return. But the moment Leon turned up (most likely out of you telling him about the playground), everything started to go downhill for Ren.

I also don't think a lot of the newer people know about this, but Leon moved away when you were both around 9 years old!! So they only way he kept in touch was through hand-written letters and occasional texts/calls once you both got older and had access to phones. I like to think in an AU where he still had feelings for you, he'd write cute lil love letters and send cheesy Aussie postcards/souvenirs of things you'd enjoy.

I also can't really explain what Ren would do if Leon started getting closer because that's part of the premise of the game (and I don't wanna spoil anything), so I unfortunately can't fully answer your question, I'm sorry!! >.<

#God has her favourites and it's Leon and Moth jhjgsdhgjs /lh #Anyways!! Here is your yearly childhood Leon/Ren lore drop... see y'all next year /j #💌 — answered.#💖 — about leon.#💖 — about ren.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💜 — canon.#💜 — blog canon.#<- specifically the love letter part

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botboots · 9 months

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Hey! I'm probably SOOO late to transformers fanfics and one shots but I've come with this prompt,( I hope you like it enough to write it!) could you write Ratchet x injured reader, g/n or female. Injured shoulder, and maybe trying to hide it from him? Also in Tfp? If all this isnt too much to ask? Thank you for considering! Have a good day/ night

a/n: heehee this one was fun. the dialogue is kinda splotchy because theres a lot going on in my brain rn but!! hope you like it <3 also reader is cybertronian bc there are NOT enough cybertronian!reader fics out there and theyre very fun to write tbh. hope thats okay!!

ALSO! guidelines have been updated so before anyone submits a new req please read it! and please please request mirage/rotb fics oh my god im obsessed with it ROTB WAS SO GOOD </33

warnings: very minor injuries, pining <3 word count: 1059 (GN, cybertronian!reader) continued under the cut

-----------------

The purple and green swirl of the ground-bridge closed behind you as you followed your team back into base, the lingering energy buzzing under your plating.

Glancing at Bumblebee, a small twinge of pity struck you as he made his way over to the medical bay. The scout had taken a few nasty punches from Breakdown and clearly wasn’t feeling too hot; dents littering his armor.

“We showed ‘em, huh?” your focus was snatched when Bulkhead caught you off guard with his usual celebratory elbow-bump, sending you stumbling a little from the force. A sharp pain ran up your arm to your shoulder and you winced.

“Yea- totally.” sending the wrecker a strained smile, you gave him a half-hearted push back. He tilted his head, about to open his mouth to ask you something when Miko booked it over to the two of you, questions spilling out of her mouth at a mile a minute. All of them were something gore or violence related, asking Bulkhead if he got any pictures of some “hardcore massacre-ing”. The girl's interests were a little concerning, but endearing. Nonetheless, you took the opportunity to slink away and avoid any more attention. Angling your helm, your face scrunched up at the sight - and feeling - of the wound on your shoulder.

Too focused on the fight in front of you, a stray Vehicon had been able to sneak up behind you and catch you by surprise. Fortunately for you, Vehicons were mass trained for quantity over quality and didn’t have the best shots. The blast grazed your shoulder, tearing between some of your paneling to the barely exposed wires. It hurt like a bitch at first, but adrenaline buried it enough that it wouldn’t distract you - plus it was small enough that none of your team noticed. Now that you were back at base, though, the piercing sting prodded at your processor incessantly. You did want to go and see Ratchet about it - always finding some kind of excuse to be around the mech - but he was dealing with Bumblebee right now, and you didn’t want to add to his plate. Not like it was anything life-threatening, anyway. You could just try and patch it up yourself - you’ve spent enough time with Ratchet to pick up a few things yourself.

You stole a glance at said medic, who you only just noticed was looking right at you. Immediately you realized from the questioning look on his face, raised brow and all, he had probably caught both your reaction to Bulkhead bumping into you and the grimace you had made at your shoulder. Optimistic, you shook your head at him, giving the mech a meager thumbs-up and a “I'm-actually-totally-fine” smile. He gave you a hard stare, and your spark sank when he motioned you over with a flick of his digits. You begrudgingly made your way over to the medical bay. As you neared, Ratchet had already cleared Bumblebee and was shooing him out. The scout passed you, and your attention was focused on Ratchet waiting with a cocked helm and his ever-present RBF. Standing awkwardly under his gaze, almost scrutinizing, you huffed. Without a word, the red and white medic picked up his scanner, turning it on with a loud click and running the green laser over your frame.

“Really, doc - I’m fine. It’s nothing.” you tried, and failed, as he kept the device lingering at your shoulder. With a deadpan look covering his faceplate, he put the scanner down and placed his servos over your shoulder plating. You grit your denta to keep a pained hiss from leaving you, wincing when he felt around the frayed wiring.

“Nothing, huh?” you pouted at his scoff, his metal brows knitted together as he examined the shot that had barely missed doing any serious damage. “Sit.” he ordered, gesturing to the medical berth while he moved to grab some tools from a nearby counter. Embarrassment was settling in your chassis, but you did as you were told.

It technically didn’t take long to patch you up, but the old mech made it seem like eons to you with the way he was muttering about “some of the team having egos too big for their own good.” It only made the burn of embarrassment grow, and you ducked your head when he gave you a pointed look. Ratchet was nothing if not thorough in ensuring you knew when he disapproved of something.

Soon enough he finished up, giving the patched wound a once-over.

“Anything else you’re not telling me?” he questioned, the familiar lilt of sarcasm back in his tone. That at least steadied your nerves a little.

“No, sir.” you mocked, raising one of your servos in a half-assed salute.

He scowled, crossing his arms, “I’ll have Optimus enforce mandatory health checks every time you come back to base.”

Frantically shaking your helm, you raised both servos defensively, “Okay, okay!” you sputtered, “Won’t happen again.” His optics narrowed, giving you a hard stare, and you released a heavy sigh. “Promise.”

Ratchet debated it for a moment, still having half a mind to just assign the checks anyway, but as you kept your optics trained on his, the mech’s will buckled and he huffed a quick, “Good.”

You both were staring at each other for just a moment too long before Ratchet gave a quick cough. “Come back if the pain flares up again.” he waved you off as he made his way back to his usual spot at the terminal. You blinked, watching him walk off with a slightly heated face. Awkward. Hopping off the medical berth, you were careful not to irritate your shoulder and mess it up more than it already was. As you walked past Bumblebee he whirred to grab your attention. You paused, turning your head to him with a raised metal brow.

The scout chirped at you teasingly from where he sat, nodding his head way too obviously towards you and then Ratchet, who was already burying himself back in his work. Your optics widened, immediately narrowing into an offended glare as you jabbed a digit towards him.

“Don't. Even.” you grumbled, folding your arms and walking briskly away from Bumblebee’s poorly stifled, chittering laugh that echoed behind you. Your previous pity for the mech quickly dissipated as your faceplate burned. Primus.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #tf x reader #tfp x reader #transformers prime #transformers ratchet x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #ratcher x reader #transformers fanfic #tfp fanfic

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beybaldes · 1 year

Text

all I know of love is how to live without it

Eddie Roundtree × Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

word count: 1.9k

summary: Eddie's used to being second place, everywhere from the science projects he did in middle school to the one Camilla wouldn't choose. you show him that he's always your no.1.

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered vour fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more eddie fics xoxo

"But the dude still wouldn't leave me alone, so I called Eddie over and was like 'I told you I have a boyfriend, see?' But he still didn't believe me, said he would've seen it in the tabloids if I was taken. Eddie got right in his face about it and then he finally left me alone." Graham laughed through every word you said, the two of you huddled in a corner of the room, it pack with so many people that if you'd wanted to move it would've been hard anyway. When he'd first found you about an hour ago, you'd told him to carry on in his travels, quite content to stand alone and people watch, but Graham insisted, not wanting to leave you alone in the crowd.

"Where is Eddie?" He asked, eyes scanning around the room in search of your partner in crime. Now that you'd thought about it, you'd not seen him in a while - he'd said he was going to grab himself another drink and then seemingly disappeared. "I don't think I've seen him since we got here."

"Yeah, me either." You scanned your eyes across the room once more, not seeing his tufts of blonde hair anywhere. "I'm gonna go look for him, if that's okay."

"You know it is." Graham assured you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, leaning down so you could hear his next words better over the commotion. "I'm gonna get another drink, come find me if you can't find him."

With a nod, you left the brunettes side, beginning your search for the blonde who you were 80% was crashed on a couch somewhere.

3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and 6 laps of the main room later you still hadn't found him. You'd bumped into Graham twice who told you to give up on your search and enjoy your evening, and the rest of the members of the six at least once - spare Eddie himself.

In your attempt to scan through the room once more, you walked straight into Camilla, grabbing her by her elbow to make sure she didn't fall over at your sudden connection. "Cami, I'm so sorry I didn't see you."

"It's okay, y/n, don't worry about it."

"You okay?" You asked, noticing a slight sniffle to Camilla's words. Billy could be a dick, so you wouldn't be surprised if he'd said something to her that he really shouldn't have. The words didn't need to be said out loud, a silent conversation shared between the two of you in a matter of seconds between your eyes alone.

You pulled her in for a brief hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't let it ruin your night. You look hot as shit." Camilla broke into a smile at your words, whatever she had been worked up over melting from her features in an instant. "Go. Have fun. Get drunk. Who cares."

Camilla pulled you in for the hug this time, though only briefly, allowing you to pull away when you whispered a promise to find, and do shots with her, when you'd found what you were looking for.

As Camilla walked past you, you noticed a door behind where she'd stood that you hadn't seen before, leading out onto the balcony - promising to yourself that if Eddie wasn't here, you'd just get on with your night and question him about it the next morning.

Thankfully, the man of the hour was on the other side of the door, his forearms resting on the balcony's fence as he looked out over the city "You!" You cheered, steeping down onto the balcony and approaching Eddie where he stood at its far end, his eyes downcast and a half-assed smile on his face. "I have been looking everywhere for you! You said you were going to get a drink and you disappeared on me! What happened?"

You planted your arms firmly on the railing next to him, leaning down and forward to get a good look at his face which haven't moved since you'd come out to the balcony. Eddie's dejected expression had you freezing, realising the joyful disposition you'd entered the scene with may have not been entirely appropriate.

"Ed's." You reached out a hand for his arm, finally gaining his attention, though his eyes still head a far off look to them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He immediately deflected, though the fact that his eyes still couldn't meet yours told you otherwise. "Really."

"I don't believe you." You bent at the knee, tilting your head and trying to get a better look at his face once more. "What happened, Ed's."

It wasn't a question this time; a gentle command for him to talk about, share what was on his mind. A problem shared is a problem halved was a saying you'd been raised on, and you weren't going to falter on that sentiment now.

"I'm fine." That wasn't what you'd asked. "Just go back inside I'll be back in in a minute."

"Eddie." Turning to face him entirely, you leant your side against the railing, one arm on top of it and one reaching out for his hand. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Eddie still didn't answer you, his jaw locking and his hands gripping the railing tighter as he stared out at the city believe you.

"We don't have to talk about it." You whispered, moving closer to him as you spoke, the music from inside seeping out onto the balcony at its deafening volume. "But I'm here if you decide you want to, if you need someone to listen."

"You'll be there for me?" You couldn't tell what cogs were turning in Eddie's head, what motivated him to finally speak up and ask such a question, but you were glad he was talking. That was a step in the right direction, into finding out what upset him so much.

"Yeah." You answered honestly, no strings attached or conditions to your words. "Always, Ed's."

That seemed to be enough for Eddie for the moment, and you didn't plan on pushing him to talk about it, so you took the opportunity to slip back inside. Running from the balcony door and into the kitchen, you picked up two bottles of beer and ran straight back, not wanting to leave Eddie alone for too long now that he'd began to open up about whatever was bothering him.

"You're back?" Eddie asked when he heard the door creaking open. "What about the party?"

"Everyone else can wait." You answered, offering him one of the beers you'd grabbed cautiously, like he was a wounded animal you were afraid to startle. "You need me. That's all that matters now."

Though Eddie wasn't in the mood for smiling, he could feel one trying to curl onto his lips. He revelled in the quiet shared between the two of you, thankful that you were willing to be patient with him, let him deal in his own time.

"You remember that science fair project we did in the 8th grade?" Eddie asked out of nowhere, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between the two of you. You took another sip of your beer, turning to him with a confused look on your face. "What did you think of it?"

"Think it was stupid." You muttered, looking at the late night city lights as you thought back on something that felt like a whole other life ago. This where different then, you were different then, and you couldn't quite place when everything had changed. "It still keeps me up at night that Graham won and not us."

While it was definitely an over exaggeration, it elicited a laugh from Eddie - something you'd been hoping to achieve since the moment you'd noticed the crestfallen look on his face.

"It was only because he stole Billy's winning project from the year before too!" You whined, remembering the events more clearly now that Eddie had brought it up. "That cheeky little- I'm so gonna convince him he owe me $50 in the morning."

"What? Why?" Eddie asked, mind now focused on your confusing words more then Camilla breaking his heart.

"I don't know, reparations for the win we deserved or something. I'll split it with you, 30:20."

"Why am I getting $20? Why not $25 each?" Eddie whined, his full body now turned to face you, one arm supporting his weight against the railing while the other held his beer.

"No, no. You'd get the $30. I did jack shit in that project. You did all the hard work."

"Couldn't have done it without you though, y'know." Eddie said in complete earnest, some kind of realisation settling over him as the pair of you dwelled on the memory from a life time ago. It was weirdly poetic in a sense, how even back then, before the band and everything, you stood by his side when a Dunne was breaking his heart in some capacity, put the pieces back together even when he didn't ask you too - or tell you it's what he needed.

"Still can't do shit without out now." The words came out in a teasing way, but you could tell Eddie was trying to mask the sentimental value to them. The two of you had been two peas in a pod as long as you could remember, you could read him like a book even when he didn't want you too.

"You know you could." You teased right back, feeling comfortable enough to knock your shoulder against his now that the mood had shifted to a happier one. "You just don't want to."

"Yeah I don't think I do." Eddie let you rest your head on his shoulder, one of your arms wrapping around his bicep while the other wrapped around his forearm in a makeshift hug. "Don't think I ever do, birdie."

"There's my Eddie." You cooed, so casually that it sent Eddie brain whirring. He knew he was nowhere near ready to open up his heart again, but you'd already wriggled your way in so long ago that it felt natural. Something about being your Eddie was something he thought he could get used to, but that wasn't something he wanted to unpack today. "Come back inside."

"Since you asked so nicely." Your arms stayed wrapped around Eddie's as you re-entered the party, weaving your way through the crowd in search of Graham who you'd all but abandoned earlier. He was easy to find, towering over the crowds of people, and he kept himself in good company, introducing you to the group he'd surrounded himself with and you and Eddie finding conversation with them easy.

Though Eddie had a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eye, his entire demeanour had changed since you first found him on the balcony, and that was enough for you.

The rest of the night went quickly, people coming and going from your group, but you, Eddie and Graham sticking together for the rest of the evening. Eddie added his own opinion to the conversation every now and then, but spent most of the night taking in the feeling of your arms around his; thinking about how he must have been someone good in his last life to deserve such an angel as you in this one.

#djats imagine #djats x reader #daisy jones and the six imagine #daisy jones and the six x reader #eddie loving x reader #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree oneshot #detective abe imagine #eddie roundtree imagine #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving onehsot #eddie loving imagine #eddie loving

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gold rush | cole walter

cole walter x female mc

summary: gracie has never been in love. she thinks. though, the enigmatic cole walter seems to have invaded her thoughts and infected her in every sense. she's completely enamored. too bad every other girl is too.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: i thought we could have a little haley james tutor moment and it was so much fun to write

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

When we are little, our mothers always tell us to never stare at the sun. That the brightness is too much for our delicate irises. It's hard to imagine that something so essential to our lives can be just as harmful. We count on the sun to rise, as much as we count on it to set. It's a constant in our lives, the kind of thing that feels comforting because you know that no matter what, it will never leave.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I startle as the bell pulls me from my thoughts, the ramblings of my calculus teacher going in one ear and out the other. Truly, I try to pay attention in class. But it's hard when he's sitting right there, not knowing. Not knowing that I would do anything to have the privilege of loving him.

I've always wondered what it must be like to grow up that beautiful. With the kind of hair that falls into place like dominoes and the kind of eyes that captivate a room. I've never been anything special. Not like Cole Walter. He's enigmatic, pulling everyone in and willing us to look in his direction.

Standing from my desk, I take my books into my arms and beeline for the lockers. I've got work after school, and we just got a new shipment in, meaning I get to spend my time reading the backs of the covers and creating a mental tbr. I force myself to forget Cole, hating how much of my thoughts he seems to consume when he barely knows my name.

Sure, we've been in class together since grade-school, but he's always hung around Dylan and Erin. Never me, not that I've even tried to be his friend. I'm not good at that kind of stuff. I much prefer to keep to myself, silently admiring him, because it's comfortable. He'll never know how much he consumes me, but that's okay. He doesn't need to. My crush on Cole Walter is as steady as the sun that rises each day. The sun never thinks about me, it just simply exists, and the rest of us revolve around it.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The next week, my calculus teacher asks me to stay after class. To be completely honest, I was confused, since I was doing well in his class. I had even aced the last test.

"Gracie, I wanted to ask you a favor. I have a student who is really struggling in this class and I think that he would greatly benefit from your insights. Of course, you would get volunteer hours, but I was wondering if you could offer your time to tutor him?"

My brows furrow, Mr. Henry leaning against his desk, his arms crossed in front of him. I've tutored kids before, but it was always through the tutoring center at school. A teacher has never explicitly asked me to tutor one kid in one subject.

I don't really have the time, working at the bookstore, being on the volleyball team, and balancing my other courses. But I would hate to let Mr. Henry down, since he's one of my favorite teachers. And the people-pleaser in me can rarely find myself saying no. Which is why I nod, holding tightly onto the straps of my backpack.

"Yeah, of course. I'm free seventh period, so if you could just send him to the tutoring center then, that would be great."

Mr. Henry looks relieved, sending me a smile of approval.

"Perfect, thank you so much Gracie."

"Mhm." I nod as I begin to leave the classroom, "See ya, Mr. Henry."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I feel like a little kid again, like at any moment I'm going to be scolded for looking at the sun for too long. But it's kind of hard not to stare when none other than Cole Walter walked into the tutoring center.

He's holding a green slip of paper, his blond hair gracefully falling into place. A simple grey t-shirt clings to his torso, his tanned arms seeming to shine as if he wasn't even from this world. A smirk adorns his lips, as his eyes connect with mine. I swear I feel my heart stutter in my chest.

"Gracie?" He lifts the paper in my direction.

I don't know if I can do this. I don't want him to be real. I'm perfectly fine with him being a figment of my imagination, a projection of my personal life. He didn't know me. He didn't need to. We would graduate and my silly crush on Cole Walter would disappear as if it were a hummingbird in the spring. There one minute, gone the next. And I was okay with that. He was never supposed to be permanent. But I'm afraid that if I get to know him, one of two things will happen.

He is nothing like my brain has projected onto him, and this daydream of mine is inevitably ruined.

This crush of mine becomes something so permanent that I fear I will never be able to scrub it from my brain.

Either one sounds like hell.

I realize that I haven't responded yet, and Cole is giving me an odd look that I can't quite decipher.

"Oh yeah, hi." I scramble to say, standing up from the table and holding my hand out like an idiot.

Cole's eyes glance down at my hand before bouncing back up to my face. Reluctantly his palm slides against mine and he gives it a good shake before pulling away with a laugh.

"So formal."

He pulls the chair out next to mine, throwing his body into it and leaning over to reach into his backpack.

"Sorry." My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I sit back down.

His scent immediately intoxicates me, and I can't tell if it's cologne or just him. The woodsy notes fill my senses and I can't help but wonder if he knows how enamored everyone is by Cole Walter.

"So, Mr. Henry seems to think that I need some help with calculus. Can you help me, Gracie?"

I give him a soft smile, not daring to look him in the eyes. They're the most inviting waters, though I would hate to feel like a sinking ship.

"I suppose I could, Cole."

He pulls his last test out of his folder, sliding it in my direction for me to look it over.

"Do you tutor a lot?"

I hate the way that his voice fills me, making my whole body flush just from his proximity.

"Um, not as much anymore. I'm kind of busy recently."

My eyes scan over the pages of his test as I nervously tap my fingers against the fabric of my jeans. In all honesty, Cole has a pretty good grasp of the concepts, he just struggles with using them.

Cole's silent for a moment before speaking again.

"Hm. Busy with what?"

I ignore his question, finally pulling my eyes up to look at him.

"I think this is fixable. You're not bad at calculus, Cole. We just need to work on applying the stuff you already know."

I don't want Cole to know things about me because I don't want him to become real. The more distance I keep, the more comfortable I am. There nothing I would hate more than for him to realize that I'm just as obsessed with him as every other girl. It's pathetic, really, the way that he just pulls me in without even knowing.

But I don't want a gold rush. I want something real, tangible. Cole Walter is nothing more than the kind of hope that humans hold on to. It's too good to be true, and I would much rather be looking at it from a distance than get to close and realize that it's all been a lie that I've been telling myself.

Cole seems a little caught off guard with my deflection, his eyes flicking between mine as if deciding whether to call me out for it. He doesn't, going along with me instead.

"Sure. Teach me the art of integrals, Gracie."

I work with Cole on correcting his test for the next hour, determined to focus on something that makes sense to me. Calculus. When the hour hand of the clock reaches three, I write down a list of practice problems for Cole to work on at home.

"Alright, these are for you to work on, and we'll go over them at our next session, okay?"

I start to put my textbook into my bag, standing to leave.

"Okay," Cole draws out, still sitting at the table.

He looks like heaven sitting there, the evening light hitting his skin in an angelic way. It seems as if even the sun herself can't resist Cole Walter.

"Okay." I breath out, giving him a curt nod before leaving the room.

I feel as if I can finally breath again as I step into the parking lot, allowing the fresh air to fill my lungs and clear my head. Heading toward my green Jeep, I halt when I hear someone call my name. I turn around, hand pausing on the handle of the driver's door.

Cole is walking in my direction and I think for a moment that I forgot something at the table. When he reaches me, he leans his arm against the hood of my car, taking a moment to admire my biggest pride.

"Nice car." He gives me a smile that allows dimples to form at his cheeks, and there's something so human about it that it makes me dizzy.

"Thanks."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, and I turn my head to scan around the parking lot, confused.

"Did you need something?"

I probably sound like a bitch, but I have work at 3:30 and I don't want Mary to be upset with me.

"Oh, uh yeah. I can't do seventh period for our next tutoring session. Taking my sister to her football practice."

"Oh. Well I have volleyball in the morning and work after school- I can't really do any other time."

"You could come to my house after work?"

The question catches me so off guard that I swear I almost start to violently cough.

"I couldn't- I get off pretty late and I don't want to make you wait for me. We could just wait until next week."

Cole seems amused at my rambling, tilting his head while my eyes fight to look anywhere else but him.

"Nah, it's cool if you're okay with it. I really want to do good in calc. Here, give me your phone."

He holds his hand out and I don't even hesitate before putting the cream phone case into his palm. Cole adds his number to my phone, texting himself to set it up.

"Okay, just text me when you get off and I'll send you my address. See you tomorrow, tutor girl."

I feel like my body is frozen in place as he backs away, waving at me before getting into his truck.

Cole Walter just put his number in my phone. My. Phone. What the fuck.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I think that my favorite thing about the sun is that it holds our entire solar system together. Its gravity is so magnetic that it keeps all of the planets orbiting around it in a constant rhythm.

It provides all possibility of life for us, while not harboring any of its own.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The next day, I feel like my shift at the bookstore lasts a million years. Time moves slowly, inching by as I dread going to Cole's house. Like I said, I don't like that he's becoming real. And even worse, I hate that I almost like him more now that I've been around him. This is absolutely dreadful.

I hold my chin in my hand as I watch the minutes tick by, my body shielded by the register. Today's been pretty slow, though I did see a new paperback release from Emily Henry that has me wanting to buy it immediately. When it reaches 7:30, Mary wanders to the front, letting me off. My stomach drops with butterflies when the reality of seeing Cole Walter's life outside of school settles in. It feels wrong, in a way.

Reluctantly, I type out a message to Cole, praying that he remembered the fact that we were supposed to meet after I got off work.

Gracie: hey, it's gracie! i just got off work if we're still good for tutoring

Cole wastes no time sending me his address, about ten minutes away.

Cole: See ya soon, tutor girl ;)

I ignore the way that heat flushes my cheeks from his text and drive to his house, admiring the way that the sunset paints the sky with the final light of the day.

When I pull up to the ranch house, the pale yellow home seems to tell a story. The final streaks of light disappear beyond the tops of the aspen trees, and the moon peeks over the horizon. I text Cole to let him know that I'm here before grabbing my backpack and closing the door of my Jeep.

Cole meets me at the front door, swinging it open as I walk up the porch steps, the dark wood creaking beneath me. He flashes me a smile and I notice his eyes scan me up and down before settling on my face. I'm wearing a pair of baggy low rise jeans with a simple black tank top, a white pair of sneakers on my feet. My hair is in waves, the dark hair cascading to the middle of my back.

My lips lift softly in his direction, as he leans against the doorframe. He adorns a worn broncos shirt and a pair of grey sweats, looking so effortlessly beautiful. My hands clutch onto the straps of my bag as I stand in front of him, needing something to release the pent up nerves.

"Hey." I rock uncomfortably on my heels.

"Hey," he nods his head toward the house, "here, come on in."

I follow him inside, kicking off my shoes at the entrance before glancing around in the house. Warm wood encases the surfaces, the walls covered in photos and artwork. My home is nothing like this, almost sterile in comparison.

I hate how much more real it makes him feel.

Cole heads up the stair case and I follow, my eyes scanning each image, trying to understand how a family could have this many photos. He waits at the top, watching as I pause on a couple of the pictures, admiring the large smiles that grace the Walter boys as they grow.

"There's so many." I breath out at the top of the staircase, Cole twisting the handle of his door.

"Yeah, we get that a lot." Cole laughs.

"No I mean, there's so many pictures. I think my mom maybe has five pictures of me as a baby."

Cole gives me an odd look, and I realize that I just told him something real about me. It's something that I didn't realize was that weird until I started visiting my friend's houses growing up. That the parents saw their kids as their biggest accomplishments, rather than a burden to take care of until I move out. Though, I've never known anything different, so I don't think it really bothers me.

"Anyway," I work to change the subject, resting my backpack against the corner of his bed frame, "did you finish those problems?"

He doesn't say anything for a second, before internally shaking himself out of it and clearing his throat.

"Yeah, all except one. I didn't know where to start."

I nod, placing my textbook on the floor next to his bed and sliding myself to a sitting position, knees pulled to my chest.

"How was work?" Cole asks, handing me his problem sheet before laying on top of the bed, head close to mine.

"Slow. But we got in a new book I really want to read so that's fun."

Cole's head is next to mine as we both scan his paper, and I give him corrections as well as a starting point for the problem he was confused on. His proximity has my chest tightening, my whole body feeling like it's in fight or flight mode. I can feel his breath warm against me, his heat radiating like a phone you've been using too long.

I play with my fingernails as Cole works on the problem. It's so weird being in his room, seeing the posters he hung up as memories of his childhood. His fascinations and all the little things that make Cole Walter, Cole Walter.

"Done." I startle at his voice and the feeling of his arm as it brushes against my shoulder to hand me the paper.

My eyes catch on a bookshelf, filled with worn paperbacks.

"You like to read?"

I turn my head to catch Cole's eyes, and he's a lot closer than I expected, our faces merely inches apart.

"Yeah. Mostly just the shit that my dad buys for me at garage sales, though. Bet that's pretty funny since I'm kind of shit at school, huh, tutor girl."

I roll my eyes playfully, a smile involuntarily taking over my face.

"Okay, first of all, you're not shit as school, Cole. And second of all, stop calling me that."

"Or what?" His voice drops, shivers covering my spine.

I gulp, my mind racing to convince myself that this isn't real. It's another daydream that will disappear as soon as I wake myself up. Cole's too close, and he's looking at me in a way that I can't understand.

Gold rush, I remind myself. He's not real.

"How have we never talked before, Gracie?" His eyes don't leave mine.

The Sun, being a dynamic star, is constantly changing. At least, that's what NASA says. And I believe them for the most part. For so long, Cole has been this comfortable force in my life, something just out of reach, but always there. As much as I never want that to change, I can't help but think that this is worth the risk. Because just as the Sun, we are also constantly changing.

Cole is propped up by his elbow, his chest in my direction. His scent, as always, is intoxicating and now I'm certain that it's just him.

"I don't know. I guess I've always been too nervous." I confess.

"That's such bullshit. You're like a billion times more interesting than me."

"Cole. You have no idea the effect you have on people." I breath out, blinking slowly as he scans over my face.

Cole's head dips slightly, and he's suddenly close enough that if I were to lean slightly, we would be kissing. His hand reaches to my cheek, my breath catching at the soft touch.

"Gracie." He whispers.

All I can do is nod, answering the question he seemed to be asking.

He brushes his lips against mine, softly, before leaning in fully. And it doesn't feel quite real, that Cole Walter is kissing me. Eighteen years of life, eight of them spent consumed by him when I was so sure he didn't even know I existed. I'd dated, but Cole was always there, a place in my mind just for him.

My eyes flutter shut as I lean into his touch, our lips molded together in a dance. He increases the pressure, tilting my head back with his thumb against my jaw. Cole's tongue teases my lips, and they part to allow him access as he moans softly against my mouth.

I'd never felt like this before, not even with my ex-boyfriend who I had dated for two years. This felt electric, something so overwhelming that my whole body was on fire.

I pull away slightly, needing to remember that it's not real. When Cole goes to kiss me again, I tilt my head toward the floor.

"I- um. I should get going. I'll send you the practice test for the exam next week, okay?"

I stand up and swing my backpack over my shoulder, stepping toward his door and swinging it open.

Part of me feels bad, but I don't want to be another girl on Cole's roster. It's just another crack breaking through the delusion that I've been convincing myself of for years.

Cole's eyes are soft on mine when I raise my head to look at him again.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah, I'll see you around, Cole."

I walk out, trying to keep my head held up until I climb inside my car. My forehead rests against the steering wheel as inevitable tears escape me.

It's best to let him go. I would hate to fall for him, only to be crushed when I reach reality. Because falling is magical until that final bone crush, when everything hits at once.

#cole walter #my life with the walter boys #fanfic #fanfiction #cole walter oneshot #mlwtwb #mlwtwb imagines #cole x reader

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