[JDVN] Random Headcanons

Patience is the key to success (2)

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Part 1 here.

CW/TW: yandere-manipulative-obsessive-stalker-ethan, fem reader, smut, no p in v, depressed reader(but really), suicidal thoughts

i'm trying to post this quick because I crave attention, whatever its insults, compliments, likes or repost, idc. I want ppl to know i'm existing. i have a big oral test tomorrow and im really bad at speaking before someone (hence why im writing instead) so i just need to know im not totally useless in the society and that im, at the very least, making people enjoy my things. sorry for the rant, i have a big headhache, probably gonna die ✌️😚

the smut is really bad btw but like really but im bad at writing them but i need to to improve (26/06/2023) (5226 words)

"Let's just finish watching the movie now." you say and Ethan doesn't make you repeat as he goes straight to the couch.

You felt much better after that little talk. Ethan did not say much but in his words, there was a lot more. He was planning to be with you a long time. He does not want to ruin things. It made you so happy. Every fiber in you was warm thinking of it. You were at peace.

Ethan was calm after that, albeit moving uncomfortably sometimes. (maybe because of his boner?) He was just as cuddly as when you arrived. His head laid flat on your chest, rising up and down with each one of your breath. Your fingers brush his curl slowly as you hear his breathing slacken. You were giddy thinking about him being at peace with you, too.

His arms were closed tightly around your body, never letting you go. The movie was really advanced by now, the end was coming soon. It probably was something towards 11AM. Usually, you would have gone knock at your friend's house but there was no need now as you already saw her earlier.

When the movie fatefully ended, the credits start to roll but none of you moved an inch. Ethan rubs his cheeks against your chest before sighing happily. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? No, certainly not. He loves horror movie. He wouldn't fall asleep when one is ongoing.

He was cute here. You were delighted to think he trusted you enough to let his guards down and sleep with you. You were his safeplace. And he was yours. Your fingers trail down on his back where you draw small patterns dreamily. You write things, that cross your mind. You simply scratch him. His sudden speaking startle you. Your hand stopping evey movements.

"Are you sleeping far from here, today ? Every movements of his jaw hitting slightly on your chest. 'today' because he knew about your frequent change of home.

Relaxing, you continue to caress his back lovingly.

-No, not really. But I don't sleep there anymore.

The hotel too was starting to worry you. Like the building was shrieking on you. You don't know what was scarier, to be alone or to never be. And now that you found such a warm place, you don't want to leave. Ever.

-Why ?

-Scare me, s'all.

-You can sleep here tonight, if you want.

-Why ? Your decision was already made; you'd sleep here. You knew it the second he offered you to stay the night. But you wanted to see his arguments to convince you.

"Let me be with you." his sentence made a shiver run down your back.

Did that stalker fucked you up so hard you had chill even thinking about them? It was just a damn sentence. Everyone can say it. For god's sake, it's Ethan saying it of all people. Even if he awoke this uneasy feeling back, you couldn't blame him. He didn't know about the sign the criminal had shown you. You didn't tell him that much detail, only saying they had indeed brought creepy signs but omitting what was written on it. And Ethan said it so prettily, too. Yes, of course you'd be with him.

He told you you never slept here before and that you'd be safe anyway since he's here and don't plan on leaving you. So you accepted. It was really early in the day but the both of you were getting sleepy because of the calm and comfort of the situation. He offered you to go to his room which you accepted. After guiding you to there, he tells you he has to go grab something and that he'd be back really quick.

And he did, in fact, came back really quick.

By then, you were already sprawled out on his bed. You had time to see the mess he had scattered everywhere. The carboard, the books, the drawings, some letters, too. And you even found out about his second phone. The lockscreen was a generic one, the one you have by default, as if he just got it recently. But the phone wasn't new, it seems in contrary really old as it was broken at some area.

Ethan arrives in the room with a small plastic blue square packaging, you don't have time to see what it was that he throws it under the bed. You don't pay it too much attention. Playing mindlessly with his other phone in hand, you take off and put back the phone case of it to entertain yourself.

"You got two phones ? you ask even though you kind of knew the answer already.

-Oh, yes. One is for games only, the other is the one I'm really using. Did you went on it ?

-No, don't worry, I won't frisk into your secret criminal life."

He smiles before taking the phone out of your hand. He places it in the drawer of his nightstand. Ethan falls on top of you, taking your breath away for a moment. You laugh and hit his back for him to get away from you and he just laugh heartly before letting himself fall beside you.

He lays down, setting his head on his arm, looking up at you with stars in eyes. Sometimes, he's so pretty it hurt physically to look at him. Starting to get embarrassed by his insistent look, you find something to say.

-Why do you have so much pieces of cardboard anyway ?

-I make placards out of them.

With a fond smile, Ethan stares straight at your eyes. As if waiting for you to say something. You would have ask questions about his 'placards ' if not for the sudden interest he was displaying in you, which, instead, made you change subject without really noticing it. A nervous laugh escaping you.

-Why are you looking at me like that ? Is there an undertone ? Am I supposed to understand something ?"

He shakes his head negatively, displaying a small mischievous smile. He could be such a goblin at times ! Wanting to make him swallow his pride, you lean towards him and kiss his lips. Ethan smiles and moves his lips with yours.

Your arm set down on his waist and soon the kiss get heated. Ethan's body is burning, his breath is too. You don't let each other breath, as soon as you separate from each other, you plunge back in. Physically needing the contact.

You rise on your knee, arching your back to kiss him still laying flat on the bed. Soon, he joins you by rising as well. Both of you on your knees, face to face, eating each other's face. Ethan's hand are mahandling you to sit on his thights. Then, with his surprising strenght, he starts sliding you on them. Your heating pussy rubbing directly on the fabric of his pant. Your hand instinctivly goes to rub the growing tent in his trousers. The area was hot, when you slide your fingers on it, it would budge.

Ethan whimpers, thrusting his hips against yours. You straddle him completly, framing his his body with your legs. You rub his tent against your clit for some frictions. It was aching and growing more desperate by seconds.

"I... I wanna have sex with you." Ethan says softly.

You kiss his cheek, going for his neck. You answer with a meek 'me too' before sucking the skin of his neck. Ethan backs his head, already out of breath. He gives you full access to his body, still rutting desperatly his hips into yours.

But you were growing impatient. You lift your body from him, making him whine at the contact loss, before sliding your fingers behind the elastic of his pants. You slip it down to his knees before you start salivating at the sight of his hard cock already drooling for you.

He didn't have any underwear. That's why you could feel him so close to your core.

Your hand touch his thight, caressing gently his body. Making sure to avoid the area he need you the most. Ethan try to touch himself, tired of your teasing, but you slap his hand away. He whines and looks up at you with teary eyes. Silently begging you to do something. It was impossible for you to resist him.

Your hand grabs his cock in one motion, you could feel it pulse and its warmth propagate in your hand. It was already so so wet because of all his precum, your hand was sliding so easily you could have thought he came multiple times already. Gently, you start to move your hand on all its lenght slowly. The boy props himself on his elbows and look at the scene before him. Ethan sighs happily, eyes closing and head backing. He's in heaven, he thinks. But not entirely, as he looks at you still clothed.

"Want to... Want to finger you..." he pleas.

In front of a boy so desperate, and being incredibly horny, you slide your pant down, making sure your underwear went with it. Ethan lose every one of his braincells when he sees your bare pussy glistening with your love juice. He wanted to lick it bad. That's the only one fanstam he ever had that help him getting off so hard he can't move for a whole minute. He wants to drown himself in your juice. But you have others projects.

You guide his pointer finger to your lips. Ethan starts caressing it and smear your juice everywhere. His lift up another finger and start passing both of them on your lips.

"Here, you have to touch here." you say, pointing to your clit.

You move briefly to bring your genitals closer. You could feel each other's warmth emanating from your core. Seeing him try to touch you was so hot. He was listening to everything you said.

Soon getting the hang of it, he starts circling your clit, applying different pressure on it to see which one were you reacting the most to. Slowly, you quicken your pace on his hard cock. As if to reward him for being such a good boy. He was in a trance, eyes closing and opening. And when they opened, they were staring with a utmost care at your moving breast throught your shirt. Your nipples were hard and were poking through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to it. Understanding his want, you lift your shirt above your collarbone with your free hand. Ethan can't seem to take off his eyes of you. They're probably the first pair of breasts he sees in real life after all.

"Fuck... You're so pretty, love." you speed up on his shaft at his praise. "Fuck, fuck...

-You can touch baby.

-I can?"

He stops all movements to your pussy, your frown but let him discover his needs. It was his first time, you needed to let him have a little fun. His free hand touch one of your breast, massaging it then weighten it in the palm of his hand. He smiles like an idiot, an idiot so cute you let him do what he wants with you. His other, wet, hand pinch lightly your sensitive bud.

Your free hand slap his arm to make him understand he did it too hard. He sends you an apologatic smile.

"They're like stress ball."

Amused by the weird comparison, your chuckle. Still impatient to come, you guide your hand higher on his cock to caress his tip and rub it. His face contorts in pleasure, browns frows and mouth ajar. His forehead fall on your shoulder while his fingers go back down near your entrance. His hips were thrusting into nothing but your hand. Obscene wet noises were resulted. You were hot, terrribly hot but so was he.

Ethan's small puff of breath sends chill in your body. His whimpers couldn't be replaced with anyone else. Your hand was all wet and sticky, as was his. Ethan decides to enter once again two of his digits in you. Your head falls back and you sigh happily at finally scratching that itch in you.

"Curl your fingers, E." you whisper.

He hums and do as told. Curling his fingers in you, he starts to thrust them in and out at a slow pace, adopting the same sensuality you used to jerk him off. You accelerate, your hand no longer lingering on the entire shaft. Sometimes, you'd stop completly to hear him whine. Your thumb caressing his cock's veins.

"Baby please..." he pleas.

Ethan starts kissing sloppily your shoulder, your neck. You, on the other hand, take his hand to guide the thrust of his fingers, angling them correctly for them to touch that spongy spot inside. His fingers were long and thin, that was a part of him you absolutly loved. You always had a thing for pretty hands and his were beautiful.

"What do you want, love? you ask tenderly.

-Tell me you love me..."

You nudge his hair with your nose and he looks up. Staring at his eyes, you see them wet with tears. You kiss him instantly. Playing with his tongue with yours, your hand moving faster and faster. You stop the kiss to tell him you love him and he bites his lips, eyes closing.

His breath is jerky, uneven. You press his palm against your clit, rubbing it while you push his fingers inside you again. You feel a knot tighten. You won't last long.

"Tell me you love me.

-I love you E, you're doing so good.

-Again..."

You said it as many times as he needed to feel better. His hips stuttters, his cock quivers. His words are slurred to each other, resulting in incomprehensible blabbering. You don't lose the rythm, keeping the same pace until he'd eventually come.

-Love you so..." he whines.

His body tense, his breath stops. You can only hear the wet sounds your hand is producing. He doesn't utter a sound until spurts of cum smear on your hand and belly. Feeling at ease, he moans a last time from relief and breath again.

You're not far behind. Ethan being pratically knocked out, you grind on his hand. You close your thighs around it, ensuring it stay inside. Your legs are shaking, wave of hot and cold invade you. You plunge his fingers inside but, to your surprise, Ethan regains control and start pounding into you to get you to your end.

He kisses your neck while you finally come on his fingers, sweaty and disvesheled. You swear one last time when he withdraws his fingers. You stay here for a while, just hugging , breathing and basking in each other's presence.

After some minutes, you decide to go shower together. You end up finally getting a good night of sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.

The next day, Ethan and you had a stupid satisfied smile on your face. Both happy to be here. You kissed and confessed your love to each other all morning until eventually he had to leave for work. Sadly, you had things to do, too. Ethan offered you to stay and sleep here for a few nights because he wanted to stay close to you.

You liked this idea. Of course you liked it, you love Ethan. And to convince you further, he told you his roomate wouldn't mind. So naturally you accepted. You were embarassed at the idea of bothering his roomate but you decided you would just sleep here, and the day, you'd let the apartment free. It was his too, after all. Not only Ethan's. There is no way you'd let someone feel excluded in their own house.

Grabbing your phone, you click on your friend's number. You call her, the ringing echoes three times and no one answer. Somehow begrudgingly, you resume yourself at simply sending a text. Just for you to instantly forgetting your sorrow as she answers. The discussion was quite simple, she was telling you she was at her grandma right now. She was bored and wanted to know how you were doing.

'I'm going back to my dear haunted apartment, probably gonna die. Wish me luck.' you texted. She put a little more time answering this one. It's possible it triggered something in her. After everything she endured. 'nobody will hurt you as long as i'm alive' she said. She simply changed subjects after that. Asking you about the cute guy you told her about in the letters. And so you explained everything. Every time you tried to offer to call her, she'd decline. You were still sad she didn't want to talk to you but you were telling yourself you needed to be patient.

On a happier note, you decided to leave the place to go to your own apartment.

To one point, you should have known better than be too happy about your improving situation. Of course, it was well too soon for you to consider everything better. But you were probably stupid because the fall hit you much harder than you could've prepared yourself for. Oh, the pain you felt when reality had finally caught you. You thought you were going to die when you came back home to simply grab some clothes. (Ethan told you to do so.)

Your door was ajar. But it wasn't your doing. No, of course it wasn't you. Your apartement terrified you, why would you come here more ofthen than needed ? You felt your body freeze but you quickly overcame the feeling. That's it. You needed it to end. This fucking stalker had ruined you. You and your life. You sent a text to Ethan, telling him that if you do not call him after twenty minutes, he needed to call the cops. He didn't answer. He was at work. It was well past eleven by now.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to collapse on the ground, and you with it. Slowly, aware of every sound around you, you push the door. Your livingroom was as messy as you had left it. At one difference, the wall. Every frame you had put up on the walls were thrown away. Most of them on the ground and broken, with shattered glasses everywhere.

Why would the creep empty the walls ? To write on it. Of course they would write on it. You laugh bitterly for yourself. You couldn't see their stupids fucking signs anymore, so they had to improve. To force you to read their creepy obsessive text. You hear the crushing of a broken piece of glass, as if someone had stepped on it. But it wasn't you.

You're on alert. Every one of your senses on crisis. Was your mind playing tricks on you ? It was possible in this hellish house who did nothing but give you nightmares recently. You don't realize how you stopped breathing. Only calming when three long minutes had gone without another sound to be heard.

Nothing is here. You're alone, you think. Everything is good. You'll just grab your stuff and leave. Regaining your breath, you bring your attention back on the wall. Words were written on it in deep crimson red. Is that blood ? No, it can't be. Probably paint to give a creepy look that'll catch your attention. You approach the wall to better understand the message.

'She's not here anymore'

The need to throw up almost won. A dark feeling in your guts was telling you 'she' was your friend. But you didn't know. She responded to you, after all. You talked to her. So she had to be okay. She had to. You put your hand on your belly to soothe that want to vomit. You take big breath before finally leaving the livingroom. You quickly make your way to your room where you meet your bare bed. Where are your sheets ? What the hell ? But you don't want to stay longer so you throw clothes in your bag in a hurry.

The front door slam shut. And you know it's the end.

You already feel the tears drowning your sight. Trying to stay silent, you hide in your closet almost empty with how many times you came here to grab clothes. Your hand clasp against your mouth to avoid doing any noise.

Slow footsteps can be heard in the empty apartment. With your shaky hands, you fail to unlock your phone. Your vision is blurry, you can't touch the correct keys. The worst is that you can't see where the creep is. If they stay silent, they can enter the room you're in without you even noticing. And this idea is horrifying. But on another side, you'd preferred them to kill you by surprise so you don't have to affront them.

Your cries intensify, in your despair, you drop your phone straight on the ground. The footsteps stops abrutly. Three distincts knocks are echoing on the corridor's wall. They are coming toward you. You're fucked. They're coming ! What do you do ? What did you do ? Why is this happening ?

Kneeling like you could in the closed space, you reach your hand to grab your phone. As soon as your finger grazes it, the phone vibrate and your ringtone start playing for the whole building to hear. No, no, no, no, no ! Ethan. Ethan is calling you. You pick up despite everything but as soon as you do so, the call is cut short. Fuck E, why would you do that !

The criminal's footsteps are louder, quicker, heavier. They're running. They're running here ! You hold the closet door shut with your both hands, praying for your life. You only have knives in your kitchen, but it's too late now. If you go out, they'll see you. You realized at that moment that whatever you were doing, you couldn't win. That you never even stood a chance against them.

Everything was illusion.

Nothing was improving, you knew it, in fact. You were lying to yourself, searching comfort in a man that don't even understand the dept of the problem. Of your problem. And your friend ? You don't want to talk about her. You don't want to open your eyes just yet. You just want to live in your nice little lies you made up for yourself. You're nice with them, in fact, you like them. Nobody wanted to help you anyway. They could have saved you, you and her, but nobody listened.

Now, it's too late.

The closet start to shake. Widening your eyes, you realize that the creep had start to punch it with their bare fist. You don't give a fuck about being heard anymore, you're bailing your eyes out. Begging for them to let you go, screaming, yelling, calling for help. Holding the door for dear life as if it was going to save you, because in your head it was. But the door didn't last long.

A hole is quickly created in the door. You thought you'd see someone's face, wether it be a man, a woman, whatever. But you saw a white plastic mask instead.

Ghostface.

Why was a damn Ghostface chasing after you? Was it all a sick joke from the start ? You swear you were seeing his eyes boring into yours through the mask. You swore you already saw them somewhere. Ghostface tilts their face to the side, as if mocking you. They were telling you that you were stuck, that it was the end. You hoped they'd kill you.

You couldn't live like this anymore.

In the hole of the closet, Ghostface pass his gloved hand. The latter lay on your shaky face, on your cheek to be exact. You feel the fabric against your skin and think of biting his fingers off. No, you'll angry him. If he's going to kill you, that it be in the least painful way.

"Ethan, right ? Does he treat you so well you forgot about me?" his changed voice said. A weird and creepy robotic voice, one you knew you'd never forget.

You were moving your head left to right. You didn't know why. Probably to tell you didn't want to die, probably to avoid looking into his eyes. He laughs, sounding like a rumbling.

"Ending things right now would be such a waste."

No ! You thought you were finally free ! Why would he chases you down for so long without acting on it !? His gloved hand retract and the door slowly open in an acute creaking. The man is finally revealed before you. He was wearing the whole outfit, the big black robe and the hood.

"It was fun. I give you a gift to reward you for these beautiful screams."

And the knife.

He had a knife in hand. And it was tinged red. Something in you told you it was her. Suddenly, the red writings on your wall had a different meaning.

"I hope you like it, I worked extra hard for it."

Out of nowhere, Ghostface takes your hand, force it open, and lay in it something before forcing it closed. He laughs deeply. One of his hand pat your head mockingly before moving up.

"See you later." he said, swinging his knife in a playful manner.

You were absolutely paralyzed. You didn't know what happened. You stayed up without moving for whoever say how long. When your legs finally stopped shaking, you decided to look what the killer had gave you. Slowly opening your hand, your knee buckle and you fall to the ground crying silently at the sight of a nip of your friend's hair.

You curled up on yourself before completly laying down on the ground, tightening the hairs in your hand close to your heart. She was not here anymore. You wanted to fucking die.

Ever since, Ethan was forgotten. He had tried to call you so many times you had blocked his number. You spent the rest of the day crying in your hotel's room. You resented him. So hard. He didn't answer, he was the one calling and giving your position to a fucking criminal, to a murderer! And he didn't answer. He didn't help, like everyone else.

One day later, neighbors complained about a smell coming from an apartment. You didn't cry when they found your friend's dead body. You didn't cry when cops came to interrogate you. The caretaker having told them about you. Your eyes contained so much hatred in them when looking at him the cops had to let him leave to get him away from you. You didn't cry telling the cops how many times you went to see them to ask for help, nor how many times did they reject you. You didn't cry when they told you she was dead for at least a week, and that her boyfriend was missing. You had no tears left in you. It had simply ended you.

All your lies, every single one of them, destroyed. But you needed them. Of course you weren't talking to her by text, you never did. And fuck, you don't even want to know who was answering instead of her. It was so obvious how she never wanted to call, how she was never leaving her house. But the eye you saw at the peephole. The fucking eye...

You don't want to think about it.

Ethan tried to talk to you. He went to your hotel and found you. You didn't bother to move this time as you were done with your life. He fell to his knee and started begging and crying for your forgivness. Did you even love him ? Or were you, are you, just lonely ? Unfortunately, you decided to forgot the anger you had against him when you realized he was the only thing you had. Your only support. The only one knowing you were a victim. You spent the days crying in his arms.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay." he reassured you, again.

It was a routine, now. You'd sleep the days away and when you'd wake up, you'd find yourself crying inconsolably. Everything was your fault, you kept repeating in your head. She's fucking dead because of you.

You wanted to end it all but Ethan wanted you alive at every cost. He was brushing your hair, feeding, washing and changing you. You were a lifeless doll. Sometimes, his roomate would come and talk to you. Most of the times, you don't even realize he's talking to you, too lost in your thought to proceed his presence.

"It's okay, everything's okay."

Ethan hugs you firmly. Kissing your hairline. His t-shirt was damped. Your eyes were burning. Every time you closed them, the picture of your friend would come and haunt you, a new nightmare coming. You weren't able to think about something else anymore. But it was your fault. You put her in danger, you got her killed. It was you Ghostface wanted, not her. You got her killed.

"I want to leave..." you whispered in a voice so hoarse, so weak, it didn't sound like yours. His hand goes on the back of your head to pull you towards him.

"No, no my love. It's okay. I'll protect you. You won't be alone anymore." his leg goes over yours and crushes them to prevents you from moving.

Alone.

Have you ever been alone in your life ? No, he was here all along. He was watching you all along. You never were truly alone. He had your adress, your friend's adress, your number and even Ethan's name. No, he's always here. Lurking.

"Just... Stay with me, I'll protect you. Please, don't leave me." he begs.

He looked calm, surprisingly calm being given the situation. But you needed it, in a way. If he doesn't freak out, you don't need to. (you coudn't, even if you wanted to) He probably know what to do. It was too late for you but he could do something. Maybe. His behaviour was slightly comforting. It was dangerous, mostly for him. He probably didn't even know what he was doing, he probably didn't know what he was getting himself into, in fact.

But once, just for once, you wanted to be helped. You wanted someone to listen to your pleas. He was going to die, it was a fact. And yeah, maybe you were selfish, you were condamning him after all.

"I feel like I'm using you. Like I manipulated you. you say, mostly for your own conscience than for his safety.

-Use me, love. I don't care. Manipulate me, whatever. I swore I'd help you. And if I have to risk my life doing it, I'll do it. I love you. You don't know the things I'd do for you.

-Now, you're the one manipulating me...

It was true. He was forcing you to think you had a chance in getting out of this situation when you knew there were none.

-Oh baby, you have no idea how manipulative I can be to obtain what I want.

-If you say so." you whisper, drifting to sleep once again, knowing you'd wake up hours later in the same position, in the same problem and knowing you killed your friend.

---

Hello my friends.. I want to help our people in Gaza through your small donations as they make a big difference in their lives... You are our only hope.. We want to provide clean water and food. My brother Mohammed has a water truck and donates every week to people, but he still needs money to fill it and distribute water and blankets by the time winter comes.. I thank you for your support and generosity towards us.. 🇵🇸❤️🌸

---

Not the shoulder pat in a date 💀

I wouldn't mind holding your hand. I guess.

13 from creativepromptsforwriting's Grumpy Affectionate Dialogue list.

Cloud Strife x reader Fluff

--

"So, how'd it go?" Tifa asks the second you've walked through the door - it hadn't even closed properly behind you yet. Had she been waiting to pounce? "We don't say hello now?" You raise an eyebrow, shrugging off your jacket. You’d been dreading her interrogation - it had been a sleepless night.

"Hello.” She grins. “How'd it go?" She puts her hands down on the counter and leans forward as you approach.

"Fine." You shrug, going to lift up the latch to join her behind the bar, but Tifa is quick – shifting so she’s now leaning on top of it, blocking your entrance.

“You pay me to work here, remember?”

“And do you see any customers? Anyway, this is important. I don’t think you understand how rare it is to go on a date with Cloud Strife. Spill!”

You sigh, sitting down heavily on the stool. Really, you should’ve known that the brunette would be keen to hear every single detail…

You’d started working at Seventh Heaven nearly four months ago now. Before Meteor, you’d worked in Wall Market as a cocktail waitress, doing bar tricks to earn tips off a bunch of Shira employees. It was just by chance you’d been walking by when Tifa had put up the help wanted sign in the window. The two of you had got on immediately and your skills honed behind the bar meant you could really start straightaway. The first time you’d seen Cloud walk in, you were immediately attracted to him - the blue eyes, blonde hair, the muscular, toned arms on display... Who wouldn’t be? He, however, seemed very indifferent to you, though Tifa disagreed. “He’s shy. He likes you - I promise."

It felt odd at first when she deemed herself a matchmaker – Cloud and her shared an apartment, with two kids – Denzel and Marlene – she assured you they were strictly platonic and she’d love to see him without a scowl on his face. Apparently he was always interested when you were working, especially if you were on a closing shift. Now everyone was based in Edge, all sorts frequented the bar. You’d experienced the same in Wall Market and weren’t afraid to cut people off but it was nice to have some sort of muscle around in case anyone became a little out of line. You thought it was Tifa’s doing, as Cloud would always offer up his services on the nights you were responsible for closing, even walking you home afterwards. When you’d thank him, he’d shrug, saying not to think anything of it.

He was chivalrous, you’d reasoned, trying not to get your hopes up there was something more to it, until two nights ago when he’d lingered at the point he’d usually head off when you’d unlocked your front door.

“Wait.” You span round on your heels at the sound of his voice, surprised that he’d gone off routine. “Erm, would you… Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? With me.”

“With you?” You’re stunned.

“Forget I said-“

“No, I’d love to.” You interrupted, worried you’d blown it.

“Okay. Great. Er, I’ll text you.” And Cloud had then strode off into the night before you could say another word.

He’d texted - you assumed he’d got your number off Tifa from her string of texts the next morning - saying he’d pick you up from yours at 7, that he’d got a table at a restaurant nearby. You’d walked past it a few times but never been, and it seemed a popular spot for first dates - intimate, yet not overly fancy. He’d arrived promptly, saying you looked "nice" and that’s where things had gone a little downhill. There was nothing that happened to really distinguish this as a date...

“He didn’t get within three feet of me at any time the walk there, or the walk back. I know he’s quiet, but besides asking me if the food was okay, he didn’t say much at all at dinner. And then, after he’d walked me home, I said I’d had a really nice time, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he was nervous, you know?" Tifa nods. "But then he stepped forward, thanked me and clapped me on the shoulder, before he strode off.” You lay your head down on your arms. “It was a pity date, Tifa.”

“Okay, Cloud’s more hopeless than I thought,” she pats you gently on the head, “but it wasn’t a pity date. He set it all up because he wanted to take you out, I promise.”

“He could’ve swung that big sword of his all around him and not hit me, the distance he was keeping.” You continue talking into your arms, your voice muffled.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No, don’t!" Your head shoots up, “That’ll make me look and feel even more pathetic. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s a wake-up call.”

“You’re not pathetic. He’s just shy. Plus, I bet he’s feeling even worse than you are. He was out before I even woke up this morning.” She pauses, grinning slyly. “I did think that he might’ve stayed the night at yours…”

Your face flushes at that. “What?! No. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” The door opens and the two of you look, you praying it's not Cloud. "Delivery!" A man chirps. "Enough about my dismal love life, okay?" You get to your feet and go to take in the stock.

--

You got home that evening just after 6pm, preparing yourself for a quiet evening and an early night after the sleepless one before. It was surprising when there was a knock at the door an hour or so later – you weren’t expecting anyone. You looked through the eyehole and were nervous to see the tell-tale spikes of blonde hair, a nervous expression across Cloud’s face. Had Tifa spoken to him? Oh, Shiva…

You unlock the door, pulling it open cautiously.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles, a little awkwardly, but it’s sweet too. “Sorry, are you busy? I should’ve texted…”

“No, not at all.” You curse inwardly, you could’ve phrased that differently, sound more aloof. “What brings you here?”

“Uh, yeah…” It’s then you notice he has a hand behind his back. It’s quickly whipped out in front of you, holding a small, handpicked bouquet of pink, white and yellow flowers. “I wanted to give you these.”

“Cloud…” Your eyes widen, taking in the display. They’re the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. “Thank you.” You accept them delicately, worried they might wilt instantly if you’re too rough with them.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Sure. Let me just put these in water. Erm, do you want to come in?” You step back in anticipation.

“No, I’ll wait here.” He folds his arms.

“Oh, okay,” you nod. “I won’t be long.” You let the door swing close behind you, still holding the flowers so delicately. He delivers you hand-picked flowers but doesn’t want to come in? Is he breaking up with you? Can you break up even if you weren’t together in the first place? You grab a glass, filling it with water from the tap and placing the small bouquet in gently, before setting it down in the windowsill. You wonder if you’ll look at them in the same light when you return.

--

Edge, like its predecessor, had never been a pretty city in the desert. In the early evening though, fairy lights donned by the surrounding buildings cast a nice glow about the place and it was quiet as the two of you strolled through. Cloud hadn’t been the most talkative, as usual. Sometimes it looked like he wanted to say something, a comment on the tip of his tongue, but then his mouth would close and he’d nod to whatever nonsense you were spouting to fill the silence. It was at one of those moments when you hadn’t particularly been paying attention to where you were walking, catching your foot on an uneven part of the ground. You brace yourself for the impact and the embarrassment, but a hand grabs your own, yanking you back and upright, another hand on the small of your back – Cloud.

“You okay?” His brow is furrowed in concern. Your heart is thudding at the shock of tripping, or maybe the closeness of you two? It’s hard to tell.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, clumsy,” you know your face is red. “Thanks.” The hand from your back falls away, deeming your balance stable enough but your other hand isn’t released straightaway. You look down at the appendage in question, Cloud’s hand firmly clasped around yours. His eyes follow what you’re looking at and he seems to realise as his cheeks grow flush in the dim light of dusk, letting go abruptly.

“Do you even like me?” The question slips out of your mouth before you can even think what you’re saying. He looks almost startled by the directness of it.

“I thought the date and flowers made that obvious.”

“The flowers, okay, but the date and just now… Like, I know not everyone’s keen on public displays of affection, but you don’t even want to be within arm’s length of me…”

“I wouldn’t mind holding your hand. I guess.” It’s mumbled, his blue eyes directing at the ground.

“What?” You wonder if you misheard.

“I’d quite like to, to be honest. I’m just…” He meets your eyes at this point. “I haven’t really done this before.”

“That’s okay, neither have I.”

He looks sceptical. “That can’t be true.”

“I wasn’t exactly surrounded by gentlemen wanting to sweep me off my feet in Wall Market,” you smile. “Besides, it means we can try and work this stuff out together, if you want.” You hold your hand out, hoping he won’t notice the slight tremor.

To your relief, he takes it, deftly lacing his fingers through your own.

“I’d like that.”

- Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

paul dano isn’t just some white boy of the month to me he’s my friend

Hi I was wondering if you wrote or if you will write a part 2 to neighbour Ellie x reader, cause I would love to see how their relationship will progress and maybe there can be a bit of jealous Ellie and insecure reader, in like maybe they meet their exes or something like that

neighbor!ellie x sunshine!fem reader, hurt + comfort / fluff / smut MDNI!! or we’re beefing!! / established relationship, wc: 5.2k

synopsis: things between you and ellie seem to be going great! that is until you pay her a visit at work to drop off lunch and find that the threads that tie her and an overfriendly coworker tangle too much for your liking.

content warnings: language, slightly mean!ellie makes a return, reader isn’t necessarily insecure, but a little unsure of the circumstances, 18 + content / filthy make-up sex that consists of: brief shower-sex, scissoring, fingering / oral (reader & ellie!receiving), thigh-riding, so much kissing and mushy feelings.

author’s note: in love with this idea ! been mulling over how to expand on their relationship & i feel like this is a great segue ! hcs below; leave some more scenarios for existing couples (emt!abby, collegebff!ellie or others) and i’ll answer them ! (also not proofread well like usual lmao)

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

jealous!ellie & jealous!reader are SO different, but i feel like the outcome would be so…YUM.

feel like you’d be more reserved about being jealous.

like lately, it seems like things between you and ellie seem like they can’t get any better.

the two of you spend so much time together, whether it’s having picnics in the park with some pastries you make, testing out recipes after close at your cafe or having sleepovers at one or the other’s apartment.

ellie’s lowkey obsessed with you and at times it makes you blush because after the initial stages of feeling your relationship out, you find that ellie’s extremely vocal and outright with her affection for you.

and for the longest time, you don’t question it. don’t really say much because ellie’s particularly good at reassuring you even if you don’t ask.

it’s why you think you’re overreacting when you decide to surprise her and bring her lunch on a random afternoon in the middle of the week.

the top half of her coveralls hangs around her hips, dirtied white tank exposing tanned, inked flesh and lean muscle when you enter the lobby.

she’s leaning against one of the tool carts with her arms crossed over her chest, gaze unwavering.

when you trace her eyeline, you realize there’s another girl nearby bent under the hood of a shiny red car.

she says something imperceptible and suddenly ellie’s throwing her head back with a laugh, sound muffled by the sliding plexiglass.

“hey, receptionist is on break, can i help you with something?” a mechanic is poking his head into the lobby from an adjoining office.

“uh, i’m here for ellie?” the mechanic’s glancing through the glass into the main garage before standing from his rolling chair to dust his hands on his coveralls.

“yeah, she’s supposed to be watching the front,” he laughs. “too busy flirting with her lil girlfriend to pay attention.”

he doesn’t notice the way your face falls or how you almost drop the little canvas bag altogether.

you chance another glance at the two, find that the girl has emerged from under the hood and you swallow hard because god, she’s so fucking pretty.

doesn’t help that seeing her and ellie side-by-side makes you wonder if the two of you look that good together.

they look like they were made for each other and they even share similar interests! you don’t know a damned thing about cars and ellie’s gaze nearly glazes over every time you’re talking about your recipes and coffee pairings.

“uh, actually,” you stop him. “i don’t think she was expecting me, so i’ll just drop this off.”

he pauses.

“you sure? i can get her real quick, she’s not busy.”

ellie still hasn’t clocked you, so you shake your head.

“it’s fine,” you assure him. “i’ll talk to her later.”

he merely shrugs, meets you halfway for the canvas bag, and you’re quickly ducking out of the garage.

“babe?”

ellie’s right on the dot, you realize, when you hear her through the cracked sliding door to the balcony.

you’ve just finished watering your plants and now you’re jotting down a quick brainstorm for the upcoming spring launch.

through the window, you see ellie kicking her shoes off at the entrance before assessing her surroundings and poking her head into your bedroom for good measure.

“babe?” she calls out.

you stand, tucking the little notebook under your arm before sliding back inside.

she seems to light up when she sees you, crossing the living room to meet you halfway.

“hey, els.”

you’re letting her engulf you in a hug, arms wrapping around your waist as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“missed you today,” she hums, rocking your weight from side to side.

“missed you too,” you say gently.

ellie’s pulling away a short distance, finger bumping under your chin so you’ll look up at her.

“why didn’t you say hi when you stopped in today?” she nearly pouts. “zack came in when we were slow and said that someone dropped something off for me.”

you shrug, unable to tell her that insecurity was rearing its ugly head and you didn’t know how to deal with it in that moment.

“my girl didn’t wanna eat with me?”

“sorry,” you mumble, burning up under the heat of her gaze. “i couldn’t stay long.”

her brows are furrowing, hands coming up to smooth your hair from your face and brush over your shoulders.

“everything okay, babe?”

you nod once, then twice.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

ellie’s watching you closely, fingers cupping your neck.

“talk to me,” she encourages softly. “did something happen?”

you swallow, shake your head, and put on your most convincing smile before leaning up to give her a peck on the lips.

“m’okay,” you tell her.

she doesn’t look convinced, but she also doesn’t wanna pry.

changes the subject instead.

“so does this mean, you’ll swing by and actually hang out with me soon?” she asks, body relaxing when you start smoothing over the wrinkles in her coveralls as a distraction.

you nod, smile widening when she starts peppering kisses all over your face.

for a little bit, you forget about ellie’s coworker and you forget about the comment that zack made, but then you’re popping in again almost two weeks later.

they’re shoulder to shoulder in the body shop, looking at something under the hood of a silver pick up truck. ellie’s engrossed, but the girl’s fullblown staring, paying no mind to whatever ellie’s explaining in the engine bed.

makes you sick to your stomach thinking that if ellie so much as chances a glance, their noses could brush.

“hey receptionist is— oh.”

it’s zack, the same mechanic from last time.

he’s wiping his hands on an old towel as he emerges from one of the bays.

“ellie!” he shouts past the propped open door.

she nearly jumps out of her skin, parting from her coworker as she throws a cross look over her shoulder.

“your girl’s here,” he announces.

ellie’s straightening up, craning her neck even more before her face splits into a bright smile.

she’s abandoning the girl by the truck, jogging across the body shop to duck into the lobby.

“hi, angel.”

your cheeks warm when she slides her arm around your waist to pull you into her.

“gonna go on lunch break, don’t wait up,” she calls & you’re sparing the girl near the truck a glance.

her name’s emma if the stitching on the right breast of her coveralls is anything to go by.

she makes a show of taking you in from head to toe before her gaze cuts to zack and they seemingly share a wordless exchange.

oh.

you have no clue what to make of that, but ellie’s steering you from the lobby and out into the crisp air.

it’s still a little chilly outside, but you’re wearing one of ellie’s favorite sweatshirts and she’s shrugging on a hoodie hanging from a coatrack by the door.

“my truck?” she offers when a chill rips down your spine.

you only hum.

when the two of you are settled, her in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s, she’s taking the little bag with lunch containers and setting it on her dash before pulling you towards her to eliminate every inch of space between the two of you.

“whaddya doing?” you sigh out a laugh.

“i missed you,” ellie says simply.

“ellie, you slept over last night,” you squeak out a breathy laugh when her ice cold hands slide under the warmth of the red fleece. “we saw each other this morning.”

“so?” she replies petulantly. “wanna be with you all the time.”

you’re wearing a turtleneck underneath the sweatshirt so she’s nosing along your jaw before pressing a few soft kisses there.

“you’re so clingy recently, els,” you giggle, arms winding around her neck.

“duh.” and your belly flips when she doesn’t even deny it. “you’re so fucking cute and i just wanna keep you in my pocket all the time.”

that earns her a full-hearted laugh and you really begin to wonder why you let that girl with her stupidly perfect blown out hair and stupidly rounded ass and the most stupidly pretty face ever make you question your ellie.

you live in bliss for the duration of her forty-five minute break where she does a whole lot of eating, but not necessarily the food you made for her.

the windows are equal parts fogged and frosted by the time she’s done with you and you’re shimmying your jeans back up in the back seat of her truck as she shrugging the top half of her discard coveralls and her hoodie back on again.

“you didn’t even touch to food i made you,” you whine.

“i’ll eat it on my ten,” she assures you, and your toes curl when she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“liked what i had for lunch better,” she says so casually, your cheeks are on fire.

“ellie!”

“definitely need dessert when i get home,” she insinuates, leaning her weight over your blissed out body.

she plants a kiss on your mouth before climbing back into the front seat.

but, in the lobby, when she’s bidding you a farewell with another peck on the lips, promising she’ll try to come home early, you notice emma’s eyes again. they’re searing, laced with obvious annoyance.

ellie’s returning to her duties and you’re ducking into their restroom for a moment to splash your face with cool water.

ellie’s never given you a reason to doubt her, has been a perfect girlfriend since the beginning, but you can’t help yourself.

especially not when you’re ducking out and you hear it.

“so i’m not the only one surprised that her girl looks like that?” you think it’s zack, but you can’t be so sure.

“i dunno, she’s hot, but they don’t really match,” another voice sounds. “especially since her last…thing was with emma.”

and, wow, fuck, you hadn’t been expecting that.

“damn, i forgot about that,” maybe zack says. “it was at the party mel and them threw, right? when they fucked?”

you’d wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. maybe they’d been a thing once upon a time, kissed on occasion, but hearing it put so crassly makes you feel like you’re gonna throw up.

the bell’s tinkling hard against the glass when you throw the door open.

and perhaps the situation with finding out about ellie and emma goes hand-in-hand with the way ellie experiences her jealousy.

maybe the fact that ellie still works closely with a previous situationship and is obviously on friendly terms with makes you withdraw a little.

you’re spending a lot more time at your cafe, readying for spring launch and brainstorming new recipes.

you don’t want to bore ellie, especially when you’ve been so in your head about everything lately, so you’re putting in more hours, coming home late at night.

truthfully, ellie’s devastated because she misses her girl :/ why are you always so busy suddenly?

so when a familiar face comes poking into the cafe a few weeks down the line, your eyes are as wide as saucers.

“wow, alex, is that you?”

she’s an ex who’d moved abroad for work a few years back. and the break up had been amicable enough, but she’d moved on and so had you.

the only contact the two of you keep is the occasional comment on social media and a text or two during the holidays.

she’s grinning ear-to-ear.

“what are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, setting the rag down on the bartop to round the counter.

you’d been in the middle of prepping to close up shop when the bells chimed against the glass.

“visiting my parents for a few weeks,” she answers. “thought i’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”

“great, i’m doing great,” you assure her with a warm smile. “what about you? how’s germany?”

“definitely miss the food here sometimes, but you know,” she shrugs and you’re letting out a laugh. “and...julia’s pregnant.”

and your brows are shooting up, arms wrapping around her middle.

“alex, that’s so exciting!” you cheer. “congratulations.”

her cheeks are red when you pull away.

“yeah,” she says softly, eyes gentle. “i’m so excited.”

and you’re glad to hear that things are working out for her, that she’s established herself well and she’s building the family she’s always dreamed of.

“and you?” she asks.

“what about me?”

“are you seeing anyone?”

it’s your turn to warm, fidgeting under her expectant gaze.

“i am,” you confirm.

her smile widens

“that’s great,” she says genuinely. “i’m glad. i hope they make you happy.”

and it really makes you draw into yourself for a moment because ellie does. she makes you so fucking happy, you don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes.

“yeah,” you hum. “she’s great.”

the two of you end up catching up a little as you close, and she even takes you up on your offer of visiting again for a tasting before she leaves!

and this is most likely what sends ellie over the edge.

at first she didn’t know why you were suddenly so distant, knew you were dedicated, but didn’t know why you were so invested as of late.

recently, it’s been her popping into your apartment, but being disappointed to find that you’re not even home.

and the days that she does catch you, you’re pecking her on the lips and rushing out the door.

makes ellie question if there’s something she should be paying closer attention to.

honestly, she’s just really worried that she did something wrong, so as she’s trekking up the sidewalk to approach your little cafe with a bundle of cute flowers around 10 in the evening, she’s feeling a weird sense of deja vu.

finds that the open sign has been flipped and that the lights are dim, but nearly trips over her steps when she peers inside and sees you behind the counter.

you’re not alone, a tall figure leaned up against the bartop, obviously deeply interested in whatever you’re animatedly talking about.

you’re still wearing your apron, hair falling from its hold and a lump is lodging its way into ellie’s throat.

tugs gently on the handle to see that it’s locked and the motion catches both you and your company’s attention.

god, whoever you’re with is an absolute stunner and ellie’s swallowing hard as you round the counter and flit through the tables to come let her in.

“els, what are you doing here?” you ask, smiling softly.

barely registers what you’re saying because the girl you’re with has straightened and there’s something so put together and elegant about the brunette that makes a pang of insecurity begin to coil in ellie’s stomach.

“wanted to see you,” she says simply.

“oh,” you reply. “we were just finishing up here, i would’ve been home in like an hour.”

and that leaves such a sour taste in her mouth because a lot can happen in an hour, in forty-five minutes even.

“great, i’ll walk you home,” ellie says, tone pinched.

your brows furrow and you’re opening your mouth to ask ellie if everything’s fine, but alex is placing a casual hand on your shoulder to remind you she’s there and ellie can’t help but zero in on the way her slender fingers curl.

“alex,” she introduces, offering her other hand.

“ellie,” your girlfriend bites back, glancing at alex’s outstretched palm before glancing back up at her.

there’s a twinkle of knowing in alex’s eye as she nods thoughtfully.

“heard a lot about you,” she says simply.

ellie merely hums.

and god, you’re mortified because you’d spent the entire night raving about ellie even though alex was supposed to be giving you feedback on launch ideas.

you’d told her how kind and great ellie was. instead, here she is, ice cold and glaring.

“well...” alex turns her attention to you. “i really appreciate tonight, everything was phenomenal.”

you preen under the praise and ellie’s rolling her eyes, fist tightening around the stems of the flowers.

“of course, anytime,” you assure her. “thank you for visiting me again.”

and seeing the two of you side-by-side, ellie feels so small. because you’ve always been so pretty, so out of her league and the two of you look like a match made in heaven.

“always,” alex replies, and ever the instigator, she adds, “text me when you get home?”

“i will,” you tell her, brushing past ellie to lock her out. “goodnight, alex, be safe!”

she says something in return that evades ellie’s hearing, but she’s far too livid to even tune in.

you’ve barely locked the door behind her when ellie’s voice cuts through the tense air.

“who the fuck was that?” she asks sharply.

you turn on your heel, brows dipping because ellie’s rarely let her anger get the best of her.

“ellie, what are—”

“i asked you a question,” she says firmly.

you roll your lips, gaze downcast because such a good moment has been obliterated by ellie’s fiery temper.

“we dated a few years ago,” you answer honestly. “she was back in town for the next few weeks and i wanted to do something nice.”

ellie lets out a humorless laugh.

“so i’ve been worried sick for weeks because you wanna ghost me when you’ve really been parading around with your ex?” ellie huffs.

and okay, wow, you hadn’t really expected that from her because your ellie is usually relatively level-headed.

“this is only the second time i’ve seen her, ellie,” you argue. “we were friends way before we even dated and it was a clean break up. we were just catching up.”

ellie’s tossing the bouquet of flowers, now crushed by her unrelenting fist, onto the nearest table top.

“just catching up, huh?” she mocks. “so a romantic set up, just the two of you, is just catching up? you said not to wait up for you because you’d be caught up with work. good to know that screwing your ex is—”

“this is work,” you bite back. “i’ve been trying to get my bearings for this upcoming launch and she was kind enough to put up with all my crazy ideas and all my rambling,” then quietly, “given ninety percent of it was about you.”

“what, you couldn’t ask me?” ellie huffs. “you know i’d help you if you wanted me to!”

“i didn’t ask because i know all this shit bores you,” you say weakly. “alex was just being nice.”

that shuts ellie up, douses her anger like a bucket of ice cold water on a fire. and now she feels like a piece of shit because she hadn’t known that you felt that way.

“and she’s engaged,” you add, pulling away from her when she takes a step towards you. instead you busy yourself with gathering your spread and all the silverware. “they’re expecting a child.”

and fuck, ellie wishes she’d slowed down. wishes that she hadn’t talked out of her ass.

“i didn't—”

“you’re one to talk, ellie,” you add coldly. “you work in close proximity with a girl you used to fuck regularly. you’re still friends with her, and it’s obvious to every single soul imaginable that i’m just an obstacle to her and that she’s still interested. but i didn’t say anything even if it fucking ate away at me because i know you. you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us.”

that knocks that wind from ellie’s lungs because she hadn’t realized that you knew. just wanted to sweep it under the rug because her and emma were never serious and she didn’t want you worrying.

“wait, angel, i’m sorry,” ellie says. “i—”

you shake your head.

“whatever, ellie,” you whisper. “i have to close up.”

“c’mon, babe, don’t—”

“i don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” you cut her off. “i’ll be home soon, but i wanna be alone right now.”

when you get home and see ellie’s sneakers by the door, you take in a deep breath and try to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, but instead, you’re met with the smell of your favorite take out and a soft murmur from your vinyl player in the living room.

when you make it to the end of the corridor to peer into the kitchen, you see ellie taking down a few plates.

she’s glancing over her shoulder, body seemingly relaxing when she finds you standing in the archway of the kitchen.

“hey,” she greets softly, and you belatedly realize that her voice is hoarse.

“hi,” you reply.

“wanna eat first?” she asks you, but you don’t answer, too busy analyzing her.

you put two and two together; figure that she’s been crying if the red bags under her eyes and the dying flush on her cheeks is anything to go by.

she takes a step towards you and you seem to snap out of it.

“wanna shower first,” you tell her.

you hear her gulp.

“okay,” she says.

and you hate this. you hate being upset and you hate that she’s upset and knowing that ellie cried makes you wanna cry, so you’re taking a step towards her.

she’s glancing at you.

“shower with me?” you offer timidly.

ellie’s pushing off the counter, nodding eagerly.

and truthfully, ellie had every intention of keeping her hands to herself, but then you were asking her to help work the soap down your back.

then you were turning to face her to rinse under the stream of the showerhead. the sudsy water’s making its way down the column of your throat and the curves of your body and ellie’s tongue is so dry, she feels like it could crack in her mouth.

her hands settle on the narrow of your waist, right over the swell of your hips as she presses open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.

“i’m so sorry, angel,” she whispers, hands sliding to rest against the small of your back.

you give in even though you’re still in your head, arms looping around her neck as she brushes your hair to one side and starts paying a lot more attention to the spot right behind your ear.

“s’okay, els,” you assure her softly. “i’m sorry, too. i was being a brat.”

your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, breath hitching when she grabs a palmful of your ass and breaks away from your neck to catch your lips between her own.

“you don’t know how much i love you,” she murmurs between kisses, sighing brokenly when the plush of your tits presses against her sensitive nipples.

you moan when one of her hands slides down your front and gently brushes over your clit.

“ellie,” you whimper.

“let me show you?”

your head is lolling back when the pads of her calloused fingers circle your entrance to gather the slick that’s accumulating there.

you nod.

“yeah, yeah, ellie, please,” you choke.

she’s reaching behind you to turn the shower off, ducking outside of the tiled space to grab your towel.

and she’s slow, meticulous as she dries you off, mouth watering when the cool air of the bathroom makes gooseflesh ripple over your smooth skin.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” ellie whispers, standing behind you in the mirror. “so fucking perfect and all mine.”

your eyelids are drooping shut as she discards the towel, hands wandering as her teeth sink into your neck.

“oh, fuuu—”

ellie’s jostling you back into your bedroom. when she’s about to push you back against the mattress, you’re spinning so that she’s falling against the unmade duvet, taking you with her.

and ellie’s gaze is glazing over when you spread her legs to reveal a pussy slick with need and a clit so swollen, it makes you salivate.

“what are you doing?” she whispers, fingertips denting the fat of your thighs.

“wanna ride you, els,” you whimper, climbing to straddle her heat. “wanna take care of you.”

one of her legs stretches to settle over your shoulder and you’re kissing her calf as your clits bump.

“fuck,” ellie chokes when you start rolling your hips. “fuck, wait, angel, just—”

the slip is delicious, obscene sound of your combined arousal echoing through the room to mingle with ellie’s throaty moans.

ellie’s used to watching you ride her strap, used to fucking you and giving you everything because it’s one of the things that makes her the happiest, but, fuck, she could get used to this.

“you gonna cream all over my pussy, ellie?” you whine, pace relentless as you ride her.

she lets out a breathy laugh.

“you feel how wet i am?” ellie gasps, thumb coming to nestle between your heat. the friction feels so fucking good against your clit, has you throwing your head back as you fuck her. “god, you’re fucking delusional if you think i’m not a hundred and ten percent obsessed with you.”

“oh fuck, ellie, your pussy feels s’good,” you whine, eyes watering when her other hand settles on your hip to guide you.

“does it, angel?” she moans breathily. “only you can get me like this.”

“you’re so wet, els,” you marvel. “your cunt’s so soft and so...so—”

“it’s all yours,” she whispers shakily, hips jerking because she’s close. “all yours, angel.”

and she’s crying out when you slip off of her, hands grabbing for you desperately.

she’s throwing her head back against your pillows when your lips latch onto her clit.

“oh, shit,” she moans. “wait, wait.”

but you don’t wait, in fact, your ministrations quicken, tongue lapping at the slick that gushes from ellie’s cunt.

“fuck, angel, i’m gonna—”

the broken moan that leaves ellie’s lithe body has you clenching your thighs. and you think she’s gonna cum, but her palm is firm against your forehead to push you away gently.

her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head when a string of spit webs from your chin to her clit.

“m’not cumming before you do,” she swallows. “this was supposed to be about you.”

“it is,” you assure her. “all i care about right now is making you cum.”

“jesus, you’re actually something else,” ellie sighs shakily, combing a tattooed hand through her damp locks.

you’re making a move to close in on her pussy again, but she’s pushing you onto your back, settling her achey cunt over your thigh as she circles both of your wrists in one hand.

“let me take care of you and you can do whatever you want with me for the rest of the night,” ellie promises, sloppy kiss turning into her licking into your mouth.

her fingers waste no time finding your folds, pads eager against your bud before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.

“how could you think i’d want any other pussy other than yours, angel?” she whispers against your mouth as she stuffs you knuckles deep. “this is all mine, you hear me? all fuckin’ mine.”

you nod, squirming against where she’s still got you confined with a bruising grip around your wrists.

“s’all yours, els,” you whimper.

“just like this pussy’s all yours,” she husks, hips rolling over the swell of your thigh. “would never fucking dream of giving myself to anyone but you.”

and god, ellie knows all the right things to say to have you winding tight.

you’re arching into her, jaw slack and eyes crossing as she hits that spot inside you that has you feeling fucking boneless.

“c’mon, angel,” she encourages you. “just once all over my fingers, then you can do whatever you want to me.”

the squelch has ellie’s thighs shaking as she rolls her hips, knuckles curling hard inside the warm heat of your needy pussy.

“don’t stop, els,” you beg her. “i’m gonna—”

she’s freeing your wrists, climbing from your thigh to settle on her knees at the end of the bed.

“wait, els, i’m gonna—”

and the moan that leaves you can be heard by the entire apartment block, no doubt, because ellie’s sucking your clit past her lips and eating you out like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.

the shit she’s murmuring against your folds is filthy, has you trying to squeeze your knees together because ellie’s that good.

“ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” you cry out when she adds a third finger.

it’s all it takes because a few moments later, your back’s arching all the way off the bed, thighs vibrating as she continues to toy with you through your orgasm.

“that’s it, angel,” ellie whispers. “ride it out.”

your chest heaves through the final waves, a sheen of sweat making your dewy skin look like it’s glistening under the lowlight of your bedside lamp.

“you did so fuckin’ good for me,” ellie says gently, standing naked between your parted legs as your arm drapes over your eyes in embarrassment.

“stop hiding,” she scolds, climbing to straddle you.

her hands are wandering, smoothing over every available expanse of skin as you cover your face and shy away from her.

she’s shocked when she pries your arm away and finds tears welling in your eyes.

“babe,” she calls incredulously. “why are you—”

“we wouldn’t have been in this situation if i wasn’t so immature and just talked to you about it,” you hiccup.

ellie’s face is falling, pulling you up to wrap you in her arms.

“babe, stop,” she whines softly, rocking you as a shudder rips down your spine. “i should’ve said something and i definitely shouldn’t have acted the way i did earlier. if anything i was immature.”

“you’re such a good girlfriend, ellie,” you whimper. “and i’m...i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” she stops you firmly, peeling away from you to thumb at your chin. “don’t do that.”

and you feel like such a big fucking baby as ellie repositions the two of you so that she’s leaning against your headboard and she’s pulling you against her sweaty chest.

“i’m sorry, ellie,” you choke again.

“stop apologizing,” ellie croaks, and you realize that the emotions are welling inside of her as well. “none of this was your fault, angel. i should’ve been honest and just told you, but i was scared.”

you’re still hiccuping, ear pressed over her heart.

“you’re my first real girlfriend in a really long time, and it doesn’t help that you’re so grossly out of my league, and—”

“ellie,” you chide.

“i don’t wanna mess things up with you,” she admits softly. “especially after the way we started.”

“i’d never hold that against you,” you swallow.

“and that’s what makes it worse. i know you wouldn’t even if you should,” ellie whispers. “and then today, i saw you with someone else and it made me so fucking mad because the two of you look so good together. it made me feel like i don’t deserve you.”

“els.” and you’re crying harder now, arms winding so tight around her waist, she feels like she’ll burst.

“i’m sorry,” ellie says gently. “you’ve always been so fucking good to me and—”

you’re leaning up, kissing her to shut her up before she starts crying and she’s cradling your face like you’re the most fragile thing.

“i love you so fucking much, ellie,” you tell her between kisses. “let’s just...let’s just put this behind us, okay?”

she nods, pulls from your lips to nestle her face in your neck.

“i love you more, angel,” she murmurs against your skin. “you don’t even know.”

neng © 2023

listen i LOVEEE ANGST but where ARE THE ANGRY Y/NS ???? U CAN CRY OVER HIM CHEATING ON YOU BUT IM TRYNA SEE YOU BUST THE WINDOWS TO HIS CAR, SLASH HIS TIRES, BURN HIS CLOTHES, ETC. WHERES THE RAGE ??? WHERES THE ANGER ?? I WANNA SEE YOU GO HAYWIRE !!!! CHANGE THE LOCKS W/O TELLING HIM, MOVE OUT W/O HIM KNOWING AND PRETEND HE NEVER EXISTED. I NEED THE ANGER !!!!!!!

meadow afterglow

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

cw: fluff everyone !! pro hero bakugou, gender neutral reader, reader is a florist and owns a flower shop, reader loves flowers/plants/nature, swearing ofc, brief violence (attempted assault on reader from some strangers), awkward katsuki hours incoming- he’s super whipped but helpless, i switch povs from bakugou to reader often, tiny bit of angst.. some misunderstanding—both bakugou and reader are idiots that can’t communicate

wc: 5.2k words

analysis: bakugou fucking hates flowers—they’re too fragrant, too cliché, too romantic. and yet, he finds himself always coming back to the same flower shop once his shift ends.

———

bakugou katsuki doesn’t like flowers. hates them, despises them—loathes them even! flowers just aren’t his thing.

when they came along with prizes (where he won first place of course), he’d always snort and throw them away in some trashcan once he could.

when kids back in his middle and high school days were brave enough to make a move on him, he’d send a spark from his palm and ultimately burn their flowers (and hopes) away.

he does the exact same thing to this day with his fans if they were perhaps lucky enough to encounter him during his patrols. (it looks bad when the press covers it obviously and that’s only one problem his pr team deals with.)

so yeah, in conclusion: bakugou isn’t particularly fond of flowers. it’s one of his many supposedly unpleasant traits—not that he really cares. now, he’s changed in these past years, truly, but he’s still maintained some of the roughness of his personality.

‘cause when you think of pro hero dynamight, number two on the hero charts (interchangeably with number one pro hero deku), you don’t think of flowers.

but… here he is. it’s just around thirty minutes past six in the evening, the ropes of dusk in the sky evident as the city prepares for nightlife. his shift had ended a while ago, but everyday, on the way home, he makes sure to stop by a small shop. a flower shop of all places. and bakugou katsuki hates flo- yeah, you get the point.

he doesn’t even know why he hesitates going entering the shop—he’s pretty damn sure you can spot him from outside. his visits are expected. the sound of the dainty bell ringing reaches his ears as he walks in.

“back so soon, dynamight?”

he grunts and turns his head away, sharply avoiding your gaze so you miss the squinting of his red eyes. you’re behind the counter as usual, fixing the arrangement of some daisies in their pots.

his cheeks burn but he’s lingering by the entrance, feigning his attention on the shelves decked with plants so you don’t see any blush. “yeah, yeah.. jus’ give me some damn flowers already,” he demands gruffly.

the sound of you briefly laughing has his head whipping back to you almost instantly. he catches the sight of you lightly shaking your head in amusement.

“anything like usual then, dynamight?”

fuck, he can’t help but wonder what his actual name would sound like off your tongue. it’s always been dynamight this, dynamight that—and while he certainly doesn’t mind, he just can’t help but wonder. when you tilt your head at him, he realizes he had been staring. he clears his throat. “yeah, whatever.”

finally, he walks toward the counter, moving around the small display tables topped with a pretty arrangement of succulents as you beam at him.

“alrighty then!” you clasp your head together, nodding for a bit. “i hope you don’t mind tulips then. we got a fresh new batch so they should just do fine!”

he nods in acknowledgement. “yeah, that’s fine f’me,” he huffs. and as you send him another smile and you dismiss yourself to the back to fetch said tulips, he can’t help but think about your first meeting.

it had been a week or two ago. a usual day of kicking ass was over and he was just on the way home until longtime friend kirishima eijiro called in a favor—he had practically begged bakugou to grab him some flowers for his date with mina since he was running late.

begrudgingly, katsuki had agreed, insisting only because the redhead was being so damn annoying. and so he pulled in to the first flower shop he saw—yours. he had stormed in and just demanded for a bouquet and the rest was history.

he found himself coming back even though he didn’t even need fucking flowers. (at first, he tells himself it’s because he’s got nothing better to do. and then he convinces himself it’s just to ensure the safety of another civilian, since you close nearing nighttime and walk home. and then he can’t lie to himself anymore that he finds you a tad bit .. cute.)

when you return, he breaks out of his reminiscing and looks back to you, blinking expectantly. “here you go!” you chirp, presenting the tucked tulips in some wrapper.

he’s grabbing his wallet from his pocket with a huff. “right.” he can feel your gaze on him patiently and he almost fumbles with his hands. (how embarrassing—he’s done this so many times too.)

and when you exchange the amount of money for the flowers, the briefest of touches from your hands makes him stutter in his movements just subtly. once the flowers are with him, he can smell its scent and he wants to sneeze.

he brushes it off and raises a brow at you. he wants to say something, maybe tell how endearing it is to see how your name tag is lopsided on your shirt and your wrinkled work apron has some stains of dirt on it. but instead, he says- “go home, dumbass.”

he knows you’re used to his rather blunt comments and words, but he swears he can feel the tips of his ears burn with a scorch as you snort and giggle in amusement. “i could tell you the same thing, dynamight,” you say back.

the flowers shift in his hold and he eyes the counter for two seconds to regain himself as he clears his throat and scoffs. “i meant- it gets dark faster nowadays, ‘kay? go home.”

you salute him playfully. “of course. you know i don’t close up the shop until you leave. you’re my last customer, dynamight.” (he knows.) “drive safe!”

“mhm.” he grunts and decides to take his leave before he makes a fool of himself. you wave him goodbye enthusiastically as he exits your shop and gets back into his car.

and when he returns to his apartment, he places his tulips with the rest of the flowers safely.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

the morning is just creeping into the starting hours of noon—it gets a bit busier around this time with people in the city. peak business hour because sometimes, there’s always that one person who’s looking for some flowers or the perfect plant.

but right now, your shop is empty. the wafting scent of roses newly perched on the side counter fills the air but you don’t mind it as you sweep some fallen leaves from the floor.

you had turned on the small tv hooked up in the corner of the ceiling for some background noise, humming to yourself to pass time, but its current broadcast catches your attention.

“pro hero dynamight is on the scene of the ongoing shionosu bank robbery with the help of some sidekicks and-”

you abandon your sweeping to watch the small, short-lived clips of the robbery the news station has to offer, but seeing the familiar red-eyed blonde on screen has you feeling all fluttery.

you fingers tighten around the broomstick and you shake your head to yourself. you had somewhat gotten attached to the explosive hero throughout his daily visits—his honest and brash presentation may be off putting to others but you don’t mind. he’s like a literal explosion in your little life. you like to think that your plants enjoy his company.

besides, it’s sort of cute knowing that such an aggressive man had the time to stop by your shop nearly every single day to buy some flowers. and then you shake your head again—he was buying flowers, most likely for someone he was seeing.

you can still remember your first meeting with him like it was yesterday. man had strutted into your shop like he owned it and ordered you to give him some flowers. something along the lines of “oi! you still open? get me some shit for a date or something!” and that’s how it happened.

you wouldn’t change whatever this.. relationship you had with the pro hero for the world but it did hurt a little, knowing he was coming to your shop for your flowers only to give them to someone else. why else did he buy them?

the sound of his voice from the tv has you perking up and you’re quite embarrassed of yourself by the the effect he has on you, even on a damn screen.

“hah? just some fuckin’ d-list criminals who chose the wrong day to rob a bank,” he barks at the reporter, “you really think i couldn’t handle those shits?” of course, his words are poorly censored and you can’t help but laugh.

yeah, you’re okay with what you have. you’re happy that you can somewhat see another side of dynamight through your little exchanges.

the bell ringing then diverts your attention away from the tv and you politely greet an elderly lady walking in. you place aside the broom and head back behind the counter, content with knowing that you’ll see him later today.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou comes in during his usual time, casual clothes only slightly rumpled since he had been in a hurry to make sure to make it before you closed up the shop.

and there you are as always, behind the counter with a sweet smile. “good evening, dynamight!”

he sighs quietly, taking in the calm and scenery of your shop. it’s a welcomed contrast after the hectic events of today—annoying criminals thinking they could take him down and even more annoying reporters with nosy questions.

“hey.” he grunts, then asks curiously, “how was your day?” he decides to ignore how pleasant surprise flicks over your face by roaming through the shelves on the side.

“it was pretty good,” you hum in reply. there’s a pause and then you add, “i saw you on tv today. a robbery, huh?”

the realization that you saw him in action on screen makes his cheeks heat up for some reason but he plays it cool, peering at you from behind one of the shelves. “oh, yeah,” he chuffs, “impressed?”

you giggle to yourself, crossing your arms as you observe him. “impressed by how they somehow managed to censor you, that’s for sure.”

katsuki winces only subtly and rolls his eyes as he comes out from behind the shelving to approach the counter. “yeah, yeah. pretty sure my pr team is gonna try ‘n whoop my ass again for that.” he barks out a rough laugh. “as if they could.”

you tilt your head back as you laugh with him, and fuck, he thinks he can watch you laugh all day. it’s music to his ears. “right,” you snort, “they can try, huh?”

he straightens his shirt somewhat, noticing the obvious wrinkles on them. “oh, yeah. you watch me the whole time?” he’s teasing.

“you wish,” you banter back, now uncrossing your arms to drum your fingers on the table absentmindedly. “this woman came in for some flowers. she was so kind- i gave her some delphiniums!”

he tilts his head, brows furrowing. “delphi-what now?” he huffs, leaning against the counter as he watches you brighten up. (damn, are you cute. but he’s not gonna say that out loud.)

“delphiniums are pretty.” you sigh and then start to ramble, “i gave her some royal larkspurs. pretty easy to take care of at the start! they usually symbolize dignity and grace, amongst some other things like sincerity, dedication- oh, i’m talking too much, aren’t i?” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “you’re just here for some flowers, sorry. uh, just anything like usual?”

bakugou blinks and chuckles softly. “nah, don’ worry. like hearing you talk.” shit, did he really say that? he straightens his posture and clears his throat, trying to act all nonchalant. “and uh, actually- i’ll take the larkspurs or whatever.”

you gaze is wide before you nod with a bright smile. “larkspurs it is.”

later that night, he adds those beautiful arching flowers of blue with his growing collection, another reminder of you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

god, how bakugou hates commission meetings with a passion. what he hates even more is waiting for them to actually start. ‘cause that means he actually has to socialize with his fellow colleagues.

like fucking deku here.

most of the heroes are lingering around the long table, and here’s his childhood friend, rambling on with the familiar faces of half ‘n half bastard and round cheeks, and they’re entirely invested with his current dilemma. “i just don’t know what to get her! i’m overthinking this, right? just a simple gift or some flowers could do, right?”

ochako pats midoriya’s shoulder reassuringly, saying, “you shouldn’t worry about it too much, deku. i’m sure your mom would love anything you get her!”

deku shakes his head as he continues mumbling in thought. even after all these years, the nerd never lost some of his annoying traits, much to bakugou’s irritation. old habits die hard, he supposes. (however, when you ramble, he finds that he doesn’t want you to stop.)

some of the others are joining in on the conversation to pass time—there’s fucking both dunce face and soy sauce face and he’s pretty sure he’s one second away from blowing the shit out of all of ‘em. how the hell did he tolerate them in high school?

before icyhot can open his mouth and surely say something idiotic, bakugou groans and turns in his chair to face them, dragging a hand over his face. “oh, for the love of- can you shut your trap already? jus’ get her some larkspurs or some shit.”

fuckin’ nerd looks at him all curious and interested, and he’s got the attention of the others now as well. “larkspurs, kacchan?” deku questions.

“yeah,” he huffs, turning his gaze away. he recites their meaning he had learned from you instinctively, crossing his arms and kicking his feet up onto the table.

denki then speaks up, “woah, kacchan. since when were you a flower expert?” the electric hero grins and leans forward and the others are obviously interested too.

“fuck off!” katsuki snaps roughly, “i ain’t no expert on some damn flowers. hate those fuckin’ things.”

he grumbles when the others laugh and continue to tease him whilst deku thanks him profusely. yeah—he’s still a damn nerd.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

it’s another day of business. still midday, with the sun taking its place in the high in the sky. the afternoons aren’t as hot anymore, and you know you should start to move some of the display plants outside back inside but you’ll get to that later.

a lovely couple had left earlier with their desired flowers for their upcoming wedding and you had happily aided them. once they had left, you decided to take a small break, slouching on the counter.

you can’t help but let your thoughts drift back to a certain blonde. judging how he really didn’t care what flowers he got—other than the time he had asked for the larkspurs—you guessed his partner really didn’t mind the type of flowers they received either.

and as if your thoughts had summoned him, the bell rings and the door opens to reveal the man plaguing your mind, fully decked out in his hero costume.

“d-dynamight?” you yelp in surprise, immediately fixing your posture as you stare at him. he only comes at the end of the day, after his work is over and yours is nearly done—what the hell is he doing here? in the afternoon?

“ya busy?” bakugou grunts, making his way in without any further words.

he looks so out of place here—brandished armor and heavy duty boots sounding heavy on the floor. you’re pretty sure he almost knocked over the shelves with how big his gauntlets are. he looks made for battle but here he is, standing expectantly, surrounded by flowers and plants.

“um- um, no?” you then shake your head. “what’re you doing here? not that i mind! it’s just.. you’ve never come in the middle of the day before! what if someone sees you?”

he makes sure his grenadier bracers don’t actually knock down your hard work of arrangements, looking to you. “s’why i’m gonna be quick, idiot. can’t come later tonight so ‘m here now.”

“o-oh! of course.” you rush around the counter to pick something simple to offer to him, since he doesn’t seem to care again on what he’ll receive. you’re aware of his eyes following you as you grab some false indigos for a bundle.

“stay safe out there, dynamight,” you bid him, holding out the flowers for him to take. “i’ll see you some other time then?” you hate how hopeful you sound.

his red irises linger on you for a couple of seconds before he nods and pays up. “yeah, you will. you stay safe, idiot.“

his words make you feel warm—with the false indigos now with him, you simply smile. you won’t tell him that they symbolize protection; maybe he can learn that another day.

(later on, you see a media outlight that reads PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN WITH FLOWERS… HAS HE FOUND A PARTNER? and you hate how the title makes your stomach churn with jealousy—but seeing your flowers tucked delicately in his arms is worth it.)

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou actually doesn’t get to see you for a couple of days. there had been a change in his schedule and he had been assigned for some overnight shifts along with some other heroes in another district due to the rise of criminal activity there.

but he’s back now, thankfully, and he’s antsy to see you after all this time. (mind you, it’s only been three or four days. smitten, he is, for the attractive florist that supplies him with flowers even though he claims he hates them. on a side note, he hopes his assistant had taken good care of the false indigos he had placed in his office.)

so as he drives down the familiar street, katsuki can’t help but wonder if you still wait for him so you can close the shop. it has been a while since his last appearance that one early afternoon, so even though he wouldn’t be surprised that you don’t, he couldn’t lie and say he’d be a bit disappointed.

but as he pulls in into the parking lot, he’s furious.

you had just closed the shop, not even a few feet away from the door as a gang of looming strangers crowd in towards you, all hunched and shady as you match their stares warily.

katsuki isn’t sure he’s moved faster than he has in his life—he’s scrambling out of the car to help you when you manage to land a sucker punch square into one of the asshole’s jaws. with your flank exposed, another one lunges for you and you scream.

“you fucker!” he snarls and he reaches you in record time, the one you had already knocked to the side being met with an accurately aimed kick to the gut from his boot before he sends an explosion that has the remaining three flying.

when bakugou sees that none of them are making an effort to get up, he slips out of his offensive stance and immediately turns to you in concern, eyes roaming for any injuries. “are you hurt? did they touch you?” he demands, brows furrowed. “i’m-”

he falters when you simply stare at him in awe. the silence between you two is deafening and he doesn’t know how to interpret it. he starts, worried, “hey, are you-”

you arms wrapping him around has him inhaling sharply. his arms linger, unsure of what to do but he accepts your embrace delicately. “thank you, dynamight,” you murmur after a moment, still holding him.

he breathes softly, and he’s all quiet when he speaks again. “..it’s bakugou to you,” he tells you gruffly, “got it?”

his words have caught you by surprise—he knows it by the way your eyes widen when you pull back to look at him. he meets your stare readily.

“thank you, bakugou,” you say gently, and his gaze softens. (hearing his name roll off your tongue is something he can get used to, he decides.)

he then chuckles, all fond. “remind me not to get you mad. that punch looked nasty.”

you laugh genuinely, and katsuki can’t help but think about how much he missed hearing it.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou drives you home every night from then on.

you had no problem before, as your apartment building isn’t that far off, perhaps a fifteen minute walk, pushing ten if you jogged a little, and that was something you could manage. until the incident a couple weeks ago.

you definitely feel safer with him escorting you, even when you did protest that he didn’t have to waste his time driving to your shop, waiting for you to close and then dropping you off at your apartment—but he insisted. like, almost put you in a headlock if your dumbass didn’t listen insisted. (he still buys flowers every time too.)

and as giddy as it made you to spend more time with the pro hero, the reminder that he was supposedly taken was enough for you to know your limits. he’s simply doing his job—protecting people, s’all.

but in moments like this, you think you can selfishly enjoy yourself.

he’s blasting his music—some sort of punk rock that you can’t deny is pretty catchy—with his newly acquired lilacs resting on the center console for him to take home. it’s a bit silly, hearing such vulgar lyrics in the background as the petals of the magenta flowers shake slightly.

“you’ll enjoy your new home with bakugou, won’t you?” you coo at the plant, brushing your fingers over it tenderly. “he’ll take good care of you, i’m sure.”

bakugou’s got one hand on the wheel and he casts you an amused glance. as the car approaches a red light, he turns down the music and snorts. “are you seriously talking to the fuckin’ flowers?”

you lightly glare at him, a smile quirking up on the corners of your lips. “it helps them grow when you talk to ‘em nicely!”

“oh, yeah?” he raises a brow, snorting again—but he’s got an amused smirk on his face now as he focuses back on driving. “i’ll keep that in mind then, idiot.”

you sneak subtle side glances at him the rest of the ride, admiring his beauty—so close yet so far.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

this is so fucking stupid, bakugou thinks. he should be buying flowers for you, not from you—or whatever couples do nowadays to please their partners. but here he is, back again. even if he is your drive home, this weird tradition of buying your flowers he had gotten accustomed is getting old. he just hopes you’re getting the hint that he’s not exactly here for the flowers.

katsuki doesn’t even bother announcing himself when he doesn’t see you behind the counter—you’re probably somewhere in the back tidying up some final things so you can leave, so he starts looking for something to buy already.

“hey, got anything new f’me to buy?” he calls out then, and he hears some rustling from the back room. he figures he might help you out so without much thought, he saunters around the counter, following the noise of your muffled movements.

your voice rings out, “yeah, i do! just lemme-” way closer than before and just as he enters the doorway of the backroom, you appear—walking right into him.

now, obviously he’s a wall. lean and fine muscle make up his body—and you crash into him, yelping when you stumble back in surprise.

bakugou’s reflexes are quick and he manages to catch you in time—his arm dips low and braces the small of your back before you can fall over. “fuckin’ idiot,” he huffs out, “be careful.”

“hey!” you cry out in protest, “you’re the one who was standing there! for someone so loud, you sure are stealthy.”

“ah? i can be plenty fucking stealthy!” he argues, voice booming against the walls and proving your point.

you giggle at that—and that’s when katsuki realizes you’re both so fucking close. he can see the shape of your lips and the way your eyes gleam in the lighting from above. he freezes.

you seem to realize it too, falling silent for a couple of heartbeats. bakugou clears his throat and lets you go. “alright, brat. gonna give me my flowers so we can fuckin’ leave already?”

he thinks he sees your shoulders relax and fall down before you nod and brush past him. “yeah, of course.”

he scoffs and follows you, wondering what it’d be like to kiss you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

you twiddle with some ribbons laced around some pottery, trying to redo some decorations on them since you can spare some time.

bakugou had come in a little early for you to close up, so he waiting for you to finish, casually leaning on the counter as he observes the store. okay, well- you’re not exactly sure what he’s doing, since he’s probably memorized the entire layout of your small area of the building by now because of how many times he’s been here.

you’re humming idly to yourself, the tv flicked on to some music ambience channel to full in the quiet air anytime bakugou isn’t striking up a conversation. he’s been silent for a while now.

“what’s a person’s ideal date?”

you nearly drop a vase. obviously, the question surprises you. it should, you think, since this is a pro hero who’s been coming to your flower shop for over a month or two now, supposedly getting flowers for his significant other—even if he does linger around longer than he should and drives you home—and he’s asking you on what someone’s ideal date is? this.. doesn’t make any sense.

“well...” you begin reluctantly, unsure of where this is leading, and even more unsure on how to actually answer. “it depends on the person, bakugou.”

the blonde simply clicks his tongue and his eyes meet yours.

“okay then. what’s your ideal date?”

just when you think he can’t surprise you any further, he does. you’re pretty sure you eyes nearly bug out of their sockets as you set the vase aside so you don’t actually drop it. “huh?”

“you heard me, dumbass,” katsuki scoffs with a roll of his eyes and you want to disappear into the floor. “what’s your ideal date?”

your throat suddenly feels dry. “i’m, uh, not the best person to ask for romantic advice, bakugou,” you warn, trying to be all teasing as you laugh anxiously. you do not want to help him plan out a date—you’d rather throw yourself into the sun.

“‘m serious, brat,” bakugou grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at you. you can’t read him, usually you can’t, but his eyes are warm. “tell me.”

you continue fiddling with some ribbons as you glance away to contemplate. “well.. a- a picnic date would be nice. with some of my favorite foods, maybe. it’d probably be out in some meadow. just.. a nice, open meadow where you can see flowers for miles.” you sigh dreamily.

it’s quiet again and then you glance back to him, stammering, “but- but that’s just my preference! i dunno if the person you’re seeing would like that ‘n stuff. everyone’s different, y’know?”

suddenly he’s got his confused scowl on his face, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. oh god, did you offend him in some way? say something awful? what if you-

“hah?” bakugou snaps, voice colored in disbelief, “who the hell said i was seeing someone?”

what? now it’s your turn to be utterly confused, and you stare at him with wide eyes. “you’re not- you’re not seeing someone? dating someone?” you inquire, puzzled.

“no, dumbass!” he barks out, “i’m not- where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

you blink once, twice. “you!” you cry out, saying, “when you came in here for the very first time, you asked me to get you flowers for a date!”

bakugou’s eyes widen and then he’s taking steps towards you. “not a date for me, dumbass! my friend asked me to get him flowers for his date!”

you mind spins with the new information but you’re still so confused, still in denial—you shake your head. “but- but.. why else would you come in for flowers every single day?”

“because i wanted to see you!”

oh. the confession has your cheeks heating up. so… the blonde you’ve been harboring a massive crush on is, in fact, not seeing anyone, and is coming in every day to your flower shop to buy your flowers because he wants to see you?

bakugou stares at you, eyes all wide as if he can’t believe what he had just said aloud. his words are echoing in your head and you laugh a little. “you.. aren’t here for the flowers?” you say softly.

his gaze is all warm as he relaxes, and you can see the faint pink tingeing his cheeks. “no,” he confesses in a grumble, “..‘m here for you and your stupid dumbass.”

you laugh again, and he finally reaches you. his fingers twitch and slowly, you take his hands in yours. they feel a little warm, clumsy like he doesn’t know what to do with his fingers before they tighten around yours. “we really are idiots, huh?” when he glares at you softly, you add, “i like you too. just so you know.”

his blush is visible and oh so pretty now, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your words. and then he snorts, “good, ‘cus i’m gonna need some help takin’ care of all the stupid fuckin’ flowers at my apartment. it’s practically a shop now too.”

as he pulls you into a crushing hug, you burst into a fit of giggles.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“you forgot to water this one, you idiot!” katsuki calls from the corner of your shop, grumbling at some of the drooping crotons you brought in recently. “where the fuck did you put the watering can?”

you point to the counter, too occupied with fixing the succulents. “should be somewhere on the floor over there, suki,” you tell him. and as you watch him snatch the watering can and storm back over to the plants in need, you grin to yourself.

“thanks, katsuki,” you hum as you stand back up, “you’re a big help, y’know?”

he scoffs. “yeah, yeah.” as he tilts the watering can to spray the plants, he continues in a hushed voice. “what you would ‘lil fuckers do without me, ah?”

your heart does a flip. a month or so ago, you wouldn’t believe it if someone had told you that the pro hero dynamight would be in your shop taking care of your plants as he talks to them. but you know, you also wouldn’t have believed it if they had told you he’d be your boyfriend.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

and katsuki eventually does take you out on that ideal date once it gets warmer. a dainty picnic lunch with your favorite foods that he made from scratch in his very own kitchen in a heavenly meadow surrounded by flowers all around.

and it’s there, when he kisses you, that bakugou katsuki realizes that he doesn’t hate flowers. especially since he has the most gorgeous flower of them all—you.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Never would you have thought that you’d be running for your life from the one person you trusted the most, but neither did you think that he would let you go. (From this headcannon from ☁️ nonnie)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): SPOILERS, mentions of blood, dying, pregnancy, angsty, fluffy, lots of profanity

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7,338

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! Happy reading lovies <3 I hope you like it cloud nonnie!!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Afficher davantage

tbh this might be controversial but as someone VERY pro palestine so many fellow anti zionists are out of touch as fuck.

first: stop treating bisan like she's beyonce she just wants to be a normal person safe at home. of course give her a platform and a voice but stop acting like she's the next taylor swift that very clearly makes her uncomfortable.

second: a shit ton of yall are out of touch about the boycotts. of course, please boycott as much as you can but if youre harassing a starbucks or mcdonalds worker who doesn't even want to work there and is on the brink of homelessness, who inst privileged enough to just quit, you are not the good person you think you are. just because you are financially okay doesn't mean other people can just cut their only source of income especially with how bad the economy is. that's helping no one.

2.5: PLEASE stop telling people under the age of 18 who depend on their parents (who don't respect boycotts) that they should starve instead of eating if their parents get mcdonalds or dominos? like of course boycotting is one of if not the most important resource, but those kids arent CHOOSING to break boycotts thats not their choice some parents just don't listen. kids need to fucking eat and no sane activist or palestinean would want ANOTHER child to go without food.

instead of bullying poor people please actually do things that benefit palestine

Hello, Doll

Yandere Eddie Munson *** [Stranger Things] *** [WARNING: Obsession, Stalking, Elements of horror] *** We do not condone the behavior displayed in this story. These situations are fun in fantasy, but not in real life. Let’s confine this sort of thing to fiction.

              Something was wrong. The knowledge sat in your stomach, where you swallowed it down. It had been there for weeks, since he first approached you. He had leaned against the locker beside yours, with the light illuminating his hair and shining against the pins on his jacket. “Hello, Doll.” He had said, with his lips pulled back in a smile. You hadn’t known how to respond, but it didn’t matter.                    Eddie left- and it didn’t stop there. For weeks after you found letters in your lockers, written on soft parchment paper and red ink. You found wild flowers by your doorstep, pulled from your neighbors lawns and wrapped tightly together. You could feel his eyes on your back during class, and see his gaze follow when you moved. You could feel his presence behind you in the school halls, and even when you walked home!                      Eddie didn’t speak to you after your first encounter, aside from his declarations and promises scrawled messily in the letters. You didn’t understand it. What were his intentions? What had possessed him to do this all of a sudden? You knew Eddie wasn’t a satan worshipper, or a cult leader, or evil like most people insisted. But what you did know, is this was not normal.                       

* * * 

The sky had darkened into a deep blue, and the trees outside your window kept knocking on the wall. Your bedroom light painted everything pale yellow. You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. It had crept up on you the moment your parents left the driveway, planted itself in your gut like something foreign and unwelcome. (Something’s wrong.)                      You slowly stood up and let out a breath. You ran your hands through your hair and shot a glance at your bedroom door. You were alone. You had begged your parents to stay, but their plans were made months ago. They left in a hurry, assuring you everything would be fine. This did nothing to ease the panic in your chest. You weren’t sure where it had come from, it was simply there with your pumping heart and trembling hands. It was there in the ways your eyes watered. In the quietness of your voice. A deep apprehension had settled around you like a coat, crept up your spine like rot growing on basement walls. You had spent hours trying to reason with yourself. There’s no one here. My parents locked the door when they left. Eddie’s behavior has just made me paranoid!                 But when that didn’t calm you down you found yourself standing in front of the door, with your palm on the handle. “I’ll make sure the door is locked,” you whispered. You thought it would put your mind at ease- see the turned lock, see the closed window. See that you were alone, and you were safe, and nothing was wrong.                                You hated how dark the rest of your house was. The only light was what drifted in through the windows, dull and blue. Every room was filled with that thick, heavy blackness, the kind that covers everything in front of it. The shadows shifted and mended themselves together into imaginary monsters, and minute by minute you were beginning to regret this. Your eyes scanned every doorway, every window, every object on the shelves. Nothing was out of place. There weren’t even markings in the dust.                     When you reached the living room, you realized where your fear had come from. You couldn’t see anyone, not in the darkness. But you didn’t have to. You knew who it was the moment he spoke.

“Hello,” He was here. “Doll.”

You couldn’t move. You watched the boy seep from the shadows of the room, watched him come into the light and closer still, but never did you move. Your entire body felt numb. It was like a dream. “Ed … Eddie . . ?” You couldn’t make yourself speak after that. Your mouth was too dry. Your head was racing but the words wouldn’t come. 

“I . . I didn’t mean to . . to come here. I just-“ His words trailed off. Eddie let out a quiet chuckle. ”I just wanted to see you.” His eyes held a glassy sweetness. Every word he said was slow, quiet, like he was talking to a scared animal. He was getting closer with every step. “I know i’m scaring you, and I’m . . I’m sorry.” He took in a deep, anxious breath. You couldn’t move. ”I just had to see you.”                      He stopped when he was right in front of you. He carefully lifted a hand and cupped your cheek. His fingers were cold. When he finally touched you, something must have clicked. You flinched away. It was a harsh, sharp movement that made Eddie tilt his head. He looked surprised. Confused, almost. “Hey . . ” You looked over Eddie’s shoulder. Dark blue light shone through the windows by the front door, and you suddenly realized your parents had never locked it. “. . (Y/N) . . ”                             

“Wh-Why are you doing this?!” You sputtered out. Eddie slowly lifted his head and met your eyes. He was still looking at you with that softness, that devotion.                             “I fell in love with you a year ago.” He let out a breath and his smile grew. “You don’t remember, do you?” You stayed silent for a moment. The entire house was silent. The crickets wouldn’t chirp. The dogs wouldn’t bark. The trees outside kept scratching the walls, like an animal who wanted in. You slowly shook your head. Eddie took in another breath. “That’s okay.” He let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t even remember who it was. One of those assholes on the basketball team. He had thrown my figurines in the trash, and you yelled at him. You were like two feet shorter than him, but your voice was so loud it didn’t even matter! It was such a small thing, but I . . I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His face fell. “I never had the courage to talk to you. I’ve mentioned it in my letters, but . . I know you stopped reading them.”                                      

          You turned to run for the door but Eddie was faster. He grabbed your hand and pulled you backwards into his chest, his other arm snaking around your shoulders. Your chest was tight and your eyes stung. You swore you were going to cry, but instead of tears you only let out quiet whimpers.                   “Hey, hey, hey, just calm down,” He murmured. He was still looking at you the same. His gaze was glistening with softness, adoration. Worry.  He buried his face into your neck, and pressed a warm kiss against your skin.                              You stood there in disbelief. This wasn’t a new obsession- it had been there for over a year! It had been growing like the weeds in your neighbors yard! It had soaked in like red ink! It had been festering there like fucking decay! This was it. This was the fear pouring in your gut, this was the knowledge left to rot in your stomach!

This was it!

”Get away from me!” 

You smashed your head against his nose. Eddie screamed. His hands left your body to cover his face and you fell to the ground, listening as curses and pained gasps left his mouth. “God damnit (Y/N)!”                                                  Blood was beginning to stream between his fingers, staining his shirt and smearing over his chin. His nose had begun to swell, and every time he touched it there was a nauseating crunching sound. His hands were trembling- With what? Was it pain? Anger? Anxiety? His curls obscured most of his features, but you could see his eyes were narrowed and watering. “Fuck, just wait a second (Y/N)!” Your head was throbbing, aching, and a thick dizziness had washed over you. You were desperately trying to stand up again, but panic made your actions sloppy. Every movement was stumbling, clumsy, and every breath you inhaled pulled at your sternum.                       “I- I’m not mad!”                                                          The dizziness was awful. Your thoughts were clouded, your head was foggy, and all you could think about was how you were going to get out! There were only a few more feet between you and the front door, but the distance seemed impossibly far. You were running as fast as your numb feet could carry you, with Eddie right behind you. His blood was still dripping from his face and onto the floor. He was frantically reaching for your waist, your shoulders your hair!  

“I promise I’m not mad!”

You shrunk away from his lovelorn grasp and sprinted out the door as fast as you could. The cold night air hit you, and the final relief came in waves. You fell into the grass, your chest heaving and your legs aching. Your eyes were locked on the front door, which still sat wide open. You were waiting for anything. Sounds, movements. You kept expecting him to come out after you, to pull you out of the street and into his arms. But nothing happened. There was no way to know how long you lay there. Till the dogs started to bark again. Till the sky turned orange. Till your parents pulled back into the driveway. None of it mattered though. Eddie was gone. he slipped out the back door like nothing more than a shadow, a stray cat.

You weren’t safe. 

The flowers would still be gifted, the letters would still appear. Eddie was still in love with you. This wasn’t over.

Note: I’m a bit rusty, it’s been a bit since i’ve written a fic so I hope this turned out okay 🖤