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ellemj · 6 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read Pt. 1 yet, READ IT FIRST.**

Summary: You fight the effects of the chemical compound for as long as you can, until Bucky makes you an offer that your body can't seem to refuse. But, you each have a rule that the other has to follow.

Warnings: this one is a huge fucking tease, I'm so sorry (I won't be sorry when I release part 3 tonight), masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 4k (I just couldn't stop the build up)

Author's Note: I cannot believe the overwhelming response on part one of this, I was just in a silly goofy mood and decided to finally use my Tumblr for something other than reading y'alls AMAZING fics every night before bed. I didn't expect anyone to really even see it. My heart is racing as I get ready to post this rn lmao. PLEASEEE tell me what your fav part of this one is, I have to know. Part 3 will be out tonight, I can't make you guys wait too much.

Bucky’s resolve has been steadily crumbling for the past hour, and truthfully, he’s barely placing any blame on the chemical compound that’s interacting with the serum coursing through his veins. He’s placing the blame on you and the needy, whimpering noises that you’ve been making for the last forty-five minutes. After the video conference with Bruce and Tony ended, you were quick to lock yourself in one of the bedrooms of the safe house. You didn’t even say another word to Bucky, you just stood up from the couch with one hand clutched over your stomach, and hurried off down the hall. He wanted to say something to you, but what the hell was he supposed to say? I’m sorry that we’re in this situation? That wouldn’t help a damn thing. You’re in it and there’s nothing either one of you can do except pray that you’ll have enough self-control to make it through the night with your doors still locked.

Bucky sat on the couch for a few minutes after you left, replaying Tony’s last warning to you in his head. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system. It made him feel like shit. He can find relief on his own, he can take care of himself tonight, but you? You’ll suffer for a minimum of eight hours, possibly nearing death, alone behind a locked door. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself. He’s perfectly aware of how capable you are at handling practically anything. He’s been your partner in the field for two months now and he’s never once had a doubt about your skills, your ability to tolerate pain, or even the split-second decisions you have to make sometimes during missions. You might give each other shit the majority of the time that you’re working together, but when it comes down to it, you trust each other with no reservations. So, why then, does he find himself so fucking worried about you?

He’s been locked in the bedroom across the hall from yours for the past hour now. He thought maybe things wouldn’t be so bad when he heard you tucking yourself away into bed, when he heard you go still and silent for a few minutes. It was smart of you, trying to sleep as much as you could before the chemical fully set in and began to wreak havoc within your body. But after only fifteen minutes, he heard the faintest sound carrying across the hall. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, thinking maybe you’d gotten up to use the bathroom and it was the creak of a floorboard or maybe a door hinge. It was wishful thinking. The second time he heard it, he was sure. You were whimpering in your sleep. For a few moments, he was able to deceive himself into thinking it was whimpers of pain, maybe from your stomach aching in your sleep. When you grew louder, the sounds of your soft, breathy moans mixing with the sound of the sheets rustling as you tossed and turned restlessly, that’s when his resolve began to break apart piece by piece. He sits on the side of his bed in total darkness. His shirt and tactical pants are strewn across the floor where he previously discarded them when the heat emanating from his body became too much to bear. His hands grip the edge of the mattress with enough force to break through the layers of fabric there, but he fears that if he lets go, the next thing his hands will grip will be either his cock or the two door knobs separating you both. Focusing on your suffering is keeping him from feeling his own pain, but the noises you’re making are making it significantly harder for him to ignore the needs that are bubbling to the surface within him. Shit. How the fuck did he end up in this situation with you?

You awake suddenly, drenched in sweat, your sweats especially making you feel like damp towels are wrapped around your legs. You waste no time throwing the covers back and ripping your sweats off, tossing them onto the floor and moving your hair to lay it across your pillow so it’s not sticking to your neck. Fuck HYDRA. Fuck Zemo for killing Dr. Nagel. Obviously, you wouldn’t have wanted him running around recreating the super soldier serum either, but if he was still alive maybe you wouldn’t be lying here in this state. You take a deep breath in, counting to three in your head as you breathe it back out. Focusing in on your symptoms, you try to make a mental list. You think that maybe if you can remind yourself of the science behind the symptoms, you won’t become an irrationally horny mess, you can just reason your way out of the most intense arousal you’ve ever felt in your life. Sweating, tachycardia, abdominal cramping, bone pain…you stupidly let your right hand slide down between your legs. Your fingertips briefly grace the exterior fabric of your black boyshort panties, feeling how wet they are adds another symptom to the mental list, not that you needed to feel it to know. Arousal.

You lean over to the bedside table and feel around blindly for your phone. The screen illuminates and you see that it’s only 10 pm. You’ve only been sleeping for an hour. The chemical compound isn’t even at its peak activity level yet and you’re already beginning to feel a type of desperation that you haven’t felt before. You need relief. Tony’s words swirl around in your mind, making you feel lightheaded and making you want to hunt him down and make him take the words back by force, like that would change the reality of the situation you’re currently in. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.

You could try finding relief on your own. Tony isn’t lord over all things scientific. When has he ever dealt with a compound like this before? Never. He doesn’t know shit. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that he could be wrong. Sitting up in bed, you reach over and flip on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, casting a pale glow across the room. You will yourself to think clearly, to make a plan and implement it. You can fight this. You need something that’ll take down your body temperature, slow your heart rate, and ease some of the pain you’re feeling everywhere. A cold shower.

Bucky listens intently as you open your door and your feet patter softly down the hall. He listens as you shut and lock the bathroom door behind you and then as you turn on the shower. He mentally curses his heightened sense of hearing when he hears the tussle of your clothes hitting the floor. He’s been ignoring his hardening cock as it grows beneath the black fabric of his boxers. He’s been ignoring it because he feared if he tried to relieve himself, you’d likely hear him across the hall and he’d never let himself live it down. He can’t be the first one to break. But maybe, with you being in the shower, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything coming from his room. Why the hell are you even in the shower? He imagines the pain you’re in would make it hard for you to stand in there for very long, and it’s not like a shower is going to give you much relief at all. He can’t wonder for more than a quick moment, before the chemical begins to really cloud his mind, his clear thoughts becoming hazy behind thoughts of chasing relief. Fuck it. You won’t hear a damn thing.

Bucky sighs deeply as his lays back on the bed, still in darkness, pushing his boxers down a few inches and freeing his hard length. His flesh hand quickly wraps around it, giving it a slow stroke from base to tip, pre-cum quickly coating his fingers.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans lowly. It’s never felt like this before. It’s as if every nerve in his body has shifted, has traveled down to embed in his cock. His head falls back into his pillow, his eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of his shaft finally being handled. He works his fist up and down, picking up speed and reveling in the feeling of temporary relief. As he strokes his cock, he feels the pain throughout his body slowly dissipating, easing up but not fully disappearing. Before he can stop himself, he’s picturing exactly what you’d look like right now. Your perfectly toned body standing under a stream of water, your hands running down your smooth skin, your eyes closed as you let the shower wash away your discomfort. He feels guilty. Truly, he does. But it's as if he has no control over his thoughts when his hand is on his cock and his veins are corrupted with a potent chemical from hell. Especially not when you’re naked a mere ten feet down the hall. As Bucky nears his climax, his balls tightening and his cock twitching in his hand, a loud crash resounds throughout the house and he’s brought back to reality. He’s on his feet, his boner tucked reluctantly away in his boxers, and his bedroom door flying open in less than two seconds, fearing the worst. He thinks you must’ve passed out from the effects of the chemical, fallen in the shower, maybe split your head open. When he reaches for the bathroom door knob and finds it locked, he’s giving no second thought to breaking the door down. Hell, he decided he was going to break it down before he ever left his room. He takes one step back, ready to use his leg to kick through it, when he hears the shower water cut off and the curtain pull back.

“Y/n?” His voice is laced with concern and it takes you by surprise. You’d only been standing in the ice-cold shower for two minutes when you realized it wasn’t going to do shit for you. You aren’t usually one to lose your temper, but feeling so hopeless and helpless, your only plan failing to provide you with any relief, you ended up slamming your fist into the tiled shower wall out of pure frustration. You didn’t do it hard enough to really hurt yourself, but apparently hard enough to alarm Bucky.

“You’re supposed to be locked in your room.” You call out, your voice coming out a little timid and quieter than you intended. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out of the shower and examine yourself in front of the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks are still flushed, your pupils are dilated so much that you’re surprised the lights aren’t hurting your eyes yet, and your rapid pulse is nearly visible in your neck. You let your hair down from the bun you threw it up into for the shower and then pull on the same shirt and damp panties you had on moments earlier.

“I thought you fell.” Bucky says quietly, barely above a whisper. You can tell he’s standing close to the door. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. You freeze, your hands clutching the edge of the bathroom sink as your body responds to his voice, against your rational mind’s will. You feel a familiar heat gathering between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together. He needs to go back to his room. Now.

“Bucky, go back to bed.” Your voice is firm, without a single hint of hesitation. Bucky knows that he should heed the warning. He knows he should turn around right now and go back and lock his door. Instead, he stands there in the hallway with his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers and a conflicted expression on his face. You said earlier that your only option was to lock yourselves in your respective rooms and ride it out until morning. Was that really the only option though? He could easily think of a few more options, though admittedly, he might not be thinking with his brain anymore.

“You have to go back to your room before I come out.” You’re starting to sound like you’re pleading with him. As much as you want to act strong and like you have all of the self-control in the world right now, you’re worried that if you step out into the hall and see him, you won’t be able to stop yourself from reaching out for him. You want to feel his skin beneath your hands as you run your palms from his shoulders, down his chest, straight to the waistband of whatever the hell he’s wearing right now. You want to have him completely bare in front of you, with nothing stopping you from dragging him straight to your bed to find the relief that you both so desperately crave right now. A sharp pang in your lower stomach causes you to let out a soft groan, and the sudden inhale you hear from Bucky through the door doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Not until I see that you’re okay.” Bucky says, still worried that you fell in the shower or hurt yourself somehow. Not wanting to waste any more time letting the chemical stew in your reproductive system, you flip the bathroom light off so you’re thrown into darkness, before unlocking the bathroom door and pulling it open slowly. You can just barely make out his form in the dark hallway, the curve of his broad shoulders, the glint of the black and gold vibranium making up his left arm, and fuck…the ripples down his abdomen. You’ve always thought he was frustratingly attractive, but now? Just looking at him has you insatiable. You realize quickly that he’s not wearing anything except a pair of black boxers and his dog tags. He’s really not making this easy on you. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh, telling yourself to suck it up and walk past him. Just walk past him. But now you what he looks like with nearly no clothes on, and he’s so close to you. So. Damn. Close. A foot away from you, to be exact.

“I’m fine, just go back to bed.” You whisper. You don’t trust yourself to speak any louder, worried that raising your voice might awake something much more primal within yourself.

“Look at me.” He says, matching your whisper volume. Shit. Shit, shit. Shit. No.

“Don’t—” You’re cut off by the feel of his cool vibranium fingers wrapping around your right hand, lifting it so he can see it better. You suck in a harsh breath at the contact. It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, it’s not even what you need. You need skin. You need him against you. But something about the cool metal contrasting against the warmth of your heated hand feels electrifying.

“Did you punch the wall?” He questions, examining your reddened knuckles with narrowed eyes. Your eyes remain closed as you nod your head, and he takes the moment to scan his eyes down your body. Your t-shirt skims along the tops of your thighs and he knows if you turned around, it wouldn’t even fully cover the curve of your ass. Fuck, he wants you to turn around. He drops your hand as quickly as he first grabbed it, letting it fall back to your side as he begins running his flesh hand through his disheveled hair.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” Bucky has to know. He knows how high your pain tolerance is, he knows how good you are at putting on a brave face in the worst situations. He has to know how much you’re really suffering right now before he makes an offer that he can’t take back.

“Four.” You fib, pressing your lips together and daring to open your eyes and look back at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little more and you can see the sweat glistening across his chest, his quick breaths drawing your attention straight to his pecs.

“Don’t lie to me.” His gaze hardens. He hates that you’d try to lie to him. Do you really not trust him enough to just be open with him? Jesus, he’s standing in front of you in his fucking boxers with a hard-on that you haven’t even noticed yet and somehow you feel the need to keep things from him, like he isn’t just as vulnerable as you are right now.

“Seven.” You admit truthfully. The pain in your stomach has intensified, and all you want to do is curl into a ball right there on the floor. You feel like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, you feel like someone attempted to extinguish that fire with a gallon of hot sauce, and then ran you over with a semi-truck. You reach out for the door frame with your right hand, using it for balance as your legs begin to feel weaker.

“Y/n-” Bucky starts, ready to make you an offer, but you don’t let him continue. He knows it’s crossing a line. He’s fully aware that if he offers and you say no, things could just get weird between the two of you. He’s even more aware that if he offers and you say yes, it could effectively end your working relationship. But he can’t stand to see you like this. You might give each other shit more often than you’re civil with each other, but something about you being in pain has always sat wrong with him. He worries more about you in the field than he worries about himself.

“Don’t say my name, just…” You cut him off, but your voice trails off as your eyes wander down to the front of his boxers, finally noticing the way he’s straining against the fabric, his tip resting just barely under the waistband. “If you keep standing here, if you keep saying things to me, I’m not going to be able to go back to my room. I need you to walk away before I lose the power to let you.” Your warning should be clear as day now. He needs to leave you alone.

“No.” His refusal hits a nerve, angering you more than you would’ve thought possible. You feel a rush of adrenaline surge through you as you lose control of your actions. You place your hands against his chest, shoving him back, hard. He barely moves, which just further enrages you. “Y/n, we can fix this. I can fix this for you.” His offer is out in the open now. He holds his breath as you freeze in front of him, your hands falling away from his chest and your eyes squeezing shut in contemplation.

“Do you even realize what you’re offering?” Your question hangs in the air between the two of you, and the tension in the hallway makes it feel as though lightning is about to strike the tiny cobblestone house that you stand in. You wish lightning would strike. When you open your eyes this time, the look in Bucky’s eye has changed. There’s something in place of his usual hard gaze, something that nearly draws you in.

“Yes.” He’s offering to fuck you. He’s offering to give you the relief that you so badly need, the relief that can only be found when he finishes inside you. You’re hallucinating. That’s what this is. Because there is no fucking way that he’s standing in front of you right now, the six-foot tall super soldier who you can barely get along with outside of mandatory missions, offering to fuck you raw. “I know what I’m offering.” You only take a moment to weigh your options. Go back to your room, lock the door, and suffer for the next 7-10 hours or have sex with him and hope that it doesn’t ruin your entire life. Why would it ruin your life? Because he’s the only partner that you’ve trusted enough to work with since Nat passed, and there’s no way that things can just be fine and normal after you’ve seen each other naked. Things would get awkward, it’d be hard to look at each other, hard to see each other as professionals anymore. And your work, your job, is your life. Outside of this you have nothing. No family, not a single friend that isn't connected to this damn line of work, not a damn thing to turn to when this inevitably goes to shit.

“Stop overthinking it.” Bucky’s voice breaks you out of your whirlwind of thoughts. Against your better judgement, you make eye contact with him and the way he’s looking at you gives you butterflies. Butterflies? Who the fuck are you right now? “Close your eyes.” His voice is low, making the butterflies in your stomach explode and spread outward until it feels like your skin is tingling. You don’t know why you do as he says, but your eyes close and you stand there with bated breath as the floorboards creak. He’s stepping closer to you, stopping when you feel his breath fanning across your face. He trails his flesh fingertips from the back of your left hand and up your arm slowly, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your overheated skin but leaving some kind of calmness behind. You relish the way your left arm becomes the only part of your body that isn’t in pain, the only part that he’s touching.

“Okay…” Your voice is raspy as you cave to his touch. “But I have a rule.” He pulls his hand away and you wince as the pain quickly returns to the bones deep within your arm. He raises an eyebrow at you as he waits for you to continue. “You can’t kiss my lips.”

Bucky hesitates for a second, caught off guard by your insane rule. No kissing? During sex? Do you hate him that much? Fuck, he shouldn’t have offered to do this in the first place. It’s obvious that you really don’t want this, and he won’t be able to get off knowing that.

“Who’s overthinking now?” You laugh out, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom door. You took his hesitation as a rejection of your rule, and if he rejects your rule then you’re not doing this. If he kisses you, you’re scared you’re going to feel something. You can have sex and find absolutely zero meaning in it, that’s not that hard. It’s just a physical act. But kissing? Kissing makes it too intimate, too much of a real connection. You won’t give that away so easily. Just as you’re nearing the door, you feel Bucky’s hand wrap tightly around your wrist and pull you back, spinning you around so you’re facing him. In less than a second, he’s walking you backwards until your ass hits the wall and your hand is pinned above your head, with his body pressed firmly against yours. His nose brushes over the tip of yours and you shudder at the feeling of his skin, his body giving off so much heat that you’re regretting having put your shirt back on earlier.

“Fine, I won’t kiss you.” He rasps. His vibranium hand is gripping your hip, holding you solidly against the wall as he moves to run his lips along your jawline. He doesn’t kiss your skin, he simply lets his lips ghost over it, making you tilt your head to the side in anticipation. “I have one rule of my own.”

“What’s that?” Your voice sounds a lot more confident than you expected it to, like you’re not fighting to hold yourself together inside. He nips at your earlobe softly and you feel the tip of his tongue against it so lightly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“You’re going to wear these while I fuck you.” He guides your right hand up over the perfect ridges of his abs, across his chest, and straight to the dog tags that hang around his neck.

Next Part

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singmyaubade · 1 year

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in love with my bullies

warning: mentions of smut : throatfucking, p in v bullying, and cursing

sypnosis : the marauders bullied you, tortured you. what will happen when you finally stick up for yourself?

dark!poly!marauders x female!reader

pacing is horrible in this story, ik but i was writing it while listening to music LMAO. did not proofread btw..

once again, here you were.

washing green slime gunk out of your hair in the abandoned bathrooms due to another marauders prank that was only towards you.

somehow their pranks always involved washing something out.

you tried your best to not be bothered or even show any sign of disdain in your face but this had really pissed you off.

it was relentless.

everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. the marauders would continue to bully you for no reason other than you being a slytherin.

but you would think that since there are so many slytherins, you wouldn't be top pick. you were quiet, kept to yourself, and never tried to go noticed in a huge crowd.

yet all the marauders did was pick you out and torture you.

the only one that showed you mercy was peter, he usually hung out with his girlfriend and never paid you much attention.

you thought it would be remus since he had a reputation for being mature and kind-hearted but even he showed you no mercy.

it's not like you could ask for any help, you didn't have a lot of friends that could help and even though you were a pureblood, the pureblood slytherins didn't accept you because of you family not helping the dark lord.

it wasn't easy.

and even though you tried to reason with them, they refused due to the fact you believed in 'blood supremacy' and you thought muggles 'deserved hell' which was complete rumors and you didn't believe that at all.

and now it was time to go back to class and the slimy substance had yet to disappear on your head. you then tried several spells in order to get it out of your hair and one had worked, getting whatever you couldn't.

you performed a drying spell before exiting out of the bathroom. you stepped out to see three out of the four marauders laying on the left of the wall with a smirk embroided on their face.

you scoffed, trying to move elsewhere.

"was that a scoff i heard?" james asked, stepping towards you with intimidation.

you never tried to look scared but you could tell it was painted all over your face.

"just let me go." you said, whimpering a little.

"aww," sirius stood in front of you, "are you gonna cry?" he asked, mocking you.

"i think she is." james replied in the same tone.

you looked over to remus who was looking at the entire situation with a look of entertainment and interest.

"fuck you." you spat, stepping face to face with james.

"don't say something you'll regret." he responded in a dark tone as you moved to step backwards but sirius was suddenly behind you.

you tried to carry a strong look on your face but they could tell you were easily intimidated.

"if you wanna go so bad," remus stood off of the wall and toward you, "all you have to say is please." his pointer finger holding up your chin.

you knew you wouldn't be able to move without doing as he asked.

"please," you whispered, locking in his eye contact, eyes watering.

"please what?" remus asked.

"please let me go." you said.

"good girl," he complimented, "that's all you had to say."

"you just have to be good, bunny." sirius whispered in your ear, feeling his hot breath down your neck, hand holding your waist.

in this moment, you were glad this was an abandoned hallway.

the worst part was, you wanted sirius to touch you more, aching for relief in your core.

you couldn't stop the butterflies in your belly nor the vibration in your entire body, it was as if you could feel all of your sense ten times more especially in your cunt.

your eyes were even getting blurry as if you were stuck in a trance.

you suddenly snapped back to reality to realize there was nobody around you, remus's eye contact, sirius's hand on your shoulder and james's stern tone, all gone.

it was all as if you had imagined it and the only thing that argued with that was the vibration throughout your body.

you had decided to take the rest of the day off, going to your dorm.

you entered your dorm to see your best friend, riley.

"i looked for you everywhere!" riley yelled, hugging you, "i gave them each a piece of my mind before i went to look for you." she looked into your eyes.

"it's fine riles, you know they are assholes." you said, half smiling.

"i'll kill them if you want me to, seriously," she said, knowing she wasn't joking.

you laughed it off, going to fix your bed.

"soooo," riley said, "there's a party tonight."

"where?" you asked.

a moment passed, "gryffindor."

you rolled your eyes, "no."

"cmon y/n!" she sat on your bed, "you can not let your fear of the marauders stop you from going to a party?"

"that's not it!" you said, still fluffing your pillow, "slytherin's aren't allowed at gryffindor parties."

"im pretty sure that rule only applies to the malfoys, dolohovs, blacks, and every dark lord supporter," riley said.

"they still hate me." you replied.

"only the marauders," she convinced.

"and they run that house," you argued.

"no they don't, most people think they are irritating." riley said factually.

"please don't make me go." you groaned.

"for me, please." riley pouted.

"don't do the puppy dog eyes," you groaned as she continued doing it, "fine, i'll go." you said, riley yelling excitingly and smothering you.

"can i still wear this?" you asked through her screaming.

she stopped and looked at you in disappointment, "y/n, i know i am not best friends with a vulture."

you giggled as riley went to her closet and picked out a red dress that was a little too short for your liking.

"this will hug your shape perfectly!" riley squeaked and went inside the bathroom before you could even give a response.

after a couple hours, you and riley were both finally done getting ready. she looked at you in total shock, "y/n, you look so fucking hot right now. and i mean that in the gayest way possible." her mouth open.

your entire face turned blush pink, "not too bad yourself riley." you laughed.

"let's go." riley suddenly rushed, grabbing your hand, practically dragging you to the gryffindor common room.

you couldn't hear anything from outside but you guessed it was a silencing charm.

you heard riley mutter the password before the dark opened and you saw students from each house having the time of their lives and the music was outrageously blasting.

riley grabbed your hand, dragging you through as the door closed.

you looked around to see if you could spot any of the marauders, only finding peter dancing with his girlfriend.

it was like you were a bunny in a room with foxes that you couldn't distinguish.

"let's dance!" riley shouted, making you look at her.

you shook your head but riley rolled her eyes and dragged you on the dance floor.

she started dancing but it's like she could feel your awkwardness as she grabbed your hips, moving your body with hers to the rythym.

eventually, you decided to just let go and try to enjoy yourself.

after about two or three songs, you had told riley that you were going to get a drink and asked if she wanted any but she was already making out with a hufflepuff girl and only swatted her hand.

you laughed, moving over to the drinks table.

you poured yourself some firewhisky when you felt someone roughly grab your wrist.

you turned around to see three of the marauders with james having a hold of your wrist to which you scoffed, yanking your wrist back.

"can you guys seriously fuck off for one night?" you sighed.

"have you forgotten yourself?" remus genuinely asked.

this was the night to stick up for yourself.

"have you?" you argued, "you all are fucking pathetic," you laughed humorlessly to which you could feel their anger radiating onto you, "i pray for the poor bastards who end up being your children if you all can even have any when your too busy sucking eachothers cocks," you insulted, "but if you don't me, i am going to go bed because you have unfortunately ruined this party for me." you shoved past them harshly, leaving the common room.

adrenaline was bouncing off of you, a new high you had never felt before. you were even partly turned on by the whole encounter.

you were even surprised they had let you pass

you speedwalked through the hallway in victory, you felt like you had finally won, that you had finally got a one up off of them.

you had yet to realize that the hallways were dark with a little bit of moonlight pouring through and you couldn't navigate your way due to you leaving your wand in your dorm.

you went to turn back to the common room but bumped into a hard surface to which you looked up to see remus lupin.

your heart skipped a beat as he roughly put his hand around your neck, shoving you into a wall. he was squeezing not enough for you to go unconcious but enough for you to not be able to take full breaths.

"what happened to your voice sweetheart?" he said as you croaked, "what happened to that dirty mouth?" you tried slapping off his hand but he only pushed you further into the wall.

you looked to both of your sides to see james and sirius.

"what do you think boys?" remus asked, "think she deserves to be punished?"

your eyes opened wider as you tried to make a sound but it came out in little squeaks.

"i think she does moony, i think we have given her too much freedom." sirius responded.

"yeah, i think we might have to fuck her into obedience." james said, inching closer.

even you couldn't stop the wet patch in your panties.

"i think that's what she wants, i mean let me check." remus said as confusion painted your face.

you felt him raise your dress up, hand now in your panties as you moaned.

"she's soaking wet," remus scoffed, "turns out to be a little slut after all."

you felt remus start rubbing your clit as you moaned more, his grip on your neck never softening.

you and remus staring at each other as james whispered something in his ear and he nodded.

he suddenly took his hand out of your panties, your entirety angry at his lack of letting you release.

he put your hands behind your back, leading you somewhere you couldn't figure out. there was a haze in your eyes that made it impossible for you to see a thing.

you heard a door close as you looked around, it was james's prefect dorm.

before you could grasp onto your reality, james put his mouth onto yours, bruising your lips as you moaned into his mouth.

you tried catching your breath but james was relentless, not letting you go.

you could feel sirius behind you, sucking hickeys onto your neck, knowing it would leave spots.

you couldn't even spot remus in the room due to all of the pleasure you felt.

sirius was unzipping your dress, letting it fall onto the ground. james was working your bra, letting it fall to the ground as he nibbled on your nipple.

sirius pulled your panties down, lifting your legs out of them.

suddenly, they both stopped touching you which made you whimper.

"on your knees bunny." sirius instructed as you obeyed almost immediately.

remus came into view, stepping in front of you.

"are you gonna suck my cock nice bunny?" remus asked, tipping your head up to look at him using his pointer finger.

you nodded immediately.

"good girl." he complimented which sent you into orbit.

he stroked his cock in his pants, bringing it out. his cock sprung up out of his boxers, pre-cum leaking off of his tip.

you licked stripes onto his tip causing him to groan.

"don't tease bunny." he moaned which caused you took his entirety into your mouth, gagging. he ponytailed your hair from going into your face using his hand.

you were still looking up at him as he threw his head back in pleasure, "so fucking good bunny," he praised you which sent tingles in your cunt, "sucks cock like a fucking champ,"

you looked over to see james and sirius jerking off to the sight in front of them.

before he could come, remus pulled you off of his cock, standing you up.

he took off his boxers fully, laying on the bed, reaching for you to climb on top of him.

you put your knees on the side of his hips as he stroked himself a bit and aligned himself up to your cunt.

you sank down on his cock with a moan, trying to fully adjust yourself. both of his hands were on your hips, speeding you up slowly.

you felt a mouth on your neck, sucking. the pleasure hitting you rapidly.

suddenly, remus pulled your head down to kiss you, his hand gripped on your neck while roughly fucking you.

you felt someone prodding into your ass before slipping inside. you moaned loudly into remus's mouth.

"bunny, don't tense." james said and you knew he was the one prodding. he went slowly but every time he went in, you sank down on remus's cock which made immediate pleasure shoot inside of you.

"you feel so fucking good," remus complimented, sucking harsh bruises onto your skin.

"so fucking good." james murmured.

both of their words praising you made you almost come on sight.

you were so cock drunk, babbling about how close you were. your eyes were watering due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving.

what made you crazier was sirius putting your mouth on his cock, throat fucking you while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

your spit dribbling off of your chin as tears rained on your cheeks.

remus sucked on your nipple as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

their words muffled in your eyes.

remus and james had both cum inside of you which caused your first orgasm, moaning loudly, barely able to see due to the pleasure you were recieving.

sirius pulled out of your mouth as you gasped for air, throat being a bit hoarse.

james pulled out of you, delivering a kiss to your neck as a thank you.

your chest dropped to remus's chest as he pet your hair and praised you, "come one more time for me bunny?"

you babbled something while nodding your head which gave sirius permission to slide into your ass.

remus continued holding your head, eyes on his, admiring you.

"i love you bunny." he said before kissing you but this time more softly and delicately.

remus didn't give you the choice whether to say it back or not but you didn't know if he was being genuine or not.

sirius continued pounding into you but you were only able to whimper based on how cock drunk you were.

he praised you, telling you how good you were while remus massaged your puffy clit.

sirius came soon with you as your entire body felt exhausted. remus pulled you off of him as james grabbed a wet towel and wiped your legs and mouth. you winced as he brushed your clit, being hyper sensitive.

remus laid you down into james's bed, putting the blanket over you, kissing your head as you closed your eyes.

you didn't know what you were sure,

that you were in love with your bullies.

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famwhy · 11 months

Text

Bereavement (2)

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)

Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.

Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.

"Y/N!"

It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.

That was your first mistake.

Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.

Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.

"Y/N!"

You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.

Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.

So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.

When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."

So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—

"I've got you, cariño."

—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.

His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.

...okay, very flustered.

"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")

You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.

Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.

"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."

"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

"Miles—"

"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."

"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"

"Of course, mamí."

"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."

As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.

"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."

Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.

"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."

"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"

You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.

"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.

"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."

Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.

Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.

"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."

The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.

"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"

"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."

"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."

For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"

"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"

The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...

"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"

...or was there?

@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma

#miles morales #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #female reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #spiderverse

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yaksha-lover · 6 months

Note

may i request vil, idia, azul and malleus with a reader (reader is their s/o) that is yuu but decided to stay in twisted wonderland and in their second year at nrc they participated in the vdc singing bc, surprise, they have an amazing voice! (i have this thought that maybe they were also in the pop music club with kalim, cater and lillia)

after the vdc many companies contacted them and after graduating at nrc they became a really popular artist

basically the boys reaction to their s/o singing at the vdc and then becoming famous, how would they react and how would they support them

thanks for the request!! sorry i took some time with it! hope you enjoy :)

Vil

Vil probably knew you were a decent singer considering you were in the pop music club

But you’ve never really sang in front of him, so your performance at the VDC definitely takes him by surprise (in a good way)

He’s super happy for you when you start getting offers from recording labels and such

Although he would’ve helped you out with his own contacts in the industry if you’d wanted

He loves that you can relate to each other even more than before

Now you understand what it’s like to be a celebrity as well, both the good and bad, bringing you two closer together

He’s super proud of you and not afraid to show it, hyping you up on all his socials and surprising you with flowers after your concert performances

He’s also very protective of you, knowing how mean and judgemental people can be, and he’s not afraid to stand up for you whenever he can

You two are definitely the celebrity power couple that all the fans love and find super cute

Idia

As much as he didn’t want to go to a social event, Idia was willing to attend just to see you perform

He starts malfunctioning as soon as he hears you sing; he can’t believe he’s with someone so talented and amazing

He’s happy for your success and knows how much you deserve it, even though it can be hard for him considering his antisocial inclinations

He absolutely becomes your biggest fan, no exaggeration

He’s the first to buy all of your merch, wears it proudly and puts up posters of you in his bedroom

Idia is a bit insecure about dating someone so famous and talented and beautiful and kind and every other amazing things that you are

So you’ll need to reassure him sometimes that you still love him and that he’s good enough for you

He’s super shy when you talk about him in interviews, but secretly it makes him so happy for you to acknowledge him as your boyfriend

If you want it, he’ll even offer to help you out with things like editing for music videos or building a website for your brand

Will force himself to go to your concerts, as long as he can sit in the vip box alone with Ortho as the two of them cheer you on

Azul

The first time he hears you sing at the VDC, he’s of two minds about it

First and most obvious, he’s excited for this new opportunity for the both of you

Determined to help you get famous (not just so you can help promo his businesses)

Encourages you strongly when you start getting offers from companies

He’s also just very proud of you for how far you’ve made it just by yourself (you refused his resources, much to his dismay)

He does love how hard you work and truly feels you’re one of the only people who match his drive

At the same time

You’re his partner, and it’s hard for him to watch all these people thirst after you, once you become famous lmao

He loves you and it’s a bit difficult to feel like he has to share you with the rest of the world

Lowkey a bit scared that one day you’ll meet another cool celebrity and decide they’re a better match for you than an octopus

He’ll be okay once you reassure him that you’re not going anywhere

Azul supports you every step of the way, still taking time out of his busy schedule to come see you at your shows or making dinner reservations at his own restaurants

Malleus

Lilia would always speak of you being a great singer but Malleus had never actually heard you sing until the VDC

Immediately fell more in love (if that was even possible)

Your voice and demeanour were so captivating, you were truly lovely in that moment (not that you weren’t always in his mind)

He knows you’ll get offers from companies, he’s so sure of your talent and absolutely wants you to get all the recognition you deserve

He’s happy when your music starts to become more and more famous because people are finally seeing you as wonderfully he does

You deserve to be admired, as long as no one gets too close

No matter how famous you are, you’re still his after all - though few rarely test their luck with you, your boyfriend is Malleus Draconia after all

You’re quick to tell them off, anyway

Being busy with Briar Valley, Malleus doesn’t always have time to come see you in concert

But he does when he can, and he’s sure to make his visit extra special

You definitely become a beloved celebrity of Briar Valley, with all the people loving you as the royal consort, but also because of your talent and music

#twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland

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leclerc-hs · 7 months

Text

after hours - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: based upon ‘After Hours’ by the Weeknd….kinda? Warnings: angst? bad writing lmao, some smut Word Count: 1,955 Author's Note: Feel free to send in requests. I know I'm not the best writer but I have fun doing it anyways lmao kk love u all!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IT WASN'T ALWAYS like this. This mess of a situation that had caused utter chaos and pain that now lays awake inside the both of you. You used to be happy.

“Without you I can’t sleep,”

In the midst of a restless night, you couldn’t help but toss and turn. You were thrashing around and the sheets were at complete disarray from your constant kicking and rolling around. The oppressive summer heat was merciless as it couldn’t help but creep in through your windows and into your apartment. You had stripped down into a mere spaghetti strapped tank top with the most diminutive semblance piece of underwear. One would question the classification of such a minuscule garment. Sleep, in these circumstances, appeared to be pointless.

You spent, what felt like hours, relentlessly scrolling on your phone in hopes you would eventually grow tiresome. And it was working at first. That is, until you saw the Instagram story of him. Him at the club with friends. While you lie here completely alone and restless.

The initial reaction to seeing this story was to roll your eyes. By the time 5 minutes had passed and you were still staring at it, you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach. It just doesn’t make sense. How is it that he can be out partying while you’re in bed incapable of sleep. Did he not care? Did he ever even love you?

You began to laugh at yourself. Of course, he didn’t love you. If he loved you, he wouldn’t have kissed another girl. He would’ve fought for you more.

“Girl, I felt so alone inside of this crowded room,”

The swarm of heat surrounded him. But not from the humid summer air like you. No, his form of insufferable heat was from the crowd of drunken bodies that filled the club. His friends had dragged him out. Told him he needed to ‘stop moping around’. Told him that he ‘needs time with his boys’ to cheer up.

The irony of this all weighed heavily upon him. A relentless reminder of the gaping void you have left behind. It was as if you had woven yourself into the very fabric of his consciousness. A presence that refused to be ignored.

It had only been a few weeks since he saw you last. But still, you would never leave his mind.

But who is he to complain? Who is he to even care about how he feels when its him who had destroyed one of the only good things in his life. It was all a mistake. One he would absolutely take back and delete its existence if he had that kind of power.

“I know I made you fall,”

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me,” Your voice trembled with each shout of a word that you let out. The very walls that surrounded you felt as if they were caving in. It was unbearable. The act of betrayal was too blatant to ignore.

Your boyfriend in tabloids kissing another woman. Kissing another woman. Kissing another woman. Publicly.

The words repeated in your head like a broken record.

“Mon amour,” he started. You cut him off almost instantly. You could not be silenced.

It was too quick. So quick, you couldn’t even process the rage that was igniting within you. One second, you held his phone in your hand. The next second, it was shattered all over the floor beside him. Smashed from impact of hitting the wall. A mirror of what your trust for him looked like.

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed. You ached. “I’m not your anything.”

His mouth opened ready to fight back. Ready to do anything for your forgiveness. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t handle it. He needed you.

“Not anymore,” you continued before grabbing your purse. “Don’t contact me. I can’t look at you.” You couldn’t even cry. Your eyes were red, puffy, and completely dry. Your body couldn’t even handle making more tears.

The worst part about this entire fight? Did you really want no contact, or did you just yearn for him to fight for you? The question loomed over you.

Honestly, it’s a fine line. Deciding if the no contact really is the best option or if all you wanted was for him to show more effort for you. To try harder. Would you forgive him? Would you move on?

“It was simply a blessing waking beside you,”

He couldn’t help but reminisce on all the mornings you spent together. Even at the club. He was shameless.

The morning sun slowly began peeking through the cream-colored curtains of your bedroom. It was one of your favorite times. The time where you’re on the cusp of being lucid but not completely there yet. This time full of raw love and passion.

His fingers slowly trailed up your ribcage and to your nipples before giving them a slight pinch. Goosebumps arose wherever his fingers trailed.

“Mon amour,” his hips started rolling slowly into you. Your nipple still pinched in between the rolling of his two fingers. “Give it to me” he said.

You were a moaning mess. “Please,” you were begging. Begging to reach that peak you oh so needed.

“Tell me what you need,” The pace of his hips increased. The sound of skin to skin slapping mixed with the sounds of both of your moans filled the room and only pushed you towards the edge more.

“Is it me, amour?” He started. “You always take me so well. So, fucking tight mon amour,” Charles was relentless now. His hips picked up pace urgently. He was feverishly reaching for that peak as well. He fucked himself into you so hard it was as if he was trying to burn the memory of you here with him for forever.

“What a fucking salope,” He edged you further. “My fucking salope.”

“Come on, mon amour. Make a fucking mess of me,” It was right then. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. Your own thighs squeezed tighter together as you pulsed around him. His orgasm following soon after.

Charles breathed heavily behind you and placed gentle kisses along the backside of your shoulder blade.

“You did so well, mon amour,” He pecked more kisses. “I never want to wake up without you.”

“Sorry that I broke your heart,”

It was well late into the night. In the dimly lit room, you found yourself wrapped in an emotional embrace. Hard knocks were heard on the front door of your apartment causing you to jump up in surprise.

“Mon amour,” you heard him speak first on the other side of the door. You immediately stopped in your tracks. Your throat felt constricted. Those two words burned in your memory. It was as if mon amour had become your name. You couldn’t even remember the last time Charles used your real name.

The tumultuous mixture of anger, betrayal, and love clawed at you. Making it difficult to discern your true feelings.

You hesitated. Whether you should open the door or not. His knocking became insistent. Loud. Each moment that passed his fist against the door went harder.

Out of respect for your neighbors, you let him in. At least that’s what you told yourself to feel better.

Charles was leaned against the door frame for support. He looked tired. A look of anger was in his eyes. He wasn’t in the right state of mind. He knew he had no right to be mad at you. But he was. He was being completely irrational as he marched his way over here.

“You are going to sit. You are going to listen to me,” He demanded as he pushed into your apartment. He gripped your wrist as he pulled you into the apartment and to the couch. You accept it anyways. Not because he deserved it, but because you need closure.

“The picture looks wrong,” he began. “I just need to explain this to you. Even if it doesn’t change anything.” He kneeled before you, in between your legs as he explained himself. His green eyes, a tad darker with a reddish tint lined around them, were staring solely into yours.

With a slight nod of your head, you let him continue.

“It’s all wrong. It’s not an excuse, but I did not kiss her back.” His words were sharp. As if he wanted to burn those words into your brain.

“Pictures say otherwise, Cha,” you felt like you were going to throw up. This conversation burned tears into your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back.

“She was a fan. She came up to me and grabbed me,” his hands slipped onto your knees and squeezed them tightly. “She grabbed me and kissed me.” His voice was cracking slightly as he let his head drop and rest on your legs.

You knew this information wouldn’t change much. It was still a kiss. One that shouldn’t have happened.

“Whether she kissed you or you kissed her. It doesn’t change. Don’t you see?” You moved your knee so he would lift his head up. “It’s not going to change anything.” You said. You weren't even positive if it wouldn't change anything. But it was all that could come to mind. “It shouldn’t have even happened.”

“Mon,”

You cut him off by standing up. “Would you stop calling me that!” You were shouting now. Walking from the confines of his presence. It was too much. He was too close. You couldn’t think properly.

“I can’t,” He arose from his knees and stood beside the coffee table. “I will do anything.” It was then. His voice finally cracked, and you could sense that tears have started falling from his eyes. He didn’t even bother to wipe them as he sat down on the couch. Exactly where you were last seated.

In a moment that could only be described as naïve or perhaps even foolish, the depth of your love for him exceeded all rationality. You couldn’t even stand to see him crying, even if he was the one who ignited these issues into your relationship. You still wanted to comfort him regardless. He didn’t deserve it and you knew that. But in this moment, you couldn’t even care if it made you weak. Because you wanted to feel his embrace too.

You trailed back across the room to sit beside him to wrap your arms around him. The two of you entangled on the couch seeking some form of comfort. He didn’t deserve it – the comfort. Most importantly, didn’t deserve you.

“I need you to leave,” you began. His arms wrapped tighter around you. He didn’t want to let go. It was as if his grip onto you as if he was physically holding onto what remained of your tattering connection. “Please.” You were begging as your head rested in the crook of his neck.

You only felt him shake more. Undoubtedly, crying. But he understood.

“I just need space,” your voice was a fragile whisper. “I still love you. I miss you. I wish this never happened to us.” His lips pressed to any inch of skin that was within proximity. You felt his hot tears slip onto your skin with each kiss he pressed.

The plea for space, while still expressing love and longing, demonstrates the need for personal boundaries and self-care.

“I will keep fighting for you,” He pulled away before standing up from the couch. “I will do anything. I promise you that. You are the love of my life.”

It wasn’t until then, that you felt your tears spill out of your eyes. With a small nod of your head, he walked out of the apartment with his heart still latched onto you. Yours with his. It was a tapestry of emotions left in wake.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic

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vinaxxo · 1 month

Note

Can you write to Leander and Ais, who are basically competing and fighting for MC/Reader?? (i'm obsessed with these two men)

Im obsessed w them too bookie 🤤🤤 love this idea, hope i did it some justice, may expand on it later <33

~ PICK ME, CHOOSE ME, LOVE ME (LMAO)

Being new to Eridia, the doctor who brought you back from the dead, Kuras, recommended that you see a man named Leander for help.

Leander fully welcomed you into his territory, even offering you magical flowers to greet you. Though you didn’t trust him much yet, his noble and kind demeanor was a charm you couldn’t resist.

Leander knew this, and whenever you came around, he turned up his charm to the max. He was greedy for your attention and determined to make you dependent on him for everything— the physical and emotional.

That being said, he loved shoving the fact that he was able to touch you in everyone’s faces, especially Ais’. Ais never showed his disdain for it, but if you looked at him hard enough, you’d notice his easy smile twitch.

When you’re away from the mage, the demon tells you that you shouldn’t trust so blindly. That the mage isn’t what he seems. It was hard for you to believe that Leander was a complete monster behind those captivating emerald eyes… or maybe you just refused to believe it.

“Sparrow, why don’t you crash here for the night? Princess misses you.”

And no, Ais doesn’t have a problem using Princess to keep you around him, even if just for a second longer.

Ais was an intriguing individual to you, not one to say much but say everything at the same time.

Whenever Ais came to the bar— on invitation by Leander at that, he always sat next to you. If someone was occupying said seat, he’d only have to look down at the person for less than a second to get them to move.

He enjoyed the banter, about whose drink was better, who had the better bad jokes. Ais only realized that he truly needed you when he observed your features and magnetic demeanor over the rim of his glass.

Leander’s laughter died down as he watched both you and Ais grin at each other, feeling the glass in his own hand begin to crack. He mended it with faded green swirls, as if he never lost his composure in the first place. The hound Leander was talking with had left him be, knowing better than to pry.

As you ordered another round of drinks, the mage and demon exchanged looks, both borderline murderous before returning to their own business.

Ais chuckled at the start of a new kind of rivalry before downing his shot, and wouldn’t answer you when you asked what was so funny. Competing for your love against Leander may be the most fun he’s had in years.

#v.answerz💋#ais touchstarved #leander touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved leander #touchstarved ais #leander x mc #leander x reader #ais x reader

166 notes · View notes

riordanness · 6 months

Text

bad blood - [h.haddock]

8.2K wordcount

warnings: death mention, panic attack mentions

requested: no

a/n: i usually don’t do author’s notes on my fics bc i don’t think i have really anything to say lmao. however. i wanted to say a quick word about this one, as it’s a kind of old piece but one i was extremely proud of and worked really hard to complete. i loved the humorous parts i wrote, loved the character arc i gave y/n, and just in general really liked how my writing turned out. also, it’s the second longest one-shot (currently) i’ve ever written! anyways, enjoy my lovelies <3

I disliked Hiccup Haddock more than anything else in the entire world. I didn’t like him at all for a very long time, but… well, here is our story.

“Hey love.” A voice appeared next to my shoulder, and I rolled my eyes.

“Go away, Hiccup,” I demanded, refusing to look at him. I was carving a spear out of a wooden stick, so I kept my focus on my knife running back and forth along the wood.

Even without looking at him, I could tell he had a smirk on his face. “Oh love,” he whined. “I want to talk to you.”

He tugged on one of my small braids that ran down the sides of my hair. I whacked his hand away, still not looking at him. “I said go away,” I said again.

He laughed. “I know.”

“So leave me alone.”

A moment’s pause. “But why?”

“Because I hate you and don’t want you around, annoying me to death. I’m busy.”

“But you’re fun to annoy.”

I turned on him, fiercely glaring up at him. The worst thing about Hiccup was how tall he was compared to me. He wasn’t even that tall, I was just super short. Hiccup was a full head higher than me.

Hiccup had a smirk playing around his mouth. “Hey shortcake.”

I hit him. “Shut up, Hiccup.”

“Aww, c’mon sweetheart. I’m bored.”

“That’s nice.” I crossed my arms protectively. Not that Hiccup would ever actually hurt me. Honestly, if it came down to me being in danger, I was pretty sure he’d defend me. I’d known him longer than anybody else I knew.

I might hate him, but it was the truth. Hiccup was an asshole, but I knew deep down he didn’t absolutely hate me. I guess I didn’t hate him, either. He was just a total pain.

“Go ride Toothless or make a friend or do something. Just leave me alone. I don’t care to see you.”

Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his ruffled brown hair. His green eyes flickered with amusement. “Okay, love. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He winked. “Sorry love.”

I resisted the childish urge to stamp my foot. “Hiccup!”

He held up his hands. “Okay… okay.” I almost thought he might actually be genuine, until he smirked. “I’ll stop calling you love… darling.”

I knew there was no shutting him up. I turned on my heel without a word, and stamped angrily into my cabin, slamming the door behind me.

Three seconds passed, then there was a knock on the door. I opened it. “Hiccup, go away!”

Hiccup stood there, grinning mischievously. “Fine, fine. Bye, you.”

I rolled my eyes and shut the door. I’d only just turned around when another knock sounded. I gritted my teeth. “Stupid little —“

I opened the door again and stopped short. “Oh! Stoick. Um, hi.” I swallowed. “Sorry, I, uh, I thought you were Hiccup.”

Stoick looked amused. “That’s alright, y/n.”

“Um, would you like to come in?” I offered.

Stoick nodded, and stepped inside. I suddenly felt very conscious of how messy the place was. I didn’t spend much time here, preferring to roam outside or stay at Astrid, my best friend’s house.

“How are you faring up?” Stoick asked.

I shrugged. “I’m okay. Still getting used to the fact that they’re gone, but, you know. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Stoick nodded. “If you ever need anything, feel free to let me or Hiccup know.”

I groaned internally. “Yeah, like I’d ever ask him for help,” I muttered.

I hadn’t intended for him to hear, but Stoick chuckled softly. “He doesn’t hate you, you know.”

“Sure,” I said. “Because he thinks I’m fun to annoy.”

“That’s not it.”

I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “O…kay…” I said slowly. “Um. Great. Well, it’s getting late, so if you don’t mind, uh…”

“Oh! Sure, sure,” Stoick said. “Have a good night, y/n.”

A long time after he left, I stood in my empty, cold house, staring at the door, wishing for something to come and fill the hole that was forming inside of me.

“Y/n, did you hear?”

I turned to my best friend. “Um. No. What happened?”

Astrid brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Stoick just told Hiccup he’s going to become chief soon.”

“Cool.” I returned to making the leather straps I’d been softening for my future dragon’s saddle.

See, the thing is, I don’t have a dragon. I know, that’s so weird, everyone in Berk has one, but I’m, well… a dragon killed my parents a few years ago. I’ve never liked them anyways, but after that, I’ve struggled a lot with my feelings about dragons. I’m sure one day I will overcome this fear inside me and own a dragon, but right now? No way.

“That’s all?” Astrid looked offended. “Y/n, that’s so much cooler than cool.” She suddenly laughed. “You know what this means?”

I frowned a little. “No..?”

“Hiccup has to choose a bride.”

I blinked. “Really? Um, so?”

Astrid rolled her eyes, elbowing me as she sat beside me on the ground. “You know you’re in love with him, y/n/n.”

I pretended to gag. “Ugh, as if! Astrid, you know I hate him. I don’t care at all about him in any way, especially not in a romantic way. I don’t care a single little bit if he has to choose a bride.”

“Sure.” Astrid smirked. “You’re secretly hoping he’ll choose you, aren’t you?”

I shot her a glare that warned her to shut up. “He’ll choose you and you know it,” I said.

Astrid wrinkled her nose. “I doubt it,” she said. “Hiccup and I literally never talk. Besides, everybody knows that me and Stormfly are a forever couple.”

I shook my head at her, but I had to smile. “Well, he won’t choose me, and I don’t care about it anyway.”

Astrid looked like she wanted to argue, but she shut her mouth when she noticed someone walking over to us. When I saw who it was, I sighed.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Gee, you’re lovely today, darling,” Hiccup teased, plopping himself down next to us.

“Excuse me,” I pointed out. “We didn’t invite you to sit with us.”

Astrid glanced at me, a smirk playing around her mouth. Her eyes were twinkling. I glared at her. I hate you, I mouthed.

I swung one leg over the log so my back was to Hiccup. “So, Astrid,” I said, a little too loudly. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

“I’m taking Stormfly out for a ride,” Astrid replied. “You’re welcome to join —“

“No,” I said instantly. “Uh, I mean. No thank you. I’m good.” My hands trembled ever so slightly. I coughed, swallowed, and picked up my leather strap, gripping it tightly to stop the shaking.

Hiccup poked his head over my shoulder. “You know—“

I elbowed him in the ribs so hard he tumbled off the log. “Whoa!” he yelped. “Jeez, y/n!”

“Sorry,” I apologised. “I- you startled me.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “No I didn’t. You just like hitting people.”

My mouth tightened. “No I don’t. And stop calling me a liar!”

“When did I call you a liar?” He got to his feet, one arm cradling his ribcage. “You’re violent for literally no reason.”

I glared at him. “You just said I was lying. And I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

Hiccup winced. “Uh- yeah you actually did. I think you broke a rib or something.”

I slammed my work to the ground, getting to my feet and facing the boy. “Stop avoiding the fact that you called me a liar! I never ever ever make up anything.”

My eyes glittered with unwanted tears. Involuntary memories sprang into my mind. My parents hugging me. My father’s voice in my hair, my younger voice begging them to promise to return soon. “Of course we will return, darling,” my father said. “We’ve never lied to you, have we now?”

I blinked, forcing the tears away. I hated crying in any situation, but I wouldn’t be able to stand crying in front of Hiccup. I’d never live it down.

“Whatever.” Hiccup glanced at me. His voice suddenly changed. “Want to see something amazing?”

“Yeah,” I grumbled. “The retreating back of your head would be great, thanks.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I!” I turned away from him, and only then did I realise Astrid was nowhere to be seen. She must’ve snuck away while Hiccup and I were arguing.

Hiccup’s hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. “C’mon,” he pleaded, and his voice sounded genuinely kind. “It’ll be fun.”

I rolled my eyes. “If I come with you, do you promise to leave me alone after?”

Hiccup nodded.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Where are we going?”

He grinned mischievously. “You’ll see.”

Hiccup turned, and I had no choice but to follow; partly because I was curious, and partly because I wanted him to leave me alone, and this was the only way to guarantee that.

We entered the woods that surrounded the village, and I began to get suspicious. “Hiccup?” I asked. “Where exactly are we going?”

He didn’t answer for almost a minute. “You’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes. “First, that’s not a proper answer. Two, don’t you think that you should tell me before you drag me off somewhere?”

He laughed. “C’mon. Don’t you ever do anything adventurous or risky?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I talk to you.”

“Hey!” He shot me a playful glare.

I managed a smirk. “No, but seriously. Where are you taking me?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Okay. Just stay here a moment. I’ll be right back.”

I frowned, and opened my mouth to complain, but before I could say anything, Hiccup had disappeared into the trees. I had no choice but to wait where I was.

Only a few minutes later, I heard a rush of wind, and a midnight-black dragon landed in front of me. Hiccup sat astride Toothless, one hand in the air.

I yelped, taking a few quick steps backward. “I- shoot, Hiccup. Why are you…” My voice died as Toothless stared at me. A shiver ran down my spine, making me feel sick to my stomach.

“Y/n, it’s fine,” Hiccup assured. “He won’t hurt you. Will ya, bud?”

I shook my head, my throat tightening. “I- no. I can’t do this, Hiccup.” I took another step back, my entire body beginning to shake. This. This what had killed my parents. Dragons couldn’t be trusted. No matter how much Hiccup had tried to convince the village, I would never trust anyone, or anything, ever again.

Hiccup frowned. “Fine.” He leaned down and patted Toothless on the neck. “C’mon, bud. Let’s go.”

Without another word, Toothless spread his wings and they soared into the air.

I stood stock still for a whole minute before I realised I was holding my breath. I let it out all in a rush, and staggered a little. I reached out to hold onto a tree truck for support. My legs felt wobbly and unstable.

I decided it was best if I headed back for the village. I didn’t want to hang around in the woods today anymore. I had a sour taste in my mouth, and I needed some water.

I was twenty meters away from my cabin door when suddenly the ground beneath me was swept away. The village got smaller and smaller, and then I realised what was happening.

“Hiccup Haddock!” I shrieked. Toothless was holding onto my forearms, and I was suspended in the air.

“Yes, m’lady?”

“I am going to kill you!” I yelled up at him, panic temporarily pushing aside my utter agony at being defenceless against a dragon.

“Toothless, put her down,” Hiccup commanded.

Toothless flew around a huge pine tree that was significantly taller than most of the forest, and promptly dropped me onto its highest branches.

I clung to the tree truck, shaking. Tears clogged up my throat, and my legs were so trembly I thought I was going to fall and die.

“Y/n.”

At the sound of Hiccup’s voice, I slowly turned to face him. He looked almost sorry, but I knew that was impossible. The little wretch was trying to make me terrified, for what reason I could only guess. This was his biggest prank yet.

“Hiccup,” I said, trying to keep my voice level (and failing), “you will get me down from here, now.” I gripped the tree tighter. “You will take me home this instant, and you will never ever talk to me again. Do you understand?”

He blinked. “But—“

“Do you understand?!” I yelled.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Here.” He held out his hand.

I stared at it for a second, then gingerly reached out and rested my fingertips on his palm. A tingle ran up the length of my arm. He gripped my wrist, and pulled me up onto the dragon behind him.

Every part of my body that was in contact with the dragon’s felt heated up, like I could burst into flames at any moment. My head pounded in sync with my heartbeat, and my palms were getting sweaty. I was, in short, absolutely terrified.

“… let her down slowly.”

I realised Hiccup was talking. “You got that, bud?”

Toothless made an exasperated grunt, sounding more like a sarcastic teenager than a dragon. That didn’t make me feel any better.

Toothless slowly spread his wings, and for a second, I almost relaxed. Maybe he would fly down gently like Hiccup had asked.

The next second, my illusion shattered. Toothless took off so fast I almost toppled off. I was forced to grab onto the nearest thing to stay onboard (on-dragon?). Unfortunately, that thing happened to be Hiccup.

Whatever. I’d rather not die today. I gripped his shoulders so tightly my knuckles turned white. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, as if not seeing would make it better for me.

The wind whipped in my ears, blowing my dark hair all around my face. I was so scared, so worried, so distraught I felt like crying. I couldn’t, though. I wasn’t dumb enough to cry in front of Hiccup. He would never let me hear the end of it.

Suddenly, I felt the dragon beneath me twisting sideways. We started spinning, twirling in tight circles. My grip tightened on Hiccup’s shoulders.

Someone was screaming, and I was like eighty-five percent sure it was me.

“Toothless!” Hiccup yelled. “Stop this right now! You’re scaring her!”

Toothless took that as a challenge, and dove toward the ocean a hundred feet below. He showed absolutely no signs of slowing or stopping in any way. I opened my eyes, wanting to at least be able to see something in case I died because of this.

“Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile,” Hiccup muttered. I slowly began to realise that maybe Hiccup wasn’t the one at fault here. Of course. It was the dragon’s fault. Dragons weren’t to be trusted, which was exactly what I’d been thinking this whole time.

Just as we were about to hit the water, Toothless opened up his wings. We shot upward, soaring towards the sugar-spun clouds above us.

We levelled out, and my muscles lost some of their tension. Toothless floated in the air, almost flying gently now. I remembered how to breathe, and let out a long, breathless sigh.

“Hiccup,” I managed, my voice hoarse. “I am going to murder you.”

I melted into him, partly in relief that I wasn’t dead, partly in exhausted terror. My arms went around his waist, my forehead falling to rest on his back. My eyes fluttered shut, and a lone tear streaked down my cheek.

Hiccup didn’t say anything for a long while, and so neither did I. Toothless flew long and slow and level, giving me the slightest chance of not murdering him, too.

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that. All I remember is Hiccup’s voice saying softly, “Sweet dreams, love,” before I fell into the welcome arms of sleep.

I woke slowly, curled in a ball inside a warm, soft bed that didn’t feel like mine. When I finally opened my eyes, I realised why it didn’t feel familiar. I wasn’t even in my house.

I sat up, looking around, trying to work out where I was. With a start, I couldn’t even think of a time I’d been inside any other houses in the village except for Astrid’s. I had no idea whose house this was.

“Morning, m’lady,” said a deep voice from the top of the stairs.

I groaned internally. “Oh, gosh, of course it’s you.” I found myself pulling my fingers through my hair, brushing it as nearly as I could, straightening my shirt, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I dragged myself out of the bed. I was still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, my usual top and skirt combo, with leggings underneath for warmth. My boots were lying on the floor, so I yanked them on.

I glanced up at Hiccup, who was hanging over the banisters, watching me. With a jolt, all the memories of yesterday flooded in.

Red-hot anger filled me. I clenched my fists. “Are you gonna come down here, or should I just murder you up there?”

Hiccup’s eyes widened. “I- what?”

“You heard me,” I muttered. My knife was missing from my belt, which was just great. I’d probably lost in on that horrific flight yesterday.

I stomped up the stairs, stopping on the one below the one Hiccup was standing on. He leaned against the banister, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Hey shortcake,” he whispered teasingly. “Sleep well?”

I gritted my teeth. “You are so beyond dead right now, Hiccup.”

He chuckled. “Hey. Blame Toothless, alright? There was nothing I could do!”

I wanted to roll my eyes. “Um, okay. And he’s your dragon.”

“That doesn’t mean I can control him!”

I didn’t answer, my gaze sliding away from Hiccup. I sighed, laid my palm on the cold wood banister. “I don’t ever want you to talk to me again, okay? I don’t want to see you; I don’t want to hear you. I don’t even want to know you exist.”

I felt a glistening tear streak its way down my cheek, dripping off the bottom of my chin. “Just—“ My voice broke. “Just leave me alone.”

I turned, and ran out of the house, leaving his door wide open. I headed for the only place I could think of; the woods.

I didn’t stop running until I was deep in the forest, surrounded by unfamiliar trees. I dropped to my knees in the dirt, buried my face in my hands and cried.

Hours later, I slowly rose to my feet. It was growing steadily dark, and the cold was seeping into my bone. I shivered, and wrapped my arms around myself as I walked around in a small circle.

I realised, horrified, that I was completely lost. I had no idea whatsoever where I was, which direction the village was, or what time of day it even was right now.

I eventually sat down on a rock, pulling my knees up to my chest. The darkness was growing. Soon, I didn’t think I would be able to see a thing. I began to get worried.

Who knew what things might be hiding in the shadows? My hand instinctively went to my belt, my my knife was gone. I cursed under my breath, and stood, pressing my back against a tree. I figured it would be safer than sitting on an exposed rock.

I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, my eyes turning towards the sky, hoping, for some insane reason, that someone might be out there looking for me.

Who was I kidding? Who was there that even cared about me that much? I didn’t have parents who were waiting back at home, wondering how late I was going to stay out. I didn’t have siblings who would notice my absence.

Astrid wouldn’t notice this late at night. I tended to wander during the day; she was used to that, but at night it wouldn’t even occur to her that I was anywhere but home.

Hiccup briefly crossed my mind, but I truly did not think he cared about me that much. I didn’t even want him to. I was still so mad at Hiccup, thinking about him made it hard to breathe. I hated him.

“I hate Hiccup Haddock,” I whispered under my breath, trying to make myself feel better. My breath made a wisp of steam in the cold air. I watched it as it floated into nothingness.

My vision suddenly blurred, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of exhaustion or tears. I slumped down to the ground, my legs giving way. I drew my knees close to my chest, hugging them to me. My chin rested on my knees, gazing out at the woods, though I could barely make out anything anymore. I couldn’t even see my own hand clearly, let alone anything else.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but eventually, I slipped into a deep sleep, half-frozen, chilled to the bone, alone and crying in the darkness.

“Y/n! Y/n? Y/n/n?!”

My eyes fluttered open. I groaned in pain. I felt someone’s arms encircling me, carrying me, but I couldn’t make out anything. Everything was blurred, hazy. The person carrying me was talking, but it sounded far away and watery.

I slumped against the person’s shoulder, closing my eyes. I was tired: so, so tired. Everything ached; my head pounded and throbbed.

I don’t think I feel back asleep, but I wasn’t really aware of anything for a long while. Finally, the person slowed to a walk, and laid me down on a couch or a bed or something. A cup was held to my lips, and I gratefully accepted the water.

I blinked several times, and my eyes focused on a very familiar looking boy, who’s green eyes were staring down at me, full of concern.

“Hiccup?” I asked weakly. “What are you…?”

“I found you in the middle of the woods,” Hiccup replied, his eyes darkening slightly. “Are you okay? Do you need anything else? More water? Are-are you warm enough?”

I laid my head back, rubbing my thumb against my throbbing temple. I let out a long sigh, whether it was of annoyance or exhaustion or pain, I wasn’t sure.

“I hate you so much,” I muttered.

“Gee, thanks,” Hiccup answered. He held the back of his hand against my forehead, testing my temperature. “You don’t seem to be too sick. I think you’re going to be okay,” he said, almost to himself.

“I’m not sick at all,” I said firmly. “I don’t even know why you’re taking care of me. I don’t need you. You—“ My voice suddenly broke with emotion. “You did this to me.”

Hiccup’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Look, Y/n/n—“

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

He blinked. “Y/n. I-I am so sorry for what happened yesterday. I, well, I thought it might make it better if you saw that dragons aren’t always vicious. Um…” He glanced down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Toothless didn’t really get the memo.”

He looked at me. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. And I hope that maybe someday you can find it in you to forgive me.” He stood, brushed off his pants, and left, closing the door gently behind him.

I lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but Hiccup had brought me home. I was in my bed, in my house. I could hear small noises from downstairs, which meant that Hiccup was still here. I wasn’t sure what he was doing down there, but I didn’t really care.

What I cared about right now was what he’d said. And what it had made happen inside of me. Was I really as mad at him as I thought I was? After all, he’d gone out and found me, brought me home, taken care of me. Maybe he’d been trying to be nice, and it really was Toothless who had been doing all those things to me. (Which just proved all my theories that dragons weren’t to be trusted).

I thought again of Hiccup’s eyes staring down at me, his sad voice asking me for forgiveness. The worry in his expression when he asked if I was okay. I hated how much I’d liked that. I hadn’t ever been in love, or even had a crush on anyone. I wasn’t sure if this even was a crush, but if it was, I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like the swirling in my stomach when I heard Hiccup’s voice. I hated how much I suddenly wanted him near me. I disliked how I kind of trusted him. I didn’t want to be in love. I didn’t want to have somebody I believed in again.

Last time I’d loved someone, trusted someone, all they’d done was break my heart and leave me forever. My parents. I wondered if part of my hatred inside was because I’d never truly forgiven them for leaving. For dying and not coming back for me like they’d sworn they would. I blinked back tears, brushing my cheeks with the back of my hand.

I swung my legs out of the bed, standing. I swayed a bit at first, but I forced myself to be steady. I yanked on my boots and slowly pushed open my bedroom door. I stepped out onto the landing, peeping over the edge of the banisters.

Hiccup was down in the kitchen. I was shocked at how much cleaner everything looked. I barely ever tidied up. Not that things got particularly dirty, as I spent little time here, but dust had certainly stocked up over the years. Hiccup had scrubbed away the five years of dirt from my home, and it was sparkling.

Something smelled good, too. It hit me like a brick wall that the fire was going, and Hiccup was cooking something over it. It looked like soup or something similar. I hadn’t had a home cooked meal for ages. I hated cooking, so I just lived on things I grew in the garden, or tidbits from friends.

I shifted slightly, and a floorboard underneath me creaked. Hiccup glanced up, and when he saw me, a slight smile flickered across his face. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I said back, not sure what else to say. I mean, I’d just yelled at him, and made it pretty clear I didn’t ever want to talk to him again. What do you say to someone who’s just cleaned your entire house and taken care of you after you told them that? “What are you making?”

Hiccup glanced down at the pot he was stirring, then back up at me. “Chicken and potato soup. Want some?”

I hesitated, but nodded, with a small shrug. “Why not.” I slowly walked down the stairs, my eyes on Hiccup the whole time. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from him.

He noticed me staring and smiled nervously. “What? Am I in trouble?”

I found myself slowly shaking my head. “No, I don’t think so.” I allowed myself a small, watery smile. “At least not yet.”

Hiccup grinned. “Good. Now sit down and eat.”

I obeyed, setting myself down at the old dining table. I wiped my palm on the wood, expecting it to be coated it dirt, but it shone with new cleanliness. My eyes suddenly filled with tears.

“Hiccup…” was all I could manage.

Immediately, Hiccup knelt in front of me. “What’s wrong?” he asked, almost urgently, staring up into my eyes. “Are you alright?”

I swallowed. “You-you cleaned the house… you’re cooking… I- you…” I let out a broken sob.

For so long, so one had cared. Astrid cared the most, but she was busy with Stormfly and her new baby brother and life in general. She’d offered a few times to have me stay with her and her family, but I’d known that would be far too hard for them. I’d always politely told her I was just fine on my own, thank you. But I wasn’t. I knew that. I needed someone to care so badly that now that someone did, someone cared, it almost hurt.

“Hey, hey,” Hiccup said softly, grabbing me by the shoulders. I realised I was shaking.

“It’s alright,” he assured me. “Come here.” He brought me into a hug, which at first both startled and scared me, but then I melted into it. The hug felt unfamiliar, different, awkward. But nice, somehow.

But this was Hiccup. I untangled myself from him. “Uh,” I stammered, tucking my hair behind my ear, eyes flitting away. “Thanks.”

Hiccup shrugged. “It’s fine.” He stood slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yes. I mean, no. I-I guess? I’m not sure…” I stared up at him. “Hiccup, why are you doing this?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean?” He gestured around. “You needed help. You need help. I am the son of the chief; soon to be the chief myself. It’s my job to help the village.”

Something inside me wilted a little. So this was just part of the job to him? The rest of me internally yelled at that bit to shut up, and that we hated Hiccup, so it doesn’t matter what he does. But why did I hate Hiccup?

Thinking back on it now, I really didn’t think he had ever done anything truly bad towards me. Yeah, sure, he’d been a total tease, but I was a rude, bitter, secluded brat to be honest. I didn’t deserve any help from him.

I blinked back unwanted tears. “Um, well, I really appreciate it,” I said. “It was really nice of you to come looking for me.”

Hiccup studied my face for a moment, then pursed his lips and nodded once. “It’s okay, Y/n/n.”

Something inside me jolted. No one had called me that in years before today, when Hiccup had started to. It was the nickname my father had given me. Hearing Hiccup use it had just opened up a deep wound inside me I hadn’t even remembered.

“Please don’t call me that,” I whispered, staring at the floorboards. My feet hung limply in the air just above the floor.

Hiccup glanced over at me from where he was standing, stirring the soup. “Um, okay. Sorry, Y/n.” He stressed my name, saying it slightly slower than the rest of his words.

There was so much tension in the air, and I realised it was all my fault. I made the room awkward and made Hiccup have to watch everything he said. I was a terrible person.

I’d even told Hiccup never to talk to me again, right after I’d woken up in his house. It hit me that he must’ve taken me there after the awful flight on Toothless. Then, I’d screamed in his face that I hated him, and gotten myself lost in the woods because I was selfish and prideful and full of hate.

Even then, Hiccup had gone out and found me. Who knew how long that had taken him? He’d brought me back here, cleaned my house, made me food, and for what? For me to be snappy, harsh, and rude.

I ran my tongue over my lower lip, staring resolutely at the floor. “Hiccup?” I managed finally.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?” I looked at him, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “Be honest.”

Hiccup hesitated, stirring the wooden spoon listlessly around the soup. “What do you mean?” he said finally.

I sighed, sitting up straight and brushing off my skirts. “You know… helping me.” I have a little laugh. “Heavens knows you don’t need to. So why are you really doing all this?”

Hiccup chewed his lip. “Because I’m going to be the Chief of Berk pretty soon. I need to be able to protect my people.” His gaze fixed on mine. “Even when they don’t like me, or want me to.”

Under his fierce eyes, my insides crinkled. I felt exposed, as if I was being examined under a bright light. I dropped my gaze.

“I’m sorry…” I managed, the words sounding funny in my mouth. I hadn’t apologised to Hiccup, for anything, ever.

“It’s okay.” His voice sounded surprisingly even, like he wasn’t even bothered about all this. So it was just me feeling all these things, was it? He was truly just doing this out of a sense of duty. And honestly, why shouldn’t he? I’d already told myself I was a rude little brat, to be totally honest. I didn’t deserve to have people look after me, at all.

I didn’t meet Hiccup’s eyes. “Um, that’s cool. But thank you, really.”

Hiccup nodded, and handed me a steaming mug of hot soup. “Eat up,” he said. “I’ll leave you the rest… have a good night, Y/n.”

And with that, he disappeared. The house felt suddenly very small and lonely, and I shrunk into myself, staring into the fire, sipping tiny bits of soup until I was all warmed up inside.

I gazed around the cabin. It looked so different, all shining and clean. It made me feel like maybe I might be able to move on; get over them leaving me. I shook my head. That would never happen. I didn’t think I was capable of letting it go, of moving forward with my life. I was seventeen years old, and I still held a grudge against my parents for ‘abandoning�� me when I was twelve.

Thoughts whirled through my brain, at an almost dizzying rate. I left my mug on the table, and went to stand by the open window, facing out into the main road of Berk.

A few children were playing in it, kicking a round wooden ball to each other. I watched them for a minute or two, before an absurd idea struck me. I pushed open the front door. “Hey!” I yelled.

The kids turned to look at me, momentarily forgetting their game. “Can I join you guys?” I asked, feeling brave.

The oldest girl looked confused for a moment, then after a brief pause, gave me a smile and a nod. “Sure!” she called.

I grinned, and shut my door behind me, jogging over to them. Playing ball was something I hadn’t done in years, but it felt good to just relax for a while. Plus, it was amazing to see others doing an activity that didn’t revolve around dragons, so I could join in.

Dragons. I shuddered a little, remembering the awful ride on Toothless, and making my feelings around Hiccup even more complicated.

After a good long play, I collapsed to the ground in a heap, blowing up my breath. “Gosh,” I managed. “I can see why kids like playing ball. It’s fun.” I offered the girl who’d let me come play with them a small smile.

“You’re Y/n, aren’t you?” the girl asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

I hesitated. How did they know who I was? I never really talked to anyone except Astrid, Hiccup and a few other people. Certainly not the children.

“Yeah, I am,” I said slowly. “How do you know my name?”

The little girl allowed herself a smug smile. “Hiccup told us about you.” Turning, she threw the ball to one of her friends.

I was dumbfounded. “Hiccup?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. He told us you guys used to be friends but now you’re mean to him and won’t let him be nice to you anymore. He said he misses being your friend.”

I wrinkled my nose, staring at her. “Hiccup said he misses me?” I scoffed finally. “There’s no way. You must have heard him wrong. Hiccup hurt me incredibly badly when we were six years old, and ever since then he’s teased and bothered me almost to death. I will never be his friend again.”

I stood, suddenly angry all over again. Angry about how hurt I was, how much I hated Hiccup and my parents for hurting me. I clenched my teeth. “Thank you for letting me join you. Bye.”

I turned and began the walk uphill to Astrid’s house. Right now, I really needed to see my best friend.

When Astrid opened the door, she immediately noticed something was wrong. She frowned. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head. “Everything is so hopeless, A.”

Astrid made a sympathetic face and pulled me into a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” she whispered into my shoulder. “Come on, come inside. It’s freezing.”

Maybe it was. I felt so numb I didn’t think I would’ve noticed even if it was cold enough to give me frostbite. I felt like my insides were frozen, unable to feel anything at all.

Astrid pulled me inside, sitting me down on a chair beside the roaring fire. She knelt down in front of me. “What happened?” she asked, staring into my face.

I shook my head, looking away from her. “I… I don’t even know…” I began to cry, dropping my head in my hands.

Astrid pursed her lips, hugging me again. “Is it your parents? Hiccup? Tell me.”

I took a deep breath, and slowly began to tell her the entire story, beginning yesterday, when Hiccup took me into the woods and the whole, horrible ride on Toothless began. I kept my eyes steadily fixed on the fire as I spoke, quietly recounting the flight, the fight, being lost in the woods and then Hiccup rescuing me and cleaning my house. I even told her about the awkward hug.

The only thing I couldn’t manage to admit to Astrid was how I felt about Hiccup. I couldn’t decide if I hated his guts, or if I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again.

When I was finished, Astrid let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, babe,” she said. “But if you ask me… Hiccup wasn’t at fault for what Toothless was doing during that flight. I think he might be telling you the truth; that he just wanted you to see that dragons aren’t dangerous.”

I nodded slowly. I was beginning to believe that. Of course, that just made me hate dragons even more, but there was no point saying that aloud. Astrid knew I hated dragons even more than I hated Hiccup. I would never, ever trust a dragon.

Astrid studied me. “Do you want to know what else I think?”

I glanced at her. “By the look on your face, no. But I guess you’re going to tell me anyway, so… sure.”

Astrid suppressed a smile. “You know me too well,” she said. “But, what I think is, you don’t hate Hiccup at all. You’re just angry. At your parents mostly. But Hiccup hurt you too, years ago. You’re alone now, so you’re taking out your anger on the only person you have any sort of justification to do so to.”

I was silent. Sadly, her words rang hard and true. I could finally see that, yes, my hatred of Hiccup was really just anger at myself, and my parents. It had honestly nothing to do with Hiccup himself. He’d just been unfortunate enough to annoy me all those years ago, so now I’d decided to hate him because of it.

I shook my head in disbelief. “I’ve been so stupid,” I muttered.

“Not stupid,” Astrid said. “Kinda crazy, maybe, but not stupid.”

I looked at her. “I think… I think I should go and apologize to someone.”

She smiled. “Go.”

I jumped to my feet and ran, leaving her front door swinging open in the wind.

I didn’t stop running until I reached Hiccup’s house. I burst inside without thinking about knocking, but stopped short on the threshold.

“Stoick!” I gaped, trying to find the right words. “I, I am so sorry—“

“Y/n,” Stoick replied, getting to his feet. “What brings you here in such a hurry?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you alright?”

I nodded breathlessly. “What? Yes. Yes, I’m fine, thanks, I just —“

“Were you looking for Hiccup?”

I pursed my lips. “I might’ve been.”

Stoick chuckled. “You’ve got spirit, lass. I like that about you.”

I blinked. “Um, thank you?”

“He’s at the beach.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Chief.”

The path that ran towards the beach was thin and steep, covered in loose rocks that skidded under my shoes. More than once I almost fell off the cliff side.

When I reached the beach, I was surprised at how small it seemed. Then again, I hadn’t been here since I was little. I guess my memories of it had faded. With a start, I realised that the last time I had been here was probably with Hiccup himself, back when we were small and best friends.

I spotted Hiccup’s figure walking through the surf a few hundred meters away. I started toward him, slowly in case I scared him with a sudden approach.

The beach itself was small and rocky, round black stones instead of proper sand. The waves here were little and inconsistent, barely making a splash. Sometimes in the summer, we would have a day or two of good weather, and the waves would be bigger, but that was a pretty rare occurrence.

I reached Hiccup, who was now standing with his hands buried in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“What do you see?” I whispered.

“Freedom,” he replied softly, turning to look at me. “When I’m riding Toothless, nothing is impossible. Me, a human, can fly on the back of a dragon. There is something magical about that, Y/n.”

I chewed my lip, considering his words. I guess there was something amazing about that fact, but still… dragons.

“Um,” I said. “I came here to apologise.”

Hiccup’s green eyes turned a darker shade. “For what?”

I dug the side of my shoe in the sand, my eyes sliding away from his. “For… everything.”

He waited, his eyes roaming my face.

I swallowed. “For not being your friend when I should have been. For hating you and your love for dragons. For being a terrible person. For hitting you and hating you and making your life miserable.” During this little speech, my voice had gotten higher and louder. Now it broke, and I felt tears brimming to my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup,” I cried.

Hiccup didn’t say anything. He stared at me for a count of five, while tears began to stream down my cheeks. What was wrong with me this week? For years, I’d barely cried at all, hiding my emotions inside. Now I was crying, again.

Hiccup did something I didn’t expect. He grabbed my face between his hands. They were tougher than I would’ve thought, calloused and hard from working with metals and wood and materials. He stared into my eyes for long enough for my tears to stop flowing. “Y/n,” he said. “It’s okay. You were forgiven years ago.”

He pulled me into a tight embrace. A week ago, I would’ve fought and hit and yelled at him, but now? I melted into Hiccup’s body, burying my face in his chest and wrapping my arms tightly around him, letting my tears flow freely.

For the first time since my parents died, I felt at peace.

For the next three weeks, I tried my hardest to start a routine. To start cleaning my house, cooking meals every day, and (the hardest part of all), going out and talking to someone each and every morning.

Sometimes I just talked to Astrid, when it got bad and I truly couldn’t get enough emotion energy to talk to anyone else. But sometimes I managed. I talked to the kids playing in the streets, to the other girls I never really talked to before, to the guys helping out in the dragon-saddle-making workshop.

But mostly, I talked to Hiccup. I talked to him as if we’d never stopped being friends, as if we were six years old again. It honestly surprised me how easy it was to get along with him now that I didn’t have an eternal grudge against him. Hiccup was still the same person he’d always been. It was me who had changed.

I made an effort to even start working. I’d never done anything like it before, really, but it was honestly alright. I had a few shifts at the dragon workshop a week, and it was kind of fun after a while. Yeah, sure, I still got terrified when someone actually brought their dragon to the shop, but for the most part it was good.

Hiccup worked there sometimes as well, and so did Stoick. Astrid didn’t, because she was a dragon trainer and didn’t really have the time. I would’ve liked it if we were able to work together, but there was no way I would be able to train dragons. At all.

But, you know, life was pretty alright. I still had scars, deep and hidden and probably incurable, but I also had friends. And hope. And maybe, just maybe, a future.

I woke up screaming. My bedsheets were clutched tight in my fists, a tangled mess around my legs. Hot tears were still rolling down my cheeks, and my chest heaved, as if I’d just run the length of the island in my sleep.

I tried to swallow, tried to even out my breathing. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow properly. I reached for the glass of water that I always had beside my bed, and gulped it down.

I could still evision the awful images from my dreams. Hiccup, Astrid, my parents, all trapped in a circle of flaming dragons. They were screaming for me, calling my name. I couldn’t move, my legs seemingly stuck to the ground. I could do nothing but watch as the dragons slowly spread over the bodies of my loved ones, devouring them. I sank to my knees, screaming in agony.

I shivered, climbing out from under the sheets. I needed to get out of this empty house. I didn’t care if it was the middle of the night, I had to see someone.

I hurried down the stairs, bursting out into the night. Stars glittered in the sky, the night quiet and bright. The cold wind hit me like a wall, and I shuddered. I hadn’t thought of grabbing my jacket.

My feet moved faster than my mind, taking me somewhere that I didn’t even know I wanted to be. I slipped inside Hiccup’s house, tiptoeing to where I knew his room was.

Outside his door, I finally realised what I was doing. Sneaking into Hiccup’s room in the dead of night? What was I thinking? Was I crazy?

Maybe I am, I thought, slowly pushing open Hiccup’s door. I stood still on his doorway for a moment, before quietly slipping over to the side of his bed.

“Hiccup?” I breathed, almost soundlessly.

“Y/n?” Hiccup was instantly awake, sitting up in his bed. “What are you…? Why are you here? Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse from sleep, and he squinted at me.

I hesitated. What was I supposed to say? Oh, I just had a dream about you dying and it terrified me so I’m here to make sure you’re still alive? Of course I wasn’t going to say that.

“I had a nightmare.” I bit my lip, shifting from foot to foot. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

Hiccup’s dark eyes gazed into mine. He leaned back slightly, so he could see me more clearly. “Why did you come to me?” he asked quietly, his voice ragged and raspy.

I dropped my gaze. “You were the only one I thought of coming to,” I whispered. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Hiccup said. “Do… do you want to stay here? Or do you want me to walk you back to your house?”

I hesitated. “Could I please just stay here, with you?” I met his eyes for a brief second.

He smiled. “Anything for you.” He said it so flippantly, I might’ve missed it any other time. But my brains snagged on the words, turning them over and over in my mind. Anything for you…

“Thank you, Hiccup,” I whispered. We were both silent for a while. “Can I… can I stay with you until morning?” I asked.

Hiccup stared at me, then nodded. I slowly crawled onto his bed, leaning against the bed-head. Hiccup glanced at me, then lay back down on his pillow. After a moment, I snuggled down next to him, hyper aware of every part of my body under the sheets.

We were nose to nose. I could feel his hot breath on my face. His green eyes glittered in the darkness.

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered groggily. “I hope you don’t have any more nightmares.” With that, he closed his eyes, and I heard no more from him.

#hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #hiccup haddock x reader #httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd fanfic

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viburnt · 4 months

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Divorcing Izuku Midoriya Headcanons

I'm on a creative rush, and this may make zero sense because I'm tired lmao. Anyways, have some angst <3

Tagging the babes: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @trickster-kat @angelshimaa (babe, you've missed some very angsty posts) @xhieru @mimisxs @dabislittlemouse

Content Warning: Divorce, emotional abuse and manipulation, mention of baby-trapping, alcohol.

• As I said in my last post, divorcing Izuku is a nightmare. Think about the most energy-draining and mental health deteriorating process, and multiply it for a minimum of 6 months. Izuku won't make things easy for you at all, trying to drag and prolong the whole ordeal just to keep you close. I've divided this set of headcanons by key moments/topics to keep some order. I hope you enjoy them, I'm pouring my heart on these (also pay attention to detail because I'm working on something hehe).

Denial and confusion: the first days after you serve him papers

• Izuku genuinely doesn't understand why you want to leave, refusing to accept the fact that you're not happy being by his side. He's given you all there is to give: a comfortable house, nice clothes, expensive cars, etc. So when you serve him papers, Izuku's first reaction is confusion followed by fear. In that head of his, he's made everything a good husband has to do! So why? Why would you not be happy?

• If you were smart enough and planned your movements with care, you should be able to go through your divorce without depending financially on Izuku or having to live in the same place. You'd have to deal with his incessant calls and texts, often having to block unknown numbers to avoid hearing his whines, but it'd be less difficult. If you weren't thoughtful about the situation and proceeded without the right steps, oh, you're in for a treat: there's nowhere you can go besides the house you shared with him, no place where you can be at peace. You're at Izuku's mercy, like it or not, but that's another story.

• In addition to his denial, Izuku starts to (unconsciously) guilt trip you. Phrases like "Sorry for not being enough," and "I know I'm very pathetic" become frequent. It pains your heart to hear those things because you know Izuku loves you, you are just not compatible at all. You try to let him see it's not about being enough, it's more about effort; with much patience, you set things clear to avoid any misunderstandings, but Izuku just doesn't get it.

• "Haven't I done this or that for you? Didn't I buy you all these things? Am I not enough?" "Izuku, I didn't ask you for any of this, all I wanted was my husband..." Conversations like this occur during this phase, and they can only be held through the phone (when he is sober and not yelling/hollering how much of a mistake a divorce would be). He tries to gauge sympathy from you, telling you that his job is important but that he loves you so much!

• He becomes an empty shell of the bright ray of sunshine the public knew. It goes unnoticed by many, but the people who work around him can tell. It is then when he starts telling others about his marital situation, and you end up seeing faces you've met once or twice during galas or hero events. You "accidentally" stumble across your husband's colleagues, like Ochako, who try to convince you to give him a second chance. "I- I know we don't know each other a lot but please, consider it. Izuku is a great guy a-and I'm sure you guys could fix any problem!" It is embarrassing for you because no one wants people to know their issues.

• What's so ironic about the moment when you serve him papers is that he receives them at his office, the very root of all the problems in your marriage. It was the place where he had spent anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's... those four walls witnessed the beginning and the end of your relationship. Izuku has a mental breakdown when he finally reads the documents but, hey, he was still pro-hero Deku, right?

Negotiations and lawyers: The first weeks and months

• If having to deal with Izuku's colleagues trying to change your mind wasn't enough, be ready for your soon-to-be ex trying to negotiate. Midoriya suggests couple's therapy to talk this through, and for a split of second, it almost sounds like a good idea! But then you remember all those times when Izuku had promised you he'd be there for you and failed. It didn't seem plausible after that... Besides, all things considered, it'd be hard to find a therapist who could see your side of the story. Who would dare to tell someone as charming and popular as Izuku that he failed as a husband?

• Once therapy is off the table, Izuku brings up children. It may be considered a low blow, especially if one of your dreams was to form a family with him, so his offer felt cruel. "W-we can have kids! Wouldn't you want that? We can be a big family, with one- No, two babies!" "Ouch, it takes a divorce for you to even think about it, huh? That's uh, slightly concerning. Besides, a kid needs a father too... I'm not planning on being a single mom in this marriage" Now, Izuku strikes me as the kind that would try to . to stay. I'm sorry if it sounds terrible, but considering how sometimes he acts on impulse, he really could try it.

• Izuku also tries to be at home more often; he "cooks" (it's takeout disguised as home meals), brings you coffee to the bed, and calls you all kinds of sappy nicknames... It saddens you, why couldn't he care like that before? Of course, this point only applies if you still live with him during this whole process. If you don't, he starts frequenting the places where he guessed could find you: cafeterias, plazas, shops...

• Finding a lawyer for you was a hard task, especially because everyone sees you as a "dumb" woman who is trying to divorce Japan's number one hero. Not to mention they were very expensive, and Izuku was certainly not giving you money for that. You tell Izuku that mediations need to happen to progress with the divorce, but he never shows up to the meetings. There's always an excuse for that man! No matter how much you plea, he refuses to sign the paper. Izuku also becomes very mean towards you, outright berating you for not understanding him. It's gruesome to see him turn into such a monster during these months.

• As an additional point for this part, Izuku hires a private investigator to follow you around. He feels bad for thinking of it, but the idea that you could be seeing someone else while you're trying to divorce him eats him alive.

Last resort: Mediatic battle

• The media is very quick to pick up your marriage's fall down. Time after time you visited your lawyer's office for them to put two and two together, and Izuku takes that to his advantage. Sensationalist articles had already been happening, a lot of them being cruel and demeaning towards you. Titles like "Is she a cheater?" "No amount of success gives you the girl!" And "Pro-hero Deku will be looking for a new wife soon" started popping up. You have to take down any social platform to avoid being targeted.

• It is when Izuku gives a public declaration that things get worse. "I'm sorry, my wife is just not happy with me anymore. Please respect her wish! Don't harass her, I failed as a husband." It may seem like a hearty and sorrowful declaration from the outside, but Izuku picked word by word to gain sympathy and pressure you into changing your mind. People in the street call you "heartless", and the stress simply keeps growing for you.

• To put it in simple words, you were David against Goliath, except Goliath was a glorified person who had all the resources and support of the people. You were nothing but a tiny mouse squeaking to be set free of a relationship that was suffocating you.

The aftermath: Supposing you haven't given up and he signed the divorce papers

• If you somehow manage to divorce him after all these problems, congratulations. You survived 5% of the drama that awaits you! Now you won't be able to date someone without people snapping photos for entertainment news or judging you for leaving "such a great man". Izuku will still try to convince you to go back to him, playing his "sad lover" role in front of the cameras so well! He'll try to send expensive gifts and tell you to keep the house, he'll call you drunk in the middle of the night, and if you're not careful enough, he may try to gaslight you into thinking nothing wrong was happening in your marriage.

• One particular thing I must mention is that Izuku only signed the papers after you yelled at him at one of the legal mediations, hot embarrassment tears falling from your tired eyes as you begged him to let you go.

• Anyways, the list could go on, but those are the main points of divorcing Izuku :')

"Please, just sign the papers..." You said through the phone, your voice tired of pleading to someone who simply refused to hear you. "I will, I will! I'm just a little under the snow with work. Can you reschedule?" Izuku said, apologizing for not being there for you. Excusing himself for failing you, but refusing to let go. "You know how many articles I've seen with my face saying how much of bitch I am for visiting my lawyer's office?"

Izuku's silence was deafening, you could only hear him sigh slightly, perhaps feeling bad for putting you in such a position. "I don't want this divorce."

"But I do, so don't make things more difficult for me, please." He heard you say, biting his lip to hold back the tears. Izuku was glad you couldn't see him, sitting alone in his office with a half-empty bottle of wine you'd gifted him for his birthday. "Do you remember what day is today?" He asked.

"I don't know, Monday? I haven't slept lately." You answered unamused. "It's our anniversary... we married 5 years ago, on this very day." His words came out as a slow slur, his breath hitching as he crumbled through the phone. "I miss you a lot, please-"

"I'll see you on Wednesday, if you're not there I swear to God..."

...

"Mr. Midoriya?" Your lawyer called, her voice bringing your anxious husband back to reality. "Ah, sorry, it's me. Is... is she in there?" He asked, pointing at her office. She just looked at him with little sympathy and nodded. "On time, as always. Maybe you should avoid keeping her waiting, that's the least you could considering how many times we've had these conversations."

"There's no way I can fix this, is there?" Izuku asked as if the lawyer cared. "Wanna do something nice for her? Divorce her."

#my hero academia #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #deku angst #izuku midoriya angst #divorced Au! Yeah I think Im gonna make a whole Au #I need a nap #Feedback is appreciated

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ghosts-cyphera · 7 months

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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa obsessed with pornstar!Ghost!!!!!!! My current employment goal is sex work in some capacity actually (OF, actual porn, stripping, whatever I’m not picky lmao), so this is hitting me somewhere VITAL.

ohhhhh fuckkkkkkkkkkk imagine you accidentally moan out ‘I love you’ during a scene and he pauses for a split second and starts kissing you sloppy style while moaning out that he loves you too, and that video gets more views and revenue than all your previous stuff COMBINED and everyone online goes FUCKING WILD ABOUT IT

AAAAAAAAA ITS TOO EARLY IN THE MORNING FOR BRAINROT HELP

STOP IT this is so fucking cute?!?!

I’m not even joking when I say I nearly dropped my phone from how fast I dashed to respond to this. yes, yes, yes to all of it.

aaah from one (ex) sex worker to another, this gets me really excited! I did voice acting, cam girling, sugar babying, and online modeling, lol. not on OF but !! I had a fucking blast. if you need any tips or advice on how to stay safe and sane on the industry, please let me know. 💕

that being said lmao, I’m furiously scribbling this idea down, because I need to—goodness fucking gracious, I need to write something based on this. the way he’d go fucking FERAL because he never thought he’d hear you say the words, yet as you do, he realizes that it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted OMFG aaaaaahhh help!!

pornstar!ghost is beginning to possess every single waking moment of my life, and it’s only been like 17 hours since he was born lmao.

mwahmwah I adore you! please stay safe with dipping your toes into sex work and do not be afraid to set boundaries. it can be incredibly self-empowering as long as you remember your worth and refuse to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. create content for yourself, based on your own kinks and fantasies, and only interact with those who respect you. 💕

good luck!!

#can’t believe I admitted to this lmao hi!!#lo answers #pornstar!ghost #a:ps!ghost

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solarisfortuneia · 11 months

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— 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬.

diluc is hopeless with grocery shopping. luckily, a kind stranger is more than willing to step in and help.

✦ info: diluc has no idea what he's doing and neither does the author, modern au, strangers to lovers kinda, possibility of ooc-ness, grammar mistakes may be present, there is absolutely no logic here, 2k+ words.

✦ warnings: none.

✦ notes: well, it's this fic again! thought i'd repost it because i'm in the middle of working on a sequel. though with my time management please don't expect it to be posted anytime soon lmao (and don't worry! i still have the original taglist saved.)

would it be far fetched to call grocery shopping an art? and to call one able to navigate the labyrinthine aisles efficiently nothing short of a master?

perhaps it would be.

though, if it was an art, you'd be but a mediocre artist. not horribly unskilled, but no one would be in awe of your nonexistent prowess at brandishing coupons at cash registers.

you shake your thoughts away. what are you thinking? who made you so eloquent in the middle of aisle seven? you ask yourself, gaze scanning the various items on the shelves. focus on your groceries, dummy.

okay, let's see, now. you stop in the middle of the condiments aisle, recollecting the items you need. ah yes, ketchup and mayo. hmm, where would they be?

aha! you see two familiar bottles on the second shelf, and you carefully place them in your cart. a glass jar with a green label and a red lid catches your eye. chili paste? you consider your potential purchase. eh, i'll get it. it's on sale.

now, let's get some rice.

you round the corner to get to the grain aisle when you see a man, clad in a brown coat and incredibly polished shoes, with hair so red you'd think his head was on fire, just. glaring. at a bag of rice. you sneak a glance at him, wondering if the rice had wronged him in some manner.

deciding to ignore him, you pick up a five kilogram bag, then heave it into your trolley. and as you prepare to push it with the extra weight, you spy the man picking up the exact same bag, brand, weight and all. huh.

thinking nothing of it, you continue on your merry way, hoping to get your shopping done as quickly as possible, assuming that it'd be the last you'd ever see of the man.

but it appears fate had other plans. you spot him once again in the canned foods aisle, glaring at another innocent, harmless grocery item. the victim this time, you ask? a can of baked beans.

you throw another sideways look at him, lightly tapping the pads of your fingers against the handles of your trolley. who even is this guy? you silently watch as he picks up the same brand you've put in your cart moments before. ah, he was probably just confused.

however, you’re still a little concerned about the man. does a grown man truly not know what he's doing in a grocery store? you scan the shelves for a random item, and your eyes land on a can of baby food. a light bulb goes off in your head, and you decide to test something. quickly, you grab two of them.

you open your mouth the second after he moves to get the same thing. “can i help you, sir?” he freezes at the sound of your voice, hand halfway between his body and the shelf with the exact thing you just picked up, baby food in hand. you raise an eyebrow, "are you aware of what you're buying?"

he sheepishly rakes his hand through his hair and shakes his head. "i'm afraid i'm not." he clears his throat, color beginning to creep up his neck.

you grin at him. “check the label on the can.” you watch as this giant of a man turns the can around, and slowly turns into a human stop sign with the way his face blazes. you know you probably shouldn’t find the sight of the man with such an intimidating expression turning to a flustered mess so adorable.

“my apologies,” he clears his throat again, then rubs the back of his neck, eyes averted. “i’ve never been shopping before.” he sets the can back, refusing to meet your eyes.

“oh, don't tell me.” you tease, lightheartedly. “is it a case of a rich boy living on his own for the first time, without anyone to do things for him?”

the look on his face answers for him. his eyebrows nearly climb to his hairline, and he blinks. you laugh, incredibly surprised at your assumption being true. “in that case, let me help.” you hold out your hand, taking pity on the man. “do you have a list?”

he fishes out a hastily scribbled list from the depths of one of his coat pockets that simply says bread, milk.

sigh. “it seems i have my work cut out for me.” you take a gander at the items in his cart and spot the rice, the beans, along with three varieties of bread and a two liter bottle of milk. well, at least he got the items on his list.

you pick up the bottle, skimming over the other details to find the production and expiry dates. “just out of curiosity, did you check the dates on the milk?”

he slowly shakes his head. “i figured as much.” you gesture to the numbers, and motion for him to take a look. “this expires in two days. i doubt you’ll be able to finish the whole thing by then, so you should probably find a bottle with a more recent production date.”

—

if there ever was a god of grocery shopping, diluc ragnvindr would be the bane of his existence.

why were these stupid stores so confusing? why were there so many brands of everything? why in the hell were there so many types of oranges? and these trolleys, good lord. just why were they so difficult to maneuver?

all the aisles blend into each other, and all diluc can do is stare emptily at each product he finds, unable to make a decision.

he'd have better luck finding his way around if he was randomly dropped in a venetian calle.

diluc has no idea what he's doing— in the store, at home, even in life.

living on his own for the first time since his dad passed away, in an apartment much tinier than the lavish mansion he was used to, struggling to keep his head above water, the young ragnvindr only knew ingredients once they'd been taken home and properly organized in containers and shelves.

he'd rather the world not see him fumbling, though. so he decides to do the only logical thing one can do in his situation. he picks a person and does exactly what they do.

after all, when one is in rome, do they not do as the romans do?

in hindsight, he should've just researched online. he should have decided his purchases earlier. or ordered the damn groceries online. because then he'd be able to avoid the embarrassment of being tricked with a can of baby food.

baby food, of all things! why couldn't it be something a little more dignified?

he watches you quickly replace the offending item on the shelves and push your cart in another direction before he could react. “come on, then. off to the dairy section we go.”

not wanting to be left behind in this headache inducing location, he hurriedly pushes his trolley too in an attempt to keep up with you. kaeya would never let me live that down, he thinks as he does.

with a pang, he shoves down the memory of his brother as far and as deep as he can, choosing to focus on the present, lest he end up in another spiral.

you lead him to milk he was supposed to get, and he watches you carefully as you examine the dates on the bottles for him. moments later, you beckon him close with a curl of your palm. leaning slightly, he peers over your shoulder.

“always try to get the one most recently produced,” you tell him, and he nods. he follows the movement of your finger tapping your chin, clearly pondering. his gaze travels a bit higher, and as he sees your lips move, he realizes that he completely missed what you were saying.

“pardon?” he stumbles ungracefully on the initial sound.

“what's your favorite fruit?” you repeat. “that'll be first on our list on what to get for you.”

his favorite fruit? he didn't think he had one. “peaches,” he blurts, finding himself unwilling to disappoint you with his lack of proper response, his eyes falling on a peach milkshake drink.

his ears note your change in tone, voice turning excited. “oh, they're one of my favorites too!” warmth engulfs his gloved hand and he finds himself being dragged to the produce section.

“what about the trolleys?” he asks, mind still reeling from the sudden hand grabbing on your part.

you wave off his concerns. “oh, they'll be fine parked to the side.” you all but drag him to the peach display. “now, pay close attention, okay?”

as if he needed you to tell him that. “i'm listening,” he says.

you pick up a peach with bruising. “when you're sorting through peaches, look for the ones with no blemishes. they don't spoil as fast. same with apples and pears and such.” now this, he knew. but he still nods along, a picture-perfect student. he sees your eyes and wonders how anyone's could be so gorgeous.

later, he dutifully nods a little more as you explain the specifics of choosing potatoes.

“the potatoes should be firm, and there should be no signs of green,”

should he be taking notes? he stamps the involuntary urge to hunt for a notepad in one of his pockets down, deciding he did not want to embarrass himself any more in front of you.

you seemed to glow even under the unflattering light around you, hair lit by it as you tell him about how to look for the right cauliflowers and broccoli.

how could someone look so ethereal while standing next to onions?

diluc ragnvindr. get. a. grip. they're only talking about vegetables.

you ask him to tell you the price of the eggs while you sort through carrots for both him and yourself. he walks over a couple of yards, carefully examines the label and returns to report the number.

“that much?!” you eyes widen. “my goodness, that should be considered robbery!”

...was it? he thought it was a reasonable price for a carton of eggs. still, he blindly agrees. you smile, having caught on to the fact that he had no idea what the price should be, and he can't help the pride that spreads its wings in his heart. (though he probably shouldn't be, considering why you smiled, he was glad that he was the cause of it.)

the rest of the shopping goes in a similar manner. you tell him things. he nods, he observes another one of your features, then notes down whatever you tell him mentally.

by the time you reach check out, both of your trolleys are filled with the exact same items in the exact same quantities. except for two items in his cart that he reached for out of instinct when he saw them on the shelf: a chocolate his brother liked, and a snack his father used to eat often.

he contemplates leaving them behind, but decides against it at the last minute just before the cashier scans them.

he sees you reach into your pockets for a wallet, and sees an opportunity to repay you for your help.

he's quick to pull out his own and hands his card to the cashier before you can say a word.

“i insist,” he says, when you protest. “it is only fair i do this in return for you helping me,”

you sigh, giving him another one of the smiles he had started to adore. “alright, thank you.”

the two of you walk outside the store together. cool wind ruffles both of your hair. “well, i guess this is where we part ways,” you say with a laugh and a wave. he manages a soft smile in return.

“farewell, then.” he watches you walk away, still standing at the entrance, shopping bags in hand. "dammit." he curses under his breath.

he'd forgotten to ask for your name.

#—🖋#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff

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siredtosturniolos · 2 months

Text

YOU

paring: chris sturniolo x reader

part 1 of ???

summary: your best friend madi set you up on a blind date with one of her closest friends. you go and have a decent time, but ultimately decide there’s no second date. chris doesn’t like that, and resorts to extreme measures to get YOU.

warnings: stalking, dumb!reader, mentions of drinking/going to a bar idk

authors note: guys i hope you guys like this as much as i do LMAO i just love joe goldberg (this is gonna be so long help) (also i love jake webber sm so he’s in this for a bit!) (everyone is a couple years older in this, the triplets are famous but it’s never brought up) (hopefully there’s not many mistakes i’ve read it too many times LMAO)

word count: 3,936

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the last few weeks you can’t help but notice the unsettling sensation of always feeling like you have somebody’s eyes on you. walking around your house with the curtains open became such a hassle, always drawing them shut when chills would rake down your spine. you were constantly checking that your front door was locked, unable to shake the feeling of a presence that you don’t know about being with you.

you were getting more and more paranoid, traveling to and from work constantly having to look behind you, hearing things that aren’t there such as footsteps. slowly overtime you notice some of your belongings missing. such as your favorite lingerie set, your childhood blanket, and even t-shirts and shorts that you wouldn’t otherwise miss, until you were looking for them.

you finally confessed to madi what’s been happening, resulting in her and laura coming over. they helped you change your locks and make sure all of the windows on the ground floor of your two-story town house fully locked and weren’t able to open from the outside.

you were terrified to say the least.

you did your best to shake the feeling as you got ready for a date. you had met him at a bar just down the street, as you refused to let madi set you up with another friend after you had met chris. you had a good time with him, but he just seems slightly off in a way that you couldn’t place. it was like he knew you before he ever met you, and it kind of freaked you out.

at the time you just shrugged it off and assumed madi was hyping you up and telling him lots of things about you, but when you asked her about it a few days after the date, she said she hadn’t told him much other than your name and age.

chris kept texting and calling you, trying to make plans or inviting himself to your house, you decided to just block him. madi had reached out shortly after saying that chris was trying to get a hold of you. you had explained to her what was going on, feeling bad as you know madi would beat herself up over this.

madi was shocked and said that she would let chris know to leave you alone.

your heels clicked against the floor as you made your way around your apartment, doublechecking your back door was locked, you even put your trashcan in in front of it so if somebody did get in, it would be knocked over. you make your way out of your place once you feel everything is secure, locking and dead-bolting the door, you trudged down the steps.

before you know it you’re at the bar you met jake at, and quickly find your way to the bar, where the two of you agreed to meet.

you instantly spot his tall frame, grinning to yourself as you approach him. “jake.” you greet politely, sitting down on the stool next to him.

he greets you back enthusiastically, “you look great.” he smirks down at you, letting his eyes scan your body. you were wearing a black long sleeve dress, with black heels. you wanted to keep it basic as you were just meeting up in a bar to get to know each other over some drinks.

your cheeks flush, “thank you, you do too.” you shyly compliment him back. the two of you order your drinks, and begin chatting, finding that you both have lots of things in common.

at some point through the night, you found yourself scooting closer and closer to jake. your knees now pressing against one another. jake brought his hand down to your knee and began rubbing it. he leans towards you as the bartender took away your now empty glasses, a warm buzz setting over your body.

“do you want to get out of here?” he quietly asks you, tugging one of his snake bite piercings into his mouth.

you bite your lip in anticipation, “my place or yours?” you seductively ask, making jake spring to his feet and instantly help you off the stool you had been sitting on all night.

the two of you quickly make your way back to your place, as it was closer than jake’s, his hands wandering your body as you pull out your keys. you look up to your door and freeze. shock courses through your body at the sight, it had been slightly left open.

“oh shit,” jake mumbles, turning to look down at you, “forget to lock up before you left?” he asked questionably, shuffling to the side slightly so he could enter first.

“no, i swear i had it locked. i even remembered to deadbolt it.” you nervously reply, no idea as to what could be lurking inside your home. you definitely didn’t want to tell jake you more than likely have a stalker, considering this was your first date with him.

“i’ll go check it out.” jake offers. he pushes the door open slightly, making it creek eerily, sending goosebumps across your arms.

“are you crazy? i’m not staying out here by myself. i’ll go with you.” you insist, taking a step to follow him.

he turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, “fine, but just stay behind me.” you nod in agreement, lightly trailing behind him up your stairs.

the two of you slowly make your way into your town house and you quickly flick on the lights. you both observe the floor plan for any signs of movement.

when you see there’s nobody down here, you and jake look at each other before looking up the stairs that were right by the front door.

jake makes a move towards the stairs and you stop him, “shouldn’t we take a weapon or something?” you ask incredulously, making him freeze in his spot. maybe this guy doesn’t have the best common sense, but at least he’s hot.

“yeah, we probably should.” jake replies, as he slowly and quietly makes his way towards your kitchen. you grab the baseball bat behind your front door, thanking the gods above that it’s still there. jake shuffles about in your kitchen for a moment before he comes back with a knife.

taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you follow behind jake as he leads the way up the stairs. you had two bedrooms and a bathroom up there.

your hallway light was on, so you had the advantage of being able to slightly see into the rooms. jake quickly enters one room and flicks on the light, holding the knife out from his chest, twisting his head back-and-forth looking for any signs of life. once you both deem the room as clear, you move onto the bathroom located right next-door.

you’re shocked when the light turns on, the shower curtain is open, and all of your shower products scattered on the floor.

“that wasn’t like that when i left.” you mumbled to jake, chills shooting down your spine.

someone had definitely been in here.

the only place left to check was your bedroom, and you were terrified as the thought of someone being in there someone waiting for you. what if you didn’t bring jake home with you tonight?

jake makes his move quick, turning on the light and stepping into the room. you’re right behind him, frantically searching to see if anything was missing or out of place.

your eyes land on your bed and a gasp escapes your lips. there’s flowers all over your bed, and a black velvet box sitting on one of your pillows. jake checks under your bed and in your closet before lowering his weapon setting it on your dresser

“this is freaky.” jake comments, rounding the bed and grabbing the black box. you move to stand next to him as he peels the box open, revealing a beautiful necklace. it was a pink diamond heart, with a ring around it to make it look like a planet on a silver chain.

“that looks familiar.” you murmured to jake, racking your brain to figure out where you had seen something like that before.

before you could place it, your front door slammed shut making the two of you jump in fear. jake raced down the stairs to see a man running away from your apartment, dressed in all black with his hood up.

“what the fuck?” jake yelled, while opening the door and stepping outside. it was no use as the figure had turned the corner and was out of sight.

“should we call the cops?” you ask jake, trembling slightly as you realize that more than likely, that man been in your house while you were still still looking for him.

jake turns to face you, “go pack a bag and you can stay with me or I can take you somewhere safe. it’s up to you about the cops, but by the time they get here he’ll be long gone.”

you nod wordlessly, and make your way back upstairs quickly changing into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. slipping on your white nike’s you pack your bag. immediately once you’re done, you start texting madi saying that you needed to stay over.

“tonight was fun.” you joke softly to jake, as he drives towards madi’s home.

jake looks over you briefly, grinning, “i did have a good time but that ending was not what i expected.” he replied you, making you nod in agreement.

jake pulled into madi’s driveway, madi instantly running to the car.

“are you okay? is everything okay?” she hurriedly asks, helping you open the door and taking your bag for you.

“if you somehow want a second date, you have my number.” you tell jake as you shut the door. you wave at him, offering him a smile before you and madi make it inside of her house.

you noticed there’s several pairs of shoes by her front door when you kick off your own, you looked at her questionably, to find her already looking at you apologetically.

“who’s here?” you ask as the two of you made your way towards her living room.

“i’m sorry i didn’t you would be coming over but the triplets are here.” madi replies, just as you both enter the living room to find nick, matt, and chris sitting on her couch.

all three of them to look at you and madi, and you can’t help but feel incredibly awkward. you glance towards the tv, to see a movie paused about half way through.

great, i just interrupted their movie night, you think to yourself.

“hey.” nick greets you casually offering you a smile. you grin back at him in acknowledgment before taking a seat next to madi on the loveseat. nick had always been chill, occasionally crashing sleepovers at madi’s house. you didn’t mind, he was pretty fun to be around.

you had only met matt a few times, not really able to give an opinion on the man. he seemed very closed off, like he wanted people to work if they wanted to get to know him. you admired that about him, as you tend to have word vomit and end up oversharing frequently.

“okay, what the hell happened?” madi demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

biting your lip softly, glancing to the triplets, who are still focused on you. they were madi’s closest friends, there’s no harm in them hearing the story too.

“i was taking my date back to my place and when we get there, my front door is open but we ended up not finding anyone. they messed with my shower, and they put flowers all over my bed and gave me a necklace.” you explained briefly, shortening the story. you left out the part of seeing a guy running away from your apartment, you’d wait to tell her that when you were alone.

“what the fuck.” madi comments, raising her eyebrows in shock.

“damn, you have a full on stalker.” matt commented, making your eyes shoot to his. he had an apologetic look on his face.

“yeah, this isn’t even the first time they have been in my house though.” you reply, leaning back into the cushion behind you.

“what?” nick gasped, turning to fully face you. you decide to overshare, telling them all of the times you had noticed someone entering your home without you knowing. even when you were there yourself.

chris was rather quiet, his eyes darting from you to madi, to his brothers. he was nervously fidgeting with the blanket on his lap, subtlety tucking his necklace underneath his shirt.

you suddenly decide to let madi and the triplets know the full story, “i know it was crazy. we were in my room when we heard my front door slam, but by the time we got down there, we could just see the person leaving.” you tell them, not missing how chris’ eyes grow in size, a worried expression etching onto his face.

“that’s actually so scary. what are you going to do?” madi asked, resting her hand on your arm attempting to comfort you.

you shrugged, “i think i’m gonna go to the police station and see if they’re any help in the morning. i just know that i can’t stay there tonight.”

“i’m so sorry you’re going through this.” chris suddenly speaks up. you meet his eyes, and he genuinely looks apologetic for you.

“nothing i can’t handle i suppose.” you offer him a small smile.

you zone out for the next hour, overthinking every possible scenario of what could’ve happened tonight. the movie everyone else was watching when you got here ended, making madi announce she was going to bed.

“you sure you’re good to sleep down here?” madi asked you, as you offered to stay on the loveseat since chris was getting the couch and matt was getting the spare room.

nick was going to sleep in madi’s room with her and you didn’t want to mess up their plans any more than you already had.

“yeah, i’ll be fine. i’ve done it before.” you assure her with a shrug, before she handed you the pillow and blanket she had went and gotten for you.

“okay,” she sighs, “you know where i’m at if you need me.” with that, she turned on her heel and made her way to her bedroom where nick was waiting for her.

“do you fall asleep with the tv on?” chris asked, making you turn towards him. he had the remote in his hand, slightly leaning upwards to look at you from a few feet away.

“i do you,” quietly reply, “but if you don’t, i can survive one night without it.”

chris immediately shakes his head, “i fall asleep with the tv on too don’t worry.” he offers you a smile before loading up a random movie you had never seen before.

the two of you sit in a comfortable silence, leaving you to your thoughts. you can’t help but think about the date you and chris shared a few months ago, was it as bad as you really thought it was or were you just overthinking?

being around chris tonight made you realize he might just have a strong personality. he’s been rather low-key tonight and that’s something you’re deeply attracted to.

“hey chris?” you quietly ask, unsure if he’s sleeping or not. you turn your head to the right to look at the couch just in time to see chris fully sit up to look at you.

“what’s up?” he asked, bringing his knees to his chest as he looks at you.

“i’m sorry for how things went between us.” you quietly apologize, doing your best to meet his eyes in the dark room.

he offers a small smile, “it’s okay, i think i just came on a little too strong because i was so excited to even have a chance with you.”

your cheeks flush at his confession, “how was your date with jake tonight?” he asked, making you frown as you realize you hadn’t thought of him once since arriving.

you pause, slowly turning to look back at chris, “how’d you know i went on a date with jake?” you ask, knowing you hadn’t brought up his name when retelling the story an hour ago.

chris freezes, “i think madi mentioned it when you texted her earlier.” he replies after a beat of silence, leaving you on edge but letting it go anyways.

“it was fine.” you finally speak, answering his first question, while shrugging your shoulders. “he’s not really boyfriend material.”

chris’s eyebrows raise at your reply, “so what was the point of going out with him?” he questions, a puzzled expression set on his face.

your cheeks burn, even hotter, “think about it, chris. what else is there to do when you don’t want to date someone?” you sheepishly reply as you watch the realization wash over his face.

“oh, so you wanted to fuck?” he asked a small smirk appearing on his lips. bashfully you nodded, surprised that you’re keeping yourself together with this conversation. chris bites his lip as he looks at you, and you can barely see his eyes glance down at your lips before he briefly closes them.

“if you ever want to give me another chance, i’m here.” chris comments before he lays back down so now his back is facing you.

your heartbeat jumps at his words, and his low tone of voice. your thighs clench together, your brain fighting over which dirty scenario to think about first.

you get lost in your thoughts, and before you know it you had fallen asleep. you wake up pretty early as you never sleep well when you’re not in your bed. you sit up after you see chris is still sound asleep, this time facing you. you can’t help but think how cute he looks while he’s asleep.

his head is resting on the pillow, and his arms are tightly wrapped underneath. his lips are slightly parted, and his hair flopped perfectly over his forehead. it was longer than when you went out with him, and you can’t help but like it more.

you catch yourself staring and you quickly look away before you shuffle your feet to go to the bathroom. you do your business, brushing your teeth and changing your clothes.

grabbing your bag and you set it by the front door, returning to the living room to leave madi a note.

going to the police station, i’ll call you when i get home. love you.

you quickly scribble that onto a napkin, leaving it at the center of the table before you make your exit of madi’s house and walk to the police station. it was only a 20 minute walk, and you can feel your blood pressure rise as you enter the building, instantly meeting eyes with a woman behind a desk.

“what can i do for you, hon?” she asked offering you a wide smile. your nerves slightly washed away at her friendly expression, as you leaned against the counter.

“i have to report a break-in from my possible stalker, that I know nothing about.” you inform her, watching the smile slip from her face. instantly she’s on her feet searching through folders before handing you a sheet of paper and a pen.

“fill this out for me and we will get to the bottom of this for you.” she offers a sad smile, sitting back down you walked to one of the waiting chairs, and instantly fill out the papers.

your address, your name, and any incident revolving any sort of suspicious activity. you fill it out faster than expected, as she was shocked to see you back on your feet in front of her.

she glances over the paper curiously, “okay, i’ll see if we have any officers able to do an inspection.” the woman speaks, taking the paper with her, you watched as she disappeared around the corner.

10 minutes later, you’re in the back of a cop car getting driven to your house. you were silent for the ride as the cop instructed you to stay in the car until he does a sweep through.

once he comes outside, you instantly step out of the car, “i took some photos, but there’s not much we can do at the moment, unfortunately. you’ll have to keep reporting any incident’s, preferably as soon as they occur, so there’s a higher chance of finding evidence or whoever is doing this to you.” he explains, making your heart drop.

there’s nothing they can do for you.

he has a little plastic baggie in his hand containing some of the flowers and the velvet box that held the necklace.

“thank you for taking the time to come out here.” you reply, as you make your way inside.

you text madi, letting her know what the cops said, as you sit on your couch in silence. you lean back against your couch as tears brim your waterline, feeling completely hopeless.

you were surprised when you suddenly woke up, not even realizing you had dozed off amidst your crying. you push the blanket that was resting on your chest off, feeling overheated, before you freeze.

you weren’t using a blanket before you fell asleep. chills ran down your spine as you quickly glanced around the room. your eyes settle on the kitchen table, a vase of flowers now sitting in the middle.

you cautiously get up, checking your surroundings as you slowly walk towards the flowers. there was a white envelope resting in the middle of the bouquet. your hand instantly grips your phone from your pocket, wanting to call the police but something stops you.

you don’t know how long ago he was in here, what’s the point in calling?

you carefully pick up the envelope, barely touching the edges as you don’t want your finger prints on it. you lift the flap, shaking it slightly for the folded up piece of paper to fall onto your table.

you take a deep breath before you unfold the paper, your jaw dropping at the amount of writing.

baby, don’t be scared. i’m just trying to show you how much i love you with the gifts. i was really disappointed when i saw the cop leaving with your necklace. did you not like it? you looked so pretty when you were sleeping, your tear strained cheeks and your pouty lips looked so kissable. i controlled myself, you’re going to be awake for our first kiss. you’ll be begging for it. now, the real reason i gave you these flowers. they’re a reminder for you, and anyone else, that you are MINE. i don’t want to see you with jake again. you wouldn’t want him to get hurt, would you baby? i’ll be seeing you soon my love.

your jaw is on the floor by the time you’re done reading it, instantly pulling out your phone to call jake. you’re searching for what seems like forever, not able to find his contact in your messages. you search jake, and are shocked to see no contacts come up.

goosebumps cover your arms as you realize, he had gotten on your phone and deleted jake’s contact. the only way you could get in touch with him. your breathing quickens, as you feel a rush of panic wash over you.

before you could move, a warm cloth is placed over your mouth, and a body pressed against your back. instantly you’re fighting to get away from them, but the arm that had slipped around your waist, tugging you into their body tightly, prevented you from getting away.

“shh baby, just relax.” a deep voice whispers in your ear, as you begin to feel light headed. your eyes slowly start to droop shut, despite your desperate attempt to keep them open. the man slowly removes the cloth from your nose, letting you suck in a deep breath before you fall limp.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #jake webber #youtube #writers on tumblr

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chelseeebe · 7 months

Text

gasoline.

so this was supposed to be like a the bear au and then i just got carried away and now it’s just whatever the hell this is lmao it’s been sitting in my docs since july and i thought it finally needed to see the light of day :)

this is two parts in one bc i hate doing two seperate parts but it’s highlighted where p1 ends and p2 begins

wc: 12k+ oops

‎♡‧₊˚

Look, the sleazy, deteriorating walls of Frank’s had never been his idea of a dream. But flunking high school and a failed band had meant limited this is where he’d ended up. Running the line at the frankly failing restaurant was more like his idea of hell but it paid the bills and with a solid team of other degenerates, meant that it wasn’t all that bad.

Well, that was until the devil incarnate came along. And by devil incarnate he means you.

Eddie couldn’t grasp why someone of your stature would ever take a job at such a shitty restaurant, with your fancy knives and kitchen lingo that really meant nothing to him, why wouldn’t you look for something else? Something better?

You’d ended up here because… well, despite going to culinary school, getting the big job after you had graduated and doing everything by the book so to speak, you’d missed that burning passion that could only be found in the shittiest, dirtiest kitchens.

Well that, and the fact you’d been let go. But that wasn’t relevant.

“Honey, I’ve been here for years, I really don’t give a shit about anything you’ve gotta say,” flapping his arms around at your suggestion of maybe washing his hands when he got back in from smoking, “Helen never had a problem with it, so why do you?”

“First off, I have asked you not to call me honey or whatever other stupid pet name you wanna give me… it’s chef,” brows furrowed, the rest of the kitchen pretending not to listen to your latest bickering, “and secondly, Helen is gone, so whatever rules she implemented mean nothing now, okay? You wash your hands when you come back in or… or…” struggling to come up with a suitable punishment.

“Or.. or what?” he mocks, turning to his colleagues for a little backup, “you gonna fire me? ‘Cause I’d love to see you try,” refusing to back down.

It was the principle, you see. Eddie really would’ve had no issue with washing his hands if literally anyone other than you had asked. He was positively fuming that you had just flounced in here and started laying down a bunch of bullshit rules that no other soul had cared about in his five years working here. Not only that, you’d beaten him to the head chef role. He was certain that he was a shoe in the second Helen announced that she was moving on. Only to walk in one morning to your grinning face, your uniform crisply ironed and this certain energy only Eddie had seemed to sense.

You sigh, you never liked to be the first one to resign after an argument but Eddie was relentless and would’ve kept at it all day if you didn’t, “Just wash your hands.. chef,” it was entirely too busy to spend all day going back and forth with the man child.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he’s smirking now, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wanted you.

“Please,” you frown, hand firmly on your hip as you stare back at him. You felt pathetic begging for the tiniest bit of respect in your damn kitchen but it was simply the only way to get him to cooperate.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he goads, brushing against your shoulder as he makes his way to the sink, the rest of the kitchen is in complete silence, watching and waiting to see how this one would end.

You readjust your collar, pressing your lips together in a firm line, choosing to ignore his childish remark. There would come a day that he’d regret every horrid thing he’d said to you and maybe that day wasn’t today but it would come and you could not wait.

It’s another month of butting heads with the long-haired prick before things come totally to a head. His inability to just follow simple orders had you at wits end, because Eddie truly believed that he knew better. A suggestion to add thyme to the mash potatoes had caused all out war in the kitchen.

“No, we add rosemary… not fuckin’ thyme,” he spits, aggressively stiring the pot, his back to you, guarding his precious dish from your grabby hands.

“And I’m saying to add both- actually no, I’m not saying, I’m telling,” grabbing the container of thyme and attempting to sprinkle it into the pan, “move out of the way, that’s an order.”

“Oooo,” he mocks, knuckles turning white from his grip on the handle, “An order.. I’m so scared,” chuckling as he blocks you from reaching over his shoulder, “why d’you think you know better, huh? You don’t know shit about this restaurant, we’ve done it my way for years and that’s not gonna change now.”

“Because I’m the fucking chef and I know better than you,” finally snapping at the man, slamming the container down onto the stainless steel countertop, “move. now,” you bark, widening your eyes as he twists around to meet yours, you could feel the disgust radiating from his glare.

“No.”

You huff, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fucking ponytail around your hand and slam his head into the worktop, “Step out chef,” a simple order that you thought was far more gracious than he deserved.

His mouth falls open, still gripping onto the now-overworked potatoes, “What the fuck?” frantically flailing for some comradery from his fellow workers, it seemed that they’d all fallen into place, no longer the bunch of grimy assholes he once knew.

“Step out,” you persist, teeth gritted as you stand strong on your order, tilting your chin to meet his harrowing gaze. Eddie didn’t frighten you per say, but he was intimidating and if it came down to it, you probably weren’t going to be the one to win that fight.

“Fuck this,” he exclaims, slamming the pan down onto the stove top with a loud bang before storming off out of the fire escape door, not before grabbing his cigarettes from the shelf you’d repeatedly told him not to keep them on.

There’s now mash potato all over the hob that would probably need some extensive scrubbing and would ensure that your kitchen would absolutely reek of the stuff all night. If you could have it your way, you’d have made him scrub the entire oven with a dang toothbrush until you could see your face in the metal.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cheeks burn as the rest of the kitchen watches on in utter amazement, even the old, hardened chefs had taken to your ways even if it had taken a little bit of pushing. There was no understanding as to why he couldn’t just listen, just shut up and get on with his job without trying to constantly argue and bite back. Maybe because you were a woman? You were younger than him? Or maybe it was simply because someone was finally up to the job of challenging him and he hated that fact.

Whatever it was, it was getting on your last nerve.

Eddie wasn’t by any means a bad chef, he was innovative and knew how to make shit taste good, he was just incapable of accepting that maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the only way.

You smooth your clammy palms down your apron, nodding at Tina. A subtle way of telling her to carry on and take charge while you dealt with the pathetic man outside.

The door slams as you step outside, looking around the dark alley for the man, following the trail of smoke to his slouched position around the corner. Now, this was the difficult part, you weren’t really looking to fire him but what choice did you have if he couldn’t just accept that you were his boss now.

“Have you calmed down?” breaking the silence, fingernails pressed into your palm leaving tiny crescent moon indentations.

You never were one for confrontation.

He scoffs, refusing to look in your direction as he puffs on the cigarette, “I’m calm.. are you calm?”

Even now, he couldn’t just smile and nod, always had to say something else, “I’m calm,” swallowing the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, “do you want to work here?”

“Nobody wants to work here, shit- even you don’t wanna be here,” chuckling to himself, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yes I do. Do you? Because I can help you if you don’t, trust me I am not scared to just let you go.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, tossing the cigarette to the ground before finally meeting your gaze, “you’re firing me?”

“No,” relaxing your shoulders, “but I need to know that you want to work here. That you aren’t going to keep arguing with me about stupid shit because I truly do not have the energy for it anymore,” watching as his expression falls, at a stretch you’d say he looks remorseful but that could very well just be the moonlight reflecting on his face, granting him more grace than he deserved.

The alley falls into silence, the only sounds being that of the bustling city around you and Tina’s faint voice barking instructions inside the kitchen.

His eyes avert to the concrete, with a pained expression he breaks the silence, “I do… wanna work here,” it’s like that tiny sentence caused him physical pain to get out.

“Good,” you nod, his words may mean nothing but it’s a relief to finally hear that he gives somewhat of a shit about this place running smoothly, “Eddie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good chef… but even the best chefs have to take orders sometimes and you are no exception to that.”

Eddie untenses his jaw for what must be the first time in ten years, that tiny bit of affirmation was exactly what he was looking for, “...thank you,” he turns his head towards yours, “I think you’re… you’re an okay chef,” the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he pushes himself from the rough brick.

Your eyes roll instinctively but you’re not mad, for once, “get back inside,” waving him off towards the door without turning to look at him.

Taking the moment to gather yourself and your thoughts. Who knew if Eddie had meant what he said or if it was even going to change anything but it had definitely meant something. It wasn’t a burning desire of yours to come in and be the new evil boss in fact, it was the very opposite of what you’d pictured. There just wasn’t much lee-way when you were given a team of stubborn assholes that had gotten far too used to slacking off.

Frank’s could really become something if everyone wanted it and were willing to put in the effort required to get there. Sure, you probably weren’t going to earn a Michelin star but you were sure you could make it worthy of something.

Eddie had mostly kept to his word. Finally washing his hands and keeping his hair out of his face, even if you had had to nag at him a little. There wasn’t as much kick back as before. Sure, he’d roll his eyes and huff and puff but he’d actually do it.

It’s another Saturday night, you’re not so busy but enough to keep you on your toes. Just longing for the moment you collapsed into your bed and didn’t have to think about this place until Monday morning.

Eddie sidles up to where you’re working, going over the rota for the next two weeks. Weighing up if waking up at the ass crack of dawn was actually worth all this.

“So I was thinking..”

“Uh oh,” you add, snapping the book shut before turning to him, he’s hopeful. Well, that or he’s about to say the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah great thanks.. so I was thinking, it’s getting warmer, right? I think we should put sandwiches on the menu, and not just boring old sandwiches.. like, like good ones,” his vocabulary is limited but you get what he means.

You ponder for a moment, staring into his wide, optimistic eyes. It was a good idea to be fair to him, you just weren’t sure if you had the time to conjure up a whole new sandwich menu on top of everything else on your plate.

“Okay, I actually think that’s a great idea,” you two were civil, not exactly the best buds but you think maybe now you could trust him. “If you can come up with some ideas and make them for me.. I’ll think about it.”

His grin is infectious as it spreads across his face, “I got you… what are you thinking? Something with chicken or..” fishing for ideas.

You throw your hands up, a shadow of a smile on your lips, “that is entirely up to you, okay?”

He nods knowingly, slowly backing away, eager to get started on his first individual project since your arrival.

“I’m trusting you with this!” you holler after him, getting back to the mess of a rota in front of you.

“Yes boss,” he calls back from somewhere in the kitchen, “I mean chef,” catching himself.

Your heart warms a little. Maybe your lectures hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all?

No matter how hard you stare at the screen, willing for something to magically appear, it doesn’t. The line marker blinking at you, taunting you, pleading with you to just write something. Anything!

There’s a quiet wrapping of knuckles against the door causing your head to fly up, finding a surprisingly clean Eddie standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” spinning your chair slightly, “shit, sorry I forgot to say you’re good to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” flashing him a tight lipped smile.

“Oh no… most of ‘em have already gone,” vaguely motioning to the now empty kitchen, “uh… a few of us were gonna grab a drink and wondered if you’d wanna join us?” He resembles a shy child, fingers tapping along the battered door frame.

“Oh!” you must’ve sounded shocked as his eyebrows travel up his forehead in surprise, getting invited out by your crew had just.. never really happened before, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t tonight,” pointing at the blank word document, “the menu is due next week and I uh- I have nothing but you guys have fun,” shooing him off.

It was a Thursday night and you couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up tomorrow with a blinding hangover.

“You need help with that menu shit? I mean, my sandwiches are a hit so.. maybe I could help?” placing his jacket on the old cabinet in the corner, prepared to help no matter what you replied.

You’re not exactly in the position to say no to help at this point..

“I mean.. yeah, if you can think of six amazing, brilliant, showstopping new dishes then be my guest because I sure as shit can’t,” unintentionally coming off a little rude.

It’s just frustrating, the first big step you were taking for this restaurant and you were still somehow managing to fuck it up

“Okay, what’ve you got?” he peers over your shoulder at the blank screen, “ah, right,” he sucks his teeth, “not great.”

“No.. no it’s not,” slouching down the chair, “I’m completely fucked,” pushing the loose strands of hair from your forehead.

“You’re not completely fucked- not yet,” dragging the spare chair around to the other side of the desk, “I’m sure we can think of something tonight,” pulling the laptop closer to him.

You smile at him, grateful for his positivity even if it was fake.

The pair of you throw some shoddy ideas back and forth for a half hour. None of them good enough to make it to the word document, instead getting scribbled onto a ripped out page from your notebook.

“I am fucked, aren’t I?” you frown, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

He chuckles softly, “nah.. there’s some good stuff here,” running his finger down the messy list.

You feel completely vulnerable with him here, it might have been the lack of sleep or just the fact that you appreciated his presence so much but you foolishly begin to let your thoughts wander.

“I just feel like I’m fuu-,” immediately regretting opening your mouth, “no, you know what? Doesn’t matter,” you look at the clock on the wall signalling that it had gone well past midnight, “you should get going, it’s late,” pretending to scroll on the still-bare document.

“No, what were you gonna say?”

You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your foot against the leg of the chair, “I said it doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does,” he pushes, egging you on.

You take a sharp intake of breath to signal that you weren’t willing to go any further with this. Why couldn’t he just fucking drop it?

“Oh my God, you started this conversation and now you don’t wanna finish it,” frustrated that it had seemed like you were finally beginning to seem like you were somewhat human, he grabs his discarded jacket, rolling his eyes as he starts to exit the office.

“I’m scared I’m not doing a good job… you all obviously care about this place and I’ve just come in here and ruined it,” biting down onto your bottom lip, “and as much as you all pretend to like me, I know you don’t and- and that’s fine,” you shrug, exasperated with the weight of a thousand bricks hanging onto your shoulders, “I don’t care about being liked, I just want this restaurant to work but it feels like I can’t even do that,” slumping forward, confounded and slightly in shock that the first person you’d spilled all of this to was fucking Eddie.

“I do like you,” he says quietly, stopping in his tracks, throwing his jacket back down, “everyone does… you’re making this restaurant better,” rejoining you at the desk, “we’re all just stubborn and mean so no one’s told you but you’re doing good,” a reassuring smile overcoming his lips, his hand wavers, unsure of whether to reach out to touch your shoulder or if that was a step too far.

He flops back into the chair and you offer him a genuine smile for his words. It was really all you could muster without starting to cry. Coming into an already established restaurant with new ideas and ways of working was never easy but to be met with such pushback from him had made it even harder. So to now have him say in front of you, telling you that what you’re doing is right, well it meant the world.

“Thank you,” you mouth, blinking earnestly as you flip the laptop lid shut, it was too late and you were far too tired to even try to continue. “That really means a lot from you,” attempting to turn your vulnerability into a joke.

“I mean it, though,”scooting closer on the chair, “I just enjoy arguing with you too much to admit it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, that much was true, he definitely enjoyed getting under your hair and pissing you off as much as he could.

“We should go, it’s super late and I’ve got all day tomorrow to do this,” sliding the pen into the pot, feeling his eyes still boring into the side of your face.

You stand from your seat, expecting him to follow but he stays firmly planted in his chair. Hand reaching out to grab your wrist as you grab your bag. Jolting away as you’re not expecting the sudden contact.

He swallows, standing up before deciding whether to just fuck it or if this was about to get him fired. You’re blissfully unaware that this internal battle was even happening until his hand is on your cheek, tilting your chin upwards before closing the distance between your bodies, smashing his lips to yours.

Oh shit.

It takes a second for your brain to process what was happening but you don’t.. dislike it. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, sliding his tongue into your parted mouth with a quickness.

Leaning into the kiss, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on his shoulders. You’re taken aback by how easy it feels, moving together just right. The small of your back crashes into the rigid desk, pulling you out of the kiss and back into reality. Staring back at his darkened eyes with a slight bemused expression.

“No.. not here,” squeezing his shoulder. His hand paused on your shirt button, getting ahead of himself. Maybe you had found yourself wanting to fuck Eddie but not here. You weren’t that stupid.

His hand falls, swinging to his side, “oh.. you didn’t- did I fuck up?” still mere inches from your face, so close in fact, you could feel his breath on your flushed cheek.

“No.. no, I just..” deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, “do you wanna go back to my apartment? It’s not far,” blinded by the haze of lust that was filling the small room to the brim.

His eyes grow wide, realising exactly what you meant, buzzing with impatience and excitement. “Yes.. yeah I’d love to,” his plump lips still wet with the remnants of your mouth.

You nod, letting go of his shoulder to gather your things, and yourself, before pulling him out of the restaurant. Eddie is more than willing to leave his van in the parking lot, jumping into your car with an primal eagerness.

The car journey is quiet and you wonder if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. What would everyone at work say? Maybe they didn’t have to know? This could be a one time thing and you’ll both just never mention it again. Well, you hope anyway.

You think your head might just burst the second he walks into your apartment, somewhere you had never expected Eddie to ever appear.

You’re quick to continue the abandoned kiss, not giving him any opportunity to make wise cracks about your apartment. It somehow felt easier if it was just mindless sex where you didn’t speak.

Guiding him towards your bedroom because the couch felt just a tad too casual. His hands are everywhere, sneaking underneath your blouse and then back down into the waistband of your pants. You shove him backwards onto your bed, clambering on top quickly so as to not give him a chance to start speaking or to do anything stupid.

Eddie’s obviously not keen on giving you the higher ground, gripping onto your waist and flipping the both of you so that he led on top. He’s got this devilish grin on his face that is so smug, you just want to slap it off of him. You chase the taste of his mouth with yours, becoming accustomed to the mixture of cigarettes and mint. God, you hope this doesn’t become a regular thing.

He pulls away from you to gawp down the space between your bodies, mouth hung open, gasping for breath while his fingers skillfully unbutton your pants, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, “woah… when the hell d’you get that?” staring at the black ink covering your thigh, a rose curling around the length of your flesh.

A dumb decision you’d made the first week of culinary school. You felt out of place alongside the other chefs who were absolutely covered in tattoos and felt the need to join them. Except, you hadn’t exactly thought about it and just went along with the first thing the dodgy artist had suggested. He’d also quite purposely left out just how much such a large piece would fucking hurt, especially for a first tattoo.

You join him in looking down at it, curling your lips in disgust, “when I was like… eighteen, it’s ugly and I hate it so thank you,” continuing your task of getting his jacket off, ignoring the fact that he was still ogling the inking and slightly starting to regret your decision to bring him here.

“It’s fucking sick, what are you talking about?” he’s smirking, running his fingers along the thick lining as your pants hang around your knees, “I thought you were like… boring,” finding the hem of your lacy underwear and tugging on it.

Your lips hover above his, eyes hooded as you glare at him, “can you just shut up before I regret everything and make you leave?”

He nods instantaneously, connecting your lips with a quickness, shaking his jacket off of his arm and onto the floor with a thud. Repositioning his knees to either side of your thighs, you’d done a good job of getting your shirt half-off, his fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons as you break from his lips, leaving wet kisses along his stubbly jawline.

“Holy fuck, you’re joking?” his eyes just about popping out of his head as your pierced nipples spill out of your bra. Another spontaneous teenage decision you hadn’t got round to getting rid of yet.

His hand is immediately drawn to your exposed breast, full of pure glee, “you’re a dark horse, you know that right?” thumb running over the erect nipple as you fumble with his tattered old belt.

Your mouth opens to protest his ogling but is quickly replaced with a soft gasp, his thumb working miracles on the sensitive bud. Head falling back against the pillow when his lips replace his thumb, licking and sucking on your nipple with a wicked grin.

“Shit,” you moan, his growing erection rutting against your core, “can you- please hurry up,” it sounds strangled coming from your throat, embarrassed that you’ve completely melted into a pile of putty beneath him. If you’d have known that his mouth could be put to such good use, maybe you’d have tried this earlier.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, leaving one last kitten lick to your chest before rushing to get his pants down. Kicking them off to the side somewhere, the clunk of his belt buckle hitting your bed frame on the way down.

“Oh baby, that all for me?” remarking on your absolutely sodden underwear, hurriedly pulling them down your thighs, before using the same hand to position himself at your dripping entrance.

You’re too desperate to think of anything smart to say back, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d probably just start begging.

His face mere inches from yours as he pushes himself inside, a groan from somewhere deep in his chest falls out, “Jesus Christ,” he stutters, willing himself not to cum right now. Sex is always better with someone you detested. Now why is that?

Your arms loosely knot around his neck, intertwining your fingers with his hair, trying your utmost to hold eye contact as his hips begin to move. Slow at first, reaching the hilt before pulling back and sliding in, it’s excruciatingly slow and your legs tighten around his waist, begging for more.

“Faster.. please Eddie,” whining as his pace quickens, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah yeah.. yeah, say my name,” he blabbers, one hand sliding between your, thumb tapping against your swollen clit before rubbing tiny circles to the sensitive surface.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling incredibly full as his tip nudges against that soft, spongy spot. Your eyes squeeze shut, illuminated with an illustration of stars and white hot light. Your heart wasn’t eager to just adhere to his demands like that but shit, when he sounded this desperate, you couldn’t help it.

Chanting his name like an oath in time with his thrusts. The filthy sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanying the strained groans coming from his throat. It was far too late and your neighbours could surely hear every single thing.

“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his hips stutter, “you gonna cum for me? Huh?” dropping his forehead to rest against yours.

Your thighs squeeze around his torso at the words, feeling yourself grow closer to your impending orgasm. His thumb still expertly rubbing your clit, slow but deep thrusts as he nears his own end. Your brain too hazy to think coherently about anything as you tighten around him, overcome with the blinding pleasure of your orgasm.

“Yesyesyes,” you garble, trembling as you come undone completely, back arching from the mattress which brings your bodies impossibly close. Tugging gently on his curls as a means of encouragement, not that he needed it.

“Ohhh fuck yeah.. shit,” unable to stop himself in time, spurting thick ropes of cum inside of you. You’re too fucked out to truly think about the implications yet, still gasping for air as he pumps his cock a few measly times before pulling out and sitting up on his knees.

His wild hair stuck to his moist forehead as he looms above, trying to catch his own breath between your knees. “I’m so sorry.. you’re not.. you can’t get pregnant, can you?” one hand coming to rest on your thigh.

Your eyes roll on their own, accelerating back to Earth at an insane pace, “no,” reshuffling so you laid comfortably on the pillow, “but you can’t do that again,” glaring up at him without any realisation as to what you just said.

“Again?” his brows raise, still poised between your legs, “there’s a next time?”

You huff, turning on your side, away from Eddie and his stupid doe eyes and that ridiculous smirk. Reaching down to grab a shirt from your bedside table while he chuckles to himself.

Ashamedly, your heart skips a beat when he slides in behind you, pressing his body into yours. You were losing it, and embarrassingly quickly too. Ah fuck.

A hand snaking around your waist pulls you from your sleep and for a brief moment you start to think someone had broken in and decided to crawl into bed with you. Until said hand creeps down to your hip and those lips you’d hung off last night press a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” you grumble, placing your hand atop of his to stop it creeping into the waistband of your shorts.

“Ah c’mon..” frowning against your back, “best way to start a long day.”

“I have to get ready for work, so do you actually,” keeping your head firmly on the pillow, there were no real intentions of getting up. Not yet.

“Hmm.. five minutes,” hand descending even with yours on top, his smirk evident, dripping through his words. You shudder as his hand reaches your cunt, leaning backwards into his chest, ever so slightly parting your legs.

“Five minutes,” you agree, fully acknowledging that you were slipping into dangerous territory here.

“Did you fuck Helen too?” you ask, not really wanting to know the answer but just having to know if you were right in your stereotyping.

Every kitchen had one. The one that seemed to make their way around everyone eventually. You were sure Eddie was that one and you were the last on his hit list.

“What? Helen was like fifty dude,” messing with the volume dial on the radio.

“So? Did you?”

He’s silent for a second, throwing his hands into the air, “it was one time,” raging that you’d caught him out on such a baseless accusation.

“I knew it,” nodding smugly to yourself, he most definitely has the aura of the kitchen bike and that was for sure.

“Yeah but… you’re like actually hot and I know what you’re thinking but no, I am not a slut… it was once and we were drunk and that was it, so you can shut up,” deciding to turn the stereo off, not a fan of your choice of Taylor Swift records.

“I’m like… actually hot?” mimicking his tone.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, of course that’d be the only part of the sentence you picked up on, “hon, you don’t notice me pop a boner everytime we argue?”

Your face screws up, unsure of whether to take it as a compliment or if you should be speaking to HR, “wasn’t generally looking in that direction if I’m honest,” swinging round into the car park, just past Eddie’s abandoned van, “thanks though… I think,” smiling at him as you gather your things.

“It was a compliment, by the way,” stepping out of your car, tapping the doors of his rusty old van before walking inside, going on and on about Peggy (his van) and how important she was to him.

You’re not entirely paying attention as you walk into the kitchen, startled by the presence of somebody already clattering about in there. Eddie follows closely behind, just as confused as you that anybody sane would be here this early.

“Hello?” you call out, rounding the corner to spot Marcus who had taken it upon himself to come in early to start prep, making a monumental mess of the counter.

“Oh yeah, hey… I wanted to start now ‘cause I need to leave early- you two came in together?” perplexed by the sight of Eddie peering over your shoulder, the batter covered wooden spoon pointed at the pair of you.

“Right… er- his van broke down last night and I said I’d give him a ride,” nodding at your obviously fabricated story, looking to Eddie for some back up.

He nods along happily, “I’m gonna take a look at ‘er later, fingers crossed or you’ll be givin’ me rides all week,” slinking away into the locker room with a sly smirk on his face, thankfully hidden by the shoddy wall as he winks.

“God forbid,” you quip back, scrunching up your nose as you leave the two of them and make your way to the office, throwing your bag onto the cluttered desk and collapsing onto the desk chair.

You had to get this damn menu done by Friday or you were completely, utterly fucked. Already three days behind on the schedule, you’d be lucky if you even made it home tonight. Flinging the discarded laptop lid open to be met with the very much blank menu once again. An email pings through that makes your heart jump. It must’ve gone unseen when you were otherwise occupied last night.

Hello,

I hope this email finds you well.

I just wanted to confirm that Joan will be in attendance on May 18th as per your invitation. She is looking forward to trying the new menu and will subsequently write a review expecting to be published on or around the 20th.

Thank you,

Imogen Smart, The Indianapolis Star

Oh shit oh fuck oh balls.

It had slipped your mind that you’d even invited her along to try the new menu. What a colossal mistake this would turn out to be.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You’re slouched over the desk, head in your hands when Eddie creeps through the open door, startling you when he speaks, “you good?” making his way to the desk, leering down to look at the screen as if it was any of his business.

“I really do not have time for you right now,” smoothing out your new-found forehead wrinkles. You never had time for his bullshit but you certainly did not have time for them now.

“Eh, what the fuck? I was inside of you like three hours ago and now you’re being weird again?”

“Shhh- shut up,” you whisper-shout, the chair rolling back as you stand rather ferociously, staring at the gap in the door and just praying that Marcus was too busy doing whatever the fuck he was doing to hear.

“Jesus… chill out,” his hands are on your shoulders, soothing your nerves irregardless of how much you cared to admit it.

You blink at him, cheeks burning, “I just- I have so much to do today, this critic is coming and I still haven’t finished the men-”

Your sentence is rudely interrupted with his soft lips pressing against yours, caressing your cheek with his rough hand. It’s automatic, but you’re leaning into it, finding yourself gripping onto his bicep as he nudges you back towards the desk. It’s probably a good thing that your tailbone smacks into the sharp edge, pushing him from you as you come back to planet Earth.

“Stop.. stop,” gently squeezing his arm, the other consoling your throbbing spine, “I need you out there today, okay? You’re gonna have to take charge, get shit done and do not bother me unless that kitchen is on fire or you’ve cut your arm off, okay?” lowering your head to meet his eyeline.

“My arm? That’s a bit extreme,” deciding to turn your high stress situation into a joke.

“Yes your arm, finger you can deal with, capiche?”

“Yes ma’am,” hand lingering on the small of your back, “you sure you’re good?”

You exhale slowly and perhaps a tad too harshly snap, “yes.. I’m okay, now unless you have a brand new menu for me.. get out,” sweetening the blow with a sickly smile, motioning for him to leave.

“Okay okay..” he begins walking to the door, “I’m in charge, right?” ever the opportunist.

“Yes, but do not make me regret it,” flashing him a warning look.

“Sweet,” winking at you as he slips out of the door, rubbing his hands together like the little demon he is. You roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart thuds with affection.

Whatever was blossoming had the potential to fuck up every single good thing you’d done for this place, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to at least see how far you could go before total chaos.

- p2

You had meant for it to be casual. Like a few times a month sorta thing. And yet somehow you’re sat with your head on Eddie’s shoulder, half asleep as the gory horror film he’d picked plays on.

It had started that way, to be fair. After a stressful day or on a quick lunch break you’d catch him and pull him into the office. It’s no surprise really that it didn’t take long for the rest of the kitchen to catch on.

But back to right now, you’re only supposed to be resting your eyes as you lean into his shoulder. He smelt like kitchen, cigarettes and the new cologne you’d bought for him as his old one was quite frankly disgusting and had irritated your nose. He jolts upright when the screen flashes, knocking you from his shoulder and rudely pulling you out of your slumber.

“You’re a prick,” you mumble, glowering in his direction before opting for the opposite side of the sofa, the side that wasn’t rude.

He snorts but quickly realises that you are very serious and very much not happy, “I’m sorry.. come sleep on me again,” pleading with you, “or d’you wanna go to bed?” clicking the pause button on the remote.

“I wanted to go to bed an hour ago,” grumbling into the cushion as he’d ignored your request and swore that you’d just love this new movie. You didn’t. It was fucking boring.

“Okay okay, let’s go to bed,” he shuts the television off before standing from the couch, towering over your curled up body, “I’m not fuckin’ carrying you,” already wise to your tricks.

You groan something incoherently, something deeply offensive to his entire bloodline, before pulling yourself from the couch. “You know, if we’d gone to bed when I’d asked, I would’ve let you put it in my ass,” shrugging innocently before leading the way to your bedroom.

“Wait what? You didn’t say- I didn’t know that was an option!” speed-walking to catch up with you, incredibly eager to figure out if this offer was still on the table.

It was not.

“Yup, shame really.. you should probably listen to me more,” clambering into the unmade bed with the tiniest smirk on your face.

He’s not far behind, leaping into your bed, “we can still do that though, right? It’s only..” glancing at your alarm clock, “..two” he doesn’t even sound sure of himself.

“Nope,” pulling the blanket over your shoulders, purposely choosing to face the other way, “you missed your chance buddy.”

Whoever had done the ordering (you) had royally fucked up and left tomatoes off of the list. So as a consequence of your stupidity, you were now in Bradley’s trying to balance ten packets of stupid fucking tomatoes in your arms.

You’re not even looking where you're going, too focused on not dropping the damn horrid red things as you skulk through the store. It’s already too late when you bash the elbow of some innocent bystander, knocking multiple packets to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grumble, grabbing at the discarded fruits with your spare hand.

The kind gentleman had already started to try and balance them back in your arms. You look up to thank the stranger to be met with a face you hadn’t seen since high school.

“Steve Harrington? I- what the fuck?” you remark, clutching onto the produce so as to not cause another collapse.

“Holy shit, it’s you,” he’s utterly dumbfounded, staring back at your face in amazement.

You’re suddenly extremely aware of your dirty uniform and messy hair, eyeing his well pressed suit and just general put-togetherness. His hair still perfectly styled though just a bit shorter now.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you lived in Indiana anymore?” the last you’d heard of him, his father had sent him away to his office in New York, desperate for his son to have the life he never had.

“Ah.. well, I do now, bit of a long story,” chuckling awkwardly as he takes the majority of your tomatoes to the counter, lightening the load.

“Oh well, that’s cool..” you nod to the cashier who asks if you’d like a bag or multiple bags in your case, “I’d love to catch up but I’ve got a bit of a tomato crisis, uh..” digging in your pocket for the company card.

“Yeah definitely… here let me,” he grabs one of the jam packed bags under his arm, “I’m gonna assume these aren’t all for you?” leading the way to the parking lot.

“Oh no, I fucking hate tomatoes.. I messed up at work so it’s my job to fix it,” loading the bags into your dusty old car, “here, take my number and we can plan something.. it’s been so long,” grabbing for your phone in your apron.

“I uh- I actually have your number,” he nods, not bothering to get his own phone out.

“I’ve changed my number since high school, Steve.”

“No, yeah I know.. I got it from Robin, I was s’posed to call you when I got back..” rubbing his thumb along his forehead and into his hair, “I’ll give you a call later and we can do something,” smiling softly as he closes your back door.

“Oh, okay.. yes please call me, I- uh I really have to get back,” sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling with your keys, as you roll the window down to continue the conversation.

“I will, I hope your tomato crisis.. gets better,” shrugging awkwardly as you start the engine. Wincing at his choice of words.

“Me fucking too,” rolling your eyes as you pull off, not entirely registering what had just happened, focused on getting these stupid vegetables back to the restaurant.

It’s not until an unknown number flashes up on your screen that you think about it again. He’d left it until you were right in the middle of stuffing dinner down your throat to call of course.

“Hello?” you muffle into the phone, chewing on the lukewarm piece of chicken.

“Hey! It’s Steve.. you said to call so.. I called,” he sounds nervous, like he was calling a stranger and not you.

“Oh hey.. sorry I’m eating,” covering your mouth as you loudly swallow, “how are you?”

“Yeah I’m good, hope your crisis turned out okay,” laughing into the receiver.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.. thank you for your help, you saved me from squishing a ton of tomatoes.”

“Of course,” he clears his throat, “would you wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? I take it you’re busy with your.. tomatoes but I’m free pretty much whenever.”

“Yes.. yes erm-,” you set the phone onto loudspeaker and flit through the bookings for tomorrow, it wasn’t insanely busy and you were sure they would manage without you for an hour or so, “does ten sound good for you?”

“Ten is perfect,” you can hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you there then, enjoy your dinner,” still sounding as awkward as ever.

“Okay.. I’ll see you then, then,” making a mental note for tomorrow that you’d probably end up forgetting anyway.

You end the call, locking your phone and finally giving all your attention to the cold plate of food in front of you.

“Who was that?” Eddie appears out of nowhere, frowning as he walks into the office.

“Hmm? Oh, my friend Steve,” devouring the chicken without a second thought as to why he was even questioning it.

“Your friend? That you’re going for coffee with…?”

“Were you listening to my conversation?” blinking up at him.

“No.. I overheard you- don’t change the subject, you’re ditching work for a date?” he’s scowling, coming to perch on the desk.

“It’s not a date,” you warn, prodding the fork into his rib, “he’s a friend from school and we’re catching up while it’s quiet tomorrow, is that okay with you?” shaking your head, not that you were genuinely asking for his approval.

He narrows his eyes, “I suppose..” he takes the fork from your hand, helping himself to your dinner, “it’s just coffee?” asking tentatively as his greedy ass tucks in.

“Oh my God yes, it’s just coffee,” he was incredibly jealous for someone who was not your boyfriend.

“Okay okay.. sheesh, no need to get defensive.. date whoever you want,” shrugging as if he couldn’t care less.

“You’re the one getting jealous, not my fault you never ask me to go for coffee.”

“Because we spend every waking moment together anyway,” repetitively banging his heel into the desk, irritating you to no end. “But I’ll make sure to ask you to go for coffee from now on.. don’t want some loser taking my place.”

You huff, pulling the plate away from his greedy hands, “are you done?”

He shuffles backwards, still picking at your food despite your obvious attempts to get it away from him. “Okay okay.. I’m done.”

Eddie, in fact, does not drop it.

He’s still pouting when you climb into bed, sighing to himself like a pathetic old dog. Except now, he’d become desperate and slightly weird about it. Making all sorts of promises and hypothetical dates for you two to go on.

“Why don’t we go for coffee tomorrow? I’ll even pay,” walking his fingers along your side.

“Eddie please, can you stop? Who am I in bed with right now? Because it’s not Steve, I can tell you that,” exasperated by his incessant attempts to piss you off.

“Okay.. okayy,” retiring this tired bit for the night at long last, “you’re still taking me to work, right?” settling his hand on your waist, cuddling into your back.

“Yes, you bum,” switching the lamp off before setting your head on the pillow.

“I’m not a bum,” feeling him frown against your back, “it’s not my fault you refuse to get in my van.”

“It’s a death trap, I’d rather risk walking along the highway,” smiling into the darkness.

“Yeah whatever, good night,” he mumbles, pretending to be pissed off until you feel the tiniest, sweetest kiss to your shoulder.

You’re running late, as usual. Something about the bookings being fucked for tonight meaning you were either going to have a full restaurant or have absolutely no one show up.

It didn’t matter to you, not right now anyway because you’re jogging along the sidewalk to get to the dang café before Steve thinks you’ve abandoned him.

You’re huffing and puffing when you shove open the door, making a royal fool of yourself as anyone would believe you’ve just sprinted in a marathon to get here.

Steve jolts up the second he hears the door go, giving you a small wave from his table in the corner. It’s a relief that he hadn’t just up and left considering you were fifteen minutes late.

“I am so so sorry,” you say hurriedly, sliding into the other chair, “another crisis and obviously I’m the only one who’s capable of fixing things so..” you stop your rambling to look at him properly, “sorry- you don’t care, shit did you order?”

He chuckles nervously, “yeah.. I didn’t know what you wanted so I didn’t get you anything,” he stands up, “what d’ya get?”

“Uhh a cappuccino would be great.. thanks,” setting your bag down on the vacant chair beside you.

You chat about nothing and everything for a while until Steve turns the conversation back to high school. Now, you and Steve had a weird relationship during high school; hung around the same group, had a massive crush on the guy and was pretty certain that he at least liked you too. It had just never amounted to anything.

“I remember in school, you always used to cook shit for us.. it’s crazy that you’ve got your own restaurant now,” shaking his head in slight disbelief.

You’d bring tupperware full to the brim with whatever random shit you’d cooked up the night before. Forcing your friends to eat it and share their opinions no matter how harsh they could be.

“It’s not really my restaurant,” sipping the cappuccino he’d kindly bought, “I just run it and make sure it doesn’t burn down or go bankrupt,” laughing to yourself.

“So it’s technically yours..” fingers fiddling around with the empty sugar packet, “I’ll have to come by sometime, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

“I mean, I could probably get you in tomorrow.. if you wanted?”

“Well yeah, that sounds great,” smiling earnestly across the table.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later but you should definitely bring your wife, I’d love to meet her,” you vaguely remember seeing the extravagant wedding pictures on Facebook a few years back.

You hadn’t paid much attention as to who he’d married just recalled noticing the absolutely gargantuan manor house in the back and how stunning her dress was.

His smile fades and his mouth opens to speak but doesn’t manage to squeeze anything out. You get the feeling that that might have been the wrong thing to say. Immediately wanting to slide down your seat and hide under the table.

Steve takes it well though, laughing softly, “Ah.. not anymore but uh- thank you for bringing that back up,” playfully shaking his head.

“Oh no, oh my God.. I’m sorry,” grimacing because of your big fat mouth, “I thought I’d seen it on Facebook but maybe that wasn’t you.. oh fuck.”

“No.. it probably was me, we just- yeah not anymore,” wiggling his empty hand in your direction, only just now are you noticing the lack of a ring.

“I’m sorry,” smiling apologetically, “I’ve gotta ask though.. what happened?”

He sits back in his chair, preparing for the absolute novel of a story he was about to tell, “well, my dad moved me to New York, wanted me to learn how to be a man or whatever,” waving his arms about, “and I met the love of my life- I thought I met the love of my life.. we got married and it was great for a little while but she..” he inhales, recalling the still bitter memories, “..obviously didn’t feel the same way,” you’re sat eager eyed, waiting for the real gossip, “she was fucking her boss.. whole time.”

“Shittt…” baring your teeth in a pained expression, “that’s awful Steve, I’m so sorry,” gingerly patting his outstretched arm, “what a bitch.”

He nods along, “yeah she is,” his fingers drum a rhythm into the table, “that’s why I’m back here… I’m sick of New York.”

“God,” guilt rising into your chest for being the one to bring that back up, “at least you’re home now, right? Must be nice seeing everyone again,” your eyes flitting to your phone that had lit up for the umpteenth time.

eds:) : when r u coming back??

eds:) : helloooo?

eds:) : stop fucking ur boyfriend and come back 2 work

eds:) : i’m being serious now we need u

Steve follows your gaze to your phone screen, realising that you’d been sitting here for a while now and he’d just pulled you from your work to talk about his messy divorce. “Work?”

You look back at him, “yeah.. I’m gonna have to run, but I’ll get you a table for tomorrow,” pushing your chair back, grabbing for your bag, “bring whoever.. I’ll text you the details!” offering him a small smile as you rush out of the busy cafe not bothering to wait for his reply.

Eddie is just as irritating as expected when you get back, hanging off of your arm the second you walk in the door.

“So, you just had coffee? You were gone a long time, man,” an attempt to play off his jealousy, though it was hardly working.

“Don’t call me man, and yep, just coffee. Like I’ve said a hundred times before,” hanging up your bag and tying the apron around your waist.

“Right.. he wasn’t tryna do anything though, was he? ‘Cause I can tell him straight if you need me to,” hanging around your ankles like a lost puppy dog.

“He’s in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think you need to do anything, big boy,” gently patting his arm.

“Ohh so that’s why he’s back and trying to fuck you now.. I get his game.”

You turn to face him, sandwiched between his body and the rusty lockers, “will you just relax? Please,” running your hands down his chest.

Eddie frowns slightly, but nods, “he’s got nothin’ on me anyway..” a silhouette of a smirk forming on his face, “you know who’s givin’ it to ya good,” planting his lips on yours before you get the chance to express your utter disgust.

You’re smiling when he pulls back but push him away from you regardless, “do not ever say that shit to me again,” tightening the straps around your waist, walking away from the freak and into whatever hell awaits you in the kitchen.

It’s not very surprising that Steve comes in alone, your heart aches a little seeing him sat at the table on his own.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is watching your face with a foul scowl on his. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you announce that you’re going to see how he is, practically snarling at the thought.

He knows the dish in front of him is Steve’s order, he’d audibly criticised the fact that Steve had removed the mushrooms from his food, is he a fucking toddler or something?

His eyes dart around the room, pursing his lips as he prepares to maybe just let the glob of spit fall out of his mouth and accidentally into Steve’s childish dinner.

“Don’t,” Tina’s hand clamps over his mouth, stopping his despicable plans in motion.

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he protests, glowering at his co-worker. He definitely was going to do it and she knew it.

“Leave him alone,” flashing him that universally understood look that tells him not to even dare, “can you blame her, though? Meow,” grinning as her eyes flicker to you and Steve through the tiny window.

Eddie kisses the back of his teeth, whipping the dish towel at her, “ha ha very funny,” she’s desperate to rile him up as much as possible, taunting him with her mean quips.

His eyes slide to the window, met with the image of you absolutely cracking up at something Steve had said. It was the kinda laugh he loved to force out of you, usually late at night when you were overly tired and a little hazy. Unheard by most people. It was a slight comfort to know that Steve definitely wasn’t that funny, he could almost bank on it.

It’s like torture watching the pair of you interact for what feels like forever. Pulling his eyes away, deciding to go for a cigarette instead of putting himself through any more of that.

The air outside is still, it’s getting colder again but it seemed like Indiana was still hanging onto the dregs of summer; the sky illuminated with streaks of pink and orange. Maybe that’s what he was doing? Desperately clawing to keep your thing alive all the while you were trying to wriggle out of it.

He’s harshly pulled out of his self-pitying cloud, “Eddie?” you call out of the door, bounding over to where he was slouched against the brick wall, “thank you for doing that.. he said it’s great,” your toothy grin making an appearance.

Eddie grunts something in response, trying desperately not to think of you smiling at Steve like that.

“What? You okay? Why’re you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” he shrugs, lying through his teeth. He couldn’t help it, his heart twisting and contorting with every mention of that prick's name.

“Yes you are,” sighing softly, “you’re actually jealous? I thought you were just joking,” stepping toward him as he throws the cigarette to the floor.

His eyes eventually find yours, “I’m not.. jealous,” curling his finger into the bow of your apron strap, using it to pull you in, “I don’t get jealous,” another blatant lie.

“Mhm is that right?” you giggle, his behaviour over the past few days had proven that statement to be false. Wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek begins to rest on his chest.

Desperately trying to convince himself that this is a sign. That if you’d really wanted to, you’d be in there, doing this with Steve. But you’re not. You’re here. You’re clinging onto him and everything is fine.

The door handle at the front of the store rattles a couple times before whoever is behind it gives up and knocks, you all look at each other slightly confused before Eddie takes the plunge and goes to answer. You’re standing behind the counter with a guarded expression, not prepared for whatever crazy was trying to get in at stupid o’clock in the morning.

Steve is standing behind the open door with an apologetic smile, holding up a takeaway cup obviously bought for you. Eddie is less than thrilled, skulking back into the kitchen with the most horrendous scowl plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve text first,” kicking the door shut behind him, offering out the warm cup for you to take.

You breathe a sigh of relief, “yeah.. that would’ve been a good idea, thank you though,” gladly taking his offering.

“I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I didn’t catch you before I left so thought I’d stop by,” sipping on his own coffee, poised in the middle of the restaurant floor.

Eddie’s stood leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen from the front of house, arms crossed against his chest. Disapproving glare set solidly on Steve.

“Yeah absolutely, I’m glad you liked it,” smiling fondly at the man, sipping appreciatively on your cappuccino.

“I uh- I have a question for you,” his eyes flit to Eddie who was still stood with his eyes narrowed, scowling, “in private.. if that’s alright?”

You spin to look at Eddie, nodding towards the back, “I’ll meet you in my office in a minute,” shooing him off, “please.”

He snarls back at you, looking back over his shoulder to shoot daggers into Steve before eventually disappearing into the kitchen. For someone acting so jealous, you’d think you’d have been in a committed relationship for years.

Rolling your eyes as you trundle closer to Steve, “ignore him.”

“He a handful?”

“Mm and a mouthful sometimes,” perching on one of the tables, totally oblivious to your innuendo.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, blinking ferociously as you finally catch on.

“Oh no- I just meant he’s like.. rude,” stumbling over your words, cheeks beginning to burn.

“I know what you meant,” Steve assures, though he looked a little flustered himself.

Your eyes squeeze shut, “just continue,” rolling your hand, desperate for him to forget you’d opened your mouth.

He clears his throat, “so I was talking to my buddy.. he owns Garson’s in the city and he was saying there’s a spot opening for a sous,” glancing at you, “I just mentioned your name and I’ll give you his number but he said he’d love to meet you,” his mouth twitching into a smile.

Well, that was not at all what you were expecting.

In fact, it was a massive curveball ball that you’d not rehearsed a response to.

Garson’s was insane, they’d just earned their first star and everybody who was anybody was trying to get a reservation. It would be career defining to even stage there.

“Oh wow… Steve I actually don’t know how to reply to that,” placing your coffee onto the table in fear of dropping it on the floor.

“Well obviously think about it, I’ll text you his details later, he seemed pretty eager to get someone in so.. don’t take too long,” drumming his fingers onto the table.

“Yeah.. right, holy shit,” you remark, trying to take it all in. It’s unclear what to even say to him in this situation, thank you seemed too small but slathering his face in kisses was probably a step too far.

“I gotta go, let me know what you decide,” his smile honest and genuine as he grabs his coffee and heads to the door.

Just before he slips out, you jump back into action, “thank you!” beaming with pure unadulterated joy.

He nods, disappearing into the street as the door slams shut behind him.

You can barely contain yourself, practically skipping through the kitchen to go and find Eddie who you were absolutely certain was not going to share the same level of excitement you possessed.

“What’s got you so happy? He ask you out on a real date finally?” turning up his nose without you saying a word.

“Noo..” you chime in, still riding the high, kicking the door shut behind you, traipsing over to rest your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “so.. Steve said there’s a position going in Garson’s and it’s basically mine if I want it..” struggling to contain your grin.

His hands falter, brushing down your sides to now hang limp beside him, “what?” Unsure if what he had heard had been correct.

“There’s a job at Garson’s and it’s basically mine.. isn’t that great?” grabbing at the back of his neck. You were expecting a little more happiness than this, you can’t lie.

He looks almost offended. Features screwed up in pure confusion, as if you’d insulted his mother. “So you’re leaving? Some fancy job pops up from your fancy pants boyfriend and you’re suddenly abandoning us?”

“Wha- no? I’m not abandoning anybody,” removing your arms from his shoulder, “this is an opportunity to actually do something with my career, show everyone what I’m capable of,” you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just pretend to be happy for you.

He stands up, the chair making a god-awful noise behind him, “so you get to come in here, change everything and then jump ship as soon as something better comes along?” eyes that once looked at you with pure adoration now full of disgust.

You’re gobsmacked. Utterly speechless that he was acting like such a petulant jerk. You hadn’t seen this side of him since that night so many months ago in this very office.

“Eddie, what has got into you? This is good news! You didn’t expect me to stay here forever, did you?”

“I don’t know,” exasperated, “I just didn’t expect you to run to the next best thing so soon,” he looks venomous, mean.

“I’m not! He’s my friend and he’s helping me out.. why are you being like this?” he may as well have torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it in front of you.

Eddie scoffs, running a hand over his mouth, “your friend… who you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly has this great new job for you and has absolutely no ulterior motive? Ha, right.”

It finally clicks in your brain, he doesn’t really give a shit whether you stay or go. This was about hating Steve and being a jealous loser despite still not asking you to be his girlfriend.

“That’s what this is about? You think Steve.. what? That he wants to fuck me? You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

“It’s not about that,” raising his voice, chest puffed out. This was the Eddie you’d met and hated six months ago. You were sure you’d never have to deal with that prick again. “I don’t.. I don’t care what or who you do, I just think you’re a traitor and I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.”

Your face falls, blinking rapidly as the tears prick in your eyes. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat. He could be an evil prick when he wanted to be and before, it never would’ve upset you this much. But now it felt personal, like you’d let him in only for him to use everything you’d told him against you.

“Get out,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction at least, waiting until the door is slammed in your face to let them fall.

Humiliated and utterly pathetic as you flop into the chair, letting the tears fall free.

If he was trying to convince you to stay, then he’d failed. Majorly.

You’re hidden in the office for the remainder of the day. Courtesy of Eddie’s horrible words.

And he’s just a ray of sunshine in the kitchen. Clattering about as he drops pans, recklessly launching knives and utensils onto the counter.

Marcus has had enough of his tantrum, tapping on his shoulder, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” steering Eddie towards the back alley.

He slides down the brick wall, cigarette poised between his lips while Marcus mouths something to the rest of the beady eyed staff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asks, he’s genuine but stern. Has talked the boy down a multitude of times but this seemed different.

“She’s fucking leaving..” blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth, “some stuck up restaurant that dickhead Steve got her into.. that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Marcus’ mouth opens but doesn’t speak, deciding to get down to Eddie’s level, perching next to him on the floor, “and why’s that made you so angry? She break up with you as well or somethin’?” struggling to understand why he cares so much.

“No,” Eddie glowers at the floor, “you can’t break up if you’re not together. I’m just.. I’m pissed off, she came in here.. changed everything and now she gets to just move on like it’s nothing.”

Poor Marcus is trying to piece it all together in his head. Settling on the only sensible conclusion that maybe whatever was going on between you and him was perhaps a hell of a lot deeper than either of you were admitting.

“So.. you’re pissed that she made this shithole better? You sure that’s it?” questioning the validity of Eddie’s anger.

“What’re you tryna say?” Eddie snaps, gritting his teeth together. How dare Marcus not believe his incredibly flimsy words?

“That you’re not really angry ‘cause she’s moving on, you’re pissed because of this new guy and you think he’s.. he’s gonna take your spot or something? I can see right through you bro,” clapping his hand emphatically on Eddie’s shoulder, having caught him red handed.

Eddie glares at the man, snarling but unable to respond. Because he was right. Eddie is a pathetic, insecure loser who can’t bring himself to just admit to you that he was jealous of Steve. It was easier for him to just make you hate him than to be honest with you about how he felt, at least that way you didn’t have the opportunity to shut him down. You couldn’t reject him if you didn’t know.

“You’re gonna fuck this up forever if you keep acting like this,” Marcus sighs, getting up from the floor, “get in there and apologise or you’ll just push her right into his arms and I really don’t wanna deal with you if that happens,” flashing him a stern but well-meaning glare before disappearing back into the kitchen.

His eyes squeeze shut, and as much as he didn’t want to hear that, he knew he was right. Self-sabotage had always been his forte except this time he was truly terrified of the possibility of losing you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

There’s a quiet knock on your office door and you’re just about prepared to bite the head off of whoever dares to disturb you.

“Come in,” you bark, dropping the pen onto the desk in frustration.

A very meek Eddie peeks around the door, testing the waters to decide if it’s safe to fully come in without you throwing something at him.

Nothing collides with his head so he pushes the door open, holding onto a plate of pasta he’d made especially for you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, still deciding on the right words to say.

“You haven’t eaten all day..” he decides on, gingerly placing the plate in front of you on the desk, “you don’t have to eat it but don’t throw it away,” stepping back from the desk with extreme caution.

You’re taken aback, not at all expecting the kind gesture, blinking at the delicious food in front of you. “Can I have a fork..?”

“Shit yes I got one,” digging in his apron pocket for the utensil, laying it down next to the plate gently.

“Thank you,” you nod, poking your fork into the food. It is delicious and it was still warm which is an even better bonus.

He smiles slightly, “I wanted to say.. I’m sorry for being an asshole, you should..” trailing off into silence, swallowing the lump in his throat, “you should go for it, it’s a great opportunity,” reassuring himself even if he didn’t quite believe it.

You chew slowly, apprehensive about his sudden change in attitude. This surely hadn’t been a conclusion he’d reached on his own and you wonder just who in the kitchen had given him a pep talk before sending him in here. You appreciated it nonetheless. As weird and complicated as you guys were, you weren’t quite ready to give it up already.

“Really?” you look up, trying to gauge his reaction. It was evident that he was putting on a brave front and he still had some apprehensions about it all but for you he was willing to ignore them.

Your heart swells. Which makes you feel a little sick. In a good way though, well, you think so anyway.

“Yeah.. you’re a great chef and you deserve better than this shithole,” one side of his mouth twisting into a smile. The words are heavy and difficult to get out, but they’re true. He means it and would really do anything to ensure you were happy. Even if it did mean swallowing his pride and letting you follow that douchebag Steve.

You stand from your chair, rushing over to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you..” resting your chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

He was going to miss these little moments the most, he thinks. Shaking his head slightly when his mind flits to the thought of you in some other kitchen doing this with someone other than him.

“You want some food? Don’t wanna eat this whole thing myself,” pulling away from his grip, motioning back towards your desk.

“Thought you’d never ask,” masking the ache in his heart with a sloppy grin.

If his uncle had taught him anything, it was that you had to make sacrifices for the people you loved. Or thought you loved. Whatever.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to show his stupid little face again and it irks Eddie to know that you were probably texting with him this entire time. Getting excited about this new position with another man. Blergh. It was knocking him sick.

You look over Steve’s shoulder to give Eddie a small glance, smiling ever so tenderly as you disappear into your office. That should be enough confirmation that he truly had nothing to worry about. It was just a job. Oh God, what if you find someone else to bicker with? Look what had happened to you two.

That sicky feeling returns and he wants to bolt. But he doesn’t, he’s big and brave and instead chooses to focus on finely dicing some onions until you reemerge from your office. Whenever the fuck that would be.

It must be a whole half an hour before Steve walks through the kitchen, giving Eddie a sly pat on the back on the way out. Smug prick. He just grips the knife tighter, waiting for you to confirm that you’d be gone next week and that he should really start moving on before you left.

“Ed’s can I talk to you outside?” your voice snaps him out of his pity party, giving the rest of the crew what looked like a sympathetic smile, you’d tell all of them the bad news later.

He knew this was it. You were about to lay it all bare, tell him it’s okay, maybe we can still be friends? I hope you understand but I have to go and work at this fancy restaurant with my fancy high school boyfriend, sorry!

Reluctantly walking into the alley way, the alley way you’d shared many sneaky kisses, reassuring words and that one time you’d got carried away and almost gave him a hand job right then and there. It was painful, the once comforting aura of the brick walls had since vanished.

He’s already bracing for the worst, keeping his back to you as he walks further down the path. It’s the only way he could be sure that he wouldn’t end up begging on his knees for you to stay. And even then he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen.

“Will you look at me?” your voice echoing through his veins.

He does, turning on his heel excruciatingly slow. Bottom lip starting to sting as his teeth cut into the skin.

“When are you going?” solemn and miserable, honestly trying his hardest not to start pleading with you.

“Never,” shaking your head, “I’m staying here,” feeling incredibly smug. You looked it too, nose scrunched up as you grin at him.

Fuck. He’s not even sure if he’s heard that right. But the blood rushes back through his body and he almost crumbles, falling to his knees to thank whichever being up there had answered his prayers. The glum look he’d seemed to possess had vanished, grinning like a fucking maniac as he bounds over to you. One minute you’re on the floor and the next you’re being spun around, his arms almost crushing you.

“What? Why’d you change your mind? I- fuck I’m so happy,” setting you back on solid ground, much to your relief.

“Well, the thing is.. there’s this guy who works here, he’s a bit of an asshole but for some reason I really like him and he’s convinced me to stay,” fingers digging into his biceps, still afraid that you might become airborne at any moment.

There’s not time to catch your breath before he’s crashing his lips into yours with great force, sending you flying backwards against the wall. His hands grabbing at anything he could touch, travelling the length of your body to brace your cheeks. Keeping you steady, making sure this was actually real. Christ, he thinks he loves you.

Scrap that, he’s fucking certain that he loves you.

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