#business bug sweep

[privateinvestigatorsuniverse]

How do private investigator surveillance experts use top-notch tools?

Private investigation is a witty field, so to stay ahead, you need to take the measured step. Most importantly, the investigating companies must rely on the top-notch surveillance technology. They need to gather information that is precise and accurate. For that, private investigator surveillance is a must. Therefore, let's see what cutting-edge tools are generally used.

Using high-definition cameras and video recorders

Well the private investigator surveillance use marvellous technologies. In that regard, high-end discreet and compact cameras no doubt steal the show. They help the investigator to get a precise, detailed picture of the whereabouts. They offer the most accurate and best footage of the objects. Also, capture other activities in detail irrespective of the distance, lighting condition, or challenging ambience.

The investigator relies on GPS trackers for correct information

The private investigator surveillance professionals always use GPS, which is one of the vital modern surveillance tools. These devices can be placed secretly in the personal assets or vehicle to track the whereabouts of the suspected individual. The best part is that you can get accurate time information on the activities and behaviour here.

Drone Technology is quite an indispensable equipment

When it comes to private investigator surveillance, of course, the contributions of drones are undeniable. With this, you can get the aerial footage and perform supervision. Basically, drones have inbuilt high-resolution cameras fit on the tip that gives advanced insights into the detailed view of the subject's location.

Final Talk

Thus, these are some of the best facts about the private investigator  surveillance providing company. They also conduct tscm sweep as well.

[artemis32]

yandere Tim Drake i

this man has the sluttiest undercut I've ever seen - also, this is shit, but you pretend to love it, okay? Okay.

dc masterlist

Thinking about Tim Drake, who, in all his time as Red Robin, has never once caught a break.

He's always busy, always out on patrol, busting drug rings or trafficking schemes, always locked up in a dark, soulless room doing research for Bruce, always doing something.

So, one day, when he finds a small slice of heaven, a refuge from the never ending list of responsibilities he has to see to, he's sure to grab it with both hands and keep it close to his chest.

He, somewhat guiltily, doesn't tell anyone about it. It feels like something just for him - a space for him to relax, where he doesn't have to pretend he has his whole life together.

Maybe it's a dusty old library hidden between the high-rises of Gotham Central, maybe it's a dingy cybercafe he stumbled upon after a long night of patrol. Or perhaps it's not even a physical place - maybe it's an online forum or group chat of some kind.

No matter what it might've been, it had grown to be a safe haven. And it only becomes better when, one stupidly sweltering summer afternoon, you slip in.

Sweet, oblivious you.

God, he loved you. You were everything he wanted to be. Free of all worry and hardship, at least in his eyes. You were innocent and so sickly sweet. He loved everything about you. From the way your eyes sparkled when you got excited, and the animated way you spoke, using your hands to make wide, sweeping gestures, to the tired scowl that pinched your mouth and brow after a long day.

The clothes you wore, the way you smelled, the beautiful, soft glow of your skin, he loved it all.

****

He loved you.

Only, you didn't exactly know he existed. And he never actually, you know, spoke to you. But that didn't matter! No, not at all, not when he had enough love for the both of you.

He knew everything about you.

Where you lived, how old you were, your likes and dislikes, every dirty little secret you thought you could hide away, things you thought were kept concealed in the corners of your mind.

He knew, and he loved you regardless. Not in spite of them, but rather, because of them. He loved that you were so flawed, so imperfect, and yet still so innocent to your core. He felt the deep seated need to keep you that way, to maintain that innocence and shield it from the horrors of Gotham, of the world.

That was why he watched over you, every hour of every day.

Did he think it was wrong, or creepy? Yeah, a bit, but he didn't really care to change. How bad could his actions really be, if they were keeping you safe?

So what if hacking all your devices and bugging your house wasn't legal? He was a vigilante, he was just doing his job. So what if he put a tracker in every pair of shoes you owned? He just needed to keep track of your movements, make sure you weren't wandering off anywhere too dangerous.

More than a few times, he'd followed you at night, watching from above as you ambled through the streets of Gotham, completely oblivious to how vulnerable you were. Really, how did you manage to survive this long without him watching over you? Do you even know how many robberies and assaults he'd saved you from before they'd happened?

He held off on actually speaking to you, as Tim Drake or Red Robin. Maybe it was nerves, or fear, or something beyond the words he had to communicate what he felt for you. Regardless, he was content watching you from the side lines.

For now.

****

After a while of watching from a distance, he'd decided he needed a bit more than just the sight of you. That's how he ended up donning his Red Robin costume and letting himself into your apartment one night to watch over you as you slept.

It had quickly become an admittedly bad habit, one that he didn't bother trying to correct.

Watching you calmed something within him, something he hadn't even known was there. He'd started including your small apartment on his patrols, at least three times a week, and it's become the highlight of his day.

Then, one day, months after this little song and game of his started, he decided enough was enough. Why was he being so weird and pathetic about it? He was a hero. He was smart, and attractive (or at least, that's what his mother used to say), and he was rich. He was the whole package. What more could someone ask for?

So, he bit the bullet and talked to you. Or, he would have, if you'd actually, you know, shown up. But you didn't. And that was fine! Totally, 100% fine! It wasn't like he felt disappointed or angry or anything. He'd just try again another time.

Only... in the months that he'd known you, his patience had dwindled to a near trickle, and he realised he couldn't wait. And so, he made probably the dumbest, most rookie mistake of his vigilante career.

He snuck into your apartment and, naturally, as one does, revealed himself to you. In full costume, mask and all. Well, the mask had come off about ten minutes into his fanatical rant, but-

Wait, why were you looking at him like that?

No, no, don't- don't back away. Hey, why were you reaching for your phone? Who were you calling?

The police? No, no, no, no, no- This isn't how it was supposed to go, damnit!

****

Now, watching you sleep in his bed, so cosy and soft, as if you belonged there (you did belong there), he chides himself for not doing this sooner.

What was he so scared of? Sure, you'd seemed a bit overwhelmed when he'd dropped onto your balcony and stepped into your apartment, but it was probably just sheer joy that had you screaming like that.

And, well, sure, you'd rambled on about him watching you for months prior - which he had - but for you to call it 'stalking' seemed like a bit of an over exaggeration.

Despite all that, he knew - knew - that you'd be so happy when you woke up. As happy as you made him. Because despite everything going on in his life - his struggles as Robin, with Batman and Damian, with Stephanie and Connor, and leading the Young Justice team - despite all that, he had you.

And just the thought of you alone brightened his day.

Now? Having you here, with him, for the foreseeable future?

That alone made whatever anger or fear you may have towards him worth it.

And, you know, they did say love blinds people. So maybe you were right about all that (Doubtful. He was smart. He was also right about all this).

But it didn't really matter. Not now, not when you were finally his.

[daryldove]

The Sinful, The Guilty

incubus!daryl x fem!reader

monster fucking, size difference, stomach bulge, happy halloween!

summary: you get more than you bargained for when stumbling across a spooky basement in a seemingly abandoned cabin. 2.3k

It's an unnecessarily humid day, and although you had planned on covering lots of ground, you can't muster the willpower to bother. Now you're deep in the woods, trying to improve your mediocre hunting skills. You can't even remember the last time you ate fresh meat. But you're also already exhausted. It's too hot, the bugs are relentless, and it seems like a storm is brewing, so you decide to only walk as much as you can handle while searching for shelter.

Cabins this far out were few and far between, but as one appears through the trees after hours of walking, you decide maybe things aren't so bad after all. The interior is dusty and musty, but it's a better shelter than you've had ages. And you can't exactly afford to be picky. A small cot sits in one corner across from a cold fireplace. Lucky, after all.

You spend the next few minutes getting settled, spreading your belongings around, already taking advantage of having such a secluded, safe feeling place to call home for a bit. That's when you suddenly trip over something protruding from under the frayed rug. Which fucking hurts. You start rolling over the worn material, ready to give whatever inanimate object a piece of your damn mind, only to stare wide eyes once you expose a boarded up trapdoor. Immediately, it has you feeling somewhat queasy.

It takes an hour, your knife, and more energy than you'd like to admit to finally pry all the boards off. You hesitate, for the first time despite all the work it took, as an eerie feeling washes over you. This is creepily suspicious; maybe you should mind your own business. In fact, being inside the cabin at all suddenly feels… off. You sit back on your heels, biting your lip anxiously as you stare down at the latch. Just as the idea of leaving grows appealing, light rain starts echoing against the wood roof. Fuck. Okay, well… Guess you're stuck here, and you're absolutely not sleeping without knowing what's hiding underneath. With growing hesitation, you unclip the latch and open the trapdoor.

After dropping from the ladder, you shine your torch over the dark room. It's damp and stagnant inside, and mostly empty except for what appears to be a shrine on the opposite wall. Your gaze sweeps over various items, herbs, bottles, and books before noticing the faded pentacle drawn in chalk. Unintelligible symbols are written around the outside. Some freaky religious shrine wasn't exactly what you expected, although you suppose it's better than a rotting corpse.

You reach over to pick up a weathered book resting over the star, a small, broken cross resting underneath clinks at the movement. The text in the book is in another language you don't understand, seemingly different from the markings on the floor. Despite the initial creepiness, there's something oddly sad about it all. You can't help but wonder what occurred here—was this done after the world fell? An attempt at seeking answers or protection? You place the book down with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart.

The storm has picked up by the time you ascend the ladder. Dark clouds blanket the woods around you. You gaze around the cabin, something in the stale air feels like it's changed, like time has stopped. It's probably just paranoia, but you can't shake the feeling. The rain pours down harder, as if it's trying to soothe you, and you close the trapdoor with a thud.

No, something is definitely wrong. Your eyes flick around the dark cabin, a shiver creeping up your spine. You force it back down, but the feeling of someone watching you remains. The deep shadows of the room have you patting around for your flashlight, but it's not where you left it.

You practically jump out of your skin as lightning cracks overhead, briefly illuminating the tall, winged figure standing in the corner.

What the fuck.

You freeze momentarily before scrambling for your dagger, a habit the apocalypse built into you, only to remember you left it in your damn bag. The glowing outline of whoever—whatever—stains your vision, only disorienting you more.

You lunge for where you think you tossed your bag earlier, desperate for the comforting weight of your blade, but creature must realise what you're doing. A strong grip yanks you back by the ankle, dragging you along the rough floor until it has you pinned underneath its broad body. Pure terror rakes your body, your eyes wide and frantic. It's too dark to see any features on the dark mass above.

“I ain't gonna hurt ya.” The deep voice comes as another surprise, but you're not exacly reassured by it. You aren't sure how long you lay there, panting, until its hold on you eventually loosens. The moment it does, you crawl back until you hit the wall. Your flashlight bumps against your foot, and you snatch it up, quickly shining it towards the creature.

He's… surprisingly human-looking, aside from the horns poking through his hair, black wings stretching behind him, and the long, thin tail. He flinches at the bright light, still slouched on the floor. Then you notice something else, the fact he's completely naked. Breathing suddenly feels difficult again as you have to force your eyes to stay above his waistline because Jesus Christ...

“What are you?” There's a noticeable shake in your voice as you ask. The winged man just looks a little irritated, and if you're purposely bothering him with stupid questions.

“Stop pointing that thing at me,” he ignores your inquiry as he squints.

“Not until you tell me.” You can't help feeling proud about not letting your voice shake this time. Although he hasn't hurt you yet, you still feel on edge.

He just scoffs like you're an idiot. “An incubus, darlin’. You brought me here, remember?” A what? You what?

Your eyes scan over him again, inspecting his inhuman aspects as if trying to confirm. Did you hit your head? Wait, obviously this has something to do with that creepy shrine. There was likely a reason it was boarded up; seems like you found it. Your eyes fall lower, not even really processing where you're looking until you notice him smirking in your peripheral. A blush crawls onto your cheeks; that was not your intention, regardless of whatever this demon guy thinks. “Stop.”

“I ain't done anythin’.” He looks so smug at your unease, your gut coils at the sight—with anxiety, but maybe something else, too.

“You're looking at me like you wanna eat me,” his smirk widening makes you regret ever opening your mouth, “what do you even want?”

“What do I want? You summoned me here.”

“I don't know anything about that, okay?” It's getting increasingly more difficult to keep your eye level appropriate. With the initial fear simmering, you can actually take in how attractive he is—which maybe is a given considering he's a literal sex demon.

“Well that's obvious, haven't had a human pass through in a while. I'm pretty hungry.” You can see the truth to his claim, something sinister swirling within his irises. He chuckles as you get lost in them for a second.

“I don't... I'm not…” You don't even know what to do or say next, torn between the urge to flee and being frozen in place. For now you focus on getting to your feet. “Okay. Shit, fuck, okay… Do you have a name?”

The incubus raises an eyebrow but nods, “Daryl.” Less biblical than you were expecting, but you return his nod. You attempt to reassure yourself; this situation didn't have to be weird or dangerous. But once you close your eyes to take a deep breath, Daryl is nowhere to be seen once you reopen them. Your heart drops into your stomach again as you stumble forward a few steps. Were you actually hallucinating? Maybe you really fell down the ladder and received a nasty head wound. Right as you place the flashlight hesitantly on the table, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back into a broad, muscular chest. Your breath hitches, and you tense as one of Daryl's hands firmly grips your chin.

You don't even realise you're whimpering quietly in fear until he shushes you. One of his fingers slides between your lips to rest against your tongue. “Fuck… I'm so hungry,” his voice is a raspy whisper against your ear. “Can ya be a good little girl for me?” Despite your unease, you feel yourself throb at the words. Not that you're to blame. He is an incubus, after all. Nothing wrong with giving in, you tell yourself.

The feeling of his cock pressing against your back makes you bite down slightly on his finger. This was kinda fucked up, if you thought about it for too long. But you were already tempted to throw caution to the wind. Maybe it's curiosity, frustration after being pent up for so long, or maybe he's got some crazy demon powers. Did you even care? His finger presses more firmly against your tongue as his free hand trails upwards, tugging and tearing at your top until he exposes your chest. His tail curls around your thigh, trapping you close. The way his thumb rubs and pinches at your nipples makes you squirm instinctively as his hips grind against yours. He continues until you're aching, desperate for any amount of friction, your knuckles turning white with how hard you're clutching the table in front of you.

Eventually, he removes his finger from your mouth, stepping back only long enough to yank your pants down. He drags the moistened finger over your clit, chuckling gruffly as you buck up against his hand. A strangled gasp escapes your mouth. “Yeah, baby girl, ya like that?” He presses himself against your back again, this time sliding his dick between your squeezed, wet thighs. His length presses hotly against your cunt, and you can practically feel him throbbing against you.

You feel any remaining hesitance crumble, giving way to complete desperation as Daryl fucks your thighs. He's massive, bigger than any human you'd seen. Right as you feel your orgasm building, he pulls away again to drag you towards the small cot in the corner. You nearly trip trying to kick off your pants completely on the way. The incubus practically throws you onto the bed, immediately climbing over you to capture your lips in a messy, heated kiss.

His taste is enchanting, distracting you until you feel the head of his dick push into your entrance. You reluctantly pull away with a whine at the stretch. “W-Wai..t,” but he doesn't stop, only pushing in further as he holds your chin. “I got ya, baby girl.” Your head falls back as he thrusts deeper, pulling drawn out moans from your lips. He grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to your stomach. Your confusion dissipates to disbelief as you feel the outline of his length press against your palm with each thrust. You're surprised you don't come right then and there. “H-Holy shit,” you barely manage to pant out.

“Takin’ it so well, it's like ya made for me,” the incubus grunts out. He buries his head into your neck, his fangs dragging shyly across your sensitive skin, as if he's holding back from hurting you. His grip on your hips is firm, dragging you down in time with his thrusts as they grow rougher. Your own hands slide up his body, exploring his strong chest and large biceps. His horns intrigue you, curiously wrapping your hands around them like they're handles. Daryl grunts in pleasure, pushing against you even more. He holds you down, fucking you hard until you're squeezing around him and coming with a yell. A deep, satisfied sigh leaves your lips as he pulls away. Your body already feels weak from the effort.

Before you can relax fully, a hot wetness slides up your folds. “Daryl!” Your voice quivers with sensitivity. You struggle to sit up on your elbows to look where his head is buried between your thighs. His tongue is precise, lapping up your juices and circling around your clit with practised perfection. It seems he's larger than a human in every aspect. He presses kisses up your stomach to your chest, long tongue sliding over your nipple before reaching your mouth. “Ya taste so good,” he whispers against your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, fingers roaming over his wide shoulders as he kisses you.

His strong arms flip you over without warning, pressing your face into the pillow as he shoves back inside you with a grunt. The cot shakes with force as he ruts against you, his chest pressing against your back. You feel caged, completely at this monster's mercy, and it's the hottest thing you've ever experienced. His wings fall around you like some kind of dark waterfall, and his tail snakes up to press against your clit. And fuck, if it isn't the most intense pleasure you've felt in your life—it's overwhelming. Daryl angles deeper, harder, and your mind completely blanks. His fingers slide into your mouth again, holding your jaw open as he fucks with animalistic thrusts. You come so hard the room spins.

Then you jolt awake, not even remembering falling asleep. The cabin is empty, void of any sign of the incubus. Your eyes scan the room as you struggle to sit up. Every inch of your body aches. An acute tiredness spreading through your limbs. As you glance down at your nakedness, at least you can be sure what happened wasn't your imagination.

[shybunnie20]

BFF!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

friends to lovers

★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie calls on you to help him plan his first date, and you wish that you were the one going on it with him.

Author's Note: This isn't quite as polished as I'd like it to be. But, I'm pushing through my last few weeks of college, so I'm working with the few brain cells I've got left lol. I still love how it turned out and the ending is worth all of the self-loathing, I promise.

No use of Y/N, est. friendship, ages aren’t specified but E & R are approx. in their early twenties & it’s an early 90s AU, Reader has never been asked on a date before. Mild angst with happy ending!

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: Reader dwells on poor self-worth & feels undesirable, acts of eating and multiple mentions of food, includes swearing.

Nestled in the quaint corner of Campbell Ave and 2nd Street, you’re engrossed in a call with a customer, jotting down an order for two bouquets consisting of pink-white lilies and snapdragons. Your eyes follow the effortless glide of your glitter gel pen across the paper, detailing their contact information.

Similarly to Goldilocks, you’ve found a place of employment where the pace is just right. You can handle whatever tasks Joan, the owner, asks of you. Sweeping the wood floors with a stiff-bristled broom, tending to the plants, and arranging flowers adorned with decorative ribbon and crisp paper are all within your grasp.

This place gets steady business, but the concept of a lunch or dinner rush is nonexistent. However, you do face a unique kind of rush occasionally. Now and then, a frantic lover bursts through the doors, bug-eyed, having realized they’ve forgotten a special anniversary or birthday at the very last minute. 

As you recite the customer’s order and callback number into the phone’s receiver, their confirmational “uh huhs” cut through the buzz of the line. Suddenly, your attention is diverted by the sight of a van pulling into the parking spot out front, slightly askew. A small smile teases the corners of your mouth as you make a conscious effort to refocus on closing the conversation at hand.

The plastic shell of the phone clacks as you hang up, and you watch Eddie hop out of his van, and round the front of it with an unusual pep in his step—more than you’d see his best days.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Eddie’s voice carries across the room, accompanied by a genuine smile that lights up his face. He strides to the register counter you’re currently manning, wearing a vermillion polo shirt embellished with the neatly embroidered String and Strum shop logo on the breast. His hair is pushed back from his face with a black bandana, resembling a biker-like edge, tied firmly to ensure no stray curls disrupt his work as he repairs guitars and sells instruments for commission.

In seconds flat, he’s already scrunching his nose like a bunny, sensing a sneeze on the horizon. Being in a room packed with fresh plants is nothing short of hell, but he’s willing to endure it for the sake of seeing you. While he can handle flowers in small quantities, the confined space never fails to tickle his system like nobody’s business.

Vision blurring with mild irritation, Eddie blinks hard to disperse it. “Hey, how’s today going?”

You shrug, suppressing a giggle at the wiggle of his nose. “As good as it can, I guess. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

Eddie sets a grease-stained paper bag on the counter that separates you, along with a cup of soda. “Figured you could use a midday pick-me-up.”

“Must be my lucky day because I overslept and didn’t have time to pack a lunch. Well, that and I found a penny on the sidewalk.”

Eddie crosses his arms and tilts his head. “Don’t give luck all the credit. I have instinctual powers, y’know. My Munson senses were tingling and I knew you were in need.”

“My hero,” You exclaim, clasping your hands and swinging them to the side like a swooning princess. 

Eddie chuckles with you, watching as you wipe your palms on your apron and eagerly dig into the bag, pulling out a foam to-go box. As you promptly open it and take a bite of your lunch, you can’t help but groan and throw your head back in satisfaction. Your eyes meet his thereafter, causing him to twist his mouth to the side and momentarily look away.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask, your words slightly muffled as you continue to chew.

Minnie, Joan’s cat, gracefully leaps onto the counter to greet Eddie. She perches herself beside the cash register, allowing him to scratch under her chin. “Nothin, consider it a favor,” He says with a wet sniffle, the tingling in his nose unrelenting.

The silence that falls is comfortable for you, but he’s seemingly lost in his thoughts as he continues to pet Minnie. Then, he looks at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Speaking of which, I just so happen to know a way that you can return the favor.”

Having taken a sip from your drink and another bite of your food, the inflection of Eddie’s voice causes you to slow your chewing. “And what might that be?”

“Come over later to find out.”

Your shoulders slump, eyes widened with mock defeat. “No! I can’t stand here and wonder all day. I'll die. The suspense will kill me.”

Eddie pouts mockingly, his sweet honey eyes betraying his faux-frown. “Then I'll be sure to have the prettiest floral arrangement for your funeral. Only the best for you.”

Your brows knit together in an authentic pouting. The irony of needing to meet an untimely demise to receive flowers from a guy isn’t lost on you.

He motions toward the untrimmed bundle of carnations on the workbench behind you. “Actually, if you’re not too busy,” Eddie smirks. “Could you string those up for me quick so they’re ready to go for your wake?”

“Ha-ha,” you leer, taking the next bite of your food rather aggressively. “You’re cruel, you know that?”

“I beg to differ since I surprised you with your favorite from Val’s and all,” Eddie retorts, biting the inside of his cheek.

You grumble, “Yeah, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Eddie checks his watch and huffs, “Alright, I’ve gotta get goin’,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the countertop and beginning to walk backward. “See you later tonight,” He points at you before spinning on his heel and exiting the shop.

The bulky keyring on Eddie’s jeans jingles loudly as he steps onto the sidewalk. Abruptly, he stops in his tracks. For a moment he’s frozen, and then he braces himself against the nearby lamppost. It hits him like a brick wall and he sneezes mightily. 

Heads of nearby passersby turn in his direction, startled by the noise. As he straightens his posture, Eddie remains still, trying to find his center of gravity and regain his composure.

“You good?” You call out, your voice just barely reaching him through the propped-open doors. Taking a casual sip of your drink, you watch as Eddie steadies himself. Still clutching the street lamp with one hand, he manages to stick his other arm out and give a thumbs-up.

True to your word, you arrive at Eddie’s place straight after work. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow through the patio door onto the walls of the living room. The apartment is in its usual state of disarray, expectedly so, since it’s home to three guys who aren’t particularly concerned with tidiness.

Toeing off your shoes, you’re unphased by the subtle smell of dust in the air. What strikes you as odd is how quiet it is. Typically, at least one roommate is home, blasting the TV in the living room or music from their respective bedrooms. But the only sound permeating the silence is the erratic thumping and screech of the water pipes behind the paper-thin walls of the bathroom.  

As you snoop around the kitchen, hoping to find a box of saltine crackers or really anything to stop the gurgling in your belly. Having come up empty-handed, you turn your attention to the resilient plant that you challenged Eddie to care for—Keanu Leaves, as he so proudly named it. 

Finished with your fruitless search of the kitchen, you make your way into Eddie’s bedroom to settle comfortably into the chair that only you sit in; it’s your spot. While you get cozy, the beans rattle as they perfectly mold to your figure. You knock on the wall beside you, signaling your arrival to Eddie.

You resume the magazine left sitting open on the page you stopped on. You occupy yourself in the article about predicted spring fashion trends as you wait. After a minute or two, the pipes go quiet from the shower being turned off.

Eddie strolls into the room wearing nothing more than a clean pair of boxers. Droplets of water trickle down his toned and tatted chest. Harshly ruffling his curls with a bath towel, he smirks at you. “If it isn’t Little Miss Zombie, back from the dead.”

“Less than alive and in the flesh,” you reply, your annoyance at being made to wait all day still evident. You hold grudges better than anyone he knows, and Eddie is well aware that he’s not immune to being subject to it.

Your tummy rumbles loudly, the discomfort only emphasizing the sharpness of your tone. “When was the last time you got groceries? I didn’t see any preserved brains I could help myself to.”

“I’m definitely due for a restock,” Eddie says as he drapes his wet towel over the back of his desk chair. Then, he grabs the bottle of mousse from his dresser and dispenses a foamy dollop into his palm. “Funny you should ask, though. That’s sorta why you’re here.”

You flip the page of your magazine, not pulling your eyes from the glossy print. “You told me to come over to go grocery shopping?”

Eddie rubs his palms together to spread the product and then runs his fingers through his curls. “Not quite,” he starts, his tone cryptic. “I’ve been tasked with providing a meal, of sorts.” 

Finally, you look up at him. Watching him scrunch his damp hair with the remainder of the product that’s making his palms go tacky, you wait for him to elaborate.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the other side of the room, rather than meeting your awaiting gaze. “I have a date.”

You stare blankly at the back of his head, as still as a statue while your blinking intensifies. Dumbfounded, you struggle to survive the bombshell he just dropped on you. It’s as if a nuclear explosion has shattered your eardrums, leaving his continued words to sound muffled through the high-pitched ringing.

A million and one questions swirl in your mind, only adding to the disorienting whirlwind of emotions. Since when is he dating? Why all of a sudden? As you try to piece everything together, you note that he hasn’t had any recent romantic interactions, at least none that you’re aware of.

You always thought he’d confide in you if he was seeing someone, but now you’re not so sure; especially since you’re only finding out about this now. Without a doubt, Eddie has never had trouble attracting attention. But he’s always seemed so content with the ways things are. So why now?

Eddie turns to face you, a splash of desperation in his eyes. “I feel like doing this is the best way to know if she likes me back.”

Your mouth has gone dry, and you try to sound more curious than interrogative, but it doesn’t quite come off that way. “Who is this mystery woman, anyway?” A couple of names come to mind, some of the most beautiful girls in town—none of whom you hold a candle to.

His side of the room falls quiet when he’s hit with your question. Eddie’s eyes drop to the carpet. While it might seem like he’s lost in thought, it’s actually a glaring sign of evasion. You can’t help but feel a little hurt by his reluctance to tell you who it is.

A small smile forms as he leans back against his dresser, as though he can’t keep himself upright during his current daydream. Folding his arms across his pecs and rubbing his jaw, eyes still downcast, Eddie begins to gush about her. “She’s just- god, she’s something else. The way she laughs, it’s like... the sun coming out after a storm.”

“Sounds like quite the catch,” you mutter, trying to keep your tone neutral. You watch closely as blush tints Eddie’s cheeks and his smile threatens to grow. Without saying another word, Eddie walks out and returns to the bathroom.

You’re quick to follow, hopping up from your chair. “Do I know her?”

“Technically, yeah,” Eddie answers. Standing in front of the foggy mirror, he wipes it with the back of his forearm. Then, he starts rummaging through the counter drawer for his pair of shears.

You stand just outside the open door, the lingering humidity from his scorching hot shower kissing your skin as it disperses into the hallway. Leaning back against the wall, you cross your arms like he did moments ago, albeit far more tensely. Technically? It must be one of your ex-friends, then. That would explain why he’s been keeping you in the dark.

It’s your duty to be supportive, but right now, you could hurl. The thick nausea swirling deep in your gut is a storm raging within, overpowering your ability to stay present.

While trimming his bangs over the basin, the shears glint in the hushed light of the wall sconce. Eddie steals a glance in your direction, but his eyes dart back to his reflection too quickly to catch the discomfort etched on your face. “So you’ll help me, right?”

As you watch yourself anxiously wiggling your toes inside your sock, you mumble, “I can't if you won’t tell me who it is.“

“Sure you can, you’re a girl. You know how this stuff works.”

You scoff, your brows shooting up as your head jerks back. You open your mouth to object, but he promptly cuts you off.

“Ah, ah! Slow your roll,” Eddie cautions, pointing the shears in your direction. “I’m not saying you’re all the same, but there’s gotta be some common ground of expectations, right?”

You don’t have the strength to argue, so you reluctantly allow for his generalization. “I guess so.”

“Like yeah, I could just study one of those lady magazines you’re always reading. But then I wouldn’t have a way of knowing what is and isn’t bullshit,” Eddie explains, his tone half-joking. “That’s why I’m going straight to the source, oh, wise one.”

Far too consumed with trying to narrow down who the chick could possibly be, you can’t be bothered to give him a huff of amusement through your nose. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Nope,” The shears hit the countertop, their metallic resonance echoing against the porcelain. He pivots to face you, hands resting on his hips. “Alright, Sherlock. How about you quit trying to crack the case and help me pick out a tie.”

“A what now?” You squawk, eyes widening in disbelief.

Eddie chuckles softly and rinses the hair trimmings down the drain, then flicks off the bathroom light. “I have to dress for the occasion. This is a big deal for me,” he elaborates as he strides back into his room. “For her and me.”

Once again, you find yourself on his tail, trailing close behind back into his bedroom. You unfold your arms and instead, start to rub the inside of your wrist with your opposite thumb. “Yeah, I get that. Just seems a bit out of character for you.”

Rifling through his closet, Eddie pulls out a hanger with a navy button-up shirt and nonchalantly tosses it onto the end of his bed. “Maybe, but at least she’ll know I’m taking this seriously,” Eddie says while reaching for the high shelf to retrieve a tattered shoebox. Lifting the lid, he presents it to you. “Here’s what we’re working with.”

You step closer, your fingers deftly plucking out the rolled ties one by one, laying them flat beside the slightly wrinkled shirt. Side by side, your shoulders nearly brush. Meticulously comparing the patterns and colors, neither of you seems drawn to any particular one.

“Here, maybe it’s better to do it this way,” Eddie suggests, picking up and beginning to slip into the shirt. His thick fingers falter as he attempts to maneuver each small white button through its corresponding hole. Once halfway dressed—having tastefully paired his plaid boxers with a dress shirt—he smooths out the material from his chest to his belly.

Eddie reaches for the nearest tie and lays it against his shoulder. He faces you expectantly, anticipation evident in his gaze, awaiting your feedback.

Your eyes flit between the tie he’s holding, the array laid out on the bed, and the hopefulness in his round eyes. “These are easily the three ugliest ties I've ever seen. No offense.”

He blows a playful raspberry at your harsh criticism and shakes his head. “None taken, they’re not mine. But Wayne might be a little hurt when I call him next and tell him you said that.”

Shooting him a pointed look, your brows furrow in skepticism. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I just might,” Eddie teases with a smile before turning his attention back to the bed. He tosses the first tie aside and reaches for the mustard paisley one. “What about this one, does it compliment my eyes?” He bats his dark brown lashes.

You clutch your chin in contemplation, carefully assessing the combination of hues. However, the richness of his chocolate irises captures you. You wade in their depths. The hot flash that envelops your body is enough to break the trance he inadvertently put you under. With a disapproving shake of your head, you dismiss this tie as well. “Nope, next.”

Eddie looks at you for a moment longer, even though you’re not doing the same. A faint frown creases his features as he tosses the vetoed tie aside, forming a rejection pile.

You pick up the remaining tie and drape it over his shoulder, admiring the harmonious pairing of the navy in the tie with the shirt, accentuated by its white and black diagonal stripes. While you ponder, Eddie watches your face intently, holding his breath.

You nod, a trace of delighted approval in your expression. “We have a winner.”

“Hell yeah, blue on blue it is,” Eddie exclaims. He wraps the tie around the back of his neck but struggles to recall the proper technique for tying it. Attempting a few different nonsensical loopings, he groans, his determination waning. “Stupid son of a bitch, wouldya just-”

“Don’t hurt yourself. Let me do it," You offer. Not receiving protest, you step closer to him.

Eddie uses one hand to gather his product-enhanced curls into a makeshift ball, allowing you to access the collar of his shirt. He juts out his freshly shaved chin, granting you ample room to work. Standing this closely, you catch the clean scent of shaving cream lingering on his skin.

You begin to effortlessly tie the knot. Without pausing to consider what you’re about to say, the words spill from your lips, “Why’re you asking for my opinion on stuff like this, anyway? You should be doing what you think she’ll like, not me.”

“You always know best,” Eddie’s expression softens to something more vulnerable. “When you’re taking the next step in a relationship, you want everything to be as perfect as it can be, y’know?”

It’s common sense to him. No one understands him like you do, making you the perfect person for navigating this nerve-wracking experience. But for you, it’s perplexing. You’ve never been on a proper, formal date. The idea of one remains an unfulfilled pipe dream. Yet, here you are, agreeing to help Eddie plan his.

Your only frame of reference comes from romance movies and horror stories of dates gone wrong recounted by your girlfriends. Of all the things you could be in the world, you find yourself an unassuming tree. Sturdy and dependable, sure. You serve your purpose. But you don’t captivate onlookers with blooming petals like flowers do. Instead, you take pride in your intricately branched personality, valuing it as your true strength that often goes overlooked.

Even so, it feels as though your traits fail to enchant others regardless; nobody seems willing. You go unnoticed, and you’ve come to terms with that.

Beautiful wildflowers get plucked from the ground and carried away to be cherished. Meanwhile, you simply exist, rooted in no man’s land, devoid of admirers. You may stand tall, but you’re easily overshadowed by what other women have to offer.

Perhaps this is why you like working at the flower shop. It’s somewhat cathartic to witness the delicate petals fall from time to time. It brings you a strange sense of satisfaction to hack away at their stems. The best part, though? While it’s a little twisted, you know that those flowers that dazzle in their pristine state are destined to wilt. They’ll shrivel and brown.

Whilst among your shared group of friends in public, you’ve witnessed Eddie getting nudged by one of the guys to direct his attention to a smoke show walking by. You watched as they bit their knuckles and exaggeratedly gawked. You don’t compare, it’s not even apples to oranges. It’s like… apples to rocks. A delicious, shiny fruit compared to you, mere clunky chunks of earth.

If life were an album, you’re the track that everyone skips within seconds of hearing the intro. Except for those rare moments when someone half-listens by accident and they resonate with you—that’s how you and Eddie became friends. He’d stumbled upon his new favorite song, one worth revisiting. What he sees in you is what everyone else overlooks.

Eddie is the only man on the face of the earth who treats you like you’re worth being around. Only an oddball would prefer to spend time lounging beneath the shade of a crooked tree instead of homing a rose in a crystal vase. That’s one thing you love about your best friend; he doesn’t make you feel like you fade into the background.

All fairytale cliché bullshit included, you want to be sought out in a crowd. You want to light up the room for someone. Much to your dismay, that can happen platonically too, and it has in this case.

If Eddie only knew how much the little moments matter to you—the ones where he makes you feel prioritized and valued. You know you’re not anything close to special or remarkable, but he always made you second guess that thought.

Obviously, you hadn’t meant to fall for him. It was kind of like catching a cold; one day, there was a tickle in the back of your throat that you didn’t usually feel. Unsuspecting, the days went on, and that sensation only worsened. You started to panic a little but ultimately continued to deny your worst thoughts.

Before you knew it, you were bedridden, bitten by the love bug. You didn’t go down without a fight. You thought that you could be strong and deny it access to your heart, but it had already invaded. So, all you could do was wait it out.

You tried to distance yourself, hoping to recover and act like nothing ever changed inside of you. But Eddie didn’t let you get too far away.

It wasn’t love at first sight, rather, a creeping plague. There was no swooning and giggling, no struggling to keep your hands to yourself. The change was undetectable. You were a frog in boiling water, unaware of the gradually rising temperature until it was far too late.

It wasn’t until your chest started to ache every time you said goodbye at the end of spending time together that you realized you were in too deep. You genuinely debated going to the doctor to get the pang checked out, but luckily you didn’t. Otherwise, you’d have wasted a good chunk of money to find out that you’re a lovesick idiot.

Unfortunately, this is an illness you’ve been stuck with since, and you’ve at least learned how to distract yourself from it. But when you fail to do so, your imagination wanders. Naturally, you’ve wondered if pressing a mere kiss to his cheek would burn everything to the ground.

The forbidden territory beckons, tempting you to envision breaking those unspoken agreed-upon rules that forbid things like hand-holding and cuddling. The two of you uphold mutual respect, adhering to the expectations of friendship. Both of you reserve that level of touch for expressions of romantic affection. Actions such as those have no place in a true friendship.

That’s the most confusing part of this for you. How did you manage to catch such strong feelings for him when you’ve not crossed any lines? Sure, he’s a tactile person; maybe that has something to do with it. Eddie makes physical contact with those he trusts, but it’s not like he’s hanging off of you at any given moment. You receive the same treatment as the others in his inner circle: a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, and a brief gripping of the forearm to get your attention.

You’re not supposed to want the touches to be more frequent, much less of a different nature. The line has to be drawn somewhere, and it’s been plainly drawn in the sand. You understand and accept that. But why, of all lines in the world, does it have to be this one that you want to cross so badly?

Most of your days aren’t all that miserable. But there are those days that are more difficult than the rest, though it’s not his fault. Last weekend, the two of you were at a mall, and some chick waved at him flirtily. He returned it immediately, though playfully enough that it was almost mocking. He was fucking around and had no intention of entertaining the idea of approaching her. Regardless, it was humbling for you, to say the least.

In that moment, the world reminded you that there’s a reason you walk at his side at a respectable distance, not tucked under his arm. If anything, it’s for the best. There’s a sense of liberation in admiring him without the burden of articulating your feelings. There’s no pressure to meet a girlfriend quota or live up to a higher standard. What Eddie expects of you now is what you’re capable of, and clearly, all that you’re good for. You’re good for filling the void, but apparently not so much anymore.

You’re not lustrous and aching to jump his bones, and you’re certainly not desperate enough to kiss him on a whim by not allowing yourself to overthink it. But perhaps you are just desperate enough that a man simply paying your emotions, interests, and existence of any mind can shackle you to him. That has to be what’s done you in; Eddie gives a shit about you.

In reality, there’s more to it than that. Eddie is selective about who and what he lets in. He doesn’t care for conformity and lack of individuality. The idea of blending in with the majority of society repulses him. You find the flawed aspects of the Munson doctrine fascinating and raw. He’s not perfect and Eddie doesn’t care what others think of him, to a degree.

Not unlike you, he’s complex. Eddie is anti-establishment but still prefers a bit of structure over chaos in his day-to-day life. He’s independent and cynical as hell, but he’s also appreciative of his support systems and isn’t ashamed to rely on them. He’s not much of a rule breaker nor is he rebellious, but he’ll happily stir up a little trouble in good fun if given the opportunity.

Eddie is a hypocrite in some ways and a walking contradiction in others. You love that he’s unapologetic about being that way. He owns it for the most part, and you admire that.

His presence overstays its welcome in your thoughts. You’ve often yearned for him to call you in the dead of night, admitting that he can’t sleep without the sound of your voice. Many times, you’ve fought the urge to do that. He owes you sleep, countless nights of it. It’s a debt that will never be repaid, an outstanding balance.

Despite the attempts at trying to talk yourself out of it, you still can’t bring yourself to stop loving him. Even as he’s actively pursuing someone else, you’re unable to shake this. You could be paralyzed from head to toe, and you’d still feel the love you have for him in your bones.

Once Eddie is officially with someone, he won’t have much time or energy left for you. The anticipation of being thrown aside for something new and far prettier has shattered your heart before any changes have occurred. Yet, any fragment of his presence surpasses total absence. The greed isn’t worth it, and you know you should be grateful for getting any piece of him at all.

The phrase fizzles on the tip of your tongue like a smoldering ember, threatening to sear through the muscle… I’m happy for you.

You should say it, but you can’t. Because if you did, that would be a blatant lie. It’s not even possessiveness that has you so bitter, it’s envy. You wish you were in her place.

“There,” you adjust the knot with a delicate tug, ensuring its tightness before letting the material slip through your fingers. Unable to meet his appreciative gaze, you offer a sad smile and take a half-step backward.

Your sigh, cleverly concealed as a deep breath, escapes as you settle back into your chair with a plop. “So, um,” you begin, picking at your cuticles absentmindedly. “Where are you taking her? Somewhere fancy?”

“Nah,” Eddie meticulously revamps his curls one final time in the mirror, wanting them to fall just right. Then, with great care, he tames his bangs to lay perfectly in place. “She’s gonna come over here. I thought it’d be more intimate. Besides, I can’t exactly swing a reservation right now. I’ve been tight on cash this week.”

Your fingers come to a halt, the stinging sensation apparent. Looking over at him, your eyes meet his in the reflection. “Ya big dummy, you shouldn’t have bought me lunch when that money could’ve gone toward buying her a nice dinner.”

“Don’t start with that shit,” Eddie warns as he digs through his dresser in search of pants to wear. “I’m happy to do that for you,” He adds, pulling a pair of dark jeans from the bottom drawer.

“It really did make my day, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Having donned his pants, he nears his desk where his black grommet belt lies on the floor. Eddie threads his belt through the loops of his jeans, the buckle jingling before he secures it in place. “I felt better knowing you were taken care of.”

It’s only now occurring to you what he’s implied, and you think how absurd it is for him to host a dinner when he’s culinarily challenged. “Wait, since when do you cook?”

“Oh, I don’t. But you do.”

“Hardly,” you scoff, downplaying your abilities. Placing your magazine back in your lap, you flip the page despite not having read it. Unexpectedly, you feel the urge to quell his enthusiasm, to set him up for failure by trying to poke holes in his plan. “I mean, food is one thing, but atmosphere is another. Aren’t the guys going to be here?”

Eddie moves the clutter on his desk around in a quest to find something. “I kicked them out for the night.”

Like a spear plunged into your chest, you swallow hard. Not only is he having a girl over for dinner, but he’s gone out of his way to guarantee privacy because he’s hoping to get lucky too. More than likely right there, on that very bed, feet away from you. The cramped twin-sized mattress, where they’ll inevitably be body to body.

He turns to you after locating what he was searching for, fastening the slightly fancier watch around his wrist; it only supersedes his casio due to it being analog, as opposed to digital. “I’ve been wanting to try that dish you keep raving about. You can teach me how to make it. Two birds, one stone.”

“It’s not difficult, you could handle the recipe,” You shrug away the opportunity to cook with him because the domesticity of it would more than likely kill you.

“I wanna do it together,” his voice softens, genuinely asking as nicely as he’s capable. “Please.”

“Sure, yeah,” you maintain your downcast gaze and slump back in the chair, wishing for a black hole to open and swallow you up. “What if she doesn’t like it, or what if you don’t?”

“If you like it then it has to be good.”

Eddie’s seemingly endless compliments cause no sense of flattery. Instead, you’re consumed with persisting nausea as you envision a stunning girl seated across from him while they share laughter and partake in unspeakable activities in this very room.

Abruptly, a wave of heat washes over you, causing the soles of your feet and your palms to grow clammy. The scent of newly sprayed Old Spice floods the room and you’re overwhelmed by it, struggling to draw a breath. “I’ll be right back,” You all but choke on your words, swiftly rising to your feet and hastily leaving. Eddie watches curiously as you do.

In the living room, you push the heavy sliding door aside, stepping out onto the balcony to catch your breath. You inhale as deep as physically possible, and the stirring evening breeze cools the hot tears gathered along your lash line. Cars pass by, and you distract yourself by watching a person leisurely walking their dog. You do everything in your power to divert your thoughts away from him and the impending date.

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from his room and slides open the door to the balcony, poking his head out to check on you. “Y’ready to go?” The shift in your energy is immediately evident to him, though he can’t quite pinpoint what’s amiss. He figures you’ve had a long day and you’re tired from your shift. Maybe you’re a little hangry, too.

With your arms folded on the balcony rail, you continue to look out into the neighborhood. “Go where?” 

“The store, duh. We’ve gotta get ingredients, do we not?” He says to the back of your head.

You nod meekly before turning to face him. “Right. Yeah, I’m ready.”

Eddie flashes a warm smile before sliding the door open wide enough for you to pass through. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand then, hot stuff. We’re losing daylight,” He says, striding toward the front door.

Arguably, you’re not losing daylight fast enough. You wish the sun would fall from the sky. That way, it would always be dark and you could hide in the shadows forever. You follow him inside and slide the closed with a subdued thud.

His car keys drag and jingle while he swipes them off of the counter. Once he reaches the entryway, Eddie drops the keys on the floor beside him as he kneels to put on his sneakers. A few seconds later, you’ve joined him to do the same. Eddie glances at you as he feels the evening breeze that slipped in finally reaching this side of the room. “It’s a little chilly out, wanna borrow a hoodie or something?”

Quickly tying your shoes to avoid prolonged eye contact, you get to your feet, hugging yourself as you do. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Eddie snorts and stands, his shoes now tied as well. “I’m getting you one,” He insists and heads to his room, gesturing for you to follow.

“I said I’ll be fine without one,” You opt not to follow, instead calling out to him to compensate for the distance and his half-open door.

“Shut up, I’m getting you one and you’re gonna wear it ‘cause I said so,” his tone drips with feigned amusement at your stubbornness. “Come in here.”

As you step into the room, Eddie offers you the hoodie, watching as you just stare at it. “Sweetheart, put it on. You’re gonna freeze to death if you don’t. Then, I’ll have no choice but to cancel my super hot date because I’ll be too busy defrosting my ice sculpture of a best friend with a blow drier. You want me to blow you all night? I know you-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll put the damn thing on,” you say, begrudgingly taking it from him. “Happy?”

“Try elated,” Eddie smiles from ear to ear and winks at you, content that you’re allowing him to do what he deems best for you, knowing you’re too stubborn to do so for yourself. He’s got your back, always. Even if it means enduring a bit of attitude in the process. Eddie likes that about you, he always has. With a final glance, he leaves the room, flicking off the light switch.

Left standing in the dark bedroom, you blindly navigate the article of clothing to locate the opening. However, as soon as you go to put it on, it occurs to you that this hoodie is not fresh out of the wash.

The distant floral scent left behind by dryer sheets mingles with his natural aroma, enveloping you as you pull the sweatshirt over your head. He grabbed whatever was at hand, inadvertently submerging you back into the very sensory experience you fled from. The spicy notes from his cologne turn you into a human lava lamp, effectively melting you on the inside.

The mingling of Old Spice, tobacco smoke, his unique essence, and a hint of spring meadow flood your mind. You consider the idea of keeping the hoodie. You could tell him that you forgot to return it, and he’ll forget about it. Eddie can afford to lose one hoodie, he’d survive.

“Let’s go!” He barks, impatience peaking as nerves gnaw at him with each passing minute bringing him closer to the dinner.

Exiting his bedroom, you find Eddie stationed at the front door, propping it open with his foot. Once within his view, you extend your arms and twist your expression to emphasize your annoyed compliance.

“One last thing,” Eddie withdraws his foot, causing the door to slam shut, its latch clanging twice against the wood from the force. He reaches out and pulls the hood up, adjusting it to cover most of your head. “There.”

You stick your tongue out at him, your grin eliciting one from him in return. “Alright, let’s-” He begins, but instead of turning, he fakes you out and grabs both drawstrings. Eddie tugs them, causing the hood to cinch tightly around your face.

“You’re an ass,” You whine.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie turns around to leave this time and holds the front door open for you. “You’re stuck with me.”

With a narrowed glare, you fix the hood and your hair on your way out of the apartment. Eddie is close behind, closing the door and locking it. You take the opportunity to collect yourself and adopt a supportive, cheerful demeanor.

These are gonna be the longest two hours of your life.

You can’t fucking believe it. You’re preparing a meal for another woman, and doing so willingly. You tried to guide him through the prep process, but he grew frustrated. Now, he’s on dish duty, conquering the mountain of dirty dishes piled up on the counter. 

She may be getting a delicious and intimate dinner, but at least you get moments like these. But soon enough, she’ll have them too. If everything goes to plan, the memories of these moments will be all you have left of Eddie. As you lose yourself in the sound of his voice, the ramblings about a sale he made at work eventually circle back to the topic of his evening.

As he excitedly goes on, his voice carries a boyish enthusiasm. Unseen by you, Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet while standing at the sink. Ten minutes seem to fly by unnoticed as you both focus on your tasks.

After taking the food out of the oven, his demeanor flips like a switch. “Oh, it’s time for me to leave apparently,” you acknowledge, barely having the chance to take off the oven mitt all the way before he’s practically pushing you out of the apartment. “Be sure to heat it up at 375 degrees,” You suggest as you struggle to put on your shoes fast enough.

“Sure thing,” Eddie confirms, “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

“Looking forward to it,” You lie. Eddie waves you off before closing the front door. Left standing alone in the eerily quiet hallway, you feel foolish.

Finally arriving home, you crawl onto your bed. The weight of reality crashes down upon you, and you physically collapse under the weight of your emotions. The pain in your chest burns up the back of your throat as you sob. This was a harsh wake-up call, but it’s what you needed to finally confront yourself.

It’s better this way. Not having to reject you outright or politely turn you down, Eddie doesn’t have to hurt simply because you are. This is best because Eddie doesn’t have to feel guilty or pity you. Just as you’ve loved him in silence, you can grieve the loss of him in it too.

Ten minutes pass and just as you’re starting to drift asleep from exhaustion, your telephone rings. The ringing in the kitchen pulls you from your room. You drag your feet on the way there, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie sounds panicked, “Can you come back over? I forgot the most important fucking thing and-”

You cut him off, “Relax, I’ll be there in twelve,” Abruptly ending the call without another word, you rub your sore eyes, blow your stuffy nose, and splash your face with warm water. The last thing he needs is for his night to be ruined because he notices how hard you’ve been crying. If your feelings get in the way of him having a good time with the girl he’s head over heels for, then you don’t deserve his friendship.

Entering the building and letting yourself back into his apartment, you’re caught off guard by how different the space looks. He worked his butt off to tidy the living room and make certain that everything is presentable. Besides being notably neater, you also notice the faint smell of air freshener.

The apartment is blanketed in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering flames of candles and the light from the table lamp in the living room. Hushed music emanates from the record player in his room. It’s a genre you wouldn’t have expected him to own, because of how slow and romantic it sounds. You wonder whether he bought it specifically for this occasion.

Upon hearing the front door creak open, Eddie halts his pacing in the living room. “Thank god, you’re here.”

You teeter on the heels of your feet, feeling out of place in the carefully arranged setting that isn’t meant for you. “I really shouldn’t be. It’s quarter to seven, she’ll show up any minute now.”

Eddie makes his way over to you, rounding the dinner table and draping his arm along the back of the dining chair farthest from where you stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about that, she’s already here.”

Your eyes flit towards the bathroom, expecting to see a sliver of light escaping from beneath the door, yet the hallway is pitch black. There’s no dolled-up gal standing in his room either. You look back at him with a furrowed brow, confusion etched on your face. “Where, exactly?”

He can’t think of a time he’s ever had to remind himself how to breathe correctly. Eddie holds his hand out to you, his anxiety mounting. With hesitation, you extend your hand and place it in his. He wraps his trembling fingers around yours.

Rarely have you been in this position, and in those instances, it was never an act with deeper meaning. It’s only ever happened in urgent moments, like darting across a bustling street to avoid being separated—a mere safety measure.

Eddie’s attention fixates on your hands, willing them to respond to his touch. Then he notices your puffy, reddened eyes. “What’s the matter?” He asks, instinctively squeezing your joined hands.

“It’s stupid,” You pull away from him, retracting your hand to wipe away the smeared mascara beneath your eyes.

Rather than forcibly turning you to face him, Eddie gracefully moves around to stand in front of you once more. “I bet it’s not,” he says softly, his compassionate expression tinged with concern. He reaches for both of your hands this time, praying you can’t feel his pounding pulse through the contact.

Eddie delicately lifts your hands and peppers velvety kisses across the tops of your knuckles. The warmth of your skin against his lips sends a shiver shooting through his core, goosebumps rising across his body.

You emit a wet giggle from the shock, uncertainty, and embarrassment bubbling within you. “What the hell are you doing?”

He chuckles a little too, his eyes sparkling as they reflect the dancing flames behind you. “What’s it look like? This is all for you,” Eddie presses one more featherlight kiss to your hands before lowering them, but he doesn’t let go, keeping them securely in his own. “It’s our first date.”

You’re the prettiest little package of unusual. From the moment he first heard your song, he couldn’t shake you. Eddie couldn’t get your tune out of his system, but it’s not like he wanted to. Never before had anyone shown him such unconditional care; no one had ever gone out of their way to get to know him like you did. You’re the safest thing he’s ever known, but you’re also the scariest, in the best ways possible.

The thought of confessing how you make him complete, unlike anything he’s ever experienced, is nothing short of terrifying. Yet, the fear of not seizing the opportunity to love you outweighs the fear of rejection. There’s no turning back now.

Your eyes wander to the table, taking in the details: the thoughtfully arranged mismatched plates and silverware, the glasses filled with expensive wine. At the end of the kitchen island sits a teddy bear beside a bouquet. In addition to the flower petals, there are red, white, and pink balloons scattered across the floor.

You turn away before he can see your face contort, biting your lip harshly to suppress the sob rising in your throat. It’s all useless, though. A broken cry escapes your lips.

Eddie’s stomach lurches and pressure builds behind his own eyes. The change he just caused is palpable, the damage has been done. He releases both of your hands and plants his on the sides of his head, stepping away. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m such a fucking idiot. I read this all wrong, I thought-”

“You’re not and you didn’t,” you choke out. “They’re happy tears now.”

His frantic expression mellows out, his arms drop to his sides, and the tension in his body gradually dissipates. “Happy tears?”

You respond with a soft hum and nod, a grin forming as you admire the table setting and gifts once more before looking back at Eddie.

“Oh,” he chirps, wearing a cheek-splitting smile as he brings his palms to your face. He wipes away your fallen tears with his thumbs. Eddie studies your expression intently. “I didn’t mean to make you cry sad ones.”

“It’s not your fault,” You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his fingers calmingly swiping along the apples of your cheeks.

“It is and I’m sorry,” Eddie inches closer, his toes now touching yours. “I wanted it to be a surprise ‘cause I thought spontaneity would make it more memorable.”

You look at him questioningly. “It’s not exactly spontaneous when you had me cook my own dinner.”

“Fair enough. You’ve got me there,” Eddie thought it was a foolproof plan. If you made the food, there was no chance that you’d hate it. “I went about this all wrong, huh? I should scrap the whole thing and start from scratch,” He becomes distracted, his train of thought shifting to how he’s going to clean this up and figure out a different approach.

“Don’t do that. Just ask me,” you grasp his forearm to regain his attention. “Ask me out and maybe I'll say yes.”

“Maybe?” Eddie scoffs airily, unsure if you’re teasing or genuinely undecided. He clears his throat and theatrically composes himself, gesturing with a downward motion of his hand in front of his face. “Okay, uh, would you like to have dinner with me?”

“No.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open.

“I’m fucking with you,” You smile devilishly and wrap your arms around his middle.

Finally, he can hug you the way he’s always wanted. Eddie brings you in close and tight, his arms encircling your head. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He murmurs into your hair, inhaling deeply to indulge in every aspect of you he can.

“A little,” You laugh. You remain in each other’s embrace for a moment longer before easing apart, though still connected by your pairs of lassoed arms.

Eddie’s laughter melds with yours, the relief in his tone evident. “Now that the cat's outta the bag, I can finally tell you that I absolutely love when you’re a crybaby.”

You pull a comical expression, raising your eyebrows and widening your eyes. “What, why?” You take in the scattering of freckles across his T-zone while he responds.

“Honest to god, it’s mesmerizing to watch you experience things so intensely. It’s fucking beautiful,” With nothing but adoration in his eyes, Eddie strokes your hair, relishing the way it feels against his skin. “Can I call you my crybaby?”

“No, you cannot!” You swat at his chest and attempt to push him away, but he laughs smugly and brings you back in close. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, surrendering to him entirely. Locked in each other’s gaze, time seems to crawl.

Eddie’s hands, having made their way down to caress your hips, settle on the small of your back. “How about just baby?” he nudges the tip of his nose against yours, his voice taking on an almost sultry tone. “You like the way that sounds?”

All you can do is nod dumbly, watching his eyes fall to your lips.

Eddie mumbles, “Me too,” His hands flex where they lay, tugging you slightly so that your bodies are flush and you have no choice but to lean against him. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes finding yours again, the chocolate pools of his irises swirling.

You nod, slide your hands up his shoulders, and wrap them around his neck. The air was stolen from your lungs, rendering your voice a ghost. Eddie leans in and his lips hover over yours, your eyes fluttering closed in time with his. Then, you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against your own.

For a few moments, you’re out of sync, a mere beat behind due to nerves. But after taking a brief breath, you find each other without trouble. When you slot your lip between his, it’s as though there’s a sunrise in his veins; a new dawn spreads through his body. You tug a fistful of curls at the nape of his neck, your lips clicking wetly with one another, chests heaving in unison.

When the two of you finally have to part to breathe, Eddie whispers, “Holy shit.”

“You can say that again,” You exhale, releasing the grip you have on his hair and soothingly scratching the area with your nails.

“I mean I could,” Eddie borderline purrs, tightening his arms around your waist. “But I’d much rather keep kissing you.”

“Hard to argue with that,” you smile against his lips and give him a quick peck, which he happily returns. Then, your mind begins to wander. “You got me flowers?”

He can’t discern if there’s a trace of disdain or disbelief in your tone. Eddie knows that you consider flowers cliché and overrated; after all, you deal with them all day. But just because you see them that way doesn’t mean he does.

Eddie pulls away slightly to get a good look at you, “Yeah, of course I got flowers for my flower. How could I not?”

Truthfully, he’s bummed about not being able to find a bouquet as exceptional as you. You’re unlike anything from this world, resembling something from his cherished sci-fi novels. You’re resilient, showing up any old rose or daisy. You unfurled your petals solely for Eddie and allowed him to see you bloom. Nothing on earth compares to you. So, a regular bouquet would have to do.

You comment with a slightly teasing tone, “I had no idea you’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Too much?” Eddie bites his lower lip, afraid that you’re offended.

“No, not too much,” you remove your one hand from his hair and rest it on his chest, drawing mindless shapes while you avoid eye contact. “Far more than I deserve though,” You’re slightly taken aback when Eddie cups your face without hesitation, forcing you to look at him. Despite his assertiveness, his touch is tender.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie’s eyes carry an intensity you’ve never seen, brimming with affection and sincerity. “You deserve everything good that this world has to offer. I can’t give you that, but I can give you all of me. That much I can promise.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

[foxcantswim]

Hi there! Saw that you may be open to doing requests so I wanted to send one in if you’re not too busy 👋🏼

How about Vanessa’s reaction to hearing f!Reader screaming in the other room, but it ends up just her being scared of a big bug? (Totally not based on recent experiences I’ve had myself 😅)

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Terrifying Creatures]

(gif by me)

Vanessa comes to rescue you from something much more terrifying than the animatronics. Contents: FLUFF, Established Relationship Warnings: Van+Mike+YN+Animatronics being idiots WC: 1,486 (Had a lot of fun writing this request. Thank you for the idea @heartof-flies !)

"Seriously guys?" Vanessa sighed in annoyance.

Bonnie and Chica were currently standing nearby, looking down at the mess they had caused. Chica had tripped over Bonnie's guitar and knocked over a table, snapping the legs off in the process. There were a couple of drinks on the table which Vanessa and you had been enjoying too, now they were smashed on the floor. Foxy almost looked smug as he watched on from afar.

She had only gotten here around thirty minutes ago and she already wanted to leave. If it wasn't for you, she would already have. But when you gave her those puppy dog eyes and asked her to help you clean up the mess, she couldn't exactly say no.

You had taken Freddy away so he could help you carry back some cleaning supplies, leaving Vanessa with the other three idiots.

"Come on, help me move this out the way," she beckoned for them to come closer to the table, "You too, Foxy."

He opened his mouth in shock.

"I know you didn't do it, but I still would appreciate the help."

After a few minutes of convincing, he agreed and helped Vanessa, Bonnie and Chica pick up the heavy table and move it to the side of the room. Foxy attempted to kicked some glass away, trying his best to hide it.

"Don't," Vanessa scolded him, "We need to clean up properly. You know how Y/N and Mike are, they'll trip and fall over the smallest thing." She went to grab a broom from the nearby closet, Bonnie following her in the process.

He held up his hand, Vanessa cocked her head before placing the broom in is hand - balancing it as best she could.

Of course it fell to the floor.

"Thanks for the offer, bud. But you don't exactly have a good grip," Vanessa smiled as she picked the broom back up and went back over to the mess.

Upon arriving, she noticed that Chica was pointing at Foxy with her eyes narrowed.

"What did you do this time?"

Then Chica pointed to the floor.

Foxy had clearly kicked around the glass even more, most likely in a fit of anger. He had spread it around to the back of some of the arcade machines.

"You're lucky you have a hook for a hand, otherwise I'd be making you get on your hands and knees to clean this up," she rolled her eyes, "You really just like making my job harder, don't you?"

If an animatronic could smirk, Vanessa was sure that's what Foxy would be doing right about now.

After a few minutes of sweeping, still far from done of course, her mind drifted to you and Freddy.

"What is taking them so long?" she wondered out loud, the animatronics looked between each other clearly curious.

As if on cue, that's when she heard you. A loud ear piercing shriek echoing throughout the pizzeria.

Vanessa wasted no time in throwing the broom to the floor, her hand reached to her belt and gripped the emergency taser hard. She made her way to the storage room at a rapid pace. Bonnie tried to follow out of curiosity, but unfortunately he slipped on the broom... Chica and Foxy were left to now clean up even more as Bonnie fell right into another table.

Vanessa slammed the door open, taser pointed up in the air in preparation.

What she wasn't expecting to see was you standing on a chair in the middle of the room.

"Y/N?" she said, lowering the taser ever so slightly.

"Vanessa! Help!" you exclaimed, terror in your voice.

The blonde looked around the room and that's when she also saw Freddy, he was standing in the corner with a sheet over his head.

"I... What is even going on in here?"

"Careful!" you warned, pointing down towards the floor, "It went under that shelf!"

"'It' being what?"

"The most horrific thing I've ever seen!" you covered your eyes.

Vanessa pocketed the taser, raising an eyebrow in confusion. She kneeled on the floor to peek under the shelf.

"I'm not seeing anything, hon."

"Freddy!" you called, "It escaped! Run whilst you can!"

Freddy wasted no time in removing the sheet from his head, he dropped it to the ground before moving past Vanessa to leave the storage room.

"I didn't think you would actually leave me here, you coward!" you exclaimed as you watched him leave.

"Okay, seriously, Y/N. I'm aware you get scared by the smallest thing. But him?" she nodded back towards the door, "What's he scared of?"

That's when you saw it, "Ah! There!"

Vanessa couldn't believe her eyes. The most horrific and terrifying and scary looking... bug? It crawled out from a different set of shelves, causing Vanessa to step back and simply look at it.

"This thing?" she pointed towards the bug.

"Yes!"

"THIS thing?" she put more emphasis on it, "THIS BUG?"

"YES."

Vanessa simply grabbed a nearby cup from the shelf, she bent down and placed it over the bug and then stood back up straight. She simply looked at you in silence. You looked at her in returned silence.

Clearing your throat, you hopped down from the chair, smoothing down your clothes, "Wow... that was... so scary huh?" a nervous laugh escaped you.

"You are so lucky I love you, Y/N," she couldn't stop herself from smiling, "Don't worry. Your knight in shining armour is here to save you."

You folded your arms and pouted.

Vanessa's smile widened as she stepped closer, "Don't be mad. It's cute," she teased, her arms coming up to pull you into a hug, "I'm sure that bug was very scary."

You tried to stay mad, but Vanessa always managed to pull you out of it. The blonde placed a soft kiss against your cheek, causing your face to heat up.

"Come on, Y/N," she continued to place even more kisses, "Can't stay mad at me forever."

Finally, a smile crept up on to your own face, "Nessy..." you groaned, "Stop!" you tried to push her away.

Vanessa finally captured your lips with hers, you finally unfolded your arms to wrap them around her instead.

A smug smile was on Vanessa's face when she pulled away, "I'll be here to save you from all the scary bugs."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

The pair of you finally managed to find the mops and other cleaning supplies, getting ready to clean up whatever extra mess the animatronics have caused whilst you two were gone.

As long as there weren't any bugs around, you were sure you would be fine.

(BONUS/Alternate Scene)

That's when you saw it, "Ah! There!"

Vanessa couldn't believe her eyes. The most horrific and terrifying and scary looking... bug? BUG?!

"MOVE!" Vanessa exclaimed, hopping up onto the chair.

"H-Hey!" you said, trying not to fall off the chair as you clung to Vanessa's arms, "Nessy!"

"That is the biggest bug I've ever seen!"

You gulped, "What do we do? We can't stay here forever!"

"I don't know! Look for something to hit it with!"

"I can't reach the shelves from here!"

The two of you remained on that chair for the rest of the night... And the rest of the following day...

Eventually, the sound of echoing footsteps filled both yours and Vanessa's ears.

"What the hell happened in here, Freddy? Why is there so much glass?!" you heard a voice, "Don't look at me like that... I want this mess cleaned up now."

The door to the storage room opened, and there stood Mike. He froze upon seeing both you and Vanessa standing on a chair.

"Heyyyy, Mike..." you started.

"Am I interrupting something?" he said, extremely confused.

Vanessa smiled, "Nope. Nothing at all."

"Then whyyy are you on the chair?"

"Erm..." you gulped.

The blonde then suddenly gasped, "Mike! Behind you!"

Mike turned around and saw nothing at first, his eyes slowly drifted downwards. His heartrate picked up before he turned and sprinted towards you and Vanessa, "MOVE!" he shouted, jumping onto the already crowded chair.

"Mike!" you exclaimed, now having to hold on to both Vanessa and him in order not to fall, "You were supposed to be our last hope!"

"Someone else can deal with that!" he shook his head.

Vanessa almost slipped, "Find your own chair, you idiot!"

Lets just say, the three of them spent a long time bickering on that chair. Their only salvation was when Chica came in and fell over the sheet Freddy had dropped earlier, accidentally landing on top of the bug... Not without knocking over a lot of shelves in the process though.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp

[pookietv]

apologies, apologies | arthurtv

hello! i am back (sorry it's been so long pookies) so pls accept my humble offering now i am back !!!

cw: smut, slightly toxic, overstim

small pieces of anger had boiled in your blood as you had woke up this morning, a slight whirlwind following you around as you ignored your phone, and meandered around your house.

you and arthur had plans last night. he was going to come round, you had bought all the stuff to make him dinner, the ingredients for his favourite left sat lonely in your fridge, the caramel-chocolate cookies you had baked now boxed up in tupperware, the sight of your kitchen a slightly depressing one.

was it the biggest deal in the world? no, of course not. he forgot.

but it pissed you off. no call, no text, no check up on you at all. you hadn't bothered to remind him, you had figured if the three times you confirmed the night with him weren't enough, then he didn't care that much anyways, right?

you had barely seen him recently - you knew he was busy, and with his line of work, his form of working often meant being around his friends a lot.

but it still bothered you that all of his time had become devoted to seeing his friends - last night was supposed to be the first time you had seen him in almost two weeks, between him having to travel for work and having busy schedules, you felt forgotten.

so your plan of last night, a sweet night in with your boyfriend, with a film and nice food and attention you had been desperately craving from him, had went down the drain, and the bitterness had set in.

you decided cleaning your house was the task to distract you, and your bedroom was the place to begin. the odd piece of clothes scattered across the floor, mugs on the bedside table and misplaced knick-knacks began to return to their rightful areas.

it wasn't until you heard padding, decisive footsteps across your hallway that your ears pricked, and you scrunched your face up curiously.

as you turned to your bedroom door, about to face whoever had intruded into your house, your bedroom door swung wider open, and you were met with a slightly harsh faced arthur.

"why aren't you answering my calls?" he said, his voice slightly stern, and steadied, "had to come all the way to your apartment just to make sure you were alive."

"oh, so now you can make time to come see that i'm alive?" you huffed slightly, and you saw his eyes narrow in confusion.

"what are you on about?" he murmured dismissively.

you felt your eyes roll slightly, "last night? you were supposed to come round?"

realisation sunk into his face slightly, and whilst you hoped some form of guilt may follow that, a slight huff came instead, "oh, don't be so clingy, it's not a big deal." he said, decisively.

"clingy? i've missed you, arthur, you were away for a whole week filming and then you come back, barely see me and just keep ignoring me?" you said, eyes slightly doe-ish and the feeling of annoyance still irritating you like a bug.

"oh, come on, i'm here now, aren't I?" he murmured, voice lowered slightly, honeyed as he stepped slightly closer to you, finger gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, the soft touch of his finger sweeping across your skin spreading a warmth through your cheeks.

you tried so desperately to hold onto your anger, and not let yourself disarm so quickly, but god it was so easy to forgive him when his dark brown wide eyes looked down at you like some sort of charming spell, lulling you in, fingers still gently twisting the lock of hair he had just tidied away behind your ear.

"arthur, s'not that simple, i'm still annoyed, you barely even-"

"shh, i know, i know, you're still angry. let me make it up, hm?" he murmured, so close his breath spread like a fan down your neck, gently leaning in and connecting his lips to your jawline, and any resolve you had melted away, and you figured you could always curse yourself for it later.

his finger lent use to tilt your jaw up slightly, as you felt his stubble brush against the skin of your neck, as his lips setted against the crook of it now, pressing gentle kisses in a trail against you, achingly close to your collarbones as you allowed your hands to creep up and find placement on the back of his neck, fingers gently playing with the shortened section at the back.

his other hand went to the hem of your shirt, teasingly running his thumb along where it settled against your lower stomach, each slight touch making you embarrassingly needy, a slight whine leaving your lips as you heard a softened chuckle from him.

your anger had been such a fragile thing, so easily displaced by even the slightest of intoxicating touch from him.

"arthur," you murmured, cheeks flush red and each breath hitched, still on the border between being filled with fury at him, and throwing that all away in a desperate attempt to fill the hole that had been so neglected by arthur being away for two weeks.

he smirked a little down at you, lifting his head from the crook of your neck, "i know, lovie. knew you wouldn't be angry for long, hm?" he said, voice dripping with a saccharine tone, his own eyes slightly darkened with lust.

it was all you could do not to pathetically whine as he gently pushed you to the bed, you still sat up against your headboard, leaning down to you and pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, thumbs gently pushing up your shirt as your widened, pleading eyes only stoked the fire in him.

"you look so pretty when you're deciding whether you're cross with me or need me," he teased, pulling the shirt off your head with ease, a slight cocky smirk gracing his face, before his lips went to the front of your chest, one hand resting against your hip as his groaned against your skin, his teeth lightly grazing against your perked nipple.

you had easily become putty to him, malleable to his charm as your hand gently grasped at his upper arm, squeezing slightly as i let out a soft sigh at the touch of his facial hair against you, not too rough to hurt but instead just a warm blossom of slight burn against your chest.

he pushed his thumbs into the waistband of the soft pajama shorts you were wearing, edging down both them and the lacy panties you wore underneath them, slow and teasingly, making a slight impatient huff of air leave you as you looked at arthur pleadingly.

his head dipped lower, his body held up between your legs as one hand rested against your lower stomach, his eyes glazed over as he took in the sight of you, bared in front of him, arousal practically drooling from you as he grinned to himself. he pressed a soft kiss to your hipbone, then the lightest kiss against your clit, only eliciting more whines to fall from you.

"so wet already, hm?" he said, voice thick with control as all you could muster out was a pleading, "please, arthur."

the pad of his thumb gently edged against your sensitive spot, drawing agonisingly slow circles against you, as he looked up at you with a smirk, "what, sweetheart, you want me?" he said, voice full of mock surprise.

"need you," you murmured back, feeling helpless to each move arthur made - all you could do was pray he would take pity on you and end the slow, torturous teasing.

"i'll give you whatever you need if you accept my apology," he grinned, his thumb drawing small circles drawing to a stop, his face agonisingly close to your soaked cunt, each breath he drew and released making you squirm a little more.

"see? look how sorry i am, hm?" he mumbled out, between placing gentle kisses on the sensitive inside skin of your thighs, trailing upwards, reaching dangerously close to where you needed him, as he looked up at you with his big brown eyes that seemed to melt anyone.

"arthur," you babbled out, reduced to begging from even the simplest of touches against him, "please, i forgive you, need you so bad," you whined, watching his eyebrow raise for just a moment before he dipped his head back down, arms pushing your legs upwards slightly, to rest over his shoulders as his lips attached to you, tongue gently trailing from your entrance to your clit, making an embarrassingly loud moan fall from your lips.

the slight stubble that had lightly grazed your chest before was at much better use now, the rough burn a welcome addition as you felt your poor sensitive inner thighs begin to be rubbed raw, however it was too mindspinningly good to even care about tomorrows pain now.

his mouth gave a slight bit of suction, leaving the breath to be sucked from your lungs as his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud, your hips bucking with each movement in a pathetic attempt for more, which was only greeted by a muffled and cocky chuckle from arthur, one of his hands squeezing your thigh a slight bit tighter.

he was lapping against you like a man starved, any time your thighs twinged slightly closer together he was the first to push them apart, pushing his head closer to you, as if he could be any closer.

any inhibition or thoughts you had previously been able to have were practically incinerated, one hand of yours resting in arthurs hair, not tugging but just another feeble attempt at being as connected as physically possible as desperate whimpers fell from your lips like a prayer, arthurs muffled grunts only spurring you on as you pleaded gently.

fast figures of eight were painted against you as it was all you could concentrate on to try and keep your hips still - at least relatively so, but with every slight movement you bucked against his mouth, almost pathetically.

one of his hands went to your hipbone, gently pushing down as he looked up at you, eyes glossed and lidded, as you could feel your own head push back, your brain completely fogged and all responses had become increasingly needy whines, reaching closer to being considered completely dumb.

he couldn't help his eyes being etched onto every movement you made, each twist and contortion serving a reminder that he got to be the one to do this to you, a sick sense of gratification spread around his own body.

each breath had become a battle for a gulp of thick air, a familiar tightness gracing your stomach, and it was all you could do to grasp at the sheet beside you and screw your eyes shut, the all too familiar peak bounding closer as he feverishly lapped against you, the increased pace and newfound harshness pushing you over the edge, frenzied whines torn from your throat as your lower body practically went limp, euphoria dizzying your head as the familiar knot snapped, moans tumbling from you as your muscles relaxed against the mattress.

arthur on the other hand, had become completely buried in the bliss, groans leaving him as he lapped against you, leaving you to squirm and whine in overstimulation his hands only gripped at your thighs tighter, leaving you unable to move, just babbling whimpers falling from your lips, as he paused for a moment only to reassure, "come on, sweetheart, you can take a little more... been two whole weeks without the taste of you, need you for a little longer," he murmured before burying his head back between your legs without a moment for you to respond.

all you wanted was to desperately please him, as black spots clouded your vision and tears pricked your eyes whilst you fell into a complete oblivion, the orgasm-ecstasy mixed with the ache of your poor throbbing core was a pain that you had somewhat grown to love, whilst fighting the overwhelming urge to jerk your hips with every slight movement, tightly wound.

he only became more sloppy, the mix of spit and arousal coating the bottom half of his face, your fingers curling into his hair as a plea for release, your core only becoming more overstimulated by the second as he failed to slow down, your hips jerking desperately as a tug on his hair made him come to, and he looked at you with an apologetic grin as he pulled away.

"atta girl, did such a good job," he murmured out, proud smirk plastered on his face, his arm raising to quickly wipe his face as he lifted himself up, hand quickly moving to card through your hair in a sincere manner, a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, "knew you could take a little more, you always like the ache," he said, matter of factly. and you hated that he was right, the frenzied end of arousal always a desperate act to see how long you could go, how much you could really take, a game arthur so desperately loved playing.

you giggled a slight bit, breath still panting and face flushed red as you were basically rendered immobile, your limbs closer to jelly, "uh huh, just went a little too long," you said gently, tucked next to arthur in a slightly needy post-orgasm haze.

"just got too focused, could do that all day if you'd let me," he grinned a little cheekily, and you rolled your eyes playfully, allowing your bodyweight to rest against arthurs chest in a sobering state, "although, i may mess up more if that's the way i get to make it better,"

you gave him a slight stern look, and he laughed a little, holding a hand up in mock apology, "kidding, i'm kidding." he confirmed, "i just know how easy it is for you to forgive me when i'm between your legs, and i mean fuck, i'm not complaining."

"for the love of god, don't leave me alone for another two weeks," you joked back in return, and he nodded his head, a smirk still stuck there.

"how on earth could i leave you for another two weeks when you just reminded me how much you need me?"

"don't joke, i missed you," you said, in a coy voice, and he chuckled slightly in response.

"i know, lovie. i missed you too." he murmured gently, pressing another kiss to your hairline as your eyes shut momentarily in bliss, "love you, you know. i'm sorry i was shitty, i really do love you."

[walkingzombiegirl]

hii can i request a fic with bakugo and reader cooking together?

━ 𝙔𝙪𝙢 𝙔𝙪𝙢 𝙔𝙪𝙘𝙠

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - You can't cook however that's (mostly) okay with your boyfriend whose here to help. And make fun of your awful skills. 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cursing 𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - ❤️

REBLOGS APPRECIATED

His back faced the living room, head hunched over the stove all while he muttered nonsense you couldn't seem to hear. The room wafted of burnt food and sadness, your nose twitching at the stream of smoke finding it's way out the window above the sink. And all you could do was watch with a pout.

"I didn't mean it..." You mumbled, trying your best to peak around his broad back and see the horrid monster that he was scraping off the pan. "I know." He stated, his tone seemingly unreadable. It made your stomach fall so far you almost tumbled off your chair.

"I'm sorry." He whipped around, holding up the blackened pan which the soon burnt piece of depression fell out of and plopped onto the ceramic floor.

"This is art, what are you talking about?"

You stared at him, blinking in the dead silence of the kitchen for a few beats. The stove vent groaning behind your curious confusion.

"Art?"

"Nobody I know has ever burnt a piece of spam quite like whatever the hell that thing is." He pointed to it like a child would a bug, your face forming into one of petty annoyance. You scoffed. "It isn't that bad."

Both your heads turned down to look at the most unrecognizable piece of ash that sat sadly on the ground.

"Okay... it's that bad. I only walked away for a second!" He raised an accusatory eyebrow, a sassy tone as he spoke, "That fucking phone, you were too busy shitting to make us dinner." "I was not! I was peeing you asshat, give me that pan!"

He moved it away, shaking his head as you got up from your chair.

"Oh no goblin hands, you're not touching this even if you beg." You paused, tilting your head. "Is begging an option?" His crimson eyes bored into yours, his jaw clenching. "Don't tease. I'm hungry." You let out a groan, glancing down at the sad chunk of spam. "Can we at least cook together then?"

He seemed to think about it, giving up with a breath and walking to place the pan in the sink, turning the faucet on.

"Sweep that sad thing up and I might let you stir something." The broom was in your hand within a few seconds, a string of curses falling from your lips as he bit a smile back from crossing his mouth. His head tilted ever so slightly so he could watch you mean mug the poor crusted piece of food.

"Can I do the vegetables? Veggies are easy." He turned to you, giving to the sassiest eyebrow lift he could muster. "What?" "Hand me a knife." You asked, leaning towards them. "In your dreams babe." He pushed the block of sharp utensils before you could snatch one, a glare being shot his way.

"Fine then... the rice?" He nodded. "Realistic." He again held a grin at your angry grumbles all the way to the bag of rice, then listened to your stress grumbles as you picked it up.

"Am I a bad housegirlfriend?" He sputtered in response to you, eyeing your face as you poured the rice into the cooker. "What the fuck does that mean?" "Am I a bad housegirlfriend?" You questioned in a genuine tone, setting the bag down while pressing buttons. "Cause I can't cook."

"Oh. No. Just useless."

You scoffed watching him laugh at his own joke, blocking you from pinching his arm. The wooden spatula he was holding falling into the pan while he all but collapsed with his own ability to find himself hilarious.

"Take that back you shithead!" He wrestled against you, holding your arms against your body. "No take backsies." "No way you just said that."

You both nearly tumbled from losing your footing, food popping on the pan as he huffed and you attempted to pinch him away.

"Am I really useless?" He shook his head, kissing the side of your head while holding you up. "Eh, you're nice to look at." "You are insufferable. I can't believe you save people for a living." "I smolder them to life with my charm." He grinned, holding you from escaping his arms and taking off. "Great lord I think that face would scare me back to death."

He teetered his head back and forth, the smell of smoke entering the air that you both noticed almost immediatley. Heads slowly turning towards the stove that seemed to evilly grin back to you both.

"Kats... I think you burned the food."

"Shit."

[riacte]

"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.

False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.

"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."

False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.

"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."

Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."

False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."

Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,

"I'm a lot of work."

Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.

"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."

Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"

False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."

Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"

"Then we won't be normal."

"What if I want to be normal?"

"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."

Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."

False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"

He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"

False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."

"No?"

"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."

"Hey!"

"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."

Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"

False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."

"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."

False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"

"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."

"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."

Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."

False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."

She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.

(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)

Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."

"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"

False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.

"— but that's why I do it."

[lavender-at-heart]

Hello!! Can you please make "Dating Carlisle would include" like you did with other Cullens? I saw you wanted Twilight request, and I really want more Carlisle content, so. Thank you in advance!

YESSSS FOR SURE!! BEEN DYING TO DO THIS ANYWAY. 💖💖💖💓💓💓

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

Dating Carlise HCs:

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x GN!reader (but fem in mind)

Warnings: none

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

So the whole "I've waited a hundred years for this" is kind of applicable to all the Cullens, but-

It's different! Carlisle has waited like 300 years. He's honestly given up hope in ever finding a mate, thought it wasn't in the cards for him

And despite having a loving family, seeing all of them and his friends find a life partner made him lonley. He was happy, but a lonley person.

So when you come into his life it's like a million fireworks go off at once!

He may be very rusty and old-fashioned, but that doesn't mean he doesn't sweep you off your feet!

You would be seriously head over heels within the first 5 mins of talking

Wether you were one of the Cullen kids' friends or you were in need of medical attention, you were hooked the minute you met

You definitely thought there has to be a catch

He can't be handsome, rich, kind, smart, respectful, AND sane

I'm not sure how it would work with his super self control, but he would probably feel at least a little bit of a thirst for your blood

He'd probably freak out a bit and be overall shocked

Maybe a bit repulsed with himself for even slightly wanting to indulge in human blood

Nevertheless he overcomes this and quickly works on spending time with you

Obviously he wants to come across as normal as possible but he can't help but be overly enthusiastic

Dates would include dinners to expensive restaurants, way too expensive in your opinion

Long walks by the beach or in the forest near his house

Stargazing

Reading by the fireplace

Loves reading you to sleep

Ballet, Opera, or classical music shows are probably a must

But he's down to more casual things too

Being with you makes him feel human, so late night 7-11 trips, or binge watching a show gives him a new, fresh, taste of a cosy life

He loves loves loves to cook for you

Puts on the cooking channel and gets to work

Will try different recipes and cuisines and have you rate each meal

Will go with Alice to the mall so he can buy you all sorts of gifts

Will teach you how to properly dance, none of that jumping up and down business

Would love the idea of getting married soon, he knows you both will never want anyone else

But he would also love to support you in your future in normal society, while you have it

Wether that be post-seccondary or a career

Speaking of weddings, probably a big one

He would invite his long list of friends of course, maybe even the volturi

But simple. He never wants to be showy, but he's just so proud and exited!

Definitely nothing extravagant, keep things classy and nice

He would always be there during difficult times

Obviously if your going through physical difficulties he's the man

You get the best, at home treatment

Top quality soup, tea, and medicine

Due to his super hearing and even smell he can tell if there's a tickle in your throat or a bug in your stomach

But if your feeling down or going through a rough patch he's there

He knows better than anyone that life is full of highs and lows, and he sticks around for the lows

--------------------------------------------‐----------

Thanks for reading, I welcome any feedback!

Xoxo

[privateinvestigatorsuniverse]

The Background Check Australia: Know about the role played

Hiring employees for an office is an intricate process. These days the hiring process is too different from the past. Usually, parameters like character skills, talent or creativity, and problem-solving skills are essential. Any organisation would want to have human resources that would offer excellent performance but will also showcase reliability and integrity. Therefore, background check is the game changer when hiring employees. Hence, this article explicitly discusses background check Australia and how the methods can bring change.

The purpose of conducting Background check Australia

Do you want to know why Background Check Australia is considered an indispensable part of the hiring process? Well, it helps companies to understand the candidates who are honest, trustworthy and won't jeopardise the company's reputation. You can say that background check is like a lens that offers a panoramic picture of the candidate's qualifications, history and character. Of course, any employer can make out an inclusive image of the candidate from information regarding education, criminal record, and previous employment details.

Methods used in the process of Background Checking

Background check Australia follows a meticulous scrutinisation process. It is designed in a way to unveil hidden facts that might not surface easily to the bare eyes. Private investigator companies with experience in background checks often carry out the process that considers checking the legal records of the candidate. It also discloses beliefs that might seem to put the safety of the workplace at stake and even can destroy the ethical balance. Background checks involve checking credit history to ensure the employee's fianncial liabilities. Also, it shows whether the candidate is not accused of any monetary scam.

Academic verification of the candidate is obvious

Many times it has been seen that candidates do claim their alleged degrees as original. But later on, when found, that might turn out wrong. Honestly, that again puts a question mark on the credibility and qualification of the company's work office. In that case, background check Australia is crucial in preventing whether The acclaimed stuff is right or wrong. And warns the company about the wrong credentials being produced. Employment history checks even show the career journey of the candidate in a larger context. Apart from that also conducts drug checks to ensure the workplace is free of illicit substances.

Final Say

Therefore you can see that these are the various ways the Background Check Australia carries on work. So employers can also Avail the criminal check service for detailed insight on the suitability of the candidate

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Always There

Note: I know I’ve been MIA for a while but the “writer block” bug bit me good. Anyways, hope I can apologize better with this Gibbs Prompt!

Prompt: Gibbs has a panic attack after hearing old military footage.

"Tony, knock it off, you're gonna make me drop it and then we're all gonna be in trouble," you warned the overly excited agent as he made grandous hand motions near the tray of coffees you had.

"Oh come on, Y/N. I know you're just as excited as me. You're the biggest crime noir movie nerd I know."

You just smiled at his theatrics as the both of you exited the elevators and walked towards the bullpen, where the rest of the team was waiting.

"Tony been talking your ear off about the new Gregory Haines film?" McGee asked as you handed over his coffee with an eyeroll.

"You have no idea. It took him 10 minutes just to order his coffee because he was busy talking about the trailer with the barista."

You handed Bishop her loaded breakfast bagel and latte before finishing with Gibbs' tall black coffee. He was quietly engrossed in whatever case file was on his desk, barley looking up to greet you. It was unusual of him since you two were kind of a thing now. Of course no one knew about it, but for the last 3 months or so, you and Gibbs had been going on late night dates and hanging out at each others houses, occasionally sleeping together.

You blamed his distant behavior on keeping a professional cover with you so as not to arise any suspicion from the team, but kept a reminder in your head to ask him about it later.

"But she just can't help going back to him, totally oblivious to the fact that he's actually the town murderer-

"DiNozzo. Are you able to focus today?" Gibbs inquired in irritation, irrupting Tony's lengthy synopsis to Bishop. His tone was a bit more gruff than usual, even throwing Tony off a bit.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry boss. Back to work."

As Tony took his seat at his desk, McGee pulled up a picture of a very obvious decomposed body being pulled from the water. "Master Sargent Gantry, was found by local police, washed up on the shore 2 days ago. Shot in the head, the county's ME determined the cause of death to be a suicide after tracing the trajectory of the bullet and the linking it to the Master Sargent's missing sidearm that the police found when doing a sweep of the lake." Using the clicker, he changed the screen so that it showed a picture of a plastic bag filled with what looked like letters and a personal recording device. "Unfortunately, a couple days later, they also found this vacuum sealed bag containing letters to the Master Sargent and a recording of an unidentified male admitting to friendly fire during a firefight back in Iraq of 1991."

"1991? Wasn't that-

Before Bishop could finish whatever historical fact she had in mind, she was interrupted by Gibbs.

"Operation Desert Storm."

All of you turned to look at him as he stood up from his desk, coffee in his hand.

"DiNozzo and McGee, I want you two getting all the information you can from Master Sargent Gentry's time in the Marine Corps. Find out if anyone had any problems with him that would suggest motive. Bishop, I want all the records pulled from the ME that did Gentry's autopsy, talk with Ducky and Palmer. Y/N, you're with me. Abby and Sloan are going over the recording found with our victims body."

No one dared asked any follow up questions as all the clues were adding up. His more than usual grumpiness, the distant look in his eyes. You all knew Gibbs served in Desert Storm so seeing what looked like a fragging on a superior officer and possible friend, would definitely offput him.

You caught up to him as he entered the elevator, destined to the lab. It was quiet for a few seconds before you decided to speak.

"You ok?

He just nodded, but didn't speak further on it. Once the doors opened, you were following behind as he entered Abby's lab, where Sloan was already waiting. She looked just as worried as you felt.

"Whadya got Abbs?"

"Ok, so luckily for us, the letters and recording were vacuum sealed in a plastic bag, preserving them perfectly. The letter don't give any names or clues as to who wrote them but when I listened on the recording, I found something."

Gibbs nodded to her, to which she turned to her computer and clicked a button, immediately filling the lab with loud sounds of machine guns firing. It was the only time you had ever seen Gibbs visibly flinch. As you all listened to the audio clearly describing a firefight with enemy forces, you noticed the change in Gibbs' demeanor. He seemed to stand rigid as his free hand slowly closed itself in a fist, while the other adjusted holding his coffee in almost a nervous manner.

Are they coming from the south side or not?!

Who's got eyes on that treeline?!

The sounds of bullets ricocheting off of metal could be heard as a couple of men cursed before returning fire.

Check your fire Watts!

Did I hit him?! Tell me I didn't hit him Sarge! Is he moving?!

You could see the hard swallow come from Gibbs as he turned towards the exit, glancing quickly over you before looking away. In that split second, you identified exactly what he was feeling. Panic.

"That's enough Abby," you spoke, making her quickly stop the recording in concern. You looked over at Sloan who was also know focused on Gibbs.

"You alright Gibbs?" she asked tentatively.

He cleared his throat and nodded before heading to leave. "Send the recording to DiNozzo and McGee. Have them identify the voices."

As he walked out, he threw his full cup of coffee away in the trash, confirming that something wasn't right. As Sloan made an attempt to follow him, you stopped her.

"I got it. You stay with Abby."

He had almost managed to escape you through the elevators but you threw your arm in between the doors, causing them to open back up as you slipped in.

As the elevator began it's accent, you watched as Gibbs leaned his head back against the wall, eyes shut, and began breathing a bit heavier than before. Knowing, he would never want anyone to see him like this, you hit the emergency stop button and went over to him.

"Gibbs. It's me, y/n. Can you hear me?"

He didn't answer, but instead turned to face the wall, hands gripping the railing till his knuckles were white. You knew at this point, he was fully immersed in a panic attack and couldn't talk. He was now breathing through his mouth, eyes still shut and you knew if you didn't so something, he was gonna start hyperventilating.

So you squeezed yourself underneath his arms so that it was you between him and the wall and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hear you.

"Jethro, it's me. You're having a panic attack and I need you to slow your breathing for me, alright?"

He shook his head in defiance as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

"Just listen to me. Listen to my voice. You're here with me. We're in the elevator, no one else is here."

You were surprised when he used one arm to wrap around your waist, squeezing you tightly, as the other stayed gripped to the railing.

"I- I can hear them-

Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. He sounded defeated and almost scared, causing you to hold him tighter. Still, you whispered the same words over again, hoping to bring him out of the obvious memory he was reliving.

"You're not there anymore. It's over, you're here now. With me. In the elevator. Bishop is down in the bullpen. Ducky and Palmer are in autopsy. Vance is in his office."

You recited everything to him, describing all the details.

"Just breath with me Jethro. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Keep doing that."

You practiced normal breathing with him until you finally felt some of his body relax. His other hand eventually let go of the railing and joined his other arm to wrap around you. His grip was still tight and his face was buried in the crook of your neck but his breathing was a lot better. Now you began to feel his body start trembling as all the adrenaline was slowly finding ways to leave him.

You knew the worst of it was over and you didn't need to talk anymore, but just hold him and stay with him until he was back in control. You ran your fingers through his hair in the same motion over and over again while making sure to take in deep breaths.

Once you felt his grip loosen and take a step back, you wiped your own tears that had fallen and smiled gently up at him. He quickly wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, obviously somewhat embarrassed about what happened but as he turned to look away from you, you pulled his face towards yours and kissed him.

You heard him sigh into the kiss as he pulled you back into his arms.

"Thank you," he said, moving to nuzzle your neck again.

"Of course. I'll always be there for you Jethro."

The both of you took a few more minutes to pull yourselves together before facing the rest of them team, which you knew were gonna have a lot of questions after Abby filled them in on what happened.

But none of it mattered as you smiled slightly to yourself, feeling closer to Gibbs than ever before.

[b-o-e]

Welcome Home love language head canons :)

surprise!

Wally

Giving: words of affirmation

Wally is good with his words when he is sure about something. This comes into effect when it comes to talking about his feelings for you! He is quite poetic when he wants to be. Words flow off his tongue as smoothly as butter, singing sweet songs of praise and lines of love to you. He could woo you with ease. He likes it when you get a little shy, looking to the side. He likes it even more when he gets to see the flustered look on your face when he directs your attention back to him. 

“My, don’t you look stunning tonight,” Wally studied your appearance with nothing less than a look of pure awe. You smiled, cheeks turning pink at the attention.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Darling,” you joked lightly, looking to the side to hide your embarrassment. Only moments later, his forefinger was under your chin, gently tilting your head to make your gaze meet with his once more.

“Hmm… that colour really brings out your eyes,” he murmured sweetly, his face mere inches from your own. Your cheeks burned as you gaped slightly at the close proximity, frozen in surprise before you ducked your head down to hide in the crook of his neck.

“You’re such a tease and you know it,” you grumbled, well aware he was embarrassing you on purpose.

“Ha ha ha, I can’t resist. You know I mean every word I say to you, my love.”

Receiving: quality time, physical affection

Wally loves spending time with you, no matter what it may be that you are doing. If the two of you are having a picnic, if you keep him company while he is painting, if you go for a walk with him, he loves it. Especially if you talk! He loves to listen, and to make conversation in return, too. Overall, anything and everything. Even though he doesn’t sleep himself, he quite enjoys sleep overs! It brings him comfort and content to know that you’re simply there, spending time with him. He just really finds peace in having your presence around. Something he’s a bit more shy about is physical touch. Although he isn’t super used to it, he loves to be held. He likes your hugs (despite usually having a hard time returning it), your arms around his waist, your head against his chest or stomach, your lips pecking his cheek, your hands gently cradled in his, your thumbs brushing against his face…  he simply loves to feel your touch.

Howdy

Giving: physical affection

Howdy has four arms. You already know that he is the best hugger in the town! He loves to wrap you up in his embrace. An absolute cuddle bug, no doubt about it! No matter what, if you two are near each other, at least one of his hands are probably on you. Resting on your hip, holding your hand, pressing against the small of your back, sat on top of your head… always! He is certainly partial to having you in his arms, though. You’re bound to feel safe and secure within them.

Receiving: physical affection/acts of service

As said before, physical affection! He just loves it! Anything! Hugs! Hand holding! Kisses! CUDDLES! He loves it all, as long as he gets to feel your touch! Along with this, Howdy loves it when you do things for him, completely unprompted. Helping out with stock, sweeping up a mess on the floor, letting someone know where the item they’re looking for is when he’s busy with something else? Even though he feels bad about it when you do (he makes sure to reward you!), it means so much to him that you're so willing to do him a favour. How thoughtful of you!

“Oh, shucks. You didn’t have to do that for me, bug!” Howdy said. His arm hooked around your waist, carefully bringing you closer. “You treat me so well, don’t you?” he hummed with a smile.

“You know that it’s nothing, no big deal at all,” you chuckled, leaning into his chest.

“No matter how big or small the favour, it doesn't mean any less to me. Thank you, bug,”

“You’re very welcome, big guy,” you giggled.

“Now,” one of Howdy’s sets of arms wrapped fully around your waist, his lower hands finding the bends of your knees. He picked you up, holding you against him as he grinned down at you.

“I could go for some cuddle time, snuggle bug! How about that?”

Barnaby

Giving: physical affection

Another snuggler! Barnaby is #2 when it comes to the best hugs in the neighbourhood. His big, fluffy, warm arms are around you every chance he gets! Sometimes, he likes to be a bit of a tease and use your head as an armrest. The moment you’d like him to stop, don’t worry! You don’t need to tell him twice. Barnaby loves scooping you right up into his warm embrace! You are 100% his teddy bear when it’s time for an afternoon nap. Good luck getting out after he falls asleep!

“Ah, would’ja look what we’ve got here?” Barnaby’s voice came from behind you. Big blue arms snaked around your waist, lifting you right off of the ground.

“B!” you tried to push his arms away, to no avail. “I was talking to Sal and Jules,” you whined, said neighbours of yours laughing as you squirmed in the inescapable embrace. Barnaby yawned dramatically, one arm leaving your body to cover his mouth. You were basically being held like a football, now!

“Thanks for findin’ my teddy, you two! Means the world. I’m sure we’ll see ya around, yeah?” he waved at Sally and Julie, who giggled as you accepted your fate. Barnaby chuckled a little as you went limp, headed to his house. “I could use a nice nap out on the hammock, y’know? How’s that sound, bear?”

“You’re a pain in my rear, B.”

“Awe. I love ya too, toots!”

Receiving: words of affirmation

Barnaby is a funny guy who is always trying to make those around him feel happy, but sometimes, he can get pretty self conscious. Was he being too loud? Was he coming off as too lighthearted? Was he being funny enough? Was he being annoying? It brings with great relief when you put these worries of his at ease. When you laugh at his jokes and tell him how funny they were, when you assure him that you know he cares, when you take him seriously while others only see him as a joke? It simply means so very much to the big ol’ dog. When you cheer him up after he’s been feeling down, you can bet you’ll be getting loving snuggles for days!

Eddie

Giving: words of affirmation

This southern man is full of pure southern charm, whether it be intentional or not! He is a sweet talker, naturally so, always so incredibly kind to you and those around. You will hear constant compliments from the mailman, such high praise, and so much reassurance! He gives you a confidence boost for sure.

“Why, to what do I owe the pleasure of stumblin’ among this pretty little peach on such a fine day?” Eddie leaned against the fence in your front yard.

“Good morning to you too, Eddie,” you chuckled, cheeks pinkening. 

“Good morning, sugar,” he smiled in return. “How goes it today, hun? You’re lookin’ gorgeous this mornin’,”

“Eddie, I literally just rolled out of bed,” you snickered, straightening up his crooked hat for him. He must have taken a stumble. Nonetheless, he leaned over and pecked your forehead.

“I said what I said,” he grinned.

Receiving: acts of service, words of adfirmtatiojn 

Eddie is forgetful, that is no secret at all. He always tends to accidentally leave something behind. His hat, a letter or package meant to be delivered, pens, so many things! When you remind him or bring them to him, he is so thankful! Another thing well known about Eddie is that he is quite the klutz! Although most times he manages to catch himself, he does occasionally trip and get hurt. When you gladly help him out with his injuries, he falls in love with you just a little more. Especially if you kiss it better! Sometimes, he gets pretty bashful about it. When you tell him you don't mind one bit and that you’re willing to go above and beyond for anything he needs, his heart flutters with joy!

Frank

Giving: quality time

Frank can be very quiet and reserved, keeping to himself. He enjoys his quiet time, but even more so, he enjoys his quiet time spent with you! He appreciates someone that he can spend time with little to no words shared at all, or a whole lot of them if you’re willing to listen to his rambles, so if you feel the same, he greatly appreciates your company. He often seeks you out for your presence in these cases. When you are doing something together, chances are, he will tell you some of his favourite facts about the butterflies around, the subject of the book you are reading, etcetera! He thinks that you are neat, so will tell you and teach you about this neat stuff to express his feelings toward you.

“At first, this butterfly may appear to be a monarch. Although, if you take a closer look, you can notice this line on the hind wing, which means that it is not actually a monarch, but a viceroy butterfly instead,”

You and Frank sat side by side, a book open between you. You two were in the garden, backs against a tree, watching for any cool insects that came to check out the plants.

“Is there a reason why they look so much alike?”

“Well, monarchs are poisonous to eat because of a toxin in milkweed they consume when young. Their appearance allows predators to know they’re not for eating. Viceroy’s copy this appearance to keep safe from predators as well,”

“Is there anything you don’t know about butterflies?” You chuckled, peeking at him.

“There’s always more to learn,” He smiled. You smiled back, shaking your head in amusement. 

“I like it when you teach me. you describe things better than any book ever could,” you told him. His cheeks reddened, and he shifted his position slightly. 

“I like teaching you. It makes me happy that you’re so willing to listen. I know I’m quite ‘nerdy’, Julie tends to make a point of reminding me, so it’s nice to have someone who shares the same appreciation towards things like this as myself,” Frank admitted, plucking at some grass. “Basically, what I’m trying to say… thank you. I appreciate it, a lot,”

“You’re more than welcome, Frank,”

Receiving: gift giving, quality time

A new book? For him? About his favourite subject at the moment? You bet he is jumping with joy, cheeks flushed and a smile on his face! He’s so happy! A new butterfly net, after his last one broke? (darn it, Julie!) Wow! You just always know how to make his day. Along with this, Frank enjoys spending time alone to unravel sometimes. With you, though, he enjoys it a lot as well. When you come over, a book in hand, sitting down next to him and quietly reading with him? He loves moments like those.

Julie

Giving: physical affection, acts of service

Julie loves, loves, loves, hugs! Any moment they get, their arms are wrapped around you! If you two are walking together, you can bet that her hand is in yours or your arms are interlocked. She likes to run errands both for you or with you, as well! Oh, you want a snack from Howdy’s? She’ll come along with you to keep you company! You’re not feeling well? Don’t worry! They’ll go fetch you some soup from Poppy! You are their favourite person, they’re more than willing to do whatever you need.

Receiving: physical affection

Julie likes receiving hugs and such as much as giving them! Sometimes, they’re a little nervous that they’re being a little too clingy, too touchy. When you return her acts of affection though, she is reassured that you aren’t feeling this way! Either way, if you simply told her, she would understand and tone it down a notch. Anything to make sure you’re comfortable! Another thing that they like is if you play with their hair! Run your hands through it, put it up for them, braid it, whatever you feel like! It’s one of their most favourite feelings in the world.

“Can you play with my hair, please?” Julie leaned towards you, flashing you the classic puppy eyes. “I need some help with brushing it!” She claimed, holding a brush out towards you. With a light hearted sigh of amusement, you took the brush from her, sitting down with a smile.

“C’mere,” you patted the space between your legs. She gladly plopped right down, getting comfy as you started on her hair, beginning at the ends.

“Thank you!” She said, chipper and happy that you complied. You slowly dragged the brush through her hair, fingers following behind, carefully untangling any little knots.

“You’re very welcome,” you smiled, noticing how much her body relaxed into yours. She basically melted under your touch, sinking back against you. “You really do like this, don’t you?” you snickered softly.

“I really do,” she admitted shamelessly, grinning. “I can’t help it! It feels so nice and calming. Plus it gives me an excuse to spend more time with you!" she added. "Reminds me of when I was a kid as well,” she released a soft sigh, seeming to think back to when her siblings used to help with her hair.

“Yeah, I get that,” you smiled, knowing she missed them sometimes. “I don’t mind at all. I enjoy it,”

Poppy

Giving: gift giving/acts of service

Poppy is a gift giver and a favour doing. She loves it! Baking your favourite treats for you, quilting a cute new blanket for your couch, crocheting a comfy sweater for you, everything of that sort! Definitely her favourite thing to do. She loves those activities on their own, even more so with the intent of gifting them to her fellow neighbours, and even more so with the intent of gifting them to you!

“Oh, good mornin’, hun!” Poppy exclaimed, pleased to see you at her barn. “I didn’t expect you to stop by today. I’m glad, though. I was actually just finishing up some baked goods for you,” she ushered you in with a smile.

“Poppy! You didn’t need to,” you returned the smile with ease. Everything she did tended to put one on your face, afterall. 

“You know I love to, though. It keeps me busy, gives me something to do! A break from all the chaos the others always seem to get up to. Goodness, some days I feel they’ll give me a heart attack!” She held her feathered arm over her chest for emphasis.

“I certainly understand that,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Thank you, Poppy.”

Receiving: acts of service

Now, despite enjoying doing things for you all the time and seeing it as no big deal, the moment you do something for her, she's so flustered! You didn’t need to do that for her! It’s strange having the roles switched, but she does find the feeling very pleasant. She knows that the things she does are done out of love, so having things done for her in a similar way just warms her heart.

Sally

Giving: words of affirmation

Sally loves to give you compliments! How nice you look, how good your performance was, how much it means to her for you to help her with her plays, so many things! Sweet words are always spilling from her mouth! She likes to see how flustered she can make you, sometimes. You look so cute!

Receiving: quality time/gifts

Sally loves it when you spend time with her, especially when she is rehearsing for one of her plays! Say the lines with her, she appreciates it an extra bit! She always puts on her best performance when you are around. You bring her confidence and energy. When you come and watch her neighbourhood plays, she’s so happy seeing you in the crowd! If you volunteer to play a role in it? OH MY GOSH!!! Gives an extra good excuse to spend more time with you, too!

“Sally!” You called out after a show, catching the (literal) stars' attention. Her face (literally ;) ) lit up at the sight of you, rushing over to talk. 

“Hi! Did you like the show? How did I look? I made a mistake in that first scene, but I think I covered it up alright!”

“You did amazing,” you smiled, “so amazing, that I brought you these!” You removed your hands from behind your back, presenting a small bouquet of flowers to her. Her eyes widened in surprise, cheeks going red.

“Goodness, aren’t those pretty! You are just the sweetest to me,” she gave you a bright grin, examining the flowers. 

“You deserve it,” you replied.

this took forever, but in honour of the update, i decided to finally finish it to post! hi! it's been awhile, haha! if you saw my absolutely butchered spelling in eddie's, yes, i know it's bad. i don't know what was wrong with my spelling that day but i just noticed it again while getting this ready and had a little laugh! maybe you did too! now! i will probably disappear for another period of time, haha! i hope you enjoyed this different post of mine, and i will see you soon! i am also going to go through some old inbox messages! feel free to leave one at any time, i always love to hear your thoughts and talk to you, and i always check them! here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) a howdy fic, as well! these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

likes and reblogs are extremely appreciated! farewell, for now!

Posted Monday, July 25, 2023 at 2:45 PM

[yerimacoustic]

𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 ♡ jun x reader

❝ 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 ❞

summary : you find a sense of familiarity in your sworn rival, jun, while exchanging anonymous letters with a stranger .

content warnings : jun x female reader, regency era au, mostly inspired by you’ve got mail, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, more tags to come . teaser is 1.4k words, full fic tbd.

this is a teaser for a jun bug fic!! read full fic here i’m busy but i was so excited to get this out so i thought i’d post a little sneak peek. it’s probably history inaccurate bc idk shit i’m purely going off vibes

i’m trying to get a tag list going so lemme know if you want in!

the walk to the post office was not tedious by any means. not when the promise of a new response in the form of a handwritten letter prompted you to move quickly and lightly on your feet. it had become a weekly routine, early morning strolls to the post house, as well as an awfully great way to start the week. 

the postmaster, otherwise known as your childhood friend, jeonghan, stood completely still behind the main counter with his arms folded across his chest. there was a knowing, mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you quietly shut the door; he had been expecting you. just like he expected you every monday morning. 

it wasn’t long before the brunette pulled a small envelope from the series of shelves behind him, gently dropping it onto the counter between the two of you. “here you go. your gentleman’s love letter awaits.”

“good day to you too, mr. yoon,” you teased him and grabbed the envelope, taking note of the familiar wax seal in the front. a neat scarlet red circle with a lion in the center- the familiar sight always managed to bring a smile to your face. 

“hopefully he gives you some more clues as to his identity this week?” he called out to you as he strode across the tiny shop in favor of sweeping the floor. a look of feigned disappointment washed over his features as the sound of the bristles scratching across the floor and the envelope ripping open filled in the silence. “...perhaps not.”

just as your lips parted, the door swung open to reveal jeonghan’s assistant, karina. from the moment her eyes were fixed on yours, a mischievous glint akin to jeonghan’s filled her irises. “i thought i might find you here today. what news from the mysterious suitor?”

you shook your head before gesturing towards jeonghan, “i haven’t had the opportunity to read it yet. someone’s made sure of that.”

the man laughed from across the room, “it was never my attempt to keep you from reading it. i only wish that the two of you would at least give each other some hints as to who you really are.”

karina nodded in understanding before turning her back in favor of hanging her overcoat upon the rack near the entrance. “i hate to level with jeonghan in this case, but i’m curious about this mystery man, as well. have the two of you ever discussed meeting in person?”

“no, not at all. we’ve agreed to stay anonymous,” you explained as your fingers curled around the envelope in an almost protective grip. force of habit. “we know the risks but.. it’s quite refreshing, having someone to talk to without any of the societal pressures.” 

before too long, jeonghan had finished tidying up and joined the two of you near the entrance. “i don’t understand. you both are clearly fond of each other..”

“who said anything about-”

“and you have a lot in common,” jeonghan mused, eyebrows raised. “in your next response, you should ask him something personal. ask him about his occupation.”

without skipping a beat, you shook your head in protest. “thank you for your unsolicited advice, jeonghan, but i know everything i need to know about this man. good day, my friends.”

you waved goodbye to the inseparable pair, stepping towards the small door. of course jeonghan, who always had to have the last word, called out to you before you could shut it completely, “except for his true identity!”

his words prompted your lips to twist into a smirk as you finally found the right opportunity to open the letter. as you unfolded the piece of parchment, your smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, finding beautiful familiarity in the cursive penmanship. as you took cautious steps on the beaten path, you read the letter carefully:

‘this weekend i had the pleasure of accompanying my cousins as they vacationed in the countryside. they rent a small cottage near the ocean during the summertime and haven’t bothered to invite me until this year. i wish you could have seen it; it was perfectly quaint and tranquil. we spent all but the entirety of the seventy two hours walking along the beach and hunting for seashells. a bit of a juvenile hobby, i know.

i’m not sure where this inkling comes from, but something tells me you enjoy the oceanside. i bet you keep a collection of shells and pearls hidden somewhere in your home. or perhaps you proudly display them for your visitors to see. next time they permit me to join them near the beach again, remind me to fill this envelope with shells to add to your collection. 

i know summer is your favorite holiday, and with that being said, i hope you find enjoyment in the final days of the season. take a stroll along the gardens or picnic with some of your friends. 

take some time for yourself, my friend.’ 

–

jun waited three days for a reply, just as he did every week. he and his anonymous friend had fallen into a pattern of consistency, each of them sending a letter out to the other person once a week. even if he knew he could count on whoever this person was to send a timely response, his nerves got the best of him every time. the potential tone of the response occupied his thoughts at all times, keeping him up at night, keeping him from focusing intently on his work. 

this week it reached the point where he had to turn his chair around to face the window, hoping that the sight of the rolling hills and graying sky outside would clear his mind. summer seemed to come to an end as quickly as it had begun, the entire season passing by in the blink of an eye. he counted his blessings, realizing that he was indeed lucky to have at least one holiday during the season. even if it was at the very end.. 

a knock on the door pulled him out of his trance and he turned his chair back to rest in the proper position, tucked tightly under his desk. “come in,” he called out.

barely a minute had passed before jun’s personal assistant and lifelong friend, wonwoo, closed the door quietly behind him and strode towards his desk with an envelope in hand. “your mystery woman sends her compliments,” he mused, handing the letter to jun. 

jun’s eyes went wide. “you mean- you saw her??”

wonwoo shook his head, holding back an amused smirk as he watched the disappointment wash over jun’s features in real time. “no. my apologies.”

jun sighed, “just as well, i suppose. god only knows what chaos would unravel if anyone else in the household saw her.” 

wonwoo nodded stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. “right you are. maybe there is practicality in anonymity, after all.”

“still, i can’t help but wonder what she’s really like in person,” jun mused, leaning back in his large leather chair with his chin cupped between his thumb and index finger. “there are so many habits and manners of hers i don’t even know about. she could be.. much lovelier in person.”

the bespectacled man tilted his head, taking a completely different approach, “or she could be ill-favored and poorly mannered.” the quiet statement was enough to pull jun out of his daze, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “my apologies.” he repeated.

“there is no possible way someone who writes so beautifully is as ill favored as you say.” jun disregarded the man in front of him as he began to tear the seal off of the envelope, a silent command for wonwoo to leave him alone. conveniently enough, the door gently slammed shut once jun finally unfolded the small sheet of parchment. 

‘i am delighted to hear that you were able to enjoy the last remaining hours of the season with your family. the ocean sounds delightful. your suspicion of my enjoyment of seashells and pearls is a fair assumption, although, i gave up collecting a long time ago. hopefully you invest more stock in your collections than i did.

i’m afraid that i have no plans to take my leave before autumn begins as i’ve been much too busy. i don’t mind keeping an occupied schedule; it takes my mind off things and prevents me from overthinking. especially when i get the pleasure of meeting several people from different walks of life on a daily basis.

i know i say this every week, but it is always a pleasure receiving your letters. sometimes i can’t believe that we met through an anonymous literary discussion group. i’ve received a handful of letters from other attendees, but allow me to say that the discussions are utterly mundane compared to our conversations. it feels like i write to a friend i’ve known for years.

i eagerly await your reply, dear friend. 

[paullahoteslittleangel]

She works for embrys mom at her store and his mom is always trying to hook him up so when his mom is talking about u he says enough no more so when he’s visiting his mom he runs into u and his mom is ur guys #1 fan

Working for Tiffany definitely was interesting considering she was always trying to set you up with her son. You knew him from school but that was it. Sure, he's cute and a sweet guy, but you weren't exactly interested in dating at the moment.

"Ya knowww Y/N is single. She finally ditched that asshole she was with" Tiffany says wiggling her eyebrows at Embry. He rolls his eyes "Knock it off mom. She's not into guys like me." Tiffany looks at him with a questioning look. "So, you're telling me you don't think she could be into the most handsome, sweet and charming guy on the rez?" Embry shakes his head "Even if she was, I'm sure she isn't looking for a relationship. Her and that guy were together since they were 17. 6 years mom that's a long time to be with someone." "Okay fine. I'll leave it alone.... for now." Tiffany pats Embry on the back before walking out the door.

~~~~~~~~

You walk into the store ready to start your shift. Tiffany said she was going to come by later in the afternoon to bring change for the register. You started working on your daily tasks sweeping and wiping down surfaces and small other things that you knew Tiffany would be too busy to get to. The small bell above the door rings "Welcome in" you shout from the back of the store. "Hey. My mom wanted me to drop this off. She got busy." You look up and make eye contact with Embry. He stands there holding and envelope. His expression changes and looks at you with wide eyes. The whole world felt like it stopped moving. The ringing of the bell at the front snaps you both out of your trance. "Thanks" you say nervously. Embry shoves the envelope in your hand and rushes out the door.

The rest of your shift you kept thinking about the feeling you got when you looked Embry in the eyes. You couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. Your thoughts were interrupted when you hear the bell ring, you look up to see Embry standing there with one hand stuffed in his shorts and the other rubbing the back of his neck. "Can we talk?" he says nervously. "Uh Yea of course just let me finish closing up" you say.

"All done. ready to go?" you say with a smile. Embry nods his head, and you lead him out of the store and lock the door. He puts down the bed of his truck and you both hop into the back. "I'm sorry I ran out earlier. I kind of got a little spooked" he says with a small chuckle. "What happened? Did I do something to upset you?" Embry shakes his head. "No of course not. I didn't want to overwhelm you." You look at him confused. He lets out a long sigh "You remember the legends they would tell us at the bonfires growing up?" Of course you remembered. Growing up on the rez everyone knew the legends of the tribe. The wolves, Imprinting, all of it. "You imprinted on me, didn't you?" Embry nods slowly. You just start giggling earning a strange look from him. "Your mom is going to absolutely die when she finds out." Embry starts laughing with you. "You're right. she loves you. She literally has been bugging me to ask you out ever since you and that guy broke up." "Well, I guess she's getting what she's always wanted" You lean in and give Embry a passionate kiss. He hops down from the truck and stretches his hand out for you to take. "I suppose we should go tell her the news." Embry says while helping you down. You giggle "I suppose we should."

[quixotical-lymbo]

Hello there😁👋🏼

I would like to request another x reader headcannon if u can or have the energy😅.

May I have a Macaque x female dance reader. The reader loves dancing and probably knows most of it. Whether if they're nervous or not. Like break-dancing, ballet, salsa, tap dance, etc. Maybe they're in a dance group, does shows or something like that. They probably teach others how to dance or knows history of dances like who invented it and where it started(For example, if Billy Jean or Micheal Jackson created the Moon Walk). Stay healthy and sleep well😁🫶🏽❤️

-🍀

Pairing: Macaque x fem!dancer!Reader Rating: SFW Warnings/Tags: Fluff, 'nuff said. Word Count: 900+ words

🌙  Being in a relationship with Macaque meant learning new things about him through unintentional or riddle-like ways. 

🌙 The only reason you found out about his talent in shadow play was through MK. When you shared your love of dancing, which may or may not have been obvious, Macaque simply hummed but stored that information in his mind for later. 

🌙 Sometimes he'll ask you about it or 'reluctantly' assist you in whatever choreography you're practicing/preparing that requires two people. 

🌙 This is also how you found out your oh-so-humble monkey knew how to use his feet.

🌙 Nervous or not? Whether you're nervous about your ability or not, I think Macaque wouldn't bug you about it unless you came to him first. That, or he's in a playful mood and wants to disrupt your day in some way. 

🌙 Pulling you away from work/cooking/chores/etc and twirling you in his arms.

🌙 Appearing behind you while you're busy with something else and softly singing in your ear as he slowly guide you into a waltz. That kind of thing.

🌙 If you're versatile in different forms of dance, be prepared for Macaque to quickly fall from grace and stumble to keep up with you. 

🌙 I feel like he would be good in ballroom dancing, ribbon/fan dancing, and ballet. If you're good at break-dancing, salsa, and tap dance…you'll have the upper hand for a while until Macaque get's the hang of it. 

🌙 Dance group/partner? In a group, Macaque probably won't have much of an opinion about it. Having a dance partner? Practicing alone, together, just the two of you, without him? Well, I think he's petty enough to wait until you get home to sweep you off your feet and ask a few times whether or not he's better than your dance buddy. Even after you've reassured him multiple times, he'll be by your side like glue for the rest of the day/afternoon/night. 

🌙 Shows? Assuming that Macaque continues doing shadow plays, you'll attend each one just as he'll do for your shows. He might not be in the front row, but you'll be able to see the shadow of his figure admiring you from a distance away from the stuffy crowd. You two might even have your own signals to greet each other after the end of your shows, maybe a blow kiss or a wink in a particular direction. Just know that he's obsessed with seeing you doing the things you love the most. 

🌙 Teach others history/dancing? As much as he admires your patience in teaching others the wonders of your craft and the little tidbits of history he gets to ingest when you're together, he prefers intimate demonstrations over lectures.

🌙 Perhaps he'll act dumb while you're preparing for your next class and will ask you to show him a example of a type of dance you're preparing for your students. Even if you call him out on knowing the dance/history of said dance, he'll ask you to indulge him anyway. 

— 🌙  —

Fingers tapped away at the keyboard as your eyes strained to keep track of the words on the PowerPoint slide. The pedestal fan whirred in the background and occasionally blew in your direction as it did a 180 degree turn. You sighed as you leaned back to check the time on your phone.

11:40 PM 

Damn.

You pushed the blue light glasses against your temple before stretching your arms above your head, before you lowered them back onto the keyboard they were caught in someone's grip. You glanced up at the perpetrator and tiredly smiled at the dark furred monkey staring you down. 

"You're up late," Macaque mused as he kept your hands above your head. He glanced at the bright screen of your laptop and squinted. "Lesson plans again?"

"Mhm," You yawned before yelping as Macaque lowered your arms down before scooping you into his arms. Your back hit his chest as he plucked you from your chair and turned around with you curled against him. Thankfully, he lowered you onto your feet when the two of you entered the hallway leading to your bedroom. 

The moment he rested his hand on your waist and held one of your hands up you already knew what time it was. A breathless chuckle left you as you closed the distance between the two of you and laid your head on his shoulder.

Macaque's expression softened as he took the lead and swayed the two of you back and forth, the hand on your waist keeping you steady as he guided the two of you inside of your bedroom. 

Despite the lack of music, both of you moved in sync as if you've danced this dance a million times. It certainly felt that way.

As the back of your leg touched the edge of the bed, Macaque dropped his hand to your lower back and dipped you above the bed. 

You and Macaque stared at each other for a while; your hand running through his hair ever so slowly as his half-lidded gaze took in every little detail on your face. 

As the distance between your lips came to a close, you closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable kiss to come. 

Macaque had other plans and released his hold on you. 

"Wha-?!" You bounced a little as you were ruthlessly dropped onto the comfy bed of yours. 

Macaque only arched a brow and smirked before disappearing into a portal. 

"Jackass," You rolled your eyes and got ready for bed. 

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight!!

[nyoomfruits]

no. 18: Hot Single Parent and babysitter/nanny for mctwinks pls!!

18. hot single parent and babysitter/nanny

There’s a million things that lead up to Lando being broadcasted to the entire F1 watching world with a baby strapped to his chest, but the shortest version of it is this;

He’s in London for a gig, playing at some night club he’s already forgotten the name of, when Max texts him if he wants to go to the Silverstone GP. And Lando loves Silverstone, and he hasn’t been to a race in forever, so he says yes.

When he gets there, excited to watch some racing, he’s instead confronted with Max’s teammate Oscar Piastri, who is cute and serious and looking a little frazzled and holding a baby.

The baby, Oscar tells him, is his daughter Harper. His nanny bailed on him at the very last moment and everyone seems to be busy and he needs to find someone to take care of her right now so if Lando could move out of the way that would be great.

To which Lando opens his mouth and says, “I can watch her.”

So. Baby.

Harper is a pretty chill baby, all things considered. Oscar had been a bit hesitant to hand her over initially, but after the approval of Max and Lando’s assurance that his brother has kids and he knows  what he’s doing, he’d strapped the complicated baby carrier situation to Lando’s chest and given Harper a goodbye kiss on the top of her head before heading to the track.

And it’s not like Oscar and Lando are stranger to each other, either. They’d seen each other over the years, in the paddock whenever Lando came to visit, at parties. Most notably Max’s birthday party two years ago, where they stood outside and talked for nearly two hours, and Lando was so convinced they were going to kiss.

But they didn’t. So.

Harper babbles happily and Lando glances down at her, adjusting the giant baby proof headphones so they cover her ears properly. “Are you excited to watch your dad’s race, Harper?” He asks, to which Harper answers with a decisive, “Ba!” as she slams her fist against Lando’s shoulder.

“Me too, little bug, me too.” Lando says.

The race is pretty good. From where he’s sitting Lando has an excellent view of the track as well as the option to watch the screens for the parts he can’t see, and he entertains himself by pointing out things out to Harper, who mostly babbles happily and waves her fists around in answer.

When Max crosses the line in first, Oscar in second, Lando puts up Harper’s little hands in a cheer and she actually giggles. After that he makes his way back to the Red Bull Motorhome to wait for Oscar, stopping along the way to talk to some people he knows, most of whom give him very amused looks when they spot Harper.

He’s just taken a seat in hospitality, when he gets a text from his sister. You never tell me shit anymore :(((((  It says. Lando frowns. Attached is a message, and he nearly drops his phone when he opens it and sees what it is.

It’s a screenshot from the live broadcast, showcasing Lando and Harper, clearly in deep conversation about something on track. Lando hadn’t even noticed the camera had been on them. But that. That isn’t really the important part. The important part is the caption.

The intention, Lando hopes, must have been for it to say ‘Lando Norris; professional DJ, holding Oscar Piastri’s baby’.

Instead, it says, ‘Lando Norris; professional DJ, Oscar Piastri’s baby’.

“Oh go-“ he glances at Harper. “-Goody,” he finishes. His friends are never going to let this go. Max is going to have a field day. Maybe he can just ignore it ever happened. Sweep it under the rug. Pretend-

“Hey baby,” Oscar Piastri says, appearing next to his table.

Lando cringes. “Ah,” he says, “you saw.”

Oscar shrugs, seeming entirely too chill about the whole thing. “Max saw it, on the big screens. Mentioned it in the cool down room.” Which is Oscar speak for ‘teased him relentlessly about it’, probably. Lando winces in sympathy. “I’m sorry,” Oscar continues.

“Nah, not your fault,” Lando says, waving his hand around. “Besides,” he adds, trying very hard to keep a straight face and not do something embarrassing like blush. “It’s not the worst thing to be, you know. Your baby.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, and his cheeks turn an absolutely delightful shade of pink, and suddenly it’s just like two years ago, standing in the courtyard of a club Lando’s long forgotten, staring into Oscar’s deep brown eyes like they’re the only two people on earth.

Which they’re not, as Harper gladly reminds them by choosing that exact moment to say, “Aga ba,” and slamming her fist against Lando’s cheek.

Oscar’s demeanor changes immediately, his smile mellowing out in something so soft it tugs at Lando’s heart as he reaches for her daughter, who twists around to face him and lets out a delighted string of babbles.

Lando unstraps her and hands her over, watching as Oscar quietly asks her how her afternoon was and then getting the softest, fondest look on her face when she babbles happily, albeit completely nonsensically, back at him.

“Thanks, for watching over her.”

“Yeah,” Lando says, standing up himself. “No problem. Anytime.” Anytime, all the time, forever if you’d let me. God, he’s pathetic. A cute guy is nice to him twice and he’s immediately willing to go down on one knee.

“Right,” Lando says, and there’s a moment, a small moment, where Oscar looks at him expectantly, and he thinks fuck it. I could just ask him out. We could make it work. But then he looks at Harper, still cradled in Oscar’s arms. Thinks about his schedule for the upcoming week, which is so incredibly full he’s going to have to ask his PA if she can please schedule him time to breathe, and realizes that no matter how much he might want this, it’s just not possible for them.

Being Oscar Piastri’s baby is always going to be just a meme on the internet.

“Well,” he finally says, shoves his hands in his pockets. “See you around.”

Something flickers, in Oscar’s face. Disappointment, maybe. Or maybe Lando’s just projecting. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. It isn’t going to change anything.

He leaves the Red Bull Hospitality without looking back.