#and it came out much easier the second go round

[renisanz]

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Careful What You Wish For

Yandere Fling (Stalker) x Fem Reader

It was just supposed to be a one night stand. A moment of heated passion with a stranger… yet why was Arturo so obsessed with you? You had only met him last night… or so you thought.

You had met Arturo at a party and he had such a charm to him. It was like an instant connection. Not only were all of his interests compatible with yours, but he was also compatible in bed with you.

How often did one find a guy who would bend you over in every position and eat you out until you cried? Never. Arturo was one of the best lovers you ever had… nearly perfect. If he hadn’t rambled some nonsense in your ears while he pounded you into his mattress.

Until he told you that he loved you when he finally came undone inside of you. Of how he had wanted to grant your wish for so long. You had pushed the unsettling phrases he said in the moment in the back of your head last night but now reality began to set in. Had you just slept with someone who could be a stalker?

His lips lazily placed kisses up and down your shoulders as his muscular arms pulled you closer to his bare body. “Last night was amazing… how about another round, mi corazon?”

You nervously chuckled and tried to shimmy yourself away from him but he only held onto you even tighter. Arturo nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his beard tickled.

“Why the rush? We had a pretty eventful time last night.” Arturo pressed a kiss to your shoulder, a playful glint now in his brown eyes. “How about we get breakfast together? It’s on me.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” You nervously tried to pull away once more, but Arturo didn’t let up. “I need to use the bathroom, can you let me go?”

Arturo quickly released you, the man sat up and stretched. “I’m sorry… it’s the third room on the right. Don’t mind the second one, it’s a little messy.”

You nodded your head at his words. You quickly sauntered out of the room and into the hall.. A bit of curiosity filled you when you thought of the ‘messy’ second room. What could be in there?

You glanced back and noticed Arturo hadn’t followed you so you quietly opened the second room to quench your curious eyes. Just a peak wouldn’t hurt, right? Only for your heart to drop in pure horror. Why… why was this room covered in photographs of you? A lit up monitor that displayed the intimate layout of your house lit up the entire room. How did he have access to your home like this? Was he… was he your stalker?

You tried to back out but your back bumped into a muscular chest. You were about to release a loud scream but Arturo quickly placed a hand over your mouth.

“Shhh. You weren’t supposed to go in there, silly.” Your face paled when his other hand shut the door. You could feel his heart rapidly beat in his chest. “It’s okay though. I’m glad you know how I feel about you now. It makes this all that much easier.”

Arturo swung you around and placed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. His hands greedily grasped at your hips.

“I’ve been watching you for so long and now you’re finally here… I won’t let you go.” You tried to push against him, to fight him, but he only chuckled at your weak attempts. You were nothing more than a kitten that attempted to scratch at a lion. A fact he found so utterly adorable. “You’re going to love it here, I promise.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

-

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

���Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

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

IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK FOR YOU: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[imaginaryf1shots]

Neighbour Pt.2 | Lando Norris

WC: 2222 weird

Lando x Reader

Part 1

Summery: (Requested) When your ex comes to your office looking for you and you call the only person you can think of.

Warning: Cursing, toxic ex

Masterlist

Lando Masterlist

Not edited or proofread

Maybe it’s because of how your friendship started, or maybe it’s just how he is, but Lando is very protective of you. And not it the way that's overly possessive like your ex, or controlling. No. Lando is out of the country most of the year, you work in Monaco, yes you don’t have to go in everyday but that’s where you work. So when he’s out of the country he’s satisfied with a text telling him you’ve reached the office, or that you’re home safe. Monaco may be safe, but you can’t be 100% sure. And your ex coming to your door on the first time you two actually talked wasn’t something that’s comforting.

Lando was in Monaco at the moment and you had to go to the office to grab something, Lando dropped you off and said he’ll go see Max until you’re done, Monte Carlo is small enough for him to make it to your office in a record time.

You were caught in a gossip session with some of your colleagues, your voices hushed and giggle-y at the tea being spilled for the group of you. The office was quiet for the day and everyone was doing their things ignoring the group of you, but it made it easier for loud noises to be noticed. So when your ex was at the reception calling your name, everyone heard it. The office is mainly females working in it, all eyes went wide and looked at you, there’s barely 10 of you there right now, it’s lunch break after all. You froze knowing instantly who it is.

”Shit.” You mutter once you snap out of it one of your co-workers had her hand on your shoulder, they all huddled closer around you as you heard the voice of the receptionist shouting back at him. You quickly pressed Lando’s contact name in your favourites pressing the phone with shakes hands to your ear.

”Hey baby, want me to come pick you up now?” Lando’s lighthearted voice filled your ear.

”L-Lando.” Your voice was shaky and you were stuttering, your eyes not moving from the door, waiting for when your ex rounds the corner and barges into the main work area.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked instantly, hearing your voice, he was already up from the sofa and taking his keys, Max gave him a questioning look but Lando payed him no attention.

”Scott’s here.” You manage to get out, clutching your phone harder.

”That cunt, I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Lando already slipped his shoes on and was on his way to the parking lot to get his car.

”Lando, I’m scared.” You mutter tears gathering in your eyes.

”Don’t be, I’ll be right there, baby, just a couple minutes.” Lando tried to comfort you as much as he could, he’s steaming. He may have broken a few laws on his way to you but he doesn’t care, his only focus right now is to get to you as fast as he can. You stopped responding to him, but the call was still connected, he could hear more screaming, a lot of females but also Scott’s voice. It's just as loud and just as annoying as when he came to your house all those weeks ago. Lando’s hands turned white from how hard he was gripping the wheel, he half parked the car and ran out of it, not bothering to lock it. Running inside the office he sees the reception desk empty, but he follows the sound of shouting. He sees Scott’s back, you’re in front of him, six girls are beside you, some others are on the side watching with fear in their eyes, in fact if he looked closely even the ones around you held some fear in their eyes. Girls stand up for girls but that doesn’t mean they hold no fear. In quick steps Lando’s behind Scott, your eyes barely sees him before Lando’s hand lands on Scott’s shoulder and he pulls him back as hard as he could. Scott is caught off guard and stumbles back, he almost falls onto his ass. Lando is in front of you the next second, giving you a once over. Every woman in the room looks relieved of his presence. Lando looks over your co-workers before he turns to look at Scott.

”What the fuck man?” Scott is shouting fixing his clothes, he looks Lando up and down and scoffs.

”Stay away from my girlfriend, you fucking asshole.” Lando’s voice has never been this serious, his words held weight in them, Lando may not be as tall as Scott but he’s tone, he works out and he knows how to throw a punch.

”Girlfriend, you? Look bro, she’s my girlfriend okay, we’re just having a little disagreement.” Scott didn’t think that Lando is your type and in his sick head he got himself convinced that you’re just using Lando to get back at him.

”I don’t remember cheating being called disagreements.” Lando says sarcastically, he crossed his arms and stared Scott down. “Look here, mate, y/n, is my girlfriend. She broke up with you months ago, so just move on, because whatever you think you’ll be doing by coming here will never happen.”

”y/n you’re just going to let him talk to me like that?” Scott turns his sights onto you and you instantly tense up, Lando however steps in front of you cutting Scott’s visions from you.

”Look, this is the last time I’ll tell you this, but don’t talk to y/n, don’t call her, don’t text her, don’t come to her house or her work, don’t even think about her, or I swear to god you’ll never see the light of day again okay? or are you too slow to understand it? I can write it down for you.” Lando has a sarcastic smile on his face, this is a different side of the man you haven’t seen before. Your bright, happy boyfriend is gone and in his place stood this guy that’s about to beat your toxic cheating ex up and eat him for dinner. Sexy. Not the right time, but… sexy.

“What’s wrong with you man? Why do you care so much?” Scott asked, he’s voice taking another turn now, he’s more scared, he realised that Lando is being serious and that he cares about you and there’s no getting to you now.

”Because I fucking love her you idiot, piss off willl you?” Scotts stands there blinking for a few seconds before he scrambles away. Once he is out of the room Lando turns to look at you once more, he ignores the looks he’s getting from the other women and just gives all his focus to you. Lando cups your cheeks his eyes taking you in. “Are you okay, my love?”

”Y-yeah.” You squeak out still not over the shock of what you just saw and heard.

”I think you should take her home.” One of your friends says and hands Lando your things, she gives you a hug and a sympathetic look before Lando laces his hands with yours and holds your things in his other one, and you’re out of the office and to his Audi parked in front. With your things in the back and you strapped in, Lando starts on his drive back home, his hand not leaving your thigh. His eyes are on the road once he’s moving but every time he stops he just looks at you, and you’re just looking at him, your hands holding the one he had on your thigh. You don’t talk until he’s parked the car and turned in his seat to look at you.

”Are you sure you’re okay?” Lando asks you softly, and you nod, not opening your mouth to speak. “You’re quiet.”

”Did you mean it?” You ask him suddenly, feeling nervous and it shows, your eyes are no longer looking at him and your hands are fiddling.

“What do you mean?” Lando’s confused, he raises your chin up slightly and you meet his beautiful but confusing eyes.(like what colour are they really?) You don’t speak but Lando seems to realise what you’re hinting at, at least he thinks he does. “The girlfriend thing? look I know we’re not dating it just-“

”No, not that, you said you love me.” You say timidly now fearing that you thought too much into it and he just said it to get your ex to back off.

”I-uh, I did, I do.” Lando swallowed, you’re not even dating and he’s said the ‘L’ word to you, he feels stupid but it just spilled out. Doesn’t make it untrue. Lando had it all planned out in his head, he was giving you time to get over your ex, then he was going to ask you out, go on dates, ask you to a few races and then tell you he loved you.

”Really?”

”Really.” Your smile surprised the brit, he wasn’t expecting this reaction out of you, he found himself smiling with you.

”Well, I love you too.” You whisper, unable to stop smiling, Lando giggles at your smiley and blush-ey state.

”I’m going to kiss you love.”

”Please.” Lando’s lips touched yours the moment the word left your mouth. You felt a shiver run down your spine, Lando’s hands found their home just under your jaw, pulling you in. You don’t know how long you sat there making out with each other, but when you pulled back you were both breathless, trying to catch your breath.

”Guess I can start calling you my girlfriend now.” Lando says with a cheeky smile on his face, you laugh and open the car door.

”I guess so, boyfriend.”

”Fucking hell, I’m so lucky.”

Getting with you didn’t go as Lando had planned but he’s happy nonetheless, and everyone can see it, his team saw how happy he looked those days, the fans could see it, his friends and family could see it and it only became obvious to them once you made your first paddock appearance with Lando. His hand was laced in yours, a smile on each of your faces. It didn’t take long for the fans to find out who you were, your social media accounts were private but you got a torrent of requests after they were leakes, all going ignored. You and Lilly, Oscar’s girlfriend, got on well with each other. Often seen having a meal or hanging out when your boyfriends were working.

The thing that no one could deny is how happy you make Lando, he's always smiling with you, he’s pictured hugging you a lot, Alex even posted a picture of him sleeping in your lap while they were waiting to film something.

The first time the fans see an in-look to your relationship is when you’re filmed for a Quadrant video, you decide to follow Lando’s routine for a day, and man is he soft for you, always making sure you’re okay and not pushing yourself. He did enjoy when you hugged him for warmth in the cryotherapy after the training. After that one got on well with the fans you were more in Quadrant videos and seen in the back of his streams.

A few months into dating, you moved in with Lando, your stuff moved into his house gradually anyways. Whenever he was in Monaco that’s where you spent all your time.

One of your favourite moments is when Lando got his first win, man were you over the moon, you were crying and smiling at the same time. The kiss you shared under the podium is photographed and you have hung in your apartment. That moment you have treasured and held so close to you. You’re so happy you got to share this moment with him and be there for him on his journey to that first win and the man after it.

”Remember when you first moved in?” You ask Lando one morning, you’re both in bed basking in the silence you have for yourself.

”Yeah, who knew then that the crazy woman shouting at me in french would end up being my wife one day.” Lando teased you, his head was on your shoulder, he left small kisses there, his eyes were closed as he held you close.

”I wasn’t crazy, and almost all of my neighbours spoke French, also you were so loud.” You remember the sleepless nights you had because of him and you shudder. “But I’m glad you moved in.”

”Me too.” Lando finally opens his eyes and pulls away just enough to see your face. “I love you.”

”I love you too.” You say and lean up to meet his lips.

”DADDY! Cisca is bothering me.” The voice of your boy interrupted your moment, you both falling on the bed, and your door opens before two pairs of feet run in the room.

”No I didn’t, I swear.” The twins have made their entrance, which was your que for the day to begin.

”What happened, love?”

“She came in my room and started going through my toys that you-“

Your kids went on and on about what happened, but there’s one thing that’s going through your mind.

This isn't so bad.

Main taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002

[tradgedyinwaves]

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)

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). 

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. 

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.

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 ->

[megalony]

Small Mercies

As requested, this is a new Eddie Diaz imagine that I hope you will all like. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is at work, he gets a phone call from his wife who is home with the kids. Someone is trying to break into their home.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie ran his fingers through his damp hair and gave his head a light shake, ridding the last few droplets of water from the shower. He could feel the steam clinging to his damp frame and making his work gear stick to him like a second skin.

He could feel a headache forming.

He didn't want to go to work. Eddie wasn't sure he had the energy to go to work on a double shift. He had about as much energy and willpower to get him from the bathroom to the bedroom, but he knew he had to get moving.

If he didn't want to be late to work, Eddie had to get a move on and say goodbye to his family and head down to the station in time for the shift change over.

With his hand still tangled into his damp locks, Eddie headed out of the bathroom that felt more like a sauna once he walked into the hallway.

It might of been a good idea for Eddie to take a nap this afternoon before the kids came home from school, but he had decided against it. Going for a nap during the day always made Eddie feel worse when he woke up. He found it easier to power through and go to sleep the next available night, no matter how many hours that meant he had to stay awake for.

Now it was almost tea time and he was going on shift and wouldn't be home until late tomorrow night.

"Chris, buddy I'm heading to work now." He pushed open the bedroom door and leaned against the frame, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he looked across at his boy.

Chris was laid out on the rug in front of his bed, legs kicking in the air behind him and pens scattered across the floor. He had a cake colouring book in front of him, a red pen tucked behind his ear and a deep plum pen twirling between his fingers. And his tv was on rather loud in the background playing a wide selection of music.

He lifted his head to look up at Eddie, as if only just realising his dad was in the doorway. He looked Eddie up and down, taking in his appearance and realising that he was dressed for work.

"I'm going now, I'll see you tomorrow after tea, okay?"

He dropped the pen in his hand and scratched the one from behind his ear so he could push up from the rug. His arms stretched out in front of him and he deadlocked them around Eddie's waist, burying his face in his dad's chest while Eddie leaned down to kiss the top of his curls.

"Love you."

"Love you too, be good for me." Eddie pressed a few more kisses against Chris's head before he unwound his arms and watched his boy flop back down to continue colouring.

He left the door ajar and turned round, but before he had the chance to try and head into the girl's room, Daisy already beat him to it. The four year old barrelled into his legs before he could move in any direction. Her arms bound around his legs and she tilted her head as far back as she could so she was grinning up at him with such a soft smile that it made his heart melt.

"You leaving, daddy?"

His eyes creased with a wide smile and he reached down to scoop her up into his arms, cuddling her into his chest.

"Yeah, flower, I gotta go to work. I'll be home tomorrow." He pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek, grinning when she wriggled and squirmed in his arms and turned to kiss his cheek in return. "Be a good girl, hm? Love you." He knew he didn't have to tell any of the kids to be good, but he always did out of habit.

He set Daisy back down to her feet and shook his head when he heard her mumble "Love you more." She liked to think Eddie didn't hear her when she said that so she could have the last word, but he always heard her.

"Love you most." He watched her scuttle down the hall, presumably going to the living room so she could watch tv before dinner.

His eyes focused on the hem of his shirt which he tucked into his trousers while he headed into his and (Y/n)'s room. He could hear her humming and he already knew Rosie would be in there with her. He made his way into the room and a smirk flooded his lips when his eyes locked on his wife. He could see from her attire and her damp hair that she had just had a shower too; the light was on in the en-suite, confirming his thoughts.

(Y/n) was wearing one of Eddie's plain cotton shirts and a pair of his boxers that were glued rather shapely around her bum. And his shirt hung off her left shoulder as if giving him a sneak preview of what he was missing out on. But it was the way his shirt was bunched up over her hip and partly tucked into the boxers that made it hard to stay in control. He wanted to go over there and rip it over her head and drag the boxers down to her ankles.

He was suddenly glad he wasn't wearing his boots so he could make a quiet descent over towards (Y/n). As soon as he reached her, Eddie bound his arms tight around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he chuckled into her skin when she gasped and stumbled onto her back foot.

Her hands deadlocked around his wrists and her head flopped back on his shoulder. He could feel the deep breaths she took to try and calm down the panic he had rushed through her system.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) scolded quietly, slapping his wrist. He was lucky she hadn't been daydreaming or she might have screamed when he grabbed her. He was always doing his best to sneak up on her and he had gotten Chris into the same habit too.

The feeling of him breathing harshly and sucking at her neck had her knees going weak but when she looked at the watch strapped on his wrist, she knew he was going to be late if he stayed.

"I take it you're leaving now?" She turned her head to look at him but he caught her lips in a kiss instead, and she could feel his hands slip beneath her shirt. His fingertips traced over the curve of her hips causing her to shiver and she felt his fingers trace lower and dip past the waistband of his boxers she was wearing.

His shift was going to feel like a week instead of a day with (Y/n)'s image burned into his mind like this.

"Wish I wasn't." He muttered into her neck, trying his best to sink his teeth into her skin and leave a mark.

His hands squeezed her hips and he pulled back enough so that (Y/n) could turn around in his arms so she was facing him. A tender smile lit up her face and had Eddie's knees going weak and he leaned forward, diminishing the gap between them so their chests were glued together.

"Me too," Sincerity flooded her voice while she cupped Eddie's face in her hands and pecked his lips again before she tried to wriggle out of his arms so he could get ready.

It didn't work. His hands slipped lower into the boxers she wore until both hands had a grip on her bum and he stepped closer, pressing every ridge of his body against hers. When he dug his fingers into her flesh, (Y/n) rolled her lips together and pressed her nose against his cheek.

Maybe she should walk him to the door to make sure he actually left. It wouldn't do him any favours to be late to work when he had a clean track record so far.

Her lips parted into a gasp when she felt Eddie try his luck to walk her backwards towards the bed.

"If you wake her, you deal with the tantrum." (Y/n) warned with an arched brow, talking in hushed tones against his cheek before she dipped her head towards the bed.

Rosie was having a nap.

The toddler had finally settled and (Y/n) wanted to let her sleep for a bit longer before she had to wake her up for her tea. But if Eddie was going to wake her, he could take the time to settle her back down if she started to cry or get grumpy. She hadn't settled for a nap earlier at lunch so this was her first nap of the day which she desperately needed.

The one year old had been fussy all day, but she had finally managed to settle and had fallen asleep in the middle of (Y/n) and Eddie's bed. She was laid across both pillows with a teddy tucked up against her chest and a blue pacifier between her lips. And (Y/n) wasn't going to let Eddie wake her accidentally and cause (Y/n) another hour of pacing the house and rocking to try and settle her again.

Plus, if Rosie was asleep when Eddie left for work, it would cause less stress. The toddler hated it when Eddie had to leave. She would cry when he kissed her goodbye and she would reach out for him and try to follow him when he went out the door. Whereas if she woke up after he had gone, she didn't panic or get as upset.

(Y/n) cupped Eddie's face in her hands when he pulled away from her neck so he could look across at the bed. A fond smile pulled at his lips and his eyes softened when he looked at his youngest girl.

"I won't wake her." He promised against her lips before he leaned forward and stole another kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips and he leaned into the kiss until (Y/n) was tilting back at an angle. "Dios, I'd rather stay here."

"And I want you to stay, but you can't. I don't like being alone at night." (Y/n) curved her arms tighter around Eddie's neck and pushed forward so she could tuck her face against his skin.

She felt his hands give her a squeeze and he pulled her closer and attached his lips to the side of her head. He began to hum softly against her head and started to sway from side to side which made (Y/n) grin into his neck.

"I know mi amor." Eddie didn't like working nights. Not only did it screw with his body clock and mess with his sleep, it made (Y/n) nervous.

He knew she hated to be home alone. (Y/n) was naturally anxious and being home alone spiked that worry, she didn't feel safe unless someone was with her. And Eddie hated working nights because he knew (Y/n) had battled often enough with insomnia. It didn't help her panic either to be left home alone with three kids.

Insomnia heightened every sound outside. The branches tapping and rustling became intruders getting closer to the house. The wind sounded like someone whistling. The gate creaking sounded like someone coming up the drive and banging pipes in the dark sounded like someone breaking in.

"You'd better go, sweetheart." (Y/n) pecked his cheek and her eyes widened when Eddie actually unravelled himself from her. Was he actually going to walk out the door without a fuss?

Her heart softened and her lips rolled together to supress her smile when she watched Eddie move over to the bed. He planted one hand down on the cover so he could lean over Rosie and peck her temple.

"Bye baby girl."

He straightened up after running his fingers through her thin strokes of hair and headed back over to (Y/n).

"If you need me just call, I should be able to answer." He couldn't always answer the phone, but he tried his best. He would rather (Y/n) call him if something was wrong or she didn't feel great, then if Eddie didn't answer he knew to ring her as soon as he could.

(Y/n) tried to untangle herself from him again when he reached out for her because she knew he needed to leave so he wouldn't be late to the station.

But a gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand reached up for the collar of her shirt that was halfway down her shoulder. With it being Eddie's shirt and two sizes too big for her, the collar was looser and easier to move. It let Eddie hook a finger into the collar and drag it further down her arm, exposing her bare chest to his prying eyes.

(Y/n) tilted her chest back just as Eddie's lips attached to her cleavage. Both her hands moved to his shoulders and she gave him a strong push until he had to reel back up and disconnect from her chest. She dragged the shirt back up her shoulder, hiding the view he had given himself which made him groan.

"Go to work before you wake the baby." Even though Rosie was one and a half now, they were inclined to calling her the baby because she was their youngest.

She gave him a gentle nudge until he was walking backwards out the room, his arms back around her waist with his elbows digging into her hips. Her hands reached up to rub across his chest and she continued to nudge him backwards while he stole kiss after kiss from her lips like it was the last time he was going to see her and he was getting his money's worth.

Eddie moved one arm behind him to unlock the front door and grab his keys from the lock. When the door opened, he begrudgingly let (Y/n) push him back until he was over the threshold like a lovesick puppy waiting outside for her.

His lips curved into a deadly smirk that flashed his teeth when (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and tugged him down to press a feverish kiss to his lips. She let him swipe his tongue across her lower lip, begging for entrance before she pulled back, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' and 'goodbye' against his lips before giving him a final nudge out the door.

He needed to go to work and she needed to get the kid's tea ready.

***

Reaching her hand across the bed, (Y/n) feathered her fingers over the cover and up towards the pillow.

Cold. Empty.

Of course it was empty; Eddie was at work tonight. He wouldn't be back until tomorrow night, probably after the kids were all in bed by the time he finished his shift and got showered at the station before leaving.

(Y/n) didn't like the nights where Eddie worked during the night, she didn't like an empty bed. She liked to hear Eddie's soft breathing that worked as background noise to get her to sleep. She liked to feel the cover being stolen and tangled around his legs as he twisted from left to right. Or the feeling of an arm draping over her waist or a nose tickling her neck and tucking into her shoulder. All of that compared drastically to being curled up, alone in the bed.

She tucked her face down into the pillow and shuffled into the middle of the bed. It was entirely strange to have the bed to herself, without Eddie or at least one of the kids sneaking in to lay with her.

Sleep pulled at her mind as she curled up on herself, wishing the night away. (Y/n) was tired enough that it shouldn't be a problem falling asleep tonight like previous nights where she laid awake.

(Y/n) could feel her head slowly spinning and twisting from left to right in that usual manner that signalled she was going to fall asleep at any moment.

Until something shattered.

Her body jolted upright in bed and her hands scrunched up in the bedsheets. A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine as she tried to blink through the darkness, forcing her brain to clear from the fog rolling in and set her ears to work.

What smashed? Was it just (Y/n) imagining things? Once or twice she thought she heard something as she drifted to sleep, but Eddie had never heard it so she always presumed it was a dream about to start that woke her up.

But she knew she heard something this time. Had Chris or Daisy gotten up for a drink and dropped a glass or knocked into something? Perhaps something had happened at work and Eddie was coming home early for some reason. That didn't seem liable. Eddie hadn't been gone more than seven hours, and if he was coming home he would of called (Y/n) first.

Another rumble of glass breaking caused (Y/n) to cringe and coil her legs up to her stomach. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

Her legs turned to jelly as she swung them over the side of the bed and slowly got out of bed. She switched on the lamp and coiled her arms to her chest, forcing herself to take steady breaths as she tiptoed to the bedroom door.

It took a lot of willpower for (Y/n) to try and open the door as slowly as possible so it didn't creak or make a sound. She put one foot into the hall and tried to peer round. It was too dark to see anything and (Y/n) gulped, holding her breath as she inched a few paces down the hall, staying as close to the wall as she could.

"Oh no."

The window beside the front door was smashed. Glass littered the hallway. One of the picture frames on the side table had been knocked to the floor. And the street light outside illuminated the front door enough for (Y/n) to see a large stocky frame at the door.

Someone was trying to break in.

Why now? Why tonight of all nights, when Eddie was out at work and (Y/n) was home alone with the kids?

Why their house? What was so special about their home that someone thought they should try their luck breaking in at midnight?

(Y/n) could feel sweat coating her palms as she pressed them against the wall and tried to keep her front flush against the wall to blend in with the dark night shadows. Her knees quivered and threatened to give way as she shuffled along the corridor, afraid to take big steps in case a floorboard creaked and gave away that someone was awake in the house.

Her hand shook as she slowly twisted the handle on Chris's door and she stumbled into his room, gliding across the carpet until she could plonk herself down on the side of his bed.

"Chris? Baby, baby wake up." Her voice was higher in tone than usual but as quiet as she could be without croaking or going silent.

The ten year old gasped, jolting his head forward and reaching a hand out to grab (Y/n)'s arm in shock. The pitch black of the room gave away that it was still night time. He wasn't waking up late for school, it didn't feel like he had even been in bed for that long so he wasn't sure why his mum was vigorously shaking him to wake him up.

"Mum?"

"Shh, baby I know it's late but I need you to get up and go into my room. Now."

"Why?"

Chris sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. What was going on? Was someone sick? Did they have to go somewhere in the middle of the night? The only time something like this had happened was when (Y/n) went into early labour with Rosie during the night. Chris had been abruptly woken up by his dad and told to get his shoes on and get in the car to go and stay with Buck. This wasn't remotely the same as that.

He went to reach out for his glasses on the side table, but he gasped when his mum reached forward and held him beneath his arms. She got up off the bed and lifted him with her to get him on his feet.

He heard her whisper "Emergency," as she kissed the top of his head and ushered his sleepy, stumbling frame towards the open door.

Chris grabbed the doorframe, unable to see properly in the dark, especially without his glasses. But when he stepped into the hall, he couldn't help but look to the right when he heard something pound on the front door.

Tears welled up in his eyes before he understood what was happening and he let his mum usher him into her room. His arms bound around his chest and he stood near the end of the bed, shaking on the spot while he watched his mum scurry into the girls' bedroom.

"Daisy, Daisy, up sweetheart. Go to mummy's room quickly for me."

The four year old grumbled in discontent, but she didn't argue for some reason. She let (Y/n) lift her out of her bed with the Fireman Sam bedding and she cuddled her teddy to her chest as she swayed and stumbled towards the door. She seemed to believe she was going to sleep in bed with her mum tonight and didn't quabble.

(Y/n) watched Daisy pad across the hall before she leaned down into the cot and scooped Rosie up. She cuddled her youngest to her chest, smothering her lips against the top of Rosie's head to try and calm herself down and she rushed back into her room and shut the door.

"Mum?" Chris reached out to hold her arm, pushing into her side for comfort and security because he felt utterly terrified.

"Daisy off the bed. Everyone in the bathroom please."

"But I don't-"

"Now." (Y/n) hissed and nudged Daisy in front of her before her daughter had chance to tell her she didn't want nor need a bath. She'd had a bath before tea time and she had been in bed, since when did they get a bath in the middle of the night?

(Y/n) snatched her phone from the side table and ushered the pair of them into the small en-suite that adjoined her and Eddie's bedroom.

She went to turn the light on but stopped herself. The light automated the extractor fan. Whoever was trying to break in would be able to hear it when the house was this quiet and (Y/n) had no idea if it was just one person trying to burgle them or not. There could be someone outside who would notice if she turned the light on.

She opted instead to turn on the small LED light over the bathroom mirror, it wasn't much but it was enough.

Once Chris and Daisy were inside, (Y/n) quietly pushed the door shut and turned the lock. Her eyes scanned around the small space. Nowhere to hide, no advantage points.

"Okay…" (Y/n) could feel her body shaking as she carefully knelt down on the floor next to the kids and eased Rosie down onto the bathmat. The toddler was starting to stir. "In the bath for me."

"I don't want one." Daisy's voice was meek and she rubbed her eyes again. The darkness was making her want to fall back asleep but once a loud bang rickoted through the house, the little girl gasped and jumped against Chris. Both of them watched (Y/n) shudder and jolt against them.

The front door had swung open and hit the wall. That meant whoever it was had now gotten inside the house.

"We're not getting a bath, baby, just sitting in the tub until it's safe."

"Who's at the door?" Daisy's voice held no power or tone and she spoke in a whisper like she subconsciously understood the situation.

"I don't know."

Chris on the other hand, didn't say anything. He understood immediately and he knew they were in a bad situation. He scrambled to turn around and slowly climb over the side of the tub. He didn't like sitting in an empty bath, it was cold and it echoed badly, but he did as he was told. He opened his arms so that when (Y/n) carefully picked Daisy up and sat her in the tub, his little sister could sit between his legs and cuddle up into him.

(Y/n) eased Rosie back up into her arms and settled her on her chest with her face nuzzled down beneath her collar bone. She tried to stop herself from trembling, desperate to keep Rosie asleep because if she cried she would giveaway their hiding place.

She got up from the floor and carefully climbed into the end of the tub and sat on the little ledge between the end of the tub and the wall. (Y/n) had to tense her muscles to stop her feet from jittering against the bottom of the tub and she pulled the shower curtain across to hide them all. Not that it would provide much safety or cover, but it was the best she could do.

Each breath (Y/n) tried to take was shallow and raspy and it made her go lightheaded. She felt her chest tingling and her stomach flooded with adrenaline to the point she felt like she was going to be sick or somehow explode.

She felt Chris and Daisy edge close until they were both leaning up against her legs for protection and comfort.

With Rosie curled up into her chest, (Y/n) tried to hold her as best she could with one arm so she could get her phone from her pocket and dial Eddie's number.

Please pick up. Please answer me!

Eddie seemed like a safer bet than calling 911. She wanted Eddie to come home and help them. She needed him to know what was going on. (Y/n) didn't want the headache of whispering and probably crying to a dispatcher. Trying to tell them her name and address and how many people were in the house was going to be much harder than simply calling Eddie for assistance.

"Amor? It's late, is everything okay?" Eddie's voice was like music to (Y/n)'s ears and she felt a tear trickling down her cheek as she silently thanked him for answering so quickly.

He wasn't used to a midnight call like this, not unless they had been texting beforehand. This meant something was wrong, Eddie knew (Y/n) wouldn't just ring him out of the blue, late at night like this when he was at work. He could feel his heartbeat picking up already at the thought of what he was about to be told.

"Eddie, I think- I think there's a burglar."

"What?"

"I can hear someone, and one of the windows has been smashed. Please, please can you come home?"

This was one of his worst nightmares. Something happening to his family while he wasn't there. It had been his fear when he was in the army and (Y/n) was pregnant. He worried something would happen to her or she would have the baby without him. He worried being in another country entirely and not on the end of the phone if someone broke in and hurt his family. He feared not being able to be there if they were hurt or frightened and needed him.

(Y/n) could hear him cursing in the background and she could make out the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he started to breathe deeper, indicating he was now running somewhere.

"We're coming now, okay? We're on our way and I'll get dispatch to send a squad car down. Where are you?"

"We're all in the bathroom." (Y/n) kept her voice quiet when she heard something clattering in the house. It sounded distant which meant whoever it was, they weren't in the hall or near the bedrooms.

That might give them some time to stay here undetected while Eddie and the team rushed down to help them.

They had never been burgled before. (Y/n) had never woken up to someone trying to break in or someone coming in and attacking her. She'd never had to hide the kids with her like this and call for help. Their house back in Texas had been out the way and their only neighbours were Eddie's parents and a little old couple in the next property line.

This was a nice house in a safe neighbourhood. Break-ins didn't happen round here.

"I'm on my way amor, I swear. I'll be there soon."

***

Eddie didn't wait for the truck to roll to a stop. Once they were outside his house, he flung the door open and jumped down, bracing his knees upon landing so he could take off into a sprint.

He could hear the rest of the team calling after him, but their voices drowned out in the night air. He didn't care for them telling him to hang back and wait. That was his home. That was his family. He wasn't waiting for the police to give the all clear, he was going in.

And by the looks of it, Eddie would guess that Athena had only just arrived on scene.

Bobby had called her to let her know of the situation and ask for back up and Eddie had seen her and her partner head inside his home. He was going in now, he was going to find his family and make sure they were alright.

"Eddie!" Bobby's voice hissed behind him as the Captain followed him up the garden path and in through the front door.

The lights were off, Eddie wasn't sure whether he was expecting it to be dark in the house or not, but it unsettled him either way. He saw Athena's partner looking round the seemingly empty living room and he skidded down the hall to follow Athena into the kitchen.

He hung back a step, mostly because Bobby's hand found his shoulder and squeezed tight, as a warning.

They both watched as she flicked on the light and pointed her gun at the tall figure stood near the sink.

Why was this person in the kitchen? There was nothing of value or interest in here. What was he planning to steal, the pots and pans?

He didn't have a bag or a rucksack to put any valuables in. There didn't look to be any ornaments missing in the living room from the sneaking glance Eddie stole. The only damage so far was the busted window and broken picture frames near the front door which had dented the wall when it swung open. If this was a robbery, it was carried out by a very bad thief.

"Hands where I can see them." Athena's voice was calm but stern with a demanding tone that rung out through the air.

The stranger spun round a little too quick for himself and his head swayed back as he stumbled, steadying himself at the last moment by leaning on the island counter.

Eddie narrowed his eyes, his lips curling as he studied the man who had broken into his house. He looked drunk. He could barely keep his eyes open, he was swaying his head back and forth and his sense of balance was very clearly distorted.

"What are you doing?" Eddie couldn't help himself. He had to ask when he realised the man had one hand on the counter and the other was clutching one of the glasses from the cupboard.

"G-getting a drink?" The stranger hiccupped through his words which caused his head to snap back and his trembling hand let the glass drop down on the counter with a resounding clatter.

He was getting a drink? Was he being serious?

"Jesus Christ. You broke into my house for a drink?" Eddie couldn't help but tut as he dragged his hand through his hair and shook his head in disbelief.

This idiot had broken into his home, frightened his wife and kids, all so he could get a drink? Did he know whose home he had broken into? Did he have any clue what time it was, what was going on, or that there was indeed a young family in this house who were currently petrified while he tried to make himself a drink?

"You're house-" Confusion was clearly written across the man's face. A deep frown set in his brows and he turned to look around the kitchen as if he wasn't even sure where he was.

A deep sigh left Athena's lips as she clipped her gun back into her holster and exchanged it for a pair of handcuffs.

"Okay. You're under arrest for breaking and entering, let's go for a ride to the station. See if you can sober up."

He didn't reject the handcuffs. He let his head hang forward and allowed Athena to drag him from the kitchen, practically holding him up as he stumbled and swayed back and forth. He was drunk out of his head. Either he thought this was his home and he'd simply lost his keys, or he thought this was the home of a friend and he was fine to blunder in like this.

Eddie felt Bobby pat his shoulder and a silent exchange passed between them. This was a good thing. This wasn't someone trying to steal things from his home or attack his family or terrorise them. This man hadn't hurt any of Eddie's family and he hadn't approached them or even given them one thought.

This was the best outcome they could have hoped for.

With a shake of his head, Eddie twisted and jogged out of the kitchen. (Y/n) said she was in the bathroom. He needed to go in and tell them everything was okay if they hadn't already heard the team blundering into the house.

He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and sending his hand shaking as he opened the bedroom door. He flicked the light on as he passed and slowed his steps when he reached the adjoining bathroom.

"Baby? Baby it's me, can you open the door for me?" Eddie rapped his knuckles on the door while his other hand clutched the doorframe tightly to try and keep himself under control. His forehead pressed into his arm and he could feel his foot jittering against the floor out of anxious habit.

He could hear odd sounds and things being moved about before quiet footsteps approached the door. And the way the lock slowly unclipped signalled that (Y/n)'s hands were shaking too.

Relief swarmed through (Y/n)'s stomach and caused her knees to quake when she peered through the gap in the door and set her sights on Eddie.

Tears streamed freely down (Y/n)'s face and she could see black dots twinkling in front of her eyes when she swung the door open and rushed forward. Her arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and she meshed her face against his shoulder. The feel of his arm bound tight around her waist and his other hand curling around the back of her neck made (Y/n)'s breathing hitch in her throat.

He was here. They were safe. Everything was okay.

"Oh baby. You all okay?" Eddie smothered his lips against the side of (Y/n)'s head and slowly walked her backwards into the bathroom. He could feel her trembling in his arms and he worried if he let her go her legs might cave in.

"Did you get him? Who was it?"

"A fucking drunk, Athena's arrested him. He had no clue where he was, but I don't think he would of done anything if he saw you. Small mercies."

When his sights set on the bath, he could feel his heartstrings being cut, dropping his heart right down to the pit of his stomach.

The kids were petrified.

Chris was sat in the bath, slowly rocking back and forth to try and keep himself calm. He had his arms bound around Rosie who was sitting up between his legs, hand stuffed into her mouth as she sniffed, clearly about to cry. Chris had his cheek resting on top of her head, tears streaked down his face and panic written across his features.

Daisy was sat next to him, cuddled up into his side as much as she could with one hand around Chris's arm and the other binding her teddy to her chest.

Eddie eased (Y/n) down so she was sat on the side of the bath and he crouched down beside her so he could reach his arms forward for the kids. He carefully eased Rosie from Chris's protective embrace, pressing a kiss to her temple before he let (Y/n) take her from him to soothe her.

"Are you two okay?" He braced himself on the heel of his boots when Chris barrelled forward into his chest with his arms looped around Eddie's neck. And he moved his left arm out for Daisy when she whined and scrambled up to latch onto him too like she thought she was missing out.

"W-where's the bad man?"

"Bobby and Athena got him, it's okay. Everyone's safe now."

Eddie shifted his arms a bit lower down around each of them so he could lift them up from the bath. He held one kid in each arm, letting them burrow into his chest while he turned and headed into the bedroom, feeling (Y/n) walking close behind on shaking legs.

He eased them down onto the bed with a kiss to their foreheads and for a brief moment his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s when she sat down. He noticed how she was still shaking and her feet were tapping against the rug while she tried to rock Rosie up and down against her chest, but it was hard when she could barely keep her arms tight around the toddler.

But Eddie twisted to look behind him when Buck cleared his throat, a soft smile on his face as he stood in the doorway with Bobby. He tried to turn in their direction but he stopped when Daisy deadlocked her hands around his arm and pulled his arm into her chest with her teddy.

"Daddy no!"

"I'm just gonna talk to uncle Buck, I won't leave the room flower, I promise." He carded his fingers through her unruly hair and pressed a deep kiss to the top of her head.

It took a few moments for Daisy to debate and confirm that Eddie wasn't lying to her before she grumbled and let go of his arm. She didn't want her dad to leave her sights, he had to stay and keep them safe.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and his cheek against the door. They could both see that all the energy had been drained from him completely. The adrenaline was still rushing through his body, but he was losing the momentum he had earlier on shift. He had never had a phone call or a night like this before and he never wanted to experience it again.

"You'll need a new window, but we've broke all the glass out and drilled some wood there for now so it's secure."

"Thank you."

Eddie hadn't even thought or worried about the window or the front door when he got here. He just had to make sure whoever was invading his home hadn't managed to reach his family or hurt them. But he was grateful the team had bordered up the window pane, it was one less job for Eddie to do.

"I think you'd better stay home tonight." Bobby nodded his head in the direction of the bed behind Eddie where his family was waiting.

He didn't think it was wise for Eddie to come back on shift, not when his mind would only be focused on wondering if his family was okay. And leaving them after this while all of them were shook up wouldn't be in his best interests either. Eddie needed to stay here with his family and make sure they were all okay.

"We'll leave you to it."

"Call if you need anything."

"Thanks," Eddie ran his hand over his face and rubbed at his eyes before he headed over to the bed and crouched down, taking a quick glance at the watch strapped to his wrist. "Okay, it's way past bedtime. Everyone in while I go lock the door."

A strange look crossed Chris's face while Daisy took a deep breath and managed a small smile. She was the first to move, turning around so she could scramble up the bed when Eddie pointed.

There was no way Eddie was letting either of them go back to their own rooms just to lay there and panic. They would end up having nightmares or a panic attack. Even if none of them managed to get any sleep tonight, at least if they had all the kids in bed with them, all of them would feel safe and secure. And Eddie wouldn't have to keep getting out of bed every half hour to go and check on them and make sure they were okay.

When Chris shuffled up the bed, Eddie headed out into the hall. He made quick work of locking the front door and pulling the chain across, something he hadn't done in a while. He kicked off his boots and turned all the lights out as he headed back to the bedroom.

Part of Eddie wished they had a lock on their bedroom door. It would have felt a lot safer to lock the door and keep them all safe in here, but he would have to settle for knowing the front and back doors were both locked and his family would be wrapped up in his arms for the night. Probably for the next few nights if he was being honest. Daisy and Chris were going to be frightened and shell shocked after this. He couldn't see them sleeping in their own beds for at least a week or more.

There didn't look to be much room left in the bed by the time Eddie stripped from his uniform and headed over to try and climb in.

(Y/n) was on her side, Rosie cuddled up on her chest and abdomen, not quite asleep but well on her way. She had Chris laid next to her, already burrowed down under the cover with his head on (Y/n)'s shoulder, tucked up against her side. And Daisy was laid next to him, teddy deadlocked under one arm and her other hand reaching out for Eddie.

"You gonna let me in, flower?" He lifted the cover and waited for Daisy to wriggle so he could just about squeeze in beside her.

He didn't like the way Daisy shivered and Chris made a little disgruntled noise when Eddie turned the lamp off. The dark seemed to ignite worry in all five of them, even Rosie gurgled and started to wriggle around, unsettled.

A soft "Come're," passed Eddie's lips and he twisted to lay on his right side, pulling Daisy closer until she was burrowed into his bare chest. He could feel her pulling her knees up to her tummy and smothering her face into his upper chest like she was trying to curl up into a ball and make herself as small as possible.

With his right hand trailing up and down Daisy's back, he looped his left arm out over Chris and curled his hand around (Y/n)'s arm. Trying his best to keep hold of each of his family.

They were all tucked up together; they were all safe.

[wcbblife]

can you take a request for Kate Martin (or Paige B.) x reader when KM/PB is stress for a upcoming game and she yells at the reader out of frustration but make it up to the reader after?

Hurt/comfort

Take your time and take care 💐✨️❤️

Back to us

a/n: sorry for the delay. the story isn't long. something short and sweet.

warning(s): Paige and reader have a fight.

Time Skip: Second Round of the NCAA Championship 2024-2025 Season

Having to be the heart of her team sometimes proved to be quite challenging for Paige. It had gotten easier to handle with the pressure over time, but the nausea that settled in her chest never seemed to leave her any space for peace whenever big games came around. She had gotten better at hiding how much it affected her, but the one person that she couldn't fool was you.

You walked through the endless maze of hallways in the stadium, trying to find the blonde. Geno had asked you to go about and search for her, finding it unacceptable that she was running late to warmups. After a bit of searching, you knew to look in a particular locker room, knowing that Paige found its silence a bit peaceful.

You find Paige in the empty room, her back turned to you as she stares intently at a locker right in front of her. She seems tense, her shoulders rigid, knees bouncing up and down.

Sensing something is obviously wrong, you decide to approach her. "Paige, are you okay?" you ask gently, trying to break through her concentration.

She doesn't turn to face you, her voice tight with frustration. "Yeah, just… trying to get my head in the game.”

You take a step closer, concern etched on your face. "You've been… really stressed lately. I just wanted to check on you. Maybe we could talk about what's bothering you before you go out?"

Paige finally turns to you, her eyes flashing with irritation. "There's nothing to talk about. I just need to focus. If I lose here, that’s it.”

You sigh, not wanting to back down. "Paige, bottling it all up isn't helping you. Clearly. You can talk to me. I want to be here for you." It wasn’t meant to be anything bad, you just wanted to ease her nerves before such a big game like this. Her last game at Uconn.

She shakes her head, turning back to her locker. "I don't need this right now. I need to concentrate."

"Paige," you insist, walking even closer, "I'm just saying that—"

“Gosh, just leave me the fuck alone!” Paige suddenly slams her palm against the locker, causing a loud bang to echo through the room. You flinch, staggering back as she whirls around to face you, her eyes wide with frustration. “I’m about to have one of the most important games of my life, and you’re on my ass about everything!”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, feeling a lump starting to form on your throat. “Paige, I’m not trying to make things harder for you. I just wanted to help. Calm down and breathe—”

She backs away, still fuming. "You think a deep breath is going to fix everything? I need to be perfect, and I can't do that if I'm stressed the fuck out. Sometimes, it feels like you're just another thing I have to manage!" Tears start to well up in your eyes as her words cut unexpectedly deep. You try to blink them away before they fall, but Paige scoffs when she notices. "Great, now you're crying? I really don't have time for this."

You take a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a fucking asshole. I was just trying to help you.”

There's a flicker of something in her gaze—regret, perhaps—but she quickly looks away. "I can't deal with this right now. I can't deal with you crying and making me feel worse."

You shake your head, tears dinally streaming down your face. "Maybe I should just leave then."

Paige doesn't respond immediately, her jaw clenched as she struggles with her emotions. Finally, she lets out a frustrated sigh, her voice low and strained. "Maybe you should."

You turn your back towards her as you choke out, “Good luck, Paige.”

The arena had emptied, the echo of cheering fans replaced by the muffled sounds of the cleaning crew. Paige sat on the bench, staring at her phone, hoping for a text from you. She had been on edge all night, and her outburst before the game was finally replaying in her mind, torturing her as she tried to get by the questions the media had for her. The tension in her muscles had dissipated, replaced by a gnawing guilt.

She checked her phone again. No messages. No calls.

Paige headed to the locker room. As she passed by the seats, she realized the usual spot you sit at was empty. Her heart sank. You hadn’t even stayed for the game.

“Of course she didn’t you idiot.” Paige massaged her temples, whispering to herself.

Without bothering to change out of her jersey, Paige grabbed her bag and rushed to the dorms. Her steps quickened with each stride, eager to just see you.

Paige knocked on your door, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.

When the door creaked open, she was met with a pair of tired, hurt eyes. You looked at her, then turned away, walking back into the room without a word. Paige followed, closing the door softly behind her.

“Hey,” Paige began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can we talk?”

You sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor. “I don’t know. Can we?” Paige took a deep breath and knelt in front of you, looking up into those eyes she adored so much.

“I messed up. I know I did. I was so stressed, and I took it out on you and it wasn't fair or okay, and I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I was out of line and stupid.” Paige continued, her voice trembling. “You mean everything to me and I hate that I hurt you. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t stop to think about how it would affect you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

It was really hard to stay mad at her, especially after what you two have been through together this past season. You knew it wasn’t easy for her.

Your silence makes Paige fiddle with the fingers on your lap. “You really hurt me, Paige. I know that game was important but I just…” you finally looked at her, “I'm sorry I wasn't there but I just couldn't… I still watched it.” You cock your head towards the TV in your living room, it was playing ESPN. The analysts were discussing UConn's recent victory.

Paige follows your eyes, feeling a pang of guilt as she leans into your lap. Of course you were still watching over her. “I don't blame you for not being there. I was an dick and you didn't deserve that. Gosh I… I'm sorry. I really wanted you there to celebrate.”

“Paige…” You run your fingers through her blonde locks, feeling her melt into your legs. “I know it's stressful for you. You got a bunch on your shoulders,” you detangle some small knots, moving your palms to her shoulders squeezing the tight muscle there, “Buts it's not fair if you’re just going to handle it like that. To me and to our relationship. You lashing out like that was so…”

Paige looks up, eyes red and filled with tears. It made your heart twist. She had been surrounded by praise just a few hours ago and seeing her in front of you with tears didn't feel right. “I'm so sorry. I promise I'll work on it and it'll never happen again��� just please, don't give up on me- on us.”

You sigh, “I'm not going to, Paige. Shit happens.” You cup her cheek and Paige melts into it, “Today's supposed to be a good day for you.”

Paige shakes her head, “Screw that. I need to make it up to you. No matter what.”

You gave her a small smile, “Paige you just won your final game at Uconn, you deserve to decompress at least a little.”

She stays unmoving in front of you. “You sure?”

“I'm sure." You give her a reassuring smile, pulling her up to sit beside you. "How about we celebrate together?"

Paige nods, relief washing over her. "I'd like that."

You wrap your arms around her, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away. "I'm proud of you, you know. You played an amazing game."

She leans into you, her voice soft. "Thanks. I owed it to the people watching.”

After a moment, you pull back and grin. "Let's order some food and watch a movie. Something to take your mind off everything."

Paige's eyes light up, and she nods eagerly. "I'd love that. Anything sounds perfect."

[hahaifolded]

Pay Back - John Price x POC!FemReader

Summary: After learning more about John's love life, you are determined in helping John make his ex jealous. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, Fake Relationship, Mutual Pining, Small Age Gap, Misunderstandings, Slight Angst, Cheating (not by Price or Reader), Suggestive Themes, Military Inaccuracies, Sexism, Microaggressions, Cursing, Attempted Assault, Mild Violence Word Count: 4740

“So Cap'n, how come you're not married yet?” asked Gaz before taking the last sip of his beer. After a grueling mission and what seemed like never endless meetings, Price decided to take the team out for drinks at the local bar. But now as the conversation steered towards his love life, Price was starting to regret his decision.

“Leave the man alone,” scolded Ghost.

“Why? It’s a fair question,” whined Soap. They all looked at Price, waiting for their captain’s reaction.

However, before John could say anything, you returned to the table with 5 beers in your hands. “This round is technically on the man in the suit but seeing that I had to talk to him, it’s on me,” you gleamed as you set the beers down in front of the boys. Smiling at them, you plopped next to Ghost, holding one beer in your hand. Gaz and Soap immediately reached for one as the lieutenant nudged you, almost in gratitude. John thanked you for the drink, eyes stuck at how close you sat next to Ghost.

You were the CIA liaison, handpicked by Laswell to work with the 141. Despite being hesitant at first, Price couldn’t be happier with your arrival as you brought a much needed balance to the taskforce. You immediately matched Soap’s and Gaz’s energy, eased yourself in Ghost’s reserved sphere, and made Price’s life so much easier.

But, at the same time you also complicated it as he found himself developing a small crush on you. Instead of acting on it, however, John maintained a level of professionalism with you. First of all, he was your direct superior. In additional, he couldn’t bring himself to rob you of your youth as you were closer to Ghost's age than the old man. And besides, he suspected that something was brewing between you and Ghost with how close you two were and he wasn’t going to get in the middle of that. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t have you.

“So, what are we talking about?” you asked. Ghost tried to change the topic but Gaz beat him to it.

“I was here asking the cap'n why he hasn’t gotten married yet. But your buddy here thought we were doing too much,” informed Gaz with mischief in his eyes. Soap let out a deep chuckle as Ghost let out a disappointed sigh.

“Oooh wait, I want to know the answer, because not to be weird, but you’re an absolute catch, Captain. I’m surprised you don’t have someone waiting for you back home,” you let out. Clearly, the alcohol was starting to affect your self control.

With all the attention on him, John took a swig from his beer for some instant courage. “It’s not like I haven’t wanted to. I just haven’t had the best of luck finding a woman after my fiancée left.”

“What!” you and the boys gasped in unison. Now Price was regretting this whole night. Letting out an exasperated breath, John shared his tragic story.

Of how he was engaged with his high school sweetheart, Anna. How Anna and him planned to get married after his first deployment. But, something went wrong and Price accidentally caused his lieutenant at the time to break his leg. Feeling guilty, he signed up Anna to take care of the man while John and the rest of the team finished the mission. And after a month out in the desert, John came back to find his lieutenant shagging his fiancée. Heartbroken, the now-SAS captain left and threw himself into his work. The last he heard of them was that they got married as they kindly sent him an invitation. Everyone stared at John, in disbelief at his story.

“That is horrible, Cap'n. I didn’t mean to pry. If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked,” apologized Gaz. Soap and Ghost seconded him. Price just sheepishly smiled, assuring them it was fine.

“IT’S NOT FINE!” you asserted as you slammed your beer on the table. Your eyes burned with anger. You immediately turned to the team and waved your arms. “We need to do something about this!” you incredulously announced.

“And I think you need to stop drinking,” said Ghost as he grabbed your beer.

“Back off,” you said as you pulled your beer away. “I say we call Laswell, borrow some nuclear codes, and blow them up!”

“Oh, she for sure needs to stop drinking,” joked Soap. Gaz and Ghost broke out in a deep laugh, amused by your suggestion. You looked at the men with wide eyes, unable to understand why they weren’t ready to start a riot. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe someone could do such a thing to their fiancée and teammate. As a victim of cheating yourself, your heart ached for John.

You turned your gaze to Price and reached for his hand. John felt his face burn as your fingers intertwined with his. You looked deeply into his eyes and shared, “John, I know we haven’t known each other for long, but just know that what Anna and your lieutenant did to you is absolutely unacceptable and if I could,” you paused to take in a deep breath. John couldn’t help but feel shy under your gaze. “I would get revenge for you… just say the word.” Ghost pulled you back, letting you know that was enough.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” admitted Price. As much as it hurt, John learned to live with the betrayal. It wasn’t the last time he would be betrayed so he tried not to dwell too much on it. Sure, it severely hurt his view on romance but he was a SAS soldier for Christ's sake, he didn’t necessarily have time for it either.

Soap immediately changed topics, opting to talk about his recent slew of dates and how each one was a dud. Price tried to pay attention to his sergeant’s antics but found himself glancing at you as you opted to scroll on your phone instead. Whatever you were looking for, you seemed determined.

After half an hour of Soap talking, you started to whisper in Ghost’s ear, shoving your phone in the lieutenant’s face. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a clear sign that he was amused by whatever you were showing him.

“What’s got you two so cozy over there?” asked Soap with a slight lilt in his voice.

“Nothing,” you sang. You looked up at Price. “Quick question, can Ghost and I get next weekend off to go to,” you paused to look at your phone, “Edinburgh?”

“Why?” His heart sank. Maybe you and Ghost were a lot closer than he thought.

Ghost laughed. “Seems like our little spy here found your old lieutenant and ex and wants to pay them a visit.”

“I just want to talk... promise.”

Soap and Gaz immediately grabbed your phone, curious to see the woman who broke their captain’s heart.

“That's her?!" shouted Gaz. He immediately stopped when Price shot him a glare.

“And who’s the man next to her? Her dad?” inquired Soap as Gaz handed him your phone. Price took a peak at it. His eyes widened.

“Nope, I think that’s my old lieutenant. Lt Murphy,” informed Price. He didn’t expect to see his old lieutenant look so sad. He remembered how the man used to exude strength and respect, something that John admired when he was younger. Now it looked like the years finally caught up to him.

“Well, whoever he is, he needs to make his Facebook likes private. It’s clear he has a type,” you added as you grabbed your phone. The man’s account made your skin crawl. You couldn’t believe that such a disgusting man was able to steal your boss’ fiancée right under his nose.

“So what do you say… can we get next weekend off?” you asked again, throwing out your best puppy dog eyes to Price. Your desire to defend your captain was making John feel so good but so wrong at the same time. Ghost was a lucky man.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, you and I have the ball next week,” informed Price. To his dismay, Price had been called to London to be this year’s distinguished guest at the annual military gala. John absolutely hated the event as instead of celebrating the real valiant efforts of soldiers like his men, it was a just a sad dick measuring contest between men who forgot what real bravery was. The only silver lining was his plus one, you.

“Oh fuck, you’re right,” you recalled. You grabbed Ghost by his arm and told him to hold off on the plan which made the masked man chuckle. Price gripped his beer a little tighter to refrain from lunging at his teammate. At least he had you to himself next weekend.

— — —

“I really can’t believe you forgot to pack deodorant,” you playfully scolded your captain. After checking in to the hotel, you and Price made a quick trip to the store.

“Well, we’re not all as sharp as you, love,” he quipped. Love. That got your heart beating. Despite the boys calling you love regularly, it only ever made your heart flutter when Price said it. You knew it wasn't right, but you yearned for the man next to you. No one knew but Ghost who quickly became your confidant. However, you knew that John wasn't interested as he always kept you at arm's length, forcing you to be content with just being his co-worker.

You and Price immediately split up once inside. Price made his way towards the men’s toiletries while you perused the surrounding area.

As you looked at some vitamins, you heard a woman shriek your captain’s name. You peered over and felt your eyes almost jump out of your head. In front of John Price was a blonde woman close to his age greeting him like he was an old friend. But she was nothing close to that as it was Anna, his cheating ex-fiancée. The audacity of that woman as she tried to catch up with John like it wasn’t her fault for why it’s been a “long time no see.”

Seeing your captain look so uncomfortable made you see red. You quickly grabbed a nearby product, switched your ring from one finger to another, and made your way to Price with a plan in mind

— — —

John never wanted to die more in his life. Anna, who was once the love of his life before she discarded him like trash, stood in front of him, trying to make the most awkward small talk ever.

“So John, how have you been?” she asked.

Before John could answer, he felt a smooth hand run around his waist, dropping something in his basket. His breath got stuck in his throat when he realized it was you. You pressed up against him, head on his shoulder. He turned his head to find your face a mere few inches away. You flashed him a wide smile, eyes shining with love and adoration.

“Found what we’re looking for, baby,” you said with a wink. John looked down to see that you had dropped a big box of condoms in his basket. His mouth salivated. You giggled as you grabbed on to his arm, completely attaching yourself to his side. He must be dreaming.

“Who’s this, John?” interrupted Anna. Despite having a smile on her face, her voice sounded tense, almost accusatory.

“This is (Y/N), my—“

“Fiancée,” you finished. You extended your hand out, showing off a ring on your fourth finger. You quickly pulled it back and placed a quick kiss on John’s cheek, further staking your claim on the man. John smiled back as he realized what you were doing. He found himself falling for you more.

“Oh wow, congrats! Can’t wait to get an invite,” quipped Anna. John felt your grip tighten around his arm.

You looked up at John, confusion written on your face. Turning back to Anna, you innocently asked, “I’m sorry, but who are you? I don’t think John’s told me about you.” John knew that hit a cord in his former fiancée as she always needed to be the center of attention.

Before Anna could say anything, a rough voice boomed from the back. “How many fucking times have I told you not to walk away while— John?” John’s day just had to get worse as Lt. Nick Murphy stood in front of him, next to his former fiancée, eyes wide at seeing Price.

“Wow, look at you, you’re all grown up now. Tell me what are you up to these days?” asked the man as he puffed out his chest. With you wrapped on his arm, John felt a burst of confidence surge through him. He straightened his posture and proudly shared his promotion to captain for special forces. John had to admit that it felt good to see his former lieutenant shrink a bit when he said that.

"Good for you, my boy. But I do have to ask, who's the cute thing wrapped around your arm?" he asked all smugly. John didn't like the way he looked at you. John instinctually grabbed your hand and proclaimed you as his fiancée.

"Who would have thought that John Price would have grown up to be a cradle robber?" joked the man. Price felt himself sink a little. Sure, you were slightly younger than the man, but he didn't think that the age gap was that obvious.

"Oh please, I had to practically beg the man to go on a date with me," you defended him with a giggle. Unable to read the room, Murphy continued to small talk and asked what brought you both here. You immediately jumped in and gushed about how your man was this year's distinguished guest at the gala. John liked the way you claimed him as yours. But unfortunately for the both of you, they too were here for the celebration.

"You know what, John? Why don't you and the girl come over for dinner tonight? We're renting an apartment in the city. Anna here can cook us some dinner and we can all catch up over some beers," announced Murphy.

"Fiancée," mumbled John. Pretend or not, he was proud to call you his. You tugged on his arm, similar to when an owner pulls on their dog's leash to stop them from lunging. You laid your head on his arm, waiting for John's response.

John was a good soldier and a decent captain, but when he accepted the invitation, he knew he wasn't a good man.

-- -- --

"Are you sure you're fine with this?" Price asked the millionth time as you reached the London apartment. Dressed in a cute sundress that accentuated all of the right parts, you fixed Price's collar, making sure that your fiancé looked the part.

"Yes, John." You rolled your eyes. "I don't think you realize how badly I want to see you win here," you said as you smoothed out the wrinkles on his shoulders. You had to admit, your captain looked good in a white button up. "And don't be scared to touch me, okay? We really have to sell this if we want to win." John laughed at your words which made your cheeks warm.

"Of course, love." There it was again. Walking hand in hand, you both walked to the door.

"Wait," you said. You unbuttoned the first few button's of John's shirt. "Show her what she missed out on." You couldn't help but feel pride at seeing Price's cheeks turned slightly red. Clearing his throat, John knocked. You immediately wrapped yourself around his arm and pressed a small kiss on his cheek at the door opened.

Anna opened the door and excitedly greeted John. The woman was not afraid to hide her distaste towards you as venom dripped in your greeting. Ushering you both in, you and John found Murphy sitting in the living room, beer in hand, lazily watching television.

"John, my boy! Take a seat. Dinner should be ready soon," he hollered. John took a seat on the recliner as he refused to sit on the couch next to his old lieutenant. Without shame, the old man patted the space next to him, calling you over. Your skin prickled as you recalled his type which you unfortunately fit perfectly.

Before you could deny his offer, John immediately pulled you in his lap. "No need. She already has the best seat in the house." He planted a loud kiss on your cheek. Fuck. You knew John was strong, but feeling him so close further proved the man he was. Feeling tonight's host scan your figure, you settled yourself further on your captain's lap.

"John, I made your favor-- oh. Well look at you, someone got comfortable," commented Anna as she walked in with a plate of sausage rolls. Unlike her husband, she glared at you. You just giggled to further get under her skin.

"Sure did," added John as he adjusted you on his lap. Quickly, Murphy and John engaged in some small talk over tonight's football game. John kept a gentle grasp on your waist, occasionally kissing you on the cheek whenever the conversation lulled. Despite being in the warm embrace of your captain, your blood ran cold whenever Murphy's eyes trailed over your body.

Eventually, Anna called you all over to the dining table as she finished cooking. Dinner started off quiet as the tension in the room became too obvious to ignore. Eventually, Murphy decided to speak up.

"So tell me, John, how did you meet this pretty thing?" You loathed this man.

John choked on his food, realizing that neither of you had settled on a backstory. You could sense your captain's hesitation. Grabbing the hand next to you, you decided to take the lead.

"I know it's kinda cliche but I was actually his assistant," you began. "I tried being professional, but the heart wants want it wants. You guys might understand." Feigning ignorance, you looked past the knowing looks in your hosts' eyes and turned your gaze to Price.

"He is literally everything that a woman could want... kind, strong, resilient... handsome. He turned me down at first as John is nothing but respectful, but now after 2 amazing years, we're set to get married in a few months." You kissed him on his lips to seal the deal.

Maybe it was too much, but if this was going to be the only time you could say he was yours, you were going to fully savor it. Besides it only secured the farce that you two had set up as Anna had a tight smile on her face and Murphy stared at John with clear jealousy in his eyes.

Anna cleared her throat in an attempt to ease her jealousy. "Well isn't that a cute story, right Nick?" Murphy just grunted in agreement. However, Anna was not going to let you have the last word as a smirk appeared on her face. "You know what John, I always imagined you settling down with a girl from back home... you know someone more of your caliber." Your chest tightened. You really couldn't believe the gall on this woman. Before you could respond, John stepped up.

"Funny, I also imagined settling down with someone different, but life has a funny way of working itself out," John said with food in mouth. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. Your heart melted. John really had your back both on the field and here. Anna's face turned red, maybe out of embarrassment or anger. You weren't sure.

-- -- --

Dinner continued with a few jabs here in there from tonight's host, but John could care less. Right now, he was just a man in love, engaged to a beautiful woman. Despite the circumstances and less than ideal dinner companions, John wanted to stay here as long as he could so he could still say you were his. However, his bladder had other thoughts.

Price was set on holding it in, opting to bounce his leg to ease the need. However, as observant as always, you gently laid your hand on his bouncing knee and asked Murphy where the bathroom was.

"Oh, the wife will show you. Anna!" he commanded. John threw you a sheepish smile with eyes asking if you would be fine. After you assured him with a small peck, John followed his ex-fiancée to the much needed bathroom.

Finally alone, John let himself loose. He felt his cheeks warm as he recalled every kiss and touch you two exchanged throughout the night. If the night goes on any longer, John would have no choice but completely claim you. Fuck whatever you and Ghost had. It would just be you and John Price, loving boyfriend, loyal fiancé, and eventually your devoted husband.

John washed those thoughts away as water ran through his hands. As much as he wanted you, he couldn't do that to his lieutenant. Ghost also deserved happiness and there it was incarnated as you. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he found himself suddenly being pushed back. Catching him off guard, Anna shoved him against the sink.

She cried out his name and shoved her face into his chest. "Can we please talk? I hate how things ended between us!" Price couldn't believe this woman.

"Fine, but get off of me," he ceded as he gently pushed her off. Anna wiped her nose and sniffled despite not having a single tear on her face. She took in a deep breath and pouted.

"I know what happened was wrong, but I think I was labeled the bad guy without having a chance to defend myself.”

"Well, I wouldn't call shagging my lieutenant while I'm away as heroic."

And instead of owning up to her mistake, Anna blamed it on John as 'he was gone all of the time.' As John heard the woman's excuses, he couldn't believe that he ever loved her. Now that you gave him a small taste of love, despite it being just a facade, he realized that what he and Anna had was nothing close to it.

Anna placed a hand on his chest, interrupting John from his thoughts. "And now seeing you here as a successful captain, I can't help but feel bad for..." Oh, maybe she was going to apologize after all. "...pushing you into the arms of that slag out there." What. "A man like you deserves a classy woman. So tell you what, I'll come back and we can pick up where we left off." What.

Any affection he possibly still harbored for this woman completely disintegrated. He got in her face. "You watch your mouth," he spat out. "(Y/N) is and will always be a better woman than you. You really think I would entertain the likes of you again when I have literal perfection by my side." Before Anna could rebuttal, a loud shriek followed by a resonant slap rung through the apartment.

John immediately rushed back to find Murphy hunched over, hand on his cheek, and you next to him with your dress slightly disheveled.

"You fucking bitch," roared Murphy, lifting his hand to strike you. John ran forward and pinned the man against the table, holding him down by his neck. His heart broke when he saw tears welling in your eyes.

John looked at you and asked, "What happened?" He tried softening his voice, but he couldn't completely mask his anger. He felt horrible. This was all his fault.

"The fucking cunt here seduced me, that’s what happened," responded Murphy through bates breath.

Further pushing him down, John spat out, "I wasn't talking you." He asked you again. With a wobble in your voice, you shared how Murphy made a move on you. Despite denying him, he grabbed you and tried kissing you. Left with no choice, you slapped him across the face.

"Don't act all innocent. You were literally begging for it all night," fought Murphy. John was in disbelief. Was this really the man he admired all those years ago? Of course it was. This was the same man that stole his fiancée. Ready to pummel his face, he looked back at you one more time and immediately calmed down. You looked so broken. Not wanting to further aggravate you, he steered away from violence... for now.

John lifted up the man and threw him towards his wife. "Honestly, you two are perfect for one another," he spat out, venom clear in his voice. “Two muppets that think way too highly of themselves when they have no reason to.”

He grabbed you by the hand and continued, “you two are nothing compared to (Y/N). I don't even come close but everyday I try to be a better man just for her unlike you two who seem to get worse with every day. Don’t you dare come tomorrow or I’ll promise I'll make both of your lives a living hell.” And with that, John made his way out with you in hand.

“Oh please, who do you think you are?,” accused Murphy, following closely behind.

You turned around. You had enough. With fire in your eyes, you decided to spit back. “He might not be able to do anything but I promise you, I can and will. I have access to enough information to destroy anyone's life, especially low-lifes like yours. So don’t you dare insinuate that either of us are beneath either of you. Because at the end of the day, John is a great man and I am the successful woman right by his side. I know my and John’s worth and trust me, neither of you come close.”

“You bitch!” snarled Murphy as he lunged for you. It seemed that he forgot that John was still an active soldier as the SAS captain immediately threw a punch in his face. Anna rushed to the man as blood gushed out his nose. With that, you and John stepped out of that disgusting apartment.

— — —

The ride home was quiet. The only sign that your captain was alive was the gentle hold that he had on your hand. Occasionally, his thumb would rub your hand but when you would squeeze back in recognition, he would stop. His face was blank. But you knew your captain. He was probably taking the blame for the entire night which was far from the truth.

The ride up the elevator was also quiet. You snapped when it seemed like the walk to the rooms was going to be quiet too.

“Okay John, what’s wrong?”

Silence.

“John, I’m not going to play this game with you. Tell me what’s wrong?”

Price stopped. He opened his mouth but immediately shut it, hesitant to speak

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you pleaded, “John, please, talk to me.” Your captain hung his head down and began to talk.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. I should have known better. They disrespected you and I—.”

You interrupted him. “John, you weren’t the one who disrespected. If anything you defended me and made sure I was okay.” You cradled his face. “So stop blaming yourself for the actions of others, okay?” John grunted in agreement, eyes looking down.

“John,” you warned. He looked you in your eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled out. You laughed at his boyish antics.

In no time, you both reached your rooms that were side by side. Once inside, John Price would no longer be your fiancé. Before you entered your room, you called for him one last time.

“I just want you to know that I meant every word today. You really are the greatest man I know,” you said with a smile. You wanted to say more, tell him everything, but you knew you couldn’t. This would have to do. With that, you wished him a goodnight and slipped inside.

— — —

John walked in his room with a heavy heart.

Despite your praise, John didn’t consider himself a good man. A good man doesn’t pine after another man’s woman. Ghost truly was a lucky man. John just had to make do with having you so close but so far.

Thanks for reading! — Folded’s Page Guide + Masterlist

Author’s Notes: First ever COD fanfic! Woot woot! I hope y'all enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts! Imma be honest, everything I know about COD has been aquired through fanfic so if anything is wrong, oops. Also if this has been done before, please let me know as I genuinely didn't know.

Also super sorry for the lack of British/ Scottish accent in the characters. Literally have no clue on how to do it!

I'm still a pretty novice writer so advice and suggestions are always appreciated. I plan on writing more COD fics so if you're interested stick around.

[kyra-cooneyx]

If i can combine two prompts: “I’m wearing your shirt if that’s fine!” and "Can you do my sunscreen please?" with lia wälti if that's alright? Maybe a beach day with the team, bonus points if they are not dating yet

life’s a beach - l.wälti x reader

“if you hit me one more time with that ball mccabe, i will murder you!”

with one last firm glare, you slid the sunglasses back onto your face. laura and leah were chattering quietly beside you, the majority of the team choosing to relax in the sun alongside you.

arsenal’s pre-season was starting in portugal and eventually katie had rounded up some of the other girls to play a few games of rounders. the group surrounding you dwindled until the only remaining were the acl crew, victoria, and lia.

much to your surprise, katie did leave you alone and you flipped onto your stomach with a sigh, reaching into your bag and pulling out your bottle of sun cream.

you sat up and applied more to the front of your body, eyes darting around your scattered teammates to find one that was free. you caught lia’s eyes and gave her a small smile. “can you do my sun cream please?”

there was a little tense moment and for a second you regretted asking her. you could’ve interrupted leah’s conversation, you could’ve launched the bottle at kyra as a question, you could’ve—

“yeah.” lia gently took the bottle and pulled you from your thoughts.

you turned to make it easier to her and when you felt her hands on your back, you convinced yourself that the heat you could feel on your face was definitely due to the sun.

kyra grinned at you from where katie had her stand, expertly dodging the rolled up towel you threw at her and proceeding to throw it back. it hit you in the chest and you fell back with a dramatic yelp, knocking laura’s bottle from her hand and almost squashing poor lia.

you scrambled to your feet and charged kyra, the youngest australian only laughed and had you pinned to the sand in seconds.

“get off.”

“no. in fact i think i’ll let katie bury you in the sand so i can tell lia how you feel.”

you wriggled frantically. “you will not.”

“someone has to.”

“i will kyra, just not right now. at least give me until we go back to london so that we’re not all trapped in an enclosed space.”

the puppy dog eyes worked. kyra nodded with a sigh and stood, pulling you up with her. you somehow got roped into the next game and found yourself on the winning team.

unfortunately katie was on the other team.

you only managed to rub your victory in her face for a mere five seconds before she hauled you up and dragged you towards the ocean, everyone else watching in amusement as you begged and pleaded.

the water was freezing and despite the hot sun, you still shivered as you re-emerged, walking slowly with a jutted lip towards the calmer group.

“we’re at the beach mate,” leah waved you off as you unceremoniously dropped onto a towel and dried yourself off. “we were bound to go into the water eventually.”

“yeah when i’m not fully dressed.”

“i’m sure you’ll live.”

you gave leah a dirty look and settled again, watching the game from the sidelines. after what felt like forever, katie’s team had won and as she shouted something about ice cream you perked up.

since you’d taken your top off to let it dry, you were only wearing a bikini top and you looked around, seeing lia’s discarded shirt. you quickly picked it up and slipped it on.

“i’m wearing your shirt if that’s okay wally!” you shouted as you ran to catch up with kyra and alessia, not giving your swiss teammate a chance to reply.

you linked arms with your two best friends and rolled your eyes at how they smiled at you.

“oh don’t start.” you scoffed.

“we haven’t said anything!” alessia defended the two of them and kyra nodded in agreement.

“your faces say it all.”

nothing else was said or implied when it came to the topic of your feelings for lia. to your face at least. when you decided to get an ice cream for lia, the smirk on kyra’s face was wiped off after one look from steph.

thankfully steph came up with the idea to get all the girls an ice cream and you watched the happiness drain from your friends’ faces, mumbling a quiet thanks to the older australian.

as you arrived back onto the beach, the ice creams were handed out and you handed lia hers with a hopeful smile. “this is your favourite right?”

“yes, thank you.” lia nodded, a small smile on her own face.

there was a few minutes of silence between you and just as lia was about to speak up, victoria and laura decided to see who could make the better sandcastle. kyra immediately ran over, dragging alessia with her to join them and you did too, sitting a bit away since you were going to be the judge.

and if you’d have just turned around, you’d have seen the longing look that lia was giving you.

[fkinkindagauche]

Beware the Suburban Lamprey

For @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2 prompt "bruise".

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1085 | CW: possessive behavior | Tags: hand jobs, a truly overwhelming number of hickeys

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure when his situation with Steve had started. He’d definitely grown fond of the man during the Vecna ordeal, and in the aftermath when Steve had helped him get to and from a million appointments without ever seeming put-out. The other feelings, though. The sexy feelings. Those had crept up seemingly overnight, and were much more difficult to handle. 

Steve certainly wasn’t making it any easier on him. It was summer, and Steve had taken to inviting everyone over to his pool, spending the entire time laying on a lounge chair with the world’s shortest swim trunks on. Steve had also been increasingly invading Eddie’s personal space. It seemed like he was always finding some way to touch Eddie - fingers brushing as he handed him a soda, hair brushing Eddie’s shoulder as he leaned over to see what Eddie was drawing, hand on Eddie’s waist steadying him when he nearly tripped on a rogue pool noodle. 

That wasn’t even the worst of it. He seemed to be flirting with Eddie. Which was really throwing Eddie for a loop, because he could have sworn Steve was the straightest of straight boys. It had gotten so blatant, though, that Eddie couldn’t ignore it. Steve had literally been batting his eyelashes at Eddie while sucking on a popsicle suggestively yesterday. Eddie felt like he’d stepped straight into the Twilight Zone, the only possible explanation for someone like Steve pursuing him. 

Today was even worse than usual. He felt like Steve was staring daggers into him the entire time he’d been playing a rousing game of chicken fight with some of the kids. He kept raking his eyes over Eddie’s body from where he was perched in his chair. As far as Eddie knew, his body was still the same scrawny, pale body with a few mediocre tattoos it had always been, and he wasn’t sure why Steve was trying to burn a hole into it with his stare. After a few rounds of chicken fight, he really couldn’t take it anymore. He retreated into the house, ostensibly to use the bathroom, but really just to get a breather from Steve’s gaze.    

He came out of the bathroom and ran directly into Steve. He squeaked and backed up into the bathroom again as Steve advanced, closing the door behind him. He looked almost angry, eyes repeatedly flitting to Eddie’s neck. 

“Hey, man. Everything alright?” Eddie asked, voice cracking a little.

Steve didn’t say anything, just kept walking Eddie back until Eddie felt the counter against his back and Steve pressed his chest against Eddie’s chest. Then Steve leaned forward and kissed him. 

Eddie let out a startled noise. He had thought Steve was about to yell at him, not kiss him. Steve pressed hard against his lips, and Eddie opened his mouth, his body responding even though his brain had stalled, letting Steve lick past his lips. Steve pressed his hips into Eddie’s and Eddie could feel Steve’s cock hardening against his. He moaned into the kiss and Steve took the chance to press his tongue deeper into Eddie’s mouth, tangling with Eddie’s own. 

Steve pulled away for a second to ask, “Do you want me to keep going?” 

Eddie nodded, too vigorously to maintain any level of chill. “Yes, please.” 

Steve kissed him again, hard, with teeth and tongue and very little finesse, honestly. He seemed hungry for Eddie in a way Eddie would not have expected. He pulled away from Eddie’s lips and trailed kisses down his jawline, heading for his neck. As he started to suck a painful but exhilarating bruise onto Eddie’s neck, he also stuck his hand into Eddie’s swim trunks.

Eddie gasped as Steve’s hand closed around his cock, stroking him. Steve kept sucking bruises into his neck and collarbone and shoulder, but Eddie was too far gone to spare more than a moment of worry about how he was going to look after this. 

Eddie fumbled for the waistband of Steve’s trunks, but Steve batted his hand away, pulling his own trunks down enough to free his cock. He shifted so that he was holding both his own and Eddie’s cock, lined up next to each other, then briefly reached over Eddie toward the counter.

When his hand returned Eddie could see a dollop of lotion in the palm, and then Steve started to jerk both of them off in one hand. Eddie watched, enraptured, then moved a hand down to join in. Steve didn’t bat it away this time. Eddie could feel an orgasm building embarrassingly fast as Steve lowered his head to Eddie’s chest, sucking even more bruises into his skin over his pecs. 

Steve took Eddie’s nipple into his mouth and bit down, and that was enough to send Eddie over the edge. He came into their hands, Steve following not long after. They stood there for a moment breathing heavily. Steve pushed away eventually, grabbing a hand towel to wipe the cum off of their hands and cocks. 

He looked up at Eddie with a satisfied smirk as his eyes ran over Eddie’s neck and shoulders. “Show those to whoever gave you that one,” Steve said, pointing high up on the left side of Eddie’s neck.

“What?” Eddie asked, completely confused. Steve turned him around to face the mirror, and he was stunned by the sight of innumerable bright red marks that would doubtless turn into bruises in a few hours. Steve pointed to an already formed bruise on Eddie’s left, standing out from the brand new marks. 

Eddie laughed and turned to face Steve. “That’s from a vacuum cleaner,” he said. “Gareth stuck it to my neck while I was asleep on his couch.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. “You mean that’s not a hickey?”

“No, it’s not a hickey. Oh my god, were you jealous?” Eddie asked, delighted. 

Steve looked chagrined. “Maybe. A little. I’ve been trying to get in your pants all summer, and then you show up with that? I think I might have gotten carried away.”

“You think?” Eddie said, turning back to the mirror. “You’ve definitely staked your claim over Gareth’s mom’s vacuum, big boy. I look like I’ve been mauled by a lamprey.” 

Steve blushed. “Can this lamprey take you on a date to make up for it?” Steve asked, and Eddie turned back around, smiling. 

“Absolutely.” Steve leaned forward to kiss him again, and Eddie decided he would worry about how to cover up all these marks later. 

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Communication is good. It's wonderful, even! But screaming matches? Especially ones that last this long, aren't healthy in the slightest. In fact, all they do is damage relationships. So, after convincing Barbra and Tim to go upstairs, promising that he'd be up in a few minutes with Dick, he went back to where Bruce and Dick were screaming at each other.

Nothing had been thrown yet. Small mercies.

God, Danny hated being a mediator. Why couldn't people just work out their problems by talking? It'd make his life so much easier. Was that so hard to do? Too much to ask? Apparently.

"And you-!" Bruce rounded on Danny the second he closed the door behind him. "You don't get to come into my house and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Mister Wayne." A few days into his running away, Danny discovered a new power. He can't control it, but sometimes, when he's angry or needs people to shut up, the inside of his throat goes cold and his eyes narrow. It's really cool, from Danny's perspective, and pun fully intended. Something about Mister Wayne had brought that power to the surface, and thank the gods for that because Danny really needs to be listened to right now. "I told you earlier that my name was not a fight you wanted to pick. I think I should reword that. I am not a person you want to pick a fight with."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, meeting Danny's glare with his own. "Is that a threat?"

"Yes, Mister Wayne, that was a threat. And you can hold me to it. I will win any and every fight you try to pick with me."

Dick kept glancing between the two. He had a bad feeling about these two interacting like this, but something was stopping him from getting them apart.

"I have your name and your face. It won't be too hard to get you arrested for several crimes."

"Framing a child, Mister Wayne? Good luck with that. I don't exist anymore. Besides, I can threaten the same thing about Batman, and that holds significantly more weight than anything you could do to my name."

"If you're not scared, then you'll give me your whole name."

"That was a horrible fish for information, Mister Wayne. You're slipping. You must be getting rusty in your old age."

"Danny-"

"Dick." Danny held his hand out to his - on paper - responsible adult, "C'mon, Tim and Barbra are waiting for us upstairs."

Danny lead Dick out of the room, Bruce staying behind and obviously glaring at the back of Danny's head. When the door shut, Dick sighed, every bit of tension he hadn't felt melting off of him. "Sorry about him."

Danny shook his head. "Don't apologise, Dick, you didn't do anything to spark that. However," he glanced at him from the corner of his eye, still holding his hand, "Screaming matches aren't going to fix anything between you two. I don't know if you even want a relationship with him, but he's right. We came into his house, so it's up to us to be polite. You may be his kid, but you are a guest in his home until you two can form some kind of positive relationship. The hostility between y'all right now? That demotes you to 'house guest' instead of 'visiting child'. Got it?"

"..yeah."

"Good. Now, Tim and Barbra are waiting upstairs; go find them."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to go apologise to Alfred."

"Alfred? Why?"

"Bruce may claim this as his house, but Alfred's the one who takes care of it. It's his haunt, so I'm gonna go apologise for almost starting a fight."

"Um, alright..?"

***

Dick found himself wandering into the room that had been given to Tim. It was bare bones and barely looked used, but that's where he found Tim and Babs. He sat next to her.

"Where's Danny?" Tim asked.

"I- He's gone to talk to Alfred for a minute."

"Oh? Why?"

"I don't..he wasn't really clear on that."

"Oh."

The three lapsed into a silence that hovered somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable. Tim was on his bed, messing with something on his phone, smiling occasionally or chuckling softly. Dick and Barbra sat together on the couch against the wall between the two windows. None of them spoke for a while.

It was a lon twenty minutes of sitting, doing nothing. Sometimes one of them shifted, but no conversation was made.

The door opened. "Wow. Did I end up in a graveyard or something? Y'all're quieter than the dead." The three flinched back as if struck. "Sorry, that was in poor taste." He closed the door behind him and sat on the foot of Tim's bed. "Seriously, though, why're y'all so quiet?"

"Waiting for you," Tim answered, "What'd you talk to Alfred about?"

Danny waved his hand in the air as if to physically dispel the words. "Nothing you need to worry about. Good news, though, I have a standing invitation to the Manor, so.."

"Is that a good idea?" Barbra asked, "You and B, well...You didn't really.."

"Yeah," he smiled, "Alfred's given me permission, and that's all I need. I won't be going with you guys to the Bat Cave, though."

"What?" Tim's voice pitched up a bit, "Why?"

"That's Mister Wayne's haunt. Because he doesn't like me, I'm not gonna risk even thinking about going down there."

"But you'll come and go from his house?"

"Yes."

"Weird."

"I don't make the rules, Timmy." Tim snorted softly. Barbra smiled.

"I hate to be the one to bring the mood down again," Dick said, "But why were you wanting to go to the Cave?"

"I just said I wasn't."

"Yeah, but why would you ever need to go down there?"

At this, Danny looked a bit sheepish, turning to look away from the others and rubbing the back of his neck. "Alfred said we're staying the night."

"What!" Dick shot up from his seat.

"Are you coming on patrol with us?" Barbra asked Dick, her eyes expectant.

Tim grinned. "That'd be so cool! You two should totally join us!"

Dick shook his head. "I really-" He cut himself off, making the mistake of looking Barbra and Tim in the eye. He sighed. "Alright, I'll join you guys for the night. But I don't answer to Bruce."

"Yay!"

"Wouldn't expect ya to."

"What about you, Danny?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't do the whole vigilante thing anymore."

"'Anymore'?" Babs raised her eyebrow, "That's a story I wanna hear."

He blushed. "It's really not,"

"You'll be on comms, though, right?" Tim wondered.

"I, um.... Sure. I'll join you guys on comms."

"Yes!"

"But I'm still not going into the Bat Cave."

Part 13 Part 15

[belovedivies]

Gurl imagine, just imagine a rejuvenated peter with his three ducklings, bumping into raphael's older sibling how would that go?

a/n: THREE DUCKLINGS LMAO- i had too much fun writing this piece. this should have came out on a while back but uni whipped my ass rip- anw, enjoy!! cw: minor spoiler, minor character death, they have fun clowning around and absolutely nothing bad happened. wc: 3.6k m.list

offshore ft. multi

The sky above is pitch black by the time Soongu leaves his dorm and heads to their promised spot. He goes for a casual look that evening: gray hoodie, black pants, a pair of Sketcher that soon gathers dust on the outsole when the guy navigates his way through the city’s park, dry leaves crunching with every step. 

His long legs eat up the distance rather quickly, and there isn’t much until a right turn at the local pub leads Soongu down a dimly lit alley. The streetlights on both sides flicker; it’s a beautiful moonless night. He isn’t on his way to another meeting, not really. There’s a certain ease in his movement, fingers drumming slightly against the lining fabric where he digs his hands into his pockets. Soongu feels lighter, easier to breathe somehow. When he crosses by a traffic mirror attached to a rusty-looking post, a young man stares right back at him. He can almost pretend he’s just another boy; no debt of blood and death marring his youthful features.

The exterior of the convenience store looks tame, but his comrades are already there: lazing around on a long bench that overlooks an empty parking lot through a fairly new chain-link fence. They remind him of a bunch of high schoolers. People with obligations rarely extend outside of the established social circles. It’s Simon who sneaks up to him first, wrapping an arm around the boy’s neck with a cocky smirk.

“Sheesh, took you long enough brother. ” His voice booms against Soongu’s ears like bus tires. “We’re about to ditch your ass.”

“As if,” Soongu replies in faux-annoyance, though there’s no denying how his lips curl up into an amused smile. The years have taken a toll on his old pal, but it’s still Simon at the end of the day and no one else. Lost an arm, chipped a tooth, but still ever the loudmouth who fought with him through life and death during their time as Apostles.

One meter away, Jiwon—the woman of their little team—crosses her legs with a wistful look while Alexander McKing rests his head on her thighs, basking in the little head scratches his owner delivers every few seconds. Simon might have always been the boisterous one, but Soongu was surprised to learn that the hangout today was actually her idea. For someone who constantly fusses and loses her cool over the smallest of mistakes that might give away his true identity, trading her usual gold-plated sanctuary for some simple bonding time on a Friday night is a bit… questionable, if not to say downright odd. 

“Jiwon~” Simon sing-songs, still keeping his arm looped around the boy’s neck as his old pal drags him towards the bench. “Bo— I mean Soongu is here, what are the plans?”

“Shut your goofy ass up.” Ah, there is she. Their blind grumpy old mom. Jiwon uncrosses her legs with an irritated face, brows drawn together behind her near-transparent glasses. “I’m trying to remember the name of that BBQ.”

Simon’s face falls at the insult like a child just got robbed of his favorite toy. Soongu lets out a quiet chuckle this time, and it isn’t long until the two of them jump at each other’s throats for another round of bickering. But tonight isn’t about just that. They are here to hang out, as Jiwon has put it—

(—wasted out of her mind halfway past a bottle of Château Margaux. She lamented through the phone about the horrible hangover she had in the morning, yet somehow the suggestion remained.) 

“You wounded me!” The gray-haired swordsman exclaims. He’s feigning hurt obviously, but it’s those next words that manage to get on Jiwon’s nerves. “Didn’t you remember how you used to hang around little ol’ me and fawn like a pup—ow ow!”

“I. Was. Young. And. I. Was. Stupid!” With each syllable, her hand strikes down Simon’s back in a poor attempt to chastise her jerk of a comrade. “I’d never date you in a million years, not even Peter—“

Soongu cocks an eyebrow at the mention of his infamous codename. Jiwon clamps a hand over her mouth as the realization of what just slipped out hits her. Peter. It would have been fine to mention it if all of them were lazing around in her fancy lair with ice whiskeys on the stainless marble countertop, but here they were out in the open. Not to mention the mutual agreement to only refer to Soongu as… well, Soongu.

“Shit, my bad.” She gulps, a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead. The dog continues to curl up and snuggle her lap.

“Careless, aren’t cha?” Taking the chance to tease, Simon bends his knees and flashes Jiwon a toothy grin that she luckily can’t see, but pisses her off enough to the point her jaws clench, ready to wipe it off his stupid face with another punch.

“You little—”

“Alright, break it up.” As fun as it is to watch the shenanigans carry on, that brief mention of his name reminds the boy to interfere in the little fight. He puts his hands on either of his friends’ foreheads, creating some distance lest they decide to headbutt each other into concussion. “You’re forgetting someone.”

Kageo tenses up ever so slightly in Soongu’s peripheral vision, not used to being the center of attention now that the spotlight is suddenly on him. In his white T-shirt and 6’7 frame, their new companion still ominously blends into the background and contents himself watching every interaction. Old habits die hard, Soongu supposes. Back then those shoulders were unshackled by the weight of hatred and revenge, Kageo was but a shadow standing behind Yuika, serving the girl with all his might. Now with the corpse of his first love rotting on the seabed alongside what’s left of their ship, Kageo is forced to be who he thought he has never been before.

Someone who actually matters.

“I’m fine with whatever you suggest.”

It takes a while for a response to come. Humble and demure, typical for the guy. Soongu can’t blame him; it’s hella awkward for four of them to just stand here and do nothing but stare at each other. 

Simon, unsurprisingly, is the one to break the silence. Taking a step forward, the old man pats Kageo on the back. A classic bro move to let him know there’s no hostility between them anymore. 

“C’mon kiddo,” he clicks his tongue playfully. Simon talks to Kageo like an uncle does his nephew, and Soongu can’t help but wonder if it’s a direct result of months of being an undercover guard at that local grade school, “we’re gonna let loose just this one night. Show a little more enthusiasm, will ya?”

The boy in question tenses up, clearly not used to the casual skinship between friends. Then again, he has only ever been with Yuika, and even then there wasn’t really a time for them to “hang out” between the constant killing and running from authority.

Kageo ducks his head with a loud “Y-Yes, Uncle! I’ll try!” that makes Simon’s smile grow impossibly wider around the edge. Almost hard to believe that the swordsman himself was seconds away from slashing the younger boy’s hand back then. Truly the development of all time.

The atmosphere seems to ease up a bit with that interaction out of the way. While the two of them are busy in their bubble, Soongu turns his attention to Jiwon—who somehow chose to stay quiet throughout the past few minutes. It isn’t very much like her, so he takes his spot on the bench next to the woman.

“Are we going in?” He looks over to his comrade, obviously referring to the store next to them.

“Yeah,” Jiwon hums with a smile, sounding happier than what Soongu usually hears from her. The German Shepherd hops off her lap, instead running up to nuzzle against his legs, which the boy happily rewards the dog with more head scratches.

—

This 7-11 smells… nice. Just the usual cleaning chemicals and lavender spray, but still nice. Anything is better than that funky smell of burnt cheese and melted slurpees.

Soongu hasn’t been to that much to draw the conclusion, honestly. Even back then, all he did as a young and invincible Peter was going on missions from one country to another. Between the seemingly endless list of targets to take down and people to protect, his meals only ever consisted of instant noodles and takeouts. Sitting down at a restaurant to enjoy the food was rare, going to a convenience store for it was even rarer. As an Apostle, the boy doesn’t want to risk a mass shooting that would harm innocent citizens. But as a now just-another-D-rank-Glory-killer…

“Danbi!” 

His mom-comrade calls out an unfamiliar name before rushing past him to reach someone. He turns around to see a girl, the store’s logo plastered on her red apron as well as a beverage-filled box in her hands. Interestingly, she doesn’t end up toppling over despite how quickly the woman sprints in her direction to pull this Danbi into a bone-crushing embrace. 

“You brat—” Jiwon grits her teeth, squishing the younger girl’s cheeks together like Play-Doh. Soongu can’t help but wince just by watching the interaction; she really loved to pull this move back when he first revealed his rejuvenated self, “—where the hell were you?! I called you ten times and you didn’t even answer!”

Her aggressive yelling manages to get the other two’s attention, who up until now were eyeing neatly arranged lines of alcoholic drinks inside a freezer at the back of the store. Kageo gives Simon a mild questioning look when they draw closer to the source of drama, an expression that the old swordsman mirrors. Now it just seems like all three of them are at a loss for this new girl’s identity.

“Ow, ow— unnie!” Danbi squeals like an injured animal. With her hands already occupied, she’s helpless against the onslaught of Jiwon’s pinching. “You’re so mean! You know I can’t use my phone during my shift.”

The blind woman clicks her tongue, unimpressed. “I texted 30 minutes ago too, and you left me on read!”

If she plans to guilt her, it works. Danbi deflates with a sigh. Just before she can say anything else, however, Simon chimes in with a question they’re all dying to know.

“Um… who are you, Missy?”

Danbi’s eyes snap open at the unexpected inquiry. She looks like she doesn’t realize they are right there. Soongu notes how her gaze travels from Kageo’s neutral face to Simon’s amputated arm and then—

—to Soongu himself.

She lingers on him for longer too. Three seconds too long, he counts, with just her blank, doll-eyed stare boring holes directly into his skull.

But then the girl shrivels up, bowing until the box in her hands sweeps the ground, bottles of fizzy drink inside clicking together when she says, “I’m Ahn Danbi, nice to meet you!” then proceeds to straighten up her back with a smile so bright it immediately makes Soongu second guess his decision, but to what?

…to what?

Jiwon grins, the joy evident in her voice. Her affection is softer this time as she returns to wrapping her arms around Danbi’s shoulders. 

“Danbi, these idiots are under my care. Idiots, Danbi here is my cousin—“ Alexander walks up and nuzzles its face against said girl’s legs, “—and protégé, too.

Simon looks shocked by the reveal. “We never knew you had one!”

“Now you do~”

The old man just rolls his eyes before turning to the girl, a big smile on his face as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet ya too, kiddo! I’m Simon.”   

“Hello~” Danbi, still holding onto the box, manages to shift its weight into one hand while squeezing out of her cousin’s embrace just enough to catch a handshake, “Unnie told me a lot about you!”

Uh oh, that scratches a spot. Soongu watches as Simon’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree before his old pal makes a smug face.

“Oh, did she?” The guy pretends to his stubble thoughtfully, though not without the smirk still plastered on his face. “I hope she didn’t blast your poor ears off talking ‘bout me. You know how obsessed she is—”

Jiwon does end up punching him in the face this time. 

—

“So you drain the noodles with these right here…”

Danbi gestures to the tiny dots at the edge of the sealing lid. Using the tip of a wooden chopstick, she pokes three holes before lifting the cup noodle up and tipping it forward so the water can escape through the small space. Above her, Kageo looks strangely out of place as he towers over and watches with hawk-like attention. 

“Here you go!” The girl turns back to him, presenting the now soft instant ramen inside. “Now you just need to add the seasoning.”

Kageo tilts his head. He’s more of a lost child than the unfeeling giant Soongu saw on the Ghost Cruise weeks back, void of Yuika’s cunning giggles or million-dollar chandeliers that render him stationary in the golden lights. When she drowned, a part of him no doubt went down along. But here, there’s a small yet still-there glow in those inky eyes when his friend takes the cup, voice filled with curiosity.

“There’s no water?”

“I saved a bit for easy mixing. Other than that,” Jiwon’s cousin gives him a kind smile. Despite the less-than-ideal introduction to their little team, she seems to have no trouble breaking the ice, “this is a type of 'stir-fried’ dry noodle. You picked Buldak Cream Carbonara, which is usually prepared with just the sauce and powder.”

A small hum leaves Kageo’s throat as he takes in the new piece of information. He then gets to work, finishing the rest of the preparation by mixing two said packets together. The fusion of butter and cheese gives Soongu’s nose a funny tingle, though he isn’t that hungry yet to ask for a bite.

Kageo looks quite amazed at his handiwork, watching as the ramen turns from platinum blonde to a shade of amber—coating in the Buldak sauce and cream powder. Unable to resist, the boy digs in. The flavors left an instant impression on his taste buds, and Kageo’s eyes widened almost comically.

“This is amazing!” 

Danbi beams at the heartfelt praise, even if it isn’t directed at her. “I’m glad! This brand is popular worldwide. Let me know if you need anything else!”

The conversation ends on a comfortable note, with Kageo giving her a quick thank you before heading out to join Jiwon and Simon on the tables outside, whose heads are probably buried in another meaningless argument. Danbi, all smiles and relaxed shoulders, turns back to arranging the drinks into the freezer. She doesn’t seem to mind the silence that follows, nor the fact that Soongu is still here, leaning against the wall a few steps away. She doesn’t even spare him a glance. 

And he isn’t paranoid, definitely not—anyone and anything he’s wary of always turns out to be a threat in the end. Soongu just can’t let loose; he doesn’t know how to. The cool tiles tickle the Apostle’s scalp, his ears buzzing with soft mechanical hums from the AC running above. It’s awfully bright in here, and the more he looks, the more spots and afterimages blind his vision.

Fuck, he needs some nicotine to think. 

And a beer. 

Nicotine and beer.

Soongu fishes into his pants pockets for a nonexistent cigarette, his chest rumbling with a quiet groan. Of course it isn’t there; he barely smoked this month. He sees Danbi in the corner of his eyes, hands on her lap while she sits on her haunches. She stares at him unblinkingly like he’s strange. Like he’s not a real person. And maybe that’s all he needs. Maybe Soongu doesn’t want to drag the painful interaction out longer than a few surface-level exchanges. 

Maybe he’s just that pent-up.

But Danbi smiles again with a glow of satisfaction. She gets up and makes her way towards him, spreading her palms out to reveal a pack of Zest like she’s treating Halloween’s candies to the neighbor’s kids. 

“Last one in stock.” The girl goes on like nothing happened; the same customer service smile with a small hint of sugary emptiness. “Enjoy.”

And Soongu doesn’t know how to feel. He’s very much skeptical, some part impressed, yet not at all touched by the deceitfully thoughtful gesture. There’s a stark difference in how Danbi hugs Jiwon back, shakes Simon’s hand, and guides Kageo through a simple routine versus the stench of death she has been subtly reeking from every small pore on her body.

“And,” the corner of Soongu’s lips curl up into a smirk. It takes two to tango, “how exactly would you know?”

Danbi lets out a small sigh, tilting her head slightly to the side with her arms crossed. A wistful look graces her face, and only there does he finally pick up the first glimpse of blood relation between her and his blind comrade. 

“That was all the guys in Glory ever bought when they crashed.” The way she sounds it out genuinely feels like a complaint. “Lo Crux isn’t out of the equation, but that’s for older men.” 

What a theory. Soongu’s fingers graze one edge of the pack. The sticker and thin wrapper are already peeled, though the whole thing inside remains untouched. 

“Why not?” He quips. “Can’t a young man enjoy his cigar?”

“Not really...”

Danbi giggles, leaning closer.

“Unless you’re Peter.”

Soongu froze, his spine growing cold just as the tiles behind him.

But she provides an easy out, clasping her hands together with a sheepish smile. “Welp, that’s just me though! Everybody has their own preference.”

She places the empty box on the ground aside, leaving him to comprehend her words. And that’s it. The girl crouches down and grabs a few cans of beer when she opens the freezer door with one hand, balancing the drinks in the other. Danbi looks at him with a cheerfulness that is hard-wired into her facial muscles, just the right amount of casual insanity to keep the Apostle guessing.

“Give these to her, ok?” She nags him in an easygoing voice, passing them after she dumps the cans into a 7-11 plastic bag. And Soongu takes it. It’s mainly for Jiwon, but they are all likely to share everything later. One look inside reveals more and more boozes, some brands he vaguely recalls to be his friend’s favorites two decades ago before she trades them for high-end goods.

Eating at a well-known local BBQ and hitting a karaoke booth until morning are their ultimate goal for tonight. He’s sure swinging by here has just been an added bonus for Jiwon to see her sibling and grab beers on the way. Soongu stops humoring Danbi’s mind games for a while, opting to let his gaze trail naturally along the see-through glasses that wall this place with the world outside.

 The moving smudges of brown, gray, and white in the distance are his friends. Comrades. And he appreciates them. He really does. There’s always more to their bond than that of people who share a mutual goal to take down Glory—there’s a common ground too. A dynamic he finds himself growing comfortable with. They knew who he really was, and Soongu thinks it’s nice: he doesn’t have to put up a mask like he does around Yuna and the Doggo brothers. Around them, he can just simply be him.

A dysfunctional family, but still a family nonetheless.

Danbi watches in his peripheral vision, a curious look etched on her face. When the Apostle pulls up to the counter to check out, she waves her hands dismissively with a smile; Jiwon slipped her something much more valuable under the table.

—

You click the door shut behind you, staring up at the ceiling.

They gang up, and you can mostly get behind that logic. 

Kageo is little more than emotionally driven at the moment, but there is plenty of room to grow once the pain mellows out. Simon, too. Goofy and unserious as he is, the man was Peter’s best student back in their days. Even if Jiwon is no match for Johan and his god-like echolocation, she’s still a formidable opponent on her own. Overall a team… a strong one. If they can make it work, they’re bound to be an eyesore for Glory in the long run. 

Then why the hell is he there?

That guy is undoubtedly Kim Soongu, the face you saw digging through the pile of documents one night after Nathaniel’s comment about a certain newbie piqued your interest—you weren’t impressed with what you found. Average stats, average height, no remarkable features. What potential was there to tap into?

Washing down the budding bit of annoyance with a huff, you lean against the hollow metal surface of the door.

“Danbi, is there really no cigarette left?~”

No answer.

“Oh.”

You let out a soft chuckle. 

A few footsteps forward, Danbi’s body rots away near the entrance leading to the store’s dumpster area. She was like that when you first found her—on her stomach with cheeks caked in a thin layer of mud and rainwater. She’s neither moving nor breathing—her skin grows cold and her muscles become stiff. Even then, Jiwon hadn’t been able to pick up the telltale signs of strangeness and death in your movement—letting her guard down around the ones she called family. 

“Huh,” you nudge her corpse with one foot, just enough to get her lifeless eyes to meet yours. “a seizure it is. That surgery sure fucked you up.”

Well, not that’s any of your business!

She’s dead, the security camera is down, 7-11 is empty, and you have a new bedtime story to tell Raphael tonight. Leaving through the door in the back, you bid Danbi farewell with a smile.

Her body is found in the morning.

[noiriarti]

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 2

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! TW for mentions of choking and degradation

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 2: An Inescapable Fact

Anakin Skywalker was in love with his best friend. It was an inescapable fact, the same way that the sky was blue, and the Earth was round. Another fact was that he had made out with and practically came on his best friend. He didn't really know what he had been thinking, or if he even had been thinking, but, after he left, all he knew was that he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Maybe he liked it a little too much. When he walked down the front steps of your house with his mom, picked up his bike from your lawn, and dashed up to his room to "finish packing," he not-so-subtly palmed himself, his hand lingering on the front of his jeans, where you were grinding against him minutes (minutes!!!) ago. It took him all of thirty seconds to take care of it, imagining you were still on top of him. As he lay there, panting, his hand covered in cum, he wondered if you were doing the same thing. (You were, of course, but he didn't know that.) He pulled out his phone with his clean hand and typed out a message. Hey. His phone dinged less than a second later. Hey, you had sent back. Now he was left wondering what the fuck a person is supposed to say to their best friend who they're in love with and just "for practice" made out with? 

That was great. No, too eager.

That was hot. No, weirdly horny.

How are you? No, too nonchalant.

I've been in love with you since seventh grade and I can't imagine life without you so please don't stop being my friend and if you want to be more I'd really enjoy that but no worries if you want to stay just friends. Jesus Christ.

We should do that again. Passable. Send. 

And so he waited for you to respond. And waited. And then stood up and cleaned himself up. And packed a bit. Eventually, later in the night, his phone pinged and he dove across the room to check it, but it was a notification from Instagram that one of his teammates had sent him a post. Anakin tossed his phone back on his bed with a little bit more force than necessary, then threw more of his shirts into the open suitcase on the floor. Another hour passed, and there was still radio silence from you. He opened his texts and stared at your exchange for a bit. It was still unread.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line and it obviously is making you uncomfortable. I enjoyed what we did, and I'd like it to continue, if you want. If not, that's chill. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, and how you're feeling, and if you still want me in your life. Please-- he drafted, stopping suddenly when he saw the Read notification pop up. He deleted the entire thing with shaking hands. What were you going to say?

Those three dots in the bubble were literal torture, he decided. Being stretched on the rack was probably easier than this horrible purgatory of not knowing whether the one person in his life who he couldn't exist without wanted to end their friendship.

Agreed, your text read. He immediately typed out a Are you okay?, which you answered with Yeah, you?. He assured you that he was, and you told him you were going to sleep for the night. Anakin finally put his phone down and asked himself what was wrong with him.

He hadn't felt this way around a girl, well, ever. In sophomore year, Padmé approached him and asked him out. He was so thrilled someone showed interest in him that he didn't think too carefully about it, but he caught feelings for her quickly. She was smart, kind, pretty. All the things a girlfriend ought to be. She made signs for his games, and kissed him with a desire he longed for. Everyone knew that she loved him, especially him. That's what made it gut-wrenching, because there was always something he was looking for that he could never find with her. Something he was missing. Little things killed them, like when she bought him cranberries and didn't know that he hated them, or when he realized her parents would never approve of him, no matter how hard he tried. He was always the captain of the soccer team who lived in the not-so-nice part of the town, where there were more cows than people, and she was always the genius debater from a house that had six bathrooms.

The first time he had sex with her, it was all hands and kisses and whispered praise. The second time, when he was less stunned by the newness of everything, he started feeling it. That wrongness. And it just didn't stop. When he said her name, the word felt foreign on his lips, like he wasn't meant to say it. Once, he brought up doing something more intense, like pulling her hair or smacking her ass, and she said she probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd try it anyway. She, in fact, did not enjoy it, and Anakin drove away from her house later that night in his beat-up Toyota feeling like a monster. Everything was just a little off between them. All his fantasies, all his conceptions of how a girlfriend and sex should be were based on how he imagined you would act. He'd know about your sweet tooth and give you the frosting off his cupcake, and you'd give him the pickles off your burger. With Padmé, nothing fit just right, it was a little off. In another world, he thought that he could have choked it down, married her. Had a happy life in a suburb somewhere. She would have loved it.

He found himself responding to her texts slowly, and kept trying to bring himself back to their dates when he zoned out. It didn't work, and, after a teary, bittersweet goodbye eight months after they dated, he was single again. When Padmé got into Harvard in her senior year, his junior year, he congratulated her, and she hugged him, and he knew that they were okay. Maybe he didn't ever really get to know all of Padmé's nooks and crannies because he didn't feel the urge to. With you, it was practically pathological. He hungered for every photo of you, every glance that you threw him. 

Now that he had kissed you, finally giving in to his stupid desires, he knew, with certainty, that this was love. Not a childish crush, not a teenage boy's lust, but love. (And also lust, but that was secondary.) As he fell asleep that night, he decided to tell you that just thinking of you was setting his heart racing now, that he wanted nothing more than to be yours. He'd just do it when he visited you.

When he loaded his whole life (three suitcases, it turned out) into the back of the massive van your parents had rented, he realized you hadn't seen you this morning yet. Your parents were setting up the front, arguing over which highway to take. Why did it matter? There were four hours until the flight. Your parents had pulled out two of your five suitcases, which Anakin dutifully loaded into the back next to his own luggage. You must have packed a whole rack of weights inside them, leaving Anakin sweating after stuffing the trunk.  The pom poms you had made for both of your suitcases (an early going away present, you had said, which made his heart constrict and ache) were laid down like ducks in a row. As your mother emerged with the remaining three suitcases, probably even heavier than the first two, he thanked his lucky stars Coach made them do so much conditioning. That, and the away games gave him practice at waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, a skill that came in useful today.

You weren't a morning person, which he knew, so your absence wasn't a shock, but you coming out of the house looking perfectly awake was. Anakin watched you cast one last look at your house, memorizing its grooves like you didn't already know them by heart, before you turned your gaze to him. Your eyes met, and he instantly looked away. Fuck, you looked pretty this morning. You walked up to him, and he noticed the faintest trace of makeup around your eyes.

"You look nice," he blurted out once you walked up to him. He cursed himself. When had he become so awkward around you?

"Thanks," you said as you smiled back at him. Like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't kissed your neck eight short hours ago. So it probably meant less to you than it did to him. The cool early morning air soothed the sting of that idea. You climbed into the backseat, wedging yourself in between the various backpacks and Anakin's seat. When he buckled himself in, your thighs were pressed together, just like last night. Anakin's hand itched to bring your legs over his, to grab your knee and kiss you again. But he wasn't going to.

The car ride was calming, only an hour to the airport, and you were the only car on the road. In the dark, early morning, you had fallen asleep almost instantly. Your parents had lapsed into silence, and he was supposed to be only torn up about leaving his mom, but he kept getting distracted by the way your head lolled around the headrest. Eventually, your head fell into the space between you, resting at an angle Anakin thought would need a chiropractor to fix. So, he did what any best friend would. He gently guided your head to his shoulder. It must have been more comfortable for you that way, anyway. He couldn't sleep, hyperaware of your every movement like he had never been before. Heart fluttering and hands antsy, Anakin managed to survive the drive. Once you got to the airport, and your parents called your name, you jolted up, and he missed you immediately. If he thought separating before would be hard, he had fucked up last night and made it a thousand times worse. Not that he regretted it, really.

The five of you made it through check-in (another lifting of the bags, which broke him into a sweat he hoped looked rugged and not gross) and security (where every single one of his bags was pulled aside because he was carrying some of his projects, which, okay, did have a lot of wires and chips in them, but he was an engineer, dammit, not a bomber). By the time you had dragged yourselves to the gate, the sun had risen. Your flight was first, straight to LaGuardia, then Anakin and Shmi would get on the plane to Ithaca just an hour later. You still had two hours until the flight, which the two of you spent in McDonalds getting one last Icee (cherry for Anakin, blue raspberry for you), drinking it until Anakin's stomach hurt from the sugar. It was like the previous night never happened, and neither of you mentioned it, dodging the topic and filling every silent moment with some comment about a tourist dropping all their bags or some mom with a child on a leash. When the first boarding call came from your gate, only ten seconds' walk away from your current perch next to some chargers on a wall, he knew your parents would want you back soon. He only had a minute, and you sensed it too. The sun was rising, casting its sleepy shine through the windows of the terminal and lighting up a halo of frizz around your head. You were beautiful, he thought. He pulled you into a crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my best friend. Promise you won't forget me?" You whispered to him while still in his bear hug. The tiny voice you used, the fear that question hid were too much for him. He pulled you in tighter, until he could barely breathe. 

"I could never. I'll be your best friend forever," he affirmed. Because that's what you were, above all else. Friends. Anakin had to preserve that, and he wavered on the decision to tell you about his feelings. Your friendship came first. When he walked you back to your gate, the last he saw of you was when you turned back to look at him right before walking through the gangway to your plane. It reminded him of the way you looked at your house before you left, a gesture of love and loyalty. Then you were gone, and he missed you instantly.

Another hour in the airport was dreadfully boring without you, it turned out, and the five hour plane ride was even worse. By the time they landed, Anakin was practically ready to jump out of the emergency exit, just for the entertainment of it. Everything he did was tinged with the slightest bit of disinterest. The book he packed, The Art of Electronics, proved to be dreadfully dull, and his phone was similar. There was only one person he wanted to hear from.

When they landed in Ithaca's airport, Anakin and Shmi loaded into a taxi and drove off to his dorm, which was comfortingly close. Just a hop away, then he could be home. The room itself, when entered, smelled damp and stale but at least looked clean. He and Ben, his slightly older roommate who played professionally in leagues in the UK before coming to college, got on like fire and tall grass, and Shmi practically had to keep reminding them that they, indeed, needed to unpack. 

Around five, he shot you a text.

Anakin: How's your room?

You: Nice, big! Here's a pic

You sent a picture

You: I finally met Ahsoka IRL, and she's just as nice as I thought she'd be!

You: I really like hanging out with her and her girlfriend Barriss

You: What about you?

Anakin: It's good, me and Ben, who's also on the soccer team

Anakin: lmfao that looks tiny

Anakin: We have a common room

Anakin: Feast your eyes

Anakin sent a picture

You: Jesus how have you managed to make it gross already

Anakin: It's not gross

Anakin: The Nicki Minaj American flag is camp

Anakin: And we only need two chairs for the TV

You: Two folding chairs in the middle of the room and nothing else on the walls is unhinged

Anakin: Unfriended

He smiled and set his phone down. Things were back to normal. Now, all he had to do to finish move-in was get thoroughly drunk with his new teammates.

You kept in contact with one another, sending cute squirrels (Anakin) and rats (you) that crossed your paths, or updating each other on your classes. Two weeks in the semester, Anakin finally felt brave enough to ask you. He was sitting on his newly-acquired couch, which you had bullied him into buying off of Facebook Marketplace. It was dingy, and had several stains that made him wonder if it was a crime scene, but it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

Anakin: Hey, can I come over this weekend?

You: Please. I'm going crazy here without you.

Anakin: Can I crash on your floor then?

You: I mean, if you're coming, we could practice a bit more, so you wouldn't have to use the floor

Anakin: That sounds amazing. What do you want to do?

You: I don't know. What do you want to do?

Anakin: I asked first

You: lol idk. It's just weird to talk about this with you

You: Not that I don't enjoy it, or want it. Just still feels weird.

Anakin: I get that, for me too.

You: I don't know if I'm ready to be idk, naked? I guess?

You: But I want to do more

You: I think I want to try giving head

Anakin: You don't have to do anything you don't want to

Anakin: I'd enjoy that a lot

You: g2g to class ttyl

Ben wasn't home, thank God, or else he could have walked in on Anakin stroking himself in the living room like a pervert. The image of your lips around him was too much to resist, even for the second it took him to get up and walk to his room. While fucking his fist, the fantasy escalated. Him fucking your throat harshly, feeling you gag on it. Him using your hair to drag your mouth up and down his cock while your hands were tied behind you. Once he came, he started feeling guilty about imagining you in such a rough situation. Anakin had no idea if you even wanted that, and he vowed to let you take the lead as much as possible. He also felt guilty about leaving another teeny tiny stain on the already suspicious couch when some cum dribbled down his hand, but it kind of blended in.

On Tuesday, he left his electrical engineering course when he got a text that stopped him in the middle of the hall.

You: Hey

You: So I am going to a sex store for the first time today

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: Wow ok exploring nyc

You: Should I get anything for this weekend?

Anakin: Idk, up to you

Anakin: Just choose whatever you want to try

You: ok i will pull up with a massive horse dildo for u then king

You: But seriously, I want to make it enjoyable for you too.

You: Do you have any requests for like outfits or something?

Anakin: fuck all the way off

Anakin: What? Like, shirts?

You: No

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Whatever makes you feel good

You: But cmon you've got to have a pereference

You: *preference

Anakin: pereference

Anakin: I don't have a pereference

Anakin: You could say I don't perefer anything

You: Fuck off

You: Answer the question motherfucker

Anakin: Idk maybe black lace? Whatever makes you happy

Anakin: I've always wanted to rip fishnets, if that's something you want

You: Sounds like a plan

He liked the message and slipped his phone in his pocket as he bounced over to the student lab, ready to finish the Arduino gadget he was making for class. You in a lacy set sounded like a dream come true, mainly because he was almost certain he had that exact wet dream last year.

The four ensuing days allowed Anakin to think, for once, which was never a good idea. It grew new doubts to stress over. Had he accidentally pushed the idea of fishnets on you? What if you weren't into the stuff he was into, or if you decided you weren't into him enough to be able to do anything further with him, now that the horny initial haze had dwindled? He was considering this again while on the train, watching the upstate countryside roll by. Sometimes it was close enough to Minnesota that he felt like he was home, so he shot his mom a text saying he missed her, and that he'd call her tomorrow. He also had two unread texts from you.

You: Hey!! When you arrive just text me and I'll grab you

You: I'm excited to see you

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: I'm excited to see you too

Anakin: Lots of stories to share

Before he could think better of it, he typed out something he hoped would dull the constant questioning in his mind.

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Also

Anakin: I feel kinda bad for bringing up something only I'm interested in the last time we talked about me coming over

Anakin: This should be about you

You: Takes two to tango, as they say

Anakin: Never say that again

You: I will say it again

Anakin: Shut up I'm trying to be serious

You: I'm saying that I'm interested in that sort of stuff

You: When I was at the store there were a bunch of things I wanted to try

You: Like wax and ropes

Anakin: Kinky

And, now, the question he had been nervous to ask, or even to think about. 

Anakin: Do you want to try them on me, or for me to try them on you?

You: Definitely you doing that to me

You: I've been doing research

You: There's a lot of stuff I want to try, if you want to practice with me

Anakin: Fuck that sounds fun

Anakin: Like what?

Was he letting his cards show too much? Maybe. It just felt too good not to ask.

You: Degradation, overstim, just idk. Rough in general

You: Down the road maybe rope

Anakin: Damn ok 50 shades of grey

Anakin: You have been doing your research

Anakin: That all sounds good to me, as long as it's good for you

Anakin: I can't wait to get there

The rush of excitement he felt at the idea of tying you up and fucking you until you screamed drowned out the notes he was meant to be reviewing in front of him, and the circuit diagram he was supposed to draw. 

He thought of you splayed out in front of him, covering those slutty lace panties in your juice until it soaked through the other side. He thought about his hand on your neck as you begged him to cum. And--fuck--you gagging on your knees as he thrust into your throat. He was hard--again.

But he had to remember what he was coming here to do, really. To tell you how he felt. He pulled out the piece of paper he had spent the past two weeks writing and rewriting in his mind as he did dribbling drills and soldered wires. There were four drafts in his desk, written out and crumpled into the back of the drawers, because he knew that one look at you in your room, giving him those desperate eyes, would wipe him blank of anything except how much he wanted you. After how platonic you were at the airport, he wasn't sure if he should say anything, because the distance over the next four years would make it so hard to be together, and you hadn't ever talked about long distance. Now, he looked at the paper and didn't know what to think. Did he really want to say words as big as "I love you" so quickly, so soon? The doubt plagued him as he looked over the final version of the letter, which was suddenly sappy and childish.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me *me*. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved--

He looked away. Why was he using the word love? He didn't know if you two would even work romantically. What if you went on a date and it felt just like your regular dynamic? What if he was a bad boyfriend, like he was to Padmé, and you didn't want him anymore? Was he about to throw years of your trust away?

He wasn't sure whether to tell you, at all. Anakin just wanted to know if you felt the same way about him, or else he'd lose more than just his pride. He had to give it more time. And, until then, this was all practice anyway. (He was really, really good at lying to himself.) He folded the paper precisely, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case.

The train slowed with a screeching that rung his ears and arrived at Grand Central. From the moment he left the train, the station was packed with people. Everything was buzzing, from the voices shouting over each other to the side of his arm where someone smacked into him. The air was stale and warm from the bodies, which moved in completely unpredictable patterns through the vast space. If he was this overwhelmed, how were you faring in the city? He made his way to the subway station just a few blocks across midtown, then got on the 1, which was surprisingly clean based on everything he had heard about New York. Anakin half expected to be pickpocketed and to see rats on the trains, but the plastic yellow and red seats playfully shined at him, clean and inviting.

Before long, he found himself on Columbia's campus at sunset, walking through the buildings which all looked a little bit too similar to find your dorm. Carman Hall, there it was. Anakin texted you that he was outside and steadied his nerves. He would finally get to see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again, a part of his brain that he dutifully shoved into a dark corner said.

Three minutes passed--he was looking at his phone clock for every one of the--and then the entrance clicked open. There you were. You looked amazing, and city life clearly agreed with you. You were wearing a simple denim skirt and green shirt, but you looked incredible. You had added a few ear cuffs, glinting in the dwindling sunlight, which cast your skin in a warm glow.

"Hey," he said into your temple as he crushed you back, "You look--wow." He pulled away and grabbed your shoulders, examining if you were still the person he knew. You were, he determined when you beamed at him. Your hand was still the same as he remembered when you flashed an ID badge, featuring a photo he had taken against a wall in your house, at the bored-looking security guard, who just waved you two by.

Anakin had just started telling you about how one of the midfielders, Rex, kicked the ball directly in the coach's crotch, when the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and he followed you down a winding hallway full of nameplates, whiteboards, and decorations. One room had construction paper black cats and pumpkins all over the door, which made him stop and smile. You stopped in front of a door that had fake leaves stuck to it, making it look like a tree was dropping paper leaves onto the floor. You unlocked the door, which groaned as it opened to show exactly the room you had sent him photos of, but with significantly more clutter on your desk.

"Welcome! This is my humble abode!" On the other side of the room, the girl sitting on her bed, cast him a withering glance. She had wide, doe-like eyes that he was sure probably hid a lot of mischief. Her hair was styled in twists she had gathered into pigtails that tumbled over her shoulders, with a string of beads woven into the crown of her head.

"This must be Jake," the woman he presumed to be Ahsoka said, scrutinizing him with her piercing eyes. Jake? Who the fuck is Jake? Anakin wondered as he tried to read your reaction. You spluttered, obviously not ready to have that piece of information revealed yet.

"No, no, this is Anakin! From home!" You put on a strained smile in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"So, you're not dating?" Ahsoka quirked up one eyebrow, not buying for one second that whatever she was seeing in front of her was platonic.

"No, not at all. I could never date him, he's my best friend!" You said too loudly, forcing the words out. Perfect. Just perfect. That solidified his decision. If you were friendzoning him this hard, and you were obviously trying to practice for this Jake guy's sake, then there wasn't any point in what he was going to say. The paper in his pocket was so easy to crush under his fingers, he almost wished he had done it sooner. It was stupid, anyway. This wasn't anything more than two people exploring new things. His feelings would pass, eventually.

Ahsoka shrugged and hugged you goodbye after she slipped off the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. She left, presumably for Barriss's room, and closed the door behind her.

In the silence left in the room, the words were on the tip of his tongue. Who's Jake?, he would ask nonchalantly. Like it didn't matter. Anakin stopped himself. It wouldn't do him any good to know more. Instead, he kept recounting the story of Rex making the whole team run sprints for the day with his crazy aim, albeit with less enthusiasm. In return, you told him about the suck-up in your Intro to Psychology course, who gushed to the professor that he loved his work and was his biggest fan. It was literally a 101 class, what was he trying to prove?

Anakin's pack lay forgotten by the door as you two recounted your weeks to one another, and for a moment it didn't feel like a new city, it just felt like home. He didn't even realize that it was night until you pointed it out, mentioning that you missed the stars that you could see from your yard. And the fireflies. But the city lights twinkled nicely enough that he couldn't see  a difference. You lapsed into silence, watching students walk out onto the street as stores pulled down their shutter doors. The bed was to your left as you stood watching the window, and your eyes glanced to it. 

"So, um. Want to watch some Netflix?" You said in your best approximation of a sexy voice, turning to your right and looking up at him in a way that you hoped was seductive. Anakin looked at your face and burst out laughing.

"If you want to do stuff, just ask!" He raised the pitch of his voice, imitating yours as he bit his lip fake-sexily. "Netflix and chill?" You grabbed one of the copious pillows on your bed and hit him with it. He caught it immediately and lobbed it back at your head, but you ducked at the last possible moment, so it hit the bed with a thump.

"Missed!" You giggled. That sweet laughter would be the death of him. When you caught your breath, the sweet smile he had stole your breath. 

"Um, do you want to... practice?" You asked. In truth, you wanted him, badly. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, which he immediately noticed and took as his cue to use the last of his willpower to make sure you were okay with this before kissing you silly, and hopefully doing more. Much more. He stepped closer to you, drawing you in with his arms around your waist.

"Just so that I'm perfectly clear. You don't have to do anything that makes you feel the slightest bit weird. We don't have to do anything now, at all. Or ever, if that's what you want," he said huskily.

"No, I do want this," you whispered, nodding and leaning in so that you were nearly touching noses, "I want you down my throat." Fuck. There went his self-control. He crushed his lips into yours, the softness of the previous time eclipsed by the need in both of you that had been building in between texts for the weeks you had been apart.

No. You had to talk this through. He had to know that you understood what you were getting into. Anakin pulled away, even though it killed him.

"We should talk more. No touching until we're done talking," he said, holding his hands up to prove that he was serious.

"Fine. But you're going to break first. I'd bet anything." You also held your hands up, defiant as ever. He was seized with the urge to make you obey him, and quieted it down as much as he could.

"Fine. I'll take that deal. Just, let's talk first. You said that you wanted to try rougher stuff, and I don't want to do that before I'm certain I don't cross a boundary," he said. He thought of himself last year, the guilt over Padmé.

"What boundaries could you possibly cross? I'm asking you to be rough." Anakin was still worried.

"Yes, but it's your first time giving head. I don't want to make it uncomfortable. Or, if I cross a line and can't tell... I just want to keep you safe. How about you tap me twice for good to go, three times for slow down, and four times for stop?" You nodded, giving him those same big eyes that made him want to absolutely ravish you. The time between you stretched, turning pliant and gooey as he searched your eyes for uncertainty. "Show me," he purred. He had poured some of the commanding tone into it that he wanted so desperately to use. You obediently tapped out the sequence on his arm, and he tossed you a smirk. 

"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said, enjoying the way you were about to fight him on it, "And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." And you did.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: Oh we are getting raunchy in the next chapter buddies!!!

Tag List (message me or reply if you'd like to be added!): @akixxrafiiy

[goblinontour]

Your Thoughts Pairin’ Up With Mine

you’re so pretty and i’m so shy

warnings: fetus!al, fluff, it’s just cute, weed, matthew.

word count: 5.9k

Alex was cute. Really cute. But you’d never admit that. Not to him, not to anyone — not even to yourself half the time. It was easier this way, keeping whatever you were feeling locked up, because at least you still got to see him like this. Be around him like this. If he…well, if he didn’t feel the same way, you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it. So it was better to leave things unsaid. 

What you didn’t know was that Alex was doing the exact same thing. Or maybe you did know, but you weren’t sure. You never could be sure with boys, and you definitely didn’t want to get your hopes up.

But when his friends teased him about you — like now — it was impossible not to feel that spark, the one you worked so hard to keep buried. The butterflies came up to your throat, and you had to fight them down.

“Ohhh, leaving together, I see, I see you, Turner!” Matthew yelled from behind as he too got out the school gates, his voice loud. Too loud. You cringed inwardly but kept walking, knowing he’d catch up in a second. And he did. 

He slung an arm around your shoulders, another around Alex’s, squeezing you both into an awkward three-person hug as he wedged himself in between. “Shut up, Matt.” Alex muttered, his face pinched into a frown. His brows furrowed in a way that made you bite back a smile, his frustration somehow making him even cuter.

You didn’t say anything. You often didn’t when it came to this stuff — afraid that if you opened your mouth, something embarrassing might slip out. So instead, you just gave a soft laugh, hoping no one could hear the nervous edge to it. You had to wonder if Alex was just as frustrated as you were by the now Matthew-shaped barrier between the two of you.

“Where are you going, then?” Matthew asked, eyes darting between the two of you like he already knew the answer.

“‘Round mine for a bit.” Alex answered, shrugging lightly, like this was something you did all the time. It wasn’t, but he acted so casual about it, and that made it easier for you to play along.

“Is that right? Leaving me behind, eh?” Matthew waggled his eyebrows, grinning like a fool before he finally unhooked his arms and took a step back. “I’ll leave you to it then. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You felt your face warm at the implication, but Alex just rolled his eyes, muttering, “You’re an idiot.” as he shook his head.

Before Matthew left, though, he leaned in, whispering something into Alex’s ear. Whatever it was, it made Alex’s face tighten with annoyance, his lips pressing into a thin line. You couldn’t catch what was said, but it was enough to make Matthew laugh — a big, loud sound that seemed to echo around the nearly but not quite empty street. He ruffled Alex’s hair, and Alex barely had a second to swat his hand away before Matthew planted the biggest, sloppiest kiss on his cheek.

It was obnoxious. Completely unnecessary. But as much as you tried to keep your face neutral, you couldn’t help the small smile that slipped through. Matthew was irritating, but they were cute. Alex was cute. You would’ve liked to be the one kissing him, though, in a much different way than Matthew just had.

“See you two later.” Matthew said with a wink before jogging off down the street, leaving you and Alex standing awkwardly in his wake.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, the space between you feeling too wide all of a sudden without the loud presence between you.

You kicked at a loose stone on the pavement. “Your friends are weird.” you said, hoping to break the tension.

Alex snorted. “Tell me about it.” He wiped his cheek where Matthew had kissed him, still scowling but with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll get him back for that.”

“I don’t doubt it.” you said, glancing over at him. He met your eyes for a second longer than usual, and your stomach did that stupid flip again.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but he just cleared his throat and shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “So, uh…you wanna go, then?” 

You nodded quickly, too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you started walking in step, the awkward tension still hanging between you. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an electricity to it, like both of you were waiting for the other to say something important, but neither of you dared.

“So, what did Matthew say to you back there?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Alex tensed slightly beside you, then gave a small shrug. “Nothing, really.”

It wasn’t convincing, but you didn’t push. If he didn’t want to tell you, you weren’t going to make him. Besides, your heart was already racing just being this close to him, your shoulder brushing against his every now and then. That was enough. For now.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if either of you ever did say something. If he liked you back, would it change anything? Or would it ruin everything?

You glanced at him again, taking in the way his fringe kept falling into his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way he looked like he was deep in thought. Maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

But just like every other time, you pushed the thought away, focusing on the present—on getting to spend time with him, even if nothing ever came of it. Because being close to him like this, even without the words, was enough.

His room was the way you’d expect it to be: a little messy but in a charming, lived-in way. You would probably find anything he did charming. Band posters were tacked to the walls, a few records stacked near his stereo, and clothes scattered around like he hadn’t decided what to wear that morning and then gave up entirely. It was the kind of space where you felt instantly comfortable, but now that you were here, lying next to him on his bed, comfort was the last thing on your mind.

The bed dipped slightly under your weight as you shifted, pulling your knees up to your chest. You weren’t exactly sure where to put your hands, so they settled awkwardly in your lap, fingers fiddling with a loose thread on your jeans. Alex was lying right next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, and every time you breathed in, it felt like the air was too thick. 

It was quiet between you, the kind of quiet that hummed with unspoken tension. You could feel his presence next to you, every tiny movement, every breath. You told yourself to act normal, to just be cool about it, but it was hard to think clearly when all you could focus on was the fact that Alex Turner was lying in a bed next to you. 

“Uh…” Alex said suddenly, breaking the silence, his voice soft but cutting through the quiet like it carried more weight than it should. “D’you wanna smoke?”

Your brain lagged behind his question for a second, unsure if you’d heard him right. You blinked, turning to look at him. “Smoke?”

He nodded, looking more nervous than you expected. “Yeah. I mean, I, uh…I’ve got some.” He was fumbling for words, like he hadn’t quite planned out how this conversation would go. “If you want. No pressure or anything.”

“Where’d you get it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. This was new — Alex, offering to smoke?

He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, from Jamie. He had some on him last week, and I dunno…I just thought I’d give it a try, y’know?”

You hesitated, glancing down at your hands. You didn’t know if you were the kind of person who smoked, but then again, you didn’t know if Alex was either. The thought of it, of doing something so out of the ordinary with him, made your heart race for a different reason now. 

“You’ve done it before?” you asked, more curious than anything.

Alex shook his head quickly, his face turning slightly red. “Nah. Not really. I mean, I haven’t-” He stopped, then let out a breath. “I’ve never smoked either, actually. I just…I dunno. Thought it might be fun to try. But only if you want.”

There was something almost endearing about how flustered he was. He wasn’t his usual cool, laid-back self. Instead, he was fidgety, his fingers drumming lightly against the bedspread. It reminded you that, for all his confidence, Alex wasn’t always as sure of himself as he let on. 

You swallowed, feeling the tension shift between you. “Okay.” you said quietly, surprising even yourself with how casual you sounded. “Let’s do it.”

He blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to agree so easily. “Yeah? You sure?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yeah, why not?”

Alex smiled, and it was that shy one. “Alright, cool.” He pushed himself up off the bed, crossing the room to rummage through his drawer. His movements were a little too quick, like he was trying to keep himself busy so he didn’t have to think about what he was actually doing.

But after a few seconds of shuffling through the clutter, it was clear he wasn’t having much luck. His brow furrowed, frustration creeping in as he yanked the drawer open wider, hoping it might magically appear. When nothing turned up, he muttered something under his breath and moved toward his dresser instead.

You sat up slightly, watching as he stood in front of it, his eyes scanning the top shelf. It was just high enough that he needed to stretch, standing on his toes to reach it. His arms extended, fingers brushing against the edge of the shelf, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt rode up as he reached – just enough for a glimpse of the pale skin of his waist.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him like this before. Alex was never the type to worry about things like that. But in this moment, with the tension of everything that had happened, the tiny sliver of exposed skin felt like something you shouldn’t look at…and something you couldn’t stop looking at.

Your eyes flicked down to his waist, catching the way the waistband of his jeans sat low on his hips, and you felt a surge of warmth flood your chest. You didn’t want to stare — God, the last thing you needed was for him to notice — but there was something about how effortless it was. The way he didn’t even realise the effect he had on you. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to look away before he could turn around, but your gaze kept drifting back.

He grunted softly, still trying to feel for whatever it was he thought was hidden up there, and his shirt rode up even further. You held your breath, trying to focus on anything else — the ceiling, the walls, the posters on his door — but your eyes kept finding their way back to that patch of skin.

You could hear him muttering to himself as he fumbled around, his voice tinged with the slightest hint of panic. “I swear it was here…somewhere…” He sounded a little desperate now. 

Then, with a sharp exhale of relief, Alex’s fingers brushed against something tucked behind a pile of old CDs. “Ah, found it.” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He grabbed hold of the small, crumpled packet and pulled it out from the back of the shelf. The effort had him nearly off-balance for a moment as he pushed up onto his toes one last time, stretching to reach it.

He stepped back onto flat ground and looked at the pack in his hands like it was a strange, foreign object he wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with. “Well, that was a bit more of a hunt than I expected.” he said, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile. His cheeks were still a little flushed from the effort, and he quickly tugged his shirt back down, like he suddenly realised how much of himself he’d been exposing.

You laughed softly, more out of nervousness than anything, watching as he got back on his feet properly and ran a hand through his hair. “Glad you found it, then.” you teased lightly, hoping it would help ease the slight awkwardness. 

Alex chuckled softly. “Yeah, me too.” he muttered, making his way back to the bed. He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping. His leg brushed lightly against yours, close enough to feel the warmth through your jeans, and you couldn’t help but tense up slightly at the contact. He noticed, of course — he always seemed to notice — and he looked at you, eyes soft and searching again. He was nervous too, that much was obvious, but in that small moment, the silence between you felt less awkward and more like…anticipation.

Alex cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. “You, uh…you still up for this?” 

You nodded. He opened the packet, pulling out a single joint. It looked almost out of place in his hands. “Jamie said it wasn’t, like, strong or anything.” he mumbled, still not quite meeting your eyes. “Just…normal, I guess.”

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to say much. The reality of the situation was starting to hit you — here you were, sitting on his bed, about to smoke together, and neither of you had a clue what you were doing.

He fumbled with the lighter, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed it to you. “You wanna light it?” he asked, his voice a little quieter now, like he was suddenly aware of how close the two of you were.

“Sure.” you whispered, taking the lighter from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

You weren’t really sure what you were doing, but you tried to act like you did, flicking the lighter on and bringing it to the end of the joint. The flame caught, and for a moment, you just stared at it, unsure what to do next. 

Alex’s hand hovered near yours, almost like he wanted to guide you, but he hesitated, looking just as unsure as you felt. “Here.” he said softly, taking the joint from you and raising it to his lips. He took a tentative drag, then immediately coughed, doubling over slightly as he waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear the smoke.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “You okay?” you asked, grinning.

He shot you a sheepish look, still coughing a bit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just…stronger than I thought, I guess.”

You were still smiling, but something in your chest tightened at how utterly human he was — no pretence, no act. Just Alex. 

He handed the joint back to you, his fingers brushing yours again, and you took it, feeling the warmth of his touch linger longer than it should have. “Your turn.” he said, his voice low, almost teasing now.

You raised it to your lips, taking a small drag just like you’d seen him do. The smoke filled your lungs, harsher than you’d expected, but you fought back the urge to cough, forcing yourself to exhale slowly.

Alex was watching you, his eyes wide and a little amazed, and for a moment. It felt a little surreal, like time had slowed down just enough for you to feel the shift in the room. He seemed closer than before, and it was impossible not to be hyper-aware of every little thing about him — the soft sound of his breathing, the way his knee barely brushed against yours, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the lingering smoke in the air.

You passed the joint back to him, and he took it carefully, like he was still trying to figure out what to do with it. He took another drag, this one more controlled, and exhaled with a little less coughing this time. He looked over at you with a shy grin, like he was proud of himself for getting it right.

“So…” he started, leaning back a little, his head resting against the wall behind the bed. “You ever think about how, like…in music, the bass is what really ties everything together? Like, no one really notices it, but if you took it out, everything would just…fall apart.”

You blinked. The sudden switch to music theory caught you off guard. “Uh…yeah.” you said, nodding automatically. “Totally.”

He took another drag, looking thoughtful now, like he was unlocking some deep mystery of the universe. “I mean, think about it. People always talk about the guitar or the vocals, right? But no one gives the bass enough credit. It’s always there, just…holding everything down. Like the glue, y’know? It’s kind of poetic, in a way.”

You nodded again, not entirely sure where he was going with this, but still following along. “Yeah, definitely poetic.” you echoed. 

Alex kept talking, his voice picking up speed as he got more animated. “And, like…what if the bass player feels like that too, you know? Like they’re just there, in the background, doing all this important work but no one ever notices. But without them, everything would fall apart. That’s kinda how life feels sometimes, doesn’t it? Like, you do all this stuff, but it’s not the stuff people notice. They just notice when it goes wrong.”

You nodded again, a little slower this time. You weren’t sure if the smoke was making everything feel more intense or if it was just Alex’s passion for bass players, but you were struggling to keep up. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

He took another drag, the joint burning down a little more, and his hand brushed against yours when he handed it back. You noticed his fingers lingering a little longer this time, like he was testing the waters.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.” he continued, eyes distant now as he stared up at the ceiling. “Like, who’s the bass player in my life, y’know? Who’s holding everything down when I don’t even realise it? Maybe it’s my mum, or maybe it’s Jamie, or maybe it’s-”

He stopped mid-sentence, glancing at you. “What d’you think?”

You blinked again, caught off guard. “About…bass players?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his voice soft but teasing. “No, about life. About who holds everything down.”

You didn’t have an answer ready, and for a second, you just stared at him, trying to come up with something coherent to say. But before you could, he tilted his head, studying you with a curious look.

“You’ve been nodding at everything I say, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice playful but with a slight edge of realisation. 

Your heart skipped. “No, I- what do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” he said, a grin tugging at his lips now. “I could’ve said the dumbest thing just now, and you’d have nodded and agreed.”

You laughed nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah?” His smile widened as he sat up a little straighter. “Alright, let’s test that theory. What if I said…” He paused for dramatic effect, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping. “What if I said…I think I’d be a great astronaut. Like, I could just leave Earth behind tomorrow and float around in space, no problem. Would you agree with that?”

You tried to hold back your smile, but it was impossible. “You’d be a terrible astronaut.” you said, shaking your head.

He gasped, placing a hand on his chest in mock offence. “Terrible? I’d be brilliant! Have you seen me in zero gravity?”

“Alex, you get motion sick on the swings at the park. There’s no way you’d survive space.”

He laughed, a full, genuine laugh that made your chest tighten a little. “Okay, fine. Maybe space isn’t for me.” he conceded, still grinning. “But seriously, you’ve just been nodding along the whole time. Haven’t you?”

You sighed, finally giving in. “Maybe a little.”

“Why?” he asked, and there was something softer in his voice now, a little more curious. “You don’t have to agree with everything I say, you know.”

You shrugged, feeling a little exposed under his gaze. “I don’t know. I guess…I just like listening to you talk. Even if I don’t know what to say back.”

That caught him off guard. “Yeah?”

You nodded, more genuinely this time. “Yeah. I like…hearing what you’re thinking about. Even if it’s bass players or space.”

“I like talking to you.” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I’m rambling.”

You felt your heart skip again, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “Why?”

He smiled, a little shy this time, like he wasn’t used to being this honest. “I dunno.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the way he was looking at you now, like he was trying to say something more without actually saying it.

You swallowed, your voice barely steady. “I don’t mind the nonsense.”

At some point, without either of you deciding it, you laid down on the bed. It was as if the weight of the conversation, the closeness, the atmosphere, all pulled you both into it. You shifted until your head was resting on his pillow, your back sinking into the mattress, and the reality of it hit you – Alex’s pillow smelled like him. Everywhere you turned, it was his scent, that familiar mix of soap, his laundry detergent, and something else that was just him. There was no escaping it, no escaping him. No matter where you turned, he was there. 

He didn’t stay sitting for long, either. After a brief hesitation, like he was figuring out how to move without making it awkward, Alex followed, lying down next to you, closer than before. His body seemed to move on instinct, and before you knew it, his head was on your chest. You froze for a second, unsure if this was actually happening. 

You told yourself to calm down, to breathe slower, but the harder you tried, the louder your heartbeat became. His hair brushed against your chin, and his weight, warm and solid, settled into you like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t say anything, just stared up at the ceiling with you, like it wasn’t a big deal at all that he was now lying with his head on your chest, while your heart felt like it was about to beat out of control. You couldn’t tell if he noticed or if he was pretending not to, but the silence between you now was so thick it felt like it was buzzing.

It felt like you were both waiting for something to happen, but neither of you wanted to be the first to break the moment. His arm was draped across your stomach, his fingers barely grazing your side, and you could feel every tiny movement he made. You wanted to say something, anything, to fill the space, but nothing felt right. 

You could feel the warmth of him through your shirt, his head resting just above your heart, and suddenly you were hyper-aware of everything. How close he was. How your hand was lying so close to his arm that you could feel the heat radiating off him. How your heart was hammering against your ribs, far too loud and fast. 

You wondered if he noticed it too, this feeling of inescapable closeness, or if it was just something you couldn’t get out of your head. It was too much. Too intimate. Too easy for him to realise how much he affected you. 

Your hand hovered awkwardly for a second, unsure of where to go, before you cautiously let it rest near his shoulder, your fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt. You didn’t know if it was okay to move, if this was a normal thing to do with your best friend. But somehow, it felt like the right thing to do.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. Your heart kept racing, and you bit the inside of your cheek, worried he might feel it through his cheek pressed against you. It felt like a countdown ticking in your chest, counting down to some moment you weren’t ready for. 

After what felt like an eternity, Alex broke the silence. His voice was quiet, a little unsure, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was about to say. “Do you ever think about…stuff?” he started, his words vague and hesitant.

You blinked, unsure where he was going with that. “Stuff?” you echoed, trying to sound casual despite the way your pulse was still racing.

He shifted slightly, his head tilting just a little on your chest, like he was thinking hard about what to say next. “Yeah, like…stuff. Like people. And…things changing. Or, like, not changing.”

You bit your lip, trying to decode his rambling. “I guess…yeah, sometimes. What kind of stuff, though?”

Alex hesitated, and you could feel him tensing slightly. He didn’t look at you, his eyes still focused on the ceiling. “Like… I dunno. Sometimes it’s just hard to figure out how things are supposed to go, y’know? Or what people are supposed to say to each other.”

Was he talking about you? Was this his way of trying to say something? “Yeah, I get that.” you said softly, not trusting yourself to say more than that.

He let out a soft breath, his hand now fiddling with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly. “Like…sometimes you wanna say something, but you don’t know if you should. Or how the other person’s gonna take it. And then you just…end up overthinking it.”

“Yeah…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper now. “I think everyone feels like that sometimes.”

Alex nodded slightly, still not meeting your gaze. “Yeah. I guess. It’s just…harder when it’s someone you really care about, y’know? Like…when you don’t wanna screw things up.”

Your heart was pounding so loud now you were sure he could hear it. His head was still resting on your chest, and every thud felt like it was echoing straight into him. You didn’t know what to say, terrified that whatever words came out of your mouth might break the delicate moment you were in.

Alex swallowed, his voice dropping lower. “It’s like…you don’t know how to tell someone that they’re-” He stopped abruptly, his hand tightening slightly in the fabric of his shirt. “That they mean something to you. And you don’t know if they feel the same. So you just…don’t say anything.”

You were holding your breath, trying to process his words without jumping to conclusions. He was so vague, so careful with his phrasing, but you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach twisted in response. 

Was this his way of admitting something? Or were you reading too much into it because you wanted him to be talking about you?

You felt like you were walking a tightrope between saying something and saying nothing, afraid of tipping too far either way. 

“I think…I think sometimes people just need to hear it.” you said quietly, your voice shaky but soft. “Even if it’s scary.”

“Maybe.” he mumbled. “It’s hard to know what’s right.” He shifted slightly, adjusting himself. You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling a little too quickly. You were so focused on trying to keep your heartbeat under control, you almost missed it when he spoke. “I’ve, uh…” He started, but then stopped, clearing his throat like he was trying to figure out where he wanted to go with the sentence. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

Your eyes flickered down to him, your hands now resting awkwardly at your sides. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he said quietly, his voice a little muffled against you. “It’s…it’s stupid, though.”

“It’s not.” you replied, even though you had no idea what he was about to say. You did, but you weren’t ready for it. “What is it?”

He sighed softly. “It’s just…I’ve been thinking about how much I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too.” you said, hoping your voice sounded steady.

“No, but I mean…like, really like it.” he said, his voice even quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.” he continued, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of your shirt. “Like, when we’re not together, I keep wondering what you’re doing, or if you’re thinking about me. And then when we are together, it just…it feels good, y’know? Better than it does with anyone else.”

Was this it? 

“I don’t know if that makes sense.” he said, laughing softly, though it was nervous, almost like he was unsure of himself. “It’s probably stupid. I mean, it’s not like- I’m not saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

You wanted to say something, to respond in a way that might encourage him to keep going, but you were too scared of saying the wrong thing, of ruining whatever fragile moment this was.

His cheek pressed a little more firmly into your chest. “I just…” he started again, his voice more hesitant than ever. “I just feel like there’s something here, y’know? Like…between us. But I don’t know if I’m just imagining it, or if…maybe you feel it too?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your entire body tensing as the weight of his words hit you. You didn’t know what to say. Of course, you felt it too – you’d felt it for a long time, but you’d buried it, convinced yourself it wasn’t real, that it was just in your head. And now here he was, lying against you, telling you that maybe he felt it too.

You could hear the nervousness in his voice, the way he was trying to say something without saying it directly, to see if you’d meet him halfway. You could feel the tension between you reaching its peak, like there was no turning back now, like you were standing on the edge of something, and all it would take was one small step to change everything.

“I don’t know.” he mumbled again, shifting slightly. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it. Maybe it’s nothing.”

You felt a sudden, sharp pang in your chest at the idea that he might backtrack, that he might take it all back before you had a chance to say something, to do something. But the words were stuck in your throat, tangled up.

Alex let out a breath, and you could feel his shoulders relax a little, like he was giving up on the idea of saying whatever it was he’d wanted to say. “Forget it.” he murmured, his voice barely audible now. “It’s probably just me being weird.”

You stared up at the ceiling, your heart still hammering in your chest, trying to find the courage to respond. Finally, you managed to say, quietly, “It’s not just you.”

He froze. You felt him still completely against you, like he was holding his breath, like he was waiting for you to continue.

“I feel it too.” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I just didn’t know if you did.”

There was a beat of silence, then he shifted again, lifting his head slightly to look at you, his eyes wide and searching, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“You do?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with disbelief.

You nodded, unable to look away from him now. “Yeah. I’ve been feeling it for a while.”

His face softened, the tension in his expression melting away as a small smile tugged at his lips. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You laughed softly, feeling the tension finally start to ease from your chest. “Because I didn’t want to be wrong.”

Slowly, carefully, he shifted from where he was resting against you, his body lifting slightly as he propped himself up on one elbow. His face was closer now, his breath warm and uneven as he hovered above you, his eyes searching yours as if asking permission without saying it out loud.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and you didn’t move, didn’t dare break the moment. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he was battling his own nerves, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he leaned in until his face was just inches from yours. 

You’d imagined this before, in fleeting moments you’d never admitted to anyone, but now that it was happening, it felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Would it be as perfect as you’d imagined? 

His nose brushed against yours as he closed the gap between you. His lips hovered above yours, so close you could feel the warmth of them without even touching. He hesitated for a second, his breath shaky, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time, as if making sure you were still okay with this.

And then, finally, he bent down and kissed you.

The kiss was soft, a little awkward – the way first kisses often are. His lips pressed gently against yours, almost unsure, like he was still afraid of doing it wrong. You could feel his uncertainty in the way his mouth moved, waiting to see if you’d pull away or if this was really happening.

But you didn’t pull away. You kissed him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Your heart was still racing, but it wasn’t from fear anymore. It was from the warmth of him, the way his lips felt against yours, the way his body seemed to relax the moment you kissed him back.

It was a little clumsy, the way you tilted your head slightly too late, your noses bumping awkwardly for a second. But instead of ending it, Alex let out a soft, nervous laugh against your mouth, and the sound made your heart swell. You couldn’t help but smile too, the tension breaking for a moment as you both realised how imperfectly perfect it was.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed, his eyes wide. “Sorry.” he mumbled, his voice low and a little breathless. “That was…I don’t know if I did that right.”

You laughed softly, feeling a strange kind of giddiness bubbling up inside you. “It was fine.” you reassured him.

He smiled, a little crooked and shy. “Yeah?” he asked, still hovering close, his eyes flicking down to your lips again, like he couldn’t quite believe he’d just kissed you.

“Yeah.” you whispered back, your heart still beating wildly in your chest.

Without another word, he leaned in again, this time with a little more confidence, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that felt much sweeter, for sure. 

a/n: based on this request. don’t have anything else to add.

[greensagephase]

Double Trouble (One -Shot) Part Two

Pairing: 2099 Miguel O'Hara X Female Reader X Variant Miguel O'Hara Summary: You thought it was a one-time thing, but you were wrong. Word Count: 3,194 Warnings: Minor plot (?) after the first part; oral (both f and m receiving); fingering; biting; lots of kissing; p in v; unprotected sex; handjob; blowjob; nipples played and sucked with (f); let me know if I'm missing something, not really used to writing smut tbh; 2099 Miguel goes as Miggy from now on while reader's OG Miguel is called Miguel; MINORS DNI, please!! A/N: This is a part two to Double Trouble (One Shot) as it was requested by @veyveys I hope you like this!! Thank you for requesting it!! :) Masterlist

You thought it was a one-time thing for many reasons. First, the three of you were drunk that night. Second, you blamed your eagerness on the fact that 2099 Miguel looks almost identical to your Miguel, so it made sense that you found him attractive and even desired him. 

Third, your Miguel would probably not agree with it once he was sober. Right? You know the two of you have plans to marry at one point, sooner rather than later even if there’s no rush. So, surely your Miguel was going to agree that it was fun but that was it. It’s not like he’s possessive of you but still, you thought he wouldn’t want it to happen again considering it was with one of his counterparts.

Fourth, there’s 2099 Miguel. You have learned so much about him over the last few months. You know about his past; about losing a child he basically adopted and about his duties as the leader of the Spider Society, something you’ve always asked him about as you find it fascinating. You have a good understanding of his personality, too, despite only knowing him for a few months. He’s more serious but sweet and caring nonetheless, and though he never showed it before that night, for some reason 2099 Miguel also struck you as a possessive man. A man that wouldn’t want to share a woman with another man. So, you guessed that 2099 Miguel would also move past it.

You carried on with your day that morning after both Miguel’s fucked you again, blaming that morning’s moment to leftover hormones from the night before, knowing that what happened was great - more than great, really - but that was it, as you believed that everyone would agree it was best to leave it in the past but oh, you were so wrong. While you slept peacefully between them that first night, passed out after so many rounds of getting fucked, the men talked and an agreement was struck. 

And that agreement is how you find yourself in your current position. You're on your back on a king size bed in a penthouse bought by Miggy, or 2099 Miguel. The three of you agreed that calling both Miguel's "Miguel" was getting confusing, so you suggested "Miggy" since you've never given your original Miguel a nickname, making it easier on everyone. And God, Miggy loved it as soon as it left your lips. He hates nicknames but when it came from your pretty mouth, he nodded instantly, especially because it was agreed that you’d be the only one to call him that. It was part of the agreement, the same one that has allowed you to be in the position you’re in now.  

You arch your back in pleasure and moan loudly while you lay on the bed, big enough to fit the three of you comfortably, with your legs over Miggy's shoulders as his large hands keep your thighs open so his hungry mouth can keep devouring your pussy. 

"Mig-Miggy!" you cry out in pleasure as you feel his tongue flatten against your clit, moving especially slow to tease you before he glides it back down your slit, licking up your arousal. You whimper in pleasure and reach with one hand for his hair, sliding your fingers into his already messy locks. You grip it, earning yourself a low growl from him. 

"So sensitive. So responsive," he murmurs against your flesh as he dips his tongue into you. "Like always," he adds looking up with a smirk as he catches sight of you arching your back, eyes closed and lips parted in pleasure. The sight alone makes his already hard cock throb with need. He can’t wait to be inside you, buried deeply as you take him like a good girl. “Mierda,” he groans just at the thought as he keeps eating out your wet pussy.

You move your free hand to the side, finding Miguel's hand and holding it. You open your eyes as Miggy continues to eat you out, finding Miguel stroking himself as he watches for a few minutes. You gasp and moan as you feel Miggy slip a finger inside you. 

"Fuck - yes," you breath out closing your eyes again as he begins to slide his large finger in and out of you. 

Your breast is cupped suddenly before you feel warmth and wetness on your nipple. Moaning, you open your eyes to find Miguel sucking on it gently, letting his tongue swirl over the sensitive bud with experience. 

"Look how pretty you look, hermosa. So pretty, getting your pussy fingered, getting your nipples sucked," Miguel says in between licking and sucking your nipples. 

"So beautiful," Miggy says as he adds another finger, further stretching you out, preparing you for the night. "So fucking beautiful, bonita." 

You grip the sheets as your men pleasure you. And yes, your men. It’s no longer your Miguel and the other Miguel. They’re both yours and in return, you are theirs, and theirs alone. 

“Yes, yes - I - fuck,” you say with closed eyes, unable to form a coherent sentence as Miggy fucks you with his fingers, feeling his speed increase as Miguel sucks and plays with your breasts. You whimper softly when you feel Miggy’s mouth on your inner thigh, licking softly before he bites your skin, gently as always but with enough pressure that it will leave a mark and show by tomorrow morning. With everything happening, you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your climax just from Miggy’s fingers and Miguel’s mouth. 

Miggy can’t help but groan as he feels you squeeze his fingers, knowing you’re close to your climax. He pulls them out at the same time Miguel releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop, eliciting a loud and whiny whimper from you that just serves to arouse the men even more at your neediness. 

“Always so needy, bonita,” Miggy teases as he bites your other inner thigh before licking the area to not only ease the slight pain he’s caused you but to get a taste of your lovely skin. “But I don’t want you to come like that. Not around my fingers, you know that,” he says sternly before he brings his fingers to his mouth, obscenely licking your wetness from them. “Fuck, I’ll never get over how amazing you taste, bonita.”

With Miggy tasting your juices, Miguel reaches over, sliding two fingers over your slit and collecting your wetness to taste it himself. He groans. 

“So sweet, hermosa,” he tells you. “Treating your men to your sweetness, hm? Love giving us a taste, don’t you?” he adds as he keeps licking his long fingers.

You watch as they suck their fingers with eyes closed, lost in the haze of your taste. You can’t help but find the view arousing as they surround you, sucking your arousal off their fingers like it’s the most delicious thing they’ve ever tasted. Their large cocks are hard, already oozing with pre-cum; a sign of how arousing they find this even though you just started. You sit up, an opportunity Miguel takes to grab your face. He kisses you, slipping his tongue into your mouth before he lets go. He's barely released you when Miggy, who at some point got up between your legs, grabs your face, too. He kisses you, a bit more roughly than Miguel. He holds your neck as he slips his tongue into your mouth, making it a purpose to swirl it against yours, letting you taste yourself for a few seconds before he releases you. Miguel takes your face again, and the cycle repeats with the men taking turns kissing you. Their kisses become needier, sloppier, and rougher but you greedily accept them, loving every second even when your lips start to feel swollen.

“Tell us how much you like this,” Miguel says as he releases your face for Miggy. 

“How much you crave our touch,” Miggy adds after he kisses you. 

You sit on the bed as they keep kissing you and asking you to say things but not giving you a chance to answer since they're kissing you back to back, which only seems to get them even more aroused. They love the way you’re so lost even with simple kisses, how you try to form the words they’re telling you but losing your train of thought as soon as their lips meet yours. 

“Tell us how wet this makes you, hermosa,” Miguel continues. 

“Tell us how badly you crave our cocks. How much you love getting attention from your men,” Miggy says. 

“Hermosa needs her two men, right, baby?” Miguel asks, nipping at your earlobe. 

You can only hum in response as they kiss and now gently bite at your body, causing you to whimper and moan. 

“Need you to use your words, bonita. Tell us how badly you need us. Use that pretty mouth of yours,” Miggy says, grabbing your face with a bit more force yet not in a painful way. You open your eyes and meet his red ones. His face is inches away, breath fanning your face as he gives you that look you’ve learned to recognize all too well. He’s ready to fuck you until you see stars. 

“Yes - I need you,” you answer too eagerly as Miguel brings his head closer. You look up at them, sitting between them as they kneel on either side of you. 

“Say it,” Miguel says. “Say you need your men.”

“I - I need my men,” you answer, growing wetter by the second at the sight of them surrounding you, keeping you trapped between their warm and strong bodies.

“And what do you want from your men, bonita? Hm? Tell your men what you want,” Miggy whispers. 

“All I want is to feel good,” you whisper as Miggy brings his thumb close to your mouth, swiping at your bottom lip. “I want to feel the two of you. I - need the two of you,” you admit and that’s all it takes. 

You’re pushed on your back before you even realize it, strong and warm hands spread your legs, allowing Miggy to settle between them. As he readies himself, you feel the tip of his cock brush against your pussy, making the two of you moan at the slightest touch. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Miggy groans as he drags you down the bed, pulling you closer. 

He pushes his tip in with a low growl, feeling your tightness envelop him immediately, sensing how you’re adjusting to his size. While Miggy pushes his cock further into you, Miguel’s mouth returns to your breasts as he strokes himself, knowing that once Miggy is done, it’ll be his turn to have you. A loud moan escapes from your lips as Miggy bottoms out, filling you completely in the most delicious way. 

Feeling your warmth and wetness, all Miggy wants to do is rut into you but he holds back, trying to enjoy the way you feel and look at least for a few seconds before he lets go because damn, you look so beautiful. Your eyes are closed once again, mouth parted with your hands gripping the sheets as he fills you completely and Miguel sucks on your breasts. He starts moving, slowly sliding out and watching your chest rise in anticipation before he slides back in, hearing your soft whimpering begging for more. He can’t help but smirk at the sight; at how needy and responsive you are for them. 

His hips begin to pick up speed, causing you to moan loudly. 

“Yes, Miggy, please,” you whimper. 

“Yes, what, bonita?” Miggy asks as he keeps fucking you at a decent speed, wanting to prolong this moment a bit more. “What do you need?”

Arching your back and with one hand on Miguel’s head to keep his mouth on your breast now, you open your eyes and meet Miggy’s.

“Keep fucking me,” you reply breathlessly, in a way that makes Miggy want to fuck you faster already. “Just like that, please.”

“Good girl,” Miggy praises you, knowing how well you respond to being praised in bed. “Always so good for me, for Miguel. Always so good for us, bonita,” Miggy says as he begins to thrust into you faster, groaning. “Estás tan mojadita. Tan apretadita. Solo para mi, solo para mi,” he moans in Spanish as his hands take hold of your hips.

He grips your hips and thrusts into you, faster and harder. Your bed’s headboard starts hitting the wall repeatedly and loudly, briefly reminding you it’s one of the reasons why you moved out of your apartment as you were getting complaints from too much noise from your neighbors. 

“Mig- Fuck - Mig-ggy! Just - Just lik - that,” you manage to say, driving Miggy crazy at the fact that you can’t even form proper sentences right now. 

“So good, bonita. You’re doing so well taking my cock,” he praises as he moves you slightly, allowing him to thrust into you deeper than before. He grunts as he feels your pussy squeezing him perfectly, getting him closer and closer to his release. 

You nod, whimpering and moaning as your men pleasure you, knowing that this is only the first round of many and once you’re done, you’ll be spent and exhausted.

“Look at you, hermosa, taking Miguel’s cock so well,” Miguel says, releasing one of your nipples from his mouth. You whimper at his words and lack of touch, missing his mouth on your already sensitive breasts from his work. “Miss my mouth already, baby? You are always so eager to have them sucked, aren’t you? You just love it and fuck, I won’t lie. I love seeing you like this. How sensitive you are even to just this,” Miguel says as his hands find their way back to your nipples before he rolls them between his thumbs and index fingers. 

You cry out in pleasure, reaching that point in which you get overwhelmed by every word and touch. Your eyes are closed and you swear you see stars as Miguel continues to tweak with you nipples while Miggy fucks you merciless, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

Even in the blissful state you’re in, your nearest hand to Miguel finds its way to his cock. You wrap your hand around it, pumping it with experience as your thumb swipes his tip, feeling his slickness. Your moves earn you a low growl from Miguel as he keeps playing with your nipples, applying more pressure to them as he feels pleasure from your hand, which increases with each second.

“Fuck, hermosa,” Miguel groans as he slows his movements on your nipples for a few seconds, melting into your touch as you take care of him. 

“Migu-el, come closer,” you tell him as you keep pumping his member in your hand, noticing the way his stomach flexes with each pump. “I want you in my mouth.” 

Miguel groans and shakes his head. “This is about your pleasure, hermosa. Don’t worry about me for now,” he tells you reassuringly but you keep tugging him, looking up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Please, Miguel. Need you - fuck - need you in my mouth. Ple-ase,” you whimper, leaving Miguel no other choice but to fulfill your wish, making Miggy thankful that Miguel is doing it because hell - both men would do anything to make you happy, especially when you’re whimpering like that. 

Miguel moves closer to your head, positioning himself so you can take him in your mouth. You eagerly take his cock and start sucking him off, moaning in pleasure as you feel Miguel start moving slowly while Miggy keeps fucking you, hitting that special spot that makes you feel like you’re no longer seeing stars but you’re up there with them - getting you closer and closer to your release.

“That’s right, baby. Let go, bonita, come for me,” Miggy grunts as he picks up his speed, thrusting into you faster than before. His new speed fills the room with obscene sounds of flesh slapping flesh in addition to the sound of your soaking pussy taking Miggy’s cock.

Your free hand reaches for Miggy as you rapidly feel yourself reaching that high. Miggy lets go from one side of your hip, taking your hand and letting you curl your fingers around his, instantly feeling your nails dig into his palm as you become even more of a whimpering mess underneath him. The three of you are losing it with each passing second, rapidly reaching your highs. At last, that feeling grows and you can’t slow it or stop it. You let go, feeling your thighs tremble as your orgasm unravels. 

“Así, así look how fucking beautiful you look cumming for me, bonita. Fuck - I’m gonna - fill you up right now,” Miggy says groaning and driving his cock deeper, feeling your fingers dig into his palm and your pussy clenching him as you cum.

You can’t help yourself, so you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you as you feel his cock twitch once, twice before he spills inside, filling you with his warm, thick cum as you continue to squeeze him. 

“Mierda, me encanta cuando haces eso,” Miggy groans. “Milking me so well, like the good girl you are.”

Miggy’s words only encourage you to continue to take him and suck Miguel’s cock faster. You move your head as best as you can in the position you’re in, enjoying the sound of both men groaning in pleasure and their words as they praise you for doing so good; for taking their cocks so well. You prepare yourself as Miguel grunts, pushing his cock slightly farther into your mouth. 

“Fuck, hermosa, I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours - I’m gonna-” Miguel warns before he shoots his warm load in your mouth. You moan and try to keep up with all the sensations as both men fill you up.

Miggy moans as he keeps cumming inside of you, still fucking you but slowing down as you’re a shaky, whimpering mess beneath the two men, trying to recover. You're breathing heavily, trying to come back to your senses but it’s too much. Miguel finishes spilling into your mouth and you swallow his load, feeling his hands still working on your chest, though more gently. Miggy is still moving inside of you, still releasing his cum as his loads are larger than Miguel’s, groaning in pleasure and telling you what a good girl you are for taking his load.

At last, both men pull out of you with wet pops. You whimper softly and open your eyes slowly, finding both men kneeled around you, watching you with pride and affection. You smile at them, feeling heat in your cheeks as you lay before them completely exposed with Miggy’s thick cum slowly leaking out of you. 

Your Miguel’s smile down at you, caressing you as you recover. They settle at your sides, snuggling you and whispering sweet nothings, allowing you time to prepare for the second round in your shared bed.

----

Translations for words in Spanish: mierda - shit hermosa - gorgeous bonita - pretty, beautiful "Estás tan mojadita. Tan apretadita. Solo para mi, solo para mi" - "You're so wet. So tight. Just for me, just for me" "Así..." - "like that" "Mierda, me encanta cuando haces eso" - "shit, I love it when you do that"

[upsidedownwithsteve]

BAD FOR BUSINESS: THE BONUS LEVEL

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

It was the first shift you’d had with Steve since you’d made each other come in the front seat of his car.

It had been as you expected: a little awkward, a little nerve wracking. Gazes meeting across the arcade, dim lights hiding Steve’s pink cheeks, your frantic, wide eyes, the hitched breaths every time the other came a little too close.

You stayed away for the most part, hidden behind the cash desk while Steve helped Mike Wheeler and his friends with the jerky controller on Space Invaders. But then the eight o’clock was rolling round and the customers left, Robin vacuumed the floors and Murray was hurrying out the door and telling you that you were in charge of locking up. The rain came when Robin left, her jacket stretched over her head as she ran to her mom’s car and then it was just Steve, watching you from across the desk.

The weather outside was a roar above your head, a deafening din of water of rain on the roof and with the machines powered down for the night, it was the only thing you could hear. Maybe, if you listened hard enough, you would’ve been able to hear your own heartbeat under it all, matching the erratic beat.

“You gonna help?” You asked Steve, just to break the tension. You gestured to the stack of receipts and tickets and coins on the desk that still needed counted. “Or are you just gonna gawk?”

Steve turned pinker under the lights, ultraviolet and fuschia, neon aquamarine from the glow of the games and Steve was too pretty under it all, prettier with his flushed cheeks. It gave you a little piece of normality back when he narrowed his eyes at you, brows furrowed, gaze bored. But his nose was still tinted pink when he reached your side and when his arm brushed yours, you hated and loved how close he was.

Your stomach flipped, tumbled, an endless fall into something you couldn’t make out. Not yet.

You stood in silence for minutes, maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Maybe it had only been one. But the tension was too much, it was splitting at the seams, it was cracking you open, a yawning, stretching ache in your chest, beating at your bones and—

“You’re not doing that right,” is what you said. And then you just shut up, lips sealed, features pinched as if in pain because it was taking you everything you had to not talk about the kiss. Both kisses. The two fucking kisses you’d shared with Steve fucking Harrington.

And it was easier to fight about it than anything else.

Steve scoffed like you knew he would, eyes rolling, lips curling. “How the fuck can I be doing it wrong?” He bit. “I’m counting tickets, princess, not balancing million dollar cheques.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Because he was side by side with hand brushing yours every time you both reached across the desk and he was warm, he was solid and he was wearing the same cologne from the Photo Booth and if you were going to put your smart mouth to use again, it was going to be against Steve’s.

It was too hot and suddenly the rain above wasn’t the loudest thing in the room. You swallowed hard and tried to block out the best of your heart against your ribcage. It was so loud, you wondered if Steve could hear it too.

“What? No argument?” Steve glanced at you from the side of his eyes, frowning. You weren’t sure what gave it away, maybe your tensed shoulders, your blown out pupils. Whatever it was, it made the boy too bold. “You’re lookin’ a little warm, princess, you okay there?”

Smug. Steve sounded smug and it was fucking infuriating.

And then you were on him.

Or maybe it was the other way around, you were sure. It happened seconds ago, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember anything. All that mattered now was that your lips were fused to Steve’s and he was crowding you against the counter, his hands splayed against your sides, fingers slipping up over your ribs and making your shirt slide with it, bare skin exposed for him to touch, a gasp wrenched from his throat at the feel of you, your hands grabbing at his hair and pulling hard.

He was moaning, but maybe you were too, gasping into each others patted mouths and swallowing each others noises, noses smashed to cheeks and hands roaming, bodies pressed together in a desperate bid to get as close as possible with your clothes still on and you’d never been so glad that Murray never bothered with working security cameras.

Steve was saying your name, whispers of it between curses, making it sound like a prayer, like you were something holy, that you were gonna save him but you decided then and there you’d do whatever it took to make Steve sound the way he did - even if you went to hell with him.

But then he was pushing you away, panting, big hands curling around the backs of your knees and you were on the desk, tickets and coins scattering, sitting in a pool of neon lights and the silk of your splayed skirt.

Steve sucked in a breath, wrecked sounding. He’d never looked prettier. Swollen lips, pink cheeks, hair a riot from your teasing fingers, his eyes darker than they were supposed to be.

“I wanna go down on you, so fuckin’ badly.”

You swore out loud, brain glitching for a second, stuttering over the words that had gotten stuck in your throat and you were nodding, frantic, head bobbing and jaw hanging loose because Steve was dropping to his knees and sliding his palms up your thighs.

“M’gonna need some confirmation here, princess,” Steve urged, kissing across your knee, his hair tickling at the insides of your thighs.

You were tingling, an electric kind of buzz running under your skin, your body a livewire and you hadn’t felt this turned on since god knows fucking when. It was a filthy, pretty thing, dirty and wrong and in an inappropriate place with a beautiful boy who you’d tricked yourself into hating.

Supposedly.

So you let some sounds rip from your throat and thankfully they made words, desperate pleas of agreement and Steve was grinning, looking like he’d had all his wishes granted as he mouthed his way between your thighs. He didn’t hesitate and there was no shame from you either as he dragged up your skirt, fingers hooking into the cotton of your underwear so he could pull it to the side. He groaned, a breath punching from him as his lips parted at the sight of you, pretty and wet and waiting.

He made you squeal, smiling against you as he leaned in to kiss at your folds, delicate little things against your slick skin, nose nudging at your clit and then you moaned his name and he lost all sense of control.

“Steve, oh— ohmygod, fuck!” You lurched forward, body curling over him as you grabbed at the boy’s hair and Steve just answered in kind, hands curling around the tops of your thighs to pull you closer to him, your ass perched precariously on the edge of the counter, toes skimming the floor and you were almost riding his face, hips rolling as he held you up and licked broad stripes over your cunt.

He only moved back to press a surprisingly sweet kiss to the juncture of your thigh but he had your eyes rolling when he looked up at your from under his lashes, lips pink and wet from you. “M’so goddamn hard right now, you have no idea.”

You were crying out, an awfully loud moan ripping from your lips and you were putty, you were a mess. And for the next fifteen minutes, you were entirely Steve’s. He took you apart with his tongue and his lips and you let him, his blunt fingernails leaving half moon markings in your hips that’d you stare at in the mirror later.

And when you came, hard, grinding down onto Steve’s mouth, his chin, his nose, you let go of your manic grip on his hair and smoothed a hand over his temple instead, coaxing him closer before you gasped out his name, breathless.

The next morning, nobody could answer why there were tickets scattered over the floor, hidden under machines and stuck to forgotten bubblegum. And when the rest of the team looked to you and Steve for answers, you both just walked in opposite directions, matching smiles hidden in the shadows between the neon lights.