#all fights were had out of order and one part would never arrive
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dark-elf-writes · 1 year ago
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A personal fanfiction pet peeve of mine is when a smut fic has “~~~❤️❤️~~~” in the dialogue to denote moaning. It is a full immersion break for me. Moaning dialog at all is very hit or miss for me but the ~~~ sends me violently back to rping smut over texts with my friends when we were wayyy too young to be doing so.
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ozzgin · 4 months ago
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Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)
Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.
Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.
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Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]
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The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.
You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.
He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.
He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.
"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.
"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.
While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.
"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.
You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.
You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.
"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.
"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."
Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.
On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.
Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.
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jaewritesfic · 4 months ago
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Melon!AU Part 2
If it had been anyone but Cass to suggest it, Bruce is certain that both Damian and Tim would have responded with an immediate and vehement, Are you insane?!
But it is Cass. It's Cass, so Damian makes a choked sound and bites out, “Help. The Pit Demon?”
Similarly, Tim chokes out, “I don't know about that one, Black Bat. I mean- it's- it looks-”
“Judging books?” Cass asks through comms, a gentle disapproval in her tone that rivals Alfred’s in effectiveness. Bruce himself feels a little cowed by it.
Diplomacy had not, after all, been on his mind before his daughter spoke up.
He should know better than to make assumptions, especially if she's right and the creature isn't as hostile as it seems.
That's still a very big if.
“Commissioner,” Bruce says lowly, turning his head. Gordon is lingering near the roof access stairway, having come up to brief them but seeming reluctant to even look down on the creature in the alley. “Have there been any casualties? Injuries?”
Jim falters, uncharacteristically rattled. Bruce can't blame him - there's a low level dread and an unsettling feeling just being in the same vicinity as the creature, and that's as a seasoned vigilante. Someone who faces death down regularly.
“Uh. No. No, it uh- it took some swipes at people who got too close, but it didn't connect. We backed off pretty fast and called you as soon as possible.”
Bruce blinks. “Not even any blood drawn?”
Gordon shakes his head. “Damn miracle. The thing is fast and those claws are vicious.”
He hears Cass hum into the comms, and he understands exactly why.
The thing in the alley is built to do damage. He has his doubts it was any kind of miracle that made it ‘miss’ any of the swipes it took.
Trying to scare them off indeed.
“Black Bat. What exactly are you reading off the creature?”
“Looking for exits. Desperate. Overwhelmed.”
Bruce hums. “Being cornered and desperate will make anyone or anything dangerous. We need to proceed carefully here. Even if it doesn't want to hurt anyone, that doesn't mean it won't if it thinks it has no other-”
The shadow that is Cass shifts in his periphery, and he looks up to the opposite roof just in time to bark, “Do not-!” as Cass steps off the roof and flips down into the alley.
Why are his kids so determined to give him a stroke?
Dick vaults up over the edge of the roof to join he and Tim, saying, “I'm here, what's-”
He cuts off and claps his hands over his ears with everyone else when the creature shrieks at Black Bat's unexpected arrival.
“Black Bat,” Bruce grits out, heart in his throat as he peers over the edge with ringing ears. “Retreat back to the rooftops now.”
One tap to the comm. No.
Bruce grits his teeth, fighting not to show his anxiety. It's not like Cass to refuse orders. Hell, he can't remember her ever disobeying an order in the field so blatantly.
The low warning noise the creature is making now is almost as bad as the shriek. Something about it sets off every alarm bell in his brain, like it was never meant to be heard by human ears. Almost a growl, almost a moan, something celestial and unfathomable.
Cass doesn't back up or get any closer. She raises a hand slowly in a little wave and says, “Hello.”
If it were possible to startle a fax machine, it would probably sound like the creature does as it jerks and snaps its mouth shut in surprise, lamplight eyes going huge and round.
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munariplans · 11 months ago
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welcome home, red | natasha romanoff
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synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.
natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader
word count: 6.7k words
a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!
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BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece. 
perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed. 
but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for. 
“natasha?”
she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”
“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”
the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time. 
“your little crush.”
“your wife that you claim isn’t.”
“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”
she glared at clint for the last remark. 
“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset. 
fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”
even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.
– 
you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least. 
washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead. 
honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission. 
“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her. 
she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”
“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.
you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”
“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”
natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”
you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”
“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”
you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”
natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could. 
this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her. 
with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”
natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?” 
she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.
however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either. 
you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point. 
you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two. 
sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away. 
“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.
natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to. 
she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”
the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed. 
the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun. 
“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”
“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”
black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook. 
she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption. 
the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. 
for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet. 
you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen. 
thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.
he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”
“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.
“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.
“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”
clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”
“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”
“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?” 
your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.
the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.” 
all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.
by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.
clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.
“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.
if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny. 
but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.
had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all. 
when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.
finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.
while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.
you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.
“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”
“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.
you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”
“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.
she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”
you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.
but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”
head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”
your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”
you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say. 
shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”
felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.
she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”
“she��s…newer.”
“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.
“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”
you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–
“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled. 
“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”
she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help. 
felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”
your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”
“...then why did you run?”
she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”
“when you were innocent?”
“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”
“you could’ve called me.”
she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”
you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”
sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do. 
so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well. 
her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.
– 
the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”
she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”
“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”
it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”
you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”
“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”
you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.
putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”
natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all. 
it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you. 
there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.
in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.
“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”
she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted. 
you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.
you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her. 
felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.
“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.
still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”
you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”
“for what?”
“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”
she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”
“i really am–”
“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”
she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”
then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.
somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows. 
“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.
“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”
natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.
“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.
i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp. 
the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.
the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you  were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue. 
it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you. 
in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”
to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”
it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.
with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go. 
and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew. 
heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit. 
it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.
catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea. 
but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.
you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands. 
natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well. 
if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.
her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.
felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth. 
“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”
“thanks.”
she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own. 
“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”
you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”
“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”
you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.
but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself. 
you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.
“red?”
“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”
her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”
she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier. 
“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on. 
“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace. 
“take care, felicia.”
you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.
natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air. 
there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one. 
but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.
she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes. 
“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”
you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.
at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?” 
she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”
natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.
“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”
natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face. 
she pouted. “she’s pretty.”
you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”
“has nice blue eyes.”
you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”
“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.
you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”
natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.
that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.
“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.
in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning. 
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hanafubukki · 1 year ago
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Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic (after some time has passed that is) or can be read as a stand-alone.
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“Leave me alone human!”
“For someone who is chained to the ground and gravely injured, you’re pretty loud.”
“I’ll rip you from limb to limb.”
“Why don’t you get better first before we get there hmm?”
General Lilia Vanrouge screeched at you in the fae language, some of which you knew were curses. Ah yes, you can’t wait to make fun of your Lilia when you get back to your time. His cursing while playing video games had you easily recognizing some of them now.
Luckily for you and your ears, the General wore himself out. The wounds from the iron and those of the battles weakened him.
It didn’t help that he also had a fever as a result. You were put in this cell to help him recover. Humpty Dumpty- well, King Henrik, implied it was the least you could do.
A random human that was pick up by his men, who was using valuable resources that could go to his soldiers instead. Never mind the fact that you helped treat said soldiers and gather said resources.
The Knight of Dawn had clenched his fist, about to speak up on your behalf. But you simply grabbed his hand and shook your head. It wasn’t worth it. King Henrik would just make his life harder for talking back, and you didn’t want that. The Knight of Dawn dealt with enough, you didn’t want to add onto his troubles.
…But you also didn’t realize that meant staying locked up in this cell with General Lilia Vanrouge either.
The General wasn’t exactly happy when he first met you, and you couldn’t blame him. You just weren’t used to the open hatred from familiar eyes you would see everyday. Eyes that were always friendly to you, now burned you.
The first time you tried to provide him treatment, he had fought back until his wounds weakened him to an unconscious state. You had silently treated him then. Not a soul a witness to your tears.
As the weeks passed, the General gradually stopped fighting back, probably due to his weakening state…it didn’t shut his mouth though funny enough.
You were only let out for a change of clothes, a bath, a proper meal, and a bed to sleep in every few days. Even then, King Henrik made it seem as if that was too good for you.
You later found out it was due to the Knight of Dawn’s request that you were even allowed such accommodations. Your heart ached at the idea of what he must have gone through to get you this, as you knew King Henrik did not treat him well.
You breathed softly, you wished you could return home soon.
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You were dressing a wound on Lilia when you felt him stir.
“Melea…Le…B…”
You took a wet cloth and wiped his forehead.
He must be dreaming about his family.
You knew all would be well in the future, but that didn’t mean current events didn’t affect you.
It hurt you to see so many struggle in a useless war, due to greed from one man.
Lilia clutched at his stomach, his sharp claw like nails reopening the wounds you had painstakingly bandaged.
You quickly grabbed his hands and sucked in a breath of pain. His nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. His grip could break your bones to tiny, incomprehensible pieces, but you held on.
You knew he wanted to be free and return home, to protect his loved ones. You were determined to heal him for that very reason.
“Damn it Lilia Vanrouge! You will get through this! You have so much to look forward to. So many people who love you! Now, stop being a prick and let me go so I can treat you!”
Surprisingly, he let you go. You ignored your bleeding, aching hands in order to reseal his wound.
“…will you be in that future?”
You froze, turning and looking into feverish eyes.
“Yes.”
General Lilia Vanrouge fell into a deep sleep for the next 10 days.
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You were returning to Lilia’s cell when a knife was held to your neck.
“Human, where is the fae you captured?”
Ah, it seems rescue finally arrived for Lilia. It took them long enough.
You looked up into hardened, familiar eyes. Baul Zigvolt would have been a sight for sore eyes if he didn’t, you know, have a knife to your throat.
“I would gladly show you if you take that knife away.”
“You-”
“Besides, I was heading right in that direction. If you don’t want to be caught, you better hurry.”
You continued walking, listening to Baul grumble about frustrating humans. You couldn’t help the slight smile on your face as you remembered similar words said by his grandson.
You led Baul quickly and quietly to the cell that practically became a second home to you. No one in sight. You had noticed, unlike the men that the Knight of Dawn commanded, the men directly under King Henrik were…well, just like him: sleazy and lazy.
They let their guards down thinking The Right General of the Fae was too weak and couldn’t take any of them on. They even implied you were nothing but a sacrificial lamb should said Fae get angry, but of course, they would rescue you at a price.
It took you all you could not to spit in their faces or smash their heads on the wall. The self defense lessons Silver and Sebek taught you provided security that you would forever be grateful for.
It was due to this fatal thinking that Baul was able to infiltrate the base, as the men went to seek entertainment elsewhere.
When you arrived, you opened the cell door quietly so as to not hurt sensitive ears. The sun was high enough for the cell to be well lit.
You heard Baul hiss in anger before rushing to his general’s side. Lilia didn’t seem surprised to see him, telling you how he must have always known rescue would come for him.
“General!”
“Careful! You’ll-”
Baul recoiled from the burns the iron chains struck at him.
“I tried to warn you.” You shook your head. You sat next to Lilia, taking his hand in yours. From the corner of your eye, you could see Baul tense but Lilia motioned for him to remain calm.
You picked at the lock. Another thing to be thankful for, your lock picking skills, which you learned quickly from days you were locked outside of Ramshackle Dorm because Grim forgot the key or the door just wouldn’t open.
“You got it in one go this time.”
“I told you I had surprises up my sleeves. I just needed the right tools.”
“Hmm, so you say.”
Baul looked at both of you as if you both at grown two heads each. Lilia noticed his look and waved towards his feet. Where chains that should have been locked were open.
“Any longer, Baul, and I would have rescued myself.”
Baul stammered before apologizing. You turned away to hide your smile.
Within moments, the atmosphere changed. General Lilia Vanrouge had to escape and return to his men.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“You have to leave. You need to return to your troops."
Lilia clenched his jaw, looking at you. You couldn't return with him; you both knew that. It didn't stop him from trying, but you shook your head before he could even open his mouth.
"I can't go with you."
A human amongst the fae would not last long, at least not now. There was too much hatred.
You took the cuffs that had been his tormentor for so long and locked them around your hands. You chose to ignore the angry growl Lilia tried to hide at the sight of the cuffs now imprisoning you.
"I'll make it look like you escaped, now go."
"They'll hurt you."
You shook your head.
"The Knight of Dawn would never let that happen."
He knew you were right. The Knight of Dawn had visited several times, helping you treat his wounds and restrain him when the fever would have him lash out at you.
The Knight of Dawn had honor, as a fellow general and soldier, Lilia respected him for it. Lilia pulled one of his magic stones off his belt before offering it to you.
"Take this. Smash it to the ground if you need help, I'll find you."
You agreed and watched the two soldiers turn to leave. General Lilia Vanrouge hesitated before speaking, "You told me you would be in my future."
"I will be."
"You better keep that promise, YN."
"I will."
General Lilia Vanrouge and Baul Zigvolt vanished from your sight.
I'll see you both soon.
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Part 3 (each part takes place after some time has passed) or can be read as a stand-alone.
Author’s Notes: I can’t believe this became a 1.5k fic, the way this bat fae drives me crazy. 😂💞🌺
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corroded-hellfire · 6 months ago
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As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 9
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Collaboration with the one and only Dr. @munson-blurbs 💛
Summary: Eddie's finally moving into a place of his own. It's fun and exciting but at the same time, it makes things more real for the boys.
Note: It is here! A happy As You Wish Wednesday to you all
Warnings: talk of divorce, Brittany
Words: 7.4k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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Eddie usually hated his government name. He’s Eddie, not Edward; the latter too formal and a reminder of when he’d get reprimanded at school. 
But today, as the ballpoint pen glides over the paper, he’s never been happier to be Edward Munson. 
“All right,” the leasing manager chirps, procuring a key from her back pocket, “congratulations on your new apartment, Mr. Munson.”
“Thank you.” It’s bittersweet; his first place without Brittany, without his boys as permanent fixtures. But he no longer needs to couch surf or rely on anyone else. This is his place, and though it’s not quite the house he once lived in, it’s home. 
The Harrington household is in its usual state of controlled chaos when Eddie arrives. His sons are running around with Steve and Nancy’s three oldest kids on their front lawn, so engaged in a rousing game of freeze tag that they don’t even notice the car pulling up. 
You spot him right away, greeting him with an excited wave. One arm stays wrapped around Mia, who offers a big smile when she sees her favorite uncle. 
“Ryan! Luke! Dad’s here!”
The boys grumble, clearly upset about their game being cut short, and the Harringtons cheer triumphantly. 
“We won! We won!” Theo cheers. 
Luke shakes his head. “No, we’re just pausing until next time.”
“Nuh-uh! You guys forfeit, which means we win!”
You sigh. “We’ll call it a tie,” you decide, not waiting for a reply. Nancy comes out of the house to pay you, scooping up her youngest. 
“Did we avoid a fight?” She whispers to you. 
“Barely,” you confirm, tucking the bills into your front pocket. “I’m hoping to make our escape before it escalates.”
Nancy nods. “Godspeed.” She ushers Natalie, Theo, and Danny back into the house, bidding Eddie and his boys farewell, but not before Luke sticks his tongue in his friend’s direction. 
“Saw that,” Ryan mutters. So did you, but you lack the energy to reprimand the youngest Munson, so you act oblivious. 
This evening was the final celebration of your birthday week—the cherry on top that it seemed the boys wouldn’t let you go without: them treating you to a McDonald’s date. Ryan and Luke had both chipped in some pocket change they had in a piggy bank or hidden underneath a mattress. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Luke scrounged some of his from between couch cushions and between seats in his dad’s truck as well. 
With their donations appreciated, Eddie pocketed the money and told everyone to order whatever they wanted. That’s dangerous territory with the two rugrats around, but it’s a special occasion. 
The order in total managed to fit on four trays, which the guys said they had handled and would head off to find a table while you wait for the milkshakes at the counter.
As you rest your hip against the cool metal island that contains condiments and utensils, you hear familiar giggles coming from the tables around the corner. They bring an instant smile to your face. There’s a lot of turmoil going on in these kids’ lives right now, so the fact that they get to have these moments of peace and joy with their dad is very important. It’s part of the reason you told Eddie that it might be better to take Ryan and Luke shopping for their new rooms on his own. None of the three Munson men were having this, though. Every single one of them trusted your opinion far more than anyone with an XY chromosome in your little gang. 
“Milkshakes?”
The worker’s voice pulls you out of your head and you give her a polite smile as you pick the cardboard carrier up off the counter, holding two vanilla shakes for you and Ryan, a chocolate for Eddie, and a strawberry for Luke. You set off in the direction the previous laughter came from and just as you turn the corner are greeted by the sight of the back of your boyfriend’s head in all its curly glory. Thing One and Thing Two are on the other side of the table throwing fries at one another, trying to catch them in their mouths. 
“Come on, try me,” Eddie says, tilting his head back a bit. Ryan throws a fry first, but it bounces off his father’s cheek. Luke then throws a fry that is way too long and was never going to make it across the table. You watch in silence as the boys make a few more valiant attempts, Ryan able to sink one in eventually. The shakes are getting melty now though, so it’s time to barge in on their game.
When you walk over to the table and set the drink caddy down, you notice Eddie’s expression goes from playful to remorseful. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take your brain long to make the connection that this is something Brittany probably would’ve berated him for in the past—acting like a child and goofing around with the boys. It’s preposterous to even think of, really.
Instead of assuring Eddie with comforting words, you just slide onto the red vinyl booth next to him and nudge his arm with your elbow. 
“My turn.”
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Juxtaposed with the fun dinner you just had is the quiet car ride back to Brittany’s house to drop the boys off. Seeing the two happy little moods dampened weighs on Eddie’s heart, so he tries to get them engaged in another fun topic.
“Are you guys excited to pick out stuff for your new rooms tomorrow?” he asks, grinning at them through the rear-view mirror.
“Do I get, like…a new bed?” Luke asks.
“Sure do,” Eddie says as he flips the blinker on to turn into his old neighborhood. “And whatever kind of sheets you want to put on it.”
“Can I get ones with Spider-Man? Or Batman? Or Spider-Man and Batman?”
Eddie chuckles. “We’ll see what they have.”
That seems to satisfy Luke, at least for the moment, which is all you need. Eddie takes a deep breath as he pulls up to Brittany’s house—his former house. That twinge of pain never seems to dissipate, even though the end of his marriage was inevitable, the loss still hurts. Ryan doesn’t give him much time to dwell on things, though.
“Can I get a PlayStation for my room?”
Eddie barks a laugh and rubs a hand over his eyes. Before he can open his mouth to say no, Luke has to add his own outlandish request.
“Can I get a dog?!”
Your boyfriend just looks at you, silently begging you to take over before his patience completely runs out.
As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you casually announce, “No additional living beings until further notice.”
Luke grumbles, but ultimately relents, climbing out of his booster seat and running up to the door where Brittany is waiting.
“Mom!” Ryan and Luke yell out in unison. The older boy’s enthusiastic grin falters a bit when he notices the fakeness in his mom’s smile, but the younger boy thankfully remains oblivious.
“We’re gonna pick out stuff for our new rooms tomorrow!” Luke chirps.
Brittany’s perfectly plucked brows pinch together in a mix of confusion and her usual perpetual annoyance. “Tomorrow?” she asks, her voice far from genuine. “I thought we would spend tomorrow together, guys.”
“Britt, you said tomorrow you had that work thing, remember?” Eddie reminds her, a smug smile on his face. They both know damn well she just wanted to get out of taking the boys to the toy store when Luke originally asked the other day. 
Brittany glares at Eddie but Luke shrugs and walks away.  
“Another time, Mom.” He says casually, and something inside you breaks. You can feel it in Eddie, too. Luke’s unbothered attitude is too natural, like he’s accustomed to his mother constantly breaking their plans. 
Speaking up will only incur the wrath of Brittany, so you stay silent, leaving Eddie to maneuver the rest of the awkward conversation. 
���See you guys tomorrow,” he calls out to his sons, giving a cordial wave to Brittany. She doesn’t return it, closing the door in your faces. 
Eddie turns to you. “That could have gone worse, I guess.”
You scoff. “Yeah, she could’ve turned into one of those Demogorgon things from your D&D campaigns.”
“Now that would be entertaining.” He takes your hand in his, his rings pressing against your fingers. 
The car ride home will almost certainly involve a discussion about the way the boys’ faces fell when they saw Brittany and how to undo the damage of her bailing on plans. But for now, you take the moment to relish the love between you and Eddie. 
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“Look at that lamp! It looks like a jellyfish!”
It seems as if every other thing that Luke sees as the four of you walk up and down the aisles of the store catches his eye. If his new room incorporated all these new interesting finds of his, the small bedroom would look like the storage space of an eccentric car enthusiast who has an odd pension for nautical memorabilia. 
“I thought you wanted a Hot Wheels room,” Eddie says for what feels like the fortieth time.
“I do, that lamp just looks cool,” Luke says. “Hey! Can I get one of those rugs that looks like there are roads on it so I can drive my cars all around?”
“If we see one,” his dad tells him. 
Luke may only be five, but he already has expensive tastes. Ryan seems to be the opposite on this shopping trip—he doesn’t seem to know what he wants. None of the movie or character themed bed sets thrilled him, and there wasn’t a sport or activity he wanted highlighted. The only things the elder Munson brother had in the cart so far were a set of two black bookshelves to hang on the walls and a package of glow in the dark stars to stick to his ceiling. 
On the other hand, Luke had already collected Hot Wheels sheets, Hot Wheels curtains, a nightstand that looked like three tires stacked one on top of the other, a stuffed German Shepherd (since he can’t get a real dog, he said), a Scooby Doo calendar, and a set of four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle posters. The young boy had also tried to add an espresso machine to the cart, which was immediately halted by both you and Eddie.
“What in the world do you need an espresso machine for?” you had asked.
“For when I have guests,” Luke replied simply. 
“Oh, right,” Eddie said, raising his eyebrows. “Because I think that much caffeine is exactly what Mia Harrington needs.”
Luke scoffed and rolled his eyes as if his dad thought he was stupid. “Well, I wouldn’t give any to a baby.” 
You pinch the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, massaging gently. As grateful as you are that you have this opportunity to shop with Eddie and his boys, you can’t deny that your patience is swiftly draining.
“Luke, why are you pouting?” 
The voice doesn’t belong to you, Eddie, or even Ryan. No, this shrill, weasley voice could only belong to one person.
Brittany stands before you, a gaudy pocketbook tucked underneath her arm. Her lips curl into what you can only consider an attempted smile, though it still makes your insides curdle. 
“C’mere.” She motions to her youngest son, pulling him into a too-tight hug. You watch him squirm out of her grasp.
“Britt,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, “I thought you were busy today.”
Brittany shrugs nonchalantly, as though she hasn’t just completely derailed your afternoon. “Moved some things around.” She grins at Ryan and Luke. “What are we buying today?”
We. Like she was paying for any of it.
You swallow your frustration and shoot her an equally feigned smile. “Luke’s getting stuff for his Hot Wheels room, and Ryan still needs a reading lamp.”
“I wanted a race car bed, but Daddy said it was too ‘spensive. So, I’m gonna get Hot Wheels sheets instead,” Luke proudly announces.
Brittany furrows her brows in mock confusion. “But how can you have a Hot Wheels room with a regular bed?” She cocks her head, looking at Eddie. “I mean, you can’t splurge a little? I’m sure you have a guitar you could pawn.”
Eddie bites his lower lip so hard that you swear you see a speck of blood form. He’s holding himself back; being in public and in the presence of his kids keeps him from launching into an expletive-laden tirade.
“I’m not pawning a guitar for a bed he’s going to outgrow in a few years. Especially not when we came up with a good compromise.” His tone is terse, clipped.
Brittany rolls her eyes. “I’m sure the court will love to hear that,” she mutters under her breath, still loud enough for you and Eddie to hear. The boys, luckily, have dashed ahead. 
Your instinct is to bite back with a snarky comment about the court being much more interested in every important event she’s missed, but you restrain yourself. This isn’t your battle to fight, and any remark will just make Eddie’s life harder. Instead, you act as though she hadn’t said a word as you all catch up to the kids. 
Not one to be ignored, Brittany turns to her oldest son. “What about you, Ry? What did you pick out?” Her frown deepens when Ryan shows her the three items in the cart belonging to him. “That’s it? It’s like they forgot about you!”
“We didn’t—” you start, watching hurt seep into Ryan’s eyes, but Eddie quickly squeezes your hand. Don’t play into it. You know her comment stung him, too, and that it was even more difficult for him not to defend himself. 
There was no need for either of you to say anything, because Ryan is ultimately the one who speaks up. 
“I’m still deciding what I want. No one forgot about me—not like how you forgot about my holiday concert.”
Brittany’s cheeks go beet red, her jaw clenched. “You know what? I need to get going now, anyway.” She glares at Eddie. “Drop them off at my house when you’re done.” With that, she walks away. 
Your gaze immediately drops to Ryan, who just stands there as though shocked by his own comeback. “I…I didn’t mean to…” Tears well up in his eyes, and he blinks them back before they can stain his cheeks. “She just…”
Eddie puts one hand on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, looking up, and you know he’s weighing his options. He can harp on Brittany’s insufficiencies, or he can do the right thing. Be a role model. 
“I know, bud. It’s hard. Especially when we’re angry.” He gives a soft smile. “You’ve got that Munson temper—quiet till it boils over. But you can apologize to Mom when you see her later.”
Ryan nods somberly. 
Eddie glances at you for help, and you carefully oblige. “That doesn’t mean that it’s okay for her to miss your concerts,” you say. “But you can talk about how it makes you feel before those emotions get to be too much.”
“Maybe we should go home,” Eddie says, but Ryan shakes his head. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Ryan swipes at his misty eyes. “I wanna pick out a bed. Maybe one that has the drawers underneath.”
You grin. “More storage space for books?”
Ryan nods, and Eddie grins. “Whose kid is this? Certainly too smart to be mine.”
You want to ask him what he kept stored in his bedroom drawers, but refrain at the last second. Perhaps some things are better left unknown. 
Just one aisle over, Ryan’s attention snags on a bed that has his eyes widening. 
“It has a desk, too!” he says, taking off towards the bed at the end of the aisle. 
“Whoa!” Luke echoes, following behind his big brother. 
You slip your hand into Eddie’s as he pushes the cart forward with the other hand. Even though the boys are preoccupied with the piece of furniture, you keep your voice low. 
“I’m so proud of how you handled that,” you tell your boyfriend. “I was ready to scoop Ryan into my arms and comfort him and tell him everything is okay, but you did the right thing.”
Eddie sighs and gives your hand a small shake. “Shit. When did I become a grown up?” With another, more dramatic sigh, Eddie shakes his head. “Gotta fix that.”
Before you can ask what he means, he leans over and licks up the side of your face, tongue flat and hot against your skin. You squeal, taken by surprise and duck your head down away from him. 
“You’re a child!” you say through a heavy bout of laughter. 
“Damn straight, baby.”
When you look up ahead, the boys are now watching you two, your squeal having gained their attention.
“You guys know that your dad is bonkers?” you ask with a playful smirk on your face. 
“Uh huh!” Luke declares proudly. “We’re the Goof Troop!”
“Oh, are we?” Eddie questions. He spins the cart out of his way, like a car doing donuts, and hoists Luke up, throwing him over his shoulder. “I think you’re the goofiest of the goofs.”
Luke laughs as his orange t-shirt rides up his back. You adjust it for him before leaving the two guys with the matching curls to their antics and join Ryan over by the bed.
“You like this one, huh?” You wrap an arm around the elder brother’s shoulders and give a gentle squeeze. 
Ryan nods. “I wanted a desk in my old room. I mean, the room at the old hou—uh, Mom’s house. But my room is too small for one. But this is perfect! I crawl up top, there’s my bed! I come back down, it’s a desk!”
His excitement is palpable, and you can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to the top of his head. God, you’d give this kid the world if you could. Luke too, of course. They’re both such great kids and it’s moments like these where you realize just how lucky you were to meet this family. 
Brittany’s abrupt departure, while welcome, also means that the boys will be accompanying you and Eddie while you pick out his furniture. Or, as Luke so aptly puts it, “the boring stuff.”
The youngest Munson lasts all of six minutes before he starts whining. Your patience has already worn thin from Brittany’s antics, and you have to take a deep breath before you respond. 
“Luke, we picked out your stuff, now it’s Daddy’s t—”
Tears well up in his eyes. “But I don’t wanna! I wanna go home!”
You and Eddie share a glance. Between your schedule and his, there are few opportunities for you to shop together. You’re trying to remember what days you’ll be free when you hear Ryan pipe up. 
“We should play The Price is Right!” He exclaims. “Y’know, that show we watch when we’re home sick? We can guess the price of Dad’s furniture and see who gets the closest.”
Luke ponders this for just a moment before nodding emphatically. You and Eddie exhale twin sighs of relief, and you make a mental note to thank Ryan later. 
The boys guess on everything from bed sheets to sofas, with Luke’s answers only getting more outlandish. There’s no way he thinks a TV stand costs $80 million…right?
Eddie chuckles as he watches his sons over his shoulder. They’re looking up at a chandelier, Ryan’s lips pursed, and Luke with his head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. Your boyfriend shakes his head in amusement as he faces forward again, pushing the now-heavy cart further down the aisle. 
“I kinda like that lamp,” Eddie says, taking a closer step to the display sets blinding you with their high wattage all aimed in your direction. “Oh shit, that’s nice, too. Babe, what do you think?”
Coming up beside him, you loop your arm through his and press a few kisses to his shoulder.
“Sweetheart, it’s your apartment,” you remind him. “You deserve to make this place your own.” Giving a soft shake of your head, you wrinkle up your nose in a way that Eddie finds adorable. “You don’t want your girlfriend playing interior decorator.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows and angles his head down to meet your eyes. “Am I allowed to ask for my girlfriend’s opinion?”
“Of course.”
“Okaaay,” Eddie says, playfully pulling you in front of him so he can wrap his arms around your middle and run the tips of his calloused fingers over the soft material of your pink shirt. “So, girlfriend, which of the two lamps do you like better?”
The one that first caught Eddie’s eyes was a simple, basic design, but who really needs more than that? The black, twisting metal that twines up to an off-white lampshade is elegant and something you can absolutely see being in Eddie’s new living room. The second lamp is a little more ostentatious, though it’s certainly pretty. The silver body of the lamp resembles an hourglass, rounded edges topped off with a round white lampshade. It’s nice, but not something you can see Eddie being really happy with.
“I like the first one,” you tell him.
“That’s the one I was leaning towards,” he says. Eddie presses a kiss to your cheek before unwinding his arms from around your body so he can grab two of the lamp boxes to add to the cart. “Come on, shortstops. Keep up.”
The boys trail at a small distance, calling out numbers and pointing at various objects on shelves they’ll never be able to correctly identify prices on. With one hand, Eddie pushes the cart forward, and he lays his other hand, large and warm, against the small of your back as you walk.
“Now, this next part in particular is what I really want your opinion on.” Eddie’s words are just above a whisper and the ghosting of his lips against the shell of your ear sends a chill down your spine. There’s no need for you to look, you already know your boyfriend is smirking at the reaction he has on you. 
You turn the corner with the cart and when you see the next aisle, your face feels warm. Of course this is what he wants your input on the most. The bedding department. 
“What exactly would you like my help with?” you ask, feigning as much innocence as you possibly can. 
The aisles of bed linens, bed frames, mattresses, and pillows seem to stretch out for a mile before you. You don’t see this ending without Eddie severely working you up. 
“Well,” Eddie says with a shrug, far too innocuous for the thoughts you know are running through his mind. “We found things for the boys’ rooms, but none for mine yet. And since I’m really hoping you’ll be spending a good amount of time in my bedroom, I’d like you to be comfortable there.”
“Sounds reasonable enough.” You don’t meet his eye, instead strolling closer to the mattresses, to get a better look at them.
“Oh, yes!” you hear Luke cheer as his black and blue sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor. “I’m gonna guess all the beds right!”
Ryan follows along behind his little brother, shaking his head. He looks at you and mouths no he’s not. A chuckle rumbles your chest as you watch the boys walk further down the aisle, inspecting a shelf of body pillows. 
“What kind of mattress do you prefer?” you ask Eddie. “Firm? Soft? Somewhere in the middle?”
“I—” he cuts himself off, brow wrinkling as he looks down at the scuffed white floor beneath his boots. “I don’t actually know.”
“No?” you ask, curiosity burning inside of you. He’ll explain if he wants to, but you’d never push. 
He shakes his head. “I had a hand-me-down mattress when I lived with Wayne. Brought that same mattress when Jeff and I got a tiny ass apartment on the edge of Hawkins. After that I moved in with Brittany and we just used the one she already had. We got a new mattress when we moved into the house, but Brittany went out and picked it out herself. I didn’t see it until I went to sleep on it that night. It’s the same one there now.”
“So that mattress has a few good memories then,” you tease, giving him a gentle smirk. “Let’s test out what you like then.” You take a seat at the foot of the bed on the nearest mattress and hold out your hand to Eddie. 
He parks the cart between two adjacent mattresses and climbs on the mattress next to you. The two of you situate yourselves as if you were going to go to bed, to sleep. 
“This feels…” Eddie shifts his position, adjusting his shoulders to make himself more comfortable. “It’s a little hard.”
“I think so, too,” you agree. “Onto the next.”
After testing half a dozen beds, you and Eddie have deduced that he likes softer mattresses, but not too soft. With one goal achieved, now it’s time to find the most comfortable of the semi-soft mattresses.
“Okay, this might be the best one we’ve laid on,” Eddie says after four attempts. “I really like this.”
“This is nice,” you concur. “One more test.”
Eddie turns his head to look at you in question, but it clicks soon enough as you cuddle up to his side and rest your head on his chest. It’s the exact position the two of you lay in quite frequently, and you have to make sure that this bed is accepting and supportive of that. 
“I mean, I can think of another test,” Eddie says as he wraps his arm around you. “But I don’t think they’d let us do that in the store.”
With a girlish giggle, you press a kiss to Eddie’s chest and push yourself into a seated position. 
“What’s your verdict?” you ask.
Dark chocolate eyes gaze up at the ceiling as Eddie adjusts his position on the bed once more. Then, he slips his eyes closed and rolls onto his side, which is his most common sleeping position.
“Yeah,” he says, opening his eyes. “I’m gonna go with this one.”
“And this one is…thirteen thousand dollars!” Luke calls as he and Ryan run over. Luke face plants on the bed and Ryan plops down next to his brother on his bottom. 
“He tried guessing the price of a lady’s dog,” Ryan says.
Luke lifts his head, blue eyes wide as he pulls his shoulders up towards his ears.
“She was carrying him in a little doggy bag! It looked like she was buying him!”
“This is the one you’re getting?” Ryan asks, ignoring his little brother completely. The older brother bounces slightly as he sits, testing out the springiness.
“Yep,” Eddie says as he pushes himself up from the bed. “Just have to get some sheets for it now. You two stay here and watch the cart, okay? We’re just gonna be right over there looking at the linens.”
“Okay,” Ryan says.
“Aye aye!” Luke gives his dad a salute before going to sit up near the pillows. 
Eddie laces his fingers with yours, tugging you over to where bedsheets lay wrapped in their plastic coverings. “Gonna need your help for this one, baby.”
“Eds,” you protest, “this apartment is for you and the boys. I don’t wanna—”
Your boyfriend leans in and silences you with a kiss. “While I appreciate that…you and I are gonna be the ones getting well-acquainted with these sheets. I wanna make sure you’ll be comfy laying on them…or kneeling on them.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “Don’t want those pretty knees getting scratched up while you’re riding me.”
You shove him away playfully. “Behave,” you warn, thumbing through the linen options. 
“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, though it’s hard to take that promise seriously when it’s followed by a pinch to your ass. 
Eddie grabs a set of dove gray sheets and a matching comforter from the shelf and turns to head back towards the boys. Before the two of you reach the end of the aisle though, your boyfriend stops short and looks to you with eyes wide as saucers.
“Can I get Star Wars sheets?”
As much as Eddie tries to hold in his laughter, a snort breaks though. You shake your head in bemusement as you pass him by and head towards the arguably more mature Munsons. 
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“Okay, so.” Steve stands with his hands on his hips as he addresses his two oldest kids along with Eddie’s boys. “Any box marked with this word,” he points to where FRAGILE is written in black Sharpie, “is not for kids to carry.”
Luke furrows his brow. “Why not?”
Before Steve can answer, Theo speaks up. “Because it says the F-word,” he says matter-of-factly. 
“No, it does not!” Steve sputters. 
“There’s an F right there,” Luke points out. “See?”
Steve sighs. “Yes, that is an f-word, but it says ‘fragile,’ not—never mind.” He shakes his head. “Just don’t touch it.”
Across the room, Eddie grimaces as his uncle tries to lift a coffee table. “Old man,” Eddie calls out. “Put that down before you hurt yourself. My goal is to avoid the emergency room at all costs.”
Wayne shakes his head. “I’m not just gonna stand around while everyone else works,” he protests. 
Eddie runs his fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags them on a knot. 
“I didn’t wanna have to bring out the big guns…” He grins at Wayne’s puzzled expression before calling out to his sons. “Ryan! Luke! Grandpa wants to hear all about that cartoon you’re obsessed with.”
Luke bounds over with Ryan right behind him. “Okay, so there’s a cat and a dog, but they’re stuck together where their butts would be!” He cackles at this. 
“And Cat is scared all the time, but Dog is crazy,” Ryan chimes in. “And he’s always getting Cat into trouble.”
Eddie throws his uncle a wink, a silent I warned you, and slides his arm around your waist. 
“Thank God for shitty kids’ shows,” he murmurs. 
You roll your eyes. “Pretty sure I’ve caught you watching that ‘shitty kids’ show’ on more than one occasion. Even without the boys there.”
Pressing a smacking kiss to your temple, Eddie whirls around to see Lucas, Max, and Dustin struggling with the sofa. “That’ll stay our little secret,” he says before darting off to help them. 
A few hours later, once the moving van has been unloaded and furniture and boxes have been placed in their respective rooms, the whole group finds themselves in the living room. The youngest Munsons sit on the floor next to their Uncle Dustin. Wayne rests on the couch, sandwiched between Eddie and Steve. You, Lucas, and Max pull up some folding chairs. Each of you has a slice of pizza on a paper towel, since no one wanted to unpack the plates. 
Pressing on his knees, Eddie stands up. “Before we dig in, I’d just like to offer a toast.” He raises his beer bottle, and everyone does the same—root beer for the boys, of course. “To the best moving crew this town has ever seen. May we never have to do this again.”
Everyone nods in agreement, bottles clinking before the room goes quiet. The only noise is the sound of pizza being devoured. 
You look at Eddie, trading exhausted smiles. Today was long, but it was one huge step closer to your future together. No matter how strongly sleep beckoned you, you wouldn’t trade this for the world. 
Once all that remains of the pizzas are the few crusts left behind in the box, everyone starts to head out. Eddie makes sure to thank each of them again when they say their goodbyes. 
Wayne is the last one there besides you and the boys. The older man yanks his keys free from his back pocket and jingles them in his hand as he walks towards the front door.
“This is a nice place you got here, Ed.”
It doesn’t matter how old he is, hearing praise from Wayne still makes Eddie feel like a little boy making his father proud. He can’t help but smile as he shuffles over to his uncle.
“It is pretty nice, isn’t it?” Eddie looks around, taking in the dark green walls that he can’t wait to fill up with silly photos of the boys and pictures of your beautiful face to greet him every morning. A blank slate, his to do what he wants with.
“I’m proud of ya, son,” Wayne says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “You were dealt a rough hand but you’re making it through alright.”
“Doing my best,” Eddie admits with a shrug.
“That’s all anyone can,” Wayne says. “I’ll see you later, kid. Where my boys?”
As if waiting for their cue, both Luke and Ryan rush at Wayne, arms open and ready to receive their goodbye hugs.
“Bye, Grandpa!” Ryan says as he’s squeezed in the older man’s arms.
“Remember,” Luke says when it’s his turn to get hugged, “Catdog is on Nickelodeon, not Cartoon Network.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Wayne says with a hearty chuckle. Next, those wise blue-gray eyes are aimed your way and before you even realize it, you’re going in for a hug. 
Being hugged by Wayne is like cuddling up with a cherished childhood teddy bear after you’ve had a bad day. It feels safe, warm, and loving. It’s as obvious as Luke’s love for Hot Wheels where Eddie learned how to be a good father. Wayne might like to make people think he’s rough around the edges, but you’ve learned in a short time that he’s Mr. Softy when it comes to anything involving his family. But who can blame him when his family is Eddie, Luke, and Ryan?
“You take care, doll,” Wayne says, giving you a soft pat on the back before pulling away. “And let me know if any of these three get out of line.”
“Us?” Luke asks, voice an octave higher than usual as he gestures to himself. “Never!”
“Uh huh,” Wayne hums with a rumbling laugh. He ruffles the smallest boy’s curls before heading out the door. 
You, Eddie, and the boys leave a few minutes later—not without arguing with Luke about using the bathroom. Ryan and Luke climb into the backseat, and after double-checking that they’re securely buckled in, you slide into the passenger seat. 
Eddie shifts the gears from park to reverse, and you keep your hand atop his. The ride back to Brittany’s is fairly quiet, with no bickering from the brothers. Apparently, a long day of unpacking boxes and bothering their grandpa has worn them out. 
It isn’t until you’re a few blocks away from the house that Luke speaks up. 
“Dad, what’s for dinner tonight?”
Eddie keeps his eyes on the road as he answers. “You’re, uh, gonna have to ask Mom about that,” he says evenly. 
“Can you ask her not to make fish sticks? I hate those.”
A lump forms in Eddie’s throat. He thought the boys both understood what the living situation was going to be. Sometimes it’s easy to forget Luke is only five with the larger than life personality he has or that Ryan is only seven when Eddie’s pretty positive the kid is smarter than he is. Eddie silently prays that he won’t have to explain the separation time and time again because he doesn’t think he has the strength to repeatedly let his sons down. Because that’s what he’s doing, right? Breaking their little hearts by telling them things are changing whether they like it or not.
It seems like aspects of it they like—like you being around more and being their father’s girlfriend. But it’s hard for them to grasp that in order for that to happen, they have to have Mom live in one place and Daddy in another. Eddie’s sure that the three of them not all waking up in the same house everyday is killing him more than it is them.
“Luke, buddy,” Eddie starts. “I’m not eating dinner with you tonight. We’ll eat dinner together when you stay at my place.”
Ryan leans forward. “Is Mom gonna eat with us there, too?”
You catch the sadness in Eddie’s face. The two of you know that it isn’t healthy for the boys to grow up in a home with parents who don’t want to be together, but that doesn’t mean the divorce is easy. You give Eddie’s hand a small squeeze of support.
“Guys, Mom and I don’t live together anymore. She lives at the house, and I live at the apartment.”
“Oh.” Realization hits Ryan. “So…you and Mom are gonna be separate forever?”
Forever. Eddie had promised Brittany forever that day at the altar, and now they’d reached a much different definition of that word. 
It’s funny how the same word is so full of promise and excitement, blooming with life and warmth when he says it to you, but shriveled up and desiccated when presented by his sons in this context.
“Yeah. That’s what happens when people get divorced—they stop living together. But you will always have a home at Mom’s, and you’ll always have a home with me. They just won’t be the same home.”
There’s only silence as Luke and Ryan process the information. Neither you nor Eddie are used to them being so quiet; the million follow-up questions you’d anticipated never arise. 
The floodgates burst when Eddie pulls into Brittany’s driveway, before the seatbelts can even be unfastened. 
“I d-don’t wanna leave!” Luke cries, tugging his knees to his chest. “I don’t want Dad to live at the ‘partment!”
Your heart lurches. There’s nothing to say or do—he’s disappointed, and rightfully so. As much as you love Eddie, as glad as you are that he’s yours, you wish he and his sons didn’t have to deal with the pain of this divorce. 
Eddie helps Luke out of the car, then Ryan. The older boy is fighting back tears of his own. 
“I know this change is hard,” Eddie says to both kids, “but we’ll get used to it. I promise.”
Luke shakes his head, his curly mop of hair tangling. “No! I don’t wanna get used to it! I want you to live here again!”
“I know,” Eddie repeats, exhaling. “I wish I could make it easier.” He kisses each of his boys on the forehead and turns to you. 
Ryan and Luke follow his gaze. They look even younger, smaller somehow, when they’re sad. All you want is to protect them from all of the bad in the world. 
You open up your arms, enveloping them in a hug. “We’ll see you guys super soon, okay?”
It isn’t okay, and you’re sure Luke is about to tell you that. But then the front door swings open. 
“Good, you boys are home. Wait. What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Brittany looks from the heartbroken boys in your arms over to Eddie in question. She doesn’t give anyone a chance to reply before her eyes snap back to the boys and she demands, “What’s wrong? Luke?”
The five-year-old turns out of your arms and buries his face in his father’s t-shirt. His small sniffles and sobs are heart wrenching, and you find yourself holding onto Ryan a little tighter out of reflex. Ryan rests his head against your body. The feeling of his shoulders heaving dials up your instinct to comfort, so you card your fingers through the boy’s honey brown curls.
Eddie is doing his best to comfort Luke as well. One ringed hand rubs up and down Luke’s small back, while the other cups the back of the boy's head as he cries. The pain lashing through your heart is nearly unbearable—you can’t even begin to imagine how bad it is for Eddie. 
“He was a little confused about having two places to live now,” Eddie explains to Brittany. “He, uh, doesn’t want me living at the apartment.” 
Brittany, to your surprise, stays quiet. She simply nods her head and crosses her arms over her chest. 
“Do you want to go inside, Luke?” Ryan speaks up from your arms, standing up straight so he’s no longer leaning against you for support.
Still sniffling, Luke turns from Eddie’s torso and nods at his big brother, his left fist coming up to rub at his eye. 
Ryan nods and steps out of the circle of your arms to offer his little brother his hand. Luke grips it tightly, like it’s a lifeline and he’s scared Ryan is going to be the next one to live somewhere else. 
The two make their way into the house and the gazes of you three adults on the porch follow them until they’re out of sight. 
Letting out a pained sigh, Eddie rubs his hands over his face. He hardly gets those two seconds of reprieve because Brittany immediately snarls at him.
“So, you just explained it all to him without me? Without even telling me?”
The look you register on Eddie’s face first is shock, but it disappears after half a second, used to this insanity and savagery from his ex.
“What did you want me to do?” Eddie sounds exhausted. Mentally, now, in addition to physically from moving furniture all day. “He was upset, did you want me to have him hold on so I could have you come over to the apartment? Get into the car with us?” 
She probably wouldn’t have anyway, you say to yourself.
“Now I have to deal with him being upset,” Brittany complains.
You’re seeing red. The world is painted in crimsons and scarlets and it’s a good thing Eddie speaks up first, because something would’ve come out of your mouth that you would’ve ended up regretting later. 
“He’s your son,” Eddie argues, seething anger present in his voice as well. “That’s part of your job. You should want to comfort him when he’s upset.”
With one last roll of her eyes and a loud scoff, Brittany steps back into the house and slams the front door behind her. 
Eddie takes a few breaths before he lets out a pained chuckle and turns away from the house.
“I hate her so fucking much,” he says. 
Your boyfriend takes a deep breath and turns to you. The pain in his eyes steals the breath from your lungs. That agony morphs into a look you can’t interpret at first. No, it’s still pain, just a different kind. He speaks up before you can ask about it.
“This shit isn’t easy,” he says. The tone of his voice makes it click for you. Part of him thinks you’re going to walk away from all of this. Now that the emotions are raw on a different level, he thinks you’re going to change your mind about this. About him. 
But he’s crazier than Brittany is if he thinks you’re going to leave his side for even a moment.
“I know,” you answer him with a shrug of your shoulders. “But I’m not going anywhere, Eds. I’m here for you—all three of you.”
The plug is pulled on that pain and worry, and it all disappears down the drain to make room for the love and gratefulness that fills him up now. A small smile even curls one corner of his mouth up.
“Have I told you that I love you lately?” he asks.
“Not in the last…” you peer down at your watch before meeting his gaze once more, “hour or so. So, I think you’re due.”
Eddie steps forwards and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I love you,” he whispers. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
His voice faltered slightly on the word “home,” but you don’t let him dwell on that. You slip your arm around his waist and start walking towards the car. “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Eddie says as the two of you step into the driveway, “I got that bottle of champagne I bought for your birthday that I left at the Harrington’s. Figured it could be used to celebrate the new place. But, shit, I think I’m going to need something a whole lot stronger than champagne when we get back.”
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498 notes · View notes
heizlut · 9 months ago
Note
Jealousy pt 2 😍 (I love ur writing sm omgz..) (have a good day/night)
i’m sooo sorry i’m just now getting to this. this request and the others before this one were made when i was getting my life together after my breakup but i’m here now! thank you so much, i’m so happy you love my writing❤️❤️ since you didn’t specify specific characters, this one will be with cyno, wanderer, ayato, and heizou☺�� (i never write for them and they need to be shown some love)
cw: none!
tags: multiple chars x reader (separate), lowkey yandere!ayato, fem!reader
read part 1 here!
m!list here
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Cyno~
You and Cyno had been together for so long now. It had started when you were introduced through Tighnari, who had taken you on as his newest assistant after hearing about how you made the top of your class in the same darshan Tighnari graduated from a few of years prior. Tighnari would go on and on about how much easier his research has been since you became his assistant until Cyno had enough and demanded to meet you. Cyno hates to admit it, but it was practically love at first sight. Not only were you a strong fighter with good instincts when you needed to be, you were also whole-heartedly passionate for what you held interest in.
Cyno had asked you and Tighnari to take a break from research to join him for TCG night at the tavern, to which you both agreed. Once arriving to the tavern, you three take your usual table and get set up for the match. Drinks were ordered to the table and the heated match began. When it came to playing TCG with Cyno, the matches either ended swiftly or he would purposefully draw them out just to win in the end. Somehow, over the course of the match, you and Tighnari ended up helping each other here and there with, whispering in each other's ears about strategies for your next moves.
Cyno watched the two of you, not particularly enjoying how physically close you two were getting as you both snickered and whispered to each other. He did his best to keep his cool until Tighnari's fingers grazed yours as he turned your deck towards him to guide you on your next move. You paid no mind to it, but Cyno could feel the possessed spirit within him practically clawing its way out of his body, looking for a fight. Tighnari was the first to notice the subtle flashes of purple light that began to linger around Cyno's body, a clear sign that the spirit was trying to take over, "Um, Cyno?"
Tighnari's concerned tone made you look up from your cards to see the sight before you. Your smile slips into one of concern and you get up from the table and move towards Cyno's spot, "How about we take a break and get some fresh air? Just you and me..." Cyno's red eyes seem to flash as they meet yours, but all he does is nod. You give an apologetic smile to Tighnari who just nods in understanding. You and Cyno step outside into the sticky, hot night. You reach up with both hands, placing them lightly on his tanned cheeks, "Cyno, love... Tell me what's wrong?"
The sweet, soft sound of your voice, your gentle touch, and the way you were looking at him with such love and concern put the possessed spirit to rest. He looks into your eyes and sighs, not one to admit his emotions let alone jealousy, "I don't want to talk about it at the moment." His tone monotone as usual, but the look in his eyes held a hint of longing, "As much as I hate to say this, let's forget about the match and go home...please." You kiss the tip of his nose, making his cheeks go a light shade of red, "Alright. Let's gather our things and say goodbye to our friend."
Wanderer~
Ever since Wanderer regained his memories, Nahida had asked you to keep an eye on him. You two hardly got along until one night, months ago, he kissed you. He likes to say it was a temporary moment of weakness, but you knew better. Ever since then, you two have been almost inseparable as you helped him with Akademiya projects or wandered through Sumeru.
On this particular afternoon, you had resigned yourself to the House of Daena with a male student you couldn't remember the name of for the life of you. He approached you knowing that you always helped Wanderer get the best grades on his project and promised to pay you handsomely if you could help him as well. You shrugged and agreed, not denying the chance to earn such a nice amount of mora.
Wanderer was pissed when he couldn't find you until he entered the House Of Daena. He felt ready to explode when he saw you sitting so close to that random guy, seemingly laughing at something he had said while you reached over (a little too close in Wanderer's opinion), making a correction on the guy's paper. You look up with surprise which turns to the cutest smile when you see Wanderer approach the table, completely unaware of just how pissed off he was. The foul look on Wanderer's face didn't go unnoticed by the guy you were working with who now had a subtle smirk on his face.
Wanderer's eyebrows furrow as he clenches his fist, "I suggest you wipe that stupid smirk off your face and walk away now while you still can." You blink once in confusion. Your eyes flitting between the guy and your boyfriend, "What are you going on about now?" Wanderer's frustrated gaze falls to you, his demeanor almost cracks when he sees how cute and oblivious you look. Then his gaze returns to the guy who hasn't made a single move to leave, "I gave you a warning already. Don't make me repeat myself or you won't have legs to walk away with."
The guy puts his hands up defensively and takes his stuff, only leaving half the amount he had promised to pay you as he walks away grumbling to himself. You look up at Wanderer, your initial shock morphing into quiet laughter that you tried so hard to hold in. He plops himself into the seat next to you, shooting you a glare, "What's so funny?" The childlike angry pout on his face made it hard to contain your laughter, "Are you jealous right now?" Wanderer looks like you just said the greatest insult, but the redness of his cheeks give away how embarrassed he is, "Yeah, right. As if I'd be jealous of a weak nobody." You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, which makes him blush up to his ears, "Whatever you say~"
Ayato~
You were so precious to Ayato. He simply cannot imagine his life without you. You were smart, strong, and so sweet; he couldn't ever get enough of you. It wasn't really a secret how close Ayato kept you. Honestly he was a bit too obsessed with you, but that's part of what made you fall for him in the first place. Wherever he was, you were too. Except for today.
Today you had spent most of your day with Aether helping him with a commission he had insisted he needed your guidance on. Of course, you had asked Ayato from permission first. That's just how your relationship was and you didn't mind it one bit. Ayato was a bit wary of sending you off without him being by your side, but Aether insisted he would keep you safe and he knew you were capable of handling yourself. So, begrudgingly, Ayato agreed but made you promise to be back before nightfall, dragging you in for an over the top kiss to your lips.
Hours had gone by and Ayato felt he was about to go insane without you by his side. He gets up from his desk and begins pacing the estate, bringing on questioning looks from the guards and groundskeepers. It's not long until he hears one of the guards by the main gate give his greeting. It takes Ayato so much restraint to keep himself from practically storming over to you and taking you into his arms. Aether was still with you, and Ayato had an image to upkeep. What he didn't expect to see was Aether holding you as if you were his bride as he entered the grounds. "What is the meaning of this?", Ayato demands as he quickly approaches the two of you.
You stir in Aether's arms, turning your head to give Ayato a tired smile before your eyes close once again. Ayato is absolutely furious as he practically rips you out of Aether's arms, making you let out a sleepy groan, "You have three seconds to explain why you have brought her home in such a state, in your arms no less." You nuzzle into Ayato's chest and Aether releases a breath, "We got dragged into a fight with some Kairagi." If Ayato hadn't been holding you tightly in his arms, he would have drawn his sword to Aether's throat. Sensing the immense anger, Aether raises his hands defensively, "Don't worry, she doesn't have a single scratch on her. I think she just passed out from exhaustion."
Ayato looks down at your beautiful sleeping face, then glares up at Aether, "Do you mean to tell me you checked her body for scratches? I've heard enough. Please exit quickly before I do something I may come to regret." Aether looks sincerely apologetic as he leaves the estate and Ayato carries you to your shared bedroom. Once he lays you on the bed, he gets in and immediately holds you as if you were going to disappear right in front of his eyes. Ayato nuzzles into your hair, breathing in your scent, speaking softly so as to not wake you, "I will not allow any man to touch you nor allow you to leave my presence ever again."
Heizou~
Everyone knew you were Detective Heizou's girlfriend. He would never shut up about you, going on and on about how you're almost just as bright as he is when it comes to solving cases. It also takes a lot for him to feel jealousy with the big ego he has. How could anyone be better than him? That would be absurd and simply out of the question. But one person seems to put him on edge despite both of you being so close to him: Kazuha.
There was something about Kazuha's easy-going and free-spirited nature that made Heizou want to pay close attention to the way you and him acted while in each other's presence. It wasn't that he didn't trust you or Kazuha, he just had this unfamiliar feeling that bubbled up inside of him whenever he would see you laugh together or be near each other. The night stars were shining brightly as the three of you laid on an empty cliff, away from the main city of Inazuma. You were laying between both boys as you admired the twinkling stars. You and Kazuha were going on and on about the constellations, recalling the mythology behind them with such passion and romanticism. You and Kazuha were very similar in that aspect. Everything to you both had a sense of romance to it which Heizou normally found endearing, but not in this moment.
Kazuha was telling you the story behind Orion's constellation as you listened with great intrigue. Heizou was growing jealous of the conversation and the way you kept looking from Kazuha and back up to the stars. Heizou wanted you to do that for him. You were his girlfriend for fucks sake, not Kazuha's. So he makes a quick decision, grabbing your hand to get your attention, effectively cutting Kazuha off from his story-telling by butting in, "I know of an even better story." You and Kazuha look to Heizou, confused but interested. Heizou clears his throat and begins telling a tale of a god who gave up his power for a human girl he had fallen for just so that he could be with her. When he finishes, you and Kazuha share a look and you speak up first, "Did you just make that up?"
Heizou's face heats up and he frowns, looking away from you both which makes you laugh, "Why are you pouting? It was a cute story, love." Kazuha tries his best not to laugh which only makes Heizou more annoyed, "Why is it that you can romance my girlfriend but I can't?" Now both you and Kazuha begin to laugh, not at Heizou, but of the absurdity of his statement. Now furious with jealousy, Heizou moves to get up from his spot, but you grab hold of his hand, giving him a silly smile, "You don't need to 'romance' me with silly stories, I much prefer your ramblings when you're going on about a case." Heizou's expression relaxes, but still huffs out a breath, "Then quit getting all gooey with him over those balls of gas in the sky." Kazuha finds this to be the perfect opportunity to crack a joke, "Would you prefer we discuss other types of balls instead?" This makes Heizou's demeanor crack completely as laughter from all three of you fills the night air.
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a/n: writing this made me realize i actually love writing for ayato! he gives serious yandere vibes but in the best way. i hope you liked this anon❤️
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sweetbans29 · 6 months ago
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Teach Me: The Art of Practice (iv) - PB
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Previous Part & Next Part
Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.
Warnings: mature, angsty
Word Count: 2.9k
Sweetbans Masterlist & Teach Me Masterlist
AN: A little filler - more lessons to come soon.
Paige was all you could think about. And if you were to ask her, you were all Paige could think about. Yet neither of you said a single word about it.
After your last lesson, Paige had to excuse herself before continuing on with life.
"Alright ma, imma need you to stop right there before I do something you aren't ready for," Paige says as she pulls you up towards her. Your face now hovering over hers. Given your current state and hearing Paige moan your name - you weren't ready to end.
You just stare down at Paige. Before you know it, you are leaning in and connecting your lips with hers.
She is shocked at first, but seeing as to how turned on she is, kisses you back and immediately establishes dominance.
You moan into her mouth and she moves your legs to straddle her. She slowly sits up, not breaking the kiss. Your hands make their way to tug on Paige's hair causing her to struggle to maintain dominance. Using the opportunity, you begin to fight for dominance as you ever so slightly begin to grind down on the girl's hips.
Paige is fed up with how good you are at turning her on and decides to really take manners into her own hands. She removes her lips from yours and begins to work them down your neck, spending extra time on the spot she found right under your ear.
"Paige," you breathe out, now grinding harder on her trying to relieve any of the building pressure in your core. "Babe, don't stop."
Paige's senses are overloaded with you - removing any and all sense she has remaining. She takes one of her hands and lowers your bra straps, kissing down your shoulder and to your chest.
It is on the next throaty groan that reminds her this is all for a lesson and you aren't hers for the taking. Not yet at least.
Paige begins to slow down with the kisses and leans her head on your shoulder - steadying her breathing.
"Why'd you stop?" You ask before you are able to stop yourself. You feel her chuckle underneath you.
"Such a good student, babe but can't overwhelm you or you'll forget everything," Paige says, knowing full-well it is complete BS.
You don't push it and nod. The two of you stay in the same position for a minute. Paige then puts her hands on your hips, giving them a little squeeze before plopping you on the bed beside her.
She gets up and starts to make her way from your room.
"Where are you going B?" You ask and Paige's mind makes a connection.
She realizes that you only use her first name (which you would never do since coining the nickname 'B') when she had you really riled up. You would say her name and that became thrilling to her. She would try and elicit it every chance she gets moving forward.
"I need to go take care of myself babe," she says giving you a smirk. "You did such a great job turning me on that now I have to go finish it."
You blush immediately and watch the girl walk out of your room.
Now the two of you are sitting on the couch of your apartment with half of the team. They invited themselves over and decided that a movie night was in order. They had no knowledge of the compromising position Paige had you in nearly an hour before their arrival.
The girls decided on the fast and furious movies, which always meant you were watching at least two of them. Nika put on the 4th one which no one complained about and now you are all sprawled out in your living room snacking and watching.
You are posted up between Azzi and Nika - leaning on Azzi's shoulder. You made sure to not sit right next to Paige, not trusting yourself.
Paige on the other hand was in one of the recliners. Every minute or so, she found herself glancing over at you. Not that you noticed, but Azzi did.
Paige's eyes would shift to you and then she would adjust in the recliner. Azzi got sick of it and tried to pull Paige's gaze to her. When she finally makes eye contact with Azzi, Azzi gives P the 'stop staring' eyes. Paige just shrugs and crosses her arms. She wants you in the recliner with her.
The first movie wraps up and you can feel yourself getting sleepy. Everyone gets up to grab more snacks and use the restroom. You go and grab a sweatshirt - finding the closest one to you in your room which just so happened to be Paige's. You throw it over your head and let it swallow you up.
When you make your way back, you see Nika has shifted over to where you were sitting and Evina took Nika's spot. You stand for a second before looking over at Paige in the recliner with both arms open, inviting you into her. You inhale and make your way over to your best friend.
You crawl on top of her and curl up with your head on her chest. Paige's arms wrap around you and you make some final adjustments to get comfortable. None of this phasing the girls on the couch one bit.
It is halfway through the movie and you feel yourself nodding off. Paige can tell you are fighting sleep and kisses the top of your head.
"Go to sleep love, it's okay." She says in your ear as she rubs your back. You stop fighting it and allow the much-needed sleep come over you.
The movie finishes and the girls begin cleaning up. Paige never minded hosting knowing all the girls always clean up after themselves. When Paige didn't make a move to help - it caught everyone's eye.
"Bro, you are whipped," Evina says looking down at Paige rubbing your sleeping back.
"I am not - she's my best friend," Paige says making sure she is not talking too loud. She doesn't want to wake you.
"You are wrapped around her finger, there is no trying to hide it," Azzi says with a smile, knowing the full extent of Paige's love for you.
Paige knows she could fight this but also knows that they are right, right as she is about to respond, you begin to stir.
Paige continues to rub circles on your back as your eyes flutter open.
"Is the movie over?" You ask, voice groggy and eyes half closed.
"It is," Paige says in the softest voice. "The girls are about to head out, do you want to say bye?" She says looking up.
You look and see all the girls looking at you in Paige's arms. You can't help but blush and hide your face in Paige's chest causing all the girls to let out 'awws' and coos. You put your hand up and wave at them as they say their goodbyes.
Once they all leave, you prop yourself up on Paige. One hand on the recliner, the other on her stomach to stabilize yourself. You yawn and fall right back into your best friend's arms. Paige lets out a breathy laugh.
"You gonna move so we can go to bed?" She says expecting you to get up and not go right back to where you were.
"Too comfy," you say and nuzzle your face into her with a hum.
Paige can't help but fall more in love with you in these moments.
Her hand comes up to brush some of the hair out of your face and you look up and let out a content sigh.
You hadn't told Paige yet but you ended up not going on the second date with the girl from your class. She was nice but you learned she wasn't what you wanted. You couldn't have what you wanted. And you didn't want the lessons to stop so you opted to keep quiet. Something was better than nothing right?
You are looking into Paige's eyes and can't help but think what this would be like if you admitted your feelings to the girl. Would she reciprocate them? Would she tell you she has loved you as long as you loved her? Or would she run? Say you are nothing but a friend and cause the biggest heartbreak of your life?
Paige is looking down at you, hand still playing with your hair. She could get used to this. Up to this point, she has never wanted to be in a relationship with anyone. She was completely content hooking up with girls when she needed a fix and then coming back to your friendship. But the more she thought about it and the closer she got to you - it had her questioning settling down and making you hers.
Her thumb comes up to rub your cheek and your heartbeat picks up.
Your mind begins to stir.
Your hand comes up to grasp hers, removing it from your face. As you do so you adjust yourself, no longer curling up on her but laying with your stomach on hers. You place the hand that you were holding on your waist, bringing yours back up to cup her neck moving it enough to allow the access you want.
Your lips meet her neck in a gentle kiss, instantly having her craving more. You kiss up her neck to the base of her earlobe, kissing it before bringing it between your lips giving it a little suck.
Paige lets out the most beautiful moan as you feel her fingers tighten their grip around your waist.
"What...what are you doing ma?" She asks, barely able to get the words out before another moan escapes her mouth as you continue to work on her neck.
"You know," you say in between kisses. Hand coming down to the hem of her shirt lifting it just enough to run your fingertips over her torso. "Your moans are like music to my ears."
You begin to kiss your way up to her lips. Right before you reach her lips you pause. Not looking in her eyes, only at her lips.
"How am I doing, 'ma'?" You ask in a borderline teasing tone and use the pet name that would fall from her lips.
It was her turn to bite her lip. You shake your head no.
"If I can't do it, neither can you." You say bringing her lip out from her bite. "And for the record, I just wanted to practice."
You sit up and make your way out of the chair and towards your room.
"You coming to bed, B?" You say innocently like you just didn't turn her on faster than any other girl she has been with.
Paige gets up without a word and follows you into your bedroom.
In the next few days, you and Paige are back to normal. Hanging out with the team, practicing, bugging one another. It was nice. It was normal.
It is game day and the team is in the gym getting ready. You are at your desk reviewing some last-minute plays when Geno comes in and tells you to get out there with the team.
You head to the floor and watch the girls warm up. The game begins and the team is playing extremely well. They are up in the 4th when Paige is hit in the face by a girl from the other team. She falls to the ground holding her face.
You freeze - panic setting in. She stands up and slowly makes her way to the bench, knowing they won't let her play with blood on her face.
Geno is arguing with the ref as you do the same. You hear your name called but ignore it until Azzi comes up and grabs your arm.
"Paige keeps pushing the medic away - will you?" Azzi says as her head nods in the direction of Paige swatting the medic's hand away from her face. You roll your eyes and make your way over.
"B, get your ass over here." You say as you dawn a glove and grab a tissue.
"She flat out hit me in the face and they are calling it a common foul! That is absolute trash!" She says but still makes her way to you.
You put the tissue on her nose and she hits your hand away.
You give her a look, knowing the look will do more than any words could. She stops moving and stands there. You put the tissue up to her nose and hold it there, looking past her at Geno and the refs. When you turn your attention back to the girl in front of you, you see her eyes are closed. She looks peaceful at this moment like she isn't in the middle of a game and didn't just get hit in the face.
Your hand removes the tissue from her nose and you grab her chin, examining her face. Her eyes remain closed only opening when you reach around and tap her ass.
"You're good to go B," you say sending her on her way, only she doesn't move.
"B, go," you say and gesture towards the court.
Paige hesitates before doing her little jump and steps toward the court but not before her hand finds your waist, giving it the all-too-familiar squeeze. Your breath hitches and you shoot her a look.
The team goes on to win the game. Everyone is super excited and decides to go out to a bar to celebrate. You only go because the team insists and you can't say no to the girls.
While the team is out, you decide to have a dry night. The last thing you want is to be trying to corral a group of tipsy girls.
You are sipping a sprite when you hear loud giggling come from your right.
Paige is whispering in a girl's ear causing her to giggle. You try not to pay it any attention but you see the girl's hand come up to Paige's chest and play with her hair.
It makes you sick. Yet, you can't take your eyes off of them. You take another sip of your drink as you watch Paige's hands come up to the girl's waist - a feeling you have grown to crave.
Paige says something in the girl's ear that causes her to nod rapidly and allow Paige to take her hand, leading her away from the bar.
Your stomach drops and you feel your eyes become wet.
'This is so stupid' you think to yourself as you watch them go towards the bathrooms.
You drop some money at the bar, grab your jacket - not wanting to be anywhere near this place, and let one of the girls know you are heading home. Before you reach the door, you feel the first tear fall. Your hand comes up to wipe it away before anyone can see and you make your way home.
To your lack of knowledge, your tears didn't go unseen. Azzi was watching you the whole time Paige was talking to the girl at the bar. Azzi knew the second you heard the giggle that Paige drew from the girl, it would hit your ears. Azzi saw how your demeanor changed when you saw Paige and how you left just as they were heading to the bathroom. Azzi was the only person to see your tears fall as you walked out. She is also the only person in the world who knows that Paige is completely and utterly in love with you.
Paige eventually emerges and finds Azzi. The first thing she does is ask where you are.
"She left..." Azzi says.
"Why? Where did she go?" Paige asks.
Azzi gives Paige a look and Paige knows that you saw her take a girl back. Paige puts the water in her hand and begins to make her way out of the bar.
"Paige!" Azzi yells and catches up to her.
"Let me go, I am going home," Paige says wanting to find you.
Azzi lets out a sigh, not sure what Paige is going to do.
"Maybe you should just give her some space," Azzi says, not wanting to completely out the state that you left in.
"Space?" Paige laughs. "You know better than anyone that I don't want space, especially when it comes to her."
Azzi loves Paige but also knows how big of an idiot Paige can be.
"I am going home and I am spending the rest of the night with my girl," Paige says, completely forgetting she just had her tongue and hands on someone who was most definitely not you.
Just as Paige is about to walk out, Azzi puts her hand up to stop Paige. Right as Paige is about to protest and give some sort of speech she is confused when she sees Azzi's hand come to her shirt.
Paige stands there, as Azzi fixes the mismatched buttons on Paige's shirt then lets the girl go.
Azzi watches her friend go. She sighs and takes a long sip of her drink. She didn't fix the shirt for Paige. She fixed it for you, she couldn't bear the thought of more tears falling over some dumb decision by Paige.
AN: The plot thickens...are you hooked yet? Let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙
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tradgedyinwaves · 1 month ago
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First Choice - Part 10
Part ten of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: reader hurts her own feelings for a bit, Price is the tiniest bit toxic (like you gotta squint real fucking hard)
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You were determined not to think of the four men who, at least for a weekend, made you feel like the center of their universe. It wasn’t like every little thing reminded you of one of them. How they had ingrained themselves so solidly into your head over the span of two days, you would never know. But it was a gnawing feeling. 
You’d wanted to listen to them explain it away, explain why they showed up to the gala you just happened to be at with these pretty little things on their arms. Or why only Johnny seemed to fight for you. 
But you were tired of excuses, tired of reasons why you weren’t good enough. It was just easier to be alone. It didn’t matter that your phone had been blowing up since you’d closed the door on them that night. It didn’t matter when your phone suddenly stopped vibrating against the couch one evening, a week out from that dreadful gala. 
Another week and there were no new messages. You supposed they finally got the idea that you didn’t want to see them (even if you were lying to yourself). 
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Somewhere in the rainforest of South America, Task Force 141 sat around a small fire, each one grumbly and grumpy. They’d been sent out for a reconnaissance mission, gathering intel on some sex trafficker and now they were currently waiting for evac, one that wouldn’t come for another few hours with the way the storm above them was raging. 
“I just hope she read the messages. I’d hate for her to think we gave up,” Soap sighed, exasperated from not knowing if you had read them.
“When we get back, we’ll get her to listen. Explain everything,” Price drawled, making a grumbling sound in his chest as he adjusted in his seat against the bottom of a tree. 
“It’s not like we gave her any reason to listen to us,” Gaz reasoned, eating through his MRE for the night. Ghost stayed silent, whittling away at a piece of wood and tossing the scraps into the fire. “We spent a single weekend with her, only talked to her through texts for the rest of the week and then showed up with other women to a gala. It doesn’t matter if we knew what was going on, she didn’t because we didn’t explain.” 
They all sighed and nodded, each thinking on their own part in the misunderstanding. 
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After three weeks, you had convinced yourself that you had forgotten them, left them in the past. After your phone had been quiet for a few days, you read through them all, letting yourself feel the pain of not listening to them before deleting them. The last message had come from John. 
“We’re going to be out of town for a few weeks and when we come back, you will let us explain.” 
It was very forward, blunt, like you had no choice in whether or not you would listen to them. You didn’t like that, being told what to do, but at this point, if they were still fighting for your attention when they came back…well, who were you to keep denying them? 
Which was why you found yourself at the same table you’d spent the first night with them at, nursing your second glass of whiskey as you waited for them to show. You’d arrived much too early, but had wanted to get a drink in you before you were forced into the impending conversation. 
They arrived five minutes before the set meeting time, each stopping by the bar to order their drinks before sliding into the booth. You sat at the back of the round booth, John directly to your left with Kyle on his other side and Ghost to your right, with Johnny on his other side (mainly in an effort to keep the more excitable man from crawling into your lap and begging you to forgive them). 
Looking up from your glass, your gaze turned to John as you raised a brow. It was a silent invitation for them to get on with it. The thing was, now that they sat there in front of you, they didn’t know how to say what they needed to. Except Ghost, apparently.
“We’re military, luv. We were deployed for a few weeks, hence the silence. But I - we know that isn’t why you’re upset. That gala…” You flinched slightly, not enjoying the reminder of the night. “We were undercover. Those women you saw with us, they’re other soldiers trained for those types of missions.” 
Your gaze had settled on the man, noting the lack of balaclava that was replaced with a black medical mask. It was the most of his face that you’d ever seen, silver and pink scars littering his face that you could see under the hood of his jacket. 
“We can’t say much more than that. But we do want you to know that our interest is genuine,” John continued for Ghost, finally finding his words. “We’d like to spend more time with you while we’re around. We will leave for deployments, sometimes they last months, and we know it isn’t fair to ask that of you. But if you’re willing to have us, we’d put in the effort and you’d never want for anything else.” 
They all were staring at you now. Ghost with a look of understanding, but also a sort of defeat already filtering in. John and Kyle managed to keep their faces neutral but they couldn’t stop the hopeful look in their eyes. Johnny had amazingly managed to stay quiet, but the look on his face was like an expectant dog, begging for a treat. 
You sighed, taking a long drink from your glass before setting it down on the coaster.
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Next part is the last one. This took on a life of it's own and while I loved writing this little series, I think I'm going to focus on pairings of 3 or less people for a bit.
<- Part 9 Part 11 ->
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a-reader-and-a-writer · 4 months ago
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I Don't Understand You
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader Summary: Although your lives are very different, you and Tyler have been happily together for years. However, when a new girl arrives, Tyler can't seem to focus on anything else. This Kate seems to understand him in a way you never could and you start to wonder if loving someone really means letting them go... Word Count: 4386 TW: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Breakup, Makeup, Tears Notes: Huge thanks to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for beta reading this for me and to the anon who made this request 💕 SPOILERS FOR TWISTERS
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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You noticed the change in him the moment they met.
Usually, you weren’t involved in Tyler’s chases but for some reason that day, you decided to meet the crew at a diner for lunch between storms. You had to fight your way through the crowd of adoring fans hovering around his truck before being able to greet him with a big kiss and warm embrace. As always, he kissed you back before slinging his arm over your shoulder. But as the two of you began walking towards the diner door, chatting about what he had gotten up to that morning, he trailed off, his attention now fully on the crew huddled around the Strom Par trucks. 
You didn’t know any of those guys by name but had been around enough to recognize their faces—all but one. There was a new girl with them who was studying a tablet and glancing up at the darkening sky. She was pretty, but you didn’t see anything particularly notable about her. You turned to ask Tyler who she was, but before you could, he strolled off in that direction without a word leaving you standing with your hand on the door to the diner unsure what you were supposed to do.
Part of you thought you should go inside and order both of you lunch so it would be waiting when he came back, but there was something in Tyler’s posture as he stood next to this girl that was setting off alarm bells in your head. They were across the parking lot with their backs mostly to you so you couldn’t make out anything they were saying, but after knowing Tyler for six years and dating him for four, you had gotten rather good at reading his body language. And right now, the pronounced jut of his hips, the upturned tilt of his head, and that certain smile you could just get a glimpse of when he turned the right way all told you the same thing. He liked this girl—a lot.
You watched them for another moment or two until Lily, Dani, and Boone came barrelling out of the diner, almost knocking you over. By the time you all untangled yourselves and you looked back over to where Tyler and the girl had been standing, she was walking back towards the Storm Par team. But Tyler…Tyler’s eyes were locked on her. He nodded slightly as an impressed grin spread across half of his face. He stared after her for another beat before the grin dropped and he straightened, his eyes scanning the lot until he saw you standing by the diner, looking back at him. Quickly slipping his sunglasses back on his face, he jogged to your side. 
Just before he reached you, he shot one quick look over his shoulder at the Storm Par team. Whatever the girl had said to them had caused them to pack up all their equipment and climb into their vehicles. Tyler jerked his head at Lily, Dani, and Boone who were still standing near you, then he placed his hands on your shoulders.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to do lunch, but we gotta go. Storm’s moving in faster than we thought and it looks like it's gonna be a good one.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Just meet you back at the motel tonight? Dex was gonna grill up some steaks for everyone.”
“Yeah,” you said, not looking at his face. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Hey.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. “Everything alright?”
You sighed, staring into his sunglasses. “Yes, Tyler. Just go before you miss your window. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay…tonight.” He squeezed your arms one last time and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before heading to where his crew was already packing up.
When he was about halfway across the parking lot, the group of Storm Par vehicles pulled out in front of him. As the truck the girl was in passed by, you saw that same smile return to his face and you turned away, a queasy feeling building in your stomach.
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That night at the motel, all Tyler could talk about was this girl—Kate—and how she had perfectly predicted the storm. Everyone else out there had assumed the system forming to the east was the one to chase, yet Tyler and Kate had been the only ones to correctly identify that the cap wouldn’t break and the one to the west was the better option. 
The sick feeling deep in your stomach that had been growing since Tyler began talking about her only got worse when Kate walked by the Wranglers on the way to her room. Tyler introduced the two of you—she was polite but seemed surprised when Tyler referred to you as his girlfriend. You just nodded back before taking a long drag on your beer. Seeing the way Tyler had looked at her was bad enough, but hearing him tease her and listening to him call her by a little nickname all while that spark burned in his eyes was a thousand times worse. And on top of it all, you could see past his bravado—he genuinely respected this girl and thought she was special. It was too much to take and, shortly after she left, you excused yourself and went to your room. When Tyler came up an hour or two later, you pretended to be asleep so you wouldn’t have to talk.
Originally, you had planned on heading back to your shared apartment in the morning, but as uncomfortable as you were feeling about the situation, you didn’t feel like leaving Tyler alone with Kate. You felt terrible even thinking like that because you knew Tyler loved you and would never do anything to hurt you, but you couldn’t forget the way he looked at her. So, you rode out with Dani and Dexter on that day’s chase and jumped in to help when the crew arrived in what was left of Crystal Springs after the storm went through.
While the rest of the crew began handing out food and water to those who had just lost everything, a woman came over to where you, Tyler, and Boone were sorting through some rubble. She was dirty and crying, tears leaving muddy streaks down her face as she explained that they couldn’t find their family dog and, as her kids had already lost so much, was there any way you could help her find him. You were all more than willing to help and immediately began looking for the little guy. 
After a while, you began drifting away from where Tyler and Boone were looking. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Storm Par trucks pull up but you tried to ignore them. Scott and Javi were probably just here to try to talk these poor people into selling what little they had left to that slimeball Riggs for a fraction of what it was worth. How could Tyler seriously be drawn to this new girl if she was helping Storm Par do this to people? It went against everything Tyler stood for. This thought stuck in your head and you began to wonder if maybe you had let your insecurities get the best of you and had blown this whole Kate situation out of proportion.
Suddenly, you heard a small whimper off to your left. Slowly and carefully, you shifted a few pieces of concrete and wood until you saw a tiny pair of eyes staring back at you from the shadows. Bending down, you called out to him, and the cutest little tan-and-white terrier poked his head out with a small bark. After sniffing in your direction for a moment, he slunk forward until he was right in front of you and you slowly reached out. When he didn’t retreat, you placed your hand gently on his head and stroked his fur. He was trembling and wet but otherwise seemed unharmed.
“Hey there, buddy! I'm so glad we found you all safe and sound.” You gathered the small dog into your arms. Rubbing under his chin and giving him a reassuring coo, you turned around and called out, “Ty! Look who I fou—”
The smile faded from your face as you spotted Kate speaking with Tyler and Boone. Even being this far away, even with Tyler getting heated about whatever they were talking about, even as Tyler turned to storm away, you could see that you hadn’t been jumping to conclusions after all. You could practically see the tension crackling in the air between them and it was the final straw. As much as every fiber of your being was screaming at you not to, you knew what you needed to do.
Walking over to where the guys were still searching, you placed the dog into Boone’s arms before grabbing Tyler’s hand and leading him away from everyone else. “We need to talk.”
“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?” he asked, chuckling slightly. But the moment you pulled him behind the rubble of one of the houses and faced him, his smile evaporated. Squeezing your hand tighter, he asked, “Wait. Is something actually wrong?”
Letting go of his hand, you took a few steps away from him as you slowly exhaled. Then you asked, “Tell me one thing about what I do at my job. Not my title, but what I do.”
Tyler stared at you as if you had just grown another head. “Sweetheart, what is this—”
“Just answer the question.”
He ran his hand through his hair as he pondered the question. “You’re in finance and you work…with money…”
“Doing what with money?”
“....I don’t know.”
“I know you don’t and we’ve always joked about it and I thought it was okay. After all, I don’t really get what you do either—I never have. I mean, I know what you literally do, but how you feel about it or why you get such joy from it?” You shake your head, staring at the ground. “I’ve tried to be as supportive as I could be the last four years and let you go out there without saying a word, despite how dangerous it is, but I still don’t get it…She does.”
“She who?”
“Kate.”
“Wait a minute–” Tyler held up his hands and took a step closer to you but you cut him off.
“Tyler, you’ve been different ever since she showed up. She’s all you talk about and you’ve been going out of your way to impress her or show her how much better you are than Storm Par.”
“You know I get a little competitive especially when it comes to those assholes. They look down on my crew because they don’t have degrees or schooling or whatever and I sometimes get lost in trying to show them we are just as good as they are without all that stuff. So maybe I was going a little overboard trying to show Kate that before Storm Par turned her against us. But you know it’s all just big talk.”
“I know and I’ve tried to tell myself that. But it’s not just what you say to her, it’s how you are whenever she’s around. You stand differently, smile differently. You…you…” You blinked several times as you tried to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes.
“I what?”
Taking another deep breath, you said, “Ty…the way you look at her is how you used to look at me.”
That shut him up. Whatever argument he was forming in his head was no longer valid and he knew it. 
Placing your hand over his heart, you said as your voice trembled slightly, “Admit it. We’ve been off for a while now. It sort of feels like we’ve just been going through the motions. We used to talk about the future: a house, marriage, a dog, maybe kids. But I can’t even remember the last time either of us mentioned anything like that.” Your eyes dropped to the ground, unable to look into his eyes as you said this next part. “Maybe…maybe we just need to take some time apart. Maybe there’s something better out there for both of us and we’re just holding each other back.”
Tyler placed his hand over where yours still rested on his chest. “There’s no one better than you.”
“Are you sure you still feel that way?” Tyler started to respond but you added, “Even after meeting Kate?”
He hesitated and that was all you needed to hear. 
Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you found the strength to look up at him as you said, “I love you. But I don’t understand you—not the way she does. And I honestly don’t think I ever will. So you need to explore this and see if there’s something there that I couldn’t give you.” You laughed, tears streaming down your cheeks. “And who knows? Maybe while you and Kate are getting your happily ever after, I’ll meet someone who understands what I do at work with money.”
Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into your touch as he whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”
“And I don’t want to go. But I have to. For both of us.” Pulling his face down towards yours, you lightly kissed his lips. Then, after pulling back, you rested your forehead against his. “Please…really give this a try. All I want for you is to be happy. Whether that’s with me, Kate, or someone else. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find our way back to each other one day. But until then, if you feel it…” 
Your hands slipped from where they rested on him as you pivoted quickly and rushed away. You wanted him to come after you. To come running up behind you, sweep you into his arms, and say he was chasing what he felt and that this had all been a mistake. But he didn’t. 
Finding a police officer climbing into his car, you asked for a lift back to the motel where you had left your car. As you were climbing in, you glanced back at where you had left Tyler. But he wasn’t staring back. Instead, his attention was fully on one of the Storm Par trucks that was pulling out and you just managed to catch a glimpse of the driver’s blonde ponytail. 
What was left of your heart shattered.
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The next few days were some of the worst of your life. You tried to carry on with your normal schedule and stay busy to keep your mind off of everything, but it was nearly impossible, especially considering you were still living in the apartment you shared with Tyler when it wasn’t storm season. His presence lingered in every inch of the space and you wondered how long you should wait before trying to find a new place to stay. He would still be gone for another month or so but living here knowing he was nothing more than a roommate at this point nearly brought you to tears every time you thought about it. 
But even worse were the constant scenarios that played through your head about what he and Kate were doing at any given moment. You had told him to explore things with her and really see if there was a connection there, yet now thinking about him acting on anything made that queasy feeling in your stomach return worse than ever. One time you actually did get sick when you imagined Tyler showing up at the apartment asking you to leave so Kate could move it. You knew he would never be that cruel, but it didn’t stop your brain from asking what if.
Sometimes you wondered if you made a mistake. You had brought up your job and the fact Tyler didn’t know what you did as a reason he didn’t understand you, but that wasn’t the real issue (and to be fair, your job was pretty nuanced and even your parents could never remember exactly what you did). Deep down you had known for a while things were stalling out between the two of you. The love was still there but you had fallen into a rut, just going through the same routines without really putting much thought or effort into anything. Maybe Kate’s arrival was just the wake-up call you needed to face the truth. But maybe instead of pushing Tyler into another woman’s arms, you should have used this realization as fuel to work on getting the two of you back to where you were when you first started dating. 
Maybe you just threw away the love of your life because you hadn’t tried putting the work into the relationship…
A few days after leaving Oklahoma, you were cleaning the kitchen after making dinner when you heard a frantic pounding on your door. Someone from work had mentioned possibly dropping off some paperwork later, but this sounded much too urgent a knock to be them.
Walking over to the door, you pressed against it and called, “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Your heart froze in your chest. It was still the middle of storm season. You hadn’t prepared yourself to face Tyler until then at least. Could he really be here to ask you to move out after all?
Cracking the door slightly to peer out, you gasped and let it swing open the rest of the way as you saw him leaning heavily on the door frame. His jeans and favorite dark burgundy shirt were filthy and ripped in several places. It looked like he had what was once mud—now dried, cracked, and flaking off—caked into his hair, skin, and clothes. But it was the way he was favoring his left leg, keeping as much weight off of it as possible, that really caught your attention. 
“What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?” You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, helping him hobble into the apartment.  
You tried to get him to sit on the couch, but he waved you off, opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. Thinking he might want something to drink, you started to walk towards the fridge, however he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He reeked of sweat, oil, and smoke, and you tried to squirm out of his grasp but he stopped you, running his hand down the side of your face. 
Trying to stay strong and not to melt into his embrace, you whispered, “What are you doing?”
But he just pulled you closer, his green eyes shining with something you recognized but hadn’t seen in a long time. “It’s you. It was always you and will always be you. And I should have known that from the beginning.”
Sighing, you pushed against his chest again. “Ty, I said we needed to take a step back and explore other relationships.”
“I did.”
Even though that was what you were telling him to do, it stung to hear but you pushed past it. “It’s been less than a week. That doesn’t count.”
“It could have been a year and it wouldn’t make a difference. Yeah, Kate and I share something because of our connections with the storms, and I had never met someone else who looks at them like I do so I was intrigued by her. But she’s not what I want and I’m sorry if I made you think she was. But I know now without a doubt what I want and that’s you.”
The certainty in his voice made you weak in the knees but you couldn’t understand what could have changed so completely in such a short amount of time. Studying his face, you asked, “What happened out there?”
“I just walked away from an EF5, even though I shouldn’t have. We were trying to help get people somewhere safe to hide before the storm hit when my leg got pinned under some debris—” you gasped “—I’m fine, I promise. Kate and Javi got me out and it’s just a little sore now. But then Kate took my truck and went out into the storm alone leaving Javi and me to help the rest of the crew keep everyone safe. The only place we could go was the movie theater and it wasn’t made to be a shelter. It started to come apart in minutes and people were getting sucked out. Then Lily lost her grip—”
“No! Tyler–”
“I was able to grab her but it was like playing tug of war with Mother Nature. I was holding onto her with both hands and the only thing keeping both of us from flying away was the toe of my boot wrapped around the leg of one of the theater seats. That moment was the first time in a really long time that I thought this might be it. That I wasn’t making it out of this storm alive. But just when it seemed like I couldn’t hold on any longer, I thought about you—and only you. I thought about the way you smile and boop my nose with whipped cream every single time we split a piece of pie. I thought about your absolutely horrible attempt at singing while you take a shower. I thought about that little sound you make when you’re sleeping curled against me. But most of all, I thought about the way we left things and I refused to let that be the last conversation we ever had. So, I held on until Kate was able to break up the storm.”
You had been falling in love with Tyler all over again at his confession, but that last sentence threw you for a loop. “Wait, she did what?”
He shook his head. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. But the point is, I came straight here as soon as I made sure everyone was okay because I had to fix things between us. And because I needed to do what I should have done a long time ago.”
Letting you go, Tyler reached into his pocket as—wincing—he lowered himself onto his injured leg. Your eyes grew wide as you realized what he was about to do. However, before he could pull his hand out of his pocket, you dropped down beside him, placing your hands on his to stop him.
“Ty, are you sure?” you asked, voice trembling. “I don’t want you to do this because you almost died or you think you have to—”
Tyler smiled, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “No. Baby, I’ve realized that when you love something, you’ll spend your whole life trying to understand it. So while we might not understand everything about each other right now, I’d like to spend the rest of my life by your side trying to figure it out. Because I love you more than anything else in the world and would be honored if you’d let me spend every day proving that to you—” he moved your hands aside and pulled out a box from his pocket “—as my wife.”
He popped open the lid and you gasped. The diamond ring inside was as gorgeous as it was huge. You had seen smaller rings on A-list celebrities and knew there was no way in hell either you or Tyler could afford something like this, even if you combined your savings.
Mouth still gaping, you choked out, “Where the hell did you get that?”
Tyler smiled. “There was a jewelry shop down the street from the theater that was still standing. When I went by, the owner was out front inspecting the damage. Turns out, I had helped his wife and kids get to safety so he opened up the store and gave me a pretty good deal on it.” 
“Still, you didn’t need to do this.” You reached up and brushed his hair off his face where it had been plastered down by sweat and dirt. “You know all I’ve ever wanted was you. You could have given me a rubber band and I still would have been the happiest girl in the world.”
“Should I take it back then?” He started to close the ring box, but you stopped him.
“Well, don’t be so hasty! I mean, since you already have it…”
“Does this mean you’re saying yes?” There was just the slightest edge of fear in his voice as if he honestly thought you might have a different answer. 
But you nodded, holding out your hand. “Yes. As long as you are absolutely sure this is what you want, then of course I’m saying yes.”
Tyler’s smile doubled in size as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Even noting how big it was, the weight of it momentarily surprised you. The diamonds sparkled and shined in the lights of the kitchen and you wondered if you would ever get tired of staring at it. 
Once it was securely in place, Tyler wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lips. The kiss had a fire and desire to it you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years, and you silently vowed to never let your passion for each other smolder again. 
As the heat of the kiss began to burn even brighter, you felt Tyler’s fingers fiddling with the buttons of your blouse. With a soft moan, you turned your head, breaking the kiss but leaving your face pressed against his. “Ty, please don’t be offended by this, but do you think before we go any further, we could move this celebration to the shower? You smell really bad.”
He chuckled, his hands still skimming over the front of your blouse. “I’ll go wherever you want me to, as long as we are together.” 
You smiled back and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Forever.” 
Then you helped ease him off the floor before leading him into the bathroom, both of your shirts and pants already on the floor before you reached it. 
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Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole, @ryebecca, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @ohtobeleah, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @sunlightmurdock, @xoxabs88xox, @superchatnoir07
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jetii · 1 month ago
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Too Sweet
Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
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Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader
Words: 6,140/26,525
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, description of blood/wound care, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, you can pry goofy Thorn out of my cold dead hands, smut in part 3? 4?
Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.
A/N: Trying something a little different with more, shorter parts for these longer fics. Also forgot to say thanks for 650 followers! hello!
Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist
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“For the last time, I don’t need a medic.”
Fox is trying to be polite about it, but the tone of his voice is bordering on a growl. Every push on his shoulder is a jab to his pride, making him hiss like an angry tooka-cat. He knows he's being ridiculous, but that's never stopped him before.
His patience is already thin, but it had been stretched to the breaking point by a series of unfortunate events over the course of the day. The first, and arguably the most annoying, had occurred at the beginning of his shift.
Fox had woken up late, and his alarm clock had gone off with a loud, obnoxious tone that had caused him to shoot straight up in his bed, slamming a fist onto the off button. He scrambled out of bed and dressed faster than he thought possible, then hurried into the mess hall for the early shift breakfast. He was late enough that the food line was empty, and his choice was between a bowl of sludgy porridge or an unidentifiable ration bar.
The ration bar had tasted like stale durasteel, and the porridge was more of a thick slop, so Fox had opted for the latter. He scarfed it down with a mug of caf after an overdrawn fight with the machine, which tried to refuse him more than one portion of caf. He had left the mess hall with his stomach growling and his mouth bitter with the aftertaste of the caf, and his mood had soured even further when he found the lift under maintenance, forcing him to take the stairs.
When he arrived at the office, there was an enormous stack of datapads on his desk. A new security system had just been installed throughout the city, and the details were apparently too sensitive to be kept on the holonet. The only copies of the schematics were the ones on the physical datapads, and Fox had the wonderful task of checking every single one.
By the time lunch came around, Fox had managed to read through half the stack despite the constant interruptions. Someone would come in and ask about some obscure policy, or a trooper would report that someone had thrown a bottle at him, and the Chancellor would call for updates, and all the while, Fox had to be careful not to crush the datapads with his gauntlets.
The Chancellor was especially persistent today, calling him in person to demand a detailed analysis of the new security measures. Fox was forced to leave the datapads behind in order to give him an impromptu briefing, which ended with the Chancellor dismissing him with a wave of his hand and a curt, "I'm sure you have more important things to attend to."
Fox was seething when he returned to his office, and in a last minute attempt to escape his prison and an effort to calm himself, he decided to walk the patrol route himself instead of sending a trooper.
Of course, this had to be the day that every citizen on Coruscant decided to commit a crime, from a jaywalking elderly woman to a pair of pickpockets that had made off with a trooper's blaster. There was an argument outside a bar, an illegal speeder chase, and a man had decided to start a fire in the middle of the street, and all this had happened in the span of less than two hours.
Thorn had thought it was funny, but Fox hadn't found it nearly as entertaining. And now, he's been injured during the scuffle with the firestarter, and Thorn is making a big fuss about it.
Fox's shoulder throbs with pain as he moves, and he tries to ignore the way the skin is tightening around the wound. It's only a scratch, but it's deep, and Fox can feel blood oozing out of the cut and dripping down his armor. His head is pounding, and his chest aches from having been slammed against the duracrete by the man's boot.
A hand presses down on his shoulder, and Fox flinches away with another hiss. He turns on Thorn with a scowl
"I'm fine," he growls, shrugging Thorn's hand off his shoulder. "Leave it alone."
"Fox," Thorn says. He's trying to sound reasonable, but Fox can hear the exasperation in his voice. "It's a karking gash on your arm. I can't leave it alone."
Fox rolls his eyes. "I'm not letting you drag me back to the medbay for something as minor as this," he says. He turns and starts walking, heading towards the Senate building. "We've got more important things to do."
"I'm not dragging you to the medbay," Thorn says, running to catch up. He grabs Fox's arm and yanks him to a stop. "You're going to GMF. It's on the way to the Senate anyway."
"What? No!" Fox sputters, but Thorn is already pulling him down the street. He digs his heels into the ground, but Thorn is stronger than he is, and the other commander pulls him forward without breaking his stride.
"You're coming with me whether you like it or not," Thorn says, his voice firm. He doesn't loosen his grip, and Fox can only follow along helplessly. "The office will survive without you for a couple of hours."
"Thorn, you're not—"
"Yes, I am."
Fox scowls. Thorn isn't budging, and neither is he, and they've reached a stalemate. He's considering the merits of just sitting down and refusing to move, but before he can even make a decision, they're already at GMF.
"Let's go," Thorn says, pulling him up the steps. "Just stop trying to act tough and get over yourself."
Fox wants to protest, but Thorn has an iron grip on his arm, and he doesn't want to risk a public spectacle, so he allows himself to be pulled inside.
"Fine," he huffs. He can already feel a headache coming on, and his stomach is still grumbling in protest at its meager breakfast. Maybe he'll be able to sneak away before anyone notices, and no one will ever know that the Commander of the Guard was seen at GMF for such a minor injury.
"That's the spirit," Thorn says, grinning. He pulls on Fox's arm again, and this time, Fox lets himself be dragged away.
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They've been sitting in the waiting room for a few minutes, and Fox is already starting to regret his decision. It's a busy day at GMF, and a steady stream of injured people are filing into the building, filling the waiting room with a cacophony of moans and groans.
Fox's shoulder is starting to throb again, and the wound is leaking blood into the fabric of his blacks. Thorn is tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair, his expression thoughtful.
"I wonder how many people are in here because of you," he says, looking around the room. There's a group of young men sitting on the opposite side of the room, nursing a variety of wounds. "They must be getting sick of seeing the Guard around here."
Fox glares at him, and Thorn chuckles.
"You'd think they'd learn their lesson and stop committing crimes," Fox mutters.
"We'd all like that," he laughs. "But we both know that won't happen."
Fox sighs, leaning back against the wall. He shifts slightly, trying to find a comfortable position. He's still annoyed about his arm, and now the smell of bacta is starting to get to him. It had always had a pungent, chemical smell to him, and the scent of the various medical supplies is making him queasy. 
He can feel his stomach starting to churn, and he closes his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing. The bright fluorescent lights are only making things worse, and the sound of the door sliding open and closed as various people walked in and out of the medical wing is grating on his nerves.
It doesn't help that Thorn is sitting right next to him, staring him down like he's a suspect in an interrogation. He'd caught on to Fox's plan to slip away almost as soon as they'd stepped into the room, and Fox had been forced to endure his company as they waited for their turn.
"How long is this going to take?"
"They said they were pretty busy today," Thorn says. "I'm not sure, but you're probably going to be waiting for a while."
"Great."
"Don't be such a baby. It'll be over before you know it."
Fox groans and leans back in his chair. He can't help but think of all the work that he should be doing right now. The stack of datapads has probably gotten taller since they left the office, and he'll have even more work to do once he returns.
He hates the feeling of wasting time, especially when there's so much to be done, and at this rate, he'll be lucky if he manages to finish the rest of his work by nightfall. And that was if the Chancellor didn't call him again.
"You should go back," Fox says, looking up at Thorn. "I can handle this."
Thorn raises an eyebrow, giving him an incredulous look.
"And let you weasel your way out of getting that arm checked out?" he scoffs. "I don't think so."
Fox shoots him a glare, but Thorn only grins.
"Nice try, but no," he says. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"Thorn—"
"I'm not going anywhere."
Fox sighs and slumps in his seat. He can see that Thorn isn't going to budge, and he doesn't have the energy to argue with him. His shoulder is really starting to hurt now, and the bleeding hasn't slowed down yet. He's getting dizzy, and the queasiness is growing stronger
He closes his eyes, resting his head against the wall. He feels terrible, and the longer he sits here, the worse he feels. The smell of the bacta is making his stomach turn, and the noise and chaos in the room is starting to get to him.
The medical center always brings back memories of the Kaminoans, and he was usually only ever here when one of his brothers was seriously injured. He doesn't have fond feelings towards the place.
"This is a waste of time," Fox mutters. "I could be working, or doing literally anything else right now."
"You know it's not a waste of time," Thorn says. He's looking around the room, keeping a close eye on the other people. "You're injured, and you need to get that taken care of. Stop being such a stubborn di'kut."
Fox is about to say something in response, his eyes land on a medical droid heading their way. He lets out a sigh of relief and gets to his feet. Finally, his suffering is about to end.
"Commander Fox?" the medical droid asks, stopping in front of him with a metallic whir.
"Yes, that's me."
"Please follow me. We're ready for you now."
"Finally," Fox mutters, ignoring Thorn's chuckle. 
He follows the droid down a long, white corridor, his footsteps echoing against the tile floor. He keeps his eyes forward, refusing to look back at Thorn. He doesn't want to see the smug look on his brother's face.
After a few minutes, the droid leads them into an examination room and motions for him to sit down on the cot. Fox complies, perching on the edge of the thin mattress and crossing his arms, trying not to fidget, and Thorn takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the room.
The droid is quick and efficient, running the scanner over his shoulder and chest and checking the readouts. It tells him that he'll need some stitches and bacta treatment, and Fox sigh, nodding his agreement.
"Thank you, Commander," the droid says. It stands still for a moment, processing its data, and then turns and exits the room.
"You're not getting out of this one," Thorn says as soon as the doors shut behind the droid.
"I know," Fox grumbles, slumping in his seat. He rests his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. "I just want to get this over with."
Thorn shakes his head, a smile playing across his lips. He doesn't say anything, but Fox knows he's just happy to have won. They're both competitive, and any victory, no matter how small, is something to celebrate.
"Stop that," Fox snaps. He doesn't want to deal with Thorn's smugness. He's already irritated, and the last thing he needs is for his brother to rub his victory in his face.
"Stop what?" Thorn asks, feigning innocence.
“That thing that you’re doing with your face.”
“It’s called smiling, Fox, you should try it sometime. I think you could use the practice,” Thorn teases, and Fox rolls his eyes.
Before he can come up with a retort, the door opens, and Fox reflexively straightens, preparing himself for the worst. The medical droids aren't exactly known for their gentle touches and bedside manner.
To his surprise, the person who enters the room isn't a medical droid. 
Fox feels his eyes widen as he takes in the decidedly human figure standing in the doorway, a datapad in hand. Wearing a crisp, clean set of medical whites, you stand tall, and his first thought is that you're beautiful.
His second thought is that you look far too cheerful for someone working in a medical facility. Your eyes are bright, and you're smiling, and the expression is so warm and genuine that it makes him wonder how you're managing to maintain it in a place like this.
It's a nice smile.
It isn't until Thorn clears his throat that Fox realizes he's been staring at you for the last few seconds, and he hastily looks away just as you glance up from the datapad.
"Hello," you say, your voice soft. "Commander Fox, is it?"
"Y-yes," he manages to reply, feeling his cheeks flush.
"And I'm Commander Thorn," Thorn chimes in, and he shoots him a smug look when Fox turns to glare at him.
"Well, hello," you say. Your voice is warm and melodic, and your eyes are sparkling. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."
"The pleasure's all mine," Thorn replies, flashing you a grin.
"Yeah," Fox mumbles. "Pleasure."
He's never felt so awkward in his life, and he's suddenly acutely aware of the blood on his armor, the way his hair is sticking up in all directions, and the fact that he hasn't slept in a couple days. You, on the other hand, look fresh and put together, and you're practically glowing.
You introduce yourself, and you give them a brief summary of your qualifications and experience. Fox doesn't pay much attention to what you're saying. He's too busy trying not to stare at you, and it isn't until he hears the word 'bacta' that he snaps back to reality.
"Wait, what?" he asks.
"Bacta," you repeat, tilting your head slightly. "It's a healing substance that stimulates the body's natural ability to regenerate tissue."
"I know what bacta is," he says, his tone coming out harsher than he intended.
You blink at him, clearly startled by his response, and Fox feels his face heating up.
"Right," you say, clearing your throat. You offer him a small, polite smile, and he looks away, embarrassed. "As I was saying, we'll need to administer a small dose of bacta to the area where the injury occurred. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."
"Fine." Fox crosses his arms and tries not to scowl, and you turn away, tapping on your datapad again. Thorn kicks him in the shin, and Fox gives him a look. The other commander gestures with his eyes to you, and Fox frowns, shaking his head.
"Do you have any allergies or medical conditions?" you ask, looking up from the screen.
"No," Fox says, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. The mattress is far too thin, and the metal frame is digging into the back of his knees. "I already told the droid."
"Right," you say. "Just making sure."
Fox glances over at Thorn, who gives him an exasperated look, and Fox sighs. He knows that he's being difficult, but he can't seem to stop himself. His shoulder hurts, his head is throbbing, and his stomach is rumbling, and he just wants to get this over with so he can return to the office and finally finish the rest of his work.
He looks back at you and sees that you're staring at him. You're looking at him with concern, and your lips are pressed into a thin line. You're not smiling anymore, and Fox feels a twinge of guilt.
"You don't have to be nervous," you say. "This is going to be a quick procedure, and it won't hurt at all. We'll use a local anesthetic and numbing spray, and you won't feel a thing."
"I'm not nervous," Fox protests, his face flushing. "I just don't have time for this."
"I understand," you say, and your expression softens. "But this is important, and we need to make sure that you're taken care of."
Fox wants to argue, but there's a hint of steel in your tone, and the look in your eyes is firm. You're clearly not going to let him get out of this, and he sighs, resigning himself to his fate.
"Alright," he says, reluctantly.
"Great," you say, giving him a small, reassuring smile.
He feels a little better when you smile at him, and he tries not to smile back. You turn away, busying yourself with setting up the equipment, and Fox takes the opportunity to look at you again. You're standing with your back to him, and he can see the outline of your figure through your medical whites. You're not very tall, but you're not short either, and he wonders how old you are. You can't be older than twenty-five, he guesses, but it's hard to tell with natborns.
"How did you get that injury, anyway?" you ask, glancing over your shoulder.
"Work-related incident," Fox says. He doesn't want to tell you the truth. He doesn't want you to think he's a clumsy idiot, or that he can't do his job properly.
"Oh," you say, sounding a little surprised. You turn back to the equipment, and he can see the muscles in your back tense. "That sounds... dangerous."
"It's nothing," Fox says, his voice low. "I can handle it."
"Of course," you say softly. You turn around and walk over to the cot, your gaze focused on the equipment. "Okay, armor off, Commander. Let's see it."
Fox stiffens, his heart skipping a beat. "I—what?"
"The injury," you say, your brow furrowing slightly. You reach over and brush your fingers against his arm. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Fox says, a little too quickly. 
Thorn lets out a snort, and Fox glares at him. He just raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face, and Fox rolls his eyes.
"Sorry, it's been a long day," he says as he turns back to you. "Just a bit tired, is all."
"That's understandable," you say, your lips curving into a small, sympathetic smile. "If it makes you feel any better, I've been on my feet since 0600."
"I think you win," Fox says, his voice dry.
You let out a small, breathy laugh, and his heart skips a beat again. It's a nice sound, and he feels a strange surge of pride at having caused it.
He was truly terrible at making small talk, and most people found his dry sense of humor off-putting. The fact that you had laughed at his words, even if it had been a polite, professional laugh, was surprising. It was hard not to see it as a small victory in an otherwise terrible day.
You smile at him again, and he feels a sudden urge to smile back. You look like you're about to say something, but then your datapad beeps, and the moment is lost.
"I'll be right back," you say. "Just got to check something."
You step out of the room, and Fox lets out a breath, relieved that you're gone. He hadn't expected you to be so friendly, or to be so concerned about him. Most natborns just saw the troopers as an extension of their equipment, and they only spoke to him if there was a problem. You're different, though, and it's unnerving.
"You're blushing."
"What?" Fox sputters, turning to Thorn. "What are you talking about?"
"Your face is red," Thorn says with a wide grin.
"It's the lights," he says, pointing to the ceiling. "They're too bright."
"I didn't know we could blush," Thorn teases. "That's kinda cute."
"Shut up."
"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you're not at least a little bit interested."
Fox sighs and shakes his head. "Not now, Thorn. We're in a medical center, not a bar."
"Good thing, too." Thorn stands up and starts to help him unlatch his armor, a smirk on his face. "Cause if we were, you wouldn't have a chance. She's way out of your league."
"You're the worst," Fox says, and he swats Thorn's hands away and reaches up to unfasten his shoulder plates himself.
"She's pretty," Thorn continues, ignoring him. He pulls off Fox's pauldrons and sets them on the ground. "And she's not scared of you, either. That's a first."
"Yeah, well, she works in a medical facility," Fox mutters, slipping out of his cuirass. "They must have taught her how to deal with difficult patients."
"Maybe," Thorn says. He removes the rest of Fox's armor, placing it carefully on the ground, and then steps back. "But I don't think that's it. She's nice."
"She's paid to be nice."
"That's not fair, and you know it."
"I don't need you playing matchmaker," Fox grumbles.
"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. "But if you don't ask for her frequency, I will."
Fox's eyes widen. "Don't you dare—"
The doors slide open again, and you step inside, your expression bright. "Sorry about that."
Your gaze is focused on the gloves you're pulling over your hands as you walk in, but as soon as you look up, your smile vanishes, and you freeze. Your eyes are fixed on his arm, and Fox quickly glances down, noticing the large dark patch of blood seeping through his undershirt.
"Oh, Commander!" you exclaim, hurrying towards him.
"It's not that bad," he says. He hadn't realized how bad it was until now, and his heart is pounding in his chest. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not." Your tone is stern, and he finds himself shrinking back a little under your intense gaze. "Now sit still."
Fox does as he's told, watching as you pull a stool over and set up a tray. Your movements are swift and practiced, and you don't seem at all bothered by the amount of blood. You're frowning, but your eyes are calm, and Fox finds himself relaxing a little.
"Let's get this over with," you mutter.
You're not smiling anymore, and it unsettles him. He'd thought that he had imagined the steel in your voice earlier, but now he can hear it clearly, and it sends a shiver down his spine.
"Yes, sir," he says, trying to lighten the mood.
"It's doctor, actually."
Fox winces.
"My mistake," he mutters, his voice apologetic. "Force of habit."
You look at him, and he thinks he sees the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, but before he can be sure, your face is composed and neutral again.
"Would you prefer I cut the sleeve off, or would you rather take it off yourself?"
"I'll do it."
You nod, and he lifts his arms, peeling the soaked fabric away from his skin. His stomach clenches at the sight of the deep, bloody gash, and the stench of copper is heavy in the air. He can feel the blood beginning to trickle down his arm, and the sight of his pale, slick flesh is almost enough to make him vomit.
"Are you okay?" you ask, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder.
"Yeah," Fox manages. He's feeling a little woozy, but he tries to push it down. "I'll be fine."
You give him a sympathetic look, and he looks away, his gaze fixed on the wall.
"Okay," you say. You grab a vial and a syringe and inject it into his arm. "This should help numb the pain. Try not to move."
Fox nods, and you lean closer, gently cleaning the wound. The smell of the disinfectant is strong, and he forces himself to focus on your face instead. Your expression is calm, and you're humming softly as you work, and he finds himself relaxing a little more.
"How did this happen, anyway?"
"Like I said, it's work-related."
"So it was a knife, then?"
Fox glances at the gash, and he nods. He can't tell if the cut is deep enough to require stitches or not, and he's a little worried that the knife might have hit an artery.
"You're going to have a nice scar."
"Good. It'll match the others," he mutters, his tone flat.
You pause for a moment, looking at him. Your expression is unreadable, but there's a sadness in your eyes that he doesn't understand. You resume cleaning the wound, and he tries not to think about it.
"Do you always go out in the field?" you ask.
"Sometimes."
"And do you usually get injured like this?"
"It's not uncommon."
"Hmm." You're quiet for a few moments, and then you glance up at him, your eyes filled with concern. "You're very brave."
Fox is stunned. No one has ever said anything like that to him before, and it catches him off guard. He doesn't know how to respond, and he just sits there, staring at you. You don't seem to mind, and you return your attention to his wound.
"This is a lot deeper than I thought," you murmur. "It'll need a few stitches."
"Okay," he says, his voice soft.
"Try to relax," you say, gently touching his arm.
He nods, and you begin to sew up the wound. He tries not to think about the fact that the needle is digging into his flesh, and instead focuses on the feeling of your gloved hands on his skin. They're gentle and warm, and the scent of the disinfectant is beginning to fade, replaced by the faintest trace of flowers.
He can't remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. His brothers are rarely so careful, and most people who touch him are doing so with the intention of causing him harm. It's a pleasant change, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he expected.
"Sorry," you say, glancing up at him. "Almost done."
"Take your time," Fox replies. "I'm in no rush."
That's patently untrue, but the lie slips from his lips easily, and he's rewarded by a smile. He can see Thorn giving him a pointed look, and he knows that his brother will never let him live it down. But right now, he doesn't care.
The smell of flowers grows stronger, and he realizes that it's coming from you. The scent is subtle, but pleasant, and he's surprised by how much he likes it. He wonders what the source is. Is it your hair? Your skin? Or maybe it's something you wear, like perfume. He can't quite tell, and the mystery is starting to bother him.
You finish suturing his wound, and you dab some bacta gel over the stitches, sealing them. The sensation is cool and soothing, and Fox lets out a soft sigh of relief.
"How does that feel?" you ask.
"Better."
"Good," you say, your expression softening. You reach out and squeeze his uninjured shoulder, and Fox's eyes widen slightly at the unexpected gesture. "You should be all set, Commander."
"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds awkward in his ears. He's never thanked anyone for treating his wounds before. Usually, it was a medic droid, or another trooper, and his thanks were never required. But somehow, the words seem necessary now.
"Of course," you say, a hint of surprise in your voice. You remove your gloves, tossing them in the bin, and turn to clean up your equipment. "Do you have any other injuries, Commander? Any other...work-related incidents?"
"No, nothing else."
"Good." You stand up and stretch, and Fox takes the opportunity to admire the shape of your body. He can't help himself, and he quickly looks away, a flush rising on his cheeks.
"Thank you," Thorn chimes in, and Fox nearly jumps out of his skin. He had almost forgotten that the other commander was there, and his brother is looking at him with a knowing smile.
"You're welcome," you say, smiling at Thorn. You turn to Fox and offer him a smile, too, and he tries to smile back. It probably looks more like a grimace, and he quickly drops it.
"Now, remember, if that gets infected, or the stitches come loose before they dissolve, I want you to come right back, okay? No excuses."
"Got it," Fox replies.
"I mean it, Commander," you say, and you give him a stern look. "Don't make me hunt you down."
Fox blinks, his heart skipping a beat. You're serious, and he finds himself nodding, agreeing without thinking.
"Yes, sir," he says, and then mentally curses himself. "Doctor."
You chuckle, and the sound makes his chest tighten. It's the nicest sound he's heard all day, and he can't help but smile. You give him a playful salute, and he returns it, and you laugh again.
"Well, I hope we don't see each other anytime soon," you say, grinning.
"Me, too," Fox mutters, before he stiffens. "I mea—"
"I know what you mean," you say, your eyes sparkling. You hold out a hand, and he hesitates for a moment before taking it. Your skin is warm, and his breath catches in his throat when you gently squeeze his hand. "Take care, Commander."
"You, too," he says, and your smile widens. 
You pick up your datapad and step around the cot, moving towards the door. As you pass him, Fox catches another hint of the flowery scent, and his eyes widen. Lavender. It's lavender.
"Have a good day, gentlemen," you say. You flash him one last smile, and then you're gone.
He lets out a long, slow breath, trying to process what just happened. He feels... strange. There's an odd warmth in his chest, and he's still not quite sure what it is. He doesn't think it's anything bad, but it's new, and he doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe it's the blood loss. Or the painkillers. Or maybe it's the bacta. Yeah, it's probably the bacta.
Thorn slaps him on the back, and he lets out a startled noise, nearly falling off the cot.
"I don't know what the hell that was," Thorn says, chuckling. "But it was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen."
"Shut up."
"Seriously," he continues. "She's definitely way out of your league. I might even say she's way out of mine."
"I'm leaving," Fox grumbles. He grabs his armor and starts putting it on, trying not to wince as the plates rub against the bandages. "Get out of my way."
"Sure, sure," Thorn says, stepping aside. He gives Fox a sidelong glance, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Just make sure you give her your frequency."
Fox stops, his helmet half-on. He stares at Thorn, his mouth agape, and then turns away, pulling his bucket on over his head. He's not about to give Thorn the satisfaction of an answer. Not when his brother is clearly enjoying his discomfort so much.
He stalks out of the room, his boots echoing against the tile floor. Thorn follows, laughing, and Fox can feel his cheeks burning. He keeps his head down, his shoulders hunched, and he's determined not to speak another word. 
As they walk through the lobby, he notices you standing at the desk, speaking to the receptionist. You're not smiling anymore, but Fox can still see the ghost of it on your lips, and he feels the strange warmth growing inside him.
Thorn elbows him, and Fox lets out a hiss, glaring at him through his visor. He's already starting to regret allowing Thorn to drag him here. This whole experience had been far more traumatic than the injury itself, and he would have been better off ignoring it. But as he looks back at you, his gaze lingering on your form, he finds that he doesn't really regret it. At least not entirely.
The receptionist hands you a datapad, and you nod, thanking her. You turn and look at him, and he quickly ducks his head, pretending to adjust his pauldron.
"Commander!" you call out. "Wait a moment."
Fox stops, and Thorn snorts. He turns and sees you approaching, a small smile on your lips.
"Forget something?" he asks, and he winces internally at how gruff his voice sounds.
"Yes, actually," you say, stopping in front of him.
"Okay," he says slowly. He doesn't really understand why you're talking to him again, but he's not complaining. "What is it?"
"Your frequency."
Fox freezes, his eyes widening. He can't believe what he's hearing, and for a moment, he's convinced that he's misheard. It doesn't seem possible. Not with how the day has gone so far.
He glances over at Thorn, who's practically vibrating with excitement, and he quickly turns back to you, his heart racing.
"Uh..."
"I'll have the receptionist check in on you every few days, just to make sure everything is healing up okay," you continue. You hold out your datapad, and he takes it automatically. "But if there's any complications, or you notice anything unusual, don't hesitate to contact me, okay?"
The breath leaves his lungs, and he's grateful for the bucket over his head. Right. Of course. You're his doctor. This is completely professional. The disappointment that floods his veins is surprising, and he mentally scolds himself. What had he been expecting, anyway?
“That won’t be necessary," he says, handing the datapad back. "But thank you."
You frown. "Commander..."
"It's fine." He turns and gestures for Thorn to follow. "Come on, we've got work to do."
He can hear Thorn muttering behind him, and he knows that his brother is probably annoyed, but he doesn't care. The warmth inside him has vanished, replaced by an uncomfortable numbness. He doesn't know what he was hoping for, and he's glad that the conversation is over. It's better this way.
You call out after him, but he ignores you, and within moments, he's out of the building and back on the street. Thorn is right behind him, and they start the long trek back to the office.
"I can't believe you just did that," Thorn mutters.
"Did what?" Fox asks. He doesn't look at him, keeping his eyes fixed forward. He can feel his face heating up, and he's suddenly feeling very tired.
"You're an idiot," Thorn says, shaking his head.
"Shut up."
They walk in silence for a few minutes, and Fox tries not to think about the conversation. It doesn't matter, and it's better to just forget it.
He's been doing this job long enough to know that it’s dangerous to get attached to people, especially when they were civilians. Things never worked out, and the risk of getting hurt was too great. He'd seen too many of his brothers get their hearts broken by the citizens they were trying to protect, and he wasn't about to let that happen to him. It wasn't worth it. And you weren't special, anyway. You were just another natborn.
He repeats these thoughts to himself over and over, and eventually, he starts to believe them. The warmth inside him disappears, and the numbness returns. He's relieved. He's finally starting to get his head on straight, and the sooner he forgets about you, the better.
And yet, when they reach the Senate building, Fox hesitates. His eyes wander towards the medical center towering over the cityscape, and he feels a twinge in his chest. He tries to ignore it, and he continues walking, heading towards the office. But the ache doesn't go away, and the image of your smile lingers in his mind, taunting him.
He doesn't know why it bothers him so much. He'd only just met you, and it was nothing but a brief conversation. There was no reason to be upset. But somehow, it feels like something was taken from him. And he can't figure out what it was.
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nebbyy · 7 months ago
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Can I request king Baldwin being jealous I just would want to see how it everything would go down 🤔🤔
King Baldwin x reader - Jealousy
A/N: uuuuh I like this concept!! I can't lie it was pretty hard imagining him being jealous, especially since I myself wouldn't even look in other men's direction have I had Baldwin next to me😩😩.
Anyway, hope you like my interpretation of your prompt :))
Painting is "A Midsummer Night's Dream - Hermian and Lysander" by John Simmons by the way :))
Warning: angst, jealousy and talks of insecurity. Reader is specifically described as being female!
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I think it's common knowledge at this point that Baldwin is a man of many virtues, who likes to act guided by reason, not by the heart
The only exception to this ironclad rule is, well, you. You're his beloved wife, the only woman who had ever walked this earth able to make him swoon and lose his collected reasoning, in the name of his love for you
In his eyes, you were the most beautiful creature God has created, and your virtues to him had to be honored and made an example to the rest of the world
He knew you really had not much choice in marrying him: after all, it was a political marriage. But the moment he saw your cheeks get warmer, your eyes avert his own and your breath hitching as he got closer to you
He couldn't fathom how he got so lucky to be worthy of even the slightest of your attention, let alone your love. It was something that he cherished like the holiest of relics, and he made sure to show it by showering you in gifts, spending every breathing moment he had as close to you as possible, learning your passions and hobbies and introducing you to his own
But as much as he loved to shower you in the affection you so much deserved, he remained a man whose mind reigned over every other part of him, and that meant that he knew that he wasn't easy to love, mainly because of his appearance
He wasn't unaware of the fact that his decayed face, his bandaged limbs, his sometimes showing wounds,.. they made people feel a sense of uneasiness, it even repulsed some at the mere sight of it
He knew that a pair of soft, full lips would be preferred by any reasonable woman over his own scarred and partly destroyed ones
He knew that a vigorous man, strong enough to fight and ride on his own, to carry you and protect you would be much preferred to his weakened, often bedridden, mangled body
And he also knew that it was the norm that in most forced weddings, infidelity was so normal that it was even romanticized by singers and poets
So as time went on and his condition worsened by the day, the dooming feeling in his mind that warned him about you possibly growing a liking to someone else started to become more and more present in his mind
Especially one time, when a dashingly handsome prince has just arrived to Jerusalem's court, and he seems that you have piqued his interest, for he seems to make it his personal mission to be as close to you as he possibly can
It's almost as if he's forgotten that you’re married to the king of the realm that is hosting him!
Baldwin first noticed a rather unusual demeanor from the prince on the first night that he's been there, when he started to make a never ending string of jokes, all in order to get a melodic laugh out of you
Then came the walk through the garden, where you usually went with your husband to unwind from your royal duties. And now there he was, this bumptious young prince that acted like he could win you over your own husband
It was right then and there that his own self deprecating tendencies left him to be replaced by a burning flame inside of him, the desire to publicly show your belonging to him and him alone
And so he took it upon himself to muster up all his strength in the following hours, before making his appearance in the main hall. Of course he knew he'd found you there, along with your suitor
Oh how his heart swelled when he saw your eyes, firstly semi-closed from the boredom the prince was causing you, light up at the sight of your husband entering the room
He confidently walked through the room until he was right in front of you, gently taking your hand in his and bringing it to his veiled mouth and holding it there for just a little longer than usual, while his celestial eyes never leaving your own
The simple action left you breathless, mostly because you'd never seen that fire within his stare before, yet in that moment he seemed to you as if he had been possessed by some sort of force that granted him such confidence
Breathing in the sight of you for just a little longer, he then turned his gaze to the prince, talking in a satisfied tone
"What a sight for sore eyes is my wife, am I right? I feel sorry for you that you can enjoy of her company for so little, but I'm afraid that she's needed somewhere else."
If you didn't know him any better, you wouldn't be able to comprehend that there's nowhere where you're needed at the moment other than your husband's arms, and you're glad to fill in the empty spot without hesitation
Because, let's be honest, you took this suitor's attentions as a tool to spur your husband, to test his devotion to you and his desire to have you all to himself. You wanted him to see you as not something gave for granted, no, he had to fight for you like the knights fighting in the name of the women they love in the jousts
And that he did, and you could swear that you have never in your short life have felt so loved and wanted as he picked you up midway through the hallway, smiling playfully at you as you lowered the veil off his face
"You're gonna make me have a run for your attentions, my dear. But I must inform you I'm not prone to sharing when it comes to my beloved wife"
You wouldn't want it to be any other way, as he gently laid you on your shared bed before joining you. And there you spend the rest of the day, after he'd called off both of your daily duties just so that he could have that time dedicated to just the two of you, to make a point of the tie between you two, that no man, much less prince, could ever break
So yes, at times Baldwin can become jealous because of his insecurities and your undeniable beauty, but his combative nature gives him the right spur to make him act on it, never letting anything get in his way
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atalldrinkofcaprisun · 22 days ago
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Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 2)
silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+
howdy!!! reposted and edited again! I’m having trouble with all of the links so sorry they’re not super functional right now. But anyways, I MISS MY WIFE TAILS!!
also on ao3 xx masterlist
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The screaming was the worst part. You had been posted outside of The Doctor’s underground laboratory/cave for three hours now, under the orders not to enter unless you wanted to be sedated until the procedure was over.
When the Scientist arrived at the factory, he had started work immediately. The bullets nimbly extracted and quickly stitched, his hand feebly squeezing your own when he could. You had pressed kisses to his damp temples and pushed hair out of his face, back into his rumpled style. He’d even notice sometimes but it was clear he was in agony.
“It is good you kept that with you,” The Doctor nodded his head towards the injector lying cracked on the floor towards the far wall. You had thrown it off as soon as it had emptied, “He would have been unreachable if you had not administered the medicinal serum. It gave him just enough to hold on.”
“So, he’s going to be okay?” You asked, trying to give that little flame of hope in your chest something to fuel itself.
“He will survive, yes. Survival at least.” the bandaged man replied cryptically before returning his full attention to Silco, “I suggest making plans to move him to safety. Your opponents will be hunting for you soon if they haven’t started already.” He’d put a hand on your shoulder, “I know where they will not find you.”
Shortly afterwards, you had sprinted all the way back to The Last Drop. Exhausted and shaking, you’d only managed a stammering, “Silco. He’s- the warehouse…” before promptly passing out into Ran’s arms. You’d woken up in your bed, apparently you had only been out about 20 minutes.
Now, here you stood, arms crossed and leaning against a rough stone wall. Your nails dug into your skin, trying to center yourself. You couldn’t leave, not when he was in pain. Jinx had been permitted in. Whatever had transpired between Jinx and The Doctor had created a new trust. You had wanted to protest but when Jinx set Silco down on the examination table and sat quietly in a chair in the corner, her eyes not moving from Silco, you had surrendered. Jinx needed to know her father wasn’t going to be one more thing to haunt her. You could keep watch this time.
Sevika was elsewhere getting her arm fixed once again, and keeping all of the intelligence open for signs of what had been happening in Piltover. She’d headed back to The Drop. Running Zaun directly or alone had never been something you wanted. Especially now, with the love of your life still in danger of being lost forever, and your child being the cause on top of whatever had been done to her-
There came another string of rambles, ranging from terror to agony to anger. Occasionally you would hear The Doctor muttering. You could feel the wave of emotions settle between your shoulders, winding up the muscles like snakes tensing to bite. You needed a distraction.
Threats were going to be coming from all sides. Jinx had officially crossed the carefully toed line of impertinent interference that Silco had perfected. You didn’t know what the aftermath of the missile had been, and it didn’t take a genius to guess. A part of you didn’t care. Fuck the Topsiders for needing to be brought to the battlefield. Still, you couldn’t ignore the stiffness setting in your arms and neck, your hands clenched into fists as tears began to resurface.
Another moan of pain, this one low and mournful… your name again. You covered your ears and tried to fight the urge to bust through the door.
Fuck it. You’d rather be sedated then hear one more second of this without being able to help. Hands flew to the door handle of their own accord, but were met with the empty air as the door opened first.
Jinx’s pink eyes bore into your own, flat, “Doc say you can come in. Apparently he’s though the worst. Dad’ll- be okay.” She sounded completely drained.
You gathered Jinx in a tight hug, wanting to offer any sort of comfort you could, “He’s going to understand. We’ve been so worried about you, Blue.”
“I killed him.” She mumbled into your shoulder, “I almost-”
“But you didn’t,” you pulled back to look in her eyes, your hands pushing her bangs off of her forehead to finally get a good look. She was so pale now, worse than before, almost spectral. Her freckles and dark makeup only making her appear more sickly, she was smeared with dirt and blood and crusted tears. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but their pale blue had been consumed by the eery magenta of Shimmer. “He knows how much you’re struggling. He isn’t dead. It was an accident. He knows that.”
Jinx didn’t look convinced, only lifting your arms off of her and pushing past into the fissures beyond, “I just need to be alone.“ She turned before she crossed behind the faint lantern glow, “You know where to find me,” and then she was gone.
You waited, letting the compulsion to run after her and comfort her dissolve for a later time. If anything would be able to get through to Jinx it would be Silco himself. In order for him to get the chance, however, you needed to make sure Silco would stay alive. Jinx was smart, and knew when and how to lay low. She would be alright for a few hours. With a deep breath and you headed into the attached cavern.
“Doctor, Is he-“ your gaze mimed fixated on the disheveled and miserable man strapped to the gurney. At the sound of your voice Silco’s eyes landed on you, relief washing over his expression the moment he processed what he was seeing. “Thank Jannah, Sil,” you sighed, stepping and crossing the space. Your hand fell into his, fitting perfectly into his palm, warm and alive and responsive. With a smile you took your free hand and pushed the strands of charcoal and ash hair out of his face, “Hey there, handsome.” You beamed.
The once bright orange iris, now matching his daughter’s pink hue, was scanning along your features, relief washing over the face you had come to love more than you had ever thought possible. His pale blue eye was just as intently looking at you, but his eyelid hung heavy with exhaustion, “What’s a creature like you,” his voice was strained and low, rumbling out of his chest more than his throat, “doing in a place like this?”
Your mind played the first time he had said that to you as you grinned, “That line is still too cheesy to work.”
“Better than the look you gave me when I said it then.” He hummed as your hand moved from his hair to brush his cheek, “Did I ever tell you it was Jinx’s idea?”
“To try and hit on me after saving my life or?” You laughed lightly.
“To tell you,” he wheezed for a second as a flare of purple raced up his skin and into his damaged iris, “ah, how pretty you looked.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and the pain seemed to become just a little less.
“So you settled on calling me a creature?” You scoffed teasingly.
“Is now the time for such, frivolous things?” The Doctor’s tone was annoyed as he cut in. He started undoing the straps holding Silco down, and he motioned for you to help him.
You looked at the scientist with one brow raised as Silco sighed, “I’ve nearly died today. It makes a man think about things… differently,” his gaze didn’t move from your face, like he was studying it for the first time. You were used to his staring habit, but this felt different. Maybe it was the drugs, “so beautiful,” he muttered so low, he probably hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.
“Shut up, old man,” you smiled, “Save your breath.”
The Doctor moved to your side of the table, batting you away as he began to unstrap his arm and head. Which was only fair since you hadn’t even started to undo the buckle. Your hand slipped away from Silco’s and you immediately missed the feeling. The anxiety that boiled in your stomach was vicious and your skin seemed to itch with the need to continue to make sure Silco was truly alive and real, on the mend and going to survive. Once the kingpin was free, the Doctor took his pulse, then gently helped him rise to a sitting position. His face contorted with the pain but eased as he breathed through it. At last, Doc looked towards you and nodded, giving his permission, you could fully take in your paramour.
Silco’s left arm was protectively hugged around his bandage wrapped torso, his smoldering eye still pulsing pink as was it’s seafoam counterpart. His hair was haphazard and his makeup smeared away long ago, the ashen skin of his scar visible in large smudges. You wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could manage, still causing him to hiss ever so slightly. His heartbeat thumped away under your ear, protected in his rib cage, fast and a little irregular. His smell was tainted with blood and sweat but it was still him. His free arm pulled you closer, his nose resting on top of your head. Together you breathed. Just for a moment that to you, felt like the exact eternity you needed to find your voice.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
He chuckled deep in his chest, “I promise to try and not make it a habit, my lovely.”
You only burrowed further into his arms in reply. Your home was here. Safely by Silco’s side, in his arms, breathing and basking in the gift of having more time. Just as the tension had begun to ease from your shoulders Silco spoke again, “Where is Jinx? Is she alright?”
You met his gaze, “She’s… upset. She didn’t mean to kill you. I think she’s headed back to her lab. I wanted to go with her but…”
“But you needed to make sure I would be alright first.” He gently finished and ran a hand through your hair, “Thank you for saving me. Now we’re officially even.” He let his fingertips stroke your cheek, “We need to get to Jinx. I need to tell her I forgive her.”
“You won’t be able to walk on your own yet, old friend.” The Doctor spoke up again from his desk across the room, apparently he had returned to his more important projects, “Your body is still processing the serum. You don’t have your daughter’s vitality.”
Silco frowned over at the old scientist, “I think I can manage. And anyways,” he looked down at you, “I won’t be alone.”
You nodded, and stepped out of his embrace to help him down and onto his feet. As he touched the stone floor however, his legs seemed to buckle and he fell onto you heavily with a grunt of pain. You caught him and let him get his grip on the edge of the gurney. His teeth grinding as he pulled himself upwards, “Sil? Are you-?”
“It’s fine.” The ever stubborn Eye of Zaun commanded. The Doctor and you shared a quick look.
You knew he was lying but he had more pressing concerns than his own comfort at the moment, “Can you?” he gestured vaguely around himself. Asking for help was still not something he was completely comfortable with, but you knew what he meant.
You shifted around him, so one of your arms was around his midsection, the other was holding his hand as his own arm swept over your shoulders. Jinx’s Lab and The Last Drop were a bit of a walk away. The Doctor, grumbling all the while, retrieved a cane from some depths of his caverns and gave you what doses Silco might need if he took a sudden turn. With measured steps you began to lead Silco to the door. Just before you crossed the threshold, Silco tugged and stopped, “Thank you, Doctor. My family owes you a great debt.”
A stiff and matter of fact “I know.” was the only reply he received.
Silco pressed a kiss to your temple and together you set off.
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d1xonss · 8 months ago
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H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛
Sticks and Stones
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 5
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 3k
AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!
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The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.
The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.
Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.
Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.
For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.
You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.
You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.
You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.
Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.
But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.
“Hey!”
You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.
You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”
“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.
You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.
A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.
You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.
She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”
You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”
“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”
“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.
She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”
Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 
And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.
Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.
His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.
Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.
“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”
You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.
Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.
The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.
Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”
“Get back to the house.”
His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.
There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.
He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.
Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.
You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.
You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.
He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”
“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.
Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”
Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.
You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.
And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”
A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”
His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”
“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”
“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”
“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”
The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.
You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”
“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”
You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.
After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”
He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.
“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 
He simply shrugged, “Good.”
Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”
“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.
You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”
He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.
You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”
“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”
“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.
He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”
You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”
He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”
~ Thanks for reading!
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theemporium · 1 year ago
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[4k] you made a deal with your boyfriend to do whatever he wanted to celebrate his podium and you were going to do exactly that, even if the rest of the world was determined to get in the way. (smut)
part one
.
Much to his dismay, he couldn’t get you alone after he had finished his round in the media pen. 
Lando stumbled into his driver’s room, buzzing and eager to get his hands on you, only to have a team member knock on his door and inform him that Zak wanted to take a massive group photo outside of the garage. 
You shot him a sympathetic look before he left the room. 
Then, when he tried to return, he was being pulled up by different team members and colleagues who wanted to congratulate him on the podium at his home race. 
And just when Lando thought he was in the clear, he was being pulled into conversation by none other than Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo—two boys he usually would’ve been happy to see—and somehow found himself roped into going out and celebrating the night. 
It didn’t take a genius to work out Lando was getting angsty. 
He had been all but pawing at you before you even left the hotel room, his hands on your waist and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you tried to add the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom mirror. 
“We could just stay in,” he murmured between soft, open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck. “Say fuck it and stay here.”
You raised your brows. “What are you gonna tell Max and Daniel?” 
“Sorry guys, I would rather fuck my pretty girlfriend all night than get piss drunk!” Lando answered with a cheeky grin on his face, lifting his head enough to catch your gaze in the mirror. 
Your cheeks burned. “Asshole.” 
“We made a deal,” he mumbled, and was all but pouting as he flashed his puppy dog eyes. “You are cutting back on your end of the deal.”
“I’m not,” you said and turned in his arms so you were now facing him. “The night is young, who knows what will happen?” 
What could happen was that Lando was about two minutes away from blowing a load in his trousers in public. 
You had shooed him out of the bathroom so you could slip on your dress and heels just before the taxi with the other boys arrived. When you stepped out, clad in heels that made your legs look miles long and a dress that barely covered anything, Lando was fighting for his life to find a way to convince you to stay in the hotel room. 
But his phone rang and the excited voice of Daniel came through the speaker as he announced they were outside and Lando didn’t even get a chance before you were grabbing his hand and dragging him out the room. 
He had been on edge the whole ride to the club, his thigh pressed against yours and the sweet scent of your vanilla perfume driving him mad. He told himself he needed to reel it in, that he just got a podium at his home race, that he deserved to be carefree and celebrate with his friends like everyone else was doing. 
But two sips into the beer in his hand and Lando wanted to be anywhere but the club at that moment. He watched as you made your way towards the bar, leaning over the counter and sticking out that pretty ass of yours as you ordered some fruity cocktail that would probably have him scrunching his nose. 
He watched the way the hem of your dress clung to your upper thighs, the way your lips wrapped around your straw and the way your eyes fell shut as you danced to the beat of whatever song blasting through the speakers. He watched as you smiled and laughed with all of your shared friends, as you threw your arms over Max’s shoulder and laughed at whatever the dutchman had said.
Lando never considered himself a jealous man and he knew there was nothing more to your interactions than platonic nature, but the fact your attention was everyone but him was starting to get to him. 
He was promised to have you all to himself tonight. He was promised free reign and a night of just the two of you, tangled between the hotel room sheets until the sun rose and you would have to rush to the airport for a flight back to Monaco. 
He was supposed to be the only one listening to your laughs or watching you smile. 
He was supposed to be the only one you cared about too.
With his mind made up and his body itching to have you in his vicinity again, he slammed his half-drunk beer down and ignored the joking comment Daniel said to him before he began pushing through a throng of dancing partygoers until he got to you. 
“We gotta go,” Lando said as his arm wound around your waist and pulled you into his front, though his eyes remained on his friend. “We have an early flight in the morning.
Max scoffed. “Boo! You’re no fun!”
“Maybe next time,” Lando smiled, and to anyone else, it may have seemed genuine. But you could see it was slightly strained. 
Your body felt like it was stuck in a trance as you followed Lando out of the bustling club, the chill of the summer night hitting you the second you left the club. You looked at him, taking in the sheer layer of sweat on his skin that made him glow. The way his chest peaked out from the open buttons of his black silk shirt and the chain around his neck. You took in how pretty your boy truly was.
His arm around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, his other hand working his phone as his thumb tapped away before sliding back into his pocket. 
You raised your hand, your thumb smoothing over the crease between his brows. “What’s wrong?” 
Lando turned his head to look at you, his gaze unamused. “You really gonna play like that?” 
You flashed him an innocent smile. “Like what?” 
His eyes darkened. “Don’t play these games, baby. We had a deal.” 
“We did,” you nodded as you placed your hands on his chest, letting yourself slowly stroke the material of his shirt and play with the buttons as you looked up at him. “The deal still stands.” 
“Does it?” he questioned, his grip on your waist tightening. “Because to me, you were all too eager to get dressed up and head out tonight.” 
You just smiled, leaning up on your tiptoes so your lips were brushing against his. Your voice dropped, the bouncers and other people loitering around the outside of the club not even a second thought as you whispered against his lips. 
“And if I told you I’m not wearing any panties?” 
His hands on your waist tightened its grip, but this time it was almost out of protectiveness. His hands dropped to the hem of your dress, pulling it further down your legs like it would help the fact you were wearing nothing underneath. 
“Baby,” Lando groaned, his hands firmly planted on your ass to stop your dress from riding up. 
“I wanted to be ready for you,” you murmured with your red painted lips pouting. “I said anything you want, Lando, that included any time and any place.” 
You were goading him. You knew it. He knew it. Everyone and their fucking nan knew it but it didn’t stop you from doing so. 
He let out a string of curse words muttered under his breath before slamming his lips against yours. He probably should’ve cared that there were people around, that anyone could record you both or take a photo and have it plastered on tomorrow’s paper. He probably should’ve waited until you were back in your hotel room. 
But he had waited long enough and he didn’t have the patience to wait a second longer. 
You let out a whiny noise from the back of your throat when he pulled away, your cheeks flushed and your lipstick smudged as you tried to pull him back down to you but a squeeze of your ass warned you to stop. 
“Get in the car,” he grunted, his voice raspy and a little gruff and he pretended not to notice the way your thighs clenched in response. 
He stood directly behind you as you clambered into the back of the car, his eyes fixated on your ass before he followed suit. The driver gave them a polite smile and nod of his head before he turned the radio up, confirming the hotel before he pulled away from the side of the street. 
You looked towards your boyfriend, still a little dazed as you reached over to wipe away the red lipstick smudged across his lips but his hand on your wrist stopped you. 
“Lando,” you murmured quietly as his hand moved down your arm, down your side until you shivered against him. 
“No bra either,” he mused, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he moved his hand down until it rested on your bare thigh. “You said anything.” 
“I did,” you murmured. 
His eyes found yours. “Did you really mean it?” 
You nodded. 
“Anything I want?” he asked one more time because you both knew if you said the word, he would stop. But you didn’t want him to stop. Not at all. 
“Anything,” you breathed out.
“Stay quiet for me, baby.”
Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth as you felt his hand slide under the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you glanced at your boyfriend, questioning if he was really going to do this. But the way his lips twitched upwards into a soft smirk told you more than enough.
You tore your eyes away from him and looked at the front of the car, where the driver was oblivious to what was happening in the back of his car. Some Taylor Swift song was playing on the radio, filling the silence but you were far too lost in the feeling of Lando’s palm cupping your bare cunt to try and remember the title of the song.
“Lando—”
“Shh,” he ducked his head to press a lingering kiss on the crown of your head. “I told you to stay quiet, didn’t I?”
You nodded.
“So be a good girl f’me,” he mumbled as his fingers slowly slid along your slit, a low groaning noise escaping the back of his throat when he felt how wet you were. “Fuck, this all for me?”
You nodded again, not trusting yourself to even try and talk right now.
“You’re a fucking tease, baby,” he grumbled as his finger lightly caressed your needy cunt, brushing against your clit with the lightest of touches that made you bite back your own whimpers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow circles until you felt like every nerve in your body was going to explode. “Gonna give you a taste of your own medicine.” 
You could have cried when he finally slid one finger inside you but it wasn’t enough, and Lando knew that. He watched in delight as you leaned back against the car seat, eager and desperate eyes glaring into the side of his face as he looked down at your lap, as though he was able to watch the way your walls squeezed around him as he added another finger. 
Your body was on fire. Every inch of you felt like you had lava coursing through your veins, your stomach coiling and twisting with desire and your heart pounding in your chest as your boyfriend had his way with you in the back of the Uber. You reached out to grip his wrist, your breathing shaky as you flashed him a warning look.
“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head as you turned to glance at the driver, but Lando’s fingers dug into your cheeks as he turned you back to him.
“You can and you will,” he muttered, his eyes darkening in desire as he watched you fight the urge to moan his name. His voice dropped, so low that you barely heard him over the radio. “You said whatever I want, baby. This is what I want. C’mon, make a mess for me.” 
Your face was pressed against his shoulder as you came, your teeth digging into his shoulder as he only chuckled in your ear. Your legs were shaking, your body was shaking and your brain could barely string a coherent sentence together, let alone even care at the fact the poor driver just had his backseat vandialised. 
You were panting softly as you finally lifted your head, a whimpering noise leaving your lips as Lando pulled his fingers out of you and made a point of sliding them into his own mouth. You watched as he licked and sucked the arousal that soaked his fingers.
The little shit even had the audacity to wink at you when your lips parted slightly at the sight.
He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips with a grin. “That’s one, baby.”
You didn’t even get a chance to process what he said before the car pulled outside the hotel. Lando thanked the driver (leaving him a hefty tip on top of the payment) and slid out the car, extending his hand to help you out before he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet. 
You gripped his shirt in tight fists and the boy’s grin only widened as you headed inside, dipping his head to greet the doorman and any other workers you met along the way to your hotel room.
Your brain still felt a little fuzzy from your orgasm when the hotel room door locked with a click behind you. You felt his hands on your waist, turning your body to face him and you felt your heart stop a little when you saw the smile on his face.
“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, slow steps guiding you further into the room as he kept his hold on you.
“I don’t think you have, Norris, you’re slacking,” you murmured, letting out a small squeal when he pinched your hip. “There’s still time for you to make up for it.”
He raised his brows. “Is that so?”
You pressed your lips together to hold back your smile.
“Well, as gorgeous as you look,” Lando murmured as he ducked his head down, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t wait to take this fucking dress off you. You are wearing far too much for what I wanna do.”
You gulped a little. “And what do you wanna do, Mr Norris?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he smiled and both of his hands cupped your cheeks before he brought his lips down on yours. “Just need you to sit there and look all pretty for me.”
Lando Norris’ kisses were all-consuming. They were overwhelming and they made your head spin and you didn’t ever want the sensation to stop. He was a good fucking kisser and sometimes that alone could make you feel fuzzy and needy and eager for more. 
However, that was far from the case tonight. 
Lando’s patience lasted all of five minutes before he stayed true to his word, tugging the zipper on the back of your dress and pulling it off your body, only to throw it somewhere else in the room. He didn’t even give you a chance to unclasp your heels before he was nudging you onto the bed, crawling over you and his lips never once leaving your body.
His shirt was long gone but when you tried to unbutton his trousers, he slapped your hands away and muttered for you to keep them on the bed before he began to kiss lower and lower down your body.
Some nights, Lando could have the patience of a saint. And some nights, he just wanted to nuzzle his head between your thighs and never leave.
“Lando!”
His arms were wound around your thighs to keep you locked in place, one hand cupping your tits whilst laid on your stomach. The noises echoing through the room were debauched and scandalous and he had never heard anything so pretty. The way you moaned his name in between strings of curses, accompanied with the sound of his tongue lapping and licking and sucking your needy cunt like he was a starved man.
He never wanted to leave this moment. 
Your thighs squeezed around his ears and he groaned against you, his eyes falling shut as his lips wrapped around your clit. He watched as you arched at the sensation, as you gripped the sheets between your fingers, as you lamely attempted to buck your hips against him only for the hand on your stomach to push you back down.
“Taste so fucking good,” he moaned, his words muffled and mumbled. “This is what I fucking wanted after my race, not some stupid party.”
“Shit,” you cried out, your heels scratching down his back as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. “Please, please!”
Lando let out a whimper as your fingers tangled between his curls, tugging and pulling as you ground your cunt against his face. His hands squeezed your hips, tight enough that they would probably bruise in the morning but neither of you cared. 
He pinned you down to the bed, one hand pushing your leg closer to your chest and the other keeping your leg locked in place as his tongue eagerly lapped your needy cunt. You were soaking, practically gushing down your thighs and onto the bed but Lando didn’t think he had ever seen a prettier sight.
There was a dull pain with each tug of his hair as you came, a dull pain that went straight down to his cock as he watched you squirm and wiggle underneath him as you screamed his name. He couldn’t get enough of you, the taste of you and the way you feel in his hands with your thighs wrapped around him and—
“Please,” you sobbed, your body shaking as you tried to come down from your high, only to feel Lando eagerly still lapping the mess you made between your legs. “Please, baby, I-I need you inside of me.”
And fuck, if there was one thing he loved more than eating you out until your pretty little head couldn’t handle it, it was seeing you beg for his cock.
“Yeah? Need me to fill you up?” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over your inner thighs as he placed sloppy kisses along your skin, up your stomach and chest until your nose was brushing against his. “Need me to fuck you, baby?”
“Please,” you whined, your hands gripping his biceps like you were scared he was going to pull away again. “Please.”
“Don’t need to cry, baby, gonna give my girl what she wants,” he murmured before leaning down to kiss you. “Plus, we are only on two.”
You frowned a little, opening your mouth to ask him what he meant but a sharp slap against your thigh cut you off.
“On all fours, baby, let me see that pretty ass you have been teasing me with all night,” Lando muttered and you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore, not when you wanted him inside you so desperately. 
He was so careful when he first slid inside you, letting out a guttural noise as he felt the walls of your cunt clench around his cock as you took him inch by inch. His hands were constantly on you, squeezing and caressing you as he whispered praised reassurances. He waited until he was completely sheathed inside you, his pelvis pressed against your ass and his cock so deep inside you, you could have sworn you felt him in your stomach.
He waited until you were nice and stretched out and ready for him.
And then, it was like a flip had switched inside the boy’s head.
The sound of skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls of the room, the noises leaving your lips were borderline pornographic and Lando wished he could remember every single detail of this night for the rest of his life.
His hands gripped your hips, guiding your hips back into him to match his hard, fast-paced thrusts. His eyes were glued on the way your cunt greedily took his cock, the way he disappeared with each thrust, only to pull out covered in more of your arousal. He wanted the image burned into the back of his eyelids.
“Atta girl,” Lando groaned, the quick slap against your ass followed by the needy whine you let out making his head spin. “Taking my cock so well, like you were fucking made for me.”
“Shit, please,” you moaned, your head fuzzy and your body tired and all you could think about was Lando hitting that spot again and again and again and again. “Lando, please!”
“So fucking desperate,” he laughed, bordering the line of mocking and it shouldn’t have made you clench around his cock, but it did. And it only encouraged him further. “That’s right, all fucking dumb for my cock, right, baby? Just mine.” 
You were too far lost in the pleasure when you came for a third time that night, your arms losing the strength to hold your body up any longer. Your cheek was pressed against the cool sheets, your fingers gripping the fabric as pleasure washed over you like crashing waves. You whined, feeling the bulge of him deep inside you as he thrusted again and again, and you waited for him to spill inside you. 
But he didn’t. 
He kept fucking you.
“L-Lando,” you choked out, your body jerking with each of his thrusts as you pressed your face against the sheets. Your lips parted, a pathetic noise leaving your lips and tears welled along your lash line. “Too much, please, I-I can’t—”
“You can, baby,” he groaned out, his hand reaching out to take one of yours in his. “One more f’me, pretty girl, need to feel you come on my cock one more time.” 
“Lando–”
“Please, baby,” he moaned, his head falling back as your walls clenched around him. 
This time when you came, he followed right behind you. Neither one of you spoke, your bodies covered in a layer of sweat and your chests panting to try and catch your breath. Lando squeezed your hips, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your ass cheek before he slowly slid out, watching the mess you both created.
You whined, your body slumping against the mattress and Lando couldn’t help but giggle as he crawled back up the bed, taking your body in his arms as you became a lump of tangled limbs. 
“That’s three and four,” he murmured against your temple and you lifted your head as realisation finally dawned on you.
“You wanted me to come four times,” you commented and he only grinned in response.
“It is my number after all,” he said like it was obvious. “And you’re my girl. It makes sense.”
You snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah, but I’m yours,” Lando murmured, watching as your eyes fell shut as you leaned your head against his chest. He lightly shook you. “Hey, pretty girl, need you to stay awake so we can take a shower.”
“We can have one in the morning,” you said, your words muffled as you nuzzled your face further into his chest.
“Yeah, right,” Lando snorted before patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll wash your hair. And we need to take your makeup off, baby, I wanna see my gremlin.”
“You are so doting,” you deadpanned.
“I just don’t wanna deal with a grumpy girlfriend in the morning—ouch!” Lando hissed, glaring down at you. “Geez, tough crowd, I was joking.”
You lifted your head, flashing him a lazy smile. “Carry me?”
He playfully rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I love you too, my podium boy,” you murmured teasingly, leaning up to kiss him and Lando didn’t have it within him to not smile into the kiss.
.
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velvetures · 1 year ago
Text
Gearing Up & Catching On
Summary: Getting Ready for a mission, you realize someone is watching. T/W: female-coded reader, sexual themes, staring w/o consent, def not proofread.
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Mission prep always came with a certain level of ‘hurry up’ that anyone outside the task force would understand easily. New variables, information, and deadlines always made traditional planning quite impossible. Therefore it made sense why most of the men just always walked around like they were moments away from being right in the middle of a week-long fire-fight. But, there were always times when things needed to be prepped. Be it a different tac vest or something as simple as a change of pants just because someone liked a different pair better and there was enough time to concern themselves with it.
In those few and far-between moments, there wasn’t ever a place to slip away and just take care of your business. Essentially, due to the very irritating fact that up until your arrival, Task Force 141 never had to think about a woman being integrated into more than just a few hours' worth of wartime cooperation. Everything from sleeping arrangements to bathrooms, to who got to sit in the front seat changed when you were adopted into the squad. It made the situation of changing clothes a little bit… different for one man specifically.
It had been made clear when you joined the task force that there was not to be a single misstep in terms of conduct when it came to you, in the specific topic of you being different from the rest of them. No crass remarks, no flirting, no staring or groping. Typically this kind of thing went… a little unspoken about. Since most of the men didn’t mind hearing that sort of thing about each other here and there. Captain Price set out to make it very understood that you weren’t to be a topic of discussion for anything that wasn’t professional simply because he believed they owed you some damn respect.
Unsurprisingly, Soap was the primary concern for a while. The Sergeant was just too fucking flirty and friendly for his own good, and it was often suspected that if someone didn’t stop him from saying something wildly inappropriate he’d end up dead inside of HQ at your hands for crossing the wrong line too far. Captain Price didn’t expect everyone to follow his orders to perfection. At least… follow his orders well enough that no one noticed how Lieutenant Simon Riley’s eyes lingered in all the wrong places at the most opportune times.
Typically you didn’t have the slightest problem changing in front of any of the team as long as you didn’t have to get totally naked. And most of the time, that wasn’t a problem. Changing from one outfit to another was just a part of daily life while on an extended mission or back at HQ; Therefore when you stripped down from your civvies to prepare to fly out, you didn’t even concern yourself with looking around the room at the rest of the team all standing within viewing angle of you in nothing more than a pair of underwear and a bra. Sitting down on the bench to put your socks on before having to go through the whole ordeal of getting pants on, you began talking yourself into the fact. Not that the pants didn’t fit… but after being in shorts or sweatpants for almost a week, the idea of pouring yourself into a stiff pair of tac pants sounded downright revolting.
Just as you put the first sock on and pulled it up, you heard the familiar sound of a towel snapping followed by a sharp curse from Gaz and an evil sort of chuckle from Soap. The instinct to look up took over and you turned in the direction of the commotion just long enough to see Gaz and Soap… But more importantly, your Lieutenant. Standing almost like a dark shadow with his shoulder leaning against the wall and his dark eyes highlighted by the gun grease smeared all over the top half of his face.
The angle at which you sat gave you just a spare second to realize that Ghost was staring right at you before snapping your eyes back to the floor. Such a small moment, yet it was very obvious by the way he was standing that he’d been there for a good while. Long enough to get comfortable cross his arms over his chest and rest the toe of one boot against the floor to take weight off of one leg. Thoughts scrambled through your mind at all of the possible reasons why the Lieutenant would’ve been doing that in the first place but one seemed even more likely than the next.
Surely he had a professional reason, right? Maybe it was to do with the clothes you were choosing to wear and was thinking that there would be a better option for the mission or climate. Even something smaller like him having a genuine or innocent curiosity about why you liked putting on your socks before your pants. Either way, you caught him looking directly at you while you sat there in your bra and underwear. A good part of you shivered with the embarrassment of it, while the other half tried not to think about if Ghost was looking for less than professional reasons. Because, no matter how much you wanted to tell yourself that your Lieutenant wasn’t attractive… you knew it was a huge lie. In the meantime, you did your best to hide the sudden awareness of being watched and went about getting your lower half dressed so that your asscheeks weren’t out long enough for Ghost to get an even longer look.
With your shirt halfway over your head, the sound of boots on the floor stopping right behind you made your breath disappear and your heart rate spike to double it’s typical resting rate. Made even worse with your eyes covered by your black shirt, you could only hope that it was Soap coming to swat you with a towel instead of what your gut was screaming.
“You always put your socks on first?” Ghost’s thick accent and low rasp made chills run down your back. He was rightbehind you. The question was innocent enough, but that wasn’t enough to make you feel any better. Matter of fact, you didn’t even bother pulling your shirt down the rest of the way before answering his question.
“Yeah, makes tucking my pants in easier.” A fact nonetheless, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit childish explaining your habits from boot camp that never went away.
Ghost’s gruff sound of acceptance from his throat gave you the momentary feeling that he’d let you go without any more feelings of pre-mission mortification. Suddenly you feel your shirt being pulled down in the back, down over your bra band down to the waistline of your pants. Ghost, apparently being helpful while simultaneously making your heart beat so hard against your chest that you feared it might bruise against your ribs.
“Next time, do me a favor…”
“What’s that Lieutenant?” Your question comes out far more shy and submissive than you normally would sound answering someone.
“Don’t sit down,” His voice nearly drops to a rumbling snarl of a sound, bent right at your ear so it vibrates your brain in your skull.
“It’d make for a stunnin’ show.”
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