#any number of people could respond because i know he's said this more than once lol

[lessluck]

raymond ellis // country singer // open to mutuals

"Well, I'm leaving town in the morning, but I've generally found the best way to get to know somebody is when you might never see them again."

[sutorus]

OFF TO THE RACES

DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.

PAIRING: toji x reader

WC: 1.9k

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 

A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!

“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 

a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 

he had told you to dress up today. 

how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 

if only you had known.

you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.

you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 

it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 

the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 

but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 

that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 

toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 

“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”

you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 

the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 

he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 

you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 

you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 

but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?

the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 

it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 

the heat inside you spreads further. 

“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”

it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 

“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 

your shut your eyes tightly. 

you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 

you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 

you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.

they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 

a one in eight change. 

god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 

you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  

“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 

it’s useless, of course.

toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 

he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 

but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 

your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 

you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 

your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.

he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 

toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 

your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 

stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 

toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 

he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.

no remorse at all. 

it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 

you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 

your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 

you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 

someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 

an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.

surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—

before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 

but his fingers don’t leave you. 

no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 

and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.

if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 

you wish you could cry right now.

instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.

those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 

you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 

“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”

you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 

“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 

his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 

“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 

it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 

when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 

you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.

dangerously close to first place. 

it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 

you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 

if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.

when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 

you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 

there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 

“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”

the man points his thumb over his shoulder.

the race is over.

horse number four came in at fourth place. 

how fitting. 

his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.

but still. are they really going to—

“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 

toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 

“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”

that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 

toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?

you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 

there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 

the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.

he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 

toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 

when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 

“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”

toji smirks.

you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 

you swallow down the last of your sobs.

“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."

[drewsprincessy]

loving you was hard.

warnings: angst, anxiety, anger, comfort, arguing, crying, lmk if i missed any

summary: rafe and reader are in love, but rafe struggles to accept it, he doesnt believe in love.

part one

rafe cameron x female reader.

you had fallen for rafe, hard. it started off with stealing glances at each other every so often, then it escalated to him asking for your number. you two talked every night, dusk til dawn until you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. you were the only person he was gentle with, the only one he would give affection to, and even crack a smile with.

he caught himself re-reading your texts and smiling at them, going through your insta posts, checking your following, checking your location, and checking when you were last online.

he thought he just needed a quick hookup, and that was all. but no. the way you smile at him and your dimple pokes through your cheek, or maybe its the way your eyes light up when your excited about something.

he doesnt know what it is, but he cant fall in love. your not important, its just all in his head.

he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands as he thinks, he regains his composure, shaking his head to try and get rid of the thought. he lets out a long breath, and he stands up. he goes to smoke some weed.

he stops answering your calls, and even stops responding all together. he cant fall in love, he's not fit for a relationship. right?

your a mess. you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt the way that he ghosted you out of nowhere. but i mean you cant be mad, because your still just a hookup for him. right?

i mean you thought it'd be different because hes never met up with a girl more than once, you guys have even been on real dates. not just the ones where you have sex and not talk for another 2 weeks. you two had gotten to really know each other.

you were just confused, and hurt. you decided you were gonna try to let it go. try and move on, because theres always other men out there.

~

2 weeks pass

you were at home laying in your bed, you just had on a comfy tee shirt, and some yoga shorts.

you had been scrolling thru your phone, giggling at a video you seen on tiktok. you clicked on the comments and scrolled thru them, and you were giggling until a message popped up at the top of your screen. from rafe; your smile faintly drops as you click on the message

-

imessage:

rafe: been thinking about you. um, im really sorry for ditchin you n' shit. i just been going thru stuff and didnt wanna take it out on you. im sorry alright?

y/n: its okay rafe, i understand. call if you need anything. okay?

you were so understanding, and forgiving. even with the half ass apology he gave you, you still forgave him.

-

over the next few weeks, you and rafe start going out again, he fell more and more in love with you, and you felt the same about him. he had enough of it. he couldnt be falling for you.

he was high off drugs, and his breath reeked of alcohol. he was stumbling and could barely walk. there were crowds of people around him at the party he attended to.

you had also been there with rafe, but went off somewhere with kiara and sarah. you decided the topic of conversation was boring, and excused yourself with a "ill be right back." and went to find him.

he had went off into a room with some random chick, they were making out and her clothes were half off. you had almost stumbled on your feet when you walked in, your eyes had immediately began brimming with tears. to save yourself the embarrassment you walk off, quickly as possible. trying to get the hell out of there.

rafe comes outside to where you had walked off to, he immediately catches up to you since his legs were longer, and grabs your arm "whats your problem..why are you crying?" he says, trying not to slur his words

you decide, fuck it. he doesnt care anyway. "your my problem rafe. i fucking love you, i have for a long time. and you lead me on and act like you love me the same way, but then i find you about to hookup with some random girl, that you dont even know! like i dont even exist rafe, and im gonna be honest. that shit HURTS! im so sick of this, im sick of you, and your bullshit excuses, your half ass apologies. FUCK YOU!"

rafe feels a pang of guilt in his chest, even thru the alcohol and drugs. he still manages to muster up some excuse, hes trying to hide the way he feels. "i mean..y/n. what did you expect? i told you what the hell u were gettin into. i dont gain.. feelings. so quit being a damn crybaby"

it starts to rain, and you storm off, even when he yells your name, telling u to come back you dont listen. you kick your heels off, and walk all the way home in the pouring rain.

once u get home, you delete his number, and cry yourself to sleep.

he tries to act as if he doesnt care, he drinks until he passes out.

~

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭

[russellsppttemplates]

All the milestones (Lando Norris)

Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected

Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.

"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.

"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.

"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.

"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.

"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.

Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.

"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.

"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.

"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.

"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.

A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.

"But he's too small", you argued.

"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".

Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.

"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.

Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.

The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.

"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.

"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.

"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.

Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.

Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.

"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.

"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.

"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.

"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.

"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.

"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.

"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.

"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.

Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.

"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.

When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.

"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.

"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.

"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.

After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".

"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.

Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".

.

"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.

"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.

"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.

"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.

"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.

"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.

"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.

"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.

"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.

"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".

By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.

"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.

"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.

Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.

While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.

Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.

"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.

Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.

Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.

"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.

"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".

A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.

Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.

"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".

"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.

"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.

"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.

"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.

.

"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.

A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.

"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.

Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".

"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.

"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.

"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.

Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.

"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.

"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.

"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".

.

You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.

Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.

Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.

Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.

"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.

"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.

"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.

"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.

"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.

You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.

When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.

"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.

"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.

"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.

"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.

.

"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.

"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.

"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.

"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".

"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.

"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.

By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.

Post partum blurb

[yuurei20]

Hello!

Bit of a dumb question

I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings.. My sister keeps saying he said that he ate everyone but kept Floyd bc he looked like he'd be funny or something. I've never seen this mentioned before and I wanna prove her wrong

Hello hello!! ^^ Thank you for this question!

“Jade ate his siblings” is one of many unproven fan theories, based on a number of comments in the game that might be hints about something that may or may not have happened!

The theory goes that Jade and Floyd hatched from eggs (moray eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs at once in real life, though in-game is unspecified) at approximately the same time.

Jade then selected Floyd as the one sibling he would spare, and ate the rest. (The reason why he chose Floyd is technically not specified.)

This is based on many things that can be found throughout the game, such as this cryptic comment from Jade: “I’m glad I chose you as my partner when we were but little elvers.”

Floyd responds, “Not sure what that smile’s for, but I’m glad we survived together, too,” which may insinuate that if something did happen, Floyd might not know what it was.

Jade also says, “there are five in my family at present.” One interpretation of this line is that their family used to be larger, and might get even smaller in the future, but five is where they are at now. 

The more optimistic side of EN fandom will sometimes theorize that maybe their mother is pregnant and there will actually be a new addition to the family soon rather than a loss, but we have been given a surprising amount of information about how common it is for people to go missing in the Coral Sea, with otherwise zero hints that they will soon be getting between 1 and 10,000 new siblings.

The evidence used for the “hatched from eggs” part of the theory comes from Floyd insisting that neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This might seem vague in English, where which twin of two was technically born first might not come up very often, but in Japanese one twin being born first would mean that one of them would refer to the other as something like “nii-san,” like Ortho does with Idia, or "aniki," as Ace does with his brother and Leona does with Falena.

(For a real-world example I recommend referring to the Twitter account of Jamil’s voice actor, Futaba Kaname. He has (弟) in his username for “little brother,” while his identical twin Yuu has (兄) in his username for “older brother.”)

But neither Jade nor Floyd refer to one another as “nii-san," "aniki" or anything but their first names.

While “bro” or “brother” will sometimes be added to their dialogue on EN neither twin has ever actually called the other “brother” in their original dialogue, because the Japanese language makes you specify older or younger (an age-neutral word for “brother” doesn’t really exist) and, as Floyd says outright in the game, neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This makes sense if they both hatched from eggs at approximately the same time, rather than being born like mammals.

Another point that is often referenced in the “Jade and Floyd: Dead Siblings” topic is how, on the subject of ghosts they have seen, both twins mention seeing people on Halloween that looked strikingly like each other, only to realize that they weren’t. 

Floyd: “I once thought I saw Jade in three different places at once.”

The theory goes that they saw the ghosts of their dead siblings.

This may or may not be considered evidence of how the twins might have had other siblings at one point and something happened to them, but even if so, it could have just been a Finding-Nemo style incident with a barracuda or something similar.

So why do people point to Jade as the perpetrator?

(Maybe irrelevant, but Rook’s nickname for Jade in the original game is, “Monsieur Premeditated Crime.”)

Jade is a heavy eater, on par with Sebek (another thing they have in common is they have both threatened to eat Grim), saying that people are often surprised by how much he eats.

Jade says this is because his “fuel efficiency is lacking” (low blood pressure?).

Floyd is aware of this and seems to go to extra lengths to make sure Jade eats properly, encouraging him to relax and fetching food for him during Halloween.

The original meaning of Jade’s unique magic is, “the tooth that takes out a bite,” so this is definitely a theme with him.

And his official, disliked food? Eel.

To the original question: no, there is not a definitive line in the game that states “Jade ate his siblings” that we can point to as proof that it actually, canonically happened.

But we do have many cryptic lines that might possibly be insinuating that a infamously hungry Jade chose Floyd as the one sibling he would spare and ate the rest, Floyd may not know it happened, and Jade might be actively choosing not to tell him 🐬

[lostintransist]

Liaison Part 4 Winning This Bet Will Be Easy

Part 1 can be found here. Up to chapter 32 over on AO3.

Kate could, arguably, be the person you know the best in the 141. You had her number saved in your work phone and also your personal. She took you to lunch at least once a week to confirm you weren’t having any problems. This lunch felt a bit special since you had been at your job for six months.

Kate seemed to treat these meals like an informal progress report. She also checked that Ghost wasn’t giving you any more problems. Seems word got around to all the teams that you and he did not get along. Any week you saw him you reported what offense he handed out like a challenge coin and how you responded. The week you told her about the hair pulling she shot beer through her nose.

Coughing, Kate grabbed a napkin. She pressed it against her beer-leaking nose.

“You said what to him?”

“I told him that hair pulling is kinky and asked him if he would follow up on his offer.” Shoving a bite of pasta in your mouth you watch Kate clean up the mess on her face.

“God I wish I could have seen that. Ghost isn’t always a right bastard but when he is it’s hard for anyone beyond Soap to take him to task. Why do you two hate each other so much?”

“I can’t say why on his end but I don’t respond well to demands. First thing he asked of me, ‘scuse me, demanded of me happened on a bad day was to confirm a contract and I could not respond in any way that wouldn’t cause problems. Seems no one else stands up to him so I have become his favorite wall to ram his head into.”

“You’ve been here six months now, how do you feel like you’re fitting in?”

“I’m not.”

Kate paused, looking you over. “Tell me more about that.”

“There isn’t much to say, I am chained to the computer and the phone. I took over this portion of the job from you, you know how much work this is.”

“And I will never be able to thank you enough for that, believe me,” Kate reaches across the table to squeeze your hand once before sitting back up.

“I think the only person I could say I have had a non-work related conversation with is Roach.”

“Roach? Really?”

Kate’s confusion is understandable. Roach is voluntarily mute. You tend to forget he is in the room when you yell at your computer until he sends you a cheeky message about keeping it down over there. It never comes across as high-handed or rude. The man has quick fingers and a quicker wit. The odd back and forth of talking to him and his responses rolling in over chat doesn’t bother you. It’s no different than a voice note in a text conversation.

“Some of the guys are in town tonight and we are hitting the local pub, why don’t you come and get to know them better?” Kate’s offer sounds genuine.

“Will you be there? I would hate for you to miss another epic loss for Ghost,” you tip your beer toward her, brow raised.

The laughter bubbles out of her, “I hadn’t planned on it but if you are going to be there I would love to watch a match up with Ghost.”

“Well, I will meet you in the lobby tonight for drinks. Hopefully, the sparks that fly will show how well Ghost and I don’t get along.”

❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈

No one questioned you or Kate when you appeared in the lobby, standing close to her side. Nearly twenty people filled the small space, some of whom you had no name for. You were positive you had a file on them just no idea which name belonged to which face. When the men moved forward through the door you followed, chatting with Kate the whole time.

The group ended up at a pub no less than a five-minute walk from the building. A cozy space with dark wood paneling and an air that the pub had been around exactly as it was long before the Romans came to conquer.

You end up sitting straight across from Ghost because of course, you do. At the table with you are Ghost, Kate, Price, Soap, and a yet unnamed man with a sad smile. Someone with a name tag appeared at the table once everyone had sat. Price passed over his card to cover the costs of the dinner for the few tables they took up. The woman took everyone’s order with an efficiency that spoke of experience.

The fries, chips, you ordered arrive hot at the table with the drinks. Listening as everyone else talks gives you a better sense of who they are. The man you had no name for goes by Reb, his file noted he was a sniper. He tells good stories, and everyone laughs at the experience he shares of trying to outrun a bull when he accidentally set up a nest on the wrong side of a hill.

Everyone notes when someone enters the bar, quick glances and assessments without breaking the conversation. Even you notice when a gorgeous redhead steps into the room. She settles at the bar. Large, loose curls drift down her back and her freckled face is clear from where you sit.

Over the next hour, you watch three different members of the 141 from different tables try and talk to her. Each gets shut down hard within thirty seconds. After the third man slinks back to his table Soap comments.

“Poor bastards, I doubt anyone could take her home tonight.”

“I could,” you pop another fry into your mouth.

You pause chewing when the table goes silent.

“What? She hasn’t given any of the men an iota of attention. Look at how she’s dressed, her outfit screams lesbian.”

All eyes focus on the woman at the bar. She doesn’t turn but shifts on her stool.

“Prove it then.” The challenge comes from Ghost.

“Wanna bet on it Gengar?”

Kate’s eyes go wide and connect with Price’s who smirks at the whole interaction.

“Oh, Jesus save us,” Soap takes a large swallow of his drink.

“£1,000,” Ghost snarls.

“Done, winning this bet will be easy.” Pulling a stack of sticky notes and a pen from your backpack you write down your Venmo.

Peeling off the top layer you slap the paper on the center of the table.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to get the money together after I leave with her. Kate, thanks for the invite. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sending nods around the table, you give Ghost a wink instead.

A fourth man is leaving, tail between his legs, when you slide onto the stool next to the beauty.

“Hi, I know you probably came here to just have a drink alone but could I interest you in helping me win a bet?”

She sends you a heavy side eye as she sips at her drink.

“What kind of bet?”

Leaning heavily onto the bar you point toward Ghost.

“You see that scary motherfucker over there?” She turns, eyes him, and turns back to you. You continue, “See I don’t get along with him. Quite frankly I think he is a bastard and would love to win £1,000 off him. The task that will win me that money is getting you to leave with me.”

A surprised little laugh drifts to you.

“That is quite a tall order.”

“I agree, and the least I could do is tell you what is going on and ask for a bit of help.” Sticking your hand out for a shake you give a name, “You can call me L.”

“L,” she looks you up and down, more interested, “You can call me Clare.”

“Hi Clare, wanna help me win a bet? I would love to take you to dinner for your trouble.”

Her tongue plays with the edge of her canine as she thinks.

“Why not, where would you take me?” She turns from the bar to face you fully.

The scraping of chair legs against the wooden floor tells you someone is unhappy to be losing. An angry murmur follows and you trust that Price or Soap will handle Ghost.

“I’m new in the area, I would take you wherever you wanted. You know the max budget for the date,” you flirt with her.

Her hand moves to rest on your arm as she leans closer.

“And if I did,” she pauses, “want to go home with you?”

“Well I’ve never had a chance to bed a beautiful and savvy woman like yourself but I’m a quick study,” you lean forward, tipping your head to the side ever so slightly.

Clare takes the invitation and initiates a small kiss. You match her effort, pulling away with a smile.

“Let’s get out of here Clare, I owe you dinner,” you breathe the words against her lips.

She lips from her stool, dropping a small purse on a long chain over one shoulder. You signal for the bartender.

“Can you put her drink on Price’s tab? He will approve it. If not I will pay you for it the next time I come by.”

The woman nods, “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I would hope so.”

Clare heads toward the front door, and you follow behind. Before you leave the building you turn and find Ghost staring at you, eyes hard.

Lifting all your fingers you mouth ‘ten minutes’ at him before you follow your date for the night into the dark.

Your phone dings before you can hail a cab.

Part 3 | Part 5

Masterlist

@nicroyal02 Chapter 32 is up on AO3.

[celiastjamesoscar]

Umbrella Paradox pt 2

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you get a call while you’re at work about an attack on civilians, only to found out the one hurt is none other than Sam.

Warnings: described sutures, light cussing, suggestive themes, Tara being a menace

Read part one here

Word count: 7.4k

It was a peaceful night at the station that Y/N had hoped for. She desperately needed to get caught up on paperwork; tonight was the perfect time. The big hand on the clock slowly made its way towards the 11. As Y/N recalled all the events during a car crash last week for her report, her mind slowly drifted back to her Sam. It had been a dreadful week since she last tasted Sam’s lips, and she longed for them. She missed basking in her presence and that beautiful smile that rarely happened.

Of course, Y/N had tried to reach out to Sam, stalking the coffee shop like a weirdo, but she got no results. She’d go in once in the morning and once more at night, hoping to see the pulchritudinous woman. She’d spend roughly thirty minutes in her corner booth before grudgingly leaving the cafe. One time, however, she got called out on it.

It was late at night, close to twelve in the morning, when someone sat in Y/N’s booth across from her. Y/N looked up from her soup and stared at the person. She knew she had seen them before but couldn't recall when. She was getting ready to ask the person who they were before they spoke up for her, “Looking for Sam?” They asked with a smirk and narrow eyes as they intertwined their fingers.

Y/N’s eyes darted around the cafe, seeing it was empty except for a young author writing his screenplay. She turned to face them before speaking, “I have no idea what you’re talking about-” she glanced down at their nametag-“Mark.”

They let out a small chuckle as they stared Y/N down, “Yes, you do. You’re the one who walked Sam about a week ago. I’d assume you’re why she keeps picking up extra shifts.”

Y/N looked back up at Mark when they mentioned her walking Sam home. She instantly remembered Mark as the coworker who hid in the kitchen when she met Sam. She started to bounce her leg, not knowing how to respond to them. “Why are you asking me if I’m here for Sam then?”

“Because I think it’s cute,” they said with a genuine smile, the first one of the evening. They unlaced their fingers and leaned back against the booth, “Sam’s only worked here a few months, but the way she smiled at you. Man, I’m jealous.”

Y/N smiled when Mark mentioned how Sam smiled at her, glad she wasn’t imagining things. “So, can you tell me when she works again? I would like to see her again soon,” Y/N asked with a hopeful smile as she leaned her arms on the table.

Mark let out an evil chuckle as they stood up from the booth, “oh, no, sweetheart. If I told you her schedule, that would take all of the fun out for me,” they said as they disappeared back into the kitchen. After that, Y/N looked around uncomfortably before slowly leaving the booth and the cafe.

Sam also tried her best to work more, picking up any free shift she could just in the hopes of seeing her EMT. Her head would perk up every time the bell above the door rang, but she would hang her head in disappointment when she saw it wasn’t Y/N. She started to kick herself for not giving Y/N her number, but she also liked this game of hunting and searching for each other. Somehow though, they always managed to miss each other just by ten minutes, which was quite pitiful.

As Y/N wrote down the crash details, her partner approached her desk and kicked the side, startling her. “We got a call from Abe’s Snake Bodega. A group of kids attacked some people, leaving a couple of them bloodied up and bruised. Grab your gear; we leave in three,” Winston said before he walked off again. Y/N let out a small groan; her shift ended in thirty minutes, and she could not wait to go home and sleep, but of course, someone just had to get into a fight.

Winston was Y/N’s best friend and roommate. They grew up together and were practically inseparable. He was a little shorter than Y/N, standing at about 5’7, and had short blonde curly hair with piercing blue eyes that freaked Y/N out. There have been several occasions where Y/N threatened to buy him brown contacts, as he sometimes resembled that one picture of Miley Cyrus, and Y/N sometimes hung it up on his bedroom door.

Once Y/N finished writing her sentence, she stood up, stretched, and grabbed her bag before going to the ambulance. “Nuh uh, get out now,” Y/N said as she walked towards the front of the vehicle and saw Winston on the driver’s side.

“It’s my turn to drive it, Y/N,” he exclaimed as he crossed his arms, throwing his version of a tantrum. “You drove last time.”

Not wanting to fight, Y/N scoffed as she walked to the passenger side, ignoring the happy dance Winston did in his seat. “So, if a fight broke out, why are we going? Can’t they just go home and clean themselves up?” Y/N asked once she sat down and put on her seat.

Winston started the vehicle and pulled out of the station before responding, “Yeah, I slightly lied about that,” Y/N sent him a death glare as she placed her medical bag on the floor between her legs, “one of the kids pulled out a knife, attacked someone with it before the cops intervened.”

“This person better be so close to death that they already have a toe tag on them,” Y/N said as she leaned back into her seat with a sigh, causing Winston to laugh at her actions.

When they arrived at the scene, they both let out a groan. They would have to storm through a giant group to find just one injured person. “Alright, the scene looks safe, and only one person is reported injured. I’ll ask the cops where the person is; you check on the crowd. Is that alright with you?” Y/N asked as she exited the ambulance with her bag, already donning her white gloves.

Winston nodded as he followed behind Y/N while also putting on his gloves with his medical bag slung over his shoulder, “sounds good, captain.”

The pair push their way through the crowd before finally seeing what happened. There’s a woman in the back of the police car, screaming her head off about being mistreated and being placed falsely under arrest. From What Y/N can tell, the woman’s friends are arguing with two police officers, saying that their friend didn’t do anything wrong and was defending herself. They all looked familiar as she studied the group, even the lady screaming like a banshee. Y/N just couldn’t place a finger on where she had seen them before but just shrugged it off as a weird coincidence.

Another cop was standing next to a smaller group of people. One was sitting on the ground with their back turned to Y/N with a smaller person leaning on their shoulder. A more prominent built man talked with his hands, explaining the whole story to the officer. From what Y/N could tell, the man's sister would occasionally butt in, correcting his story as it seemed he liked exaggerating details.

As she approached the group, the cop looked up from his notebook and pointed toward the two people sitting on the sidewalk's curb. Y/N nodded her head as she walked towards them. “Hello, my name is Y/N, and I’ll be examining your wounds.” She trailed off when she saw who was sitting on the ground.

Sam looked at her with a weak smile as her right hand pressed against her upper left arm. Her hair was slightly wet, and some stuck to her face and neck. She was wearing a white bare-shouldered sweater, and if this were a different circumstance, Y/N would have complemented it; she still might. Y/N noticed the blood that had started to seep into the white cotton, and a frown overtook her face as her blood began to boil. She glanced over her left shoulder to look at the woman in the squad car; she had to psychically hold herself back from walking over there.

She quickly turned her attention back to Sam, “I can clean it here or back at the ambulance,” she spoke with that soft tone Sam remembered, along with her gentle eyes that never strayed too far from Sam’s.

Sam looked down at the more petite girl still on her shoulder, “Let’s just stay here; I need to keep an eye on everyone.”

Y/N nodded at Sam’s words as she looked for somewhere more comfortable to sit. Her eyes instantly landed on a rectangular metal picnic table underneath a tree. Sam followed Y/N’s eyes before standing up and walking with Y/N. The smaller girl followed closely behind.

Sam sat at the end of the table on the right as Y/N sat to the left of Sam, her legs straddling the bench. The smaller girl sat across from the two, her narrow eyes constantly stalking Y/N’s every move as if Y/N was going to hurt Sam rather than patch her up. Y/N placed her bag on the table, opened it, and pulled out the suture kit and scissors.

Sam watched Y/N with tender eyes. She was scared that Y/N had to see her like this, covered in her own blood with a nasty cut on her arm that won’t stop bleeding even though she’s been covering it with napkins. “Can you move your hand for me?” Y/N asked, quickly pulling Sam back to reality. She had a pair of scissors in her hand, and Sam looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I have to cut your shirt to see the full damage.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam replied as she pulled her hand away, along with the bloody napkins. Sam looked back at Y/N to find the woman already looking at Sam with those loving eyes she missed so much. If her baby sister weren’t sitting across from her, Sam would have kissed Y/N.

Y/N placed one hand on Sam’s arm while her other held the scissors, cutting away the fabric. Once she had cut out a square in the clothing, she placed the scissors down along with the cutout clothing. The cut was six inches across Sam’s arm and would need stitches. Y/N sighed as she grabbed hydrogen peroxide and poured some onto a small bandage. “This is going to sting. I'm sorry,” Y/N whispered as she pressed the cloth against Sam’s arm with her right hand.

Sam let out a slight hiss and tightly shut her eyes but relaxed once she felt Y/N’s left thumb rub her arm. Once Y/N deemed the wound clean, she removed her hand and the bandage and placed it on the table. She popped open the suture kit and got the needle and thread ready. “The cut isn’t deep, but it will need stitches,” Y/N explained as she moved the needle toward the center of the cut, “this will hurt,” Y/N said as she pierced through Sam’s skin and pushed the needle through, causing a groan to escape Sam’s lips.

Sam went to grab the bench so she had something to squeeze onto, but her left hand accidentally landed on Y/N’s mid-thigh. Y/N’s eyes quickly snapped to Sam’s hand, and Sam expected Y/N to tell her to remove her hand, but Y/N just gave her that gentle smile reserved for Sam, silently telling her it was okay.

Sam visibly relaxed once she saw Y/N give her the okay, and she gently traced small circles onto Y/N’s thigh with her thumb. Y/N smiled at the woman’s actions as she continued the suture. “I have to ask you some questions. Is that alright with you?” Y/N asked while looking at Sam; her hands stopped momentarily.

“Yes, of course. Go ahead,” Sam responded too quickly, causing Y/N to smirk and Tara’s eyes to dart back and forth between the two women. She started to pick up on some tension between the two when they first sat down, but now, judging from Sam’s quick response and Y/N’s smirk, this wasn’t their first meeting.

“Do you know what today’s date is?” Y/N asked with a more serious tone.

“July 7th, 2023,” Sam replied through gritted teeth while squeezing Y/N’s thigh. Y/N almost had to bite back a moan at the pressure.

“Okay, can you tell me your full name and date of birth?”

Sam scoffed at the question and looked at Y/N; the poor girl had a determined look on her face as a bit of her tongue stuck out, clearly trying her best not to hurt Sam while giving her good stitches. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask for my report; I need to determine your level of consciousness,” Y/N defended when she felt Sam’s glare.

“Samantha Carpenter, May 19th, 1997,” Sam replied worriedly. She figured she was older than Y/N, but now that Y/N knew Sam was older, she hoped the age gap didn’t ruin anything between them. As if reading Sam’s thoughts, Y/N spoke teasingly, “Happy birthday then, Samantha.”

Sam rolled her eyes and scoffed at Y/N’s words, “Almost two months late,” but she squeezed Y/N’s thigh to signal she was joking.

“Better late than never,” Y/N replied with a cheeky grin as her eyes never left Sam’s arm.

Y/N finished stitching up the right side of the cut and quickly tied it in a knot. “Okay, I just finished the right side; now I will suture the left side,” Y/N said as she looked into Sam’s beautiful brown eyes.

She desperately wanted to kiss Sam. No, she needed to kiss Sam. She felt as though she might die if she didn’t feel Sam’s lips against her own soon: like they were her lifeline. She needed to feel those soft lips against her own but was pulled from her daydream when someone cleared their throat, “So, are you two a thing?” Tara asked with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.

“No.” Y/N and Sam stated simultaneously, looking at each other with wide eyes as Tara replied with an ‘uh huh.’ Too ashamed to respond, Y/N returned to stitching up Sam’s arm.

“Well, Chad explained the story to the cops, but I had to give them real details,” the woman from earlier said as she walked over to the group. She quickly raked her eyes up and down Y/N and put her arms behind her back before speaking with a flirtatious tone, “Well, hello.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered over to the woman; she was maybe around Sam’s height, but it was hard to tell. She had long, curly black hair and pretty brown eyes. “May I help you?” Y/N questioned as she focused her attention back on Sam’s arm.

“Once you're done with Sam, I need to be examined as well. I think I might need a back brace,” the woman said as she pretended to pop her back, then stuck her hand out towards Y/N, “Im Mindy, by the way.”

Y/N looked back at Mindy and moved her hand that wasn’t holding the needle, showing the woman that her hands were quite busy with Sam, as they had her blood on them. “I'm Y/N, but I think you’ll live. If you need immediate medical attention, my partner is over there,” Y/N motioned with her head over to where Winston was standing; he was examining one of the girls who had gotten punched by someone. But by telling How Tara kept rubbing her right hand, Y/N guessed that she found the assailant.

Mindy let out a small groan as she leaned back dramatically, “Come on, dude! I’m trying to flirt with you! You know, hitting on you.”

“I know. I appreciate your affection, but I already have a lover,” Y/N said gently as she looked at Mindy and Sam before returning her eyes to her sutures. Sam’s mind went blank When Y/N said she had a lover. She wasn’t sure if it was Sam or someone else, but her heart swelled at the thought. Sam gently squeezed Y/N’s thigh, hoping to ground herself as she thought about being in a relationship with the woman.

“A ‘lover,’ you are so formal you’d definitely drive me insane,” Mindy grumbled as she sat beside Tara, watching Y/N’s skillful hands on Sam’s arm.

Sam cleared her throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table, “Tara, can you go pull the car up here? I’m ready to go home once this is done.”

Taking the hint, Tara stood up from the table, dragging Mindy, who complained about ‘having to leave the pretty woman behind.’ The two quickly grabbed Chad, who was still bragging about his act of heroism to bystanders.

“I thought they would never leave,” Y/N remarked once the group was out of earshot. Sam let out a slight hum and rubbed her hand across Y/N’s thigh, but that was shortly lived as Y/N scolded her, “Don’t move your arm too much, Sam! You’ll mess up the stitches.”

She rolled her eyes but looked over her shoulder to see her pretty EMT, “you know, I miss the Y/N who would joke with me and run in the rain with me.”

Looking up at her with narrowed eyes, Y/N scoffed as she spoke, “That Y/N was in a better mood because she wasn’t having to put 15 stitches in your arm.”

Sam didn’t respond, just nodded at the woman’s words. Feeling a little bit of shame for her words, Y/N quickly placed a kiss on Sam’s open shoulder before returning to her work. Sam felt her entire body heat up as she felt Y/N’s lips on her shoulder. She wanted more of Y/N, but now was not the time or place for such tomfoolery.

“You know, you don’t have to get hurt just to see me,” Y/N said with a cheeky grin as she tied the last suture. She then took out some gauze and wrapped it around Sam’s arm.

“I know, but apparently, that’s been the only way to reach you,” Sam replied as she stood up from the table while Y/N properly put the used needle in a sharps container and disposed of the bloody bandages.

Y/N stood up from the table and placed her bag over her shoulder as she spoke, “Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” She asked with a playful smirk.

Remembering that Sam had told Y/N she knew where she worked when asked if Y/N could see her again, she mentally slapped herself. “Okay, I will admit that that might have been my fault,” Sam said with a smile as she looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes before quickly glancing down at the woman’s lips. “Would you like to come back to my place? As a way to thank you?” She asked hushedly, almost afraid someone other than Y/N might hear her.

Y/N smiled at Sam as the two began walking toward the car Tara pulled up. The pair both ignored how Tara somehow managed to bring the front right and back right tire onto the sidewalk. “I’d love to, but I have to clock out at the station and pick up my car,” Y/N said with a slight tone of disappointment before quickly speaking more enthusiastically, “but you could always send me your address, and I could drive there. But you know, that would require you to give me your phone number.”

Sam rolled her eyes at Y/N’s suggestion but pulled out her phone nonetheless. “Here, put in your phone number, and I’ll send you my address,” Sam said as she handed Y/N her phone. Her heart fluttered when she saw Y/N’s gigantic smile and the hearty eyes she sent Sam as she grabbed the phone.

Putting in her phone number, Y/N decided against putting a heart next to her name, figuring it would be too quick, and she didn’t want Sam to feel like she was pressuring her into anything. So, she simply put ‘☂️⚕️’ next to her name.

Sam smiled when she saw the emojis, especially the umbrella one, as her mind instantly went back to running in the rain with Y/N. When they reached the car, Sam gave Y/N a gentle kiss on the cheek, whispering in her ear with a playful smirk, “See you tonight.” Sam ignored the way Y/N’s face turned beet red while wearing the love-struck smile that only Sam got.

Y/N waved back at Sam as she walked away, smiling as she watched the older woman fight with her sister for the driver’s seat. Once she walked away, her phone dinged as she got a text message from an unsaved number, but she already knew it was Sam. It was an address followed by ‘Would you want to make dinner together when you get here?-Sam’. She smiled at the message before responding, ‘Of course!’.

After she sent the message, she walked over to Winston and slapped him on the back as she spoke, “All done here?”

“Yeah, I'm ready to go home and sleep,” Winston said through gritted teeth as the slap sting traveled through his back.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to go home and watch ‘Dirty Dancing’ while crying,” Y/N joked as the two began walking back towards the ambulance.

Winston quickly put his hand over his heart and sucked in a deep breath before exclaiming, “How dare you make such an outlandish accusation!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I'm talking about!” Y/N rebutted while gently pushing Winston, “I’ve seen you on the couch while violently sobbing to that movie!”

“I can assure you that was not me.”

“If you say so, Winston.”

After their playful argument, the two walked silently the rest of the way. Once they arrived at the ambulance, Winston climbed into the driver’s side while Y/N entered the passenger side. They joked back and forth as they drove to the station. Once they arrived, they both climbed out with their bags and clocked out.

“I’ll see you at home?” Winston asked as they both walked towards their cars.

“I don’t know; I’m going to a friend’s house. I’ll let you know, though,” Y/N responded as she opened her passenger-side door and pulled out a gym bag.

Winston stopped his movements, holding his car door open, “A ‘friend?’” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N turned to look at him, worried Winston might call her out on her bluff, “yeah, a friend.”

“Do I know this friend?” He asked back with a little bit of sass in his voice.

She let out a small sigh and reluctantly mumbled, “No, you do not know this friend.” She knew Winston would rip her apart for this, but she didn’t care.

But to her surprise, Winston just nodded before speaking in a southern accent, “Be careful? Ya hear? Too many people getting hurt these days!”

She let out a small chuckle at his words but knew that he meant well. “of course, Winston. I’ll text you when I get there,” she said as she saluted him.

Once Winston left in his car, Y/N walked into the shower room and turned one on. She’d hated arriving at Sam’s house smelling bad; she wanted to make a good impression on her, even though they’d already known each other for a week. This would be their first time hanging out with each other at a house, and she didn’t want to disappoint.

She opened her gym bag, placed her shampoo and conditioner on the shower floor, and then sat out her clothes and towel on the bench outside the shower. She quickly stepped into the shower, basking in the shower's warmth.

However, her mind was quickly filled up with thoughts about Sam. She was eager to spend the rest of the night with her, even if her sister and friends were over. She wanted to kiss her lips and call Sam hers, but she prayed it would be just them together.

——————————————————————————

When Sam saw Y/N wave at her, her heart doubled in size. She was going to wave back but was distracted when Tara bit her hand.

“Ouch! You little fucker,” Sam exclaimed as she drew her hand back.

“I am not giving up the driver’s seat!” Tara retorted while glaring at Sam. Sam looked in the back seat, hoping to get some support from the Meeks-Martin twins, but both gave Sam a look that said, ‘This woman is crazy; we aren’t arguing with her.’

Not wanting to argue with her sister, Sam sighed as she walked around the car and entered the passenger side. “Aww, I love you too, Sam,” Tara said once Sam got in and buckled up.

“Whatever, just make sure you don’t kill us,” Sam replied as Tara put the car in drive and drove off the sidewalk. Tara wanted to say something when all three passengers grabbed the ‘oh shit’ handle but decided against it.

Once she felt safe with Tara’s driving, Sam pulled out her phone and sent Y/N a text. She smiled when she got a reply within a minute. As she typed out another response, Tara turned down the wrong road, “Tara, you went the wrong way.” Sam stated as she looked around the car.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, but I’m going to Mindy’s house for a girls' night. Would you like to come with me?” Tara asked as she slammed on her brakes, almost running a red light.

Trying to recover from whiplash, Sam responded, “No, that’s okay. I think I might have someone over.”

Someone could hear a hairpin drop in the silence of the car. No one said anything, afraid Sam would say she was joking if they did. “You’re joking. Right?” Mindy questioned, breaking the silence.

Sam turned towards her left so she could look into the back of the car, “No, I’m not. Why are you surprised by that?”

Mindy looked at Chad for help, but he just glared out the window, not wanting to get in trouble with Sam. “Mindy, what do you mean?” Sam pressed on, clearly upset by the woman’s question.

“She’s just surprised that you are inviting people over; that’s all,” Tara said as she kept her eyes on the road. Sam turned back around and looked out of the windshield. She crossed her arms and had a slight frown on her face, clearly not enjoying this conversation.

“It’s not like that. She's just a friend,” Sam defended with an annoyed tone.

Tara was going to ask Sam what she meant by ‘she’s just a friend,” but Chad interrupted her, “I love that song.” He smirked and received a low five from Mindy and Tara, the rest of the group picking up the meaning as Sam scoffed and looked out the window.

When Tara arrived at Mindy’s place, everyone got out of the car, “Girl’s Night also includes you, Chad?” Sam questioned as she walked around to the driver’s side.

He just shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing else for me to do. Unless,” a smirk appeared instantly on his face, “you want me to come over to your place and hang out with you and your lo-“

“Absolutely not.” Sam cut him off as she opened the door, “Be safe, you three.”

The three smiled at Sam and waved as the woman drove off in her car.

“Come on, let’s get girl’s night started!” Chad said eagerly. He wasn’t much for doing the activities Tara and Mindy did, but he enjoyed being in their company and listening to their discussions. It also gave him a reason to drink, but he wouldn’t tell them that.

Sam drove back to her shared apartment in silence; she could only hear her fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Her mind was filled with excitement; she had the apartment to herself and would take advantage of that. It had been too long since she kissed Y/N, and she needed just that after tonight’s events.

It was a typical night with the core four at the Carpenter’s apartment, but Sam felt like taking the group somewhere. So, they all piled into Sam’s car and went to Dave & Buster's. They all had a fantastic time; Mindy destroyed Chad in air hockey while Tara walked around and blocked little kids who were just trying to enjoy Super Shot. Sam tried her best to keep Tara out of fights with eight-year-olds.

They enjoyed a nice dinner along with some laughs. The night was one of the best since the move from Woodsboro, and they all forgot about their tragic past for a few moments.

But everything must come to an end, and as they were walking out, they ran into the same group of girls that terrorized Sam a week ago. At first, they didn’t say anything to Sam; they just glared at her as she left the restaurant. They were all standing outside, as they had a thirty-minute wait, and they had nothing better to do, so they just glared. Sam didn’t notice them, but she felt the hair on her neck stand up and subconsciously pulled Tara into her side. Tara looked around as she felt Sam’s arm wrap around her, automatically putting her on alert. Tara’s eyes quickly landed on the group of girls, “over there, by the Target,” Tara whispered to Sam.

Sam’s eyes darted to the Target, and sure enough, a group of girls stared down at Sam. “Come on, you guys, let’s go home,” Sam said to her group while holding Tara close to her side. Mindy and Chad both shared a look before quickly following behind the Carpenters.

The girls quickly started to follow them, and one called out, “Watch out, you three! She’ll get you!” Another girl shouted, “Murderer!”

“Come on, let’s just make it back to the car,” Sam said as she quickened her pace but abruptly stopped when Tara stopped walking. Tara quickly pulled out of Sam’s arms and marched towards the girls, ignoring Sam’s pleas to stop.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Tara demanded as she pushed the girl who called Sam a murderer.

She scoffed at Tara, “I don’t have a problem, I’m just trying to keep you safe,” she spoke in a fake worried voice as she looked behind Tara at Sam. Sam quickly grabbed Tara’s arm and whispered out a ‘let’s go,’ but Tara shrugged her off.

Tara approached the girl, causing her to look up at her, “She is the furthest thing from a murderer, you incompetent asshole.”

The girl pushed Tara and went to yell at her, but her words quickly died in her throat when a fist collided with her face. “Stay away from us,” Tara said as she grabbed her hand, not expecting it to hurt as much as it did.

When they started to walk away, the girl who was hit pulled out a small pocket knife and charged at Tara, slashing at the more petite girl. Sam heard the footsteps and quickly pulled Tara out of the way, but not in enough time to save herself, as the knife cut Sam’s arm.

Realizing the dangerous situation, Chad quickly wrapped his arms around the girl with the knife, holding her back from the sisters. The girl kicked and screamed as Mindy took the knife from her hand. A few bystanders intervened as well and called the police and an ambulance.

It was not the ideal way to start the night, but now Sam had the opportunity to make up for the stressful evening, and she would do just that. As she stepped out of her car, she googled ‘romantic meals for two’ and made her way back to her apartment.

Once inside, she grabbed some clean clothes and entered her bedroom bathroom. She turned on the shower and placed her clothes on the sink as she got out some saran wrap and wrapped it around her bandaged arm. When she finished wrapping her arm, she checked the water temperature and undressed once she deemed it warm enough. She sent Y/N a quick text before stepping into the shower and washing off the blood stuck to her skin. She quickly washed the rest of her body and hair, then stepped out of the shower and dressed.

She brushed and dried her hair with a towel after getting dressed. Once done, Sam returned to the living room with her phone and turned on the tv as she prepared the ingredients for the meal, patiently waiting for her Y/N to arrive.

——————————————————————————

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts when her phone dinged with a text message. She wondered how much time she had spent in the shower as she turned it off and dried off. She dressed and put her dirty work clothes, towel back into her bag, and shampoo and conditioner. She then grabbed her phone and checked the text message.

Sammy 🌂❤️‍🩹: I just got home. You can come over whenever ;)

Y/N smiled at the message; she couldn’t control the blush that crept up her neck and how her heart fluttered at the winky smile.

Y/N ☂️⚕️: sounds good. I’ll be over in 10 ;)

She then grabbed her bag and made her way out to her car. She started her car and backed out onto the road as her phone connected to the speakers; the lovely voice of Hozier filled the air.

When she arrived at the apartment doors, she parked and sent Sam a message, telling her she was heading up. And as she promised, she also sent Winston a text telling him that she had made it. As she climbed up the stairs to Sam’s apartment, she let out a small laugh when she saw that Winston had responded with a picture of himself crying while Dirty Dancing could be seen on TV. She sent him back an ‘I told you’ then shut off her phone as she knocked on Sam’s door.

When the door opened, Y/N lost her breath. Sam stood before her with a baggy Mötley Crüe shirt and low-cut shorts. It wasn’t a remarkable outfit, but she still looked breathtaking. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and Y/N’s mind instantly became rated R.

Sam smiled at Y/N, then grabbed Y/N’s right hand with her left and grabbed her neck with her right. Y/N didn’t even have enough time to say ‘hello’ before Sam pulled her into her body and connected their lips. Time seemed to freeze for the two; their lips seemed to be the only things moving. The kiss was gentle and tender, filled with all the emotions they held for each other. Y/N sighed into the kiss and placed Sam’s right hand on her waist before moving her hands to cup Sam’s cheeks, deepening the kiss.

Sam felt her heart soar when Y/N cupped her face. She was ready to take things to another level, but not right here in the doorway. She placed one final kiss on Y/N’s lips before pulling back. “Hi,” Sam husked out with swollen lips and blown irises.

“Hi,” Y/N replied as she swiped her thumb across Sam’s bottom lip; her eyes never seemed to leave them. Sam felt her knees weaken at Y/N’s action but pulled Y/N into the house by her hand. “Come on, let’s get started on dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N said as she followed her like a lost puppy. She followed Sam into the kitchen, where several different ingredients were laid out before them: butter, lemon zest, lemon juice, cloves of garlic, salt, and pepper, some salmon fillets, six russet potatoes, M5 spice rub, and a little bit of chopped parsley.

“You seriously weren’t lying about this dinner thing,” Y/N stated as she looked around the kitchen.

Panic immediately settled in Sam’s bones, afraid she might have overdone it, terrified that she was trying too hard and she might push Y/N away. “Yeah, I’m sorry if it’s a bit much. We can order pizza if you like or do something completely different. We don’t even need to have dinner, just a nice night,” Sam rambled on as Y/N approached her and grabbed her hands, intertwining their fingers.

“I love it, Sam. Thank you for this. I haven’t had a homecooked meal in a long time, and I would love to enjoy dinner with you,” Y/N said in that gentle, loving tone that Sam loved to hear. It was as if angels were talking for Y/N.

Sam nodded, worried that her voice might break if she spoke. No one had ever been this gentle with her, and she loved it and hated it at the same time. She loved having someone who treated her like an actual person, but she was terrified that Y/N would hurt her in the end. But all her thoughts disappeared when she saw Y/N smile at her, that smile reserved just for Sam.

Y/N let go of Sam’s head and kissed her cheek before walking back to the table, “Alright, Sam, how do we do this?” She questioned while gesturing to the ingredients. Sam pulled up her phone and read over the directions. “Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Once they started the meal together, they enjoyed being in each other presence. When Sam was seasoning the salmon with salt, pepper, and butter, Y/N walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around Sam, giving her a back hug as she occasionally kissed her neck. When Y/N was slicing a potato crosswise, Sam did the same thing Y/N did, except she just rested her head on Y/N’s back–she couldn’t reach Y/N’s neck because of the height difference–and would place gentle kisses on her shoulder blades.

While Sam worked on the salmon, Y/N sliced the potatoes. They cooked in comfortable silence like they had been doing this for years. And their meal was complete within the hour: butter-baked salmon with Hasselback potatoes. Y/N made each of them a place as Sam grabbed a bottle of wine and poured each a glass.

They sat at the kitchen table opposite each other. They ate and drank together while talking about their day and what happened since they last saw each other. Once they had finished their meal, they cleaned up their mess.

While they were washing the plates side by side, Sam couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore, “Earlier, when you were stitching up my arm, you said you had a lover. What was that about?”

When the question had left Sam’s lips, Y/N automatically tensed up. Her heartbeat picked up, and her palms began to sweat. What if it had made Sam she said that? What if Sam only viewed her as her ‘long-term, long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend? When she said that Sam was her lover, it flew off of her tongue, like her one purpose in life was to be Sam’s lover, in sickness and health, in life and death.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable; I shouldn’t have assumed anything between us, and it was wrong of me to try and force you into that. I just spoke without thinking, and I’m so sorry if I ruined anything betw-” Sam’s lips quickly cut her off. The kiss was short and sweet, but it carried all the words for Sam which she could not form into sentences yet.

She pulled back from Y/N as she spoke, “I didn’t mind it, Y/N. In fact, I loved it, and I would like to be your girlfriend if you’ll have me.”

Y/N smiled down at Sam before gently kissing Sam’s lips as she rested her forehead against Sam’s, “I want you to be my girlfriend, Sam. More than anything I have ever wanted.”

Sam smiled at Y/N’s words and pulled back from her. She walked over to the fridge and pulled out a six-pack of Seagrams. “Well, let’s enjoy our first movie night as a couple,” Sam said as she walked into the living room, Y/N quick on her heels.

The two decided to watch La La Land as Sam sat with her legs in Y/N’s lap while Y/N rubbed her hand up and down Sam’s thigh. “No, Sam. Trust me, this movie will destroy you. You will never be the same,” Y/N stated while the first scene played out.

Sam rolled her eyes at her now-girlfriend’s words, “I highly doubt that,” as she finished her beer and grabbed another one off the coffee table. The couple were both more than tipsy but not yet drunk. Y/N already had flushed cheeks, but her skin got even warmer when Sam’s shirt lifted up as she grabbed herself a beverage. Y/N saw her defined abs and wanted to rip off Sam’s shirt more than anything.

When Sam sat back on the couch, Y/N’s lips were on hers instantly. The kisses were sloppy and needy as Y/N ran her hands underneath Sam’s shirt, pulling a moan from the woman. Their lips were capturing each other, and nothing seemed to keep them away. Sam’s lips slowly left Y/N’s as they traveled down her jawline and onto her neck. Soft moans escaped Y/N’s lips as Sam placed hungry kisses on her neck before gently sucking on a weak spot, pulling a louder moan from the woman.

When Sam finally had enough, she quickly pulled back and practically ripped Y/N’s shirt off her, throwing it across the room. She then pushed Y/N down onto the couch and continued placing kisses on Y/N’s neck before finally kissing her lips again.

Unbeknownst to them, the door shot open as Tara quickly walked into the room, “Hey, Sam! I’m here to pick up some-what the fuck?!” She stopped in her tracks as she saw Sam on top of someone.

The two quickly pulled apart as they heard Tara’s voice. Their eyes were full of lust, and their lips were swollen. Mindy stormed into the room when she heard Tara yell but was just as confused. “Aren’t you that EMT from earlier?” Mindy questioned with her arms crossed, a little upset she wasn’t in Sam’s current position.

Sam quickly threw a blanket on Y/N that was on the back of the couch, trying her best to cover up the girl. She turned around on the couch to face the two women. She was getting ready to speak but had no way to explain this. Y/n leaned up on the sofa and instantly felt shame and embarrassment.

Tara cleared her throat before speaking in a playful tone, “Well, you two certainly look busy. I’ll just borrow some of Mindy’s clothes.” She walked back towards the door but quickly turned around and pulled Mindy with her. At the door, Tara turned around and said with a wink, “Not a bad catch, Sam. She’s hot.”

“Have fun, gay people!” Mindy exclaimed as Tara dragged her out of the door.

Once the door was shut, Sam looked around the apartment, afraid that someone else might have snuck in without her knowing, and was waiting for the perfect time to embarrass her. She was only pulled back into reality when Y/N said, “I can leave if you want me to, Sam.”

Sam laughed at Y/N’s words, “Do you want to leave?” She questioned with a playful smirk on her swollen lips.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then stay here,” Sam said as she pulled Y/N back into a kiss. The only things that could be heard in the apartment were the kissing of lips and the soft playing of ‘Mia & Sebastian’s theme.’

AN: you guys should definitely watch ‘La La Land’ with Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone if you need a good movie to cry to.

Idea came from here

Taglist: @karsonromanoff

[babyflorencee]

You're stuck with me

Regulus Black x fem!Reader

"I just don't understand why you're so upset over this," I said, with a confused expression.

"Y/n, how can you be so stupid? That guy was hitting on you harder than a hammer to a nail, and he was so damn obvious about it!" Regulus yelled, roughly running his hand through his Brown locks.

This had been going on for around 2 hours. All the yelling, screaming, and insults that were being spat at each other, just to prove a point, that neither of us was able to get across.

Why was Regulus so mad, you might ask? Well, he's mad because some guy at a diner asked for my phone number, and was just overall hitting on me the whole night, even though he was well aware that I was with Reggie. However, if it wasn't for Regulus' trust issues and lack of self-control, maybe we wouldn't have left the guy limp on the floor with a bullet between his eyes. "What? Am I not good enough for you so you have to go out and seek attention from other people!" he yelled, face red with anger.

Regulus has always been insecure about our relationship. He thought I deserved better, so when he said that, my heart immediately broke. However, I was still mad at him.

"Trust me babe, you're more than enough! But that's not what the problem is!" I yelled back, getting more and more annoyed with him.

"Then please, enlighten me with what the problem is!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air like a madman.

"You want to know what the problem is? You're way too clingy, and you're jealous ALL the damn time. Like I get, I'm yours and only yours! Reg, we are literally engaged. I'm not going anywhere, so why the fuck can't you get that through that thick head of yours?" I yelled back, not thinking about what I was saying. However, what I said hurt him, and he wasn't about to let that comment slide.

"Jealous? Well, excuse me for not being content with the idea of another man's hands all over that body of yours. You know, the body that's mine, and only mine to see and touch!" The whole fight was pointless; we both knew this, but neither of us wanted to back down.

Regulus and I have been in a relationship for a little over 3 years. We very clearly loved each other with all our hearts. We have only fought four times in our entire relationship, but this fight was different, but in the worst way possible. The intrusive thought of Reggie and me breaking up started to seem less crazy.

"Listen, I don't like sharing. I never have, and I absolutely refuse to share you. I don't want to fight about this anymore. It's silly. Can we just agree to disagree that the whole thing is that guy's fault?" He said, as he opened his arms out for me, with a hopeful expression.

I didn't respond. I just walked over towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Regulus immediately starts burying his head into my neck, holding onto me as if I was going to disappear any minute. Once we pulled away, he refused to look at me, instead; he looked at the floor. "Can we cuddle?" He asked, his voice so quiet I could barely make out what he said.

"Of course," I took his hand in mine, smiling up at him.

Once we got to mine and Regulus' bedroom, I was immediately pulled on the bed, being crushed by Regulus' weight. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, I knew something was on his mind. "Hey Reg, what's wrong?" I asked, already having an idea of what he was going to say.

He sighed, rolling off of me so that he was on his side of the bed. "I hate fighting with you," he said, his voice breaking.

I pulled him into a tight hug, wishing that the fight had never happened. "I was scared, for a minute there, that we were going to break up," he mumbled, into my shoulder.

"Never in a million years," I whispered into his ear, entangling my hand into his hair.

"You're stuck with me," I said, laughing a little.

We lay back down, grasping onto each other as if our lives depended on it. "I'm glad that's over," Reg said, placing a kiss on my cheek, yawning.

"Night love," I said, rubbing his lower back until I eventually fell asleep.

[semicolonsspace]

Consider Fake! Dating me, Stiles

There's a list going around at the school beacon hills. The hottest girls from every last girl that attended. No one got left out. And Y/n was number one.

TW: Dom! Stiles, Sub! Reader, Teasing, Voyeurism, Dacryphilia/ whimpers(sorrynotsorry), road head, blowjob, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, p n v, cum-eating?(is that cum play idk) praise kink, degradation kink, a lot of dirty talk, mention of round 2/Shower sex.

When Stiles found this out, he was pissed. He has had a crush on her for the longest time. And now that he had competition? You better bet your shit he was trying to flirt with her more. Y/n knew about the list, and she knew about him liking her from the rumors that she heard. She didn't know if it was true though, so she didn't act upon them. She didn't want to ruin their friendship.

Y/n was a siren so it only made sense for everyone to be attracted to her. But the only one she truly wanted was Stiles. Just like he had wanted her for years... Even before he found out she was a siren...

Y/n walks through the halls, getting stares as she walks. She smiles and flips the people off. She didn't care about no damn list. She came to school for education, not to be the prettiest. Okay, maybe a little to be pretty... But not the stares- She dressed how she wanted and talked how she wanted. I guess the boys found that attractive...

Fortunately, some weren't guys. She felt flattered that the girls liked her more than the boys. She was happy that the girls liked her. Sometimes even giving them attention to make them blush. She would blow the known lesbians' kisses to fool around. They knew she was joking around but she in a way wasn't. Y/n didn't have a label on her sexuality...

She finds Stiles and Scott at their locker, poking their sides to get them riled up. They both hated it when she did this, but she's done this since she could remember.

"Quit it, Y/n/n," Stiles yelps, almost comically falling and dropping his bag. Scott laughs at his friend, his famous smile now on his face.

Y/n picks up Stiles' bag and hoists him back to his feet. "Ahh, I love it when you fall for me, it makes me feel so good," Y/n jokingly says in a rich voice. Stiles looked away to cover his blush but she saw. She pinches his cheek and ruffles his hair.

Scott sighs at his friends. "Come on love birds, Lacrosse practice starts in 20."

Y/n rolls her eyes playfully and links her arms with her two childhood best friends. As she walks with them, Stiles interlocks his fingers with hers. She lets him, not thinking anything of it. A few boys eyed him, stuffing out their chests to make them look bigger than they actually were. Y/n winks at them before kissing Stiles' arm. He stiffens and she giggles, All while this happens Scott is smirking at the two. He had noticed for a while that she liked getting the boys riled up; He also knew that she didn't really care about her reputation, being mean to any person who even tried to come in contact with her. Especially Greenburg.

Once they get to the locker room, she pulls Stiles back so she can talk to him. "I have a plan," Y/n starts. He nods, his mouth parting to speak. She cuts him off with he finger pressed against his lips. "I'm tired of the people- I'm tired of them trying to ask me out. Please consider fake dating me- because you're the only person I trust-" Stiles cuts her off with a hug and a kiss on her forehead. He whispers into her ear. "Greenburg 6 o' clock," he whispers so only she would hear. His breath makes her shudder, a chill traveling to her knees causing them to go weak.

"I guess that's a yes," Y/n laughs weakly. He only responds with a tighter hug and a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course, Honey," Stiles said. Greenburg turned and made a look at Stiles before walking into the locker room. Stiles then whispers, "Oh, he's pissed, Y/n."

Y/n smiles wider than she's had for weeks. She kisses his nose and pushes him into the locker room, "I'll see you on the field, babe!" Y/n yells. Stiles blushes hard at the nickname. This was going to be harder than he thought... But it's so worth it-

--

Stiles ran around on the field, dodging through people. He was trying his hardest to get a score. It was only a practice game, but with Y/n cheering his name he had to play like his life depended on it.

Y/n sat next to Isaac as he was benched for a bit for shouldering someone so hard they backflipped onto the ground. She had Stiles' water bottle holding it for him when he came back to get a drink.

"Are you dating Stiles?" A voice asks bringing out of her thoughts. It was Isaac. She nods, smiling with a big blush. Her hands fumbled with the plastic bottle in her hands, avoiding his eye contact so he couldn't detect the lie.

"We just made it official today, but I've liked him since I met him," Y/n says kicking her feet against the grass. She somewhat tells the truth so it wouldn't be a whole lie. Hopefully, he falls for it... Isaac follows her legs and smiles at her. Thank the universe...

"Congrats, Y/n... I'm happy for you, Not for Stiles though, he's a dick," Isaac laughs. Just then a sweaty out-of-breath Stiles hugged Y/n with a big slobbery kiss on her cheek.

"She's mine, you Dog," Stiles groans. Isaac rolls his eyes and looks to the field.

"Ahh- Gross Stiles!" Y/n screeches. She wipes his slobber off and he pouts. "You erased my Love!" He kissed her again in the same spot and she couldn't help but laugh. "Better," He says with a quirky smile. He grabs the bottle from her hands and squirts the Gatorade into his mouth.

-

That was one of the few instances to show that they were dating. One of them was when she was in the hallway and a boy, whom she never noticed, came up to her and asked her out on a date. Stiles being Stiles walks up to her and hugs her from behind, kisses her neck, and flips the boy off. "Sorry, not sorry!" They both yell after the boy. They laugh as they said it sync, also because the boy looked so defeated.

"I love this," Stiles mumbles swaying while hugging from behind. He leaves another kiss on her neck. His hands travel her body, resting on her thighs and squeezing them.

Over the few weeks of them fake dating he had gotten more confidant. They had never kissed yet, but they had gotten close numerous times. And he wanted to, hell- even she wanted to. She wanted to kiss him in front of everyone, not caring what anyone said. Maybe she could? Would he let her?

"Being my boyfriend or making people jealous?" Y/n asks while giggling.

"Mmm," Stiles says before leaving another kiss under her ear. "Both," he whispers, taking another step toward her. His hips position to rest against her ass, his hard-on grazing her ass just the tiniest bit. Y/n's breath gets caught when she feels how much he likes it. Her eyes go wide and she breaks free from his hold, giving him a kiss on the cheek for the bystanders.

Don't get her wrong, she didn't hate the fact that he liked it- She even liked it...But she didn't expect him to like the plan this much... Now she's been friends with him since they were little! They showered together and even had sleepovers when they were young. They were as close as they could be. They teased each other about sexual interest but never have they directed their sexual stuff toward one other. That was until his boner pressed against her ass. She now made it her plan to tease him.

"I'll see you after school, baby," She yells, keeping it short.

She runs to the bathroom as quickly as possible, staring at herself in the mirror in distress. "Okay, maybe he would let me," Y/n jokes referring to the kiss under her ear. It wasn't better than being flirted with by everyone, she'd rather be flirted with by her now horny crush-

--

Over the next few days, they had gotten more confident with touching each other. She smacked his ass in the hallway a few times making him yelp and Scott- and many others- stare at her in shock. This time was the same.

She struts her way to Stiles, smacking his ass and then hugging him from behind. "Hey, sexy," Y/n whispers. His breath was caught in his throat.

"Hey, Angel," Stiles laughs. His voice was low, more like a breathy laugh. He continues to talk to Scott about something with a case he was helping his dad with. Scott eyes Y/n but goes back to paying attention to Stiles.

Y/n hands travel lower to around his sweatpants pockets. She stuffs her hands inside and kisses his neck to catch him off guard. His hands enter his pockets as well, you know men's pockets. He interlocks his fingers with her and she chuckles. She noticed that he loved doing that, interlocking his fingers with hers.

Her right hand then leaves his pockets and slithers under his shirt and he stops midsentence. He slowly looks down and eyes Scott to silently ask for help. Scott then asks a question about the case, and Stiles couldn't help but answer. His answer was breathy, but he got his point across.

She could feel his hard-on now pressing against her wrist that was still in his pocket. Y/n licks his neck discreetly and he cuts himself off with a breathy whimper. This causes Scott to stare at the two.

"Do you guys want some privacy? Because I'm pretty sure the hallway isn't private," Scott sarcastically says. Stiles shoves Scott's shoulder and Scott just laughs.

"Let 'em stare," Y/n says with a montoned face. Her finger grazes against his cock as she removes her hand from his. "Oops, sorry, baby."

"It's fine," Stiles groans. He grabs her, placing her in front of him. Scott and Y/n laugh at Stiles as they walk to the cafeteria for lunch. "Shut up," Stiles says in a small voice. Both Scott and Y/n could smell his arousal. Arousal was one of the few human emotions she could sense... only because she was a siren. "Do you guys want to sit outside today?" Stiles asks trying to get the attention off of him.

Soon the three were outside on the benches. Stiles quite literally dragged them outside. He then places Y/n on her lap, telling her that it's her fault so it's her problem to hide.

"I thought you were going to say something else and I might have slapped you if you did," Y/n laughs with relief.

Stiles' eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. "No, never- But I'll deal with it later," he winks.

"Guys! In front of my burger?" Scott whines. His hands throw up into the air, causing the situation more dramatic than it should have. The fake couple laughs at their friend who is now the third wheel. Scott didn't know about them fake dating, he just thought they were actually dating. He didn't put too much thought into it because they always acted like this... just now they pulled the dial up a bit...

-

Later that day Stiles and Y/n were in the library studying. They were still extremely touchy, and it was driving her insane. Not that she would argue- She could feel his touches minutes after it happened, it lingered on her skin like a sticky lotion. And to think it started as a harmless plan that would help her escape attention. But now she wanted his attention- more than anything.

Y/n was in the library studying. Stiles had his hand on her thigh and she couldn't think properly because of it. She gave up on concentrating a bit ago and pushed her stuff away. Her head was lying on the table, her hands digging into the table to escape from reality. It didn't work because he pulled her to his chest and she let out a noise. A fucking whimper.

"What's wrong, princess?" He whispers in a worried voice. He knew what he was doing to her. He could feel the sexual tension. He bathed in it every time they'd hang out. Y/n had to keep refusing to hang out with him alone because of it. She would only hang out with him when another pack member was around. And damn did he take notice of it. She says the same thing when he asks. That she was busy helping her father around the house. He told her that he believed her, only because she had been renovating the house for a while.

"Get your hand- off my thigh, please," Y/n whimpers. He does move it, just not the way she asked for it. He slides it higher, a smirk on his face.

"What's wrong with my hand? I wanna touch my girlfriend," Stiles says simply. He said it so innocently, making her groan internally. Y/n snaps her face toward his, examining his smug face. She squints at him, growling while placing her hand on his inner thigh as well. His eyes went wide and now he was the one that is a blushing mess. "F-fuck," he moans silently, sounding a tad bit like a whimper. She hasn't even touched his cock yet and he feels like he's about to bust.

"Are you sure you want to go through this, Princess?" Stiles whispers, making her shudder to the bone. Her innocent eyes looked up into his. She smiles at him, teasing her head slightly as a way of teasing him. "Sir, You're the one who started it."

Stiles takes a deep breath. He could feel his blood rushing to his cock. He sighs and gathers his stuff into his bag, gathering hers as well and hoisting them over his shoulder. "Where do you think we're going? We have 20 minutes left," Y/n laughs, a little smugness in her voice. He snatches her wrist, pulling her with him. "Should have thought of that before you called me that, Baby."

Her knees go weak- literally. He has to come back for her and guide her hips through the doors to lead her to his jeep. "Fuck- all weak for me already," He groans low into her ear. Her stomach flips when he says this. "Be patient, dollface." She hurries into his jeep, wanting to get his hands on her body as soon as possible. He opens the door for her and then runs to the driver's seat.

The ride was silent, Stiles' hand on her thigh close to her heat. He feels the warmth, and he restrains himself, knowing he will get to it when he gets to his house. She wiggles her hips a bit and he glances at her. She sat biting her lip watching him drive. His hand on the steering wheel was white-knuckling. She leans toward him- more specifically toward his waist. "Would you be mad if I sucked you in here?"

"Would I be mad if you- no I wouldn't be-" Y/n cuts him off by untying his sweats. "Oh, fuck-" He moans as the jeep swerves.

"Focus on the fucking road, Stiles," Y/n demands.

"Yes, Ma'am," Stiles squeaks. She could hear the smirk, she didn't have to see it. He situates his hips, his hard-on being shoved in her face.

She laughs and pulls him out. She admires his length for a bit. It was bigger and better than she thought it would be. It looked like he groomed his pubes, they were nice and curly at the end of his shaft- like he had a routine for it. She licked from the bottom to his tip. He twitches when her tongue comes in contact with his tip. She kisses it, her tongue then sliding along the slit. "Fuck, Princess."

She spits onto her hand a few times, wanting as much lubrication as she could get. She then sucks him, her hand twisting at the bottom of shift what she couldn't fit in her mouth. She loves this. She wanted to do this for years. She wanted to use him as a pacifier when she was upset, and now she finally could. All because she was on the top of the most attractive list at Beacon Hills.

Y/n hums on his cock, the vibration going through him. He swerves a bit, trying his best to keep his eyes open to focus on the road. But her mouth felt so well- This was the first sexual act they'd had- how in the world would they top this? Now he really felt like he could bust at any moment. His hips twitched, thrusting a bit into her mouth. His tip hits the back of her throat and she gags. "That hurt," she pouts.

"Shh, baby, you can take it," He groans as his hand pats her hair. Y/n moaned at the sound of his voice. All of a sudden the car stops. "As much as I love that slutty mouth of yours, I want you spread out for me on my bed," He moans graciously.

Y/n gets out of the car quickly. In a flash, she was by his door opening it for him. He was shoving his dick back into his pants. Y/n pulls him out by the collar of his shirt, shutting the car door behind him as he is dragged to his house. Luckily there was no other car there, meaning that Noah was at work. "For once, I'm glad that Noah isn't here," she sighed.

"Same," Siles agrees. He then twirls her around to face him, picking her up by the thighs. He enters the house, kicking the door behind him, and carries her to his room. He throws her on her bed, shredding himself from his flannel. Then he pulls her to the edge, his face so close to his. "Can I kiss you now? I've been holding back since you asked me to be your fake boyfriend..." Stiles says, his voice so low it makes her wetter.

She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him in. In a yelp he kisses back, his mouth exploring hers. Gosh... He tasted better than she ever would have thought. She could even taste the gum he had in earlier that day.

Y/n was the first to release the kiss, sliding down onto her knees. She quickly pulls his length out, faster than he could recollect. His pants fall to his ankles, along with his boxers. She leaves a kiss on his dick that was dripping precum from how hard it was. "Gosh," He moans as his head falls back. "Just like that, Angel."

Her pussy flutters at the praise. Never would have she thought that she liked praise so much. Nor would she ever thought she would have sucked her crush-of-13-years' dick. The rhythm of her bopping was slow. It had him gripping her hair, his hand going along with the movement as she did so.

"Fuckin' Love your cock, Sti-"

"Less talking more sucking," Stiles demands. She obeys, going back to sucking his girth. Her rhythm was a bit quicker as she sucked harder on him. She stares into his eyes and he moans loudly in response. She was caught off guard at something warm hitting the back of her throat. "Fuck- Princess..." he moans, sounding like a breathy whimper. "Your mouth is amazing- Come here," He pulls her up. She still hadn't swallowed his cum so he was surprised at the thick liquid on her tongue. "My dirty girl- Tricked me into tasting my cum," Stiles growls. "Strip for me," He takes a step back, pulling his own shirt off and watching her obey.

All while she strips she stares into his eyes, multiplying the sexual tension by a hundred. "You're under my lure, baby. You realize you're going to want to fuck me every time you kiss me, don't you?" Y/n purrs. Stiles pushes her down, his hand holding her waist down as he opens her legs. His face was in front of her panties-covered cunt.

"Oh, darling... I want to fuck you regardless..." He tugs on the hem of her underwear. She nods and he pulls it off.

"Get used to it being amplified, Honey. You're stuck with me..."

He leaves a long lick on her clit, the flat of his tongue grazing against the bundle of nerves. His needy hands massage her thick thighs. It oddly comforted her. He hums in response, sending the vibrations through her delicious cunt. "My Stiles," She moans, her hands gripping his hair. He winks at her, silently approving her words.

Her eyes could barely stay open. The pleasure was just too much for her. He smacks the side of her thigh lightly, making her eyes snap open. "Eyes on me, pretty girl." His tongue goes back to her clit, his lips occasionally sucking on it.

"Mmgh- Stiles- I'm-"

His fingers were at her entrance. They teased her before dipping into her. Her head falls back into a scream, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck her with more fingers. He was one step ahead of her, adding another finger. The stretch was perfect for her, his long thick fingers were way better than her fingers could ever reach.

Before she could even finish he pulled off of her. He kisses her hard and fast. It was sensual, but everything but sweet. It was needy, demanding more of what she gave him so easily. He needed her, and he needed her more. And he needed all of her.

His dick was so painfully hard it was throbbing. He noticed- but he did not care. He wanted to savor this moment. He wanted to remember every small detail so he could use it when he was alone at the dusk of night.

His face now hovers over her cunt that was spread out for him. He places her legs over her shoulder, now hovering over. "Saw this position in a video once," He murmurs.

"Yeah? Maybe we can watch some videos together sometime... and practice the positions."

Stiles' eyes widen, his breath caught in the wind. He gulps, "Yeah-Yeah- of course, we can. But for now I really want to feel you, Angel," he begs. His cock was already pressed against her entrance. She nodded, tapping his bicep so he could get the point.

"Just fuck me already, Sti, stop being gentle-AH," She was cut off with his dick shoving into her. She was already a moaning mess and he wasn't even moving, allowing her to adjust to his big size. She grinds her hips against him, trying to get some type of friction.

"If I move now, it's gonna hurt, angel."

"I don't care, just move," She whines. He moves at an agonizingly slow pace, wanting to be his usual self and tease her.

"Stiles," she laughs. "Stop being a fucking smartass." At that, his thrusts were almost brutal. There was a slight pain, but it was mostly pleasure.

"Don't call me that when I can split you in two, baby," Stiles moans. His cock moves fast inside her, hitting every spot that made her feel like she was soaring through space amongst the stars. "Such a fuckin' dirty girl... All spread out for her fake boyfriend... Teasing all the other boys what they could never have... Only I can have you... Only me, baby, just me." His dirty words were mostly for himself, but she didn't argue. It was the hottest thing he'd ever said yet.

Y/n screams for him, her hands gripping onto something- which happened to be her thighs that were pressed against her chest. "I'm gonna-"

Stiles cuts her off with a loud growl. "Don't you fucking dare!" He kisses her neck hard, leaving a mark. It was hard for her to hold back, her nails digging into her thighs. "Tell me you're my girlfriend, baby, then you can cum," He whimpers. Y/n's vision faded with pleasure when he said this. Fuck this was so hot...

"You're fucking me and now you ask me to date you? Of course-"

Stiles once again cut her off. This time it was a kiss. Thank the universe for Y/n being flexible. But he couldn't kiss her properly so he moved her legs around his waist, his thrust continuing after he did so. "My good little girl... Love her pussy- It's my pussy now. Belongs to me-"

"Please let me-" She moves her hands to his back, her nails digging into it deliciously.

"You can cum when say what I wanted you to say," His thrusts slow a bit, becoming a tad bit sloppy. It only makes it harder for her to hold the upcoming orgasm off. She felt like she was going to explode with the utmost pleasure that she could ever experience.

"I'm your girlfriend, Stiles- I'm yours, only yours to use and to touch."

Stiles kisses her forehead. "Cum for me, baby... Be my good girl and cum."

The pleasure was too much for her. Her body shakes with the best orgasm that she's ever had. He moves into her to help her orgasm, then pulls out at the last second and releases on her stomach. "Fuck- oh my-," he moans as he finishes.

He kisses her, cupping her face and pulling her hair out of her face. "Such a beautiful girl for me." He picks her up, carrying her to the bathroom. He does something while she sits on the counter. He comes back to her with a washcloth and cleans her up. "You okay, angel?" He asks toward his orgasm-dazed girlfriend. She nods slowly and pulls him into a hug.

"Can we have shower sex?" Y/n asks in a hushed voice. He smirks and carries her to the shower, turning the water on.

"Does that answer your question?" Stiles asks before littering her back with kisses.

[allwormdiet]

Sentinel 9.1

Weld's lucky he's endearing, bc oh my god the ways he manages to step in it this arc

Bro, the city has been kaiju'd to hell, everyone who could use the airports to get out has gotten out, no money is gonna be made any time soon so business isn't happening, and nobody is dumb enough to come to Brockton Bay for pleasure right now. No shit the airport is empty. I'm more surprised that you're surprised by that.

Hey Piggot, sorry your job has gotten like a million times more stressful, hope you're hanging in there

Is robbing part of an airport profitable? That doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about airports or robbery to dispute it.

Also it's interesting to see economics and class inequality come up again, especially in the context of disaster response and response to disasters. The gap between rich and poor only gets wider in times of crisis, and the gap was already pretty fucking wide.

So, finally the PRT power classifications get laid out, having been introduced in Interlude 6 and mentioned again in 8.7. And it's mentioned explicitly as something that was used to sort out villains before eventually getting applied to heroes as well. Presumably an effort to know how to respond in case a hero goes off the rails, or maybe just trying to find more justifications to use the system. Dunno. Don't think it matters a ton in the grand scheme of things, trying to shove every power into a neat labeled box seems unproductive after a certain point.

Also yeah "Brute" is a bit of an unfortunate choice, with the additional yikes factor that they were specifically using it to describe villains at first. Like oh, don't worry about dishing out the punishment, it's a Brute after all.

I think Armsmaster would sooner chew off his other arm than retire, so there's definitely a story there

Also yeah Flechette locked in, as expected

This is the only real thing I can ding Piggot's standing for, I don't think it's hard to tell that a friendly rivalry would mean nothing in this context, so the fact that she's coming down on it for even existing feels like an overreaction. Then again, she's trying to bail out a battleship with a bucket, being humorless is hardly the worst offense in a time like this

"They weren't strictly homeless because they were squatting in abandoned commercial and industrial buildings" is certainly a perspective. When they talk about the intentions of Leviathan, it almost makes me wonder if the Docks were targeted to exacerbate things, get more people pissed and hurting and desperate. Between this, being able to target cities based off of social instability and potential media coverage, and possibly trying to eat or free Noelle, that's a lot of different factors possibly urging this attack and its behavior during said attack, and it might just be all of them at once. That's fucking freaky.

Also I think there was a mild slip-up here, calling Moist a Shifter instead of, I'm assuming, a Changer.

Shaper instead of Changer again

Interesting that Hookwolf is the head of the second Empire successor group, wonder if Krieg just didn't have the drive for leadership or got killed after the Endbringer stuff (thus not showing up on the memorial). Also mildly surprised that he's got the biggest number of parahumans.

The fact that the Pure have been rejected "for the time being" raises my hackles though, I've gotta be real. If the Protectorate/PRT actually stoop low enough to cooperate with fucking Nazis I'm gonna start feeling a lot less charitable

So three Masters is Skitter, Bitch, and Regent. I would guess that Skitter is the one they're concerned about, knowing Shadow Stalker's face, and that the other two would be who they consider possible sociopaths.

"Faultline's Crew" is a terrible name honestly. Coil and Faultline both just suck at naming teams...

Also 12 is the highest number we see here, which I guess means Labyrinth is on paper the most busted cape in the city. Good for her.

That's gotta fucking suck, never having a moment away from prying eyes whenever you're in public. How much of this is Weld being a champ and how much of this is Weld being resigned to this being his life?

That. Is rough.

So, that's something interesting. There's an interesting dichotomy between how parahumans can utterly wipe the floor against regular human combatants, even facing 25-to-1 odds with no purely defensive abilities (Grue's darkness can't stop a lucky hit) and coming out of it totally clean, and now there's this concern. We know that the early independent heroes got their shit rocked, Vikare got killed by a blow to the head during a sports riot of all things, so is there an upper limit on how many humans a parahuman can face at once? Does it hinge on how many parahumans are working together to face the threat, like could Grue only take on ten guys on his own if Skitter and Gregor and Spitfire hadn't been there to watch his back?

I'm probably overthinking this, but Piggot apparently considers it worth worrying about, so I won't dismiss the topic out of hand. Parahumans seem to end up above, below, or otherwise apart from the rest of humanity, and that separation could prove troublesome.

Gotta be strange to have your boss act like your dad, but needs must when you don't even remember who you are.

Also yeah fingers crossed Piggot holds to principles here, she doesn't seem the type but I've been disappointed before

Jesus Christ that's a really long-term plan. They've been at this since what, the late 80s?

Also interesting that the terminology uses is stated in-universe to be dated

So what's the "core" Protectorate team in this context? Is that at or above the standing that Armsmaster had before he derailed his own career? Are we talking Triumvirate level, or is there a middle ground I'm not aware of?

I also really really want to know what the meme was involving Weld, that's such a specific thing to have happen

I'm shocked that this would be considered frivolous. That's the kind of opportunity you'd normally seize with both hands, the idea of waving it off seems bizarre. Do they need the Wards too much to fight homicidal supervillains and disarm megaton bombs to let them *checks notes* get more kinds of training in? That feels shortsighted.

Then again a lot of things in Brockton Bay seem shortsighted. The greatest threat against Coil's grand scheme is his own impulsiveness (although easy money says that Taylor will become his biggest problem down the line), the Empire for some reason bothered with petty street crime and protection rackets while being run by, really cannot overstate this, the CEO of a pharmaceutical corporation that was doing well enough to have an entire skyscraper, and Lung put in like 1% of the effort he could've given to running the city. Maybe nobody is coming up with five-year plans because nobody is confident they'll live another five years, or maybe it's something in the water supply.

This is funny but it's so fucking rude, oh my God

Oh Weld, Weld no, do not think about Shadow Stalker like that, she'd corrode your dick off your body with her personality.

Oh, Weld. You have put your foot in your mouth already.

This story takes a pretty dim view of humanity, honestly. Poisoning an entire apartment block with chlorine gas just so you can loot it and take over feels extreme; I'm not gonna say it could or would never happen, unfortunately people are just as capable of evil as they are of good and there's not really a limit to how far either of those things can go, but for me at least it's somewhat curious that we don't hear more about any altruists in the city outside of the Protectorate; there would have to be good Samaritans somewhere in the mix, and not even most of them would've already been stabbed or beaten to death by opportunists.

Maybe that's just the perspective the Wards are giving us, but call me crazy, I don't think Taylor is going to be any more optimistic about how things are going.

Also, Clockblocker is jumping down Weld's throat here, but he's not strictly wrong. He's coming into this fresh-faced, having not dealt with any of the aftermath of Leviathan. The strain being put on these kids is intense, not least with the losses that the Protectorate suffered and the teammates they're still grieving. Fifteen hour patrols, Jesus Christ.

Bro got owned by a thirteen-year-old.

How did he not get briefed on the dead Wards? How did he not already look them up for himself? Someone, I think multiple someones, dropped the ball there. I'm also surprised that Weld even asked the question instead of just drawing his own conclusions or looking into it when nobody could catch him being a fool.

Current Thoughts

I do not envy Weld for the situation he's being thrown into. Whatever happens in Boston is clearly a different kind of ballgame from what they're doing here in Brockton Bay, and he has not been read into it yet.

I don't envy any of the Wards, this might be the most thankless position anyone in the city might be stuck with, and none of them are even old enough to buy cigarettes or vote, but they have to fend off looters and wade through waters tainted with death and ruin for hours at a time.

How many rights do you sign away taking this job, getting your ass put on the line like this when not even the military takes kids this young into combat? I think Skitter was right, this whole arrangement blows chunks

[ingravinoveritas]

After seeing all those stories of Georgia going shopping with David (I'm honestly surprised that David knows how to drive, I don't know why), I think David is fed up with so much video.

@electronic-chocolate @victorianlonging Okay, so...I have indeed seen all of the stories that are referenced here, and I think a couple of things can be true at the same time. But let's first get the visual up for anyone who hasn't seen it (all in one video, for ease of viewing):

The first thought that I had is how reminiscent this was of what we've seen recently, with Georgia filming David when he seemingly really doesn't want to be filmed (such as at that festival last month).

What also came to mind is something I think at least several of us thought of (if my DMs are any indication), which is that David is clearly, visibly annoyed. There's no real way to not notice it, with him looking incredulous in the car (though I did laugh when he said "I'm not dressed for this," given how adorable he looked without even realizing it), and then when she sets the tone by immediately using the word "content." There's no question that that's what the objective of this was: To have content of/with David that Georgia could post to garner attention.

Once they're in the store, we see him balling up the shopping bags in his hands, which to me came across as a sign of anxiety. And given how non-confrontational we know David is, it's almost amazing to hear him respond to Georgia's "Say hi!" with an immediate "Nope." And the whole thing sort of becomes what you might call a self-narrating zoo exhibit (or "self-paparazzi," as I recently heard someone aptly describe it) where David is literally just trying to shop for groceries while Georgia is sticking a camera in his face.

We also notice that at one point, David is recognized by some fans and stops to take a picture with them, which when you think about it is likely a regular occurrence, since he has one of the most famous faces in the country. But because that is the case, you'd also think he would feel a sense of relief when those interactions are over and he no longer has to be "on"...until he goes back to Georgia and she is filming him. And as good-natured as David is, there's no doubt that it must get a little tiring after a while.

All that said--and in the interest of providing a balanced perspective--it is possible that David was playing things up, to an extent, and perhaps even exaggerating some of the annoyance that we saw. And there was something else about this that stood out to me, and that deserves discussion: His shoes...

Yes, David was wearing gay pride Doc Martens. GAY PRIDE BOOTS, ladies and gentlemen and those of other gender persuasions. And when we realize this is the case, everything about this vlog/series of stories starts to gets very interesting. Because while the shoes were by no means the focal point of the Insta stories, Georgia had to know that David's eagle-eyed fans would clock them right away. And clock them they did (and I also noticed this pair of Pride-themed Doc Martens, and would not be at all surprised to learn that David owns a pair of those as well).

Leaving aside the fact that no straight man on this Earth--no matter how strong an ally--would wear those boots (I mean...come on), I almost saw this as a callback/follow up to Georgia's story from a few months ago where she appeared to use "their" pronouns when talking about David (rather than he/him). Much discussion was had at the time of this being a way to "test the waters" for David to start being more open about his sexuality/identity, and this almost feels like a continuation of that.

Having heard from queer followers of mine who are not fully out to their families/friends, it seems that it is not uncommon for folks in that position to wear things to drop little "hints" around people they are not ready to disclose to yet. And when you think about the number of "hints" from the last few months--the nonbinary pin, the pronoun Insta story, David getting emotional talking about Pride Month on that podcast, and now these new Insta stories wearing those boots--it makes you wonder if it's all building toward something.

Whatever the case may be, it's still difficult to overlook how uncomfortable David looked at times in those videos today--even if he was playing things up. For my part, I would genuinely rather never have Georgia post anything about David again than see him in her posts knowing that he is uncomfortable with it. I also agree that her hunger for content seems to be increasing, but I would also like to hope that if David did seriously ask Georgia to stop filming--for any reasons--that she would do so.

So I suppose we'll have to see what (if anything) this all leads to, and what will happen if/when she films him again. Happy as always to hear others' thoughts in the comments...

[m00nsbaby]

Why'd you only call me when you are high?

Marc Spector x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. Angst, unrequired love, mentions of addiction. (Alcohol.) A story made of tiny little pieces of other stories.

Word count. 3.3k

Summary. It became an exhausting routine, something physically draining yet mentally suffocating. It came to a point when you wondered how you were able to deal with this without collapsing every time things got worse.

You met on one of his missions, or perhaps one of yours; that point was never clarified.

You could barely exchange a few words until, for security reasons, both of you had to stay locked in a hotel room for two days, or maybe it was three, you weren't keeping track.

"Do you think about your brother a lot?" You questioned, looking up at the ceiling. You were on the bed with your feet towards the pillows, and Marc's legs were already numb from sitting on the floor, back against the edge of the bed.

You pulled a sigh from him.

Before the confinement, you probably would have thought it was an insensitive question to ask, but it turns out that after 12 hours, both seemed to have descended into madness enough to vomit your life stories to each other.

It almost seemed like a competition to see which story was worse.

"Yes." His gaze was fixed on the floor. "A lot."

"Do you feel like he's with you? Do you believe in those things?" The ceiling had started to form shapes in front of your eyes. Or maybe it was just your tired vision that had already memorized every mark on it.

"I don't believe in those things." It was so strange to hear his voice out of combat, it was sweet and velvety without losing that raspy undertone. "And if I did, I think RoRo would be mad at me."

"He wouldn't be, Marc." You preferred to close your eyes rather than continue forming false figures on the ceiling. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know." It was the last thing he said, not believing his own words.

"Would it be too risky to order room service?"

Marc looked at you, he was pressing his lips together to suppress laughter, and you had pushed yourself far enough onto the bed that your head hung off the edge of the bed. He could feel your hair brushing against him.

In his eyes, you were quite a character.

"Are you hungry?"

"Why do you ask like that?" You turned to look at him. He seemed upside down from your angle.

"We could've died like three times since we got to the country, and who knows how many more times once we get out of here."

"And what does that have to do with my hunger?"

"Aren't you scared?"

"Are you?"

"No." He was. Marc was always scared, but he never showed it, especially now that you were supposed to be a team. He wouldn't drag you into his anxiety when you seemed so carefree.

"Then neither am I."

He gave up, still looking at you.

"What do you want?" He broke contact with you only seconds later, as he got up to retrieve the room phone.

You understood much later that in those 72 hours together Marc talked to you about things he never shared with anyone else, and neither he nor you understood where that sudden trust between you two came from.

Perhaps it was just one of those times when two people click effortlessly, chemistry just happened, and both accepted it.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Both of you were a mess. Marc's curls, for the first time since you had known him (approximately 14 days), were a mess, although it suited him, making him look more carefree than usual.

You, on the other hand, had applied lip balm about 17 times in the last few hours, and every time you saw your reflection on any surface, you complained about the noticeable dark circles. At least the wound on your cheek was healing.

"Of course, I don't live on the streets." You got a laugh out of Marc, who responded as if it were very obvious.

"Are you sure? Because it looks like it."

He nudged you with his shoulder, and this time you laughed.

"I hate flying." The sound of his suitcase on the floor and the number of people walking back and forth around you were testing Marc's already limited patience.

"Is there anything you don't hate?"

"Doubtful."

"Hey, look." With your free hand, you pointed to the airport's food area. It turned out you had been walking for about 40 minutes trying to find something to eat. Marc was about to murder someone just to get a donut, or at least that's what he had said.

After seeing how the mission ended, you didn't doubt his words.

"Maybe it was worth it." He had an impressive ability to joke with a serious expression on his face and the most monotone voice you'd ever heard. "You know, the mission."

"For a donut?"

"For two donuts. Choose whatever you want, I'll pay."

"Are you going to spend two dollars on me? Marc, please, I can't allow that."

You talked little as you ate your donuts at your uncomfortable two-person table. As the time to leave approached, you began to feel weirder.

On one hand, there was the feeling of being at home, the relief of having survived one more mission, and knowing that today you would finally sleep in your own bed. On the other hand, you weren't a person with many friends; saying goodbye to Marc was going to hurt.

And you couldn't stop thinking that this would be the last time you saw him. He also didn't seem like the type to keep in touch after these things.

"So, are you going home?" The airport exit was getting closer, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"I don't know, I don't think so." He checked the time on his wristwatch. "I'll call my wife to see if she can pick me up."

Oh.

Oh.

"Ah." You tried your best not to seem surprised by the casual mention of his partner. You smiled forcibly and mentally wondered why the nausea had increased. "Well, good luck then, Marc."

You let go of your suitcase and didn't give him time to step back when you hugged him tightly. You were complete opposites, the girl who wasn't afraid to express her feelings and the guy who suppressed what he felt as much as he could.

Still, he hugged you back. His arms tightened around your waist, and you clung to his neck for a few extra seconds.

"Good luck." He whispered back, the tiny window of time where he could close his eyes and enjoy your scent one last time.

When you let go of him, both of you were abruptly back in reality, trying to put on your best faces for each other.

"I'll call a taxi, so I'd better hurry." Your hand returned to your suitcase as you took a step back, still looking at him.

You couldn't even fully turn around when he called you.

"Wait." He fumbled in his pockets until he found his worn-out phone, the one he used only for missions or to talk to Layla when the line where he was wasn't secure. "Do you have a personal phone number?"

You always wondered if Marc had intentionally avoided that part of his life, if he also felt strange being with you and that's why he preferred you to think he was single.

Turns out, contrary to what you thought, keeping your friendship afloat actually turned out to be quite easy. You didn't take long to exchange messages and calls.

It was a bit more complicated, as it turned out you lived in completely different ends of the city, and both of you were busy more often than you'd like. But you also managed to visit each other.

He came to your apartment first, looking like a little kid touching all your stuff and entering as if it were his own home.

"You drove here?"

He waved the crumpled bus ticket he still had in his pocket.

"So, are you staying here?"

"Or I'd have to leave in an hour to get there at a decent time."

"Touché." You smiled, his presence didn't bother you at all. In fact, knowing how difficult it would be to meet up, you preferred him to stay there for as long as he could. "I have a guest room."

That night you hardly slept. You seemed like little kids at a sleepover. You watched movies, ate junk food, and talked.

You talked until their throats hurt.

You talked, talked, talked about everything and everyone. You discovered that was what you liked doing most with Marc, talking.

At 5 in the morning, you both went to sleep, and just a few hours later, you were saying goodbye to him again.

It always seemed strange to you that he didn't live with his wife, although you swallowed the urge to ask. You didn't complain; it would have actually been quite awkward to stay in the same house as her.

The next time was your turn to go there, and the formula repeated with two small exceptions.

He took you to his favorite café before you both got comfortable in his apartment. He ordered for you, in fact, insisting that his recommendation would be better than anything you could choose.

Marc had only one bed in his small apartment. You refused to let him sleep on the couch, so you ended up sharing the bed, each on a different side. You knew you would think about that night more often than you'd like to admit.

You heard his phone ring a million times, and he didn't even glance at it. You weren't afraid to admit that if he was ignoring his wife for you, maybe you didn't have a problem with it.

A routine formed for you both. You saw each other at least once a week, both spending an exorbitant amount on travel back and forth, but your lives sometimes became so heavy that you both convinced yourselves you deserved a break.

Oh, and you had a label now. Apparently, for the past two months, you had been best friends, and things were going perfectly, with one small exception.

You didn't want him as a best friend, and your feelings seemed to grow stronger as time went on.

Strangely, things between you two got more complicated when he and Layla started having problems. You always thought it would be the opposite, that maybe if there was a bit more space between them, you'd get more attention from Marc.

Were your desires wrong? Yes, worse than wrong, in fact, but when you were with him, seeing him smile, you couldn't help but wish for their relationship to finally end.

"She hates you," Marc had said over the call, and you laughed, almost cynically.

"It's obvious she hates me, Marc. We spend a lot of time together."

"I think she has a point, you know?" You heard him take a sip of something.

Ouch.

"I know." You cleared your throat. "Maybe you're not giving her her place."

That was the first of many, and so began the agonizing task of having to act as Marc's emotional support. Since he wasn't willing to fully separate from you, he simply lived with the idea that his wife would be on top of him all the time.

"And what did she say afterward?" It was your script all along, lying on your back on your bed.

Your ceiling didn't have cracks or imperfect figures like the one at the hotel in Cairo.

"That I'm not giving her her place, again." Uhm, who would've thought. Just as you suspected. "She doesn't like that I can talk to you and with her it's just… No."

Your heart raced, and you could only cover your emotion by clearing your throat.

"Why not, Marc?"

"I don't know, it's… It's weird. With you, everything is so easy."

If only he could stop being so sweet for just 5 minutes, it would be easier not to be in love with him if he just chose to be a jerk.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess that's how having friends works." He chuckled, but it gave you a pang in your chest.

"Oh, yeah." You cleared your throat again. "I suppose so."

"What should I do?"

'Leave her.' You thought.

"Maybe talk to her. Tell her that we're not romantically interested in each other, right?"

"I've tried that before, she doesn't listen to me."

"Divorce?"

He laughed as if you had told him one of your best jokes.

"Don't be silly, that's never going to happen."

Marc wasn't foolish; he knew perfectly well about your feelings for him. However, he preferred to keep pretending that he simply didn't know rather than lose his best friend. He didn't even know what he would do if one day you weren't in his life.

The truth was, he had never formed such a strong and profound bond with anyone else, not even with Layla.

You learned to know a side of him that you didn't like. He had always been honest with you about his problem with alcohol, and the situation was that you had spent so much time with him while he was 'clean' that you started to believe his alcoholism was now under control, or whatever that might be called.

"She's going to leave me." You heard him sob on the other end of the line, and your stomach churned just hearing the fear reflected in his voice as he uttered those words.

You wondered if anyone would ever feel that fear of losing you too.

"You're drunk, Marc." It was all you could say. "She's not going to leave you; everything seems more dramatic when you're like this."

"I promised her I'd stay away from you." He confessed in the midst of a sip of whiskey.

Was he even aware of how much he was hurting you? Probably not, and you wouldn't be the one to remind him of it the next day.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a few seconds, forcing yourself to regain composure.

"Is that why you're not coming home anymore, Marc?" Your voice cracked, but he didn't seem to care.

"I can't keep hurting her." You bit the inside of your cheek; otherwise, you were sure you'd yell at him.

"Marc? I have to go to sleep."

"Of course, I… I'm sorry, really."

Your skin grew thicker from that night onward, as you accepted that there could never be anything between you and Marc. You had to forcefully digest the fact that his heart belonged to someone else, even though that truth had always been right in front of you.

You couldn't remember the last time Marc had called you just to hang out like you used to do in the beginning.

It was fun. A lot of fun. You would hear him doing things around his apartment, sometimes the creak of his bed as he dropped onto it to speak more comfortably, occasionally you'd watch movies together and discuss them, and once or twice, you fell asleep on the call.

Now, you dealt with the same thing every week – the same daggers stabbing into your heart because, as you saw it, it would be more painful not to have him in your life at all than to have just a part of him.

Besides, of course, your love came coated in a thick layer of concern; it was impossible not to, especially when you saw your best friend slowly deteriorating due to a relationship that seemed to be going downhill. At this point, you didn't even know if it was your fault or if it was simply happening because they weren't compatible.

You couldn't leave him alone, even if you wanted to.

"Are you drinking again?"

"Just a little."

You sighed heavily – that's all he heard from your end.

"I'd prefer if you insulted me." His voice was soft, for a moment, you swore you were hearing the Marc who adored you not too long ago. "Your sounds of disappointment hurt me more."

"I'm not disappointed."

"You are."

"I'm worried."

Another long silence from both ends.

"Would you rather I call you tomorrow?" Oh, Marc, running away from your feelings again.

"That would be fine."

"Okay. I love you."

You didn't respond and simply hung up the call. A horrible migraine had been killing you for the past two hours, since Marc started his speech of the day about why Layla deserved someone better than him but he refused to let her go because he was selfish, and blah blah blah.

Someday you had to explode, right? No one can bottle up their feelings for so long.

It happened while Marc was spewing another story about Layla and how everything was different when they first met. You wondered if it was a pattern for him.

"Marc?" You whispered, and he finally fell silent.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I have to tell you something."

A prolonged silence. Longer than you would have liked until he spoke again.

"No."

"Huh?"

"Don't say it. Please."

"Marc, I have to…"

"I beg you, I don't want to hear…"

"I love you, Marc." You broke when the words managed to escape your throat. He understood that even though you told each other that all the time, this was different for both of you.

"No, don't do this, please." He sounded almost as desperate as you.

"I love you so much, and believe me, I've tried not to." You spoke quickly before he could interrupt you or hang up the call. "But I can't, Marc, I don't know why."

"Y-You know I'm with Layla, you know I love her." Why did it sound like a reproach?

"I know! You remind me of it every night while I'm breaking into pieces." You sobbed, and his chest tightened. "I can't do this anymore, Marc, I can't."

Your sobs and laments were the only things that could be heard on the call for a few minutes as he tried to figure out the smartest thing to say.

The truth was, he was blank. Did you want him to lie?

"I don't… I…" He cleared his throat and tried to stay calm even though he was on the verge of losing it.

"I know you don't feel the same."

Thank God he didn't have to say it out loud.

"I-I don't need you to reciprocate." Were your hands trembling over this nonsense? You felt like a heartbroken teenager. You wanted to hit something to check if that would bring you back to sanity. "I need you to understand that I can't keep doing this."

More silence.

More damn silence.

"Okay." It was all he said.

You wished with all your heart that he would beg not to lose you as he begged every night for Layla not to go.

"Okay." You repeated afterward as you sniffled.

It was all so unfair. You were sure you heard your phone's screen crack when you hung up the call.

Though, you felt so shattered that the stupid glass in your hand was the least important thing to you at that moment.

Anyone would think that would be the end, but it turns out Marc Spector didn't give up easily.

And you understood he had not an ounce of fear of losing you. Marc feared not having someone to talk to at night, he feared not having someone to support him and tell him he was right, he feared loneliness.

So you, with your heart completely broken and your spirits shattered exactly a week later, answered his call.

You told him that Layla was worth it and that he needed to get his life in order if he didn't want to lose her. And you repeated that in the following weeks.

Or was it months? Who knows, you had stopped counting a long time ago.

[lightofraye]

I’ve had a number of followers ask me, more than once, if Jensen was so miserable in his marriage, why does he stay?

I usually respond that there are many variables that we just don’t know. It may be Danneel is using the children to hold him hostage, as many an abuser have been known to use children to manipulate their victims. (And if no children, pets are also used.)

It could be too costly. I have no idea if they have a prenuptial agreement in place (I hope he does but I doubt it…)

He may be waiting to establish residency in Connecticut as the state law requires being established for a year before allowing a divorce filing. We know that’s approaching soon.

He may just be resigned to it. Just because a couple stays together does not mean—in any shape or form—that they’re happy. Trust me, folks, staying together is not proof of being happy.

He may be waiting for the kids to be grown up. That’s a mistake many a couple make—children are incredibly perceptive and can tell when their parents aren’t happy or in love.

They may already be informally separated (meaning no legal filing of separation on file). Certainly the ice cream story sounds heavily like a father who was seeing his kids on visitation.

Then I came across this Buzzfeed article where they quoted some comments from Reddit. The Reddit topic was about insights in their unhappy marriage. The whole article and Reddit post are absolutely worth reading, but several caught my eye and I wanted to publicly share.

This one is tragic: “I am stuck in my marriage because he is blackmailing me saying he will reveal my past to family and relatives. If I argue, he becomes violent. I don’t want to be with him, but there is no one to help.”

Or this one: “Depending on your personality type, you can tend just to resign yourself to things over time. I am in a marriage where we feel more like friends than anything. Our strengths/weaknesses don’t really complement each other. I also somehow end up doing a solid 85%-90% of the work around here (I am in charge of finances, I take care of the dogs, I’m the one who knows how to fix things around the house, and be the one who would take the time to hire the right person to do it when it’s beyond me). I admit I resent it sometimes. But over the years, I don’t really bring it up anymore. I’ve just gotten… used to it.”

This one breaks my heart: “I am so ready to leave, but taking that first step feels so hard. Just finally sitting down and saying the 18 months of therapy and ‘work’ haven’t been working. I dislike the person he has become, and I see no future with him. It’s really the fear of the unknown that keeps me here. I keep reminding myself that I know ZERO divorced people who said they wish they hadn’t divorced, and most say they just wish they hadn’t waited so long. My kids are young enough that they won’t remember, and there is a long road to go on for new, better, happier memories to be made. It’s just finally saying I want to divorce, and I just can’t get it to come out of my mouth.”

And this one: “I work for a guy that has been married 60 years. He said he works 60 hours a week so he doesn’t have to be home with his wife.”*

*This one sounds familiar, no?

It’s never easy. Period. Abused or not, it’s never easy.

[lostintransist]

Liaison | Part 4 | Winning This Bet Will Be Easy

The plot will start plotting here soon, check out tags over here on AO3. Up to chapter 31 over there as of this post.

Kate could, arguably, be the person you know the best in the 141. You had her number saved in your work phone and also your personal. She took you to lunch at least once a week to confirm you weren’t having any problems. This lunch felt a bit special since you had been at your job for six months.

Kate seemed to treat these meals like an informal progress report. She also checked that Ghost wasn’t giving you any more problems. Seems word got around to all the teams that you and he did not get along. Any week you saw him you reported what offense he handed out like a challenge coin and how you responded. The week you told her about the hair pulling she shot beer through her nose.

Coughing, Kate grabbed a napkin. She pressed it against her beer-leaking nose.

“You said what to him?”

“I told him that hair pulling is kinky and asked him if he would follow up on his offer.” Shoving a bite of pasta in your mouth you watch Kate clean up the mess on her face.

“God I wish I could have seen that. Ghost isn’t always a right bastard but when he is it’s hard for anyone beyond Soap to take him to task. Why do you two hate each other so much?”

“I can’t say why on his end but I don’t respond well to demands. First thing he asked of me, ‘scuse me, demanded of me happened on a bad day was to confirm a contract and I could not respond in any way that wouldn’t cause problems. Seems no one else stands up to him so I have become his favorite wall to ram his head into.”

“You’ve been here six months now, how do you feel like you’re fitting in?”

“I’m not.”

Kate paused, looking you over. “Tell me more about that.”

“There isn’t much to say, I am chained to the computer and the phone. I took over this portion of the job from you, you know how much work this is.”

“And I will never be able to thank you enough for that, believe me,” Kate reaches across the table to squeeze your hand once before sitting back up.

“I think the only person I could say I have had a non-work related conversation with is Roach.”

“Roach? Really?”

Kate’s confusion is understandable. Roach is voluntarily mute. You tend to forget he is in the room when you yell at your computer until he sends you a cheeky message about keeping it down over there. It never comes across as high-handed or rude. The man has quick fingers and a quicker wit. The odd back and forth of talking to him and his responses rolling in over chat doesn’t bother you. It’s no different than a voice note in a text conversation.

“Some of the guys are in town tonight and we are hitting the local pub, why don’t you come and get to know them better?” Kate’s offer sounds genuine.

“Will you be there? I would hate for you to miss another epic loss for Ghost,” you tip your beer toward her, brow raised.

The laughter bubbles out of her, “I hadn’t planned on it but if you are going to be there I would love to watch a match up with Ghost.”

“Well, I will meet you in the lobby tonight for drinks. Hopefully, the sparks that fly will show how well Ghost and I don’t get along.”

❈❈❈

No one questioned you or Kate when you appeared in the lobby, standing close to her side. Nearly twenty people filled the small space, some of whom you had no name for. You were positive you had a file on them just no idea which name belonged to which face. When the men moved forward through the door you followed, chatting with Kate the whole time.

The group ended up at a pub no less than a five-minute walk from the building. A cozy space with dark wood paneling and an air that the pub had been around exactly as it was long before the Romans came to conquer.

You end up sitting straight across from Ghost because of course, you do. At the table with you are Ghost, Kate, Price, Soap, and a yet unnamed man with a sad smile. Someone with a name tag appeared at the table once everyone had sat. Price passed over his card to cover the costs of the dinner for the few tables they took up. The woman took everyone’s order with an efficiency that spoke of experience.

The fries, chips, you ordered arrive hot at the table with the drinks. Listening as everyone else talks gives you a better sense of who they are. The man you had no name for goes by Reb, his file noted he was a sniper. He tells good stories, and everyone laughs at the experience he shares of trying to outrun a bull when he accidentally set up a nest on the wrong side of a hill.

Everyone notes when someone enters the bar, quick glances and assessments without breaking the conversation. Even you notice when a gorgeous redhead steps into the room. She settles at the bar. Large, loose curls drift down her back and her freckled face is clear from where you sit.

Over the next hour, you watch three different members of the 141 from different tables try and talk to her. Each gets shut down hard within thirty seconds. After the third man slinks back to his table Soap comments.

“Poor bastards, I doubt anyone could take her home tonight.”

“I could,” you pop another fry into your mouth.

You pause chewing when the table goes silent.

“What? She hasn’t given any of the men an iota of attention. Look at how she’s dressed, her outfit screams lesbian.”

All eyes focus on the woman at the bar. She doesn’t turn but shifts on her stool.

“Prove it then.” The challenge comes from Ghost.

“Wanna bet on it Gengar?”

Kate’s eyes go wide and connect with Price’s who smirks at the whole interaction.

“Oh, Jesus save us,” Soap takes a large swallow of his drink.

“£1,000,” Ghost snarls.

“Done, winning this bet will be easy.” Pulling a stack of sticky notes and a pen from your backpack you write down your Venmo.

Peeling off the top layer you slap the paper on the center of the table.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to get the money together after I leave with her. Kate, thanks for the invite. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sending nods around the table, you give Ghost a wink instead.

A fourth man is leaving, tail between his legs, when you slide onto the stool next to the beauty.

“Hi, I know you probably came here to just have a drink alone but could I interest you in helping me win a bet?”

She sends you a heavy side eye as she sips at her drink.

“What kind of bet?”

Leaning heavily onto the bar you point toward Ghost.

“You see that scary motherfucker over there?” She turns, eyes him, and turns back to you. You continue, “See I don’t get along with him. Quite frankly I think he is a bastard and would love to win £1,000 off him. The task that will win me that money is getting you to leave with me.”

A surprised little laugh drifts to you.

“That is quite a tall order.”

“I agree, and the least I could do is tell you what is going on and ask for a bit of help.” Sticking your hand out for a shake you give a name, “You can call me L.”

“L,” she looks you up and down, more interested, “You can call me Clare.”

“Hi Clare, wanna help me win a bet? I would love to take you to dinner for your trouble.”

Her tongue plays with the edge of her canine as she thinks.

“Why not, where would you take me?” She turns from the bar to face you fully.

The scraping of chair legs against the wooden floor tells you someone is unhappy to be losing. An angry murmur follows and you trust that Price or Soap will handle Ghost.

“I’m new in the area, I would take you wherever you wanted. You know the max budget for the date,” you flirt with her.

Her hand moves to rest on your arm as she leans closer.

“And if I did,” she pauses, “want to go home with you?”

“Well I’ve never had a chance to bed a beautiful and savvy woman like yourself but I’m a quick study,” you lean forward, tipping your head to the side ever so slightly.

Clare takes the invitation and initiates a small kiss. You match her effort, pulling away with a smile.

“Let’s get out of here Clare, I owe you dinner,” you breathe the words against her lips.

She slips from her stool, dropping a small purse on a long chain over one shoulder. You signal for the bartender.

“Can you put her drink on Price’s tab? He will approve it. If not I will pay you for it the next time I come by.”

The woman nods, “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I would hope so.”

Clare heads toward the front door, and you follow behind. Before you leave the building you turn and find Ghost staring at you, eyes hard.

Lifting all your fingers you mouth ‘ten minutes’ at him before you follow your date for the night into the dark.

Your phone dings before you can hail a cab.

Part 3 | AO3

Masterlist

[munsons-melody]

hi! i read your 'angeleyes' fic and it was AMAZING i was just wondering.. perhaps, just maybe, a part 2-ish where y/n and eddie actually have that picnic at lovers lake ?? i think that would be so cute and pure 🤭 or it could be a totally separate thing from the fic itself!

eeek i'm so happy you wanted a part 2!! sorry for the late response, i wanted to write the fic as perfect as possible before responding, i hope you love it!! <3

your song (angeleyes part two)

summary: you and eddie finally get your date at lovers lake

(part two to my fic angeleyes which can be found here)

pairing: eddie x female!henderson!reader

content: pure fluffiness

recommended song: 'your song' by elton john

word count: 4.4k

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

-

after you and eddie reconciled in the back of the RV, you vowed to yourself that you would let nothing happen to him and he of course already told you that he would keep you safe no matter what

even when that meant reading his mind when returning through the gate. you had watched dustin climb through the rope into normal hawkins, before turning to eddie. he gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up and through the gate, but once through, you looked down to see eddie staring at where the demo bats were attempting to breach through the top of the trailer

"edward james munson, get your ass through this gate right now!" you screamed, knowing he wanted to go out there and keep fighting, be the hero he was destined to be

"coming" he mumbled, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back up through the gate to see you

once you reconvened with everyone back in the real world, you felt some weight fall off your shoulders, assuming vecna was dead, and you felt a sense of normalcy headed your way, however, that was not what happened

eddie was found and arrested within hours of being back in the real hawkins because a couple people spotted movement within his trailer

you sat on the cold hard chair in the waiting room of the hawkins police department. it had been at least an hour since eddie was taken back to the small cell they had in the back of the building. you sat there with your hands buried in your hands with dustin next to you, who was biting on his thumb nail out of pure anxiety.

the news had not gone public but you were scared that at any minute, angry mobs of people would appear, ready to rip him apart for something he didn't do

sheriff powell walked into the room, handing a file over to florence who sat behind her desk. you stood up, looking for some sort of sign that you would be able to go back and see him

"uh we need to ask you a couple of questions as well, if you wouldn't mind," he said, ushering you to follow him

"no, whatever you want to ask, you can ask me right here," you said, crossing your arms

"ugh whatever, uh, did he force either of you two into his murderous plans?" he started, flipping open a small notebook, clicking his pen with a frustrated sigh

it was obvious that since he took on the role of the hawkins sheriff, he never expected to be put in a situation like this and as the arresting officer, he was clearly stressed knowing he had the number one suspect of the murders in the building and only him and florence knew that he was sitting in the holding cell

"what? no! that's crazy, he is innocent!" dustin yelled

"son, you need to remain calm or we won't be able to get to the bottom of this," he said, rubbing his forehead in distress

"calm? you want me to stay calm? you just arrested someone who is more innocent than mother theresa! he was framed!" dustin yelled again, throwing his hands up to dramatize his point

just then, the phone rang.

"hawkins police department, how may i help you?" she said picking up the phone and placing it on her ear. she balanced it between her shoulder as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing something down

she muttered a couple of "uh-huhs" before hanging up the phone and standing up, walking over to the sheriff

"that was officer callahan, he just found some kids at the abandoned creel house, one of them with broken arms and legs like the others, she was taken to the hospital about half an hour ago" florence explained, and you looked at dustin

"is she awake? can she talk?" powell asked and florence shrugged

"they didn't say," she responded and Powell nodded

"i'll be back, you two stay here" powell said firmly, grabbing his sheriff hat and walking out the door

you nodded, and sat down again, tears pricking at your eyes feeling frustrated as ever

"are you guys hungry?" florence asked sweetly and you shook your head, rubbing your forehead

"you sure? cause i can go grab something next door, and while i do so, there's no one here to stop you from seeing mr. munson..." she trailed off

you lifted your head up, picking up on what she was trying to say. she would leave to get food and while she was gone, she was going to let you see eddie

"but what about-" you started and she shook her head

"i'm going to go get you two food, you two look famished" florence said again, grabbing her coat and purse and walking swiftly out of the door leaving you and dustin alone in the building

you would assume that there would be more officers working, but most were out patroling the streets or looking for eddie, unaware that the sherriff already brought him in

you quickly ran down the hall and turned the corner to see eddie sitting on the hard metal bench that was connected to the wall, his head in his hands

"eddie?" you said urgently. he lifted his head up to see you and instantly got up and walked towards the bars that divided the two of you

"y/n, how did you get back here?" he asked, linking his hand with yours that met on one of the bars

"florence let me back but that's not important, how are you?" you asked sympathetically

"oh you know, just peachy, i almost die defeating an evil force just to get thrown in jail for a crime i didn't commit" he said sarcastically. you knew he was using it as a defense mechanism to cover the fact that he wanted to cry and scream and punch a wall for being in the worst situation imaginable

"well i am going to do everything in my power to get you out of here i promise" you told him and he nodded, wiping away a tear

"oh eddie bear don't cry" you said, using his nickname you started to call him when you first started dating

"ew, eddie bear?" dustin said, appearing behind you

"hey at least she is being nice" eddie snapped back and dustin crossed his arms

"i am nice too! i'm here to help get you out," dustin told him and you sorta droned out as the two continued to bicker like brothers with one another

you both stayed with eddie for a couple more minutes before you heard the bell of the front door ring, signaling someone was coming in

"shit, okay, i love you, i'll be back" you said to eddie, disconnecting your hands and following dustin out of the room and down the hall back to where the desks were

florence came back in holding a large brown paper bag, giving you a small smile

"sorry im a few minutes later than i should've been, there was a long line" she said with a wink, handing you the bag

you thanked her as she took out one package of food and headed down the hallway, presumably towards eddie, and left the rest to you and dustin as you dove into the meal

you were almost done, snacking on a couple of leftover fries when both sheriff powell and officer callahan walked into the building and down the hall to eddie

you got up, following them, not caring if you would get reprimanded for doing so. they were both silent as you watched them unlock the cell, eddie standing up and looking at them with confusion

"mr. munson, under new evidence you are no longer under arrest for the murders of chrissy cunningham, fred benson, and patrick mckinney. you are free to go" powell said with a grisly voice

eddie slowly walked out of the cell, staring at the two officers incase they were to have a snap in judgment and throw him back in

"what.. what do you mean?" you asked as he walked to you, giving you a hug

"we cannot disclose much but, we found that there was another accident that occurred when mr. munson here was in this cell, which proves.." callahan started to say

"it proves he didn't do it since we had him detained here so there was no way he was able to get out and do anything" powell finished

you started crying, and your arms wrapped around eddie, pulling him in close

"thank god" you mumbled out, before it hit you

-

the next day you woke up in your bed, eddie next to you. after all the shit that went down, you were more than happy to be showered and laying in bed next to eddie who was no longer convicted of a crime he didn't commit

the two of you snuck into your room the night before as you were promised as of 12 pm last night, the news would be spread that eddie munson was innocent

you knew that even with the proof of innocence, people would still be cruel towards your boyfriend so you decided the best course of action was to let him sleep all day in a comfy bed, then take him on a picnic to lovers lake. it would be secluded and give you a chance to just be with him

you rolled out of bed quietly and walked out of your room and down the hall to the living room. you saw your mom sitting in her chair with tews sitting on her lap, watching the news

"did you see this?" she asked, motioning to the tv where you saw the headline underneath powell stating the new evidential facts

new evidence found in munson case - suspect found innocent

"yeah uh, i did see that, i actually picked him up from the station last night..." you told her and she gasped

"where is he now? he obviously can't go home" she asked

"now mom, don't get mad but he had to stay over last night-" you tried to explain and she got up, putting tews on the seat behind her

"he's here?" she said with a mix of a shout with a whisper, you gulped with a nod

"well, that poor thing! after everything he's been through! does he need anything?" she asked, and you were shocked

"oh uh, not now? he's sleeping but when he gets up he'll probably need something to eat and then i'm taking him on a picnic tonight," you smiled sheepishly

"oh good, well i do have to head to work soon but please make him feel at home, poor thing has been through enough" she told you and you nodded with an unsure smile

"yeah sure" was all you said as she walked to her room

you stood there, stunned. to be fair she knew you and eddie were dating and how close he and dustin were, but the whole situation of him being accused of something so heinous really freaked her out.

you checked the time and saw it was only about 8 am, your mom would leave in a few minutes and you knew for a fact eddie and dustin, who were both dead asleep, would probably not wake up till hours later

figuring you should do something of use, you decided to wash eddie's clothes, start prepping food for your picnic, and find some other things to busy yourself with

-

"how's max" you asked nancy. she was at the hospital with mike and lucas, and she called you after wondering where you went. you explained the eddie situation which she was thankful for, and updated the rest of the group for you.

"alive, but her arms and legs are broken and in casts, the doctors don't know when she'll wake up," she said as you heard her sniffles

a few tears started to fall upon hearing the news, and you nodded, thankful she was alive but praying she would wake up and everything would be okay

"how's eddie doing?" she asked just as you heard a door creak open. you looked around the corner to see eddie coming out of your room in just a pair of boxers

"speak of the devil, he just woke up," you told her as eddie wrapped his arms around you, the warmth of his body heating up yours

you continued to talk with nancy for a few more minutes as eddie slowly swayed you side to side. the two of you eventually said goodbye and you hung up, turning your body to face eddie

"hi baby" he said as you put your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck

"how'd you sleep?" you asked

"fucking amazing, such an upgrade from ricks couch," he said, kissing your forehead

you stood like that for a handful of minutes, enjoying the bliss of standing in each others arms.

"you hungry?" you asked. "yeah" he mumbled out. you went to move out of his arms but he wouldn't let you move

"baby i kinda have to go to the kitchen" you laughed, trying to worm your way out of his arms and he gripped tighter

"nope, cant let you go, i love you too much" he laughed as he fake wrestled you to avoid you leaving his arms

eddie and you fumbled to the floor, causing you two to burst into giggles. you hadn't heard his laugh in the longest time and it warmed your heart

"i've missed that" you said, leaning on your side to look at him. he propped himself up on his arm and out the other around your waist

"missed what" he asked, stroking your hip lightly with his thumb

"you, your smile, your laugh, everything" you giggled out

"i missed everything about you too" he said, using his hand on your hip to pull you close. he swiftly moved so he was hovering over you, slowly leaning down to kiss you

just as your lips touched, you heard a few footsteps and then a loud "what the fuck, get off the floor" by an annoyed dustin, who clearly just woke up

"sorry man" eddie mumbled out, and got up, and helped you up from the floor as well

you cooked the two of them breakfast, and munched on a few pieces here and there before dustin got up, putting his plate in the sink

"i'm going to get dressed and then head to the hospital to see max, can you drive me there?" he asked eddie, and he nodded a yes

"uh babe, where are my clothes?" eddie asked

"oh i washed and dried them for you, they should be downstairs, i can go get it" you said, kissing his temple in passing

you quickly got his clothes out of the dryer and brought them back up from the basement, going to your room and setting them on your bed

you went back to the kitchen, and started cleaning the dishes up, noticing dustin left the table

"i put your clothes on my bed" you said to him when he came up behind you and kissed your neck

"or we can make it even and you can lose your clothes" he suggested, kissing up your neck

you smiled, drying your hands on the small towel next to the sink

"oh really?" you smirked, as he kissed up your neck, you pressed back against him causing a small moan to emit from his perfect pink lips

"okay eddie im ready to go!" you heard dustin scream as he walked down the hall

"fucking cock block" eddie mumbled, leaning his forehead against your shoulder causing you to giggle

"go on, i'm gonna work on our surprise date" you said and he kissed your shoulder

"its not really a surprise if you tell me about it" he said, pulling away from you causing the chilly air to nip at your skin

"well i had to tell you cause you're gonna drive us there" you said smiling

"oh really?" he said, pulling you in for another kiss

"really" you said pulling away

"ew gross guys cmon im right here" you heard dustin complain. you giggled as you watched eddie flick dustins temple as he passed him on the way to your room

a few minutes later he came back out wearing his newly cleaned hellfire t shirt and black jeans, slipping on his shoes

"lets go" he said, keys in hand

-

after eddie got back, you two packed up food, and you honestly didn't care that you knew he knew where you guys were going

you had gotten dressed into a comfy sweater and jeans, knowing it was going to be a bit nippy when the sun set by the lake

eddie helped you push the picnic basket and blankets into the back of his van then helped you up into the passenger seat, shutting your door for you, always refusing for you to get it because to him 'a lady should never get her own door' and always insisted he did it instead

"so i think i know where we're having our surprise date" eddie said with a smirk, hopping into the drivers seat and shutting the door 

he turned on the engine in his van and started the usual drive from your house to lovers lake 

the radio played softly, and you turned your body to admire him, watching him focus on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the clutch.

"what's going through your mind pretty girl?" he asked, noticing you looking 

"nothing, just admiring how pretty you are," you smiled, and he stretched the hand he had on the clutch and moved it to your thigh

you put your hand on top of his, stroking his skin lightly before your hands intertwined. you felt the roughness of his calloused fingers graze over yours along with the metal of his rings that he refused to go anywhere without 

"you think i'm pretty?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips as he glanced over at you

"of course, god broke the mold when he made you," you said with a giggle and eddie rolled his eyes, a real smile stretching over his face 

"that's so cheesy" eddie said with a chuckle. the radio continued to play as you sat in comfortable silence

but it wasn't long before the two of you were talking about everything and anything as you usually would end up doing but you secretly loved it, to you it proved you would never run out of things to talk about 

before you knew it, you had arrived at your usual spot in lovers lake. it was a small, quiet area that you hadn't seen too many people in but it was perfect for the two of you. there was enough room for the van to be parked on the side of the road, and your usual spot sat in a clearing of bushes which provided some privacy which was nice. it was also close to the water which gave the right amount of ambience to your dates with eddie. it was a peaceful intermission from life everytime you came here and that's why it soon became your favorite 

of course during the break up, you were very upset you couldn't go there to think, just out of pure fear you were to see eddie here with some other girl. but you didn't know what was worse, running into him on a date with another girl in your spot, or seeing him there all alone and not being able to be with him sitting on the shoreline 

you and eddie took your stuff from his van and walked down to where you normally set the blanket and you had a sense of deja vu wash over you 

"agh i'm getting deja vu" you spoke, setting down the blanket which made eddie chuckle

"i just take it that if it was meant to happen before you're where you're meant to be right now" eddie said setting up the food, and you laughed 

"when did you become so wise?" you asked in surprise and eddie shrugged with a smile 

"somewhere on the walk from the car to here" eddie joked

-

the sun had set, the food was finished, and the music was playing from one of eddie's transistor radios he had from his van

you were leaning against eddie who was sitting against a tree, giving you the perfect view of the lake while eddie's arms wrapped around you 

the song on the radio changed and suddenly you were listening to the familiar tune of 'your song' by elton john

"ugh i love elton, but this song is so cheesy and overplayed" you complained to eddie

"can i tell you a secret?" he responded causing you confusion on his response 

"yeah?" you told him

"i actually kinda like this song" he said with a sheepish smile 

"what?" you said in surprise and he nodded, shifting his position to get up, offering a hand to help you up from your spot 

you stood up as he gently pulled you in close, your hands were on his chest as his arms snaked around your waist, and he rested his hands on your lower back 

he started to dance with you as the lyrics flowed, and your heart skipped a beat as he started to sing along

'I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do My gift is my song, and this one's for you'

he quickly kissed you between verses before he continued to sing to you, gently swaying you back and forth as you laid your head on his chest, putting your arms around his neck 'And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple, but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world'

you started to tear up a little bit just from the amount of pure love for the man in front of you. he moved his head to get your attention just to sing you your favorite line from the whole song 

'yours are the sweetest eyes i've ever seen'

you smiled and looked away, blushing as he continued to sing along until the song ended and the two of you stood there in each other's arms, the radio switching to some other song while hearing the light waves from the lake splash onto the edge of the ground where you stood

"i guess its not such a cheesy song after all" you muttered, wiping a tear from your cheek

"guess not" eddie agreed, leading to another few minutes of silence of standing there with each other which was pure bliss after the hell you've encountered the past few weeks, before eddie spoke again 

"it's all true though" he said and you responded with an intrigued "hm?"

"the song, it's true for me. you make life the most wonderful thing to experience just because you're here with me, and i can't say it enough but i love you more than life y/n" he said, locking eyes with you

you gently cupped his face, kissing him with such passion you were sure it would break the world record for the amount of love shown through a kiss. he kissed you back, pulling you in close like he would lose you the second he let go. your hands tangled in his hair as your tongues explored each other's mouths like it was new territory. 

when you finally pulled away for air, eddie kept you close, leaning his forehead against yours and rubbing a hand on the back of your neck. he kissed your forehead lightly before pulling away, looking at your fingers entangling with his

he quickly pulled away and turned around before he whipped back around and got down on one knee, holding up the ring he always wore on his right hand. the one he stole from his mom's jewelry box when he was 12 but she ended up letting him keep it, finding it endearing he wanted to wear it

"y/n, this is a promise that no matter how stupid i am, that we always work things out, and we stay that way no matter what. i love you and never want to let you go and as a token of my promise, and my love and appreciation, will you please wear my ring and be mine again?" he asked, looking up at you, the lyrics of having the sweetest eyes you've ever seen coming to fruition with his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours

"eddie i-" you started to feel the tears fall down your cheeks as you stopped yourself, a small giggle coming from your mouth 

"i love you eddie, yes of course" you said as you stretched out your hand to meet his as he slipped the ring onto your ring finger. it fit a little too perfectly, causing your heart to flutter. 

he stood up, picking you up and spinning you around as you let out a laugh squeal combination, before putting you back down on the ground, holding your face as you leaned into his hand, watching his eyes look at you with a look of admiration 

"one day i'll write you my version of your song, and it'll be all for you" he said with a smile 

"will it include cheesy lyrics?" you laughed and he nodded

"naturally" 

fin.

[writing-for-life]

Hey there! I hope you’re having a good day. I just saw a post you made about Dream’s type romantically. Thoughts on Calliope and Dream’s relationship specifically? It always stands out to me how though Dream has had a number of lovers throughout the millennia, Calliope is the only one he married. (And of course, Melissanthi Mahut and Tom Sturridge’s blistering chemistry in the show is an additional component for me xD but feel free to respond only based on the comics if you wish!)

Hey, always happy to see your asks in my inbox!

So, first of all; I don’t care what everyone else thinks:

Dream and Calliope are the OTP even though I’m not a shipper. There, I said it, hit me over the head with a hammer, I live well in that tiny little corner of fandom 🤣

Conceptually, they are very, very alike. There is definitely something in there about dreams marrying epic poetry (and eloquence!) that’s just so on the nose.

But I also can’t help thinking: Slight power imbalance maybe, and we also get this more directly via the “all gods get born and die in the Dreaming.” I think often about how this would have played out for them once Calliope’s last worshippers have died—it’s certainly a tough one, even if their relationship hadn’t soured.

But even so: She is the Muse of Epic Poetry, he is the Prince of Stories, so there is A LOT of overlap between what they stand for. And hence, a lot of mutual understanding. They always struck me as *getting* each other (probably why they fell in love in the first place)—until they didn’t. The fact they didn’t live together was good for them I think, because thoughts need to be allowed freedom to form and develop. Plus, there’s also a lot to be said for Calliope keeping her independence that way. Not just in terms of personhood, but again if you think of how she was essentially created in, and will return to, the Dreaming. It’s probably wise for her (in conceptual terms) not to hang out there ALL the time?

She seems a lot more grounded in the mortal world than Dream is though. I always thought that was down to the fact that humans know her, as in actively worship her/ask her for inspiration, which must make her much closer in a way? Because bar a few, no one really *knows* Dream exists, although everyone does, if that makes any sense? Mortals know him on a subconscious level (that’s why he’s forever nebulous and *lonely*), but people know Calliope as a deity and seek connection explicitly. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here, but to me, that was always a reason why, although a goddess, she seemed far less removed from the mortal plight than Dream was (at least when they were still an item—we all know he changed, even if he didn’t admit it [well, he did in the end to Nuala, which is a whole ‘nother topic]).

And when I think about why they didn’t work out, I can only think: “Orpheus”.

I mean yes, she said that they were already starting to drift apart slightly before she was with child, but there was still a lot of love between them even so. I think the death knell was to have a child on these wonky foundations. Why they did, we’ll never know.

Conceptually, there’s again something very deep and painful about dreams and poetry becoming something real. And then, that mortal child becoming immortal (until his father finally intervenes). But Orpheus was still all mortal and human to his core, even when he became immortal for a while, and that was *always* at the base of their rift. But I digress…

Back to why was Orpheus the death of their marriage? Dream’s advice to Orpheus was sound, yet it was unfeeling and lacked empathy. Calliope’s was maybe (?) not as reasonable, but she understood her child because a mother’s love is (usually) unconditional. We all know Dream’s wasn’t for a long time although it should have been.

I think if they’d all sat together as a family, supported their son in his grief in a balanced way, this whole catastrophe could have been avoided (I mean no, not really—it’s a tragedy, “doomed by the narrative” and all that). But all of Dream’s relationships (be that to his son or his lovers) fail because he is unreality (hence he has a hard time when things quite literally get real), and despite *knowing* mortals on a very deep level, I don’t believe he truly *understood* them at this point. But I think Calliope did—maybe due to who she was, maybe just because she actually *allowed* them in? Because Dream never truly did that. And when he finally did and truly understood what unconditional love actually means, he came apart at the seams and unravelled.

There’s also something really interesting conceptually in thinking of the Prince of Stories who doesn’t believe he has his own, and the Muse of Epic Poetry who inspires. Who is trying to control whom in this scenario? It’s mirrored in how they behave when the whole Orpheus tragedy takes off:

Calliope tries to inspire and, dare I say try to control the narrative a bit, and I don’t mean this in a bad way, quite the opposite: She looks for the most favourable outcome for everyone involved, even if it means bending the rules: She tries to convince Dream to put in a good word with Hades and believes he would listen because Gods respect him and, dare I say it, are even a bit scared of him.

Dream is rigid. Which is so mind-bending for someone who is the personification of hopes, wishes and possibility. But he is an immovable object: If he’s right, he’s right. That’s the rules, that’s it. And he won’t bend them, not even for his son. I’m not saying that it’s not understandable from his point of view, because he might know things we don’t (potentially also that although he *could* bend the rules because he has the power to do so, it might have knock-on effects no one else can understand or see—it’s impossible to say), only that they are fundamentally different in their approach although they are *both* about inspiration. And inspiration is so closely related to bringing on change (ouch!).

Part of me wants to say that Calliope uses it to control the narrative while Dream doesn’t, that Calliope believes that we can change our destiny while Dream doesn’t, but that’s also too simple. Because Dream *can* be controlling, but in totally different ways and areas.

I feel like I’m rambling out a lot of unordered thoughts, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that Dream and Calliope were so close because they are so similar in so many ways bar one:

Their understanding how inspiration can be used to bring on change. I would somehow go as far as saying that Calliope understands what it means to have personhood, also for herself, and that’s why she understands it in others (I think this is made *very* clear when Richard Madoc holds her hostage). Dream doesn’t—least not at the point where it would have mattered with regards to their relationship, because I think the fishbowl has changed him in that regard. This is also why he wants to make things right with her I believe. But of course he would never openly admit it (he basically stops himself before blurting it out), simply because it would also mean he’d need to admit it to himself…

With regard to that meta:

I definitely think they were highly romantically attracted, purely down to who/what they are. I can’t say too much about their sexual attraction, but after Calliope’s speech at his wake, it would be somewhat unlikely to assume they weren’t 🙈🤣

Was it unconditional though? No.

Was it pragmatic (that sounds so bad and unfeeling, but it’s not a bad thing, because a certain level of pragmatism is what grounds love in reality and makes it last)? I think they tried. But ultimately, he can never live that way because he is unreality, and I often wonder if they both knew 😭

@two-hands-toward-the-sun ask answered