#i look a bit more normal only on thursdays

[softiedingo]

my Pedrito of every day of the week 🗓✅️

#jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedropascal #ppascaledit #lmaooooooo #this so accurate #i'm not joking #i look a bit more normal only on thursdays #friday is my fave day #i hate mondays #the last pic perfectly represents my mood #some weeks go by too fast #like really fast #i love my boy called pedrito so much #softiedingo

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

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Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

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

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

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

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon riley x reader smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Bruce has a 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality about the tabloids claiming he adopts too many kids- Developing foster homes that are paid for through the Wayne inheritance, personally vetted by the Bats, they're the leaders in the space for child health outcomes and family placement. Insert Danny.

---

Bruce has too much wealth, too many rumors and not enough reach into the abhorrent foster homes around Gotham to improve them. Tim ends up being the one to suggest it- He's the one who buys up their real estate for their safe houses after all- and Bruce is more than ready to pull the metaphorical trigger to get new clean welcoming spaces, Bat-background checked fosters and a new era of adoption in Gotham underway.

He's lobbied the state and the federal government for reforms of course, but this is a project he can micromanage. He spends time with every kid that comes through, talks with all the families that want to adopt and makes sure that these miniature homes are provided only the very best. Alfred personally hires all the staff, and with Barbara more than happy to help relocate the unhoused children she spots while they patrol, the project is a glowing success.

Occasionally, spots in their houses fill up, and those are the weeks were Cass takes on the Cowl of Batman- Bruce Wayne will personally invite a child in need to his home. He always has one of his kids present (they rotate on a pre-determined schedule) and he does his best to try and get them to understand that they deserve the world, have all the potential that anyone else has and can achieve a bright future. That he will personally aid them in their ambitions.

PR goes crazy for it of course, but Bruce and all of his children know its genuine. Almost too genuine, because a betting pool 'WILL THEY BE ADOPTED' regularly circulates between the siblings and the entire JL when someone spends time at the manor. And not just the black-haired, Blue-eyed kids get picked as favored outcomes- but obviously the running joke gets passed around.

It's a Thursday night when Bruce gets the call that the houses have once again filled up, and that there is a child in need of a home. The social worker (he knows her as Marsha and he has flowers planned to be sent on her birthday next week, like he does for all of his employees) (Say micromanaged one more time) explains that the kid is a bit cagey but has opened up with some humor. She explains that he has a few strange... mannerisms. She's not sure what to make of him, a non-gothamite for sure but something is, well, distinctly 'not from around here' about his energy.

Danny arrives at the house, meets Duke and Alfred, and by the time Bruce meets him at the dinner table it seems as though Marsha had it all wrong. This kid was laughing, he was teasing, he was totally playing along like he'd gone through nothing. Bruce is glad he's in high spirits but its just so... so different from all the other children he's taken in.

Bruce re-focuses on the conversation when Duke mentions something flashing, and its the first time that Danny goes quiet. Entirely still.

"...you noticed that?" Danny quietly asks, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You don't have a flashlight on or something do you? It was super bright whatever it is that you had in your hand a second ago?" Duke tries to sound chill but he's looking very much not chill. Bruce saw nothing, and that puts him further on edge.

"Look... I uh, I've been though... I've been through a lot lately. And the last lab I was in kind of, messed with me. I'm normally much better at dealing with it all, I promise." Danny sounds nervous, and the room seems to chill.

"Ah shoot, sorry." Danny notices something and frantically apologizes.

"Sorry for what Danny? You've done nothing wrong but I am worried about you- You said you were in a lab?" Bruce is desperately trying to calm him down while not slipping into Batman interrogation mode.

"Uh, yeah, like a lot of labs. It should get warmer in a second, its just cause I startled, I promise."

"You're a meta." Duke speaks softly and with hope in his voice- Danny is looking between them with wide eyes filled with fear.

"I mean I don't technically have the gene-"

"Danny, have you told any of your case workers where you were? Do any authorities know what you've been through?" Bruce needs to know, desperately, that who ever gave this young boy super powers is brought to justice. Danny goes quiet.

"I'm really sorry." He says softly, but he doesn't leave them.

Duke and Bruce try to ask a few more questions but the silence that meets them declares the conversation over, even with Duke admitting he himself is a meta. Danny didn't even look up from his plate. They watch a movie after dinner, and Danny seems to get back to the smile-y happy guy he had been before dinner.

Each of the bat-fam have their own interactions with Danny- And even if they're getting along amazingly, Danny won't open up. He doesn't open up to his provided therapist. Doesn't talk to Alfred. No one knows what's up.

So when Marsha calls Bruce back explaining they now have a spot for Danny and he can move out of the Manor... Bruce replies that he'd like to get started on Adoption paperwork, so long as Danny is fine with it.

---

Turns out, Danny is fine with it. he's both the newest Wayne and their newest case. (And godamnit, his new family is going to avenge him. If only he'd let them try.)

Danny figures out that Duke= Signal early on because of that dinner, and if he's going to keep his parents out of jail, he needs to be as close to the investigation as possible. He knows that he shouldn't protect the Fentons, but he feels the upset in his core at the thought of letting them befall any harm. He has to protect them. Has to protect Jazz and her hiding spot as a mole within their lab. Has to.

Even if it meant lying to his new family who loves him, and who he loves in equal return. Even if it means lying to The Bats.

---

Tabloids go crazy about the black-haired blue-eyed thing of course, but no poll was ever taken by the batfam or the JL who know the whole story.

#Danny has his powers destabilized by the various lab experiments but he's slowly getting control back #Duke notices Danny phasing his hands through the table/silverware by accident- it just looks like slight of hand tho #Danny figures out the bats and the best he can do is get adopted #friends close and enemies (lol not really) closer #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dc x dp fic #please i beg of you- write the other siblings interactions #someone tell me why I left Jazz to sabotage their parents and what to do with her next #jazz looking at danny who now has every possible resource to save them and not using it like- my guy #danny's core working against him like stockholm syndrome basically #like his protected them for this long so now he feels compulsion #danny gets adopted au #bruce adopts danny au

[shibaraki]

HELD BY YOU, FELLED BY YOU ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship, physical affection, touch starved shouto, loneliness, hugs + hand holding, fluff, only a little angst, obliviousness, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 1.4K

series masterlist: 1/5

It is 4:03pm on a Thursday afternoon. The skies are grey, and the rain is so light it’s practically a wet fog. You have not touched Shouto in any meaningful way since Monday.

Before this week Shouto was certain that he must have been absorbed into a long-standing state of neutrality and apathy as a child. He didn’t long for anything, atleast, not in the way his friends claimed to. Whiny professions of loneliness, lamenting over romantic relationships and sex or lack thereof, dreamily recounting their passionate escapades. It didn’t appeal much to him.

Shouto had what he needed to survive—to live his day to day and climb the ranks without disruption, and it seemed that affection was not one of those things. The Todoroki household had never been particularly affectionate anyway. After his mother was admitted to the psychiatric hospital touch became less associated with comfort and happiness, and more of a thing to avoid altogether.

Shouto never actually voiced an aversion to touch. He held hands with crying children as he walked them back to their parents. He rubbed the backs of countless scared victims, he let them wrap around his arm and squeeze until his fingers grew numb. He offered his left side to elderly folk in the colder weather as they waited to be loaded into an ambulance.

But these small instances were always initiated by him, and his well-meaning friends decided to leave the ball in his court sometime during highschool. It never really left.

Until—

“Can I hug you?” you blurted. Your expression quickly twisted into a sheepish grimace. “You look like you could do with one, is all”.

At that moment Shouto had been sitting in the infirmary half covered in soot and picking out the bits of rubble that managed to get inside his suit’s ventilator. He stared up at you and wondered what that would even look like on himself, lifting a hand to feel his face and finding it relatively normal.

The sound of his heart flooded his ears and he frowned at the reaction. You weren’t a new friend by any means, but Shouto scarcely made new friends so you are newer than the others. You’ve never tried to be physically affectionate but he’s caught you gazing at him fondly sometimes, when you think he’s none the wiser, and he likes it.

Shouto nodded. Why, he doesn’t know. To quell your anxiety and get rid of the awkward atmosphere, he reasoned. Then your lips pulled into a soft, pleased smile, and he felt it like the sun on his face.

You stepped forward as though approaching some skittish animal. Shouto made no move to stand. He had only watched with trepidation as your hands lifted. A breath caught in his throat as they extended to rest on his sloped shoulders. “I’ll get you dirty,” he murmured dumbly in afterthought.

“That’s okay,” you replied, barely above a whisper. Your arms slipped around his back gently, and soon tightened to a secure hold when no objection came—there could be none, because the instant Shouto’s cheek pressed against your soft stomach, a rush of adrenaline speared through him and swept away all conscious thought.

To Shouto touch was like skipping a rock through the cavity in his chest; doing it only ever made its presence more obvious. But you cradled him there for what seemed like hours and he felt warm in ways he couldn’t articulate. Your fingers danced aimless patterns along the top of his spine, sometimes pausing to curl the wispy hair at his nape around them, and he sank.

True to his word, Shouto had dirtied your clothes. He apologised when you pulled away because it was all he could do not to whimper. You didn’t spare your shirt a glance—you just smiled at him again, and said you hoped it helped.

Helped? Helped?

The weight of your embrace had lingered for hours, cloven to the forefront of his mind, clinging to the memory before it became too obscure. Only now the memory hurt him to think about, and the pervasive ache for more intensified as the days passed.

Just this morning he’d wrapped his bedsheets tight and drew them around his shoulders to simulate that same feeling. Closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, picturing you there. Your sweet, purposeful touches. Your comforting scent. Your chest rising and falling. Your voice rumbling against his cheek. Heat filled his body, like you’d reached inside and turned the spigot of his heart.

It was mortifying. And exhilarating.

Shouto stuck his hand out from the shelter of the awning and let the rain lick at his fingers. Overturning his wrist, catching them on the shallow of his palm, he contemplates how he can get you to touch him again.

Last time you said he simply looked like he needed it. Too frustrating and vague, not to mention Shouto has been needing it all week. You could have meant his grimy post-battle appearance, but he didn’t really think this should warrant being thrown from another high rise building. Maybe he has to earn it this time.

You’re standing beside him, too preoccupied by the emails on your phone to notice his dilemma. Things have been fine. No awkwardness on your part, which he should probably be pleased about, but his mind keeps veering beyond rational conjecture. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. It all felt too one sided.

Shouto gives you a sidelong glance. You might be the only person he knows that can look alluring in the dreary afternoon light. With a sigh he lets his hand drop to his hip and wipes it on his dry suit.

Your thumbs move fast across the screen. “Sorry, Shouto. I promise I’m not ignoring you—just need to reply to this intern,” you tell him. “God, have I ever mentioned how much I hate the email software your agency uses? Because I do”.

He hums, “You have”.

Whatever you hear in his voice has you looking up. There’s a crease etched in your brow, expression open and apologetic. Your gaze flickers to the hand held to his front, where he’s working out the static in his knuckles.

“Are you cold?” you ask, pocketing your phone. It’s a silly question. He is a walking furnace. But Shouto is statuesque as you reach to cup his distinctly bigger hand with your own. Heat prickles under his skin. The staccato of his heart kicks up. You lean down to exhale a warm breath over his fingers, and stroke your thumb along the dips and peaks of his knuckles.

Shouto sends a mental apology to Kaminari for the halfhearted response he gave after a long, lovestruck monologue about his girlfriend’s hands. He thinks he gets it, now.

Your lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Better?” you scan his face and the smile falters. “Shit. Sorry, Shouto. I should’ve asked,” then you’re retreating again and—

He reflexively grabs your wrist. It’s a loose grip, enough for you to free yourself from. You pause. “No,” a puff of steam billows out from his mouth and he has enough presence of mind to be embarrassed by it. “…It’s fine. You don’t have to stop”.

Your concern dwindles into amusement as he wafts it away. “Alright,” you say placatingly. The tension alleviates, and when your fingers slip against his you immediately twine them together, taking the ache in his chest with it. “Is this ‘fine’ too?”

Shouto nods, not yet trusting his voice or his quirk.

“I wasn’t sure if I crossed any lines on Monday,” your eyes dipped to stare at the pavement as you continued. “I know you aren’t touchy feely like the others. They were… surprised when I mentioned the hug”.

“I didn’t think I was,” he swallows, flexing his fingers to squeeze your hand. “I liked it”.

You squeeze back, “You did?”

Shouto squeezes harder, and can’t stop the smile coming unbidden to his lips. “I did,” he says.

You meet his gaze. He’s pinned by that fond look you always try to hide from him. “Do you want another one, then?”

“But I didn’t do anything”.

A litany of emotion passes over your face at his response. There’s determination in the purse of your lips as you step into his space, entangled hands caught between your bodies. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you tuck your nose into the hollow where his jaw met his neck.

There’s a clumsiness to his movements as he follows your lead and slips his arm around your back. Head suddenly too heavy for his neck, he rests his cheek on your crown, melting into the embrace.

“You don’t need to earn my affection, Shouto. Not now and not ever”.

“Oh,” Shouto breathes. “I can just ask?”

“You can,” you laugh softly.

Why hadn’t he thought to just—ask. That is far more reasonable than being flung from another burning high rise.

“What?”

Ah. He pulls you further into his chest until you’re pressed together like the pages of a book. “Nothing”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader

[mrchiipchrome]

The Mechanic

W.C. - 4.2k

A/n: This was a bit rushed and not very good but anyways I’m going to bed now

——————————

Growing up, your father had been a mechanic and when you had days off from school he would bring you down to the auto shop he owned and worked at. Later, that would turn into you spending your afternoons and weekends down at the shop, learning everything there was to know about cars and how to repair them.

After graduating secondary school you were employed by the shop you had grown up in, rising through the ranks like any usual person would their job. You had close to no help from your father after your employment, he had always been clear that you had to work to get to your position especially if you wanted to one day inherit the shop.

So when your father died, you had more than enough experience with how to run an auto shop. In reality you were nothing less than a parentless kid trying to navigate their way through life without their biggest role model and simultaneous favorite person.

But eventually you found your footing, with the help of a bit of therapy that you'd gone to reluctantly, and had managed to find the balance between repairing cars and handling everything else that came with owning your own mechanic shop.

Still you consider yourself lucky, lucky for having Mitch who had been helping you with all the financials and all the other confusing things.

Mitch, or as you knew him Uncle Mitch, had been one of your father’s childhood friends and had been around since before you had been born. He was there for your father when your mother decided that she didn’t want to be part of your life and when he had no choice but to become a single father. He took you to school on the days your father couldn’t and helped you with school work.

So when a very pretty girl with car problems appeared one day, he was the first one to tease you about your obvious starstruck behavior.

—-

08.00 on a thursday and you’ve already been at work for a few hours, finishing up some paperwork and a couple small repairs on easier cars before all the other mechanics came in at 9. Hearing someone walk in through the open garage door is not an unusual feat, in fact you were used to your other mechanics coming in a bit earlier, so when uncertain footsteps echo in the peopleless shop you don’t roll out from where you’re situated under the car.

“Um, hi. My car just broke down like 2 minutes from here and I have no idea what to do.”

The soft fleeting voice is feminine and unfamiliar, definitely not one of your mechanics with their gruff chain smoking voices. Your head perks up and the hand holding the wrench from your tool set stills. With hands covered in soot and oil like most of your work clothes, you slide out from your place underneath the car.

“What seems to be the problem with it? Did it indicate something might've been wrong before it broke down? Any unusual sounds…?” Your voice trails off as you see the gorgeous blonde standing there looking around in curiosity, seeing all the different cars around the large shop. You just stand there, like an idiot seemingly enamored by the pretty stranger in front of you. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge your clear inability to act like a normal human as she directs her eyes toward you, eyes not even the greatest poets could try to describe.

The woman fiddles with the rings adorning her slender fingers as she rushes to explain the moments prior to her car stopping functioning.

“Oh god, yeah. I was supposed to come in for an oil change but then out of nowhere, my car started to make these kinds of crunching sounds and then there was a slight pop before it just broke down. Since I was supposed to come here, I knew it wasn’t that far so I left it with my friend and ran here for help”

The stress she’s feeling is evident in her actions and a surprising sense of protectiveness overtakes you, a feeling you can only describe as wanting to wrap her up in bubble wrap and protect her from the cruel world.

“Alright, have you called a tow truck yet?” The blush that immediately covers her face indicates that she had not, apparently not thinking that far. A sly smile takes over your face, fingers wrapping around a towel laying haphazardly on the deep red metal bench.

The soot and grime your fingers are covered in transfers over to the white surface of the towel, more soot at your hairline and your nose.

“You’re in luck miss, we have our very own tow truck.” Your hands shake deliberately as you try to lighten the mood, leading the blonde girl over to the regular truck you had. It was an old model, but damn if that car didn’t run perfectly. It had been a gift from Mitch for your 18th birthday, he knew that you adored putting excessive amounts of effort into your projects, and that car was truly a piece of work.

It had taken you a few short weeks to get it done, you were somewhat of a prodigy.

“Hey, take the passenger seat! I need you to show me where your car broke down.” You shouted as the blonde girl made no motion to move in any direction. She slowly shuffles her feet towards the car,enjoying the way your eyes raked over her body.

“Okay, so basically it’s just up the road, you’ll see a tiny dutchie standing beside it panicking.” She laughs softly as the last words escape her mouth, and in that exact moment you decide that it’s the greatest, most beautifully enticing melody ever created.

Your eyes are glued to the road, knowing that if you were to look into her eyes once more you’d get stuck looking at her. She felt like home even though you’d just met her moments before.

“Oh yeah? Why do you have a tiny Dutch person in your car?” The banter with you the girl you’d yet to get the name of was like you’d been friends for decades, you easily bounced retorts back and forth like great friends would.

“My teammate, we were driving to training and then my car decided that it didn’t want to work anymore. Wait, I haven’t phoned Jonas yet, I’m so dead.” You didn’t understand what she was talking about at the last part, the girl seemingly talking to herself.

Just like the woman beside you had said, there was a seemingly frantic short woman besides a white Mercedes. “How’d you know?” You ask the woman sitting in your car, her expression silly beyond comprehension. Her tongue was trapped between her teeth, her bright smile on display and her nose scrunched up adorably.

“A magician never reveals his secrets, right?” She fixes you with another cheeky smile, dark pink lips pulled together in the most admirable way. She was nothing if not perfect.

Her eyes shine brightly as you pull up next to her blinking car, the Dutch girl pulling the door open with a surprising amount of strength.

“Less, we are so late, Jonas is going to kill us!” Her foreign accent is quite noticeable, not that it bothers you. What did bother you was the way she threw the door of your beloved car up so violently.

“Yeah Vic, I know.” Less, as you’d come to know, told the other girl, Vic. Vic’s eyes flit over to you, taking in your non-threatening appearance and awkward smile. You wave at her before exiting your truck.

“So if you don’t mind, I’ll just pop your hood and try to find the problem.” You spoke to the taller of the two girls in front of you, who nodded her head vigorously, allowing you to do whatever it was you needed.

The smoke that escaped from beneath the hood concerned you, as did the heat of the motor beneath your fingers. It didn’t look too good for the blonde’s car, but for both her and your sake, you didn’t tell her.

“Well it’s definitely a problem with the engine, that much I’ll tell you.” A bit of worry seeps into your tone and Alessia doesn’t seem to like it.

“But my car will be fine right?” She was worried beyond recognition.

“Yeah, they say that I’ve got magic fingers for a reason” You sent her a quick wink, the statement true in both ways. The blonde’s face darkened significantly, red sprouting at every soft turn of the face.

“Okay there Casanova, why don’t you just hook the car to yours and take it back to the shop?” The dutchie’s tone left no room for argument, clearly she was protective of the blonde.

Pulling the wires from your trunk, you quickly hooked her car to yours in a safe way, making sure that her keys were out of the ignition and that her car was completely turned off.

Vic jumped into the backseat begrudgingly whilst Less took her place in the passenger seat.

You drove back to the garage in a slow pace, not wanting to damage the car behind more, plus you got to have the beautiful blonde in your car for longer.

“Less, how are we supposed to get to training if your car’s like that?” The girl in the backseat frowns at the blonde through the mirror, but you’re already multiple steps ahead, having put your thinking hat on before.

“I can drive you, and if y’all want we can take my coolest car too.” You spoke up nonchalantly, even though you were riddled with anxiety inside.

Less shakes her head softly, putting a soft and warm hand on your shoulder, stroking down your arm.

“It’s no problem really, we’ll just take an Uber.” She waves you off, despite seeming quite excited at the prospect of showing up to ‘training’ in a cool car.

“It’s no bother, my mechanics don’t come in until 9 so I’ve got time to kill. Plus, I haven’t been able to take the baby out for a while, needed to fix her up a little after the last time.” You laugh out, hand coming up to rub at the back of your head as you pull into the workshop.

“Take your things from your car and follow me.” The two of them do exactly as you say, getting their duffle bags from the white car.

You take them to the very back of the workshop, back to the garage where you kept your most prized possessions. In the smack middle it stood, your baby.

A 1968 Ford Mustang.

It was a gorgeous, shiny black color and you’d picked up a fair few ladies with it, just like your father did before you. He’d got it from his father, they’d started working on it before your grandfather died, and your father vowed to complete the work with his child.

Unluckily, your very own father died before the project was done, and so you were left to finish it.

“Here’s my beauty, my 1968 Ford Mustang, ain’t she a beaut?” You asked the two girls, standing behind you with their mouths wide open.

“Where’d you get it? Aren’t they super expensive?” Vic asked and Less slapped her arm harshly at the latter question.

“Passed down to me and yes, they’re incredibly expensive.” You could see how their eyes looked over your car, it was safe, modernized just enough so that it wouldn’t lose its charm.

“Right, you two can squabble about who sits in the passenger seat and who sits in the back, I’ll take your bags though, no scratching my paint.” You pluck their bags from their hands and put them in the trunk whilst Less and Vic actually squabbled.

Eventually, it was Less who won the battle, her hair blowing in the cool wind that passed you by as you drove. You’d gotten the address from the younger of the two as soon as you all got settled in the car.

When you finally pull up in front of the seeming training center, it’s to the sight of multiple girls standing with mixed expressions. Some were stern, others were shocked and some were confused.

“Alessia Russo, Victoria Pelova, where have you been?” The short woman at the front asks sternly, though shock does seem to flutter over her face for a second as she clocks your ride.

“Well my car broke down so I walked to the workshop not too far away-“ Alessia starts sheepishly, her fingers scratching at her forearm.

“Where she met Casanova, who decided to help by getting Lessi’s car to the shop and then driving us here in her sweet ride.” Vic finishes off Alessia’s sentence, patting your shoulder as she climbs out of the car. Alessia once again blushes at the name Vic gave you, just as you roll your eyes at it.

“You have a really beautiful car, miss.” One of the more sheepishly shy looking girls tells you, she had an accent you just couldn’t place.

“Thank you dear, tell me, where is it you come from? I can’t place your accent.” You ask her softly, not wanting to scare the young girl.

“Uhm, Denmark miss.” She looks down at her feet, shuffling them around as she blushes more than usual.

“Oh, I’ve never been, do you have any recommendations for me when I visit?” That seems to set the young girl off as she starts to babble on about different places to visit and where you could find the best food.

Alessia looks on as you engage with her teammate, with you leaning back on the side of your car and Katherine standing in front of you.

A sudden loud noise comes from your phone, and you recognise it as the jingle you’d put for Mitch.

“Hey uncle Mitch, whatchu calling me for?” You answer the call quickly, waving a little at the girls you’d met before.

“Where are you? The shop’s empty and I don’t know if I need to remind you, but your employees arrive in 10 minutes.” He was pretty clearly stressed about your current predicament.

“Oh shit, listen Mitch I needed to help a client and I took the Mustang so I’ll be back in like, 5 minutes.” You knew that he knew exactly why you’d taken the mustang, it was simply a lady magnet.

“A ‘client’ of course, that's what your dad always said when he wanted some alone time if you know what I mean.” Even if you couldn’t see your uncle’s face you knew that he was smiling and winking slyly. Your face scrunches up uncomfortably at the insinuation, not really wanting to know of your father’s ‘endeavours’ before you.

“Ew gross Mitchy, it’s not like that.” The whisper-shout you let out into the mic has the women around you looking at you weirdly.

“Alright, alright, I’ll open for the guys but you make sure that you don’t get in too late, you still have that car from a couple days ago to finish.” Rolling your eyes at the older man, you climb back into the car and put the keys into the ignition, turning the car on and saying a quick goodbye to the girls you’d given a ride to, telling the gorgeous blonde that her car would be done in the next few days.

You were fully on the road when the blonde realized that you hadn’t given her your number, which meant that she didn’t know when her car would be done.

You on the other hand knew exactly what you were to do when the car was done, it really wasn’t hard to make the plan.

—————

“Uncle Mitch? I’m going away for like an hour to help a client, so let the guys go on break for an hour and a half. They sure do need it.” You call out for your uncle who found himself at the shop more often than not.

“Okay kid, just make sure not to fool around too much okay? I know how you are-“ He starts off with a large smile on his face before you interrupt him with your own sentence.

“Yeah just like my father, I know, it’s kind of who I was raised by, you know.” You smile at the old man whose hair was graying and face wrinkled. He was like another father figure.

“Yeah, yeah, off you go to see Juliet.” He responds, shooing you out of the main room and towards the private garage where your Mustang was located.

“What is it with people naming us after old romance stories?!” You say exasperated, but the blush covering your face tells a different tale.

Revving up your car, you quickly pull out of the garage and pull out onto the road. The wind blows through your hair and the freeing feeling makes you smile, the hot summer breeze never failing you.

As you pull up to the training grounds there’s a large group of people exiting the building, training bags over their shoulders as they talk eagerly with each other. They do notice the car that didn’t fit in, black leather seats and black shiny exterior.

When their resident clumsy friend spots the car she trips over her feet, luckily enough for her, Vic is right beside her and she manages to catch the falling forward. It’s no easy feat by any means, but the smaller midfielder manages to pull her back to her feet.

When you pull up next to them, she comes up to greet you.

“Hi Casanova” She starts off, smile splitting her face open from ear to ear. Your face mirrors hers, the stupid nickname seemingly stuck around.

“Hi Alessia, I was popping by to pick you up as the work on your car is done.” The forward eagerly puts her bag in your backseat before she’s plopping down in your passenger seat. She smiles even wider as she realizes the soft rock flowing out from your radio. All of a sudden her face turns into a mess of confusion and a bit of fear.

“Wait, how did you know when my training ended?” She was staring deep into your soul, eyes glistening in the sun.

“Well I had a little help.” Turning around to face her Dutch friend, you can see the way she winks at the blonde sitting beside you, who merely raises an eyebrow at her. There were more questions to be answered but she decided that it wasn’t worth the effort.

“Are you ready to go back to the garage?” You ask her softly, her face just so enticing that you could do no more than whisper in her presence. She nods her head though and as you’re pulling out of the parking lot you both hear a:

“Don’t forget protection!”

The blush that comes over her face makes her look like an overly ripe tomato, though you don’t have much to say, looking like a tomato yourself.

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, Alessia looking out at the streets of London like she'd never seen anything like them before and you admiring her at every red light. It’s not until you pull up at the shop that she looks at you properly, her eyes glimmering.

“So if you just follow me out here, I’ll lead you to your good as new car.” She exits your car to follow you out and towards her own, the Mercedes that you’d put extra time and effort into. Nothing but the best for the gorgeous girl.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to save the day, I really do owe you one.” Her seemingly never ending smile shines even brighter at the sight of her car, and as she turns to you it seems to get impossibly brighter.

“Well it’s my job you know, I kind of own the place.” It’s a hastily thrown out comment that seemingly piques her interest, Alessia’s hand coming up to rest on your slightly sooty arm.

“How do you own this place? I don’t mean it in a condescending way or anything but it’s just that you’re so young and pretty and you don’t seem like the type to buy a workshop.” She rambles in her nervousity, eyes shifting around the shop like they’d done only days before.

“I inherited it from my dad, the same with my car. He uhm, he died and my mom is like fully out of the picture so I got most of his stuff, my uncle Mitch also got some stuff but I was the main person.” She was so easy to talk to, you’d only met her days before and it felt like you’d known each other for years. Your dads death wasn’t something that you talked about often or with most people, so your heart had really taken a wild leap for the young striker.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, I know that he’s watching you with pride wherever he is.” Her hand rubs up and down your arm comfortingly, smiling sorrowfully at you as you recount your grief at the most important person in your life’s death.

“It’s not your fault, he lived his life to the fullest so I know that he was content when he died…” Alessia notices the want to change the topic of your conversation and so she shifts it to something more trivial.

“Uhm, how much do you want me to pay for this?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly at the whiplashing change of topic.

“You can pay with a hug and a kiss?” You joke lightly but it seems like the forward takes it seriously, as her hands come up to slither back around your neck, fingers tangling in your baby hairs.

Big hands settle on the blonde’s waist as she moves her face closer to yours, leaning up to rest her lips against yours in a soft embrace.

The kiss is nothing short of magical and as her tongue pokes against your lips you open your lips, basically french kissing the girl in the middle of your workshop. The kiss only breaks apart as whistles from your employees ring out throughout the shop, the guys having come back from their break.

When they finally quiet down it’s by the threat of you withholding their next paycheck and they all look away as you peck the girl’s lips a few more times before letting her leave in her fixed up Mercedes.

“Not a word of this to Mitch.” You look at them all sternly, but the knowledge that all of them had basically watched you grow up made you realize that they definitely weren’t scared of your empty threats. They sealed the deal by chuckling at you before turning back to their individual projects.

————-

In the weeks following the blonde leaving your motor shop she’d come in more than once for imaginary problems with her car, which you knew was just an excuse to see you. No one had that many problems with their car.

When she comes in fully unexpected one Thursday it’s with a fleeting problem with her motor from before.

“Hi Y/n, my car has been acting up a little again, mind checking it out for me?” She pops her head into the shop after hours, you’d just been finishing up some paperwork that needed to be done.

“Alessia, you do know that you can just ask me out on a date instead of making up problems with your car?” You prayed that you’d read the situation right, otherwise it’d be quite the awkward conversation.

“Oh thank you, it’s really hard to just come up with problems out of the blue” Her body leans on her hands that are now pressed against your desk, her face close to yours.

“So, are you going to ask me?” You ask her the question you’d been thinking about for a while, her face and the tops of her ears turning red.

“Y/n/n do you want to go on a date with me?” She asks nervously, like you’d ever reject a girl like her, a beautiful and kind soul that did nothing if not light your day up with her made up problems.

“Of course I would Less.” You respond to the girl, only for her to lean forward and capture your lips with her own. People always talk about the first kiss, but the second kiss was always so much better, and all the kisses after that were pretty great too.

Who would’ve thought, a footballer and a mechanic getting together, the very own Casanova and Juliet of the world.

Maybe some weird romance book would be written about it in a few years, but for now you were content with watching the stars with your gorgeous girlfriend in your less gorgeous (but still very beautiful) car, sharing deep kisses into the night.

#woso #alessia russo #unc soccer #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #lionesses #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso fanfics

[andromeda-nova-writing]

A Sticky Situation

Wriothesley x Fem! Reader

Summary: With the sticker count rising higher and higher that week, it has finally reached a point where Wriothesley needed it to slow down for his sanity.

Words: 1,766

AN: I love stickers. I want to join Sigewinne in her bet.

Wriothesely had found what had to be the fifth sticker he had peeled off of his jacket just that morning alone. Not to mention it was the forty-second sticker that week and it was only Thursday morning. Usually, this prank from Sigewinne and the other Melusine wouldn’t bother him too much. It was harmless after all. But Forty-Two Stickers??? All in the same week?

Was it always this many and people were taking them off for him without telling him in pity? No, he would have noticed that if that was the case. It wasn’t like Sigewinne also had more Melusine friends visiting her more than normal. Maybe he really was a bad influence on Sigewinne if her bets had gone this far. Hopefully, that would be the extent of his influence and nothing else.

The one question he couldn’t get out of his mind besides how they were getting so many stickers was, where they were getting so many stickers from. It wasn’t like they got this many stickers sent down here from the overworld or that Sigewinne had the time to make so many stickers. And he hadn’t seen many of Sigewinne’s friends come to the Fortress of Meropide that week. It had to be Sigewinne who was currently winning that bet.

None of it made sense at this point. And what didn’t make even more sense was that he just found a sixth sticker on his boot. Maybe it was time to at least slow her pranks down. He wouldn’t stop them but this was starting to get disruptive. At least make her understand not to sticker on the leather of clothes. It never felt like it cleaned off right. He just hoped by bringing it up the sticker amount would go down instead of jumping it up higher as a challenge.

Making his way out of his office he took a glance around his surroundings. A peak over at the cafeteria had him spotting exactly who he wanted to talk to. Sigewinne was talking to her pharmacist friend from the overworld, a lovely woman who had taken it upon herself to sub in to try and help give Sigewinne a break to join her Melusine friends in the overworld. It made Y/N quite helpful as well if Sigewinne ever requested a set of extra hands as she was more comfortable around the Fortress than anyone else they would send down.

She flipped through a book leaning down just enough to show Sigewinne without causing her to strain her neck. Whatever the two were discussing had caused them to laugh aloud. “Personally, this one is my favorite. Its eyes are bigger than the shark's body."

Yeah, that was different from the normal pharmaceutical talk he never followed along with. It's easy to lose track of everything being referred to in great detail due to its chemical composition. This conversation even a child could follow.

"I take it your lunch went well.” He said making his presence known. 

Y/N closed up the book the two were going through handing it off to Sigewinne before standing straight up. “It did. I brought some muffins I bought down to share. How’s your day going so far your Grace?” She looked at him and smiled.

His eyes followed the book that had been handed off. “It's been okay.” He looked back up at Y/N’s face. “What happened to you thinking calling me that was weird?”

“You’re working at the moment. I can respect the professionalism within it even if it feels weird to say. Sigewinne and I were just finishing up.” She bit her lip holding her smile from getting any bigger.

“Anything you need?” Sigewinne asked making sure that the plain back of the book was facing his line of sight. She counted the stickers she could still see on him. There were 4 left. 5 if the one she placed on his chair made it on him.

“Can you at least not place any stickers on leather?” He bargained.

“Hmmm. I don’t see any on leather.” He must have peeled most of those ones off already. Pity. 

“I’ve counted forty-three this week. At least twenty of them were on leather. I don't care as long as they aren’t on the leather. Takes too long to clean off right.”

Y/N covered her mouth trying not to laugh. “Fourty-three?” Sigewinne had to be in the lead for sure.

Wriothesley frowned. He really didn’t want to have to bring her into this. “And do you want to tell me what medicine the two of you have been going on about that contains a shark with eyes bigger than its body?”

Annnnnnd Caught.

“I should go back to the infirmary. Someone might have shown up by now.” Sigewinne excused herself before she lost what Y/N had come down to give her.

She looked down at a nonexistent watch on her arm. “Oh look at the time. I should go.” She tried to walk away towards the exit only for Wriothesley to grab her arm and pull her back. “I didn’t dismiss you.”

 She turned her head over her shoulder looking back at him. “I’m not working for you today.” “Doesn’t matter. What was the book about?”

“Nothing to worry about. You do see how inappropriate this looks to everyone else. I can practically feel your heartbeat against my back.” “You’ve given me hugs in front of inmates before. We’ll be fine. I’ll let go when you tell me what was in the book.”

"Cause you won a match in the ring. I was high on adrenaline." She rolled her eyes at the memory. "Don't tell me you enjoyed it." She teased. 

"Don't change the subject.

“I’m perfectly on topic. I don’t know what you are so pressed about.”

“Do you understand that anything that comes within the Fortress without my knowledge can be considered contraband?"

Y/N pulled out of his loose grip and began walking towards the infirmary. He followed right behind. "Contraband? You do understand that Sigewinne and I are free people who work and sometimes work here."

"I know that. I asked nicely the first time."

"Nicely? You manhandled me." “I think we are running off of two very different definitions.” He lightly elbowed her side. “I have a feeling you’d enjoy that anyway.”

She rolled her eyes hiding a small laugh that tried to creep into her voice. “Wriothesley.” She attempted to scold him.

“We can unpack all of that on a different day.”

“It would be a short day with nothing to unpack.” She sped up her walk. It was hard to take his flirting seriously when there was still a sticker in his hair. He’d benefit from keeping a mirror on his person if the stickers were becoming a problem.

Upon entering the infirmary, Sigewinne and Ottnit were flipping through the infamous book. Laughing. Plotting when to strike their prank next. The two Melusines were clearly enjoying themselves. 

“Hi, girls.” Y/N greeted them as she and Wriothesley walked down the stairs towards them. “I’ve been assumed of bringing in contraband. May I see the book for a moment?” She held out her hand as Sigewinne passed her the book. “You do know we aren’t inmates here.” Sigewinne frowned at Wriothesley. “Told him that already.” She showed the open book to Wriothesley. “Happy now?”

His mouth dropped in shock. “I trusted you. Have you been the one supplying them?”

“Stickers are cute. I’m just giving my friends a gift. I don’t think that's betraying your trust.”

“Tell that to all the sticky residue on my jacket and boots. It won’t even come off right.” He complained. “Twenty of them on leather. I’m just covered in sticky dust.”

The three of them couldn’t help but finally break out laughing. Y/N invested her money in the right thing if he was to look this cute pouting. He crossed his arms frowning in an attempt to save himself from turning into a dust ball at the rate it was going.

Y/N handed the book back to Sigewinne. “Ottnit could you get me some baby oil and a few cotton balls.”

“Sure.” She went off and bought back the supplies. Sigewinne went off, setting the sticker book down on her table before sitting on a chair watching the faces of the two infirmary guests. 

Y/N took one of the cotton balls and dabbed a bit of the baby oil on it. Ottnit took the bottle of baby oil back. She grabbed one of the sleeves of the jacket and peeled off a sticker he had missed. Wriothesley frowned as she placed the sticker on his nose.

“You are doing a horrible job helping.” He took the sticker off his face and crumbled it up in his hand.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “My grandpa was a leather worker. He told me if there was any sticky residue on any leather, take some baby oil and rub it over it with a cotton ball.” She said as she cleaned off the sleeve of the jacket. She handed the used cotton ball to Ottnit before taking a clean one. “Dry it off with another cotton ball and then it's good as new.” 

Wriothesley looked over the sleeve. It was a lot better than his attempts. He sighed. “This doesn’t mean you can keep placing stickers on my jacket or boots,” he told Sigewinne and Ottnit. They were going to keep doing it anyway.

“Nothing to be angry about now.” Y/N dropped the sleeve of the jacket and handed the cotton ball to Ottnit. Ottnit went and threw away the used ones before putting up the baby oil.

“I wasn’t angry.”

“Good cause I’m going to keep giving them stickers.” She reached up pulled a sticker out of hair and placed that one on his nose as well. “I think they look good on you Ri.”

He rolled his eyes before repeating his action from before. “I’m not sure if you know the meaning of help.”

Y/N laughed. “I really need to get back to the surface. This lunch break has been going on a little long. I’ll see you later.” She turned around saying her goodbyes to Sigewinne and Ottnit before leaving the infirmary.

Wriothesley hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left her till she was out of sight.

Ottnit sighed shaking her head. “You were right.”

Sigewinne smiled knowing she just won herself even more stickers. “When do you plan on asking her out?”

His head turned over to her. “Forty-five stickers. You get no say in this right now.”

#Wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #Wriothesley #genshin impact

[lacroixwh0r3]

The First Taste (p. 3)

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You thought that it was just going to be you and your dad watching football together, but a lonely Joel comes over to join you two.

Warnings: SMUT!! pet names, porn with little plot, dom!joel, age gap, PiV, daddy kink, joel is a little bit of a perv, cursing, breast play?, reader and joel almost caught by reader's dad, teasing, fingering, slight dom!reader, hair pulling, football, joel is lonely, mentions of sarah, tommy, and maria

Song Inspo (feel free to listen if you want): Bathroom by Montell Fish

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: not me being gone for months...i swear i did not forget about yall! i had this saved in a google doc since november and haven't had the time nor motivation to finish it until now YAY

Enjoy babies! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333

It was a shame—there you were, sitting on the couch at home on a Thursday night, waiting for your dad to get back from the store so the two of you could have some snacks while watching football. You didn’t know much about the sport, but it’s not like you had nothing better to do.  

You called your friend and asked her if she would be down to hang out tonight, but lately, she would much rather hang out with her boyfriend than her best friend. While you were a little disappointed by her response, a part of you also felt relieved by her answer. 

It’s not like you had much energy these days after recently getting a job as a teacher assistant at the local elementary school, and while it had been a job that you enjoyed a lot, it was also a demanding job that took a lot of your energy. You were constantly running back and forth from the classroom to the copy room to grab a stack of papers for the teacher, occasionally having to console kids or sometimes having to stop a lesson because someone peed themselves. The teachers would also ask you to create lessons for the day, which took up a lot of your free time outside of the classroom. You didn’t mind it though; after all, it is your job, and more often than not, the kids were sweet and would be on their best behavior depending on the day. 

Today was different; you weren’t as tired as you usually are after work, you didn’t have any work to do, and you had the day off tomorrow. And for that, you were grateful. 

You were lazily stretched out on the couch, watching whatever was on ESPN before the game was set to start. You check your phone for the time and notice that it is almost 8 o'clock and your dad isn't back yet. 

It shouldn’t take him this long to get back, you think to yourself. 

You decide to call him to check up on him, but as soon as you press his contact, you hear a knock at the front door. This confused you for a second because your dad usually used his key to open the door, but maybe he couldn’t since he was carrying bags. You get off the couch and walk to the front door. 

“Took you long enou-” you say right as you swing the door, thinking that it was your dad. However, you cut yourself off when you realized who it was. 

No, it was not your dad, but the last person you were expecting to see today. 

The one and only Joel-fucking-Miller  

“Joel,” you try to sound as normal as possible, but it was obvious from your tone that you were shocked. “W-what are you doing here?” You asked him. You could see the corner of his lips quirk up at your nervousness before going back to his usual serious look. 

It’s not like it is uncommon for Joel to be over at your house, but it was usually during the times you were out of the house. Or your dad would be the one to greet him at the door. After Tommy and Maria moved away and Sarah was out of the house more, Joel's appearances at your house became more frequent. 

“Just here to watch the game with your dad,” he says as he points inside the house. “You mind if I come in, darlin’?” 

“Shit! I’m sorry,” you say, opening the door wider and moving out of the way. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says as he enters. You could smell his warm scent just as he walked right past you, making you almost want to go and throw yourself onto him. 

As you were closing the door, you closed your eyes and let out a loud sigh before making your way back to the couch. You felt like a baby deer walking for the first time because you could feel Joel’s eyes on you. And to make matters worse, your legs had brushed against his as you passed by him, causing you to apologize immediately as if he were going to eat you for accidentally touching him. 

“You’re fine, sweetheart,” he chuckles. You sigh with relief before sitting down on the couch, leaving a seat between the two of you. 

The two of you sat there in silence—you sat there tense, while Joel sat there relaxed and unaffected. 

A sense of guilt crept up on you as you sat there, looking at the TV screen in deep thought. 

It had been about two years since whatever that was between you and Joel at the lake, and you still felt guilt whenever your dad would bring him up to you. 

Whenever Joel did come around, he usually brought Sarah with him, and you would hang out with her most of the time. You felt bad for using Sarah as an escape from her dad, but you couldn’t deal with being around Joel.

“Your dad told me about that new job of yours,” Joel asked you, causing you to look over at him. He was looking at you with frowning eyebrows and eyes full of curiosity. “How’s it goin’?”

“It’s nice; it’s fun working with the kids and all that stuff.” You say, sounding a little too enthusiastic. 

“That’s good, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.” He says sincerely, and the dimple on his cheek deepens as he gives you a small grin, almost causing your heart to jump out of your chest.  

Thanks. You say lowly as your face warms up at his words. You liked hearing him say he was proud of you; it made you feel tingly and warm inside. “How’s Sarah been? I haven't seen her around lately,” you say as you try to replace the silence that fell over you two. 

"Oh, that girl—she's hardly ever home these days,” Joel sighs in defeat as he scratches his graying beard. “I can’t even get her to sit down and have a meal with me,” he said lowly. 

All you could do was stare at Joel with a sympathetic look. 

Looking up from his lap, Joel's eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at you. Watching as you stared at him with your lips frowned down. “Don’t look at me like I'm some wounded animal, sweet girl. I’ll be just fine.” His southern accent sounds more prominent as he says it. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you looked away from him, feeling embarrassed for some reason. 

Joel was about to say something to you before you heard the sounds of keys at the front door. You knew that it must’ve been your dad at the door, struggling to get his keys, so you helped him. However, Joel stopped you from getting up after he put his arm in front of you as he got off the couch. 

“I’ll help him, sweetheart,” he says as he winks at you and makes his way to the door to help your dad.  

Oh, Joel.

As soon as Joel opens the door, they both loudly greet each other. He grabs the bags out of your dad's hands and makes his way to the kitchen, where he helps him put things away.

A part of you knew deep down that it was going to be a long night. 

…

About halfway through the game, you were falling asleep as you sat comfortably in the corner of the couch, covered in your blanket. However, your dad and Joel made sure to keep you up as they talked loudly to each other or even loudly cursed at the TV. 

Suddenly, your dad’s phone began to ring loudly, interrupting their conversation. 

You could hear the groan of the leather recliner as your dad stretched out so that he could reach into his pocket to grab his phone. 

“Ah, fuck,” your dad says as he looks at the caller ID. “Gotta take this real quick,” your dad says as he gets up and looks at Joel. “Let me know what happens,” he says as he gestures to the TV, to which Joel nods his head. Joel watched as your dad shuffled down the hall and into his office before shutting the door behind him. 

It was now just the two of you, alone. 

You knew he was watching you because you could feel Joel’s gaze burning into your skin, and you were trying your hardest not to look at him. You sat there, as stiff as a board, as your breathing began to pick up.

“You alright there, darlin’? You look a little nervous over there."

“I’m fine, Joel,” you said curtly as you kept your eyes on the TV. 

He lets out a deep hum, and you almost feel yourself relax as you believe that is the end of your interaction. But Joel speaks again: “Why don’t you come sit with me, sweetheart?" he said as he patted the open spot next to him on the couch. 

You look over at him, and you see that he has this smirk on his face. “I ain’t gonna bite you too hard, baby,” he winks at you with a click of his tongue. You felt

“Come on and be a good girl before your daddy comes back, yeah?” 

It was evident that Joel knew how to talk to you and get you to do anything he wanted because you hesitantly rose off of the couch and made your way over to him. His devilish smirk grows wider, making you even more nervous. 

Just as you are about to sit down next to him, Joel grabs your hips with his strong hands, causing you to let out a yelp as you plop down on his lap. And there you were, sitting sideways on his lap with your back against the arm of the couch. 

You could feel the anger bubbling inside of you at his actions. You were upset that he would grab you like that. 

You turned your head to look at Joel as you began to quietly scold him, afraid that your dad would come out of his office and find you sitting on his friend's lap. “Are you actually out of your fucking mind, Joel? What if my dad-”

Before you could continue, Joel cut you off by placing his warm hand on your thigh with that smirk still on his face. "Oh, darlin’, we’re just sitting here,” he says while looking at you with his brown eyes as he begins to stroke close to your inner thigh with his fingers. “Unless you want me to do somethin’ else," he almost whispers to you as he strokes his fingers further up your thigh. 

You turned your focus away from Joel and to where he was touching you, nearly letting out soft whimpers, but you stopped yourself before they could escape your mouth. “You like that, baby?" He says this as he holds his other hand, resting on the couch, to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip. 

Rather than responding, you just shook your head, leaving Joel unsatisfied because he knew you were lying. He takes his hand from your thigh and brings it to your neck. Now, both of his hands were holding you in place by your neck, and you would be lying again if you said you didn’t enjoy this. 

“Don’t fuckin lie to me, girl. Look me in the eyes and tell me you liked it,” he says as his erection grows. 

You decided you were going to have fun as well.

With his firm grip of both of his hands around your neck, you try your best to turn your head and look at him fully. You look down at his lips before looking into his eyes. “Mm, I loved it, Joel." 

And you were going to take it a step further by placing your hand over his on your throat and making him grip it tighter. “I love it so much, Daddy." You whispered even though the TV volume was high enough that your dad wouldn’t hear what was going on. 

You watch the smirk leave his face, and this dark look flashes in his eyes; he’s serious now.  

“I bet you do, baby,” he says in his husky voice as his fingers dig into your neck. You move your hand down to his wrist as your other one goes for his pointer finger and brings it to your warm mouth. Joel inhales sharply as you suck on the tip of his finger and tease your tongue around it. The sensation of you sucking on his finger immediately shot down to his cock, causing it to strain in his pants, and you could feel it against your thigh. 

Everything about the situation turned Joel on—something about the thrill of his best friend walking out of his office and seeing his daughter sitting on his lap while she sucked on his finger turned him on. He watched closely as your lips were wrapped around his finger, watching as the spit slid down his finger. 

It felt like the two of you were in your world before hearing your dad’s office door swing open. The two of you immediately began to panic; you pulled Joel’s finger out of your mouth and threw yourself off of his lap and onto the cushion next to him as you heard your dad’s footsteps creeping closer to the living room. There wasn’t much time to scoot away from Joel without looking suspicious, but you tried to leave an appropriate amount of space between you two.

In the corner of your eye, you see Joel drop his hands down onto his lap to cover his erection. 

“Well, what happened?” Your dad asked as he flopped down into his leather recliner with a groan. 

“Not sure,” Joel says coolly as he reaches over to grab his beer from the coffee table and takes a quick sip—still trying to cover himself.  

“What the hell do you mean? You were right here the whole time." Your dad further pushes for an answer. 

God, if only he knew the real reason, he’d freak out. He’d probably do more than freak out. 

“We were talkin’ the whole time; wasn’t even payin’ attention,” Joel said with amusement. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?” he says as he gently nudges your knee. Meanwhile, you could feel your face heating with embarrassment at his words, knowing they weren’t true. What the two of you were doing was far from just talking. 

You looked over at Joel with a wide, fake smile and said, “Yup, that’s right. Joel was just showing me something on his phone." 

Your dad mutters something under his breath as he turns his attention to the game, causing you to finally drop the fake smile. Meanwhile, you and Joel are still staring at each other; more so, you are giving him a death glare while he looks at you with an entertained gleam in his eyes. Once he did look away, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. 

You didn’t know if you were mad or if you wanted to fuck him. 

…

For the rest of the time, you busied yourself by being on your phone the whole time. The conversation between Joel and your dad had come to a stop after your dad kicked his feet up on his recliner, laid back, and went to sleep, leaving Joel to watch the game by himself silently. 

Whenever Joel got bored or there was a commercial break, he would pick up his phone and check his email or text messages before setting his phone back down and letting out a loud huff. 

There was a part of you that felt bad for not making conversation with him, but you were unable to shake the sexual tension that lingered between you two. 

You drop your phone on your lap before turning to Joel and clearing your throat to catch his attention. “Can I get you water or something?” You ask Joel over the sound of the football commentator's laughter and your dad’s snoring. 

Joel’s eyes move from the TV to you, making you feel nervous now that his attention is on you. “I’m good, darlin’,” he says as he gives you a quick, small smile before turning his gaze back to the game. 

You just nodded your head, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and attempted to distract yourself with your phone again. 

So much for making conversation, you think to yourself as you cringe with embarrassment. 

In the midst of you scrolling through your Instagram feed, you feel a warm, callused hand snake onto your thigh, almost scaring the living hell out of you until you realized it was’s hand Joe

You both sat silently, making no attempt to move an inch as his hand rested on the inside of your thigh, almost as if he were waiting for you to push his hand away, but you never did. 

Instead, you make sure that your dad is still sound asleep before you shift your body towards Joel, inching your body closer to him. You adjusted yourself so that your left leg was up with the blanket draped over it, while the other one rested halfway on Joel’s thigh. If your dad were to wake up, it’s not like he would know what you and Joel were doing. 

He starts to stroke your thigh before slowly moving his hand up and stopping at the band of your sweatpants. Your heart was racing, so eager for him to touch you. 

Without looking, Joel’s fingers find the waistband of your sweatpants, causing your breathing to hitch and your heart to beat faster. Once his fingers sip in, he slowly reaches your center. You felt as if you were on the brink of cumming right then and there. His touch was slow and sensual, as he gently teased your clit as he spread your arousal. 

Who knew a man like him could touch you like this? 

You felt your senses becoming clouded as he did this. Oh fuck, you whimpered a little too loudly before you could even realize it, making you slap your hand over your mouth. 

Joel looks down at you, continuing to spread your wetness around. “You okay, darlin’?” He asks you so casually, as if his hands are not in your pants, rubbing your clit. You can see the look in his eyes as his eyebrows quirked, waiting for you to answer him. 

Mmhm, you whimper after letting out a shaky sigh as you finally release your hand from over your mouth. 

He leaned over so he could whisper to you, “You like that, baby? You like when I play with that pretty pussy?” You nodded in response as you bit down on your bottom lip, fearing that if you did open your mouth, you would immediately wake up your dad. “I know you do; you like it when daddy makes you feel good, yeah?”

Joel’s eyes quickly shifted to your dad before looking back at you. That’s when his slow circles became faster. Again, you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying to conceal any noises, while the other clawed at Joel’s forearm. Your thighs trembled as you neared the edge of your orgasm; your eyes were closed, and your head dropped onto Joel’s shoulder. 

“Y'gonna cum, girl?” Joel says lowly, his fingers never letting up as he applies more pressure. “Answer me, or else you won’t cum at all.” You tried to get the words to come out of your mouth, but you couldn't, as the knot in your stomach was nearly unraveled for him. 

Sticking to his word, Joel watched as you got closer and closer to your orgasm—watching the way your hand tried to wrap around his wrist, the way that you held your breath, or the way your toes wiggled in your socks before going completely still—that's when he knew you were about to cum. 

However, he quickly pulled his hand from your pants, leaving you in a state of disappointment and shock. It was almost hilarious to Joel as he watched the wave of disappointment and anger flash over your face. He knew you wanted to scold him, but he didn’t care. 

“Aw, you mad, baby?” Joel teased, making you roll your eyes at him. “You should be a good girl next time and listen.” 

Then, an idea pops into your head. 

“Come to the bathroom with me." You whisper to him before getting up and running to the bathroom, not waiting for an answer from him. 

You were determined to get your way with him, even if that meant having your way with him in your bathroom.

Once you were in the bathroom, your heart was pounding as you listened to the sound of Joel’s heavy feet making their way up the stairs and to the bathroom. 

He softly knocks on the door with his knuckle before he opens the door halfway and slips inside. As soon as he shut the door behind himself and turned around to you, you grabbed Joel by his collar and smashed your lips against his. Even though you had shocked Joel with your forwardness, he had no problem returning your kiss. His hands were pawing at your back as you began to release his collar and go down to his belt. Joel’s cock strained in his pants as you hurriedly undid his belt and pants. 

Once you did finally get it open and pull his pants down enough to gain access to his cock, you broke the kiss and looked down.

You gasp, and your mouth waters at the sight.

The dark hairs that sat on the base complimented Joel’s thick, heavy cock beautifully. 

You drag your fingers through the fuzz before gripping his shaft and stroking down to the head of his cock. He softly moans your name. “Is this all for me, Joel?” You asked him as you looked into his eyes, and his grip on your back tightened. 

He had to keep his composure as you began to stroke him at a slow pace. “All for you, baby,” he says, his eyes looking deeply into yours with a look you can only describe as lustful. He looked at you as if he were going to devour you, and you would gladly let him. 

With every stroke, Joel would pull you closer to him, still making eye contact as you did it. 

“Does my hand feel good wrapped around your cock, Joel?” You cooed at him and began to speed up your pace on his heavy cock, not giving him any time to respond. His eyebrows immediately frowned with pleasure as he licked his lips. “You like it when I stroke you like this?”   

Because of his lack of response, you reach your arm up to bring his head close to your face, still stroking his cock. “Come on, Joel. Answer me.” You ask him lowly in his ear, demanding from him like he did to you on the couch. After you said this, you felt him immediately thrust into your fist as his hands flew down on you and he groaned into your neck. 

“Feels so good, darlin’,” he says, borderline moaning at the way you were making him feel. 

Not that Joel was getting laid daily, but when he did, women never acted this way with him. It was usually him who was the dominant one calling the shots, but he liked what you were doing to him. And it was wrong—it was wrong for him to love it this much, especially because of how much younger you were than him and because your dad is one of his closest friends.

You feel his facial hair on your neck as he begins to place soft kisses there. “You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, still stroking him. “I want you to fuck me."

“Yeah?” he says against your neck before grunting. “You think you can handle this cock, darlin’?”

"You think you can handle me, old man?” You say it back to him, trying to get under his skin, which worked because he pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Come on, take your clothes off, darlin’,” he tells you as he tugs at your shirt and releases you from his hold. You start by pulling off your shirt and then going to your bottoms. While you did this, you took in Joel’s appearance. 

He stood there with his jean shirt exposing his chest and neck, his curls wildly laid against his forehead, and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. He looked like something straight out of a porn magazine.

Joel noticed that you were struggling with your bra as he watched you try to unhook it. “Here, let me help you, darlin’.” You nodded your head and turned around. 

In the mirror, you can see Joel shamelessly eyeing your ass before looking back up and meeting your eyes in the mirror. You look back at him with a cocked eyebrow, letting him know that you saw him staring at your ass. And without saying anything, he steps forward and gives your ass a quick spank, causing an echo in the bathroom. You let out a yelp—surprised and turned on at the same time. 

“Joel,” you scold him as you look at him through the mirror. 

Yeah, yeah, was all he said as he brushed off your words. He quickly undoes your bra before sliding the straps down your arms with his fingertips and letting the undergarment fall onto the floor. While he did this, you felt a tingle run down your spine as you began to form goosebumps on your arm, and your nipples hardened. 

“Fuck, look at that." His voice trails off as he looks at your breasts through the mirror. “Lookin’ so desperate for your daddy, ain’t that right, darlin'?" You watch as his arms snake around you before he cups your breasts. Thoughtlessly, you nodded your head in agreement with him; however, in the midst of that, Joel began to tweak your nipples with his thumb and pointer fingers. 

He lets out a deep hum, almost in approval, as he takes in the sight of you two and gives your nipple one last tug before his left hand trails down slowly, while the right is still cupping your breast. Joel’s fingers dove between your thighs, teasingly rubbing his warm, thick fingers on your lips as he gathered the arousal that dripped from you. You release a muffled whine as you press your lips shut. 

“Jesus Christ, darlin’,” Joel growls in your ear as he brings his hand to eye level to observe your wetness that was clinging onto his fingers before licking it off. You watch through the mirror as he licks every last drop off of his fingers. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters quietly as he pulls them out of his mouth before placing a soft kiss on your neck and shoulder. 

You feel your stomach tighten with longing for the older man, and your head becomes fizzy, making you close your eyes and roll your head to the side. 

That was until Joel moved his hand from your breast and up to your throat. “Uh-uh, I want you to keep lookin’,” he says firmly, causing your eyes to flutter open and catch his eyes in the mirror. “That’s right, darlin’,” Joel mutters. 

With the size of his hand, he had a firm grip on your neck, ensuring your head did not move from the mirror.

Joel brings his fingers back down to your pussy and brings your lower half closer to his. As he played with your clit, you could feel him humping against your ass, spreading his precum on it. You tried so hard to stop the moans from slipping out. It was to the point that you could almost feel the skin on your bottom lip begin to tear. 

You let out a huff of air before looking at Joel with pleading eyes. “Fuck, Joel I-I need you to fuck me. Please,” You beg him in your softest voice. 

“You’d like that? Wouldn’t you, darlin’?” Joel taunts you while still rubbing a circle around your clit.

"Yes!" you moaned at him. 

“I know you would, pretty girl,” While playing with your clit, Joel spoke lowly in your ear again. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you; don’t worry.”

Without wasting a second, he releases his grip around your neck and moves his hands away from your pussy. He places his hand on your back and slowly pushes you over the sink, while he uses the other to spread your legs open. Your hands grip the sides of the sink with your face inches away from the mirror, breathing heavily as you watch Joel. 

You could feel your pussy clench around nothing as he grabbed onto your waist and spit onto his fingers before rubbing it onto his cock. Joel teases your slit with the fleshy tip of his cock, forcing a mixture of a moan and a groan out of your mouth. You push your ass against him, hoping that he'll allow himself to enter you. And he does. 

The moment his head pushed into you, you could feel yourself stretching around him as you both met each other's thrust. Straightaway, you and Joel were gasping at the sensation.

“Holy hell, darlin’,” Joel groans shakily as his eyes clamp. “Tight fuckin’ cunt you got.” 

“You’re so big,” you weep quietly to him as you begin to slowly fuck yourself onto his cock. “I can feel you deep in me.”

Joel let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck—look at you, so fucking desperate for my cock,” he taunts while he strokes your ass with his wide palm, making an effort not to bring it down onto your ass cheek. “Tell me how much you like having me in you."

This made you want to keep going, wanting to keep pleasing Joel, so you picked up. You made sure to throw your ass back on him as much as possible.

“So much—I love it so much, fucking much, daddy." 

You weren’t sure where this was coming from, but you liked it.

“Oh fuck, I know you do, baby. Keep fucking yourself onto my cock." Joel nearly growls as you watch him in the mirror intently. You watch as he looks down, where you are both connected with a slack jaw, taking in the view. 

You are now making it your mission to make him cum. And for some reason, you didn’t mind prioritizing Joel’s pleasure over your own—with past hookups, you made it your priority to get yours before letting them get theirs first.

But this was something different; you liked being able to make a man like Joel cum first.

The sound of your ass hitting his front was loud, and his heavy breathing almost made you cum. But with a lot of restraint, you were able to keep yourself from letting your eyes roll to the back of your head and watch Joel inch closer to his orgasm. 

“Cum for me, Joel,” you moan, encouraging him as he curses. You thought that he was going to thrust into you as he held you in place, but instead, you felt him quickly pull out of you, resting his damp forehead on your back as he tried to catch his breath. You let out a whine of disappointment. “Why’d you pull out?” 

It took him a couple of seconds to respond, “I been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, pretty girl. You think I’d cum that fast?" He asked you.

“Now, come on, put your leg up so Daddy can go deeper, baby.” He tells you as he taps your thigh. 

Deeper? How much deeper does he need to go? You ask yourself; nonetheless, you still did as he said, a little curious.

You tightly grip the sink and begin to put your feet on the toilet lid. Joel makes sure to hold onto your hips and guide your foot. “Trust me, sweetheart, it’ll feel real good,” he says with a grin. 

He firmly grabs your hips and drills into you without any warning. “Oh my god,” you moan loudly while deeply inhaling. “Fuck, Joel!” you said, feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of the tip of Joel’s cock pressed deeply inside of you. 

With this new position, you could feel every inch of him in you—the head of his cock, his shaft, the way his cock twitched when he felt your pussy fluttering around him.

“I know, it’s okay,” he says after he hushes you, attempting to keep you quiet. “You just gotta—fuck—you gotta stay quiet.”

An ache formed in Joel’s lower back from his speed, and he knew it would fuck up his whole day tomorrow, but that didn’t stop him. 

You feel Joel’s fingers grab a handful of your hair, starting from the root, and tug your body to his. 

He noticed that your eyes were tightly closed as he continued to brutally thrust into you. With his grip still firm on your hair, he grabs your neck with his other hand and holds you in place. “Op-open your eyes, pretty girl. Look at yourself while I fuck this tight pussy of yours,” Joel grunts into your ear, making you whimper. 

You force yourself to open your eyes, and when you do, the familiar knot in your stomach almost comes undone.

“Don’t stop, baby." Your voice quivers as your legs tremble. But with Joel’s grip on your neck, he stops you from going down. “I-I’m gonna cum,” 

The bathroom was filled with all types of noises as he was now slowly fucking you through your orgasm. 

“Cum for daddy, darlin’, cum all over my cock.” 

And that’s when you finally came. 

Over the sounds of skin slapping and the squelching from your wet pussy, Joel talks you through your orgasm, whispering how much of a good girl you were for him and how good you were making him feel. 

He finally slowed down his pace as you came down. He could feel your cunt pulsate on his cock, bringing him to his climax.

Joel releases you and pulls out before jerking off on your ass and spilling his warm seed onto your soft skin. 

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan as you feel the thick, milky white substance paint your ass. By the second spurt of cum hitting your ass, he bites down on your shoulder, trying to silence his loud, tired groans as he cums. 

You made Joel cum harder than he ever did before.  

After a few deep breaths later, you and Joel had finally calmed down, feeling fucked out and tired. 

He lets out a sigh before wiping the sweat off his forehead and looking down at the watch on his wrist. “Alright, darlin’,” he says as he tucks himself back into his pants and fixes his shirt. “Gotta get out of here before your old man wakes up."

“It was a little too late for you to say that now,” you joke with a relaxed grin on your face as you turn around to him to get one more look at him. It quickly fell when you realized that Joel could hardly look you in the eyes. “You okay?”

He tries to give you his best phony smile while attempting to look you in the eyes. ”I’m fine, sweetheart; I gotta get home to Sarah before it gets too late." Joel lies through his teeth and avoids eye contact again, hoping that you couldn’t see through him. “You should get yourself cleaned up and ready for bed. I’ll straighten up and use the spare to lock the door when I go." He nods his head at you in a bid to say bye and reaches for the doorknob as if he wasn’t balls deep in you a few minutes ago. 

You move out of his way, and he leaves without either of you saying another word to each other. 

And there you were—naked, ass covered in his cum, embarrassed, and hurt. 

A/N: i will make a masterlist soon i swear but I hope y'all liked it!! *MWAH*

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

[oceansblvds]

I SENT THE ASK ABT TEACHER CORYO IM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE TA/PROFESSOR SNOW 😝

OKOKOK IM GONNA WRITE SOME HEADCANONS BUT I MIGHT HONESTLY EXPAND THIS INTO A FULL FIC BC im a whore!

warning(s): nsfw, obsessive behavior, lowkey an abuse of power

coriolanus, almost out of university, was selected to teach a higher level math class on the account of dr. gaul saying he needed a little bit more experience with teaching and leadership if he was to be head gamemaker. so, he was a TA, teaching under a professor but was basically given full rein with the class, as the professor seemed to focus more on research than teaching the class. the second he was in the lecture discussion, he saw you walk in. you were a junior, just a year under him in university and god were you beautiful. almost mouth wateringly so. it made him sick in the head at how pretty you were.

and gods above, you were smart, almost as smart as he was (though he wouldn't ever admit that) and it was clear that you liked him. you always smiled when he complimented your high scores on tests and quizzes, and would read the notes that he put in the margins of your essays with a glimmer in your eyes. he needed to talk to you, needed to be closer to you, and the only way that he could think of was to give you slightly lower marks on your essays and homeworks. never on a test, he would never want to drop your grade low enough for it to be concerning, but he did wait for you to stumble into his office hours. and you did. you asked him how you could do better on the material, and he told you that he'd help you.

he didn't have an office, only a classroom that he was lent during his office hours in the top floor of the math building. it was there that you would meet him, every tuesday and thursday, to go over problems. he liked the way that your lip would be bitten in between your teeth when you were looking at a particularly hard problem, or when you would look at him with your big doe eyes when you asked him for help. and whenever you asked him for help, he would lean closer, and explain it to you.

one day, he finally got the courage to make a move. you asked him for help and he placed his hand on your thigh, as if he was using it to keep himself steady as he leaned over. but instead of watching him explain on the paper, you kept your attention on his face. and then he pushed his hand further up your thigh, under your skirt, and you didn't stop him. your hand came to his and you pushed it up until it was cupping your pussy. he fingered you right then and there, hoping beyond hoping that no one else would walk into his office hours for help. the two of you made out while he fingered you, going as far as to press three fingers into you, with a squelching sound, your moans echoing through the room softly.

that became somewhat of a normal thing. you two always met during his office hours, until you decided to go to his home one day for some extra tutoring. it ended with you in his large bed with your legs spread, while he put his fingers in your mouth as he fucked you with such fervor that you were sure you were going to break.

sometimes when he was grading papers, you would slink under his desk and pull his cock out, spitting on the tip and bobbing your head up and down until he gave you the attention you wanted. he always fantasized about you doing this when he was teaching another class, with you working him with your mouth as he sat on his desk and no one else knew the wiser. he would have to try that with you one day.

lots of words like how dirty you were for sleeping with your teacher. "you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" "show me how good you've gotten" when you were riding him. "you probably fantasize about my cock in class, don't you?" it was all so derogatory. and other times he would praise you. he would tell you how smart and beautiful you were. he would let you cum when you got a problem right while he sat under the desk, eating you out. when you got a problem wrong, he would stop, and no amount of begging would get him to continue unless you continued your work.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the hunger games #tom blyth #angelica talks!!

[loggiepj]

she broke her own heart

Summary : Just a short story about how Wanda broke her own heart.

You didn't cheat.

You learned at a young age that when you loved someone, you should be solely and  deeply committed to that person. You were strongly against any sort of betrayal.

You hated your father for that. You thanked the heavens he got sick with something close to cancer because you knew he deserved it. But you hated him more for making your mother miserable who still took care of your father after he got sick most of the time. You pitied your mother. She shouldn't have to live that way, especially when she was the one cheated on. But she loved your father still.

That was why you had cursed him and swore to yourself you wouldn't ever do what he did to your mother.

You couldn't handle the guilt if ever you'd commit such a cruel act, wondering how some people could ever do such in the first place. Even some of your friends have cheated or have been cheated on. It made you sick to the stomach just to think of it.

You couldn't ever ever cheat and wouldn't attempt to in your lifetime.

You didn't cheat.

That was what you were trying to tell your girlfriend of four years when she caught you with a naked woman in your apartment.

Wanda. Sweet, innocent, ever kind Wanda. With red hair and green eyes, she'd part the crowd like the Red sea whenever she entered a room.

You met her during your last year in College and dated ever since. It was a funny encounter — an enemies turned into lovers type of story. It was when Wanda accused you of being the other girlfriend of your now ex-bestfriend, Vision.

It took her a whole month to figure out you were gay when you both got drunk and made out in your dorm. It only took her five seconds of your tongue in her mouth to find out she liked girls too.

You and Wanda had been inseparable since. The relationship grew more intense, making you both commit yourselves to each other. Your friends became her friends. Her friends became yours.

You considered yourself so lucky for having her in your life. Wanda was always there through your ups and downs. And you were also there for hers.

So why would you cheat on her? How could you ever cheat on her?

You didn't cheat. But Wanda didn't believe you.

Wanda witnessed it front row.

It was a normal Thursday afternoon, or at least it was supposed to be normal, when Natasha, your bestfriend, dropped by your apartment, carrying with her her bag of art supplies, a blank canvass and a lady wearing high heels who looked like ten years older than the two of you.

It was honestly your fault in the first place. You were too nice to deny Natasha a place to do her painting when she was kicked out of hers. But you were also too late to realize it was going to be a nude work when the lady suddenly took off all of her clothes, leaving only her red stilettos on.

Amidst your complaints about how Wanda wouldn't approve of such a thing if she only knew, Natasha had managed to persuade you that it would only take her an hour to finish.

But bad things were meant to happen.

If only you allowed Natasha to use the toilet when she needed to relieve herself earlier, you wouldn't have to wait for a couple of minutes for her to come back when she immediately headed towards the toilet the moment she had finished the painting.

You wouldn't have to endure an awkward moment alone with the lady as she slowly dressed herself. You wouldn't have slipped on Natasha's paintbrush that she left on the floor in a hurry and tackled with the lady as you both fell down on the floor.

And Wanda wouldn't have seen you two in a weirdly sexual position in the apartment that you and Wanda shared.

No. Wanda didn't believe you. She saw it with her own two eyes.

"It's not what you think it is," you told her. Yet, you couldn't move. You found yourself frozen, million of things running inside your head, reasons why you were suddenly on top of this half naked stranger.

Wanda scoffed, then bit back a cry as she said, "I thought you were different. I was wrong."

When Wanda hurriedly left the apartment, a switch turned on in yourself, making you finally move from your spot.

"What did I miss?" was what you thought you heard Natasha ask in a distance when she finally came out of the toilet. But you were too focused to follow Wanda out of the building and into the parking lot.

"Wanda!" you called out, knocking the windows of her car as you tried to get in. "It was not what it looked like. I swear!"

Then you made a run towards her side of the car because the passenger's side was locked.

"Wanda, please!" You were hysterical. Especially when you saw how red and defeated Wanda's eyes looked like. As if she had accepted her fate. That you were a cheater, just like her ex boyfriend.

"I didn't! We didn't—" A sudden honk made you jump away from the car before Wanda stepped on the pedal and drove fast. Away. Far from you.

You tried to run for it. But after a couple of blocks, you ran out of air to breathe.

Endless visits in Pietro's apartment became your routine. You knew Wanda was staying at her brother's place. You saw her car parked outside. But Wanda wouldn't give you the time or the ear to listen.

Wanda's friends became your enemies, despising you for betraying their friend. You could talk them through it, made them believe you didn't do what they thought you did. But you only cared for Wanda to believe you.

Pietro almost didn't believe you until Natasha talked to him.

"Give it time, Y/n," Pietro always said to you whenever you dropped by. "You know how she feels about cheating. Maybe tomorrow, she'd finally listen to you."

So you hoped and hoped that tomorrow will come. That one day she'd finally hear you out and your valid excuse.

But that day turned only into weeks. And weeks turned into a month. And a month turned into two. Until you couldn't bear it any longer and visited Wanda in her office.

Amidst the protests from Wanda's secretary, saying she was in a meeting, you still managed to get to her office.

Wanda wasn't alone. She was with her officemate who was also her friend, Jarvis. A friend who had become surprisingly close after your so-called breakup.

You were out of breath. Not because the secretary was so fast in trying to get you, but because you swore you saw Jarvis' arm around Wanda's shoulders just a second ago, and how their faces were so close to each other, it almost looked like they were kissing or something.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Wanda bitterly asked. You could tell she was still mad about what she thought you did.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." Her secretary bumped into your back as she managed to catch up. "I tried to stop her—"

"It's okay. I trust it Y/n doesn't need help to exit this building as well," Wanda replied.

"You didn't answer to any of my calls or messages," you began. "If you could only hear me out just this once. Natasha brought—"

"I don't think we have formally met," Jarvis interrupted as he walked towards you, his hand held out for you to shake. "I'm Jarvis Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries, along with my brother Tony. And. . .," he made a look towards Wanda before he looked back at you, "Wanda's boyfriend."

You laughed. It was a slow chuckle at first, before you burst into a loud laughter.

"I see," you said, ignoring Jarvis' hand as you made your way towards Wanda. "You don't have to do this. Pretending he's your boyfriend when months ago, you despise the hell out of him."

Wanda stepped back. "You don't know me, Y/n. Maybe, I do want him after all."

"Wands—"

"Besides the fact that at least he wants me unlike you."

"You know that's not true—"

"Tell me, Y/n, was she really that good in bed? Good enough to throw all those years away?!"

"Wands." You tried to step a bit closer, arms extending for a hug.

"Stay away from me!" Wanda screamed, making Jarvis drag you away from her. You pulled out from his grasp as you stared at Wanda. She looked like a mess, but you couldn't really blame her if she had gone through a heartbreak.

After all, she was the one who broke her own heart.

"Don't make me call security," Jarvis warned.

You took a deep breath before you finally left.

You would have come back the following day. Or the day after that. If only you didn't get sick.

You would have visited Pietro's apartment the next day if you didn't just collapse on your way to work that day.

You thought it was just fatigue, what with the restless nights you had spent trying to win Wanda back. But you were wrong.

It turned out you were cursed with your father's illness too.

That was why you were drinking in a bar on a Tuesday afternoon, even when the sun was still up. If Natasha weren't there to get you to go home, you would have ended in God knows where.

"I don't deserve her," you softly murmured when Natasha had managed to get you in her car. "I don't deserve Wanda."

"Hey, don't say that."

"She's in good hands now. He'll be good to her. Promise me, Nat, you'll look after her."

Natasha cupped your face. "She just needs time, Y/n. She'll come back. I promise you that."

But time was something you had until now. Until you finally received the medical report from your doctor, telling you that you'd end up paralyzed one day. Just like your father.

And you couldn't do that to Wanda — making her take care of you as you both grew old. No. You couldn't do that to her. You were not your father.

Even when she finally realized that you didn't really cheat. Even when she would finally talk to you and accept you back into her arms. Even when Wanda made it known that Jarvis and her weren't at all true and she was just angry at that time.

Even when she finally came to Natasha's party after countless invitations in the past months, knowing you were there too. Even then.

You knew now you're not your father. You wouldn't cheat. And you couldn't make her give up her dreams just to take care of you.

So when yours and Wanda's eyes met at the party, with her talking to some of your friends, and you drinking from a distance, you knew you had to finally let her go.

"I cheated," you said when Wanda came to follow you in the balcony. "I had intentions that day to kiss her and more."

Wanda shook her head. "You're lying." Even her voice was trembling.

"It's true. The only lie I ever told you was to make you believe I didn't do it, that I didn't cheat. But I . . . I want to come clean, Wanda," you went on. "I'm sorry I led you on, I'm sorry. I slept with her that night. And on the following nights too—"

Wanda snapped, her hand hitting your left cheek with a force. The sound echoed through the night. That hurt. But your heart was already hurting.

"Why can't I be enough, Y/n?" Wanda finally asked after a couple of seconds of complete silence.

Then you looked at her, saddened that she didn't realize how perfectly enough she was to anyone.

You wanted so badly to tell her she was enough. That you were even lucky she was talking to you. That it was you who couldn't be enough for her.

But you stopped yourself. You had to let her go.

"Don't you ever let me see your face again," she said, gritting her teeth, before she left.

And that was the only thing you could promise Wanda from that moment on.

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda #wanda angst #elizabeth olsen #one short

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 5 - Put it into Speed Drive

Longer chapter this time! The next update probably won't be until Tuesday, and or Wednesday night and then Thursday.

For planning, after 2023 is up, I will not be keeping up with the actual schedule for the races. The chapters will still come in chronological order, but it won't be week by week. This will be the start of the parallel universe.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please comment! And now enjoy the show :)

You were practically buzzing after the suit fitting. It was just one step closer to getting you in the car. Which would happen very soon. Sunday to be exact. Tomorrow. There were just so many words to describe how soon it was. 

You went from no open doors in F1 to a door that was blown to bits and then shredded, leaving a giant hole for you to just walk through. However, your daydreams of blowing doors up were interrupted by the growl of you stomach. You walked through the door of the fitting room and found Vito right where you left him. 

Such a good manager. 

He was talking to someone though, and you really didn’t want to interrupt. But, your stomach was about to commence in the whale mating call song and you really didn’t want anyone to hear that. Your eyes glanced around before they landed on Mitch, who seemed to just be typing on her tablet. 

You quickly walk over and tap her on the shoulder. “Mitch, uh, where would I be able to find some food?” 

She looked up from her tablet with a smile. Dang, did she just smile at everything? 

“I can take you to get some food if you’d like me to?” she responded. You quickly nodded your head. Taking the lead, Mitch started to walk over to the other side of the sim room. How many rooms were connected to this place? You wondered as she opened a door. 

“This room is one of the more private areas, which in return, gets its own side of the building. From here you’re able to reach just about any other place.” Now that was creepy, could she read your mind? 

Your face must have been in a contemplative look as she let out a small laugh. The walk was short as the two of you entered an all-while room. A small cooking bar was to the left while tables and chairs littered the rest of the floor. Your mouth was wide open. 

You told Mitch, “Dams is not this nice.” A pout came from you. 

“Well, now you don’t have to be jealous. You know that you work here now,” she reminded you as she took a tray and began to walk down the bar. You followed her doing and picked up your own tray. Looking up, you gazed over the menu, trying to find something that looked like it would fit in your diet. 

“By the way, everything here is supposed to go hand in hand with a driver’s diet. So pick anything you’d like,” a voice said from behind the counter. A woman with a hairnet smiled as you finally decided on a club sandwich with some chips (the crunchy kind – not French fries). Once you got your food, you walked over to the table next to the window where Mitch was already sitting. 

You quickly remember that you practically left Vito, so you shot him a quick text letting him know where you were. In typical fashion, she just sent a thumbs up emoji. What a dad. 

The two of you ate in silence for a bit, before Mitch spoke up. 

“So kid, tell me a little bit about yourself.” She took a bite of her sandwich. 

You quickly swallowed. “Uh, I’m 20 years old. I’m from a lot of places, didn’t really stay in one place for long. The longest I stayed anywhere was Texas for 5 years (a.n. shameless plug). I’m pretty introverted and don’t normally talk to others first. I have a little apartment in Nice, but now I think I should look for one close to here. I am an only child. And Danny DeVito is my spirit animal.” 

Mitch almost spit out her drink as her shoulders began to shake. That also got you laughing. “What about you?” you questioned back. You were beginning to feel sad because your sandwich was almost gone. 

“Well, I am 35. I have been at Red Bull for two years now. I was an engineer before this and worked on the car. I don’t have any kids.” 

You interrupted her, “Well now you do.” You pointed at yourself before taking a giant slurp of your drink. 

She rolled her eyes before continuing, “I’ve lived in London my whole life. I have a degree in engineering as well. And my favorite season is fall.” 

Small talk continued as you finished your lunch, or almost dinner. As you looked out the window, you saw that the sun was about to begin to set. You hadn’t realized how long everything had taken. A yawn escaped your lips as you and Mitch made your way back to the simulator room. There Vito was waiting for you, looking ready to go. Saying goodbye with a hug, you told Mitch that you’d see her bright and early for the test drive. 

Not wanting to get left behind, you found yourself sticking to Vito as he guided the two of you back down the poster hallway. At least now you were familiar with the turns and twists. Like the past few days, a car was waiting for you outside. Vito slipped into the driver’s seat while you went around and climbed into the passenger side. 

You immediately connected your phone to sound system. You snickered as you chose the song. 

Vito groaned when he heard the opening notes. You could only laugh as the beat started to pick up. 

“Ah-ah Barbie you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Jump into the driver seat and put it into speed drive,” you sang, directed at Vito. To hear the base a bit more, you turned the volume up. However, when it came to the next verse, and you were about to start yelling, your phone began to ring. 

Arthur’s contact photo, one of you at his birthday, popped up. You immediately answered the face time and yelled. 

“Dude, you threw off my groove!” His laughs could be heard throughout the car as his face got into the camera range.  

“I’m sorry?” 

“You should be. What’s up?” 

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out later tonight? Since I’m here for testing.” You froze and looked at Vito with wide eyes. You quickly pointed your phone towards the roof of the car. 

You mouthed, “What do I do?” You were scared. What were you supposed to say? Oh hey Arthur, I actually signed a multi-year contract with Red Bull two days ago. Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner? You definitely could not do that. 

Yet, a slight jut of Vito’s head told you that you could tell him the truth. You inhaled sharply. 

“I’m actually not in Paris at the moment.” Arthur paused. . You only hoped that he wouldn’t be mad at you. 

“You’re not? I thought you were going to be sim testing.” 

“I thought so to. And then I might have gotten a text from…” you muttered the last bit. 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” He put a hand to his ear. 

You huffed before you shouted, clearly overwhelmed. “I got a text from Christian Horner and I’m driving with Red Bull for 2024!” Your shallowed breaths filled the air. Vito’s hand was placed on your knee for comfort. 

“Well, duh. I knew that dummy?” 

“Hello?” you could only get out. Who told him? 

“You do know that even though my brother may not seem to be friends with Max, they actually are. And Max likes to talk, so he told my brother and my brother told me.” Your eyes must have been bulging. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you sighed, “I didn’t know if I could.” 

Arthur responded, “It’s quite alright. It was fun making you panic for a moment.” 

“You’re an ass. First you interrupt my wonderful concert that Vito was enjoying…” 

“I was not,” Vito leaned towards the phone. 

“As I was saying, men the woman is speaking, and then you decide to make me almost spiral into a panic attack. Not nice TurTur.” You wiggled your finger at the screen. 

He smiled, “I’m actually here in London as well. Thought you might want some company. And Vito invited me to see you drive tomorrow. I’m waiting in your room.” He showed you a room that was almost identical to the one you had at the hotel. You squealed at the thought of seeing him. 

It was a good thing that the car had pulled up to the hotel, because you seat belt flew off in record time. You barely were able to get a quick thank you to the workers before you got to the elevator. You’re sure you pressed the buttons too many times, but the damn thing wouldn’t open any quicker. 

The moment the doors open, you bolted inside, but came into contact with a body, that knocked the two of you over. You said a quick apology before darting to the side and getting in the elevator. You barely saw a neon hoodie and some brown curls before the doors closed. 

Pressing hard down on your floor button, you willed the elevator to move quicker. After what felt like forever, the box dinged. You dashed down the carpeted hallway as you took your key card out of your pocket. 

Although you barely swiped it, the lock beeped and let you into the room. 

Arthur was not expecting you to all but tackle him as you dive bombed into his arms. The forced knocked the both of you off the bed. The pile of limbs and bodies that you and your best friend were ended up in a pile on the floor. You could not stop laughing as you held him tighter. 

You needed him, especially after these past stressful days. Remembering what he did earlier, you pulled back and started to hit him. His hands raised up and tried to defend against your much smaller hands. 

“You” -hit- “are” -smack- “an” -whack- “ass Arthur Leclerc.” 

“Ouch woman, you hurt me,” he feigns as he puts a hand on his heart. Your attacks died down as you hauled yourself off the floor. You held out a hand, he took it, and you lifted him as well. But the moment he was upright, you pushed him over on the bed. His giggles left his mouth. Instead of getting up like you thought he would, he snuggled more into your bed. 

You might as well join him. Hiking your leg up, you rolled him over some before slotting yourself in the space next to him. He let out a noise of complaint, even though he basically opened you with opened arms. 

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s been very stressful,” your words were muffled as you put your head on his chest. 

He let out a scoff, “Sure. You’ve been playing around in the top of the line simulator.” 

Whack. 

“Would you stop that?” he questioned as he dug his fingers into your sides. Laughter soon tumbled out of your lips before you could stop them. 

“Arthur, stop it!” You tried to force his hands away. But because of your smaller build, he was able to continue the attacks. 

A knock at the door saved your life. You all but rolled off the bed, out of Arthur’s arms, and walked to the door. However, you flipped Arthur off before your hand reached the knob. On the other side of the door, Vito stood with his phone in his hand. He looked up once the door was all the way opened. 

“Hi Vito. What’s up?” you asked with head cocked to the side.

“You two up for some karaoke?” He looked over your shoulder at Arthur, who was still sprawled on the bed. 

“I’m down for it. Hey Arthur!” you yelled, Vito wincing at the volume. 

Arthur’s head popped up. “Yeah?” 

“Karaoke?”

He smirked. “Hell yeah.” 

A couple of hours later, you found yourself with Arthur in a karaoke room. Vito had been blacked out for a while on the couch. 

“COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HOME, TO A PLACE, WHERE I BELONG!” Arthur sang into the very cheap looking microphone. 

You continued, sounding as equally bad, “WEST VIRGINA, MOUTAIN MOMMA, COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HoOOoooOOOmE!” 

The song ended and you and Arthur took a mock bow. 

Arthur chanted, “Next song, next song, next song.” Yeah, he was definitely gone. 

“Since you ruined this earlier, I’m picking this one.” You clicked on a button. The familiar beats from earlier that day filled the small room. Arthur groaned from beside you. “Nuh-uh. This is your faut, and now you have to pay the price.” 

Half-heartedly, Arthur began to sing, “She my best friend in the whole world.” He pointed at you while singing the lyrics. You placed your hands on your chest and mocked a sincere look. He only shoved your head away and continued. 

You decided that standing on the table was a good place to sing the chorus, “AH AH BARBIE YOU’RE SO FINE, YOU’RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND” 

Arthur finally got into it, “JUMP INTO THE DRIVERS SEAT AND PUT IT INTO SPEED DRive…” the music was suddenly shut off. 

An angry looking worker walked in and told you to get off the table and to leave for the night. You sheepishly got down, walked over to Vito with Arthur, woke him up, and you three were on your way. 

The two of you looked like kids who had to be taken home after getting in trouble with the principal at the school. However, that wouldn’t stop the snickers and giggles that soon filled the whole car, Vito included. 

You were glad that it wasn’t too late. The next morning would be terrible if you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. 

Arthur made sure to get what time everyone was leaving before retiring to his room for the night. You made sure to post some things on your Instagram story before heading to bed. 

You were surprised you had gotten some sleep, because when you woke up, you couldn’t stop shaking. Not know if it was from excitement or nervousness, you got ready quickly. There was a fruit bowl in your room. For breakfast, you indulged in a banana and an orange. Vito probably arranged for a bigger breakfast to be served at the practice track. 

You met up with Arthur and Vito in the lobby. You nudged him as you walked passed. 

“You ready?” he asked as he followed you to the car that was waiting under the walkway. 

“As I’ll every be.” There was a slight hitch in your tone that told Arthur everything he needed to know. 

After the two of you climbed into the back seats, and Vito in the passenger seat, Arthur put his arm around you. Just the feeling of his company helped to ease the anxiety that was bubbling inside you. It seemed to grow with each corner that got you closer and closer to the track. 

There would be quite a few people there today, more than you would like. But each person was necessary. The track was farther and out of the city. 

You knew that Mitch would have your suit and helmet ready for you once you got there. You would be debrief on the track and how the car should behave. You would be doing a mock race, but it would still be shorter than most races – about 50 laps or so. 

Your goal that you had gone over with Mitch would be to set one of the fastest test laps. Your time to beat was 1 minute and 19.721 seconds. You thumbs-upped the message and said that you’d try your best. 

The car slowed down as it approached the entrance. And before you knew it, you were in your suit and balaclava as Mitch talked with you once more before you started getting in the car. It was one of the newer cars, the RB 17. 

You saw Christian approach and you checked over a few more things. 

“You like the car?” he asked, nodding his head over to the machine behind him. 

“I love it. Can’t wait to see how she drives. Was she driven for any races?” You were curious and wanted to know. 

He smirked. “That is Max’s championship car.” Your hands froze, holding your zipper. You looked up at Christian, eyes wide. You gulped. 

“Aha, very funny.” 

“I’m not joking.” His face was deadpanned. 

“Well, I will try to be careful with it.” He only laughed and put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You just drive the car like you normally do. The sim showed me everything I need to know.” With that, he walked closer to the wall and put a on a set of headphone.

“No pressure Y/n,” you told yourself. Breathing in and out, you put your helmet on. Arthur decided to walk up and clip the two straps for you, something he often did before your races. You both did your little handshake before he patted you shoulder. He was also given some headphones, along with Vito. They were all counting on you. 

You stepped closer to the car. Lifting your leg, you swung it over, then the other. You shimmied down into the car and connected the things that needed to be connected. The men around you started to lower the car and take off the different machinery. You would start the track on medium tires. You were told that after the first half, you could switch to the softs if you think you needed to. 

The final parts of the car were put on and you were handed the steering wheel. You carefully placed the connect parts together as you felt the car turned on. You could feel it almost breathing. It was alive. 

You were able to taxi the car out onto the mock grid. 

“Alright Y/n, radio check,” Mitch’s voice came on through your helmet. 

“If I can have a walk up song for Vegas, I heard a rumor that that was coming back, and if I get introduced, can it be Life is a Highway? Please?” 

“Radio is working,” Mitch responded. 

“Please Mitch?” you prodded. You heard a sigh as you smiled. 

“We can discuss later. I will ask Christian.” You did a small pump of your hands before getting back into the zone. From where you were, you had a good view of the lights. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Speed. I am speed. 

Red. Red. Red. 

Green. 

Your feet hit the pedals and off you went for the “warming up” lap. The track had a good mix of straights and turns to warm up the tires. 

The first few laps after went smoothly. But, you knew it wasn’t time for your flying lap. To keep it fair, the past drivers only had one lap to set a time. 

You pressed the button for the radio, “There seems to be some unbalance on Turn 5. I don’t know if it’s the track or the car.” Your voice sounded rattly. 

“Checking,” Mitch responded back at the “pit lane.” 

Christian piped up from her right, “Max has said that before about that exact turn. It’s uncanny.” 

“Ok kid, it seems like it might be an issue with the track. Try to avoid it by slowing down to go wide, but accelerate going out of the apex.” 

“Roger,” you responded. On the next lap, you did exactly that. And you were pleased to see that it actually worked. 

“Balance of the car is good.” 

“Thank you Y/n.” 

“Can I come in for softs? I want to try the flying lap.” 

“Ok, box for softs.” 

You pulled your car into the pit lane. It wasn’t the fastest pit stop you’ve had, but it really didn’t matter. You did a few laps on the softs. Although you knew the track would eat them up, you also knew that you did your best laps on slightly used softs. 

Christian spoke up again, “She knows that softs run out quickly. She should have done the flying lap on the first one.” 

Now, Arthur talked first, “She does all of her best laps on slightly used softs. It’s how she’s won so many races. Because Y/n knows her tires better than anyone.” Christian hummed as he watched your dot go around the animated track. 

The radio beeped as a message came from your car, “I’m gonna go for it. Starting the flying lap.” 

Mitch responded, “Copy.” The team waited with baited breath and you seemed to glide around the turns. 

You were truly one with whatever car you drove. 

The clocked seemed to tick in slow motion as you finally came to the last straight. Once you passed the line, you slowed down just a bit. 

“Ok Mitch, how did I do?” you asked. 

She breathed before responding, “One minute, nineteen point 7 seconds. Congratulations kid, you have broken our current record. Your cheers could be heard over the radio. They mixed with the team’s own cheering as well. You were just .021 seconds faster than whoever held the previous record. And you did it in a two, almost, three year old car. 

“Who used to hold the position?” 

This time, Christian’s voice came on over the radio, “It was Max, kid.” 

You let out a laugh of disbelief, before realizing that Christian was on the radio. 

“Christian, can my walk up song for Vegas be Life is a Highway. Please.” You waited for his answer. 

“Sure kid.” 

“Yes! Best day ever! Can I got another lap? I want to put this baby into speed drive. Vito! Arthur!”

“On it kid.” 

“Got it Y/n!” 

You guessed one of them held their phones to the radio. This time you would hear the entire song. You knew it. You shimmied back down into the seat and floored the throttle. 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #alex albon x reader

[videovamptramp]

foolish one

// ellie is one of the biggest players on campus, and reader just so happens to be the only girl immune to ellie’s charm. at least, that’s what she thought. //

warnings: fuckgirl!ellie, reader is a bit difficult, ellie is a simp for r but also a huge womanizer, this is angsty cause ellie and reader are both dumb fucks <3

a/n: part 2 of heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and i) is coming sooon, but until then here’s an ellie fic i wrote a few months ago <3

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you were known at jackson university for being a good girl. sure, you’ve been to your handful of frat parties, who hasn’t? but you always kept your grades up, and made sure you never hooked up with any of the rich wannabe’s here. not because you thought you were better than anyone, no never that— mainly because you’ve worked too damn hard to get out of your shitty neighborhood to let all of your progress get ruined by a broken heart. so you refused to date or even flirt. you had friends and you were known for being vibrant and kind, but the second someone crossed a line you’d shut them down. you could be colder than ice when you wanted to be, and as sensitive as a baby at times, but you always knew how to keep yourself together. you always kept your heart safe.

maybe that’s what attracted ellie to you so badly. the fact that you weren’t easy, and how unaffected you were by whoever showed interest in you. she’d never heard about any of the jocks or frat boys hooking up with you, and the stories she has heard she knew weren’t true. you are far too much of a good girl for that. that’s exactly what makes ellie want to ruin you. god, she seems to always notice how cute you look in those tight pants, or how beautiful your hair looks each day. she even noticed how you cut it a few months ago; nobody else did because you only cut a few inches, and when ellie complimented you on it, you actually blushed. the interaction gave the brunette hope that she had a chance.

when ellie first approaches you, it’s because she needs help in her english literature class. she normally has excessive skills when it comes to talking to girls; she’s nearly slept with half the cheer team, started drama throughout the schools debate club because she slept with three members, and there were even rumors going around about her and one of the hot professors at the school. you knew ellie williams was nothing but trouble; but there was something in those evergreen orbs that caused you to soften whenever she was near. she’d smile or blush sheepishly, and it would make your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way that terrified you.

so when ellie asks for your help, you instinctively say yes. that’s how you end up meeting ellie in the campus library every thursday for a study session. though, it’s the fourth session and each time ellie seems to get more and more side tracked. she can’t help it; the weather is getting hotter, and those tight jeans you’ve been alternating between throughout the winter turn into tight denim shorts. that black long sleeve top you’re wearing, hugs your body just right. ellie can’t help but let her eyes roam down. you notice every time. whenever she’d look at you, her eyes would trail you up and down, and then back up to meet your gaze. she’d lick her lips and flash you that grin that made your knees weak. though you had to continuously remind yourself that her grin probably makes every girl around here weak.

“you going to jesse’s party tonight?” ellie asks hopefully, and you shake your head. “no, i have plans with joey tonight.” you confess and ellie tenses up. “joey? frat boy joey?” she asks, and you can hear the clear disdain in her voice. “yeah, he needs help studying. like you. he’s coming here after you leave.” you explain and ellie purses her lips. she doesn’t want you to be alone with joey. the library is empty and her stomach sinks as she thinks about how pretty you look tonight. “maybe i can stay extra, just so you don’t have to deal with him alone.” the offer hangs there for a moment, and it shocks you. “why wouldn’t i want to deal with him? it’s only an hour, and he doesn’t seem too bad.” you say uncertainly, though you don’t want to tell her you’d prefer not to be alone with him. you thought the library would be a little more full tonight, but the fact that there’s a frat party tells you nobody’s going to be worried about studying.

maybe that’s why joey agreed so quickly. “he’s just a creep. i’d rather you not be alone with him.” ellie states and you feel your heart lurch in an unrecognizable way. “careful, williams, it sounds like you care.” you taunt, and she stares at you with those intense green eyes. “what if i do?” she asks, and your breath gets caught in your windpipe as you lose all train of thought. “i mean we’re friends now, right? i’m allowed to care about you.” she blurts out, and you chew on your bottom lip. you’ve never heard about ellie williams being friends with any girls. except for dina who’s her roommate, but she’s dating jesse. you shrug, “i guess we are friends… fine, you can stay.” you give in, turning away before noticing her relieved expression. “but what about the party?” you question uncertainly, and she shrugs, “i’d rather be here.” she admits, and that stupid knot in your stomach returns again.

for the next few weeks you and ellie get ironically close. your library study sessions end up moving to your dorm, and ellie meets your roommate michelle. the blonde is crazy and a party animal, but it turns out you’ve both been friends since middle school. you’re so carefree in your dorm, and the posters and pictures on your wall show ellie you’re actually an extremely outgoing person, regardless of how you try to portray yourself. every time she learns something about you, she falls deeper for you. whenever she makes you laugh, her heart lurches and she can’t help but stare at you. she’s never felt this way with anyone else.

though it doesn’t take you long to bring up all of ellie’s rendezvous. “c’mon ellie, cat and katherine in the same week?? they’re friends! what did you expect?” you ask, giggling mercilessly as she tells you why cat and katherine got suspended last month. she rubs the back of her neck, her cheeks reddening. “i didn’t realize they’d tell each other!” she responds and you raise a brow. “seriously?? girls have bigger mouths than guys when it comes to hook ups!” you tell her, and she smirks. “do you?” she inquires tantalizingly, and you roll your eyes. “i don’t hook up.” you answer simply, causing her to smirk. “or you just don’t kiss and tell.” she points out, your cheeks flushing at the insinuation.

“no, i really don’t hook up. i think it’s pointless to sleep with someone you don’t actually have a connection with. meaningless sex doesn’t sound appealing to me.” you explain, and she blinks a few times. you shake your head quickly, realizing how that sounded. you didn’t want to offend her, so you rush to add on, “not that there’s anything wrong with it!!” you save yourself and she laughs. “hey, don’t stop on my account. i mean hooking up is fun, but that’s all it is; you’re right, it doesn’t mean anything.” she reveals, but she doesn’t tell you how glad she is to know you don’t hook up. she knows how hypocritical that would sound.

“would you at least consider dating?” she asks curiously, and you purse your lips. “probably not.” you respond, “it’d only get in the way of my studies.” you add while she only nods. “oh. so if i asked you on a date you’d say no?” she questions smoothly; your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire. “i’d definitely say no. especially when you were just bragging about ‘bagging’ cat and katherine in the same week.” your face expression is serious, but she can see in your eyes there’s traces of hurt mixed in your orbs. “but those are just hookups. you said it yourself they don’t mean anything.” she counterpoints, and you frown. it means something to me, the words are hanging off your tongue. but it shouldn’t mean anything to me, you think. she shouldn’t mean anything to you. she’s a player. a known player, with a reputation for ruining every girl she touches. why would i even risk it?

“if they didn’t mean anything to you, i certainly won’t either.” you argue, and she blinks at you, staring at you as if you’ve grown an extra head. “what do you mean? you’re different, you’re the prettiest girl at this place.” she admits, and you feel the blood rise to your face, “how many girls have you told that one to? seriously els, let’s get back to studying, this essay isn’t going to write itself.” you try to shut down the argument, and she deflates a bit. it’s not as though she has any more defense to her argument. she knows you’re right, and she knows she made her reputation herself.

“can you believe it, d?? she said she’d say no if i asked her out on a date!” ellie rants at the bar over the loud music. dina raises a brow, traces of amusement laced into her features. “didn’t she say it was because of all the girls you go through? i mean, i know i’m your best friend, ellie, but that’s a valid reason not to get involved with someone.” she shrugs, making ellie’s eyes widen in offense. “seriously?! who’s side are you on??” the brunette asks, making dina laugh in disbelief. “certainly not yours! because of you, rachel and carina were arguing all throughout my sociology lesson.” dina grumbles, and ellie sighs as she lays her head on the bar counter, squishing her forehead against the cool marble surface.

“she’s never going to want me.” ellie groans pathetically, and dina rolls her eyes. “wow, pull yourself together. if you really want her to want you, you need to put in actual effort.” dina starts, her tone stringent and up for no debates. ellie opens her mouth to say something, but the raven haired girl beats her to it. “seriously, this can’t be like all of your half assed attempts at getting into someone’s pants. if you really want her, prove it.” dina says sternly, and ellie sits up, flashing her a questioning look. “what am i supposed to do!? i’ve never done this sort of thing before… i just— i don’t know how to get out of the friendzone. i’ve never been in the friendzone with someone i actually want.” ellie grumbles, and dina hums in amusement. “for one, stop hooking up with every girl you find attractive. being easily accessible to other girls isn’t as hot as you think.” dina slaps ellie’s back a little too hard, causing her roommate/best friend to glare at her.

“ow!” “and actually make an effort to get to know her. text her, ask about her day, her favorite bands and artists. you said she’s smart, does she like books? ask her about her favorite book and major.” dina explains, “what if she doesn’t want to tell me those things? we’ve only been friends for two months, and she literally only talks about studying.” ellie says, her tone laced with insecurity. “y/n is nice. i’ve talked to her a few times at the library. she’ll tell you those things as soon as you ask. all you have to do is put in effort till she notices.” dina assures her, and ellie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her phone.

“what are you doing?” dina asks uncertainly, “texting y/n about her day and favorite band and all that bullshit.” ellie slurs as she begins smashing her thumbs on the keyboard, and dina’s eyes widen. imagine your surprise when you wake up at midnight to a bunch of texts from ellie, asking you about your day, and your favorite books. the grammatical errors in the message don’t fail to make you smile, and you can’t even fight the way your heart warms.

you: go to sleep, ellie.

ellie: i can’t stop thinking about you.

you: think about me while you sleep. it’s late.

ellie: i was at the bar with dina tonight, just got to my room. gonna dream about you, princess <3

you roll your eyes at her cheesy message. of course she’s intoxicated. you have a small smile on your lips as you type back a single message.

you: goodnight ellie. don’t forget to keep a water bottle by your bed for the morning.

you aren’t sure why ellie williams seems to suddenly be interested in you. it’s a strange feeling to be wanted by one of the most wanted girls in school. you can’t help but wonder if she’s truly interested, or if you’re accusations are correct and she’s just trying to get into your pants. you sigh as you put your phone down and try to go back to sleep. thoughts of ellie plague your mind, and you hate the way her smile makes you feel all warm inside. you’re trying your absolute hardest to not feel anything for ellie williams, but it doesn’t seem to be working out very well for you. especially not when she drunk texts you the cutest things.

the texts don’t stop there. over the next few weeks ellie begins to text you daily, nonstop. she’ll send you memes, or posts that remind her of you. she’ll even send pictures of puppies she sees when she’s out in town. there was a night where you were reading, and ellie sent you a voice memo of her playing guitar and lightly singing a song she wrote. her voice made you feel as though your heart was about to burst right out of your chest. it’s been three and a half months of trying to ignore these feelings in your belly every time the brunette is near. three months of trying to keep your blush at bay, and not laugh at her horrible puns.

“i didn’t know you could sing like that.” you pipe up one day as you’re revising her essay for her english class. her cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink, and you have to bite your bottom lip to stop from smiling. “i don’t normally let anyone know that i can sing… but you’re special to me.” she clarifies, and you stare at her, getting lost in her emerald eyes. “maybe one day you can come to my dorm, and i’ll sing for you in person.” she flirts, and you just now realized how close she’s sitting. the blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to force yourself to look away, breaking eye contact. “when will your excessive flirting ever end?” you ask her, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

ellie smirks, “when you finally agree to give me a chance.” she declares, and you can’t help but frown. “a chance? a chance at what, ellie? to get in my pants and then never talk to me again?” you ask, sounding slightly upset. ellie shakes her head quickly, “no! y/n you know i’d never do that to you.” she tries, and you sigh. “no, i don’t. the truth is, i like you and it scares me, ellie… but the way you treat girls scares me more.” you whisper, unable to look at her, ellie feels her heart sinking in her chest. she feels herself responding with one of the only few emotions she knows; anger. “no offense, but how would you even know how i treat women?” she asks, and you can hear the clear offense in her tone.

“i already told you that girls talk, ellie. i know what i’ve heard from them, and what i hear from you is no better.” you don’t even look at her as you continue revising her essay on her laptop. “look, you misspelled ‘continuity’.” you say, swiftly trying to change the subject, but ellie doesn’t let up. “the way i treat girls i don’t care about is different. i care about you. i could treat you so well, and take you on dates.” she begins rambling, and you look up at her, your eyes unamused. “have you ever even been on a date, ellie?” you ask unable to contain a chuckle. “well— erm— no, but i bet i could plan one. a better date than you’ve ever been on.” she tells you, leading you to tilt your head to the side in order flash her a curious look. “is that so? well, maybe you should practice by actually taking your next conquest on a date.” you suggest sassily, and she deflates.

i don’t want to date anyone who isn’t you, she thinks, but chooses not to press any further. instead she goes back to her room after you finish revising her essay, and even though she doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening, you still receive a goodnight text from her. a simple message shouldn’t make you smile or give you butterflies, but it does. you respond to her, and go to sleep, thoughts of ellie freaking williams on your mind, and you have to continually remind yourself that you’re not the only poor girl thinking about her tonight. you think about the advice you gave her, to take some poor other girl out on a date… but the thought of that makes your heart ache. you don’t want ellie to date or hookup with anyone else, but that’s wrong. ellie can do whatever she likes, you just wish she only wanted to do you.

your disheartening thoughts from last night linger all throughout the morning. you don’t text ellie back, and when she asks to hang out, you don’t even answer. you’re starting to realize the main problem is you’ve been spending so much time with her, and the closer you two get, the more you fall for those freckle coated cheeks, and evergreen eyes. you can’t help how you feel, and you know ellie only flirts with you because that’s the way she is. it doesn’t mean anything to her, and that’s what hurts the worst. to her you’re just some other girl, and to you she’s starting to take up spaces in your mind like she owns it.

it doesn’t take long for ellie to find you on a bench outside of the university after your classes. you’re reading some stephen king novel that’s pretty worn, “you’ve been hard to find.” ellie’s soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up to see her standing there with a button up collared shirt, and those jeans that make her look cuter than anyone you’ve ever seen. “i’ve been looking for you. and texting you.” the brunette says, and you shrug. “i’ve been busy.” you murmur and she frowns as she takes a seat next to you. “too busy to hang out with me?” she asks, and you shrug. “you’re a little distracting.” you admit as you wave your book at her.

she smirks, and it makes your belly flip flop. “you calling me distracting?” ellie teases, and you let a giggle escape your lips. the delightful sound causes ellie to grin. “yeah, you are. in the worst way.” you joke, and she throws her head back and laughs. she stares at you for a moment, “i have a date tonight.” she admits, and you tense up. “oh really?” you question, trying not to sound too interested. “yup. angela from kappa sorority.” she explains and you chuckle, “a sorority girl?” you ask, and ellie can hear the slight judgment in your voice. “well, the girl i want won’t give me the time of day, and i’m trying to prove i can do more than just sleep with a girl.” she explains simply, and you roll your eyes.

“where are you taking her?” you inquire, and ellie shrugs, “probably maria’s diner downtown.” she says and you nod. “nice. hope you have fun.” you sound pretty genuine, but ellie can see a trace of hurt in your features. you’re trying to ignore the way your stomach sinks at the thought of her smiling at some pretty girl, and paying for her dinner. you hate thinking about it. “maybe we can hang out before? get some studying in?” she asks hopefully, she just wants to spend as much time as she can with you. “can’t. i have to do homework before i help joey and kayla with their project for an english seminar.” you explain, and ellie only nods in a bit of disappointment.

“will you be free tomorrow?” she asks and you shrug, the thought of having to hear about how good her date went doesn’t sound too appealing. “i’ll text you.” you weakly respond and she nods as she stands up, flashing you a questioning look. “uh, okay…” she wants to say something about how upset you seem, but she doesn’t want to press. “i’ll see you later then.” she adds, and you only nod as she walks away. you try not to watch her leave, but you can’t help it. you release a ragged breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “i’m so screwed.”

throughout the night you ignore ellie’s texts, trying not to think about her date. the next day you begin to avoid ellie as if she has the plague. it doesn’t take her long to notice. you’d leave her on read, and she checked the library but you weren’t there. all of the benches around the university that you’d usually sit at to read were empty, and you weren’t in the cafeteria. that’s how ellie ends up in front of your dorm room, knocking lightly yet adamantly. when you open it you’re wearing a pair of tight flare jeans, a pair of converse, and that cute cropped sweater that fits you well.

“e-ellie what are you doing here?” you ask, obviously surprised to see her. “you’ve been ignoring me. why?” she asks as she pushes her way into your room. your roommate is sitting on her bed, and she raises a brow, “should i give you guys privacy?” michelle asks and you nod, “yes please.” you breathe out, and the blonde nods as she gets up and reaches for her phone and purse. “i’m gonna bring lunch. for three in case you’re still here when i get back.” michelle tells ellie before she leaves you two alone. the atmosphere is tense, and you can’t even look at her.

“how was your date?” you inquire, ignoring her previous question. “is that why you’ve been ignoring me? because i went on a date?” she asks in disbelief, making you scoff. “i haven’t been ignoring you, i’ve been busy.” you lie through your teeth, and now it’s ellie’s turn to scoff. “seriously? you expect me to believe that? every day for the last four months we’ve been hanging out, and now suddenly you’re busy?” she asks, her tone stern and angry. you roll your eyes opting not to respond. this only adds to her frustration, “i mean, what gives? i thought we were friends.” she points out, her tone more fragile now, and it makes you pause. your hard expression falters, but you can only stare at her incredulously. “friends?” you ask, your tone skeptical and hurt, “a friend wouldn’t endlessly flirt with me, and pin me in the same category as every other girl in this school. they don’t say all this stuff that’s supposed to have meaning, and then go on a date with some other girl. friends don’t look at each other the way we do, ellie!” you snap and she’s staring at you with wide eyes, while her breath is lodged in her windpipe.

“you like me.” she blurts out, her tone laced with realization. you blink, “you like me, like me.” she declares, and you release a shaky sigh. “i do. but i can’t afford to, ellie. you’re not the kind of person i’m supposed to be with. i need someone who’s ready for commitment, and who has a whole lot of patience. you don’t have either of those things.” you begin to ramble, and ellie frowns. “why do you always make me seem like i’m a terrible person?? is that really what you think of me? that i’m so shit, i don’t even deserve a chance to show you i can be better?” she asks, and the hurt in those eyes makes you feel tremendously guilty. but you don’t let up, “you’re a wonderful person, ellie. you’re funny, and smart, and you always make me smile… but i don’t think you’d be a good girlfriend. i’m sorry. i think it’s best if we don’t talk anymore.” you say, your voice low and distant.

ellie stares at you in disbelief. “so that’s it?? you’re just never gonna talk to me again?” she questions angrily, and you look down at your shoes. “i’m sorry ellie.” you whisper, and she stares at you with a look of pure betrayal. “you know, i may not know what it’s like to be in love or know how to be a perfect girlfriend, but i would do anything you ask. i would never hurt you intentionally. so, you just lost someone who actually gives a shit about you.” she hisses venomously, as she turns to leave, and you have to clamp down on your bottom lip as you try to ignore the tears that are threatening to leave your eyes.

ellie leaves but you can’t watch her go. you don’t want that memory engraved into your brain. her words are all you can hear replaying in your head, and it isn’t until you can taste the salt from your tears that you realize you’re crying. you haven’t cried over a girl since high school, and now you feel like a fool for letting ellie get so close. you didn’t even let her touch you and you still ended up broken-hearted like her string of other women. but this was different, and it’s taken you this long to realize it. ellie didn’t even try to get into your pants, yet it still hurts just as much, maybe more. you can’t help but feel guilty for being so harsh, but how could you possibly give ellie a chance to break your heart for real? you’re terrified of the way you feel about her.

you: i’m sorry.

ellie leaves you on read after that, and two days go by with you thinking about her consistently. she doesn’t try to show up at your door anymore, or go out of her way to look for you on campus. ellie is now actively avoiding you, the same way you were avoiding her. the guilt and sadness was gnawing you up inside, and you couldn’t fight the urge to make things right. that’s how you ended up at jesse’s frat party. you’re wearing a tight white cropped top that ties around the back of your neck, and light blue denim levi short shorts. your hair was curled perfectly in hopes you’d see ellie tonight and get to make things right. you realize that if you don’t give her chance, you’re going to be heartbroken over all of the ‘what if’s’.

“hey y/n! i didn’t think you’d come tonight!” dina shouts over the loud music, as she stands in front of you, she has a strange smile on her face. she looks almost nervous. you smile back, choosing not to dwell on it. “hey d! yeah, i’m looking for ellie, have you seen her?” you ask and dina’s smile falters, “uh, she’s— she’s around.” dina lies horribly. as if on cue you move a bit to the side, and see what she was covering with her body by standing in front of you.

madeline from one of the sorority houses was hanging off ellie’s neck, and the brunette’s hands were all over madeline. your heart breaks at the sight; you have a few classes with the blonde and she’s on the cheer team. she’s drop dead stunning. that’s when ellie leans in and kisses the cheerleader in a way that cause the final bits of your heart to crack into little pieces. suddenly you feel like an absolute fool for coming here tonight.

“y/n…” dina tries, and you clear your throat, shaking your head, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. “do me a favor and don’t tell her i was here, okay?” you ask pleadingly and dina flashes you a concerned look. “please?” you nearly beg, your voice cracking slightly, causing her to sigh. she nods reluctantly and you rush off, making your way for the exit you just came in through. you try not to cry, and thankfully your roommate/best friend is at that stupid party trying to get laid. you let it all out as soon as you get to your dorm; your mascara’s running, and you’re sure you sound as pathetic as you look. the image of one of the prettiest girls in school hanging off ellie’s neck is now burned into your mind. you should’ve known better than to think you could actually make things work with ellie williams.

#ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x reader jealous #ellie williams x female reader #fanfic #lesbian fanfic #lgbtq #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader angst #texting with ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #jealousy #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #fuck!girl ellie #fuck!girl ellie williams #player!ellie #simp!ellie

[clockwayswrites]

Didn't write the rest of this scene I've shared bits of or anything.

WC: 913, Masterpost Sometime after Danny meets Red Hood, before he plots.

Jason actually stopped on the stairs when he saw Danny. He was going down and Danny coming up, but the sight made Jason freeze rather than just stepping to the side like he normally would. Danny looked beyond exhausted. His usually perky hair was limp, the bags under his eyes were impressively dark, and he tripped over every step. Jason was half worried that while he had been away, Danny had gotten turned into a zombie.

Considering it was Gotham and the city already had Grundy (and Jason himself), it was a disturbingly valid concern.

“Midterms,” Danny mumbled several long moments after he had caught sight of Jason standing on the next landing up.

Okay, midterms made sense too.

(Nice not to have to clean up a zombie outbreak as soon as he was back in town.)

“Just starting, in the middle of, or over?”

“Over, thank the Ancients. Last paper turned in,” Danny said with a dramatic motion that made him wobble dangerously against the railing. Jason closed the gap between them nervously. “I’m gonna go… go… what’s the word?”

“Eat? Shower? Sleep?”

“That!” Danny snapped his fingers. “All of that. In some order, I guess.”

Jason reached out and gently took Danny’s arm. “Okay, Tuesday, I don’t know if I trust you not to slip in the shower and smash your pretty face in right now.”

“You think my face is pretty?”

Ignoring his blush, Jason moved past that fact quickly. “So how about you come up to my place. You can shower while I make you a snack and then you can lay down for a nap. When you wake up, I’ll have dinner ready.”

“Mm, dinner. I like dinner. I miss dinner,” Danny said dreamily.

Jason decided just to get them moving up the stairs. “When’s the last time you ate something more than granola bars and soup, Danny?”

“What day is it? Wait! I know this. Physics. T-R. Thursday!” Danny said. He was clearly very proud of himself.

“Food, Tuesday.”

“Yes please.”

Holding back a sigh, Jason carefully directed Danny up the stairs to the top floor. His things wouldn’t exactly fit Danny, but he was loathe to let the other out of his sight right then. He’d just make sure to grab sweats that had a drawstring on them. After Danny was asleep, he could make a quick run to the store to get some fresh things for dinner.

It was a bit of a juggle to keep a watchful arm around Danny and get his door unlocked and then relocked, but Jason managed before guiding Danny through the bedroom to the full bathroom.

“Stay.”

“Yes sir,” Danny quipped, words interrupted by the large yawn he took.

Once Jason was sure Danny would stay standing he pulled away to go dig out some clothing and a fresh towel, only to turn around and run into the dresser himself like he was the one sleep deprived. It was just that, well, Danny had started to strip and was already down to his boxers. It was a lot of skin on display and Jason couldn’t help but watch the play of freckles and scars across the shoulder blades.

That was… there were actually a concerning number of scars, for a civilian.

And the type of scars… a lot of those looked like burns and electrical scars. Several puncture wounds too. What was Danny getting into? Jason gripped tightened on the clothing in his hands. They needed to step up training.

“Clothing!” Danny cooed sleepily.

Jason shook himself out of his thoughts and delivered the clothing into Danny’s grabbing hands. “Be careful in the shower. I’ll be outside the door in case you fall.”

“I’m fine,” Danny said. “I’m not even bleeding!”

That really wasn’t reassuring.

“Still, be careful, Tuesday,” Jason said, making a quick exit as Danny started to pull down his boxers. He didn’t want Danny to remember all this after some food and sleep and feel like Jason had invaded his privacy or anything.

While the shower ran, Jason considered just what he could do for the snack. He thought he had some waffles he froze and he had to have some breakfast links in the freezer too, so pigs in blankets would be easy. No fresh fruit, but he had froze so a smoothie for vitamins and fluids. He might add some powdered mix to it also. Then he could tuck Danny in for a nap before he ran a quick trip to the grocery. A soup and some fresh bread would be nice and easy to keep warm for as long as Danny slept.

The shower shut off, Jason tried not to worry about the sounds of bumbling about, and then the door opened with a whoosh.

“Ta-da! I am still mostly alive!” Danny said triumphantly.

“I’m proud of you, Tuesday, a real accomplishment there.”

“Do I get a reward?” Danny asked, a hint of that feral smile that Jason had seen as Red Hood playing across his lips.

Jason cleared his throat. “Sure, you in a blanket, pigs in a blanket, and a smoothie.”

Danny hummed before nodding. “Deal.”

“So glad you agree,” Jason drawled as he deposited Danny on the couch and draped a red throw blanket around his shoulders. Jason leaned in a little to catch Danny’s eyes. “Now, stay.”

Danny wavered for a moment, leaning forward close enough to touch before he just slumped back into the couch with a wide yawn. “’Kay.”

-----

AN: I know you all have seen a few bits of this before, but finally got the rest of the parts done around it! There should prob be more after the last bit here, but wanted you all to finally have some Not!Writing again! Sorry for any issues, my fingers really are not doing what they should atm.

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

#dp x dc #dead on main #the fic that i'm not writing

[strangersmunsons]

bark at the moon

there's something suuuuper weird in your garage. your best friend Robin calls up her old pals, Steve and Eddie, to come and take a look.

Contains: Eddie x Fem!Reader. Mix of canon & Modern AU, w/ tweaks to established lore (faithfulness to the source material? I don’t know her). Plot of the show is more or less the same, but focus will be on minor threats escaping from the Upside Down, and no more. Everyone is aged up a bit, timeline of events is kept vague. Reader learns some secrets that are tough to wrap her head around, Eddie is an awkward sweetheart, and platonic!Stobin reigns supreme. Word Count: ~8.1k Warnings: Some brief descriptions of gore. Reader has a mild panic attack. Mentions of food & eating. Strong language. I've been tinkering away at this fic since the summer; it's a little different than the sweet & fluffy stuff I normally post, but I had a blast writing it! So I hope you guys enjoy! 🩷

“Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” You smack a kiss to Robin’s cheek and push your stool back against the bar. “Try not to get into too much trouble tonight. It’s only Thursday.”

“No promises,” Vickie chimes in, grinning toothily at you, cheeks flushed from a mix of joy and booze. 

“I mean it.” You jab a finger in her direction, only half-jokingly. “If you FaceTime me again at 3 AM so I can provide ‘emotional support’ while you’re puking your guts out in the bathroom, I’m hanging up.”

Vickie doesn’t even blink. “You won’t hang up,” she replies dismissively.

She’s totally right, but you don’t say so.

“Just try and keep your insides where they belong, please. They should be, y’know — on the inside. Alright? I love you both. Goodnight!” You blow another dramatic kiss in their direction as you saunter out of the bar, weaving between sticky tables over the even-stickier floor to the exit. 

Lizzy’s is you, Robin, and Vickie’s favorite haunt, a nondescript dive bar located on the outskirts of town. It’s a squat, dingy little building tucked neatly away into a thicket of trees at the deadend of a backroad. There’s no neighbors or rival businesses in sight, just a small parking lot with a defunct telephone booth that probably hasn’t worked in several decades. The bar is usually only frequented by patrons belonging to one of two exclusive sects: members of the local biker gang, and this random lesbian couple and their one friend. 

Truly a hidden gem.

Happy Hour at Lizzy’s has been a tradition for you and Robin (and Vickie, when she chooses to tag along) since you met at work retreat a year ago. When you caught sight of her funky patched-up blazer and choppy hairstyle, you immediately clocked her as the other youngest, coolest person in the room and forced your friendship upon her in the name of survival. Who else were you gonna hang out with for an entire weekend — Matt from HR who, ironically, was on probation for sending a coworker unsolicited dick pics? No way.

“Hey, can you hold the other side of my bag open for me? I’m gonna jam these cookies in there — quickly, while no one’s looking.”

Two peas in a pod, stealing extra goodies from the complimentary snack table and gossiping in the back row during presentations when you should’ve been listening. You’ve been attached at the hip ever since.

Full of mirth from the quality time spent with your best friend, you hum cheerfully to yourself as you push through the exit and step outside. The door whacks shut behind you, closing you off from the bar’s warm interior, and immediately, you take notice of two things.

First, you’re met with a surprising chill in the air. It’s been pretty temperate so far this week, and  pleasantly warm earlier in the day, but it’s become startlingly cold in the mere hours you were inside the bar. You swear you can see a frozen puff of breath each time you exhale. You hug your arms around yourself, frowning slightly. Gravel crunches under your feet as you walk to your car.

The second thing you notice is that it’s obscenely dark out. A single orange streetlamp flickers in the parking lot, illuminating little more than the fluttering moths bashing themselves stupidly into the bulb. There’s no moon in the black-velvet sky; it’s just a blanket of darkness above. You glance at the watch on your wrist, but the time is indiscernible without proper lighting. I guess it’s later than I thought?

The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. There’s a gross, inexplicable feeling of nakedness as you cross the lot; the cold, unexpected dark and loss of time has you feeling disoriented and exposed. Naturally, your mind begins dredging up scenes from every horror movie you’ve ever watched, and you pick up the pace. Reaching the car, you wrench open the driver-side door, eager to be within the safe confines of the vehicle.

You slide in, and release a relieved breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Slumping back against the seat, you think, Man, I gotta lay off the slasher flicks.

The moment doesn’t last long. Another bolt of paranoia suddenly shoots through you — you whip your head around, searching the backseat for a killer lurking in the shadows, waiting to slice your throat open, possibly with a machete, or maybe even a hook attached to a stumpy wrist.

Nothing there. Totally empty. Not even an extremely trim, flexible murderer contorting themselves out of view down on the cramped floor space.

“It’s fine,” you say aloud to no one in particular, turning forward again. You start the car and ease out of the lot, switching the radio to a pop station — your last line of defense. No one ever got brutally murdered while listening to Britney. 

Thankfully, the ride is uneventful, and nobody pops up behind you with any instruments of violence. The further you get into town, with its familiar lights and gentle hum of nighttime traffic, the more at ease you feel. Your mind drifts, thinking of work, what you’ll make for dinner tomorrow, whether or not Vickie will be throwing up within the next hour. Any mundane topic that’ll help calm your nerves.

Eventually you reach home and pull into the garage. It’s a miracle you can even still park in there, it’s so full of junk — old furniture and hardware tools and odds and ends you haven’t had the energy to try and sort through.

A sigh escapes as you cross the threshold that separates the garage from the house. The sweet, homey kitchen is a welcome sight to enter. You put a kettle on for a cup of tea before bed, and decide to dial Robin while you wait for the water to boil.

She picks up after several rings.

“Hello my love.”

“Hi Rob. I’m alive.”

“Oh, good. That would’ve been awkward if it was someone else calling me.”

“Are you still at the bar?” 

“Yeah, we’re leaving in a few. Vickie says she’s fine, but she’s got that look in her eye, so…”

There’s a faint “I am fine!” in the background and you snicker. “Good luck with that.”

Robin snorts. “Thanks. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Robin bids you goodnight, and you feel a rush of affection for her. Your roommate recently moved out to go live with her boyfriend, leaving you as the sole tenant of the house. Although you reassured her endlessly that you had no issues living alone, Robin was insistent on constantly checking up on you lest you ‘get SVUed’ — her phrasing, not yours.

The kettle starts whistling, and you pour the steaming water into a mug with a bag of chamomile. You plop down on the soft cushion tied to the kitchen chair, letting the weariness of the day settle in your bones. 

You scroll idly through your phone while sipping your tea, ignoring the slight burn it leaves on your lips and tongue. The old house settles and creaks while you relax, making those soft noises that you’ve become accustomed to over time. In fact, you’re so used to it by now that in your sleepy state, you don’t even register the odd sound in the garage, a sort of thunk, not unlike that of a confused bird flying into a picture window. 

When the last drop of tea is gone, you place the mug in the dishwasher and head for your bedroom. You go through the steps of your night routine as though on autopilot before finally crashing into the plush bed. Within minutes, sleep takes you.

The sound of your alarm is innocuous enough — a small tinkle of bells or chimes or whatever cheerful twee instrument it is that Apple is using. 

It’s incredible how something so innocent can sound so ungodly. Ugh.

Barely lifting your head up off the pillow, you drag the trilling device towards you with snatching fingers and turn it off. Maybe you’ll get up when the second alarm goes off, but let’s be honest — it probably won’t be until the third, and even then you might steal a few extra minutes under the covers. 

Eventually you manage to pull yourself upright and, with a huge yawn, lurch out of bed. You shuffle down the hall, thinking of little more than the bagel you’re gonna demolish before jumping in the shower, and make your way back into the kitchen. Your bare feet pad softly across the linoleum floor, cold and sticking slightly to your heels. The sky outside the window is a dark, deep blue. 

Then finally, in the stillness of the early morning, you hear a dull thud.

You pause halfway to the toaster. 

Ten seconds go by. Silence.

Okay, that’s fine, it’s probably noth–

Thud. 

Goddamn it.

There’s a stab of alarm as the sound repeats again, then twice more in rapid succession. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to remain calm, and grab the softball bat you keep propped up by the door. Safety first.

You tiptoe cautiously to the door separating the kitchen and the garage, thinking it’s probably a raccoon or something, he slipped inside when I drove in last night. Actually, there’s so much shit in there, he’s probably been living there for weeks. I really should call a Junk King – 

You push the door open slowly, peering around the edge, prepared to fight. Your self-defense weapon is made of bright pink aluminum that catches the dim kitchen light emanating from behind you, glinting in your hands. You’re pretty sure it’s a little-league number so, clearly, it’ll be an even match for whatever it is that awaits you.

At first, nothing appears out of the ordinary. There’s no human silhouettes lurking in the dark. Everything is more or less the same as it was last night. The car is right where you left it, and the windows are intact. The spare furniture crammed against the perimeter is still there – nothing is missing or vandalized. But the room is still too dark for you to make out any less obvious differences, so you reach for the lightswitch on the left side of the doorframe.

And then, from the far corner of the room, up towards the ceiling, there’s an ear-splitting screech that nearly stops your heart. 

Before you even have time to blink, a shadowy mass is suddenly flying straight at you. It’s still mostly obscured in the dark — whatever it is — a nebulous blur that swings in a low arc across the room. It’s moving so quickly that the air whistles as the creature cuts a path through it.

You let out a shriek of your own and spring backwards, slamming the door shut. It’s just barely closed when it collides into the wood with a frightening crash. You lock the door with numb fingers and slump back against it with your heart in your throat, and a hot, loose feeling in your lower stomach that, in the midst of your hysteria, you manage to acknowledge as a warning that you might shit your pants.

You lurch forward and spin around, now watching the door with wide eyes. The noise from before, which you now understand must have been that thing flinging itself against the walls, resumes with a fervor that makes you sick with fright. It slams into the door relentlessly, and you physically cringe with each hit.

With shaking hands, you pull one of the kitchen chairs out and prop it underneath the door handle. You really don’t think it could be strong enough to break through, but…

At least you don’t think —

“Robin, I’m about to die.”

“...at six-thirty in the morning? Can you put it off until this afternoon, at least?” 

Robin’s voice is still thick with sleep and there’s no doubt that she’s irritated by your early phone call, but right now, you could care less.

“I think there’s some kind of cryptid in my garage.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone.

“Come again?”

“Like, I think the fucking Jersey Devil is in there, or something. When I got up this morning I kept hearing this weird noise, so I put my big girl panties on and went to investigate –”

“By yourself? Are you dumb? What if someone was in there?”

“Hey, I had protection, okay? Besides, I figured it was probably a racoon. If it had been a person planning on hurting me, they weren’t being very discreet about it –”

“Alright, alright. Continue.”

“So I open the door, and next thing I know, this thing screams and starts fucking flying directly at my head. I didn’t get a good look at it, Rob, it was too dark, but that thing is out for blood. It keeps flying into the door. Listen to this shit.”

You put your phone on speaker and hold it out, standing as close to the door as you’re willing to get.

“Um, I can’t hear anything.”

“...well…it was doing it earlier...”

“...right. So, what, a bird flew into your garage?”

“A bird? Maybe.” That sort of fit, right? Whatever it was, it had wings. It was kind of big. It made noise. You consider. “Could be a bat, I suppose.”

Across town, Robin suddenly sits bolt upright in bed. Vickie mumbles incoherently next to her, half-awake from hearing your too-early conversation. 

“I’m coming over,” Robin says abruptly, and hangs up.

Flinging herself out of bed, Robin begins dressing frantically, scrambling to pull a pair of jeans up over her bare legs. Drawers and closet doors bang open and slam shut again. Vickie groans from beneath her pillow. “Could you keep it down, please?”

“No, sorry babe. Gotta go. I’ll explain later.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You rub your temples in irritation and throw yourself back down on the couch. You’ve taken refuge in the living room while you wait for Robin, and have spent the past fifteen minutes going back and forth with animal control. Trying to convince them to come get this thing out of your house? An exercise in futility.

A frantic knocking makes you jump, before you realize it’s coming from outside the house. You cautiously enter the kitchen again and when you see Robin’s face through the small pane of glass in the front door, your whole body sags with relief. You fling it open breathlessly and throw yourself at her. “Thank God!” The words are muffled, as your face is pressed into her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay!” She slings her arm around you in a hug and pats your back. “We’re gonna take care of this.”

You release her and start venting your frustration. “Yeah, we’ll have to. I tried calling animal control and apparently they can’t do anything since it’s not a dog or a cat, and they kept telling me I had to call a wildlife removal agency instead, and they just kept going on about how they have to send a professional who specializes in birds or bats or whatever the hell it is, and that it’s gonna cost me like at least two hundred bucks –”

Robin cuts off your rambling. “I don’t think you should call anyone.”

You huff. “I certainly don’t want to, if it’s gonna cost me that much. I thought this was what animal control did. What am I paying taxes for?”

Robin’s been here all of two minutes and you already feela little better. The run-in earlier had frightened you, certainly, but you’re no longer alone in the house with an eldritch horror.

Robin shakes her head. “No, I mean I already called someone.”

That stops you, and you squint at her in confusion. “Who? You know a guy who handles this kinda thing?”

“...actually, I know two.”

Eddie’s green-and-white van screams around the corner, practically making the turn on two wheels.

“Jesus, Munson, slow down!”

“Relax, Harrington. I’m a certified expert driver. My insurance company said so.”

A Megadeth song that Steve doesn’t know thumps out of the speakers at a deafening volume. Eddie drums his hands on the steering wheel in time with the music, headbanging as vigorously as he can manage without taking his eyes completely off the road.

Steve reaches for the stereo knob and turns it down. Eddie shoots him a disgruntled look from the driver’s seat. “Hey, man —”

“We got somewhere to be, alright? I told Robin we’d get there ASAP. The last thing we need is for you to wrap this thing around a telephone pole.”

“If she didn’t move so far away, we would already be there,” Eddie complains.

“Dude, she lives like an hour away now. Hour and a half, tops.” 

“Well, that’s a long drive when it’s this early!”

Waiting for Robin’s reinforcements to arrive provides ample time for her to shatter your world. You sit together on opposite ends of the couch, staring at each other in intense silence. Your brow is deeply furrowed, eyes nearly shut from the force of the expression.

“Are you being for real, or is this an elaborate lie you’re making up that you’ll laugh at me for falling for later?”

Robin drags her finger across her chest, drawing an imaginary X. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds.”

You let out a high-pitched laugh that sounds more like a wheeze. “Yeah, it sounds fucking crazy!”

Robin’s expression turns resentful. “Hey, you’re the one who called me saying Mothman was in your garage this morning –”

“I said the Jersey Devil, actually, but c’mon! An interdimensional monster. Is that real? Can that really be real?”

“Listen, just think about what you saw. You were pretty freaked. Did it really seem like some rabied-up household pest?”

It didn’t. The odd, kite-like shape, the speed with which it flew, and the utter determination — there was no doubt in your mind that it had dived at you deliberately, with the malicious intent to bite and scratch and hurt. You remember the hot taste of fear in your mouth, like a bitter pill dissolved on the tongue.

“No, it didn’t,” you admit quietly. That thing, whatever it was, was weird. But that doesn’t make Robin’s story any easier to swallow.

When it came to the supernatural or…whatever this was considered, you were neither a believer nor a skeptic. You weren’t willing to fully corroborate the existence of such things until you had experienced something like it yourself, but you still took others’ reports in stride; if someone claimed that they felt cold spots in their grandmother’s bedroom after she died, or that their belongings often ended up in odd places despite no one moving them, then you rolled with it. Who were you to deny their experiences? You wouldn’t tell them they’re wrong. 

But Robin’s Upside Down, well…it’s giving less childhood ghost story and more Stephen King novel. One of the weirder ones too, that he wrote when he was still snorting a ton of cocaine. She’s on some Tommyknockers shit.

“You’ll see,” Robin promises. “When we kill it, you can get a good look at it.”

“Right, about that. Steve is your himbo friend from home, right?”

Robin smiles proudly. “The one and only.”

“But he’s good at this? Getting rid of these things?”

She nods eagerly. “Oh, very. I know I say he’s a himbo, but I’m selling him short, really, he’s the best. Best guy I know, in fact.”

You hear the pointed lilt in her voice, the one that’s always there when Robin mentions Steve to you. You roll your eyes. “There’s a monster in my garage, and you’re worried about getting me a date?”

Robin throws her hands up in defiance. “I’m just sayin’! He and his girlfriend Nancy broke up.” Her face suddenly lights up as she remembers a bit of gossip. “She’s bisexual now, by the way! Shame she didn’t realize it when we were in high school together, I had a huuuuge crush on her.”

“I thought you had a huge crush on Vickie in high school?”

“I did,” she says, as though there’s nothing contradictory about that fact. “Listen, I’m a complex, multifaceted lesbian, with a lot of —“

She’s interrupted by the knocking at the front door, and both of your heads turn automatically towards the sound. 

It’s your second house-call of the day. Robin jumps up, winking at you. “It’s gonna be fine,” she whispers, and takes your hand, giving it a squeeze.

You follow her back into the kitchen, where you’re promptly welcomed by the sight of two boy-faces smushed shamelessly against the glazing in the door. 

Robin rolls her eyes and yanks it open.

Without the door in place to support him, one boy loses his balance and topples forward, crashing into the kitchen. The other boy, who pulled back in time, laughs openly at him. 

“Hey, dinguses, this isn’t my house, remember? Don’t be weird.”

“There’s not a day in Munson’s life that he hasn’t been weird.”

The one pulling himself up off the floor grunts out, “I resent that.” When he’s fully upright, he gazes at you with wide eyes and a slight frown, not saying anything.

Robin steps in and they each take turns embracing her in greeting. One of them even ruffles her hair affectionately, and you watch the three of them with interest.

You’ve seen enough pictures of Steve Harrington by now that you could pick him out from a mile away. Of the two boys he’s taller, and more classically handsome, with his pretty features and artfully-sculpted hair. In his neat green pullover and pressed jeans, you can totally picture King Steve as he was in high school — athletic and rich and preppy, with his equally rich and preppy girlfriend.

While you recognize Steve immediately, this other boy you know less. He looks only vaguely familiar, perhaps a background figure in Robin’s photos. His dark hair is long, curly and disheveled, and his eyes are huge and starkly brown against his pale skin. Despite the early hour they must’ve left at, he's taken the time to deck himself out in black leather and loads of silver jewelry.

After he releases Robin, Steve introduces himself. He saunters forward confidently, one hand extended out towards you. “I’m Steve,” he says with a charming smile. He cocks his head slightly to the side, and there’s a brief pause for dramatic effect. “Steve Harrington.” 

In your peripheral vision, you can see Robin holding a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. The other boy shoots him a dirty look.

You shake his hand politely, mildly amused. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”

When Steve releases your hand, the dark-haired one gives you an awkward wave. “I’m Eddie.” 

The name rings a bell. You wave back and smile at him kindly. “Hi, Eddie.”

He shuffles his feet, Reeboks squeaking against the linoleum, not quite meeting your eyes. 

“I’m really glad you both are here,” you add, glancing between the two boys. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Our pleasure,” Steve replies. “Always happy to be of service —”

“So,” Eddie cuts in, “where did you find this little fucker, anyway?”

“The garage.” Your voice is soft with trepidation. “The door’s right there.”

Three sets of eyes, blue and hazel and brown, follow the line of your pointed index finger. The chair is still jammed underneath the knob in a feeble attempt to barricade the door.

“Alright, we just need to grab our stuff from the van,” Eddie tells you. “And we’ll take care of it. If there’s only one, it shouldn’t take us long at all.”

You nod, like this is all good and normal and not the weirdest morning of your life. “Okay.”

When they move to head outside again, Steve eyes your little pink aluminum softball bat, back in its place in the corner. He smiles. “Hey, I got one of those!“

Eddie jogs lightly to catch up with Steve as he strides to where the van is parked outside.

“Hey,” he hisses, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder to get his attention. “You didn’t tell me this was Robin’s hot friend.”

“Huh?” Steve squints at him, disgruntled. “Who else would it have been?”

“I don’t know, literally anyone?”

“If I’m talking about Robin’s friend, then I’m talking about her. I didn’t realize I had to clarify.” He yanks the trunk open, and his voice takes on a more taunting tone. “Why? You nervous that a girl is actually speaking to you for once?”

Eddie steps back, visibly stung. “Hey, fuck you, man.”

Steve and Eddie’s friendship is not as tenuous as it once was, but sometimes old habits die hard.

Steve softens immediately, face painted with regret. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he mutters, swiping a hand through his hair. He sighs. “I bumped into Nancy at the store yesterday, I’m not in a good mood.”

Eddie nods awkwardly, not really sure how to answer. “I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, um…again.”

“Thank you…for that reminder,” Steve replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns to Eddie with narrowed eyes. “That we dated twice, and then also broke up twice.”

Eddie just smiles and claps him on the back. “I’m here for you, brother.”

From the kitchen window, you can see Steve and Eddie trudging back towards the house fully armed. Steve is holding a wooden baseball bat hammered-through with nails, and Eddie has what appears to be a makeshift spear — really, it’s just a big stick with a knife jerry-rigged on the end.

Robin takes in your open-mouthed shock. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply, dumbfounded, staring. “This is fine.”

The boys reenter. Steve smiles brilliantly at you, face clearing of some previous sourness you don’t know the cause of, and gestures with his bat to yours. “We can upgrade that for you, if you want,” he jokes.

You chuckle uneasily, panic setting in as you stare at the lethal-looking spikes of the nails. “Heh…maybe later.”

Eddie watches you carefully, the way your fingers scrunch nervously into the fabric of your sleep shirt, and the occasional, rapid twist of your head that you can’t seem to control, like you’re desperately trying to clear your mind of something awful. 

Robin glances down at her buzzing phone, Vickie’s name and face popping up on the homescreen for the hundredth time this morning — apparently, she’s now awake and frantic that her clumsy girlfriend may have yet again gotten herself involved in some wild, life-threatening shenanigan.

“Just give me a minute, she’s freaking out,” Robin mumbles, pushing past you and into the living room for privacy.

Steve turns his back to you as he goes to remove the chair from under the knob, and Eddie takes this small opportunity to move closer to you. He wonders if he’d be going too far if he took your trembling hand in his.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs. “We’re not gonna let that thing get at you.”

You manage a nod, overwhelmed. Eddie reaches out and pats your arm but pulls back quickly, like he’s afraid to touch you for too long.  

Steve calls your name, and you turn to him, distracted.

The chair is back in its place at the table, and he gestures to the now-unprotected door. “Is it crowded in there?”

“Very,” you confirm. The untidy chaos in the garage would normally embarrass you, but given the circumstances, you’re a little beyond caring. “Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” he reassures you. “We’ll try and be really careful about your stuff.”

“But no promises,” Eddie adds, a smile touching his lips for the first time.

You try to smile back, still feeling bizarrely distraught. “Just try not to break my windshield, please.”

He laughs softly. “Sounds like a reasonable enough request.”

“Okay, Munson, you ready?”

“Yeah.” Eddie joins him by the door. There hasn’t been any more noise from the garage since you heard it this morning — you don’t know what that bodes for them.

They brace themselves, weapons raised and at the ready. With a flick of his wrist Steve opens the door, which slowly creaks open. Shoulders hunched, he crosses the threshold, and switches the light on. You watch with bated breath, anticipating the sharp cry to be uttered at any moment.

Nothing happens.

Both Steve and Eddie cautiously enter the garage, watching for any signs of life. Steve starts jabbing at the little nooks and crannies amongst your things, trying to poke it out of hiding.

Eddie crouches down on the ground and peers underneath your car. 

“See anything?” you ask hesitantly.

“Not yet,” answers Eddie in a low voice.

Steve peels a dusty tarp off of an old end table, opens up a discarded cabinet. “Come on,” he mutters.

Three agonizing minutes go by as they pick their way through the room, searching under and over and behind every bit of junk, neither boy finding what they’re looking for.

“Maybe it got out,” Steve muses, standing upright, relaxing his grip on the bat, letting it rest casually against his shoulder.

You shift uncertainly, still hovering from your post at the half-open door. “Would that be good or bad?”

“Good for us. Bad for the neighbors,” says Eddie.

Suddenly a streak of dark gray erupts from behind Steve.

You barely have time to yell; Steve, feeling the ripple of wind on the back of his neck, whirls around.

The creature beats its leathery wings and it’s moving up and up until it reaches the ceiling, circling the room, no doubt gauging which angle it should dive at and towards who. 

Instinct tells you to slam the door shut, like you did earlier, but then Eddie and Steve will be trapped. Instead you leave the door ajar, crouched in pathetic terror. The boys recover their stances quickly, muscles tensed, ready to swing and jab their respective weapons the moment it comes within in striking distance. Their faces are twin mirrors of fierce determination.

The creature goes for Steve first, swooping down on him; you’re horrified to see its open mouth is full of concentric rows of spiny teeth. You utter a sharp cry, almost unable to look, certain that he’s about to be mauled by this terrible thing.

And the creature is fast.

But Steve is faster.

There’s a horrible sound, a meaty thwack! as the baseball bat smashes into the monster, sending it careening over your parked car like a gnarly fastball. It hits the wall and slides to the floor.

Eddie wastes no time in slamming one heavy boot down on a tattered wing, pinning the dazed thing into place. With one sharp jab, the knife pierces deep into the creature’s belly. He gives the spear a swift jerk, dragging the knife down, and cleaves the body almost completely in two. Its oily flesh is taut, but fragile; the thin skin surrounding the wound peels back, and it splits open like an over-full garbage bag, glistening, red-black insides seeping out onto the hard concrete floor.

Eddie whistles. “Goodnight.”

Gobsmacked by what just unfolded, you tiptoe into the garage. “Is…is it dead?”

“Yup,” says Eddie, nudging the thing with his foot. “This is kind of a small one,” he calls over to Steve.

Steve’s puffing slightly, shoulders heaving with adrenaline. “I noticed that. Probably not doing too hot out here in the real world.”

You gape at them both, eyes flitting between the two boys. Small?

You creep closer to the pulpy mass, getting your first good look at your uninvited guest. If you were right about one thing earlier, it’s that this is certainly no common house bat; it’s gray and rubbery, made of slick naked flesh, with a long twisted tail like braided rope. Its wings are shot through with six spidery limbs, its small head little more than a gaping maw lined with razors. And despite Eddie and Steve’s comments, to you? This thing seems enormous.

Eddie smiles at you proudly. “And just think — we did it all without breaking your windshield.”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, about that…”

There’s a dent in the passenger-side door of the car. You’re sure if you were to hold Steve’s bat at the right angle against the dinged metal, it would fit in the depression like a glove.

Robin appears seemingly out of nowhere, leaning casually against the doorframe, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. 

“Hey. What’d I miss?”

The cleanup process is quick but dirty. Eddie scrapes up everything he can with a snow shovel of all things, and dumps the carcass unceremoniously into a Hefty bag — the real heavy-duty kind, with the red strings — as it was politely held open by Steve. Meanwhile, you scrub at the blood left behind, but it doesn’t do much. The ominous stain is likely etched into the garage floor forever.

Maybe you can throw a rug over it or something.

Robin yawns as she watches you work. “Can we go get breakfast? I’m starving.”

“I’m down,” says Steve, motioning for you to hand him the scrubber clutched in your hand.

You hand it over, but warn him, “I don’t think this is coming out.” He starts scrubbing anyway.

Eddie pipes up. “Are there any good diners around here?”

You wince. “We just threw an eviscerated monster in the trash. Don’t you need, like, a refractory period to deal with that level of gross?”

He thinks it over for a moment, then smiles and shrugs. “No.”

Laughter bubbles up and spills over your lips uncontrollably. It starts out normal, but then you can’t stop, and then it sort of feels like maybe you’re hyperventilating.

Robin, your soulmate, bless her, is always in tune with your emotions. She reacts quickly, kneeling down beside you on the cold floor, and wraps an arm around you. “Hey,” she says gently. “Relax, just breathe. I know everything you heard and saw today is literally insane, but it’s all okay.”

Robin’s hick hometown. Parallel dimensions. Little girl with superpowers. Monsters. Something about a gate...Monsters. Monsters from said-parallel dimension. Monsters from said-parallel dimension finding their way inside your home. Monsters in your home.

“Jesus,” you gasp in frustration, knuckling stupid tears at the corners of your eyes. “What is this?” 

“It’s a lot to take in, is what it is,” says Steve sympathetically. “But that thing’s dead, and you’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”

“The big bad stuff is already finished,” Eddie adds. You didn’t notice, but he’s crouched down right next to you, mirroring Robin’s position on your other side. “Not to mention,” he nudges you playfully, “you’ve got two pretty damn good exterminators on speed dial now, huh?” He places a hand on your shoulder, and you can feel the warm metal of his rings through your shirt.

You manage a weak mile. “True. That was pretty impressive,” you sniffle. His fingers give a reassuring little squeeze, but — again — is quick to let go.

He glances at Robin and Steve. “You know,” he starts in an accusatory tone, “you guys were definitely not this nice to me when I had to find out about all this shit.”

“We were in a time crunch,” Robin says dismissively. “You had to get with the program.”

The hysteria starts to wane; your body slumps a little under the combined weight of Robin and Eddie’s arms. “I changed my mind.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “About what?”

“…I want breakfast now.”

The ride to the diner gives you a chance to mull over the bizarre nature of the morning’s events. You let your head fall back on the seat and close your eyes; a stranger thing has never happened to you. 

Part of you wonders why Robin never told you all this but you immediately dismiss the thought. Why would she, unless it was absolutely necessary, like today? In addition to being pretty far-fetched, the whole thing also sounds pretty fucking traumatic.

“What do you guys call those things again?” you mumble, turning to Eddie, who’s sitting next to you in the backseat of Robin’s car.

Eddie’s face turns pink when he hears you address him, though you can’t fathom why. “Uh, demobats.” 

“Demobats,” you repeat. “How’d you come up with that?”

Steve pipes up from the passenger seat. “The first monster we saw from the Upside-Down was called a demogorgon. Some nerds named it.”

“Oh,” you say faintly.

“We can talk about something else,” says Robin. She looks at you anxiously in the rearview mirror, suspicious that you’re going to fall apart again. 

“I’m fine, Rob. I’ve made my peace with it.” You pause, and amend. “I’m making my peace with it.”

“Oo-kay.” She drags out the first syllable, letting it be known that she doesn’t really believe you. 

“Are there very many of these things?”

Steve seems to hesitate before he answers. “We don’t think so. Only a dozen or so managed to slip through the gate before it shut, and we think we got most of ‘em when they were still flapping around Hawkins. We found one that nearly crossed over the border into Ohio — we were keeping an eye on the papers — but other than that, this is the furthest out of town we’ve heard of them going.”

You process this, not really sure what to say. There’s not really much you can say. Instead, you turn your head to the window and watch the world race by through the glass, letting it slide past your eyes in a blur of green and blue.

The diner’s parking lot is mostly empty. Work should have already started for most — only a handful of elderly patrons are inside, sipping coffee at the bar and reading the paper. 

The matronly waitress wiping down a table lets you know that the four of you can sit anywhere you like. Robin immediately slides into a booth by the window, well away from the other customers. 

Steve takes the seat across from her, hoping you’ll sit on the bench next to him, but you plop down tiredly next to Robin instead. Eddie takes the last open spot, opposite from you.

A hush falls over the group while you peruse the menu. The waitress comes and takes orders; waters all around, coffee, and juice, a blueberry short stack for Robin, French toast for yourself, a breakfast burrito for Steve, and fried eggs and sausage for Eddie, with a bottle of hot sauce, please and thank you.

Polite chatter resumes, and quickly devolves into familiar banter around mouthfuls of food, though you stay quieter than the rest, thoroughly worn out. Steve and Robin’s camaraderie takes up the bulk of the conversation, anyway, both of them firing back and forth at each other with ease. You decide that you like Steve — he’s clearly grown into a genuinely nice guy, different from the high school boy Robin told you he once was, but it seems he’s retained just the perfect amount of bitchiness. It’s easy to see why she’s so fond of him.

You’re content to watch and listen to them with mild amusement (though Steve periodically directs his comments towards you, subtly watching your reaction to what he says) and it seems that Eddie is, too. You can’t tell if he’s used to being their third wheel or if he’s just being shy because there’s a new person around.

Robin and Steve enter a fierce debate about something or other — the prospective music career of someone named Tammy that you vaguely recall being a former crush of Robin's. You face Eddie and ask in a hushed tone, “Are they always like this?” 

He swallows a bite of gooey, Tabasco-smothered egg. “Pretty much.”

“I wouldn’t have the energy,” you marvel.

Eddie chuckles. He shifts in his seat, and his leg bumps into yours under the table. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, turning pink again.

“That’s okay.” You study his face, which is angled down towards his plate, decidedly away from your gaze. His eyes are big and dark and warm, like sticky-sweet molasses.

“You have very pretty eyes,” you tell him matter-of-factly, just as there’s a lull in Robin and Steve’s argument. In tandem, both of them turn their heads to stare at you.

Surprise flickers across Eddie’s face when he realizes you’re speaking to him. His face warms to an even deeper red, but he looks pleased; and you’re glad for it. 

“Thank you?” It comes out like a question.

“You’re welcome.” You nod and give him a soft smile, which he returns, and for a moment you might as well be the only two people in the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Robin watches the exchange with her head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised in surprise. You return to eating your breakfast, and she casts Steve an apologetic look. Eddie tries to keep his expression neutral, hiding his glee.

You excuse yourself to the restroom. As soon as you’re gone, Robin says, “Sorry, Steve.”

He just sighs in defeat, slumping back against the booth’s cushion. “Whatever.”

Eddie stabs a fork in his direction. “You’re not even over Wheeler yet, anyway. Let me have this.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “You’re still hung up on Nancy? Steve, come on.”

Steve’s mouth drops open. “You’re the one who said we should get back together!” he cries.

Robin’s mouth pulls to the side in mild guilt. “Which was a mistake on my part, I will admit.”

“Just wasn’t meant to be,” Eddie chimes in. 

Steve turns his incredulous look to Eddie. “And don’t even get me started on what you told me about her —”

“I’m the last person you should be taking relationship advice from,” he interrupts nonchalantly. 

Steve gapes at his so-called friends. Robin plows on.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re not over Nance, I’m not letting you near my girl. She’s not gonna be your rebound; she deserves better than that.”

“Yeah,” concurs Eddie, the word garbled around a forkful of food, “like me.”

Steve drops his head onto the table. 

“And stop trying to flirt with her, so I can.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing such a great job at that so far,” says Steve sarcastically, forehead still pressed against the formica.

“I’m gettin’ warmed up! Just give me a second, Christ.”

Steve, though snarky on the outside, is still soft on the inside, and so feels a pang of sympathy — he knows why Eddie’s nervous around girls. One drunken night he, Eddie, and Dustin had been shotgunning cans of shitty beer in the Hendersons’ backyard, and he’d spilled his guts about the abysmal reality of his love life. Not that Steve’s is going much better, obviously. But Eddie had deep-rooted fears that went beyond Steve’s understanding, insecurities that harkened back to his childhood and twisted into trickier and trickier knots the older he got. 

Eddie has his reasons to be nervous.

“Alright,” says Steve, finally yanking his head back up off the table. “I give, she’s all yours. But I’m gonna remind you — and don’t take this the wrong way — that all she’s done so far is give you a single compliment. Don’t get carried away.”

“Too late,” Eddie replies dreamily. “I’m already planning my proposal.”

Robin starts laughing, just as you approach the table again. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Boys,” she replies without hesitation. She takes another sip of coffee. “I’m so glad I’m gay.”

You finish the rest of your breakfast. When the waitress offers to bring the checks around, you’re quick to foot the bill.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” you say among the chorus of protests. “I don’t know what I would have done if you guys hadn’t shown up.”

“Ended up in the Weekly World News,” Eddie teases.

“What a high honor that would have been.” You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll pass.”

Steve drives everyone back to the house, and a wave of sadness washes over you as you all pile into the kitchen once more. The prospect of the boys’ departure fills you with a strange kind of emptiness; it hits you that you really don’t want them to leave. You’re already feeling attached.

You suppose being rescued from a monster is just one of those things that brings people closer together, like a family barbecue, or making a blood oath.

And truth be told, you feel slightly…uneasy. Discombobulated. Though the events of the morning are still fresh in your mind, the steps of your daily routine are drifting hazily back to you through the fog of shock. Normally at this hour, you’d be plugging away at work. You have an explanatory email to write to your boss for missing today, and you imagine Robin will be submitting something similar. A nine-to-five job, running errands, going to happy hour — they all seem so trivial. How are you supposed to go back to all those things as though nothing out of the ordinary happened? Knowing that your best friend used the free time she had between finishing high school and working retail to help save the world from monsters and government conspiracies and God only knows what other crazy shit?

It’s all too surreal. You grip the edge of the kitchen table with one hand, steadying yourself. Easy girl.

You glance around, then choose to settle your gaze on Eddie, soothed by all his dark, warm colors.

Steve checks his watch, sighing. “We should probably head back. I got the afternoon shift today.”

Robin shakes her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe that Family Video is still fucking open.”

Steve ignores this and immediately turns to you instead. “To clarify, I have a real job, too — I was part-time at my company, and now I’m transitioning to full-time.” He’s needlessly defensive. “Managing the video store’s been a nice side gig, but I swear I’m retiring.”

You blink. “You don’t have to defend Family Video to me, Steve. It’s a very respectable establishment.”

“Yeah,” agrees Eddie, “Fuck the government, you’re the real backbone of our society.”

“Fuck off, Munson.”

“Well, this has been a grand old time,” Robin interrupts their bickering, yawning and stretching her arms dramatically. “But I think I need to go home. Smooth things over with the wife before she starts panicking again.” As though suddenly remembering your earlier distress, she turns to you, frowning. “Do you need me to stay with you?”

Not wanting to burden your friend who is being oh-so-chill about the science-fiction film that is literally her life, you immediately lie. “No, I’m okay.”

Her bright blue eyes narrow, not believing you. “I’ll stay,” she says decidedly.

“No, Rob, I think I’m just gonna go to sleep, honestly.” You are tired. Your bones feel weary; you want nothing more than to collapse back into bed and slip into unconsciousness again. “You go ahead and go home.”

You shift your attention towards Steve and Eddie, who are both hanging quietly by the door.

“Again, I can’t thank you guys enough. Really,” you tell them again, stepping forward with arms outstretched. It doesn’t matter that you just met; you need a proper goodbye from both of them. Right away Steve obliges, and wraps his arms around you, patting your back gently before stepping away again.

Eddie hesitates, looking bashful when you turn to him next, and you lower your arms in embarrassment. You don’t want to make him feel like he has to hug you if he doesn’t want to. But before you can feel too stung about it, he steps forward and embraces you tightly.

It’s oddly intimate — his arms are low, circled around your waist, and his cheek presses against your hair. He sighs, a soft exhale that you can’t see or hear but rather, you feel. The creeping sense of loss grows stronger when he releases you again.

“See you soon, I hope.” Steve gives you a final wave, when he’s halfway out of the house. “We should all get together sometime. Y’know, on non-monster related business,” he jokes.

“For sure,” you promise, fluttering your fingers back at him.

“And if you ever need anything,” Eddie’s low voice is suddenly close to your ear, “just let me — us — know. We’ll be here before you know it.”

You let out a small, shuddery breath. “Thank you,” you whisper gratefully, touched by his attentiveness. Eddie seems to be the only other person who understands the gravity of what you’ve seen. Robin and Steve have been in the game too long, perhaps, and although they’re understanding, the remarkability of their Upside Down has worn off. 

Eddie, however, doesn’t appear to have achieved quite the same level of nonchalance that they have, and when he looks at you, his concern is tangible. It’s etched in the set of his frown, practically staring out at you from those big eyes of his. Those big, pretty eyes. 

“See you around,” he says softly. 

And with that, he’s gone.

thank you for reading!!! 🦇💙

taglist: @kores-mun-son-n-more

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #god i hope this pacing is okay? this is the longest fic I’ve ever written #can’t tell if I’ve jammed too much in here or not enough 🤷🏻‍♀️

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ My Grease-Covered Hero

content: leo valdez x daughter of posiedon! reader fic warnings: language and fast pace fr author's note: this is me core at its finest. this is me as a person. wouldn't be caught dead in sweatpants unless i am flying or dying. and i have nothing against people in sweatpants, in fact i am a bit jealous. but some people just never get over winning best dressed as a senior superlative (its me, i'm some people)

can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever? i said I'm 'bout to go to war (uh-huh) and I don't know if i'ma see you again can I get a kiss? (can I?)

leo was woken up by his phone buzzing and ringing out the chorus of ‘see you again’ by tyler, the creator. only one person in his phone had a specialized ringtone, which is why his hands were blindly searching through his sheets to find the little metal box. finally, his fingers managed to grasp the phone and he pulled it up to his ear, yawning against the back of his hand as he slowly sat up in bed.

“hey, mamacita,” he spoke, clearing his throat to lose the morning voice even though he knew she loved it.

“leo, i’m sorry, i know you’ve got late mornings on thursdays but-” the girl heaved into the phone, getting cut off by stuttering breaths and the sniffling of her nose. leo was instantly awake, his brows furrowing at her state.

“y/n, you need to breathe, honey. it’s okay, no ones mad, just talk to me,” leo comforted, picturing tears rolling down her cheeks and her bloodshot eyes which felt like a knife to his heart. he often had to tell y/n that no one was upset with her, a normal assumption she had picked up from her mother and father, the temperamental sea god. he listened as y/n took a few deep breaths through the phone before trying again.

“my car is making a weird noise, i woke up late, the outfit i planned out last night looked so bad this morning that i’m in sweatpants. sweatpants, leo, sweatpants. i have like fifteen minutes to get to my class but i can’t stop crying in the parking lot and- and i hate sweatpants,” y/n moaned into the phone, a new wave of tears brimming her eyes. he could see her, curled up in the driver seat with the phone held in her shaky hands.

“okay, okay, i've got a plan. you go to class, i’ll come by at lunch, check out the car and bring you a change of clothes. how’s that sound, baby?” leo offered, knowing he had nothing going on today. he was enrolled in some fancy block schedule high school, which gave him thursdays off every week. which he was grateful for on a whole new level today, the sound of y/n’s relieved tears sounding like it was straight from the heavens.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” y/n mused into the phone, over exaggerated kissing noises as well. leo laughed, shaking his curls out as he glanced out at the rising sun.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll text when i’m there, okay? enjoy your class, love you,” leo mused into the phone, smiling wider at her laughs.

“okay, hammer head, i’ll see you later. i love you more,” she laughed into the phone, promptly ending the call before leo had time to argue.

he rolled his eyes at her, shooting off a text claiming he loved her most before crawling out of bed. he got dressed quickly, grabbing his tool bag and keys as he left, informing his foster parents of his plans as he scampered out of the door. he pulled up outside of the jackson-blofis household, producing a key that sally had insisted leo take, sick of the climbing through the windows from both him and annabeth. he opened the door, walking in and being met by a surpirsed paul, who held a sandwich in one hand and a baby bottle in the other.

“…hey, leo,” paul prompted, nervously glancing about.

“oh, hey, sir, i’ve just come to get some clothes for y/n. she’s having a rough day,” leo explained, rocking on the balls of his feet. he’s met y/n’s biological father and been less nervous around him. and he's a god that could smite leo for sneezing wrong.

“that would explain the stomping around this morning. poor girl,” replied paul before waving leo off to y/n’s room as estella whined and made grabby hands towards the man.

leo waved to the little girl as he easily made this way through the apartment, swinging y/n’s door open. he walked in, shaking his head at the pile of clothes on her bed, surely from the morning. she usually kept her room painfully organized, which leo had a habit of messing up, not that she cared much. leo dug through the pile for a moment before pulling her pair of flare leggings out, remembering she told him once they went with everything. he grabbed one of her tops, a low neck dark red one that he loved. finally, he made the impromptu decision to grab her makeup bag, knowing she’d want to at least fix her mascara. he shoved it all into a tote bag and began to make his way out of the apartment.

“thanks, sir, i’m off,” leo called and paul called with similar wishes of safe travels.

leo, knowing he still had some time, made a sneaky stop for iced coffee for her before making his way to her college campus. she had texted him her lot and spot earlier. plus, it was a cobalt blue vw beetle, kinda hard to miss. he pulled up next to it, scrolling through his phone to pass the time until he heard her voice approaching.

“oh, don’t even worry about it, katie! i don’t even use my physical copy anymore, the online version is just easier for me,” y/n’s voice mused and leo couldn’t stop the smile that took over his lips as he leapt out of his truck, approaching her car with her tote bag and coffee in hand. she was, in fact, in a pair of sweatpants but leo still thought she was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. and he’d seen the goddess of beauty (who took a striking resemblance to y/n when they’d met but he's sure that's unrelated.)

“there’s my sweet girl,” he spoke, y/n’s eyes instant darting from her classmate to leo, a large smile taking over her face.

“leo!! aww, you didn’t have to get me coffee,” the girl whined, though she quickly stole it from his hands and took a sip while leaning into his side. he rolled his eyes at her words with a smile.

“please, you love coffee more than you love me,” he huffed, winking jokingly over at her friend. leo briefly introduced himself and shook her hand, katie responding similarly but she was clearly shy.

“that could change if you can fix my car,” y/n sang jokingly, tossing him her car keys as she pulled the passenger door open, dropping her stuff off into the seat before reaching into the back and producing some book. leo had popped the hood already, looking around for problems and what not.

“here, katie. keep it for as long as you need. oh, and i already started highlighting before i got the online version, i think to chapter three,” stated y/n, setting the book into the girl’s hands. she looked up at y/n like she’d hung the stars in the sky.

“thank you, y/n, truely,” katie managed to get out, returning the bright smile y/n gave her.

“of course! if you wanna plan a study session for that book, just shoot me a text,” y/n replied, waving the girl off before turning to leo, who was deep inside her car's engine.

“hey, lee? you got my clothes?” she questioned, folding her arms on the car before resting her head against. leo glanced over at her with a smile, reaching into his tool belt for something which he managed to magically produce.

“yeah, i put it in your driver's seat. leggings and that red top,” leo huffed, pulling out a flashlight and somehow going even deeper into the car.

“the one you love?” she asked with a smirk and leo pretended not to hear her as his cheeks began to tint red. y/n laughed before walking away, to assumable change in his car, which had more space. a few minutes later, y/n came bounding up to him as he was no longer leaning into the car. she collided with his side, leo laughing as he wrapped his arm around her but kept his fingers away to avoid getting grease on her.

“better?” he asked and she nodded against his chest, causing the boy to press a kiss to her temple.

“good, because your tits look great,” leo joked with a wink, y/n laughing with a shake of her head.

“i’m not wearing a bra, leo,” she told him, glancing down to see what all the fuss was about.

“i think we should abolish bras then. let's start with yours, i'm your guy if you wanna burn 'em,” continued leo, getting more joy from hearing her little giggles.

“did you fix my car or not, repair boy?” y/n mocked, earning her a playful smack against her hip.

“you know i hate that nickname,” he huffed with a smile, knowing he only liked it out of her pretty lips but shaking his head at the girl, “and yes, i did fix it.”

“awww, my grease-covered hero,” y/n mused, taking his face into her hands, holding him a few inches away from her before pressing their lips together. leo leaned into her lips easily, enjoying the lip gloss that transferred to his lips and the way her hands felt against his cheeks. and even though he hated coffee, he thought it was becoming his new favorite as he could taste it on the girl’s lips.

“you got time to catch lunch?” leo asked as they pulled apart, opening his eyes to see the lovestruck look she was giving him.

“for you? always.”

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

“Love is a rebellious bird that none can tame”

After everything she’s been through, falling in love was the last thing she thought she’d ever achieve. And yet, even though she thought herself completely undeserving of anyone’s feelings, she still yearned for it… Maybe you’ll be the one to grant her wish.

characters: Furina x gn!reader

words: ~6360

warnings: spoilers for the 4.2 Archon Quest and Furina’s Story Quest

a/n: So I thought “let’s write something short for Furina, probably won't take too long”, and here I am now, writing this since thursday and with a total of 12 or so pages...

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

There were many things that had changed in the life of the human once known as Fontaine’s beloved archon after the waters swept through Fontaine, engulfing the entire nation as prophesied and leaving her crying on the same chair she had sat down almost an hour before, still devastated from everything that had happened, only for the water to recede once more, leaving the city destroyed but its residents unharmed…

In those moments, Furina couldn’t imagine any of her past subjects being willing to ever look her in the eyes with anything but scorn again, considering how she had lied to them all for hundreds of years, pretending to be their Archon when she was nothing more than a normal human girl drawing nearer and nearer to unavoidable doom… She couldn’t imagine things to turn better in her personal life at all either, having been sentenced to death in front of everyone not too long ago… and yet here she was, reading through the script passed to her by the director, being asked for her opinion and recommendations the same way as when she was still putting on that horrible masquerade.

“My eyes can’t spot any glaring sins in writing in this dialogue… in other words, it’s good, as expected from someone as talented as you, director”, Furina responded once her eyes finally separated from the sheets of paper, catching herself falling back into those theatrical speech patterns she had grown so accustomed to, her lips curling into a polite smile as the director thanked her before quickly moving on to talk to another person.

It had taken Furina quite some time to return to the world of acting, and even after her appearance in the little Oceanid she tried restraining herself from diving head-first into the show-biz again and while there was barely a week she didn’t receive an invitation for a role for the next up-and-coming show, not even being asked for an interview first, acting played the second fiddle when compared to trying to get some time for herself. For centuries her every move was intensely watched, with the only hours she was truly alone being when she was asleep, so getting some time where she was free to try her hands at things in the comfort of her new home was a nice change of pace… especially since her cooking might have required some more refining.

But while Furina was finally free to live the life she always wanted… there still weren’t that many people she could call her friends. The traveler and their companion always on all sorts of adventures, while she still hesitated to reach out to her past colleagues, doubting if they even still wanted her around in the first place.

“Mhm, how could I forget I was dealing with the greatest of actors in all of Teyvat, just remember to look at the stairs the next time we’re on stage, we don’t want a repeat of last time, don’t we?”, the voice of one of her fellow actors rang out, causing Furina to look at the source of the sound, only to see a small group of her coworkers huddled around each other, joking and teasing around while rehearsing their lines and laughing at all kinds of stories of their past and inside jokes… both things still seemingly far out of reach for herself, at least for now. She didn’t like to admit it, but she felt a bit jealous.

Suddenly feeling out of place, Furina forced her eyes back onto the papers in her head, trying to read through her scenes once again, only to find her mind filled with all kinds of different thoughts.

Which sauce should I be trying today? Bolognese? Alfredo? Something new might be nice… but do I really feel like experimenting today? Maybe I should just go out to eat once in a while. It felt like a lifetime since I last visited that bakery near the city center… oh yeah, they shut down a generation ago.

Before she knew it, she sunk further and further into her thoughts, only to suddenly be startled when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, causing the culprit to follow suit.

“Oh, sorry! I was just trying to tell you that today’s rehearsal was over, but you seemed spaced out, so I thought…”, you apologized after quickly pulling your hand away, a look of slight embarrassment on your face before it quickly disappeared again, replaced by a smile that made her heart stop. For a split-second, Furina was about to refute your claim of her spacing out in public, her mouth still working on her centuries old autopilot, only for her to stop herself before a tone could come out, giving you a silent nod of her head.

But while this had ought to be it with your conversation for the day, Furina’s mouth refused to close, the realization that if she didn’t do anything about it, she was just going to go home, do the same thing she always did, eat the same meal she had… admittedly grown a bit sick off, even though she’d rather walk through hell and back before admitting to that flying companion of the traveler that they may have been somewhat right to judge her cooking skills, and get not a single step closer to finally using the chance at living the human life she had always wanted, instead just wasting her days with no meaningful connections until her time would run out quickly dawning on her. 

And so, before any of her anxieties could stop her words were pouring out of her mouth once again. 

“Do you have some spare time to rehearse our dialogues? I didn’t have the chance to see you in action yet, and I’d like to see if you’re worthy of acting alongside me.”

If it wasn’t for her self-control returning to her body at that exact moment, she would have facepalmed herself with enough force to leave an imprint, the cocky remark at the end a textbook example of the bad habits she still struggled getting rid off.

Surprisingly enough however, you didn’t seem insulted, nor disgusted by someone like her, who could not even do anything but watch in her nation's biggest crises, having the galls to look down on someone else. A grin that stretched from ear to ear finding itself on your face instead, your hand reaching out almost instantly as you offered her a handshake. 

“Sure, Miss Furina, let me show you what I’m made of.”

Before she could think things over however, her hand had already grown a mind of its own, shaking yours as she spouted out another confident boast.

“Are you out of your mind?! What good does it do to anyone if you go and throw your life away in a pointless duel? You could have at least asked me for my opinion before challenging him out of nowhere!”, you snapped, a mixture of anger and desperation seeping through your voice as you took a step towards Furina, leaning slightly forward, only to jerk back when she did the same, almost making your foreheads collide.

“I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission for anything. Challenging him might not have been the right course of action, I admit that, but at least it is an action. You hear the townsfolk weep whenever he and his band of mercenaries march into the townsquare and extort them for all their worth. So I’m not going to apologize for trying to help instead of just watching from the sidelines as you love to do”, before you could manage to say another word, Furina had turned around and stamped away, completely ignoring you calling out her name before you were all one… once again.

“Well, you are quite talented, I have to admit. I can see why you were hired to play alongside me. Although you still have a long way ahead of you if you wish to get as good as me”, Furina spoke half-jokingly, she never doubted your acting skills in the first place, she had heard of how talented you were after all, but given her excuse earlier, that wasn’t exactly something she could admit.

“Thanks Miss Furina, it’s an honor to hear someone like you say that. I hope I’ll be able to improve my acting while working alongside you”, you were quick to respond, putting your hand on your chest before giving her a small bow, leaving the actress stumped by your sudden modesty.

What’s this? Where are the competitive remarks you had been spewing out during the entirety of your private rehearsal? Why are you so… modest now?

Furina’s expression must have done a great job at revealing her inner monologue as you were quick to respond.

“Is something the matter, Miss Furina?”, you asked in the same calm tone, only for her to quickly turn her head away, as she realized she had been staring.

“N-nothing”, Furina responded in a subdued manner, looking out of the window and watching the streets grow less and less populated as the sun started to set, painting the skies in colors that made her want to whip out her camera and snap a picture or two.

As the silence stretched longer however, and the colors faded from the skies, Furina was teleported back into reality when your footsteps echoed through the room, approaching the front door one step at a time, causing her to turn around to face you once again.

“Thanks a lot, Miss Furina. I’ve learned a lot today”, you stated with a small smile, your hand already touching the doorknob when Furina interrupted your exit.

“Let’s go home together, I’m not too fond of the city's alleyways once they get covered in darkness”, she suggested. The phrase “not too fond” being a bit of an understatement considering her run-in with near death all those moons ago. And yet, Furina couldn’t help but feel a bit silly for asking you to accompany her, she was an adult after all, one that didn’t have that much of a chance to live life yet, but one nonetheless. But before she had the chance to open her mouth and spout an excuse you were already holding the door open for her, gesturing her to step out first.

“And we’ve arrived”, Furina announced, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that it took you a few steps to realize she was no longer by your side, quickly turning around and seeing her proudly point at the building in front of you. It was a lot smaller than you expected, considering she was the previous Archon and still widely appreciated as an actor. The burning lights in one of its windows made it pretty clear that her apartment wasn’t the only one in the building. But it was far from shabby. It had a nice exterior, was located near the city center and only a few steps away from some major shops, a nice house all in all.

“What? Left speechless by my abode? You flatter me”, she asked theatrically once the silence grew a bit too long to be considered anything but awkward, her voice hiding the faintest hint of nervousness.

“It’s pretty, I wish I’d have a place from which everything was as quickly reachable as from here”, you responded, a polite smile making its way onto your face as Furina’s head tilted by a bit. 

“Don’t you live somewhere near here?”

A shake of your head was enough to make her eyes widen, but once your response left your mouth, you saw her jaw hit the ground. “I live on the other side of the city, so it’s always a bit of a footmarch to get here.”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to accompany me if I knew you’d have to march all across the city to get home afterwards”, apologies quickly started flooding out of her mouth, obviously feeling bad about her previous request, but when you simply waved her worries off, she grew silent once again.

“It’s no problem. I look forward to our next rehearsal”, you said your goodbyes, only for Furina’s voice to once again stop you in your tracks. 

“Next rehearsal?”

At that exact moment, something in your brain clicked. Today was a one off thing, you had proven your worth as an acting colleague after all, so there was no reason for this to continue. The realization hit like a rock, you had enjoyed it after all, even if you had once again fallen into your old habits of becoming too boastful and competitive once your rehearsal’s started to get into motion.

“Sure, see you tomorrow!”, just as you were starting to think about breaking the silence by apologizing, her voice rang out to snap you out of it, a small smile on her face once you dared to look back up at her.

“Good work as always, Miss Furina. It really felt like I was talking to another person just now”, words of praise left your mouth in place of the line you were actually supposed to say, catching her completely off guard to the point her cheeks started to blush a bit. 

"T-Thanks? Did you forget your line all of a sudden or did the script change?”, she shot back with a tease, hoping it would be enough to serve as a distraction from her face. Instead of making your eyes look away however, your stare grew more intense, to the point she was fearing she might have said something very insensitive.

“I don’t forget my lines, Miss Furina, that’s not something that happens. Scratch that, I don’t forget lines at all, I’m pretty sure I could recite your part from memory at this point”, you shot back with a big grin on your face, your competitive spirit seemingly having been reawakened.

While Furina herself liked to indulge herself in boasting about her skills from time to time, she learned that there came a time when words alone were no longer satisfactory and had to be backed up by actions, so when she heard your remark she didn’t hesitate for even a second to take you up on it, laughter escaping her mouth as she struck a confident pose.

“Heh, well then, bless me with your performance, oh great and mighty one.”

What followed was silence, as you seemed to get lost in thought, your ear-to-ear grin slowly vanishing as your face returned to normal, but once the actress was finally about to offer you a chance out, you started your monologue. One, which while only seeming slightly familiar to her at first, quickly crystallized itself as none other than her character’s from the little oceanid. And while Furina had to admit to herself that you did a pretty good job remembering it, not only knowing what to say, but also when to pause, making it appear as easy as reading it from a script, the way you tried to imitate her voice even if yours was so different from hers made the corners of her lips curl into a smile. Whether it was out of admiration or meant as a parody of her she didn’t know, what she did know however, was that she couldn’t be angry at you even if you were trying to make fun of her, simply finding herself smiling at the thought.

“So you’re either so obsessed with the idea of impressing me that you learned every single one of my lines from heart, or you’re secretly my biggest fan”, Furina joked, only to find you shooting her a smile.

“I couldn’t help it, the little oceanid was just too good for me not to watch it more than once”, you refuted her accusation, finishing the graceful bow you had tried performing before being interrupted by the person in front of you.

“Well, Miss Furina. You’ve heard my rendition of your lines, so make sure to do your homework and read some of mine. Or are you scared you wouldn’t manage it as stunningly as me”, you challenged her before quickly putting on your jacket, opening the door and holding it open until the two of you had stepped outside.

There was no rational reason for her to accept. Taking on extra work when she already had to study enough lines for the play for no other reason than to fuel your urge for competition? That sounded a bit too absurd, even for her. Especially for her.

“Well, let yourself be amazed. Just don’t come crawling to me afterwards begging me to stop humiliating you so thoroughly.”

As Furina silently watched you chop together whatever ingredients she found at home from the dinner table, she couldn’t help but think about how wrong what was supposed to be nothing but another one of your private rehearsals had turned out…

“Bravo! It almost felt like looking into a mirror”, you exclaimed while clapping once Furina had finished reciting your lines perfectly, striking a pose that practically screamed at you to praise her more, a request you were all too willing to indulge her in.

“I’m starting to worry for every actor’s career, considering how you seem to be able to play every role you can get your hands on, Miss Furina”, you continued, only for her face to get happier with each passing word, before eventually raising her hand.

“This should suffice. Do not fret for your career, I’ll make sure to secure you a role alongside me if you ever find your pool of possibilities to suffer from a drought.”

You had a fully prepared response ready, but when you noticed the dark clouds covering the usually colorful sky, you quickly sidelined your current thoughts, choosing to focus on what seemed important.

“It might not be a bad idea to finish for today. It seems like it’s going to rain… and quite a lot at that”, you stated before pointing out of the window, causing Furina’s eyes to wander to where you’d been pointing, only for her to let out a deep groan.

“Rain? Why now? Couldn’t it have rained at night?” She complained to no one in particular, turning around and grabbing her jacket, giving you a small smile as you held the door open once again before speaking up.

“You should head straight home, or else you might not make it before the rain starts.”

“Heh, I’m not made out of sugar. I’ll be fine”, you joked in a confident tone, almost as if challenging the sky to try and wash you away with a flood, ignoring her attempts at playing the voice of reason…

“How’s the rain?”, you asked from the other room, trying your hardest to multitask everything from holding a conversation, walking around the kitchen, peeling some potatoes, cutting a carrot or two and not starting a house fire by accidentally leaving the stove on for a little too long.

“Not great, it seems to have gotten worse”, Furina responded in a meek voice, continuing to stare out of the window, refusing to look in your general direction, too scared of what sort of look she might find on your face.

“Something wrong? You’re unusually quiet”, you asked, only to get a semi-attentive hum as a response. 

If only you had agreed to go home on your own instead of accompanying her, maybe then you wouldn’t have to see the inside of her apartment. Sure, she wasn’t as depressed as she was before rekindling her passion for acting, leaving her home far more often and for different reasons than just to buy macaroni, but that still didn’t mean her home looked too much different from back then. 

With how little time she spent in it during the day, going to your private rehearsing sessions whenever she found the time… which she admittedly did have a lot of, and how tired she was when returning home, only wishing to grab a bowl of pasta and sauce before falling asleep almost instantly, there wasn’t exactly that much time she had for cleaning. But it was fine, she was eventually going to get around to do it, tomorrow maybe, she was tired already after all. Unfortunately for her however, the rain came before “tomorrow” could finally make its appearance. Now forced with the choice of either letting you see this rather pathetic side of her or forcing you to go home in this horrible storm, Furina couldn’t stomach the thought of shutting her door in front of you, and so… this happened.

“Here, it’s a recipe my father always used to make whenever there wasn’t much around. It requires little ingredients and tastes pretty good for how little time it takes”, you stated before setting down a plate in front of her, meeting her glance upwards with a smile you hoped would cheer her up somehow.

“Now that I think about it, you would have loved that old man. He had a lot of stories to tell, enough for him to write a small book about them. Apparently they found some popularity abroad for a few years, it would surprise you how much it netted him. Enough to take us on a small holiday abroad”, you talked to fill the silence, sitting down on the opposite chair from her, digging into your meal almost instantly.

“Was your father an adventurer?”, Furina eventually asked, catching you by surprise as you struggled to gulp down the last bite as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave her waiting for a response. 

“No, a clerk. Quite a boring job, but what his life missed in adventures, his imagination made up for”, you responded before just as quickly continuing, “My mother however was one, quite a passionate one at that. We couldn’t exactly see her too often because of that, but whenever we did, she returned with all kinds of treasures.”

“I’m sorry”, came the words from Furina’s mouth, almost silent enough for you to miss them, confusing you for a split second, but just as you were about to reassure her that it was fine and she had no need to feel bad for asking about your parents, her voice rang through the room once again. “I should have cleaned up, it’s just that I didn’t know you were going to come over today and… things have been a bit difficult.”

Only at that moment did you look around the room, trying to understand what she was talking about, and sure enough, there were quite a few things one could point out as not exactly being tidy, but considering how much worse apartments you had witnessed over the years, it was nothing too bad. No matter how much she talked herself down, Furina still made sure her home had a certain level of tidiness, after all.

“No need to apologize, it’s really not that bad, especially considering you probably weren’t too used to living alone before. If you need help with anything however, just tell me and I’ll lend you a hand. The only thing I’m judging you for are your acting skills after all”, you responded half-jokingly and while it didn’t seem to have too much of an effect at first, you did notice Furina gradually returning to her usual self during the course of your meal.

Eventually however, the storm finally subsided, leaving you free to finally return home. “Thanks a lot for today’s rehearsal and for letting me stay here instead of walking through the rain. Until next time, Furina”, you said your goodbyes only for Furina to quickly step forward and open the door for you, gesturing you to step through the door with a smile once again adorning her lips.

The following weeks brought surprisingly little changes to Furina’s schedule, something that would have usually meant a lot of discontent from her side, considering how she liked to spice things up every now and again, detesting the idea of living through the same cycle day in and day out. And yet, she found herself rather content with it all. And although your private rehearsals still continued outside of your normal one’s, they strayed further and further from their original goal as time went on, both of you starting to simply use it as a convenient excuse to hang out instead of solely using it to rehearse.

And so, after you had managed to rehearse the few remaining lines until you knew them from both heart and memory, the two of you still found yourself with a lot of time left, the sun still far from setting as it illuminated even the least accessible corners of Fontaine. Furina had nearly suggested parting for the day, when you had come up with a different idea, one she found herself easily getting on board with.

“Would you like to go eat somewhere? I feel like I’m starving”, if it hadn’t been for the sound of your stomach rumbling, Furina could have caught herself thinking you were simply too shy to ask her to spend a bit more time together, and while your face was as red as she imagined her own would be when asking you out on a date, it was a safe bet to say you blushing probably had a lot more to do with the previously mentioned reason than with anything romantic.

And here you were now, sitting at a table for two in a cafe she had always wanted to visit but didn’t find the time to, Furina already having placed her order while you still struggled with choosing what you’d like to eat, intensely staring at the menu in your hand while subconsciously making a… rather cute face. It had taken her quite a bit of convincing to make the cafe owner accept money from her, arguing that there was no reason to treat her any differently from the other citizens since she wasn’t their Archon any more, but even then the two of them could only agree on a discount, and yet all the conflicted feelings the undeserved, preferential treatment made her feel, vanished into thin air while she observed you, a small smile making its way onto her face when your eyes widened the moment they skimmed over the parfait section.

“Looks like you made your decision”, she joked as you got startled by the sound of her voice, your face turning red as you avoided eye-contact.

“No, I was just wondering why they were selling parfaits in a cafe like this. I doubt there’s any children visiting this place”, you argued back, only for the blue-haired girl's smile to get ever so slightly bigger.

Oh my, what happened to your usual self? Was all it took for you to get self-conscious to be surrounded by strangers in a public place? If so, she was surprised you could walk onto the stage as easily as you did, never so much as showing the slightest hint of nervousness while acting.

“Excuse me, could I have two parfaits please”, she asked the server passing by, only to receive a nod of acknowledgement before they wrote something down.

“Didn’t you already order something?”, was all you had to ask, the slightest hint of teasing in your voice, only for Furina to give you a small smile in return.

“Just demonstrating how easy it can be to pick something. Did it help?”

When she saw you struggle not to smile at her comment, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself by taking a sip of her drink and before she knew it, you had finally managed to order a drink, only for her second order to arrive merely moments after you had done so. Without saying a word, she slid one of the two desserts over to you before quickly making up an excuse to appease your mind.

“I may have ordered a bit too much for myself, would you mind sharing?”

When you finally finished your act of reluctantly accepting the food and took your first bite, only to throw any semblance of ego out of the window as you practically began melting in front of her the second your spoon made contact with the inside of your mouth. It was then that Furina caught herself shamelessly staring at you, ignoring her own food entirely as her stomach was filled with butterflies at the sight of how happy you were. It was cute, there was no use in calling it anything else anymore, and the thought that you were this happy just because of her filled her with an indescribable feeling. Sure, there had been many times she inspired positive feelings in others, but never before in her entire life was it anyone she considered close, so knowing she could make your days a little brighter with small deeds like these gave her hopes that she wasn’t completely without a purpose in life.

She hadn’t even noticed her mouth slightly opening before your voice had brought her back to reality, instantly causing her to turn away as her face heated up. 

“Do I have something on my face?”, you asked, only for Furina to try her best at playing it off, nervously piecing her response together word for word until she had found something workable, something that allowed the day to continue for a little bit longer before you eventually had to part ways.

As time went on, both of you began to care less and less about the big show on your doorstep, you had spent more time than anyone reciting your lines, learning them until you knew them better than their author, studied your choreography until you were certain you would be able to seamlessly perform your roles even in pitch-black darkness and were instead spending most of your time together doing what you wanted, already having practiced everything there was...

Well, there was one more scene left for the two of you to rehearse. One you two had procrastinated on for weeks. Was it because it was the final scene in the play or because the longer Furina got to know you, the more nervous she became whenever it got closer. You had miraculously avoided having to rehearse it with the others around, Furina bluffing her way out of it by telling the director doing so was just a waste of time, since it only required the two of you and you had practiced it often enough in private for there to be any need. The whole discussion was embarrassing, but far less mentally scarring than it would have been if she hadn’t said anything. 

That being said, today was the last chance to rehearse it, and while neither of you had any problems with anything up until now, you could see her grow more and more tense with every word you spoke.

“I have many regrets in my life, whether one of my many mistakes and shortcomings, or moments in which I stood and watched while I should have acted. I chose to follow you, even though it meant I’d see many of those I treasured the most leave without saying their goodbyes. I fought with you at least as often as I fought by your side, often facing death head on, and still I wear more scars on my heart than on my body”, you spoke with an aura of certainty, one that forced people to listen whether they wanted to or not, your voice was strict as if lecturing someone yet still carried a hint of gratitude, one getting more noticeable once your face softened, “And yet, if I were given the chance to go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t. Because no matter how much misery this path I took led me to, it also allowed me to stay by your side, something I wouldn’t trade for anything this world has to offer.”

“Why?”, Furina asked in a tone that was as soft as it was confused, only for you to smile in response, one, while amused in nature, still shined as radiantly as a stagelight.

“Because I love you.”

Furina was a masterful actress, being able to come up with suitable responses on the go and, with the exception of a few cases, never breaking character. And yet, even though she knew fully well what the script intended for you to do, when you started to slowly lean in, she just couldn’t do it, shutting her eyes in embarrassment as her face turned red enough to match a tomato.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t!”, she practically screamed in your face, only to immediately apologize, feeling herself shrinking as she wished for nothing more than to sink through the floor. And yet, her wish wasn’t granted, and instead she found herself still standing in front of you the next time she opened her eyes, just in a far more pathetic manner than previously.

When Furina looked up at your face however, the shocked look on your face spoke more than a million words, your questions being so clearly on display that they might as well just be written all over your forehead.

“No problem, I’m sure it must be awkward to do this with a friend, even if it’s just for show… Ah, just imagine someone else, like a-... celebrity you had a crush on… or a cardboard cut-out of yourself”, you tried to lift the mood with a small joke, barely managing to raise the corners of your lips yourself when you saw her still worried face.

“I-... never did this before”, Furina murmured out, barely loud enough for it to be intelligible, and yet, you picked up on it, immediately raising your eyebrows.

“Kiss someone for a play?”, you asked, only for the former Archon to shake her head, her face turning a deep red as you saw her struggle to speak.

“Kiss… someone.” It shouldn’t be such a big deal, she spent the last 500 years playing the role of the Archon of Fontaine, never as much as making a single meaningful human connection, so her not having a slither of romantic experience was nothing surprising. Kissing anyone else for a play also wouldn’t have been that difficult, since Furina was sure she’d be able to enter her professional mode and just see it as a normal part of her career, and yet, with you, she found the task almost insurmountable, her heart beating with such ferocity and pace that it was a wonder you couldn’t hear it while she grew so nervous that it became difficult to breathe whenever you said or did anything romantic… even if it was clearly just part of the script. 

“Oh”, was all you managed to say, a downcast expression setting on your face for a split second before it quickly vanished, replaced with an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry I have to be your first, I’m sure you’d want to save it for someone special, but considering we don’t have any rehearsals until the show anymore we have to practice the scene today”, you stated only for worry to once again fill your mind when Furina didn’t seem to react at all, simply having shut her eyes while taking deep breaths, only to suddenly spring in action the moment you opened your mouth to say something once again, pressing her lips against yours with such determination that it took you completely off-guard, before eventually pulling away.

“There’s no one else I’d want to give my first kiss to more than you”, Furina spoke, having summoned enough courage to finally speak again, although her voice was still somewhat shaky. It took you a few moments to finally comprehend what was happening, although by the time you did, she had already started her next sentence.

“I love you. I don’t know for how long, but I know why. I love to make you smile, I love to hear your laugh. I love that you didn’t judge me no matter how arrogant and overly brazen I can be from time to time or no matter what a mess I am outside of acting. Without you my only interactions would either be for work or with the shop owner. I’ve learned and experienced so much these past few months, and I know it wouldn’t have been possible on my own. You confide in me so much, and I wish for nothing more than to finally start doing the same, but I still can’t bring myself to do it when there’s just the smallest possibility of us not seeing each other again once this play is done. So will you please tell me how you feel so I can put either my wishes or fears to rest?”

Now that Furina voiced her feelings, she felt herself deflate like a balloon, all of her summoned courage leaving her body as she started to squirm at how cheesy she sounded, but before she could fall into old habits and start looking for an escape, she was brought back to reality by the feeling of her hands being taken into yours, causing her to look up for a split-second, one long enough for you to give her your answer by placing your lips on her’s.

“Was that enough to get my feelings across, Furina?” The moment the words left your mouth, Furina embraced you in a hug, holding onto you as if her life depended on it before you quickly put your arms around her as well, only for the sound of her sobbing to cause a mixture of worry and confusion to flare up inside of you. Just as you were about to comfort her however, you were interrupted by a giggle, faint at first but growing louder until Furina was laughing to herself in between her tears, her lips curled into a genuine smile as she pulled back and looked you in the eyes, her own slightly puffy.

“We can celebrate later, we still have a scene to practice.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #furina x you #furina #furina x y/n #furina x reader

[seresinsbabe]

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader

Synopsis: You're just trying to enjoy a quiet night at home when a less than sober pilot is dropped off at your doorstep. And he's spilling all his sober thoughts in drunk words.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, fluff, drunk jake. Nothing else I can think of. A/N: This is not my first fic, but it is my first fic on here. If this one doesn't flop there will definitely be more! Otherwise I will just retreat into the reader shadows xD

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“And those…god those eyes…” Hangman slurred slightly, a combination of his Texas upbringing and the whiskey in his system.

“Okay! We fucking get it Seresin!” Rooster groaned out in frustration. Frustration that Jake Seresin didn’t seem to notice in his drunken state even with Bradley’s use of his last name. It was supposed to have been guys' night out and to Jake’s defense it had started that way. Only the more liquor he consumed the more his thoughts were consumed by you. And thus had led to Rooster’s frustration when all Jake could talk about was you.

You were the only woman he’d ever gone after that had turned him down for reasons other than having a man. The only one that hadn’t fallen for his southern drawl and charming smile. Jake wasn’t used to that, but he also wasn’t used to the way it made him want you. Relationships had never been his forte. Sure, he’d had one or two, but mostly in high school and college. Nothing serious since he’d joined the navy. But you? The sweet middle school teacher with your perfect smile, curves in all the right places and sweet voice that could make the devil give up his sinful ways? All Jake Seresin could think about was making you his and only his.

Bradley knew from Phoenix that you were more into Jake than you were willing to let the man know. He knew you’d had your heart broken by one too many military men and that you were damned if you were going to let a silver tongued devil with pretty green eyes break it all over again. Normally Brad would have agreed, he would have supported you in your decision to keep Hangman at an arm's length. At first he had, then it became apparent that Hangman didn’t look at you the way he looked at all the other women. In all the years he’d known the Texan playboy he’d never seen him like this over someone. 

So by the first hour of Jake drunkenly babbling about how perfect you were he formulated a plan.

It was a typical Thursday night for you. Work had been long and you’d already decided that morning that tonight would be a self care night. Which for you included binge watching New Girl with a stuffed crust pizza and a bottle of wine.

You were giggling uncontrollably as you watched Nick and Schmidt argue over a towel when the first thunk came. It was loud and scared both you and your cat that was curled up in your lap. The time on your phone read 10:41, way too late for anyone to be coming over unannounced. You felt your heart rate increase and as another thunk sounded out you stood up, grabbing the baseball bat you kept stashed by your door for emergencies. Holding the bat in your right hand, up high and ready to swing, with your left you reached out and unlocked the door. Only when you opened it did you realize it wasn’t an intruder at all. 

“Jake?” The sandy haired pilot stood at your door and you could smell the whiskey on his breath from here. 

He grinned lazily at you and damn if it didn’t make you swoon just the littlest bit. Why was his drunk ass here, though? You knew it had been guys' night, but never before had any of the guys been dumped at your doorstep while drunk. 

 “Hi sweets,” he lurched forward, losing his stability against your door frame and you reached out, catching him. 

“Jesus! How did you get here?” Your eyes searched outside and you didn’t see his truck, but surely he hadn’t walked here. That would have been one hell of a walk from the Hard Deck to your little bungalow. 

“Cock-a- cock-a-doodle whooo,” you let out a soft giggle at his attempt to crow. You took that as he meant Rooster had been the one to declare you babysitter. You made a mental note to rip Rooster a new one come morning.

Jake stumbled a bit more and you grunted as you tried to keep the man up. He was much larger than you, taller by at least six inches and definitely carried more mass. “Okay, okay,” you huffed as you slung his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s get you into bed.” It was a struggle but eventually you got him to your guest bedroom. You helped him collapse on the bed and then left in search of water and ibuprofen. Lucky for Jake you still had some packets of pedialyte powder in your pantry from the last time Nix needed a GNO. 

When you got back to the room Jake had somehow managed to strip down to his boxers. You were thankful that his eyes were closed because had they not been he definitely would have caught you admiring him. It was like he’d been carved out of marble by Gods. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it was the first time you’d seen him in nothing but boxers in your house. 

“Sweets,” the Texan drawled out, calling for you. He’d always called you that, from the day he met you, it had never really had much of an affect on you before. Hearing it with that drunken tone of desperation made it hit differently. Your feet carried you over to him and before you had time to react he’d reached out, pulling you to him by the oversized t-shirt you had on. 

You let out a surprised squeak as he wrapped his arms around you. The bottle of pedialyte mixture and ibuprofen is still in your hands as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. A familiar heat pools in your cheek and tints them pink. “Jake, come on you’re drunk. You need to drink this and take some medicine.” This was probably the nicest you’d ever talked to Jake. Though every other conversation you’d had revolved around you rejecting him to protect your own heart from his philandering ways. 

Jake harrumphed when he felt you trying to pry yourself out of his arms and just tightened his grip on you. It would be a lie to tell yourself it didn’t feel nice, that you couldn’t get used to being held by him, but Jake wasn’t that kind of guy and you knew that. “Mm want you,” he murmured into your neck.

“Jake, I am not going to hook up with you,” you rolled your eyes so hard he could probably hear it. “Especially not when you’re drunk.” You tried to push yourself out of his arms again, but again his arms tightened around you.

“No sweets, wanna make you mine.” You froze, the pills and water bottle slipping out of your hand. “Wanna be with you, my girl.” He slurred softly into your neck. “So pretty…perfect…be a good mama to our babies.” If you were a cartoon you were sure your heart would burst out of your chest with as hard as it was beating right now. There was no way Jake Seresin was drunkenly telling you he wanted to make a family with you. This had to be just the liquor talking. You wanted to get away, to go have this mini panic attack by yourself, but every time you tried his hold on you just tightened. So you waited it out and once he was in a deep enough sleep you slipped out of his arms. 

With two fingers on each hand you rubbed your temples and paced in your living room. Your mind was spinning so fast that you just had to convince yourself that it was all the liquor. Jake Seresin didn’t date and he definitely didn’t marry women, least of all you. So far you've been able to keep yourself from falling for his charm by telling yourself that all you are to him is another conquest. Another notch on his long belt. What he’d just said had meant nothing and come the morning he’d be back to his despicable self. 

After chugging the rest of the wine in your glass you locked back up. Your self care night had effectively been ruined and it seemed like the best thing to do now was go to bed. Before you settled down in your bed you made sure to send Rooster a not so nice text. To which he just responded with a sequence of mocking emojis.

Jake was still asleep when you woke up the next morning. You just hoped he didn’t sleep the whole day away. It would be much harder to get what he said last night out of your head if he was in your house all day long. Maybe it would be best if you just left to avoid any and all awkward contact. You had some errands to run that day anyway.

“Sweets?” You winced as you heard his voice, thick with sleep in a way that had your stomach flipping. “Not that I’m upset I woke up at your place, but how did I get here?” Finally you turned from where you stood in front of the stove, bacon frying up in a pan. How the hell did he look this good hungover?

“Rooster dropped you off,” you hummed in a slightly irritated tone as you pushed water and pills over to him. “Not sure why I was the one chosen to take care of your drunk ass and listen to you admit fake feelings for me.” You mused, turning back towards the food cooking on the stove. 

You expected Jake to chuckle and make some comment about how his lines hadn’t worked on you yet again, but that one day they would. He was sober now and sober Jake was far different than drunk Jake. 

“Sweets,” there was a tone in his voice. A tone that you couldn’t quite place but it wasn’t his normal arrogant one. “What did I say to you last night?” You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. This was the last kind of conversation you wanted to have. It was one thing for you to decide in your own head that Jake wanted you for nothing more than your body, but it would be an entirely different thing for you to hear it out of his own mouth. It would solidify that you were just a conquest for him, that you were like every other woman he chased.

You shrugged, trying to continue acting like it was really no big deal. “Nothing I took to heart, just told me you wanted to make me your girl and that I’d make a good mama to our babies.” Saying the words out loud made your stomach fill with butterflies. “You were drunk though, I’m sure it was just the whiskey talking.”

A thick silence hung in the air as you plated the food for him. You’d made enough in case he woke up. With as nice as his physique was you weren’t even sure he ate greasy breakfast like this, but you know they always made you feel better after a night out. With as quiet as everything was right now you didn’t have much of an appetite. Again you had expected him to laugh it off but he didn’t. Instead he looked at you with these sweet eyes. Looking both like your brush off of his admittal had hurt him and made him realize he wasn’t trying hard enough. 

Jake swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “It wasn’t the whiskey talking sweets.” Your hand froze mid air, a piece of perfectly cooked bacon between your fingers. 

“Jake you don’t date. You wham, bam, thank you ma’am.” You swallowed just as hard as he had a second ago.

“Those women weren’t you, Y/N.” He used your actual name and you felt your heart skip a beat. Jake never called you by your real name. Hell, he called you sweets so much you sometimes wondered if he had forgotten your actual name. In a few strides he’d moved around to the side of the kitchen island you were on. His hand came up and with his index finger he tilted your head up to look at him. “I don’t remember saying it to you last night, but just know I meant every word.” His tone was so sincere, how could you not believe him? But how could you at the same time?

You turned away from him, trying to settle your mind and your heart at the same time. There was no way this was happening. Thank god you had the day off work, because you would need it to recover from whatever the fuck was happening right now. 

“Hey, look at me sweets,” his hands landed on your hips, turning you to fully face him. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Resistance felt futile at this point, but you were still trying hard to resist. 

“Jake, you can’t be serious?” The aviator cocked an eyebrow at you, coaxing you to continue. “You could have your pick of available women out here and you want me?” 

He started to laugh and you felt sick to your stomach. You knew it was too good to be true, Jake didn’t want you in that way. The notion wasn’t as comforting as you thought it would have been and you wished he would stop laughing at the whole thing. 

Jake finally took notice of the pained look on your face and his laughter was cut short. One of his arms snaked around your waist and the other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Sweets, you don’t see yourself properly and I promise if you give me a chance I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how fuckin’ special you are.” You searched his eyes, looking for any hint that this was all fake. Though, you hadn’t found one yet so you weren’t sure why you thought you’d find one now. 

On its own accord your head started to nod up and down. It took your brain a moment to catch up and by the time it did you knew you couldn’t take it back. Jake looked like it was Christmas morning and he got the bike he’d been begging for all year long. He looked so happy, there was no way you could take this away from him. 

“I’ll give you a chance, but Jake Seresin I swear the second you hurt me even a little it’s over.” You wouldn’t let another pretty boy military man break your heart again. Not after how bad the last one had been.

Jake’s grin only grew and he lifted you up, spinning you around in the kitchen. The action made you giggle and the pilot had to fight to keep himself from getting down on one knee.

“Don’t worry sweets, I got lots of plans for us.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you felt like you could melt right then and there.

#top gun one shot #hangman x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #top gun fluff #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader