#and couldn't afford a car anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pyro-chaos · 6 months

Text

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…

Summary: Prologue. How it all started.

Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.

Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,

And they were roommates…

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read

-———-———

Mike knows you, but not well.

You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.

Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.

You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.

You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.

You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.

“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”

Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.

You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.

When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.

Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.

So that’s how you can afford a place like this.

Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.

Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.

You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.

You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.

Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.

You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.

He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”

He remembers how you made him chuckle.

The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.

You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.

He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.

But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.

A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.

The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?

Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.

He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.

The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.

You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.

Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.

You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.

His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.

He has fun.

He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.

A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.

Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.

Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.

You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.

Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?

You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.

He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.

Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.

Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.

He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.

So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”

You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”

Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.

“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.

“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.

Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.

He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.

He doesn’t know what to do.

So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.

Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.

Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.

“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.

“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”

“Does she have medicine?”

“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”

“Does she have chicken soup?”

Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.

“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”

His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.

That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.

Tomorrow comes too soon.

Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.

You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.

At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.

He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.

In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.

You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.

Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.

"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"

That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"

You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"

Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"

You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.

You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.

It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.

Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.

Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.

Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.

A few weeks go by.

You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.

“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.

Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”

It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.

You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.

You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”

The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.

“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”

He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.

“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”

He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.

You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”

He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.

Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.

“You wanna move in with me?!”

Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.

He has fun.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt imagine

1K notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 3 months

Text

When at work - Lando Norris x UniStudent! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando has known you since you were born, literally childhood friends. You went to every karting weekend with him until he started to travel more. As childhood lovers who have been dating for 8 years what happens when the general public find out about you?

Credit to landooscurls for the GIF

You'd been taken home by an officer in his car. He'd attempted to calm you down offering to stop at a petrol forecourt and get you a snack to help you blood sugars come back up.

Apparently you looked ghostly pale.

After a Wispa chocolate bar and a Lucozade was brought for you, and you sat in the car just chatting they pulled out and went back onto driving you home.

Once you'd been dropped at the door of your place that you shared with Lando the officers asked you a final few questions. Just if you had good security systems, or someone to stay with you tonight so you weren't alone.

They also explained that you would no longer be safe working there, and even a transfer wouldn't be safe. They asked about your income and whether you'd be able to afford the loss.

Obviously you and Lando would have to talk to each other once he came back to the UK to see what you'd both do and if there was anyway Red Bull or McLaren would take you early as a work from home sort of offer until you graduated and could commit to the seasonal travel.

You shut the door after the officers left, making sure to lock it with the bolt. You sloppily chucked your keys into the dish that was on the cabinet in the entry way before hanging your coat up in the cupboard and kicking your shoes off.

You run straight up into the bedroom, the ensuite door was open and you trudged through staring at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. Your mascara and eyeliner had run, and you resembled a Panda right now.

You jump into the shower, wanting to wash the days grot and smell of coffee beans and marzipan away. You make sure to wash of the makeup from your face before getting out the shower and wrapping a towel around your hair and body.

You start to go through your skincare routine, making sure to add your little yellow star pimple patch on at the end. You walk back down to the main room where you and Lando spent most of you time in the house.

You grabbed a large blanket from the hamper wrapping it around yourself before curling up on the sofa into yourself.

You sat there silently for a little while before the hot tears started to roll down your face.

You couldn't tell why you were getting so emotional over it. It was scary yes, but it was over now and the police had been very quick getting to the scene.

After 20 minutes of your own mind and a large nap, you woke around 2am. You felt awful knowing that you'd slept on the sofa and had missed dinner. You decided to make yourself a 'breakfast dinner' as you and Lando would sometimes call it depending on his sleep schedule.

You did some chores around the house, like the laundry from before Lando had gone to Australia and washed up the dishes you'd just used and changed the bed sheets. And finished off with some studying for some upcoming exams you had.

As the clock hit 5.30am you started to prepare yourself. You knew seeing Lando race would make you feel much better. You caught yourself up on positions using the F1 app to find out where Lando and Oscar would be starting. You made yourself a tea and got some of you favorite snacks before seating yourself up all comfy on the sofa.

Once you hear the 'It's lights out and away we go' all your worries seem to just melt. You keep your eyes on both the Papaya coloured cars. Only breaking away to message Lily, you had actually met her somehow before you met Oscar which was very strange but you hit it off immediately and would no stop text each other throughout races if you weren't together.

Lando ended up coming 6th, Oscar only a car between them in 8th. The Mclaren didn't have pace this year and you could really tell but both the boys were pushing it as hard as they could without breaking it and messing up their races.

And just like that, 2 days later, Lando was on his flight home. You'd prepared everything for him. Got food that you knew his trainer would approve of, but he would as well. You made sure that everything was perfect.

You drove to the airport in his car, you wanted to see him as soon as possible so picking him up seemed like the best option.

You got through security easily, Lando had phone ahead telling them to let you into the private part of the airport, not wanting to risk crowds around you again.

You waited for him, as he came through the door you couldn't help but run up to him, flinging your arms around him. He knew you well enough that he braced himself for your launching hug, being able to catch you and hold you up as you wrapped around him like a koala does to a tree.

"Baby i missed you so much" you sob, pushing your face into his hoodie covered neck as you cry into him. You hold him so tightly and he squeezes you back, whispering little things to you to get you to calm down.

You hear people walking around, you know its his team, taking his bags away so you didn't knock them over and just to help him in general.

"Okay baby, lets go home" he smiles and he keeps a hold of you sighing as you look at him with a pouty frown and a shake of you head.

"You don't want to go home? Then we cant cuddle on the sofa and have food" he smiles down at you. You let out a small huff before untangling your legs from around his waist before placing a dainty peck on his lips.

"Do you need help?" you politely ask the Mclaren worker, offering to take some of Lando's bags to which she thanks you shaking her head explaining that you didn't have to help.

"I parked the car not far. report security were very helpful!" you smiled taking his hand while dragging his suitcase in the other.

"Yeah I asked for them to come meet you. I didn't want a repeat of the other day" he frowns, and looks at you in the eyes. You knew what this meant, he'd want to talk about it the minute you got home.

The drive home was quiet but comfortable. He left a hand on your thigh as you concentrated on the driver back home.

"So, we should talk about why you felt in necessary to get a job" he says squeezing you leg lightly as he looks over at you.

"I- I didn't want to give the fans another reason to assume I'm leeching off of you. And i feel bad asking my mum and dad, like I'm supposed to be an independent adult ... I'm 22" you say sadly and you hear him sigh.

"Baby, 22 is still so so young and you shouldn't have all that pressure on yourself ... please" he begs.

"I've been talking to Zac and Christian about opportunity i could do from home with them. Even Suzie reached out to me about F1 Academy" you explain, knowing you had options that didn't involve Lando and his finances.

"Baby, I know you don't want to be seen using me for my money, but holy shit you've got so much pressure on yourself right now. You don't need to add to it. I dont know how you did it for as long as you have been... how long did you work there?" he asks, having no clue how long you'd not told him you had a job for.

"About 3 months" you say, checking the wing mirrors before turning left down your road.

"3 MONTHS?" he asks in shock, you were nearly finished with university, surely you could have held out until graduation.

"Baby, you've only got like a month until you've finished all your exams and you'll join me!" he frowns, you pull up into the driveway with a sigh and a nod of acknowledgement.

"I know, i know! And I'm sorry i didn't ask for help and I'm sorry I didn't tell you I'd got a job" you say tears brimming your eyes before he pulls you into a hug over the gear stick.

"Oh, my sweet sweet girl. It's okay, I understand but please never ever feel like you cant ask for me to help you. That comes in the job description of boyfriend" he smiles at you, kissing your forehead making you melt at his touch.

This is what it felt like to be loved and cared for by Lando Norris.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 fluff

405 notes · View notes

thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

Text

Eddie and Max get out of the hospital at the same time. Eddie's scars are tender. It hurts to move sometimes. But he's got ointment, and pain pills, he'll be fine.

Max can see, not super well, but it improves a little every week. Her arms are mostly healed, she still has slings for when they ache. Her legs are healed, technically, the bones anyway. But she's got braces and isn't supposed to walk on them yet. She can stand on them for a couple minutes off and on to stretch them. But she goes to physical therapy multiple times a week.

Her mom had been rightly worried and upset and freaked out, because they couldn't afford a van for her wheelchair. And yeah she can get out of her wheelchair if she needs too, but its easier on her body if she can just, roll in and out of a vehicle.

So eddie tells her mom he can drive her around. All they need is a ramp for his van. He already had straps in the back to secure things, they use them on Gareth's drum set. The relief on Max's mothers face and the way she hugs him genlty is... too much. He just smiles and looks away, nodding when she thanks him again.

He drives her to therapy twice and decides that her trailer needs a ramp too. A good one. He can't help lift Max's chair, so he just has to watch Max's mom struggle to get her up the stairs.

So he goes home and starts drawing. He can see it in his head, the way he wants it, bigger than it probably needs to be, but he wants the slope to be low impact, because once her arms get strong enough to move herself, he wants her to able to do that. He just... doesn't know how he's gonna manage to DO all this.

But he goes to the hardware store one day, with Wayne, because Wayne knows things, about everything. And Wayne helps him pick out the wood, they estimate the numbers and then buy a little more, just in case. And they load it up, and drop it by Max's house. And the next day, Wayne goes to work, and so does Eddie.

He ties his hair back, shoves himself into a pair of Wayne's old cover alls, and walks slowly over to Max's, she doesn't have therapy today, or the next two. Eddie doesn't think he can get it done by then, but he's gonna fucking get it started if it kills him. He pops a pain pill into his mouth, takes a swig from the water he'd brought with him, takes a look at the drawing he'd made, and gets to work.

Max rolls onto her small porch steps about an hour into Eddie's work, he's been measuring and cutting and just separating things into piles. She says his name softly and he looks up, squinting, he's covered in sweat. And his body fucking hurts. He wipes at his forehead with his arm and limps over to Max. She's holding out a new glass of water.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is ...tight. Like she knows exactly what he's doing. Eddie chugs the water and hands her back the empty glass.

"What? You don't like suprises?" He huffs, smiles with the tease. She smiles back, her bottom lip trembling slightly. He rests his hand gently on her knee, gives it a squeeze, then heads back to where he was,

"Go inside. I can't keep an eye you when I'm working and if you roll off that teeny tiny porch you're mom'll kill me." She snorts, but does as he says. A few minutes later Eddie hears the door slap shut again, and looks up to see another glass of water sitting on the porch. He shouts a thank you, and keeps working.

It only takes another hour before he almost has a breakdown. His skin hurts, he's hot, his hands are shaking. He's downed three more glasses of water. His last thank you had been so strangled that Max had just looked at him and then disappeared into the house.

He's sitting on the porch steps now, hands shaking in his lap, tears falling down his face. He can't take another pill yet. He's got two hours. He takes a few very deep breathes, about to steel himself and get back to work, his hands are on his knees, about to push himself up, when he hears the car.

He looks up, and Steve's car is parking at his house. His hands fall from his knees. But its not just Steve in the car, Nancy and Robin are there too. All of them in old looking jeans, and ratty looking shirts.

Robin's are covered in paint. Eddie's breathing goes shakey as Steve pats Robin's shoulder and points at Eddie. Robin nods and heads for him, doing a weird little run, Eddie can't help but smile. Steve and Nancy are grabbing things from Steve's trunk, Eddie doesn't see what things, before Robin is filling his vision, dropping to her knees in front of him looking concerned as her hands gently cradle his face.

"Hey you. You okay? Max said you might need some help." Robin breaths it out like a sigh, like she'd been holding in her worry. Eddie bites his lip to stop it from trembling anymore and nods. She nods back with a smile.

"Okay cool. Well, help is here. Help being, Steve and Nancy." She nods to them.

"And I'm gonna sit with you until you're feeling a bit better okay? Then you can jump back in." Steve clears his throat aggressively as he walks past her at that. Robin's face scrunches.

"Maybe." She tells Eddie. Steve was ... was he mad? He wasn't looking at Eddie, just helping Nancy get the tools they'd need out of the box they brought. Eddie had some tools, but just for one person. Robin rubs his knee gently and squishes in next to him on the stairs.

"So you got baby sitting duty?" He asks her, his side pressing into her as almost all the fight to stay upright leaves his body. She's steady beside him, holds him up easily, her hand curling around his bicep for extra support.

"Well, Nancy and Steve thought it was probably best that I don't handle tools. So yeah, but hey, babysitting you's not so bad. I mean you're a GREAT conversationalist." Robin smiles brightly at him, watches him try to smile back and then grimace.

"You okay?" Her voice is concerned now, and that apparently draws Steve's attention. He's at Eddie side in the time it takes for Eddie to nod, his face still scrunched in pain. Steve kneels, looks up at him.

"Where are your pills?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head.

"Hour an a half." Eddie grunts out. Steve's head falls and then it's shaking, he sighs, and fuck, he sounds disappointed. And he's glaring at Eddie when he finally looks back up.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Doing this by yourself, with no one here but Max to help you if you got hurt. Did you think about that?" Steve's voice gets louder as he talks.

"Steve." Robin's voice, a warning.

"No. Robin. This is... you could've gotten hurt Eddie." He huffs it, his voice is full of frustration, and anger. Eddie just stares at the ground, tries to breathe around the lump in his throat.

"I know I fucked up alright? Can we spare the lecture?" He grits, his voice is wobbly. Steve doesn't hear it, just huffs again and stands, Eddie sees his hands hit his hips and braces for whatever he's gonna say next.

"What was Max supposed to do if you got hurt? Huh? She can't help you dude! And Wayne's at work! You're all alone out here, when you shouldn't even be out here in the first place!" Steve is openly yelling now, both Nancy and Robin saying his name as Eddie's shoulders shake. Eddie clears his throat roughly, pushing the tight feeling away so he can speak. He shoves himself to his feet with a wince, pain shooting through his body.

"You think I dont know that? I know how fucking alone I am. Thank you. Steve." His hand clenches at the pain in his side, a whimper rips out of his throat, tears burn his eyes and fall. Steve looks startled, then concerned, reaches out to steady him, Eddie slaps his hand away, hard.

"Don't fuckin touch me." He growls, wipes at his eyes with shakey hands and starts walking to his trailer. His foot hits a dip in the ground and he stumbles, Robin catches him, just enough to keep him on his feet. She lets go immediately as he shrugs her touch off gently, and keeps walking.

"FUCK!" he yells it, to no one really, just built up frustration clawing its way out of him. He stomps, carefully, up his own trailer steps, and lets the door slam shut behind him.

Max's trailer door squeaks open, and the three of them turn to see her looking at Steve.

"That was harsh. I told you to come help him, not fucking yell at him and make it worse." The look in her eyes could cut glass. Steve droops under her scrutiny, his hands moving to cover his face.

"Fuck. I know." He groans. He looks up, and over to Robin.

"What's wrong with me?" He sighs, his head hanging again. Robin gives him a sympathetic smile, walks closer, rubs at his arm.

"You care about him. And you were mad. And when you're upset you get...." she trails off, thinking.

"Bitchy." Nancy supplies, moving to his other side, her hand on his shoulder as he glares at her.

"What? You do. Eddie was trying to do something nice. Something amazing, actually, for Max." Steve glares harder, she holds her finger up, silencening whatever he was about to interupt her with.

"And yes he went about it the wrong way. He obviously should have called for help." Robin chimes in, squeezing his arm.

"But no one said he was a genius. He's just trying to help." Nancy finishes, moving her hand over his shoulder soothingly.

"I know that. But he can't... he can't just help others to point that he hurts himself!" Steve flails a little, both Robin and Nancy leaning away from him, out of his flail range. They share a look though. And Max snorts behind him. He wips around to look at her.

"What? What was that for?" He asks, his tone, to his dismay, bitchy.

"Did you hear what just came out of your mouth? Have you met yourself?" She asks, crossing her arms carefully over her chest. She glares at him until he deflates. He sighs. Squints against the sun as he looks up at the sky.

"I need to go apologize." He says. All three girls nod.

"Yep." Nancy says, pressing her lips together so she doesn't smile.

"Definitely. 100% yeah." Robin squeezes his arm again, gives him an encouraging nod.

"If you don't. I'm throwing myself down these steps and telling my mom you left me unsupervised." Max says, her voice flat. Steve's eyes widen, and then he gives her a look.

"Jesus. Alright. I was already going. No need for threats." He calls the last part over his shoulder as he makes his way to Eddie's trailer. He bounces up the steps gingerly and knocks.

"Come in." Eddie's voice calls. Steve opens the door, the living room is empty. He walks down to Eddie's room and his heart sinks. Eddie has one arm pulled up inside his coveralls, it's bent at an interesting angle, he's sitting in the edge of his bed, his face is wet with tears. He flinches a little when he sees it's Steve standing there and that hurts Steve too. He moves closer, just one step and then Eddie chokes out,

"I'm stuck." And Steve moves fast. He kneels in front of Eddie, trying to look at the situation, his arm is caught in the sleeve, his elbow shoved into it tightly, he moves Eddie's wrist and Eddie flinches again.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, keeping his voice quiet. Eddie nods, bites his lip. The sleeve is pressing hard into Eddie's arm, right where one of his scars is. Steve winces in sympathy.

"How attached are you to these?" He tugs on the front of the coveralls, Eddie looks at him.

"I'm not. They're Wayne's old pair." He says, his voice tight from the pain.

"Okay good." Steve says as he slides his pocket knife out, flicks it open, and cuts the sleeve in one fluid motion. Eddie's arm drops free, another whimper falls out of him at the release.

Steve cradles Eddie's arm, holds it gently as Eddie catches his breath. His fingers squeeze Eddie's wrist and he opens his eyes. Looks at Steve.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Steve says, not letting go of Eddie's wrist. Eddie blinks at him. Stares. Then shakes his head.

"Don't be. I fucked up. You were right. I shouldn't have been out there by myself." Eddie frowns, wipes at his wet face. Steve shakes his head then, pushing himself up onto his knees, his back straightening, moving him closer to Eddie's face.

"No. Don't do that. It wasn't your fault. Okay? I shouldn't have yelled. You were trying to help Max. And I just... I didn't wanna find you hurt. Again." Steve looks at Eddie, really looks at him, tries to convey what he means without having to say it. Eddie's eyes are wide, and a little glassy from crying, but Steve sees it, the moment realization hits him.

"Okay. I won't do it again." Eddie nods, moves his wrist in Steve's hand so he can curl his fingers around Steve's wrist.

"Thank you. Just call us. We'll help you. Okay? And Eddie?" Steve swallows, stands and lifts Eddie to his feet, Eddie blinks at him owlishly.

"You're not alone. I'm sorry if we made you feel that way." Steve whispers it, feels his throat burn as Eddie starts crying again. He wipes at his face and shakes his head, looks at Steve with some strange frown smile combo.

"No I know. I just... it's always just been me. And Wayne. Ya know?" He says, holding onto Steve as he sways, dizzy. Steve holds onto him right back.

"Yeah. Well... not anymore." Steve shrugs, smiles, and then tugs Eddie out of his room. They get him another pain pill, Steve rubs some ointment onto the scar on his arm, and then they go back outside.

Nancy is cutting wood while Robin measures and marks. Steve doesn't let go of Eddie's hand until he has him sitting on the porch steps. Max hands him another glass of water.

"You're drinking me out of house and home Munson." She teases, he stares her down as he chugs the water, holds the glass back out to her and wiggles it with a shit eating grin.

"Unbelievable. Sending the girl in the wheelchair to do your errands." She sighs, but smiles when Eddie hops up and gets the door for her, follows her inside to help. He pops back a minute later and hands Steve a peice of paper. It has his plans for the ramp on it.

"This is sort of what I was aiming for." He shrugs, watches Steve look over the paper.

"You did this?" He asks, looking back up at Eddie. Eddie nods, wraps his arms around himself, feeling self-conscious under Steve's gaze.

"What? What's wrong with it?" He asks when Steve says nothing.

"What? Oh no, sorry, nothing's wrong. It's just super detailed." Steve smiles, shakes his head, hands the paper to Robin and Nancy.

"Yeah well, I wanted it done right." Eddie shrugs, Nancy makes a weird moaning sound behind them, both of them look to see her looking down at the paper in her hands, lovingly. She looks back up at Eddie.

"Finally! Someone else detail oriented. I'm making copies of this." She sounds genuine as she waves the paper, smiling at Eddie. He flushes red and moves to sit on the steps again. When his hands stop shaking he helps Robin with the measurements.

She measures, he measures, Nancy and Steve cut.

It takes them two days. But they get it done. The ramp wraps around the side of the trailer, where Max's mom always parks. He bought some plywood as well, to put down on the ground, so Max's wheels wouldn't sink.

The first time she pushes Max down the ramp she nearly cries as she throws herself at Eddie. Hugs him tight and then apologizes when he huffs in pain. Max grabs his hand, looks up at him with her bright blue eyes, and kisses his arm. Just a little peck, smooching the bats on his skin. But he gets it. That's all she needs to do. He knows she's grateful.

Steve shows up at Eddie's trailer the day after they finish the ramp. His eyes are wild and he looks like he's been shoving his hands into his hair for a couple of hours. Eddie gets half way through asking what's wrong and then Steve is kissing him. They almost fall into the trailer with the force of it. Steve catches them, rights them, but doesn't let go of Eddie, just lets out a breathy,

"Sorry sorry." As he keeps them steady. Eddie just smiles dumbly at him. Wayne stands from the couch, clears his throat awkwardly and pats Eddie on the shoulder as he leaves, says,

"Told you them coveralls was lucky boy." He winks as he passes them. Eddie's laughter filling the trailer behind him as Steve's face goes crimson and he drops his head on Eddie's shoulder with a dramatic groan.

#eddie munson #max mayfield #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie blurb #fates Endless Inkwell #fei #my writing #my fic #mine

2K notes · View notes

bookofbonbon · 5 months

Text

strut: through a roundabout - coriolanus snow

Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Vehicular manslaughter- maybe.

Summary: You're always late to work and today was no different.

Word Count: 400+.

A/N: Inspired by one of my posts on my other blog @sihtriggyr. Enjoy!

You were late- again.

Three weeks under the tutelage of your infamous uncle and you could count on one hand the number of times you had arrived to work on time; your tardiness toward your employment quickly cementing itself as a bad habit you couldn't quite shake- not that you were trying to. Not really. As your uncle said, cars are a luxury few can afford, there is no traffic in the Capitol and yet you are always late.

You glance toward the digital numbers flashing on the dashboard, the clock telling you that you had ten minutes until sign on, however, given the snail pace that you were traveling you wouldn't arrive until five minutes after that.

You approach the unnecessarily large roundabout, merging smoothly into one of the several lanes. Pressing your foot down on the pedal, the vehicle lurches forward, steadily gaining speed. Today, you decide, would be the day you would arrive at work on time this week. The thought however, is quickly banished as you glimpse a flash of red in the middle of all of the lanes.

You slam urgently down on the brakes, steering wheel jerking to the side accompanied with the screech of tyres and the smell of burning rubber but, there's a loud thud anyway- you were too late; you had just hit a young man with your car.

Your heart pounds heavily in your ears, fear poisoning your chest and spreading through the rest of your body as you throw the car door open and run to the aid of the young man without a second thought for yourself.

He's on his side when you approach. Breath catching in your throat, you kneel behind him, instinctively pressing two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. It's faint but it's there and aside from his torn clothes and what looked to be a few scratches, the young man looked otherwise fine and you remember to breathe again.

With shaky hands, you ease the young man onto his back, a stab of annoyance replacing the fear that poisoned your chest as irritation begins to set in.

"What sort of idiot goes strutting through a roundabout?" you question angrily, fingers delicately brushing the centre of his palm.

So, finally you look at the young man- really look at him. Your nose wrinkles immediately, mouth twisting itself into a deep scowl at the familiar face.

Coriolanus Snow.

Coriolanus Snow is the sort of idiot who goes strutting through a roundabout.

Maybe you didn't feel so bad about hitting someone with your if it was him.

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow oneshot #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader

259 notes · View notes

tojisbbygworl · 10 months

Text

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 smut #yandere #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader

914 notes · View notes

lovesickry · 7 months

Text

- let the light in.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x rival femdriver!reader [1.8k] ┈⋆⭒ part 1 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, swearing .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: its kind of a filler.. ............. comment if you wanna be added to the tag list x

The shred of relief you felt after Miami was only due to the 2 week gap between races, time to focus more and time to maybe, slightly get on with things. Lando Norris had occupied your mind for far too long but no matter how many times you rerouted your thoughts, It wasn’t helping. You were still furious, you just couldn’t afford to be, it was interfering with everything you did now. An obsession, an annoying, tugging, nagging thing in the back of your brain. It wasn't supposed to be like this, you've been impeded before and gotten readily over it, why was time different. It had you hung on it and you hated it.

Since Miami there had been countless articles covering the crash and both you and Lando’s reaction to it. Most were fine, others were less so, but thanks to the work being done by your PR officer who told you exactly what to say when posed with any kind of question regarding the “incident” in Miami. Most unpleasant experiences were completely uninteresting and not warranting any article worthy statements. Proof of Mercedes PR managing skills as you watched Lewis laugh to himself when you spoke through gritted teeth how the crash wasn't “anyone's fault”.

Lewis was amazing, you couldn't have asked for a better teammate. Always calm, always kind and always supportive. He was the first to comfort you after Miami and the first to compliment your driving rather than your "composure". Sadly you couldn't spend every moment with Lewis and when he got some world champion privileges, like picking and choosing his media days, you did not. Which meant on Thursday when it was told to you who would be in press together you nearly had an aneurysm because it would just be you and the 2 McLaren members. Of course, of fucking course. Where was Lewis, anywhere but here. You wished you could’ve gone with him. Maybe when you have a few world championships under your belt Toto will let you skip out on media duties.

༊*·˚ SPANISH GRAND PRIX 2022

Spain definitely wasn’t cold the first day you arrived on track, briefing with the engineers and teams before being escorted to press. You spoke with Daniel before going in, you know he has it hard with McLaren, they treat him like shit and it’s starting to show, you laughed a bit before you felt Danny go stiff and you knew who must’ve arrived.

“Hey mate” Lando pulls Danny in for a kind of high five, handshake thing. Weird.

You're still just standing there.

“Oh hey Dylan, I didn’t know we were doing press together”

You smile weakly and nod, you know he's lying. Danny gives you a sympathetic look.

“Sorry if they ask me a bunch of questions about my win, i know it might be a bit annoying for you” he was half joking, but it still made you fucking mad.

He was so cocky you fucking hated it.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll have lots to say, it is quite a momentous thing anyway, first win in formula one and it only took crashing into me."

He snorts at that and Danny gives you a knowing look.

Lando walks towards you some more and goes to open his mouth before Danny steps between you two.

“Yeah alright, alright, lets just calm down okay”

Always the mediator. You were silently grateful as you were suddenly ushered into the press conference glaring at the back of Lando’s head and sitting down between the 2 drivers. You wished you were anyway but here as you looked out at the boppings heads of journalists and the prying eyes.

“My question is for dylan”

Your head perked up, initially zoned out. You nod at the journalist for them to continue.

“How confident are you feeling about Spain after Miami?”

Good this was good, remaining fairly neutral. Thank you.

“Yeah, I mean, in Miami the car was insane, but I did find myself struggling just in regards to wear on the tires and grip with the street circuit a bit more, but the team is expecting great things from the car this weekend, so yeah. Fairly confident.” you nod and move the microphone away from your face to signal that you’d finished.

The conversation flows on and you suddenly feel a hand on the back of your neck, quickly glancing next to you. You’re met with a smug Lando Norris who happens to have his arms spread out over the couch. You scoot slightly away from him and see the smirk that follows as you express your dis-comfort. You shoot him a look, which he responds to by moving closer to you and again touching the back of your neck. As his cold hands touch the skin at the back of your neck you subconsciously take a deep breath in. Was he this fucking stupid, what was the media gonna say about this shit. You couldn’t move away again it would seem unnatural, but the way his touch felt on you was wrong, you tried to not let it affect you. Not let him affect you, but it was, you try thinking about anything else, but all you can feel is his hands on your neck. He’s taunting you, playing you. His hand remains there until the end of the press conference to which you promptly flee from. So promptly in fact you have Danny chasing after you to check if you’re alright, you insist that you are and then pose the idea of dinner with him and Heidi soon, you guys hadn’t caught up in a while. He smiles at this and gives you a pat on the back before walking back to the McLaren garage as you walk to the Mercedes garage.

On Friday There's a few team meetings before you get ready to hop into the car, the activity you had been anxiously anticipating since Miami. Hopping into the car going into practice 1 is reminiscent, it had only been two weeks but you’d missed it. Pulling out of the pit lane ready to hear the car once more.

Practice 1 was less than satisfying, a meagre P8. However practice 2 was much more fun, as it always is, needing a little bit of warming up to things you clocked a P2. Getting out of the car for the day smiling was something that even your engineer was shocked about. Everyone had been shocked with your performance but you’d never been outwardly impressed with yourself. Maybe now it was just a reminder that the man who took your win was struggling significantly more with his McLaren than you were with your Mercedes. He got under your skin, now it was your turn to get under his.

Saturday rolled around and you had a pep in your step, you had a good feeling. The car felt great and you loved the track too. You hadn’t gone around spain too much but you’d reserved a few days to look around that weren't going for runs with your trainer. You said hi to Lewis in the morning as you sat down with the team, debriefing on yesterday’s results and car performance, Lewis had a small problem with his brakes yesterday that the mechanics said they had fixed, you raised the problem of a small oversteer but how it was not too much of an effect to your driving yesterday. You hopped into the car feeling settled and your engineer who you'd had a talk to before had advised you to “push even more”. So you did, you pushed the whole time and in doing so, pulled the car into P3, honourable but down a place since FP2.

Sat in your drivers room, legs-crossed sitting, a ritual for qualifying, calm before the storm. You are interrupted with 2 short knocks, you thought it might be holly (your physio) so you get up and don't hesitate to open the door. You roll your eyes at the smirking fucking face you see, you close the door almost immediately to which he only opens it again.

“Rude” he says.

“Fuck off”

“Just wanted to wish you good luck” his voice is high and taunting.

You glare at him, you’d been doing better than him all season he’s the one who needs “good luck”.

“I should be saying that to you, considering your results in practice”

He throws his head back and laughs, acting as though you've wounded him.

you walk towards him, hoping that with the movement he’ll edge towards the exit, but he stays put, looking at you.

You tense your jaw and walk past him, opening the door, gesturing for him to leave.

“Good luck”

He walks out with a grin on his face. What the fuck did he get from riling you up like this?

Holly, your physio finally arrives and you greet her with relief as you get prepped for qualifying. Holly was both friend and doctor as you knew her and she was always there to listen when you had drama to talk about, this specific one relating to a certain boy wearing orange who couldn’t seem to stop annoying you. She laughed at the gestures you made and stayed to talk as the PR officer came to talk to you about the Post-quali interviews and while you put on your fireproofs, telling you about her most recent life events. As you climbed into the car, still mouthing the words of the last song that played in your eyes, you wished you weren’t thinking of one thing: him. You begin your lap with a blank mind, pushing and pushing and pushing the car and the thoughts out of your mind of anything. Especially him. Its gruelling going into Q3 but you do it and your engineer is giving you points on where to push.

“That's P4 Dylan”

“Thank you” you say out of breath.

“Thank you”

“Great job”

You leave the track that night with a sense of satisfaction, not once thinking of him as you drive to your hotel.

tag list:

@eviethetheatrefreak, @fairiesdowntheroad, @landosgirlxoxo,@hiraethrhapsody, @hockeyboysarehot

#source: cafekitsune #f1 #f1 fic #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris series #lando norris enemies to lovers #lando norris rivals #lando norris x you #lando norris angst

374 notes · View notes

yuna542 · 1 year

Text

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 10<-

Part 11

Pairing: Jeongin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, under 18 DNI!Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, unprotected sex (just don‘t!), bloody nose

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Sooo. What do you think of this part? Maybe you noticed where I got my inspiration from (M/V. Making off?) Love our baby bread who is not so baby anymore… For real have you seen the 5-Star Trailer? Uffhhgg watched it like 10000000 times

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

When you took the note off your door in the morning, you wanted to break down and cry on the spot.

But you didn't have time for that. So you stuffed the paper into your pocket and headed off to work.

Only when you got to your office you dared to take the paper out again, and you had to read it at least three times before you understood the words on the yellow background. Your hands shook and despair gripped you as soon as the word 'eviction notice' even came into the corner of your eye.

Although you tried hard to remain calm, you could feel the frantic typing as you entered the number in your phone that was at the bottom of the letter.

After endless beeping, the administration of the building complex you were currently living in finally answered. You had gotten the apartment out of luck via relationships and it was a miracle that it was affordable despite the ideal location for you.

And now you were supposed to move out within a week because the building was going to be demolished.

After several questions, the annoyed administrative worker could only confirm to you what was already on the note anyway. You had to leave your apartment by the end of the week.

With the current rent prices it was impossible to find a halfway affordable apartment within a week and the panic of being homeless until the end of the week spread more and more inside you.

But when there was a knock on your door, you furtively wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes and put on a carefree smile as soon as Chan poked his head into the room:

"Morning, babe. We're about to take off."

You had completely forgotten about that with all the stress. Quickly, you nodded:

"I'll be right there!"

Today was the teaser shoot for the music video.

You had no choice but to put on your professional mask and start working.

As you got into the car with Chan, where the guys were already waiting, you were showered with energetic vibes. They were all looking forward to the first shoot and the energy soon transferred to you as well.

Even though you couldn't completely banish the dark thoughts from your mind, you had to focus on your work when you arrived.

The film crew was getting everything ready while the guys were sent to makeup to change and get ready.

The video would be set in a sports hall and the guys would be playing basketball. There would be some sporty and handsome shots that would surely please the fans.

Han was the first to notice that something was wrong with you.

"You look tired... Are you okay?", he asked as everyone just waited for Chan and Hyunjin's hairstyles to be done.

"Yes all good, Ji. Don't worry about it", you said quickly. Too quickly and that's when the Director began to speak.

He gave the guys instructions on how they would first shoot individually or as couples and then mimic a little basketball game as a team.

You retreated to the bleachers with the film crew and when you had a few free minutes, you looked for possible apartments, but that brought you much closer to a breakdown. You couldn't afford any of them and most of them were way too far away. You would need several hours to get to work and that would not be possible with the strict schedules.

When out of nowhere you felt a hand on your leg, you flinched violently and almost threw your phone off the stand. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes and raised his hands placatingly.

"Take it easy! It's just me."

Behind him, Felix followed, and they both looked like they could see right into your head.

"Are you guys finished yet?", you asked, trying a half-cheerful smile.

They took you in the middle and Felix didn't hesitate to pull you into his arm.

"We just have to do the group shots. Hyunjin and Changbin are on it right now."

You put your temple against his with a sigh and breathed in his sunny scent.

They all looked really really good with the school uniforms. So the video should have a nostalgic vibe and even you felt transported back to your school days when you saw the typical uniforms. But in the past, the guys at your school had never been as attractive as the ones who were now chasing the ball in the hall.

"Do you want to talk?", he asked, and he stroked your arm reassuringly.

With a quick glance at Jeongin, who gave you a sweet smile, you sighed. So Jeongin had pulled out the secret weapon to elicit the reason for your worries.

You couldn't lie to Felix. He was too kind and bright. It was impossible to hide your feelings from him.

"The building complex I live in is going to be torn down. I have until the end of the week to get out of my apartment“, you explained quietly.

But no one heard you anyway. The song played on and off while the cameramen were busy getting good shots of Hyunjin and Changbin with the basketball.

"This sucks", I.N commented and you had to laugh bitterly.

"I’m sure we‘ll find a solution“, Felix tried to cheer you up, but you could just shake your head.

"I can't afford most of the apartments and it's impossible to find something in that short time."

The guys gave each other meaningful looks, but before Felix could answer, he was called by the director. It was time for the whole group to take group shots.

It was too funny to watch the boys trying to recreate a real game. Han was so afraid of the ball that he kept running around the others, Changbin and Chan tried to shoot at the baskets, while Lee Know and Hyunjin chased each other around the court, screaming at each other.

It took forever for them to get a few scenes halfway done, but they had so much fun doing it that they infected everyone on the staff with their good humor.

You raised your eyes as Hyunjin came up to you with his camera between scenes filming the making off.

"How do you like our godlike basketball skills?", he asked, and Han latched onto his shoulder.

You raised a thumb at the camera and said:

"You guys definitely play like professionals!"

"Why don't I believe you?", laughed Hyunjin, zooming in on Han, who posed with his legs wide for the camera:

"I'm the best player, though."

"Yeah because the rest of us are extremely bad!", Hyunjin shot back and then all you saw behind him was the basketball flying and slamming hard against Jeongin's face.

Hyunjin screamed out, who happened to have the camera right on it, and Chan was already running to the youngest, who was holding his face with both hands and wincing with pain.

Before you got past the stands, the director and the cameramen were already with him and handed him a cloth, which he pressed firmly against his nose.

But it was already too late. Blood ran down his mouth and chin and dripped onto his blue jacket.

"Who threw the ball?", asked Chan sharply, looking at stunned faces. Hyunjin had lowered the camera and Changbin slowly approached.

"That was me", Lee Know came forward, sounding concerned.

He pushed past the Director who was talking at Jeongin, but gradually the white cloth ran out.

"Sorry, Innie... Shit, I didn't mean to throw so hard."

Jeongin squinted his eyes and waved it off with one hand.

"It's okay... Never mind."

You took out more wipes from your bag and handed them to him so he could press them further against his nose.

"Stuff it up your nose until it stops!", said Chan, looking like a father tending to his small child who had fallen off the swing.

Gently, you grabbed him by the arm and said through the commotion around you:

"Come on, Innie! I'll help you clean this up."

Chan nodded curtly at you and when you saw the stressed expression on his face, you wanted to take all the heavy weight off his shoulders, that he carried around all the time.

You sat down together on one of the higher benches of the stands so that the others could continue working undisturbed. You sat down opposite him, both one leg to the left and one leg to the right of the bench.

He still had his head back and tissues stuck up his nose.

"Does it hurt a lot?", you asked cautiously, glancing down the stairs where one member of the team was already joining you.

He shook his head and his voice sounded nasal, due to the blockage in his nose:

"No. It's not that bad."

He was always like that. Just not a burden to anyone and always functioning at full speed.

The director's assistant had reached you by now and handed Jeongin more cloths and a cold pack.

"Should we call a doctor to take a look at the nosebleed?"

You were about to answer in the affirmative, but Jeongin beat you to it.

"No! There's no need for that. It's already stopped bleeding."

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him questioning, but he continued to refuse.

"Maybe the nose is broken", the assistant said, to which Jeongin again shook his head vehemently.

"Y/N can palpate me, but there's nothing broken. I can keep going!"

While the assistant tried to continue talking at him, you moved closer to Jeongin.

"May I?", you asked, and he nodded.

Then you gently ran your fingers over the bridge of his nose. As you did so, his face hovered so close to yours that you inevitably saw his gaze move to your lips and how he suddenly tensed up.

Blood still stained his chin and mouth and a few drops had also landed on his jacket.

Only because of the assistant who was present were you able to tear yourself away from his engaging eyes. Like a fox, he regarded you attentively and with so much intelligence in his expression that you trembled.

"The nose isn't broken. It all feels normal", you said quickly, pulling away before the assistant noticed that crackling energy between you.

By then, there was a call for him as well, and he finally gave up.

"I'll take care of Jeongin!", you assured him, and with that he finally gave in and disappeared.

"Thank you! Really", Jeongin said, clearly relaxing. He grabbed one of your hands and unobtrusively pulled you closer again by it.

"Let me clean your face!", you said, smiling softly and taking out a couple of makeup wipes from your bag that you always carried in case you needed it. He nodded and you began to wipe the blood from his skin with concentration and careful hand movements.

While doing so, you couldn't help but inhale his cologne. He smelled like a heady mix of fresh florals, woody lime and the first rain on a sunny day.

His charisma was more than attractive and when he was that close to you, you became restless. There was something unpredictable about him, behind the politeness, the funny weirdo and the loving nature.

It was the self-confidence that lay dormant in him that regularly blew your mind. Even though he was just a few months older than you.

Bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you tried not to hurt him.

"Y/N?", you heard his soft voice ask, and you felt his heartbeat quicken under your hand.

"Huh?", you hummed busy and that's when you heard Hyunjin standing next to you again, holding the camera on you.

"Since Lee Know tried to kill our Maknae. How are you I.N?"

You looked at the camera and threw away the bloody cloths.

Jeongin raised a thumb to the camera and said:

"It's all good. It's really not as bad as it looks. And Minho's throw was also too bad to really do any damage."

"Should I try it again? Maybe next time you faint", shouted Minho then, and you smirked as you felt Jeongin's knee pressed against yours.

Hyunjin laughed and Minho looked fierce but you both could see the concern in their eyes despite everything. They were family, after all and cared for each other no matter what.

Then Hyunjin was distracted by Felix who was trying to shoot baskets with Chan and went to join them. Jeongin took the scraps of cloth out of his nose and threw it all in the trash by the stairs.

"You should cool that so it doesn't swell any more", you said, already activating the cold pack by bending it.

"Does it look that bad?", he now asked again without the nasal tone.

You shook your head quickly. Once the blood was gone, the minimal swelling on the bridge of his nose didn't seem so bad either.

"No. But we don't know what it will look like tomorrow."

He nodded and closed his eyes as you held the cold pack to the bridge of his nose. A soft hiss escaped him as the cold eased the throbbing in his head, enjoying your gentle touch.

For a while, you just sat there together, enjoying each other's presence. Jeongin could have endured for hours the way your fingers stroked his face and dabbed his nose with the cold pack.

"Does it feel good?", you asked after a while, and that's when he opened his eyes again.

"You have no idea", he murmured, relaxed, and when your eyes met, you noticed the closeness between you.

His thighs were pressed tightly against yours from the outside and you could feel his breathing on your cheek as your face was only a hand's width away from his.

An embarrassed smile flitted across your lips and immediately his eyes were fixed on it. He could just look at you and your knees went weak.

You put your other hand to his cheek to hold his face tightly because you just wanted to touch him while you continued to cool his nose. Slowly he lifted his gaze and your eyes locked together. You got all excited as he licked his lower lip and all the sounds of the shoot faded into the background.

Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, yet your heart jumped out of your chest and you stared wide-eyed at him before looking around to see if anyone had watched you.

He too seemed surprised himself and couldn't quite believe he had actually done that without thinking. Looking down at the crew, you breathed a little sigh of relief when you saw that everyone was busy taking videos of Changbin.

Chan and Felix were listening intently to the director and Seungmin's hair was being fixed.

Only Hyunjin looked in your direction and slowly lowered the camera.

He tried not to let notice, but gave you a warning look.

This was too much and too public.

It was just too dangerous and you knew it. It had just happened and you hoped nobody saw it.

"Sorry", he whispered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

You had to swallow hard and nodded quickly without looking at him.

"You should take off that jacket. Maybe we can get the blood stains out by the sink", you said, hoping that if you just didn't address it, it never would have happened. Together you walked down the bleachers and asked a couple of women from the staff where the nearest sink was. They sent you straight to the hallway and there you found a sink on the wall behind the next corner.

Jeongin slipped out of his jacket and watched you try to wash out the dark stains with water. But it was quite hopeless. The blood had already sunk too deep into the fabric.

"I think that's it for the uniform", Jeongin said, taking the jacket from you to hang it over the edge of the sink.

Just in the white shirt and tie made him look like the main character in a K-drama. His hair fell into his forehead and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he looked at you uncertainly. All this time he'd been strangely silent and you couldn't look at him any longer without staring. He looked outrageously handsome with his sleeves rolled up under which the veins on his forearms stood out.

"I'm really sorry about earlier", he finally broke the silence, and when you did look him in the eye now, you realized he was worried about you.

"I didn't mean to attack you like that. You took such care of me and you look so beautiful, I just couldn't control myself and I..."

You had to interrupt him, not being able to stand the way he was torturing himself.

"Innie!"

He looked at you questioningly and stepped from one foot to the other.

"I didn't think it was bad."

"You didn't?", he asked uncertainly, and you immediately wanted to kiss him to exorcise all the self-doubt. He stepped closer until your hands were against his chest and he had to look down at you.

"No. I thought it was really nice, and if there hadn't been so many people there, I would have liked to kiss you too."

A relieved laugh escaped him and he took his hands out of his pockets to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So you want me to kiss you?", he asked softly and you had to smile at his uncertainty. He wanted to make sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I want you to do so much more than just kiss me“, you replied with an ambiguous undertone and immediately his cheeks turned rosy and he stroked his fingers up your neck to your chin, where he lifted it slightly and placed his lips gently but intensely on yours.

Slowly you opened your lips and returned the kiss. As if in slow motion, he pulled you to his chest and deepened the kiss. He tasted honey-sweet and touched you with so much passion that you melted right against his chest. With your eyes closed, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and gently pulled on it. Burying your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and set off fireworks in your head.

The kiss lasted an eternity and you never wanted to stop your tongues dancing together.

His fingers stroked down your back and he kissed you so passionately that your body automatically curved into his. His hands went under your skirt, grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him until your upper body was pressed tightly against his.

You slid your hands under his shirt and stroked his firm stomach, that's when he broke the kiss to gasp into your mouth:

"I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I want you... right now", you gasped, and the sizzle between you was about to explode.

"Everyone else is in the other room", he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

You knew that, but you also knew how wet you were by now, just at the thought of feeling him inside you.

You took his hand and slid it between your legs. With wide eyes he looked at you, but immediately stroked your covered cunt with two fingers, feeling how soaked your panties already were.

"God... You're so wet", he gasped and began to move his fingers lightly against your core. Your parted lips and your fingers digging into his chest in the process made him completely lose his mind.

He instantly got hard and you felt his cock against your lower abdomen.

"Do you like it when I touch you like that?", he asked, pushing your panties aside to rub your clit directly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Yes. But I want all of you!“, you whispered, while stroking his bulge over his pants and grinding your hips against his fingers.

Because of the sounds of the shoot behind the wall right next to you, you realised that someone just had to come around the corner to catch you.

"Fuck it…“, he suddenly muttered then and took your hand tightly in his. As he pulled you down the long hallway, you glanced over your shoulder in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. You have no idea how many naughty fantasies I had about you..."

You giggled and together you ran to the exit, like little kids who had done something wrong and tried to get away with it. You felt transported back to your school days, where you secretly made out with your crush and it evoked the most exciting feeling.

In the garage, he led you to the big car.

"Do you have the key?", you asked in wonder, and when he just opened the door, you glared at him.

"We usually leave the car open. Someone always forgets something. I know it‘s irresponsible but practical.“

He opened the sliding door and let you climb in until he too came in and pulled the door shut behind you.

"This is still pretty public", he mused aloud, but you were already shoving him into the back seat, where he had been sitting between Hyunjin and Han while you had droven here, and climbing onto his lap.

Immediately he pulled you into a kiss again. Only this time he was more impetuous and you could now feel his boner clearly pressed against your cunt. Quickly you took his tie and literally ripped open his shirt to touch each of his abs one by one.

"Take off your panties! Now!", he demanded and he didn't have to tell you twice. Hastily you slipped out of your thong and at the same time Jeongin pulled down his pants and underpants.

"I want you to ride my cock. I need your pussy so bad, jagi!“

He was impatient and directly his hard length jumped out.

"Since when did you start becoming so naughty, maknae ?" you asked teasingly, climbing back onto his lap.

"Since I tasted you."

He ran both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra popped out and immediately he kneaded your breasts and spread kisses on them.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a grin as you positioned yourself above him and suddenly put his hand around your neck.

With the other, he pressed you down on his length and it felt like he was splitting you into two parts. With the tight grip around your neck, you felt him fill you completely and you couldn't help but moan out loud.

"Fuck... You're gonna crush me", he growled, continuing to guide your hips until he was completely engulfed in you. You were breathing heavily as you tried to adjust to his size and he unclasped your bra and tossed it somewhere to the front of the car.

"Move!", he said and you began to roll your hips against his. His head dropped to his neck and he moaned loudly as you took him as deep as you could. Your fingernails dug into his chest as you were able to use his length the way you wanted and after a few seconds you rode him with faster and faster movements.

He held you by the hips and every gasp and moan you could elicit from him spurred you on even more. While he helped you rock back and forth on his cock, your clit was swollen and aching, begging for more. It didn't take long for your climax to grab you and you came on his dick while moaning his name. But you did not stop. You wanted to satisfy him and you felt him already twitching inside you as you tightened around him.

"God. I'm gonna cum soon, if you continue to take my cock so fucking good", he moaned and kissed your neck and even bit into it lightly, making you gasp his name.

"Come inside me! Fill me up, Innie! Please!"

Your words brought him over the edge and you felt him come and empty deep inside you with a choked gasp. You slowed down and sunk down on his cock.

"Should we stop?", you asked, breathing heavily, while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. In reply buckled his hips into you and began to push you up and down by your hips on his still hard dick.

Your clit was ridiculously sensitive from the first orgasm and you were not sure if you could handle a second one right now.

"Come around my cock again, sweetheart! Then I'm going to fuck you, like you deserve it."

His words turned you on again and you started bouncing on his throbbing cock again. You rolled your hips against his and you could tell Jeongin was holding back from bucking up into you, giving into his greedy desires.

"Shit, you're still so tight", he moaned, staring up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on not cumming again. You knew that anyone could hear you, even through the doors of the bus, but you were just too drunk on his dick that you could care right now.

Your hands were tightly pressed to his chest, while you worked yourself to your next orgasm, which was already making your whole body tingle.

He didn't meet your gaze, instead, he watched the way his cock disappeared into your stretched hole, admiring the way your juices looked on his member.

"I love hearing you moan like this, angel", he said and guided your hips as you began to lose control due to the high that gripped you for the second time, flooding your entire body with heat. He wasted no time and while you were still working out your orgasm, he started thrusting into your cunt.

"You feel even better than the hyungs had described."

You probably would have blushed at the fact that the boys were talking about you like that, but the youngest of them was penetrating your sore pussy too much for that.

"Innie, oh god... please", you moaned and his gaze finally met yours.

"You like that? Being fucked like this?"

You might've been on top, but you were completely at his mercy by now. You were under his spell since the day you met him, hypnotized by him and his charming smile. He was tantalising you with his dark obsidian eyes. You lived for the lust-driven look in his face and his sweet groans. You bent down and cupped his face, hungrily kissing him. You kissed frantic and heated, desperate to taste each other. He licked his lips as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips.

The filthy squelching sounds of him fucking his cum back into you filled the car and he removed his hands from your hips to reach up to cup your breasts, taking one in each hand, squeezing them.

You completely lost the sense of time, but couldn't stop urging each other to the next high. At any moment the shooting could be over and they could come back to the car.

His cock prodded against your cervix. You wondered who taught the boys how to fuck like this. Each of them fucked you in their own way and all of them were gods in this area.

Especially now you were totally addicted to the way Jeongin fucked you.

But finally you were overwhelmed by an orgasm that made you tremble. Your insides seemed to boil and as you tightened around his dick, he also came with a painful grip on your breasts.

Overwhelmed, you worked your highs out for as long as you could before you sank against his chest, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through your hair and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple.

"Was that good?"

You laughed lightly, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, still dazed stroking his neck.

"That was amazing, Innie."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your back until your breathing calmed down.

"Move in with us!"

"What?"

You looked at him questioningly, and he knew he didn't have the right or the power to decide that, but he wanted to. You were worth it.

"We have a spare room in the new apartment. Right now it's just for storage, but you could have it."

"JYP wouldn't allow that."

"Why not? Before it takes you hours to get to work because your apartment is far away, it would be a solution. Besides, it would make our job extremely easier."

You couldn't say anything more in response, as the two of you heard muffled voices from outside, peering through the darkened windows.

"Shit! They're coming back!"

Quickly you jumped off his lap and slipped into your underpants and skirt. You felt the mixture of your juices and his cum making a mess in your panties, but you had no choice. You couldn't find your bra, and yet you saw that Chan and Seungmin had almost reached the bus.

Jeongin had already pulled his pants back up and was buttoning his shirt.

There was no more time, so you put on your shirt without a bra and just dropped into the seat next to Jeongin when the sliding door opened.

Chan poked his head in first and when he spotted you, he turned to the others.

"They're here! I told you they went ahead."

One by one, everyone got in and sat down. The driver wasn't here yet, so they looked at you curiously. Jeongin's hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. You probably didn't look any better.

"Where were you guys?", asked Lee Know, turning around in his seat to face you.

"Y/N was helping me with that bloody nose you gave me!", he said and Lee Know raised his hands defensively.

"Hey I already apologized!"

"We tried to save the jacket, but it was for nothing", you tried to explain your absence, but it was obvious that no one believed you.

Han had his hands clasped under his chin and was looking at you with a knowing grin, and it would only be seconds before he would say something dumb.

"You certainly had to comfort him", Changbin said then with a laugh, and Jeongin immediately stared at his shoes in embarrassment.

Then Seungmin suddenly bent down and pulled something out from under his seat. Startled, you stared at your red lace bra in his hand, which he now held up.

"Did any of you lose this? Because it's not mine."

"I usually wear black lace underwear", Chan replied, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Quickly, you jumped up and snatched your bra from Seungmin's hands.

Just in time, as the driver boarded and announced the start.

With your head burning, you stuffed the bra into your pocket, feeling the entertained looks of the others on Jeongin and you. On the way back, they continued to tease you for quite a while, but that's when Jeongin started:

"What if Y/N moves in with us?"

Immediately there was confused silence. So you explained your situation to them and that's when Chan said:

"We could ask. Maybe that's really a good idea."

"Would you really want to live with us?", Felix asked over the others and now they all looked at you attentively.

Briefly you looked down at your hands and then answered:

"I think so. Yes. It would make my job a lot easier if I didn't always have to go back and forth between the dorm, work, and my apartment. Plus, I think it could be fun."

"Don't get too excited. Living with 3Racha is like living with three wild animals", Hyunjin said, making you smile and took a punch in the side from Changbin.

Back at JYP Entertainment, you were up to your neck in work, but the idea of living with Stray Kids solidified in your thoughts and you kind of liked the idea.

->Part 12

——————————————————————-

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @hgema @bookwyrm28 @gemini-demon @jeongchaos @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @ana-stasssiaaa @galaxypox @n034sy @amara-mars @purple-belle @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @niaalove @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @jenseok17 @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @uno7 @jeonnginns @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts @sugahannie @jinniespuppy

633 notes · View notes

oneforthemunny · 11 months

Text

crossings |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: everything is new and exciting with you and eddie, but joyce can't help but worry about you.

contains: mentions of suggestions to drugs and violence. an au of eddie in the mafia so crime and dark-ish themes. nothing graphic in this, mainly just fluff and a little angst. I'll put a warning on here anyways of 18+ or read at your own discretion.

It started with a necklace. A simple diamond necklace on a dainty gold chain. Reserved and classy, but still far too expensive than you could afford on a receptionist’s budget. Joyce furrowed her brows when you first started wearing it, nestled between your collar bones delicately, glimmering in the sunlight when you moved. It was too pristine to be second hand, but still, she figured it might’ve been a gift, shaking it off.

Then came the bracelets. Three gold stacked bracelets that were very chic; very expensive. She only knew that because she saw them in the magazines, dangling off some tiny model’s wrist with the price inscribed in tiny writing off to the side. She’d snorted loudly, flipping the page with a huff. Who on earth would pay that price for a bracelet? One that could get you a decent car? Yet, you strolled in on Thursday with them adorned on your wrist- again, understated and simple, nonchalant. Like you weren’t carrying some people’s salary on your wrist.

Handbags, earrings, rings, shoes all followed. Every piece more expensive than the next. Joyce had started to wonder if you were embezzling from the bank, stealing out of the drawers. Until she saw him.

Eddie Munson strolled into the bank, which wasn’t unusual, but this time he wasn’t here for Charles. Oh no, he was here for you.

“Hi, Joyce.” Eddie greeted with a smile. He was always so polite, it made her stomach twist knowing that behind that alluring smile was a dangerous man. “How’re you today?”

“I can’t complain.” Joyce smiled back politely. “How are you?”

“Good.” Eddie said cooly, his eyes flicked behind her, lighting up. “Better now. I got a hot date for lunch.”

Joyce blushed at the information. “Oh? Who-“

She saw you giggle, purse- a new designer bag fresh off the runway- slung over your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around Eddie in greeting, squealing when he pressed kisses into your cheek. The way his dimples deepened, creasing deep into his cheeks, eyes lighting up when he saw you; it felt very sweet. Joyce almost forgot who he was for a moment. More importantly what he was capable of.

"I'll be back in an hour, Joyce. I put the sign up." You beamed at her, your happiness nearly infectious when you smiled over at her. Joyce hesitated for a moment, watching Eddie sweetly place his hand on your waist.

"Have a good lunch!" You called over your shoulder, pressed into Eddie's side, pushing the glass door open for you to step through.

Eddie turned, lifting a hand in a wave towards Joyce, a kind gesture that shocked her. She could barely raise her own hand back, watching them scamper out the door- two young kids in love. She remembered being like that before, the insatiable feeling to be with each other at all times. The whirlwind of love and adoration that followed, sweeping you up on a cloud of ecstasy, fogging your judgement.

Joyce could barely touch her sandwich, staring at the plastic bag in front of her. She ignored the other chatter around her, coworkers busily clambering about their days and droning subjects she couldn't bring herself to engage with.

She knew you had no way of knowing, you couldn't have. You weren't from Hawkins, you were Nancy's college roommate, brought here because of a job- this job. She wondered if you had told Nancy about Eddie. She had half a mind to ring Jonathan and ask, insist he tell his fiancé what her friend is up to; who her friend is hanging around.

Everyone knew the Munson's. Eddie's father, Wayne, Eddie, his mother. The distaste, snarl that usually followed with the name was all Eddie grew up with. His hoodlum of a father, who was a delinquent around Hawkins, got his mother killed. Wayne who was forced to take the boy in, and the boy. The boy they outcasted all his life, mocked and ridiculed, now, held all the cards. He had the power now. When people said "Munson" now, they didn't snarl or scoff. No, it followed with wide eyes, in a low tone, turning to make sure no one was listening. That was whenever anyone dared to say anything about Eddie at all, most content on pretending they were unaware of the dangers that happened in Hawkins.

Eddie was always a good kid, and even now, he took care of his city. He had established terror in the hearts of all his citizens, enough to keep them quiet and docile, let him keep doing what he needed to do; but he was always the first one to help when they were in trouble. No one came for his city, for his home, for his things.

Joyce knew Eddie was responsible for the boy's home being rebuilt. He'd had a 'meeting' with Charles and a few other big names around town after a few kids at the children's home had become sick from the lack of heating that winter. The children's home had requested renovations, but the city pushed it back- until it became a top priority practically overnight. Joyce knew it was more than a coincidence that it happened to become priority after Eddie's meeting.

Still, she worried that you didn't know the danger. Joyce was a wreck all day, contemplating if she should say something to you. She knew it was a risk, that if you reported back to Eddie it could lead to a world of hurt for her... for her family.

Joyce watched you all day. When you'd returned from your lunch with Eddie, he'd walked you back to your desk, all dimpled grins and tossing you a wink that left you flushing before he left. He promised to pick you up later, walking away with a small wave. "Have a good day, ladies." He'd purred lowly.

Hours later, Joyce still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you. She'd tried, she had, but every time she'd call your name, you giving her a wide eyed, sweet look, her words caught in her throat. Choking and constricting around the request, before she'd just shake it off, laughing and blaming the weather for her scattered thoughts.

Joyce's eyes flickered from the clock on the wall, back towards you. You'd begun packing up, neatly filing papers away, and smoothing your agenda for the next day out. She bit her lip, rolling it in contemplation, pencil bouncing on her desk.

Five o'clock- closing time. You were already standing, peering out the window to see Eddie's Bugatti below. Joyce followed your gaze, shoving her own things in her purse.

"Wait!" Joyce called, much more urgent than she meant it to be. She called your name just as frantic, stopping you in the doorway.

"Um, could I talk to you for a second?" Joyce stammered, hands trembling when she shoved her things into her bag.

Your brows furrowed gently. "Yeah, of course. Are you alright?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. "Did I miss something in the paper work? I thought I stamped all the envelopes, but if I missed one I'll-"

"No, sweetie, it's not that." Joyce gave you a small smile, but her heart hammered so fiercely in her chest she could hear it in her ears.

Joyce pushed the door open, gently leading you outside. She caught the eyes of her coworkers, wide eyes and heads shaking in warning. They knew. Everyone knew. But what they didn't know was why Joyce would approach you with the subject. Put herself at that own kind of risk.

Joyce felt her stomach squeeze, turning to meet your confused gaze. "Joyce, is everything alright? Is it about the wedding? I told you Nancy can be a little stubborn about details, but if you're worried about something, I'll talk to her."

Joyce shook her head, eyes trailing behind you. The large ferns outside blocked her view, but she could still see him. Black button down, rolled sleeves, leaned up against the car finishing his cigarette.

"Sweetie, I-I..." Joyce let out a straggled breath. "What are you doing?" She asked lowly, eyes meeting yours cautiously.

Your brows furrowed. "What?" You asked. "Joyce, are you feeling ok? Do I need to call Jonathan or Will-"

"No," Joyce sighed heavily, placing her hands on your shoulders. It felt so maternal, shocking you a little. "What are you doing with Eddie?" She asked finally.

There was a silence between you, filling the space in a buzzing, defining tone. You blinked at her carefully. "Eddie?" You asked.

Joyce nodded fiercely. "Eddie... Sweetie, I know you're not from here, but-but Eddie... Eddie is not- he's-" She stuttered, shaking her head at herself, frustrated at her fumbling words. "There's things in Hawkins that are dangerous, ok? We all know it, but we don't know it, understand?"

Your face fell slightly, lips pursing slightly. You looked over your shoulder towards Eddie through the glass doors. Joyce's breath hitched. "And-And Eddie he's into those things." She said slowly, eyes watching you carefully. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

You gave her a soft smile, hands arching up to lay over hers, squeezing them gently. "Joyce, I understand." You nodded. "But Eddie is a very sweet guy."

Joyce blinked at you, in disbelief. She said your name in exasperation, but you held your hand up. "Joyce, I appreciate your wanting to worry for me, to look out for me, but," You sighed gently, looking over at Eddie. "I'm a big girl. I've got it handled."

"He could hurt you." Joyce muttered low, fingers squeezing you lightly in panic.

"He won't." You said firmly, head nodding back at her.

"Honey, I don't think you know what you're-"

"I don't think you know." You snapped, a little more defensive than you meant it to. The fear on her face at your tone, flinching back at the words made your heart drop. You sighed heavily, rubbing your temple.

You took a step forward towards her, cautious and holding your hand up in truce. "I know that you know some of Eddie's life, but you don't know Eddie." You gave her a sincere look. "Not like I know Eddie, and I can promise you, if I felt like I was in the slightest bit of danger, I wouldn't be with him. You don't know him like I know him."

Joyce didn't reply, mouth uncomfortably dry, heart beating far too fast in her chest. She felt like her knees might get out.

You gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, offering her a small smile. "Thanks for looking out for me, Joyce, but I promise I'm ok." You turned, seeing Eddie checking his watch, eyes now watching the two of you inside.

You turned, waving at Joyce over your shoulder, pushing the door open. "Have a good one, Joyce! See you tomorrow!" You called cheerfully.

Joyce watched in slight horror, confused and awed when you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck, his own gripping your waist, pulling you into a sweet, passionate kiss. He kissed you like he hadn't seen you in years.

He held the door open for you, letting you slide in before jogging around to the other side. He could see Joyce still staring, watching in amazement from behind the glass. His chest tightened, the carnal, protective need washing through his veins.

"What took you so long, baby?" Eddie asked, peeling off from the curb. "What were you talking to Joyce about?"

"The wedding. Nancy will not finalize details on anything, and Joyce is worried sick." You rolled your eyes playfully. "She wants me to talk to Nance, and I told her I'd try, but you know how Nancy can be? She's so stubborn and the more you push her, the more she'll dig her heels in."

Eddie relaxed, eyes flickering over to you gently. "She wasn't bothering you?" He asked carefully.

You furrowed your brows at him. "No." You giggled. "Just wanting me to play miracle worker for the wedding."

"Good." Eddie muttered, reaching his hand over the console to hold yours. "You remember what I said? You let me know if anyone starts bothering you." He brought your hand to his mouth, pillowy soft lips brushing your knuckles. It was so romantic, it had you giggling, positively giddy and drunk in love.

You leaned over, nose nuzzling into his clean shaved cheek, still smelling the nicotine on his lips when you kissed him sweetly. He slowed at the stop light, hands wrapping around your jaw to pull you closer, kissing you properly. When you pulled apart, your eyes were dazzling up at him, taking in his lopsided smile.

You knew there were two sides to Eddie. You knew there was. reason people feared him. You knew Joyce was right to warn you, to look out for you. You would do the same in her shoes. You wouldn't be able to understand either from an outsider's perspective.

They didn't know the Eddie you did. The Eddie that smothered you in so much affection, not just expensive material things, but sweet words that left your skin blushed with praise. He was passionate, about his business, yes, but about you too. An old school, intense type of love that you only saw on the screens. He was gentle with you, showing you a side of himself no one else saw.

You didn't want anyone else to. Selfishly, you liked that it was all yours. For you, and you only. Eddie was yours. Your scary man that everybody else feared, but not you. No for you, he was yours. Sweet and caring and protective; all yours.

You'd let them have their judgments. Their silent fears and worries about your sanity, about your safety. It was better that way, for both of you. You'd let them have their thoughts about Eddie, and you wouldn't try to change them, because that meant potential issues that neither of you wanted.

You'd let them think you were just with him for the lavish gifts. You'd let them think that you were insane. You'd let them think that Eddie was a threat to you. That he would hurt you or you'd get caught in the crossfire like his mother. You knew they couldn't help it, it was so easy to judge you and him silently, removed as far away from the relationship as they could. Yet the still casted their judgements in hushed tones and fleeting looks, too scared to speak on them, but too indulgent not to at least determine the outcome of your relationship. Mourn a fate that hadn't even happened. Predict a repeat of history without the facts.

"History repeating itself," They'd mutter to their friends in the quiet of their own privacy, head down but eyes cutting when the two of you would pass.

It was so easy to assume that, to brush it off that you'd both suffer the fate of his parents before him. Easy to judge when no one knew the facts or the truth. Opinions are easy to make with one sided, skewed facts. They were too scared to really try and know, to even try and see. But you supposed that was ok. They didn't need to know anyways.

Besides, none of them knew Eddie. Just like none of them knew you. Not the way you knew each other.

574 notes · View notes

lavender-romancer · 5 months

Text

Deceiver

Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.

One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.

"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"

"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.

"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"

You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.

Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.

Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.

Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.

Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?

He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.

You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.

"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.

"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.

"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.

Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.

"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.

"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.

"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.

Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.

"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.

"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.

"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.

"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.

"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.

You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.

Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.

After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.

"How did today go?" He asked you.

"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"

"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.

At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.

"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.

"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.

"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."

"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."

"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.

"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?

"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.

"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.

"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.

"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.

"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."

“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”

“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.

“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.

“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.

“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.

“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.

“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Taglist: @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01 @pockeymcmockey @moonshooter @horror-eye @hiatuswhore @missmunscn @slaypussypop-21 @slutforcoffein @lovemisshoneybee @louderfortheback @faye777 @pastthetreesandstars @gimmie-tea Peaky Blinders Taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby angst #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

161 notes · View notes

yawneneteyam · 1 year

Text

gorgeous (9) — what can I say?

— GORGEOUS, an avatar smau ( by yawneneteyam ) masterlist

— gorgeous, what can I say ?

the presentation went fine, nothing to worry about. y/n didn't throw up, neteyam didn't cry about whales- it was a success to the two of them. truth be told, the two of them kind of zoned out after they presented. they found a lot more amusement in just chatting up the back than listening to what their classmates had to say.

once class ended, their professor shot them a weary glance- knowing that they hadn't listened to a single word another student had to say. they didn't feel guilty, even though they knew they should've; but they enjoyed each others company too much to not hang off of every word the other said.

neteyam hesitated before speaking once they were outside, was he nervous? "did you want to come back to my place?" y/n took note of the way he shuffled his feet, "I'm taking tuk for ice cream when she's come from school if you wanted to come,"

y/n tried to not let her face light up too much, but it was impossible. he had asked her to come home with him? granted, it was to hang out with his little sister- but y/n would do his laundry or his dishes if it meant she got to spend another minute with neteyam.

"I would love to," she nodded, "means I can finally meet tuk!"

"oh," neteyam laughed, "she's been waiting to meet you, she'll be very excited"

"tuk knows who I am?"

"yeah, of course" neteyam nodded, "kiri talks about you all the time and they know we were partners for an assignment,"

y/n nodded, walking towards the parking lot with neteyam. "I'm honoured to be spoken of in the sully house," she joked.

"you really should be," neteyam chuckled, "right up there with the topics of tuk taking dad's credit card to buy robux and how the mato's bought a new barbecue so we should buy a new barbecue..:" neteyam sighed with a smile, "but we can't afford the barbecue because dad's card has been put on hold because tuk has been buy too many robux,"

y/n couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sorry," she shook her head. neteyam laughed too.

"it's okay," he promised, opening her door for her before heading over to the drivers side of the car, "it's fucking hilarious".

"not to your dad though," y/n gave him a knowing look.

"no," neteyam said with wide eyes, "so when you meet him, definitely don't bring it up,"

y/n laughed as neteyam turned the key in the ignition, "noted," she nodded. neteyam held her gaze for a little longer than he should have before putting his hand behind y/n's headrest- reversing out of the parking lot and heading towards his house.

"y/n, can you come back another night?" tuk held onto y/n's hand as they walked outside to say goodbye to her. neytiri stood at the door watching her youngest, making sure she wasn't going to kick up a fuss once y/n had to leave.

"if neteyam wants me to I can," y/n chuckled, looking over at neteyam who was leaning against his car, waiting for y/n with a smile on his face.

"what if I want you to?" tuk stopped in her tracks.

"alright you," neteyam leaned down and picked tuk up, holding her close to his chest, "go back inside and I'll be home soon, yeah?"

"but you have to promise to ask y/n back," tuk was pouting in her brothers arms, "..please?"

neteyam sighed with a smile, "of course,"

"I would've come over anyway," y/n whispered to tuk. the younger girl looked back to y/n with a big grin. they said goodbye to each other before neytiri called out a farewell. neteyam opening y/n's door for her once again.

"thanks," she mumbled with a shy smile. the drive was almost silent if it wasn't for neteyam's soft humming. "what song is that?" y/n asked.

"my mom wrote it," he only let his eyes flicker to her for a second before returning to the road, "there's a little bit for each kid, my part is the best of course," he shrugged.

"oh yeah?" she laughed.

"yes! is is,"

"that's pretty cool though," y/n told him.

neteyam hummed in agreement, "it's very special to our family,"

small patters of rain began to fall on the windscreen of the car. those patters became heavy fall. as neteyam pulled up to the girls dormitories, it was pouring rain in the cool of the night.

y/n grimaced slightly as she thought about having to run across in the rain, no jacket, no anything to keep her warm. neteyam startled her as he reached over into the backseat of his car.

"here," he handed her a hoodie.

"what's this?"

"a hoodie?"

"why?" she laughed.

"because it's pouring rain?" he looked at her as if it was obvious. y/n looked over the soft maroon fabric, the number twenty-four and his last name was embroidered on the back.

"what's this from?" she asked.

"I run track in the summertime," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

"you do?" y/n scoffed with a smile, "I didn't know that,"

"there is a lot of things you don't know about me," he grabbed the hoodie back from her and held it open for her. "arms up," he told her. neteyam helped y/n find her way into his jumper, pulling the hood over her head. he laughed as it practically engulfed her, he could barely see her face in the abundance of fabric on her head.

"you gonna be okay to get back?" he asked her, "do you want me to walk you there?"

y/n hummed, "opening my doors for me, offering to walk me back to my room? I guess chivalry isn't dead," she joked.

"neytiri raised me better than that," he smiled.

"she definitely did," y/n nodded in agreement. they both sat in his car, not wanting the other to leave. y/n knew she would have to be the one to go first.

"okay well, I guess I'll see you next week in class?" y/n asked softly.

neteyam slowly nodded, "course, but don't forget you told tuk you would come back soon and that girl can hold a grudge,"

they both laughed together as the rain drops fell onto neteyam's car. "I can't break my promise to tuk," y/n smiled, her hand resting on the door-handle, "I'll see you soon, nete"

"bye y/n"

— gorgeous, what can I say ? I'm back! it's been two days since the last one and lots of people have asked where it's been haha, I am very very glad you like it so much- looking at around 5-6 more chapters!! definitely keep sending in modern!neteyam bf headcanons/concepts- they're so much fun to do together <3 I hope you guys liked the new chapter!

#•°. * gorgeous smau #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #netyam smut #neteyam headcanons #avatar fanfiction #*࿐ neteyam #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2022

608 notes · View notes

billys-pretty-babe · 5 months

Text

The Proposal

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy loves everything about you, besides one thing. Your last name, he's ready to replace it with Hargrove, he just needs to get you on board with it.

Warnings : Swearing, illuding smut at the end

Word count : 856

A/N : Dacre's engaged so Billy deserved to be engaged as well

October 1985

Billy laid beside you in his apartment in Anaheim. You had moved in over a month ago and he wouldn't have it any differently, he loved waking up next to you every morning and holding you as he slept, just to do it again the next day. Something has been irking Billy, the legal documents you sign, they always had your last name.

Sure, the two of you had only been together a mere ten months but in Billy's mind, the time didn't matter because he knew deep down that you were it for him. You read your book, eyes dancing across the page, brow furrowing slightly as you reread a paragraph. Now was as good of a time as any in Billy's eyes.

He leaned over to his bedside drawer, sliding it open as quietly as he could and he grabbed the black velvet box, prying it open quietly, the small ring staring back at him. He felt bad because he couldn't buy you a large diamond ring, instead he had to opt for a small diamond ring considering he used his entire salary from his lifeguard job in Hawkins. He studied the ring and he glanced at you, eyes still on your book. He was asking himself questions silently, trying to think of how to do it.

You flipped the page of the book before a weight had appeared on your breast. You expected to see your boyfriend's hand but instead it was a black box with a ring inside of it. Your heart rate quickened and you put the book down. "Will you marry me," you looked at Billy, a nervous smile on his face. You quickly nodded, your throat felt like it was constricted.

"Yeah?" You smiled, "Yeah." He took the book from your lap, gently putting it on the floor as he held you close, getting the ring out of the box and he slid it onto your finger. "I would've gotten you something bigger but that's all I could afford." You looked at him, "Billy, I didn't even need a ring. We could've gone to the courthouse and I still would be happy. Thank you, it's pretty." He smiled and leaned in, kissing you gently, completely different than the times he has kissed you, laying in this exact bed.

You both laid down and he held your hand, twisting the ring around. "Can you cry at the wedding?" He glanced at you, "No." You groaned and he laughed. "Please?" He shook his head, still laughing. "How long were you holding onto this for?" He hummed, "I've had it picked out since April, I started making payments in May and I finished paying it off at the end of July." You nodded.

"What kind of wedding band do you want?" He shrugged, "I don't know, something silver." You nodded, "Okay." You made a mental note. "Can I start driving your car now?" He shook his head, "You know, you have a lot of requests." You laughed, "And you're declining all of them." He looked at you, blue eyes trailing down to your bare legs considering it was too warm to wear much to bed, especially when you knew your boyfriend, now fiancé, would be taking everything off anyways.

"There's something I wouldn't decline." You grumbled, "I'm not having sex with you right now." He huffed playfully, "Why was that the first thought that came to your mind?" Your eyes lowered into a soft glare, "I dunno, maybe it's the fact that your eyes are boring a hole through my underwear." He mocked you, knocking his head into your ribs gently.

His left arm circled around you, pulling you close to his body. "So, when are the Hargrove babies coming?" He laughed, "As soon as you let me go in raw." You rolled your eyes, bringing your right hand up and messing with his hair. "Thank you," you said again. He raised a brow, "For the ring?" You shook your head, "For everything, all the love you show me, every single experience we've had together, choosing me, showing me a side of you that I didn't know existed." Billy smiled, "I should be the one thanking you, you didn't give up on me through the tough shit, you loved me at my worst." Your right hand lowered until it was on his cheek.

"I'll always love you through the shit you go through, I'm not gonna leave when it gets hard." He nodded, head moving a little as he kissed you again, his left hand pressing your back into him. "So, should we start on those babies?" You laughed against his lips, "Think you can keep up?" He laughed, moving so you were flush between the soft mattress and his warm body. "Me having to keep up with you? Oh baby, you're the one that struggles after two orgasms." You laughed as he bent down to kiss you again.

The night was filled with love, lust and everything in between. Sure, the two of you were young but you both knew one thing, that neither of you could live without each other.

Part 2

#billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove

98 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 3 months

Text

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Trigger Warning- suicidal thoughts and MAJOR self-harm. Please do not read if this triggers you. Take care of yourselves xx

Previous Chapter

Chapter 17- Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Time went by in a blur. Months. Years. It all blurred together.

Nikki and Tommy, even Mick had tried to contact you. They came to your house, but you never answered the door. You couldn't talk to them. You couldn't face them after what had happened.

Mötley Crüe was finished... and it was because of you.

Then you saw on the news that Mötley Crüe had come out with a new album with John Corabi as their new lead singer.

It was bittersweet.

On one hand, you were happy for the guys and relieved that Mötley Crüe could still live on. But at the same time, it upset you.

There was no Mötley Crüe without Vince Neil. Sure, they were still recording music and now apparently going on tour, but it wasn't the same. Maybe you were bias, but Vince was the voice of Mötley Crüe. They couldn’t replace the frontman of the band and expect it to be the same.

You never tried to get in contact with the band. It hurt. You still loved them all dearly, but they didn't need you as a backup singer, and you didn't want to do it without your brother there. It wouldn't be right, and the guys wouldn't want you there anyway.

This whole mess was your fault to begin with.

So, you isolated yourself. From Nikki, from Tommy, from Mick, from everyone. You rarely left the house. What was the point? What would you even do? You had nobody left.

Growing up you had no one except for Vince. Your entire childhood was nothing but a blur of shitty memories and an even shittier father who never wanted you in the first place. Your own mother had abandoned you as a baby. And now Vince didn't want anything to do with you either.

There was a common denominator in those situations... it was you.

You had nothing before Mötley Crüe. You were a waitress at a diner getting paid minimum wage and living in the back of your truck. You could barely afford food let alone anything else. Until Mötley Crüe happened.

The band changed your life. It gave you friends. It gave you a new family. A family that loved you and cared about you more than your own flesh and blood ever did. It gave you a purpose. It gave you a reason to get out of bed in the mornings. Mötley Crüe was more than just a band, it was a family, and it was your life. It was everything.

And now it was gone.

It was all gone.

So, what was the point of anything anymore?

Being alone this long with nothing but your thoughts was dangerous. Without the band, without the guys, without coming up with new songs or going on tour... you've had a lot of time to just think. And it wasn't good.

The car crash back in '84 still haunted you. The sound of metal on metal when the vehicles collided… the smell of burnt rubber and smoke… the broken pleading voice of your brother, 'Raz, wake up. Wake up, man. Raz, wake up.' and seeing Razzle's dead body in Vince's lap still kept you up at night.

Having all this free time to be alone with your thoughts had those memories and feelings rising to the surface along with something else that you had tried these last few years to forget... the miscarriage.

The pain of losing a baby was something you were not expecting. Hell, you didn't even want a child anyway, but the pain hit you harder than you ever thought possible. So, you shoved those feelings into a steel box, locked it and threw away the key. But now, that key had resurfaced, and you couldn't stop thinking about it.

All your past trauma from your childhood to your utter loneliness was simmering to the top and you were drowning in the pain.

So, you reverted back to an old self-destructive habit to numb that pain despite swearing to never do it.

"I expect that homework to be done by the time I get home, understood?" Your father demanded.

"Yes, sir." You answered, your voice trembling after just being screamed at for 10 minutes straight about mathematics homework.

His hard eyes stared at you for a moment before he nodded and stormed out the bedroom and a few seconds later, Vince was taking his place after having overheard the whole thing.

"Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?"

Vince's eyes scanned your body looking for any injuries your father had caused, and you could pinpoint the exact moment he saw the blood on your flannel sleeve against your wrist and your stomach dropped.

No, he wasn't meant to see that.

Fuck. No, no, no, no.

It was too late to hide it. He saw the blood. He saw it.

It was like your brain had just short circuited because all you could do was stand there, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but you couldn’t say anything.

"Shit. What's that? What did dad do?" Vince questioned, grabbing your arm as he stared at the blood stain.

"What..." You trailed off as realisation hit you.

He thought your father did it. Vince hadn't figured out that it was you who actually caused the blood. And you were going to keep it that way.

Your brother didn't need to know about the things you did with a blade. He wouldn't understand. It was a fucked up habit, you knew it was, but it helped. The physical pain helped subside all the other pain deep inside of you, but how were you meant to explain that to him?

Quickly, you pulled your arm away not wanting him to see the cuts. If Vince saw the cuts, he'd know it wasn't from your father.

"It's fine. It's nothing, don't worry. it's fine." You hurriedly reassured, but he didn't listen and grabbed your arm again. “Vin, wait. Don't-"

It was too late, he was already pulling up the sleeve and you couldn't stop yourself from wincing as the fabric stuck to the cuts on your wrist.

"Shit, sorry-" Vince began to apologise before stopping midsentence as he stared at your now exposed wrist.

You didn't look. You couldn't look. You knew what he was staring at, and you watched his brown eyes widen in pure shock. A million different emotions washed over him, but they were masked before you could decipher any of them. You looked down at the ground not wanting to see the hate and disgust in your brothers’ eyes.

"Y/N..." Vince couldn't finish his sentence, his voice cracking as he stared at the cuts.

You could feel tears starting to burn in the back of your eyes but refused to let them spill.

Vince was going to hate you. He was going to hate you and then he was going to tell your father and then... shit. You didn't even want to think about what your father would do.

You yanked your arm from his grasp and rushed out the bedroom. Vince shouted your name, but you ignored him and slammed the bathroom door shut behind yourself.

You turned on the tap in the sink rolling your sleeve up before shifting your wrist under the steady stream unable to stop yourself from wincing as the water stung the cuts. Bright crimson blood mixed into the water, trickling down the drain.

You stared at the tainted water, your hand shaking under the tap before the bathroom door opened and you lifted your head and caught Vince's eyes through the mirror in front of you.

He leant against the doorframe watching you with his arms folded across his chest. He seemed conflicted. Like he wasn't sure if he wanted to be angry or sad, so he settled on being silent instead and that was worse.

His eyes lingered on your wrist under the water before flashing back to you through the mirror. His expression was unreadable as you looked right back at him, afraid to move or say anything.

You waited for him to start shouting. To start screaming at you for being so stupid and careless. You waited for him to get angry, to yell about how disgusted he was with you, but he never did.

He just stared at you silently.

Tears started to rise in your eyes, and you averted your gaze looking down at your wrist.

A moment later, Vince stepped into the bathroom and leant over your shoulder switching the tap off before grabbing a clean towel and gently dabbing it around the cuts to get rid of the water.

You lifted your head to look at him, his brown eyes focused intently on the task before putting the towel down and grabbing the first aid kid from the cabinet. Neither of you spoke while Vince wrapped a white bandage around your wrist and that was all it took for the unshed tears to fall silently down your face.

"Hey. Hey. It's okay." Vince insisted when he looked up and saw your tears.

"I-I'm sorry." Was all you could say, and you barely recognised your own voice.

Vince's expression broke as he put the first aid kit away and met your teary eyes with his own, "why did you do this, Y/N?"

How were you meant to answer that when you didn't even know yourself?

It just happened... you don't even remember what made you do it. The only thing you knew was when the blade sliced through your skin, you finally felt something. The pain gave you something else to focus on. It grounded you in a way that you were unable to explain and once you started cutting, you couldn't stop.

The pain helped. Because if you were focused on the physical pain, you weren't focusing on anything else. But how were you meant to explain that out loud? You couldn't.

"When did you start doing this?" Vince asked, seeming to realise that you weren’t going to answer his other question.

"A while ago..."

Vince sighed, "why didn't you come to me?"

You shrugged your shoulders, silent tears still falling down your cheeks.

"You know I would have helped you, right? I would have been there for you."

"I know, but..."

"But, what?"

"I didn't want to be a burden. I didn't want you to know... I didn't want to annoy you or make you hate me." You admitted, averting your gaze refusing to look at him.

"You're my sister. It's your job to annoy me." Vince answered with a sad smile. "If you feel the need to do this to yourself, you come to me. I don't care if it's the middle of the night or during class, you find me and talk to me, okay?"

"I will." You whispered, lifting your head to look at him and you were surprised to find Vince's own eyes were swimming with unshed tears too.

"Swear to me. Swear that you won't do this again. Promise me."

You sniffed, "I swear. I promise."

All these years later, you broke that promise.

You had tried to reach out to Vince for months. But he had ghosted you. Not that you blamed him.

Sharise kept you informed on his movements though. The two of them still kept in touch and coparented Skylar despite their abrupt divorce. If you were being honest, her and Skylar were the only people you spoke to.

Sharise told you that Vince had been in and out of rehab for a long time, but it never worked or lasted. He was still out partying and getting hammered, but on the weekends, he got sober and would play with Skylar which he needed as much as she did.

Vince had begun working on a solo career. But like the new Mötley Crüe, it was flopping. It was falling apart just like your own life.

The knife in your hand trembled. A fresh cut glistening amongst the still healing ones on your wrist.

In your head, you knew this was wrong. Even as a kid, you knew it was wrong, but you still liked it. It gave you something else to think about. It gave you something else to feel and you clung to that pain like a lifeline.

The moment the blade pierced your skin, everything else faded away. The emotional pain, the loneliness you felt deep inside, the sadness, everything.

The blade sliced through the skin on your wrist like it was butter and you watched the blood slowly drip from the cut before pressing the knife back down and doing it again, welcoming the sting of pain.

Everything else faded away around you. The pain of the cuts overtook those other feelings and emotions, and it was like a drug. You needed more, and you couldn't get enough.

Then out of nowhere, the phone suddenly rang.

It startled you so badly that the knife slipped from your fingers and hit the floor. The blood on the blade began to stain the beige carpet as you stood there and watched it.

The phone rang out and after a few long tense seconds it began to ring once again. So, you answered.

It was Vince.

You hadn't heard from him since that day at the studio. So, you knew whatever he was about to say over the phone could only be bad news.

Vince had been crying. His voice cracked and broken as he told you...

"Skylar is in hospital. She-she has a tumour in her stomach."

You dropped everything and raced to that hospital.

Nobody would tell you what was going on or let you through to see your niece. So, you paced up and down in the waiting room anxiously until your brother walked out the set of double doors and you saw him for the first time, in a long time.

He was a mess. His eyes were red from crying, his cheeks streaked with tears. He wasn't clean shaven anymore either, a small stubble beard had grown, and you realised that in your entire life, you had never seen Vince look so broken. Not when he was at his worst with alcohol and cocaine. Not when he went to jail for manslaughter. Not when he had been beaten so badly by dad, he needed to go to hospital. This was a whole new level of brokenness and your heart shattered into a million pieces.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything-" Your brother began to apologise but you didn't let him finish before you rushed across the waiting room and threw your arms around his neck hugging him tightly.

"It doesn't matter." You dismissed. And it didn't.

What he said and what went down in the studio, it didn't matter. Not anymore.

Skylar was in hospital. Nothing else mattered.

Vince's body was tense in your arms not expecting the hug, but he soon melted into your embrace and hugged you back as silent tears fell down your cheeks, staining his shirt.

"How is she?" You sniffed pulling away and wiping your eyes.

Vince's glistening brown eyes met yours and he shook his head, "it's not good."

The tumour, the doctors said, was the size of a softball. You couldn't wrap your head around how something that size could be inside the little girl. Cancer and tumours were meant to happen to old people, not your four-year-old niece.

Vince took you through to his daughter's hospital room and seeing her attached to all those tubes and machines broke you.

A week earlier, Sharise had bought Skylar over to your house to babysit. The little girl had been running circles around your legs all afternoon and made sandcastles on the beach. She was perfectly fine. So, how the hell did this happen?

"I don't like it here, Daddy." Skylar whimpered. "Make it go away."

Vince leant over the side of his daughter's bed while you sat in the chair nearby biting your lip and fighting back tears.

"I know, sweetheart. You're just gonna be here just a little while longer, okay?" Vince explained gently.

"But why?"

"Well, you see, sweetheart, you have something growing in your tummy-"

"Like when Mummy had me growing in her tummy?" She asked innocently.

"No, honey. It's more like... it's more like a flower. You have a flower growing in your tummy, but it's a type of flower that's not supposed to be in there. And the doctors, they're gonna make you sleep just a little bit while they do an operation."

Silent tears were falling down your face and you quickly wiped them away not wanting Skylar to see you cry but the tears just kept coming.

"After the doctor takes the flower out, then I can go home?"

"Yeah." Vince nodded, his voice breaking. "Yeah. Then you can go home."

You reached forward and placed a comforting hand on your brother's shoulder trying to ground him while he fought back tears himself. Vince reached up and placed his hand over your own, squeezing it gently while he smiled down at his daughter.

Operation after operation, treatment after treatment. Skylar wanted to go home, and you all kept telling her just one more day and it would all be over. But every day, the news got worse and worse.

Vince got back into drinking heavily. When he wasn't at the hospital, he was getting so drunk he couldn't even remember his own name. It was his way of dealing with the pain and you didn't know how to help him. Hell, you didn't even know how to help yourself.

Every day you went to the hospital. You sat with Skylar, reading, singing, playing games, anything to distract the little girl from her pain. And once you'd get home at the end of the day, you'd grab your knife and use it to distract yourself from your own pain.

You sat on the edge of Skylar's bed holding the little girl's hand brushing your thumb gently over the back of it in soft soothing circles. She had been crying for the last two hours in pain and after yelling at the doctors, you eventually got them to increase her pain medication to make her more comfortable.

It seemed to do the trick. Her pained wails faded into sad sobs while you held your niece in your arms and sang softly trying to calm her down. It became your nightly routine to sing her to sleep, and she clutched your hand like a lifeline until she drifted off to sleep.

Skylar was scared, and in pain. And it broke your heart into a million pieces because there was nothing you could do to help her. The only thing you were able to do was make sure she was comfortable, so that was what you did.

"She asleep?" Vince's voice whispered.

You looked up to find your brother hovering in the doorway, "yeah. It took a while."

Vince nodded walking quietly into the room before plonking himself down in his usual chair on the opposite side of her bed. He looked beyond tired and probably required a good 24 hours of sleep, but instead of going home to his own bed, he was here for his daughter. He's had a few drinks already, probably coming straight from the bar. He wasn't drunk, but you could always tell when he wasn't entirely sober.

You didn't dare comment on his drinking. It was his way of coping, and it wasn't like you could talk about unhealthy coping mechanisms when your wrist looked like a red barcode.

Skylar looked so peaceful in her sleep while you caressed your thumb over the back of her hand being mindful not to bump the IV needle that was keeping her pain at bay. Vince remained silent in his chair content with watching the two of you together.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed when out of nowhere, your brother suddenly leant forward and reached for your hand holding Skylar’s.

It took you a moment to realise what he was doing but when you looked down and saw that your sleeve had ridden up a little exposing some of the cuts, your stomach dropped.

You released Skylar's hand and pulled the sleeve back down covering the damage on your skin so Vince couldn't see, but it was too late. He already saw it.

Fuck.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

A/N: I know self-harm and cutting in particular are hard topics to talk about and not what everyone wants to read in a fanfic either, but as someone who has been through it, writing about this helps me. I am not condoning this type of behaviour, but I understand it and know how easy it is to relapse and how hard it is to stop.

I'm not going to share my personal story. I've written about it before in a different fic, but I am a few months clean now and trying to do better. If anyone else can relate, I just want you to know that you are not alone ❤️

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x you #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #vince neil #mick mars #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue x reader #the dirt #pov #imagine

77 notes · View notes