#but that is just. another Task that i keep putting off until the last minute | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

souliebird · 5 months ago

Text

[[and then I met you || ch 22]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

ao3 link

It takes you a little over an hour to get Minnie to go down for bed. Tomorrow is her birthday party and to say she is excited is an understatement. She was practically jumping off the walls and it took three different books, a bottle, and two lullabies to finally get her to drift off. You are thankful when she doesn’t sit up again and call for you after five minutes, because you have a lot to do.

You need to clean up the apartment and decorate, you need to prepare pancake batter for a princess style breakfast, you need to finish wrapping presents, and you need to set up the couch for Matt. He will be coming by after his Patrol so he can stay the night and Minnie can wake up to the surprise of him being there, which is the perfect way to start her celebratory weekend.

But before any of that, you need to go take a shower so you can have a proper breakdown.

When you were younger, you believed crying was a sign of weakness. Your parents had treated it as such, always dismissive if you cried. The reason had never mattered - shedding tears was pointless and for children, so you had learned to bottle everything up and push it all down until the act of crying physically hurt you. Only very recently did you accept that crying is healthy.

You still hate doing it, though, and the only way you have found to balance your shame and your need for that emotional release is to treat it like another task you need to accomplish.

You triple check your daughter is truly asleep before you close the door to the bathroom and start the water. You keep yourself composed as you strip and only once you are under the spray do you let the tears start to fall.

So much has happened in such a short time and your anxiety has been through the roof.

The first bill for your hospital stay arrived today and you have been too scared to open it. You are terrified to go back into medical debt - giving birth in the United States had drained a lot of your savings and you have built it back up. You know there are all sorts of hidden fees, and you are going to need to do so much work contacting the various billing offices to try to get prices down.

It isn’t even like you are fully recovered from being in the hospital in the first place. You only just finished your antibiotics last week and your ear still randomly throbs or rings.

But honestly, you don’t know if that is from being sick or almost having your head bashed in.

You thought you would be okay after the attack. You thought Minnie would be the one with problems - having nightmares and jumping at shadows - but after the first day of making sure you were okay, she’s been fine. You haven’t been.

You’ve been plagued with nightmares about hands around your neck. You’ve been jumping at shadows when you leave the apartment.

You keep constantly checking your locks and you debate ordering pepper spray.

You don’t know what to do.

You aren’t okay.

You don’t feel safe.

The only time you have felt secure is when Matt was there to hold you and remembering such only signals your brain to send a new wave of tears.

He confuses you in a way no one else ever has.

You have never met anyone who cares so much before. It is overwhelming how much he loves Hell’s Kitchen - enough so to become a vigilante to protect it - and it is overwhelming how much he loves Minnie. You thought only you could love her that much.

Seeing them together does things to your heart you don’t understand. You just want to watch them play and bond until the end of time. They smile and laugh, and it is the only time you ever feel Whole. You feel like everything is perfect when the three of you are together.

You don’t know what to make of that. You don’t trust yourself with it - you’ve never felt like that before and you are scared that if you think too hard about it, you’ll find a flaw and the feeling will be ruined.

You just want Matt to hold you while the two of you watch Minnie play and that isn’t an okay fantasy for you to have. You don’t have that type of relationship with him.

He is a naturally touchy person with a huge heart. You’ve seen him hug Karen and Foggy before and you know he has only ever wrapped his arms around you to comfort you.

And he wants to comfort you because you are the mother of his child. He wouldn’t be around if it weren’t for Minnie and that is something you need to remind yourself of.

Matt loves Minnie. Family is extremely important to him, and he has told you time and time again that he strives to be the best dad possible for her - so of course that means he needs to take care of you and make sure you have a positive relationship.

If you and Matt butt heads, that wouldn’t be what was best for Minnie.

You need to do what is best for Minnie.

Which means you need to stop crying and get to work.

You wipe at your tears until they start to slow, then wash your face while still under the spray. It takes a minute or two for you to fully calm down, but once you do, it is like the tap is turned off. Crying time is over, so you stop your shower and quickly dry off so you can get dressed.

You feel better, but in a kind of dull way. It is like all the pressures in your life have been turned down to something more manageable and you know you will be able to focus on your tasks without slipping into a panic attack.

The apartment is not nearly as dirty as you believed it to be. You have to straighten some things up and you take the time to wipe down all the flat surfaces, but after that, you start putting things up. There’s a pink and yellow Happy Birthday banner and you blow up a few inflatables you found shaped like flowers and stick them to the walls. You twirl streamers together to decorate the back of the couch and the dining chairs, and your favorite piece is the pink sparkle fringe to hang over the hallway entrance. It isn’t the most elaborate of set ups, but you know Minnie will love it and that is all that matters to you.

Once your living space is Birthday themed, you turn to the kitchen. You went shopping today to make sure you had everything needed for a spectacular breakfast. You found a recipe for extra fluffy pancakes, and it seems easy enough - it calls for letting the batter rest overnight and you particularly like that as it is one less thing to do in the morning while trying to handle a rowdy toddler.

It doesn’t take long to get everything prepped and before you know it, it has been close to two hours since you put Minnie down to sleep and you feel it is finally safe to bring her presents out of their hidey holes to be wrapped.

She has grown a bit since you last bought her clothes, so you got her a nice little haul, including a new princess dress for her to wear to the zoo. It has sparkles and tulle and the dress comes with a matching crown you just know she won’t want to take off. You are extremely proud of the find.

You didn’t just get her clothes, though. Minnie has been more and more interested in helping you cook, so you got her a little kitchen play set. It comes with pots and pans, knives, utensils, bowls, plates, and some fake food. You thought it would be fun to have her practice her skills - she’s a pro at helping you stir and mix, and she knows how to use a butter knife to cut up fruit. You hope she enjoys pretending to wash her dishes, so you lure you into helping into that part of cooking, but you don’t think anyone finds that chore fun.

Before you can start wrapping, you need to go through everything and remove all the tags and stickers. It is a boring activity that takes far too long, so you decide you are going to multitask while doing so. You grab your laptop and notebook and settle down among your pile of bags.

Since your talk with Matt about Daredevil, you have been in research mode. The first few nights, you read every article you could find about the Devil. You started with the reputable sources - purely focusing on news reports - and once you had a timeline of events down, you switched to opinion pieces. You quickly ended up sorting those into three categories - positive outlooks, negative outlooks, and outlooks written by Karen Page.

You took notes on everything - making pro and con lists on each major event and circling back to jot down questions you had. You felt insane - and frankly a little invasive - but it was how you processed things. You wanted it all laid out nicely in front of you so you could come to your own conclusions.

But to get to that final conclusion, you still have a lot of internet sleuthing to do, so you open up a new internet tab.

One of the most important things you want to know about Daredevil is how real people feel about him. Published articles are always biased - it is in their nature to be based purely on who produces them - but social media lets the mass in on the conversation. You learned that well after the Attack on New York.

You remember the majority of the news singing praise for the Avengers and how they saved the Earth - which you truly did appreciate - but no one came and spoke to the people whose lives had been ruined. Sure, they talked about how much destruction had happened and how much it would cost to rebuild, but no one had mentioned how Hell’s Kitchen and Chelsea had been almost flattened. No one cared about the low-cost homes that had been destroyed or the poor people crushed in debris - not when they could talk about the Big Bank buildings the Hulk had run through. Why talk about those genuinely affected when you could bring in a mouthpiece who was halfway across the world?

Iron Man didn’t give two shits about the people whose lives he saved. If he did, he’d help them in the aftermath, and he didn’t. None of the Heroes did - they started going around the world while an uncaring government was left to clean up the mess. Repairs went to the lowest bidder and many things were deemed too expensive and just left to crumble.

But only internet forums and ten second social media videos talked about that.

Matt talks so passionately about helping people in Hell’s Kitchen, so you need to know if it is real, or just all a puff piece.

You look first into the forums and to your surprise, there is a whole section for New York vigilantes. You resist the urge to dive into the threads about Spider-Man and the Hero of Harlem and you have to scroll to the bottom of the front page to find something about Daredevil.

It is CCTV footage of Daredevil chasing off what looks to be some teenagers trying to rob a pawn shop and there are a few dozen comments under it. You smile as you start to read them - the majority of it is praise for Matt, with the few negative comments being about the quality of footage.

And each thread you find about Daredevil is like that. You expected to see issues with excessive force like you saw in the opinion pieces, but there is nothing. People who you can tell are locals all comment about how he doesn’t hurt kids, and his punishments reflect the severity of the crime. Muggers get a few good swats while those who commit domestic violence are given as good as they gave. It is gang members and real dangers who end up in the hospital. There are about a handful of posts giving firsthand accounts of how the Devil helped them - ranging from them being in serious danger to Matt helping a drunk woman safely get a cab.

From what you can see, the people who post in this forum like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and genuinely feel safer with him around. The site is a little niche, though, so you switch to a more popular platform to see if you can find different opinions and different opinions you find.

Just not the ones you expected.

There is a new picture of the Devil that has gained traction in his tag that is rather good quality - Matt is squatting on a roof, seemingly observing a street, and is framed in such a way to show off his lower half. His thighs, which you know are all muscle, are highlighted wonderfully and the angle of the photo only emphasizes his backside. His upper back and shoulders are all in shadow, but you can tell just how broad they are.

Twitter absolutely loves the image, and you think you have to agree with them. You can feel your cheeks heating up and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the screen.

Matt is beyond physically attractive, and it is no wonder the internet is lusting after him. There is a litany of lewd comments from multiple people and one made by a user with a cartoon frog as their profile picture has your core twitching and you quickly hide your face in your hands.

“imagine him bending you over a rooftop and fucking you until all you can do is drool ♥”

You don’t want to think dirty thoughts about Matt. It makes you feel awkward and guilty but mostly they make you Want, and you desperately want to bat that away.

You very obviously have slept with him before and know what a good lover he is. You know what his skin feels like against yours and your mouth goes dry at the memory of how loudly he moaned while between your legs. His stamina is no joke, and you can only imagine it has improved since he’s started being a vigilante.

You have no doubt he could easily fuck someone stupid.

You tell yourself you can’t think like this - you are supposed to be researching Daredevil to figure out how you feel about Matt being a vigilante - not ogling pictures of his ass and remembering your night together.

You gently smack your cheeks a few times and tell yourself to focus.

That only serves to make you more flush, so you make the executive decision that you have had enough screen time for the night and slam shut your laptop.

You have removed all the tags from the clothes, and you only have a few UPC stickers to pull off fake food, so you hurry through those so you can get to actually wrapping presents and not thinking about what you saw.

It is easy for you to get quickly lost in this new activity. Your perfectionist nature has you needing to make sure every crease is even and crisp and that each present looks picturesque, and you can't do that while distracted. Your thoughts shift from the way Matt’s breath felt against your skin to how many gifts Minnie has and how each one needs to look unique.

You know Minnie is going to tear through them like a wildfire, but it is important to you to make sure love is poured into everything.

You never got that as a child. Your birthdays were practical affairs and more often than not your present was to go clothes shopping, so you didn’t get to unwrap things or have that grand surprise. You don’t want that for Minnie. You want her to feel like an absolute princess on her special day and if that means rewrapping the same present four times to make it perfect, then that is what you will do.

You are finalizing bow placements on the gift bags you had to use for odd shaped items when your phone vibrates with an alert.

For a split second you are confused - it is rather late, and you’ve muted most app notifications - but then you remember Matt is meant to be coming over.

You don’t know how it could have slipped your mind and embarrassment burns through you.

How are you going to face him after staring at a picture of his ass until your brain broke?

You hesitate to check your phone, but when you do, you obviously have a text from him saying he is on his way. You groan to yourself, wondering how you can save yourself from this awkward situation?

Maybe you can go to bed early. You aren’t at all tired - you usually are up for another few hours - but you have a long weekend ahead of you. You will need rest.

In your bed.

Where Matt will not be.

Because, for the first time in a while, he will be sleeping on the couch.

Which you still need to prepare.

You finish fussing with Minnie’s bounty of presents and set about arranging them up the Happy Birthday banner like it is a Christmas tree. You have to resist your urge to nitpick and instead turn your focus to cleaning up your mess. You hurriedly shove the pile of trash you made into a bag so you can toss it and your wrapping supplies are tucked into the back of the closet, where they will live until you need them again.

You do a quick once over to make sure everything is neat and birthday ready before you fetch your spare pillow and blanket.

You try to not feel guilty as you start making up the couch. You know it isn’t the most comfortable and Matt will probably be sore after doing God knows what all night, but you can’t offer him your bed again. There is no reason for him to be in your bed. As frantic as you are, you don’t need any comforting.

You just need to stop thinking.

But not in that way.

“Stop,” you hiss at yourself. “Stop being a slut. Pure thoughts. Have pure thoughts.”

Scolding yourself does not work as well as you mean it to and all you can do is pour your concentration into folding and refolding the blanket. You roll it up tight first like it is a sleeping bag, then you think that is stupid, so you fold it into a triangle. You realize that is trying way too hard, so into a square it goes.

The knock at the door startles you and to your credit, you don’t scream.

You do, however, bury your face into your hands again and take a deep breath. You are panicking over nothing. Everything is just fine. You are overthinking.

You mentally chant that mantra as you go to the door. You hesitate to open it, needing the extra moment to center yourself, and you are surprised you don’t automatically close it again at the sight of Matt.

His normal daytime attire is a suit, and he wears them like a model, but you much prefer him dressed down as he is now. He’s in a t-shirt and joggers, with a five o’clock shadow and fluffed up hair, and he looks devastatingly handsome. He looks friendly and soft, but everything is just tight enough to show off how toned he is.

Your body reacts exactly like it did to the picture, but this time you can’t hide.

So, you run instead.

“Come on in,” you practically squeak out before hurrying to get out of his way. He’s got a gym bag with him - probably to carry his clothes for tomorrow - and your entryway isn’t the largest. It makes sense for you to go back to the living room.

“Busy night?” He asks as he closes and locks the door, and you are completely thrown by the question. You must make a confused noise, because he follows up with, “You are out of breath, is everything okay?”

Your heart starts to beat hard in your chest and you can feel your entire body getting hot. Of course, he can tell what is going on with your body and you are nearly in full panic mode.

You need to get to bed and away from him.

You fail at keeping your composure by gesturing around the living room, “Yeah - um - just been busy. Decorating and stuff - it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“It is,” Matt agrees, a charming and boyish smile creeping onto his lips. You tell yourself he must be excited for Minnie’s birthday and that is why he is in such a nice mood.

“How was..how was your night?”

He hums at the question, moving to set his bag down by the couch, “It was relatively quiet. With school starting up again and the heat, the younger crowd isn’t out. I made a few laps but didn’t find anything worth going after.”

“So, there isn’t like…crime every night?” You ask, trying to wrap your head around it all. You haven’t actually asked what a Patrol consists of, so you don’t know what the average one is like.

“Despite what everyone thinks, no. There’s a good number of nights where I just keep things tidy, but being out helps to deter people as well. Not every night is drug busts and gang wars.”

“That is good to know.” And it is - it helps to ease your anxiety that he is out there constantly boxing people. People say New York is crime ridden, but it is not nearly as bad as it is made out to be. It is all scare tactics and sensational news - like the Satanic Panic.

Matt hums again, then tilts his head back towards where you hung the birthday banner, “That is a lot of presents.”

His smile is still bright, and you have to duck your head and bite your lip to keep your mind in check. Your mouth, as always, is quick to quip, “I’m not telling you what is in them. It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise, huh?” He teases, before kneeling down by his bag and unzipping it. You can see colorful wrapping paper peeking through, and you instantly wonder what sort of gift is inside.

“A surprise,” you repeat. “It isn’t any fun if everyone knows what is inside before it is opened.”

“I’ll concede to that, even if it is tempting to peek.” As he says this he stands up, holding three different sized packages in his hands. They aren’t as pristinely wrapped as yours, but you can tell great care went into it and you wonder if Matt did it himself.

“Foggy said they will come over around noon,” he says like you aren’t on the verge of a crisis. “And Maggie was hoping we could stop by on the way to the park. I told her it would be up to you, but I know she has a few things for Minnie. We’re probably going to need to bring that wagon you got.”

The idea of so many people coming to your apartment for a party - especially a toddler’s birthday party - boggles your mind but your heart soars that so many people want to celebrate your daughter. You watch as he goes to add the gift pile and that confusing feeling swirls in your chest again, reminding you this is everything you ever wanted for Minnie. Matt being in your life means more people to love your daughter like she deserves.

“Okay,” you say because that is all your mind can produce. When Matt begins to stand again, you go into a panic thinking he might say something to start a conversation and blurt out, “I should get ready for bed.”

He turns to you, and you don’t know what to expect, but it is not for him to look bemused. He raises his eyebrows over his glasses and lets out a huff of a laugh, “It’s a big day tomorrow. You should get your rest.” He isn’t condescending or rude about it, but you can definitely hear the hint of teasing.

Your face burns as you nod and stupidly repeat, “It’s a big day.” You clear your throat to try and regain some composure and point towards the couch, “I, uh, left you out pillows and a blanket. The..uh..remote for the fan is on the coffee table. I readded the labels after Minnie tore them off.”

“Thank you,” he says with full sincerity, and you cannot take any more of his charm and muscular biceps.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” you tell him as you start to back up towards the bedroom. You know you should tell him about the fringe covering the hallway, but you just want to flee and hide under your covers until your brain stops all of its nonsense.

“Okay.”

As you finally let yourself turn away from Matt, he says your name just loud enough for you to barely hear it. You freeze in place, but it is like your blood is boiling inside you. You breathe out his name in response.

“Good night.”

((“I love you.”))

a/n: orz please take this offering of a chapter - my brain is not working up to standard.

Also - Tomorrow is a Big Day

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

382 notes · View notes

joequiinn · 1 month ago

Text

When the Wolfsbane Blooms | part ii | e.m. x reader au

Summary | September 1916. Edward Munson is back in Hawkins after 13 years, returning to live with his uncle who serves as groundskeeper to the Talbot Estate. Upon his return it’s as if nothing has changed... except the Talbot daughter, who wasn’t nearly so striking back when they were children. But a strange danger seems to coincide with Eddie’s arrival, and all it takes is one fateful night to expose him to exactly what this danger is…

Tags & Warnings | 18+, angsty horror romance, fem reader, depictions of violence and death, smut and nsfw themes, reader last name for plot purposes, use of some 3rd person narrative, historical inaccuracies

A.N | Thank you to everyone who has shown love for the fic thus far, this has been such a beast to work on, but I love every minute of it! I'm a little biased towards this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do 👀

W.C | 12.5k

!! MINORS DNI !!

“... through no fault of your own…”

As planned, you ventured to the gardens post-supper, a book in hand to keep yourself preoccupied should Eddie be delayed. Your father seemed none the wiser to your plans, far as you could tell, unaware of your lilac dress in need of a cleaning, unaware of your evening rendezvous to come. As had become habit as you grew older, he visited the library for brandy and a cigar following your evening meal, and you went off to read either by the fire or on a bench amongst the rose bushes.

It was a comfortable existence, the one shared between the two of you, albeit also a lonely one. Your father was certainly capable of affection, but he was never good at showing it; for a man with a whirlwind of emotions constantly present in his eyes, he had the irritating habit of keeping them all to himself. He showed love and care from a distance, and you couldn’t begrudge him for that, although in your younger years it often left you wondering if perhaps there was something wrong with you.

For your entire life, it was always just the two of you and the half-dozen staff of the house - you never knew your mother, and your father was entirely disinterested in the prospect of ever taking another wife. In fact, it seemed as if sometimes he was fearful of the idea, as if there was some unseen danger in taking a new bride. He often seemed too preoccupied for such trivial things as romance, although what could possibly keep his mind so busy, you didn’t know even to this day; managing the estate and businesses was certainly a demanding task, but he’d always had staff and advisors to assist with such things. You figured that it was his emotions that wouldn’t allow him to commit his time to anything else, even something so simple as spending an evening by the fire with his daughter.

What he did make time for, frustratingly enough, was your recent engagement, made purely out of arrangement given your family’s position in society. You’d always known a convenient marriage was expected of you, despite the changing of society, but you’d also always hoped foolishly that you could put it off until you found a suitor on your own. But considering that you were already 24 years of age, the clock of expectation was ticking, and so your father had set up an engagement with a local family of similarly high standings.

The man was fine enough, from a decent family that wasn’t so stuffy that it made you want to rip your hair out. But he was terribly boring, completely and utterly incompatible with your wild ideas and your lust for life. It was evident that he didn’t quite see women as people - they were mothers or wives or daughters, they weren’t meant to have ambitions and aspirations. And as infuriating as that perspective was to you, you nonetheless thought you could at least tolerate such a man once you became his wife - after all, better he be boring than cruel, for boring could be ignored.

But with Edward Munson showing up after all these years away, suddenly you weren’t so confident in your tolerance for boring people.

You knew better than to become swept up in your childhood fantasies, you were logically aware of how silly you were to become excited at the mere prospect of Eddie as a concept. But you just couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t resist the ache you felt for your long-lost friend. Up until today, you admittedly hadn’t thought about him in a number of years; it’s not that he was ever truly forgotten, but you had accepted long ago that you two weren’t going to see each other ever again, and you had to become okay with that idea.

So, to have Eddie turn up entirely unannounced after all this time was a shock to your system, like the sensation of jumping into a freezing lake on a hot day; you were suddenly submerged in the thought of him, having dived in head first like a fearless child.

Now that you had Eddie back, you missed him so deeply, mourned the possibilities of what life would have been like had he stayed in Hawkins with you. And yes, you certainly knew that you were getting caught up in your excitement of finally having him home, but you also weren’t going to deny yourself the joys of his company. After all, it wouldn’t be long now until you were someone else’s wife - you may as well delight in your freedoms while you still have them, especially if those delights were in Eddie’s hands.

And so, you eagerly awaited his company, the sun low enough now that you could no longer read your book from where you sat. You could have moved closer to the house where light shined out through the windows, but you hadn’t been particularly interested in the novel to begin with; all while you’d been staring at the pages, your mind had been elsewhere.

So, you set the book aside and looked about, growing nervous as you anticipated Eddie’s arrival; you suspected that he was waiting until the sun had disappeared entirely beyond the horizon, nervous of being caught alone with you now that you both were all grown up. Since childhood, he’d feared the wrath of your father, especially after the day you two were found in the abandoned chapel - that was a terrifying and altering experience for you as well, so you certainly couldn’t blame Eddie for his reservations.

After that day, your father had never looked upon the boy in quite the same way, had never trusted you with him like he used to. He’d still let the two of you play together, but you weren’t to go beyond his sight, forced to keep to the gardens or the front lawn so that someone may always keep a watchful eye. And then only a short few years after that, Eddie was gone, and although he never said as much, you knew your father was relieved for it.

Something that had stirred your childish fears at the time was how that day at the chapel seemed to coincide with a spike of animal attacks in the area; you began to associate the two events in your mind, foolish as that may have been. The howling of a wolf at night would enter your dreams and turn them to nightmares, where you were trapped in the confines of the chapel and cornered by a monster. For weeks, this wolf seemed on rampage, attacking livestock and even going so far as to harm a few town citizens. But somehow, the animal was never caught.

Eventually, the danger faded away, eventually the attacks stopped and the cries of the animal no longer haunted you. But to your eight year old brain, it seemed the wolf was angered by your trespassing in the chapel, it seemed that you and Eddie had provoked it into such extreme violence; since then, you’d always secretly harbored a fear of wolves.

So, much like your irrational, childish fear of wolves, your father’s anxieties seemed utterly illogical to you. They’d led to disagreements and fights throughout the years, and to this day you never quite understand why he held such resentment towards your childhood friend.

Footsteps upon the stone path caught your attention and drew you out of your reverie; eagerly you jumped to your feet, heart fluttering in your chest with impatience. Although it was perhaps dumb, you ducked into the shadow of the nearest tree, your giddiness prompting you to behave so childishly, as if to make up for the times you two had lost. You listened and waited, hearing the careful steps come closer and closer until they were finally upon you.

Eddie hadn’t spotted you, pausing to pick up your book from the nearby bench, looking left and right in search of you; you held in a laugh as he continued forward, straining his neck as if that may help him find you faster. You ever so carefully tiptoed up behind him, mindful of the way your shoes would click against the path; you had one hand cupped over your mouth to maintain your silence, and once Eddie was finally within reach, you lashed out, quickly pressing your fingers into his sides to startle him.

“Eddie!” You whisper-shouted at the same moment, causing him to jump and exclaim with a harsh hiss, dropping the book he’d just picked up. He whipped around quickly to give you a reprimanding look as you laughed, pressing both hands to your mouth so that you wouldn’t be too loud. The startled furrow of Eddie’s brows made your laughter more raucous, and you doubled over, finding the whole thing far more amusing than it actually was.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile with an annoyed twist to his mouth, setting one hand atop your shoulder as he pressed an insistent finger to his lips, “Shh, I don’t want to be caught.”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you began to calm yourself, although giggles still escaped you as you feigned an innocent look. You gave his chest a comforting pat, your wide grin nearly comical.

“We won’t be caught.” You said with the utmost confidence, holding his eyes to make it clear just how certain of that you were. Eddie shook his head at your antics, but didn’t argue, his eyes sparkling with happiness in the moonlight. He picked up the fallen book, dusting it off carefully before holding it out towards you.

“Yours, I presume?” You smiled graciously, taking the book back and holding it close to your chest. For a long beat, the two of you simply drank each other in, silently admiring one another as if you were both works of art. Eddie cleared his throat, while looking down at his feet, meeting your eyes with a little more care, “Shall we?”

You nodded with a sweet smile, the expression only growing more dazzling when Eddie offered his arm for you; hooking your hand in the crook of his elbow, you gave him a surprised look, “When did you learn to behave like a gentleman?”

Eddie laughed with a dip of his head, the two of you aimlessly walking down the garden path, “Sometime between when I last saw you and now.”

You rolled your eyes at the answer, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. With no smart response, you suddenly found yourself growing nervous, although you weren’t sure why; perhaps you feared having nothing to say? Maybe you worried the silence meant this little fantasy would fall apart already? You bit your lip while glancing up at Eddie’s handsome face, wondering if similar fears weighed heavy on his brain.

“Did you miss me?” You blurted out, drawing his attention back.

“Well, you’re not very polite, are you?” Eddie teased with a snarky grin, which made your ears feel warm. You two were heading in the direction of the hedge maze, as if you both knew that’s where the other wanted to go. Sighing deeply, Eddie looked away from you, “Of course I did, especially that first year. There weren’t many friends to be had when every week we were in a new town… I thought about you often.”

He peeked at you bashfully, your warm smile making him nervous, “And after that first year?”

“I had to let you go.” Eddie shook his head as if the thought of it still upset him, still filled him with regret, “Couldn’t spend every day and night worrying over the girl I left behind.”

The sad way he said it made you smile with longing, recalling the wretched few months following his departure and how difficult that time was for you, “I missed you as well; for a while, life was so dreadful without your company.”

Approaching the maze, you considered all the things that had happened the past thirteen years, wondering how you could possibly catch Eddie up on all the things you wanted to share. You wanted to tell him about the time you dipped your toes into the pond only for a leech to grab hold of you; the time you’d meandered into the garden feeling so lonely that his uncle put a trowel in your hand and taught you how to properly dig up dead plants. Or perhaps of your studies of botany, a passion that always kept you company on quiet days.

A depleting thought crossed your mind then, and you stole a glance up at Eddie’s face in consideration - before things went on any further, before you hurt him or led him on, it was only right to mention your annoying little engagement. Feeling the burn of your eyes, Eddie paused and looked at you curiously, knowing your expressions so well that he knew something was irritating you quite suddenly.

“What, don’t tell me my company already bores you.” He teased with that playful grin, to which you couldn’t help but smile back at.

No, you didn’t want to ruin the moment when it had only just begun. So, you shook your head and gave his arm a light tug, continuing the walk into the hedge maze, “No, you could never bore me, Eddie.”

The two of you entered the cozy maze that you’d memorized together so many years ago; you had spent hours trying to find markers and hints as to which direction to go, running back and forth from the start to the end until the both of you could confidently make it through without any help from the other. You wondered if Eddie could still remember his way through the hedges just as well as you.

He guided you around the first familiar turn, and you smiled to yourself - he could remember that much, at least, even if it was muscle memory. As if he knew what you were thinking, Eddie paused and shot you a mischievous look.

“Did you think I forgot?” He leaned in towards you with a challenging gleam in his eyes; you nodded smally, “We spent countless days playing here together - my mind wouldn’t let me forget this maze even if I wanted to. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dreamt of it.”

Rising to the bait, you puffed up your chest a little, removing your hand from his arm, “Oh really? Well, in that case, shall we see who can complete it faster?”

Eddie laughed, his eyes spirited and daring, happy to engage in play, “And what is there to win for the one of us that proves victorious?”

Your heart skipped as if the question were provocative; you took a step closer to Eddie, nearly chest to chest as you gazed up through your lashes, whispering with an airy suggestiveness, “Perhaps that’s for the winner to decide.”

“You speak with such confidence - I hope it isn’t going to your head.”

“And you speak with such determination - I’d hate to see you lose.”

The air was tense as you smiled at one another like scheming children, Eddie eventually took a step back while crossing his arms, tongue wetting his lower lip. You rose your chin defiantly, brow arching as you awaited his response. Eddie narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, Miss Talbot.” He uncrossed his arms to reach into his coat and extract a pocket watch, “Let’s see if you’re up for the challenge. I’ll wait for you at the end of the maze and see just how quickly you can manage it.”

You looked between him and the simple silver watch, “And how will you know when to start the time?”

“Do you remember your bird calls?” The both of you nearly laughed at the question.

“I’m rusty, but I can manage. How do you know I won’t cheat the call, send out my whistle when I’m already halfway through?”

Eddie leaned down with a false threat, eyes piercing into yours as he whispered in a risque tone, “I’m trusting you.”

His voice made you shiver with excitement, but you tried to hide it, just as you tried to hide the way you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself, “Foolish.”

“No one’s accused me of being a fool before.” He pretended that he was offended, taking a flamboyant step away from you. You grinned like a cheshire cat, delighting in your banter.

“Then I’m pleased to be the first.” You teased, causing Eddie to narrow his eyes once more.

“Have you grown more troublesome since I left?”

“Oh, yes, I assure you that I have. Now, let’s start the race, Mr. Munson.” You two shared a playful look of disagreement before Eddie began to jog around the hedge maze, following its exterior walls towards the other side.

You waited impatiently until you heard the chickadee call that the two of you used to practice as kids, the sound making you laugh to yourself. Licking your lips while recalling how to properly make the familiar sound, you called back and began a mad dash through the hedge maze, scooping your skirts up into your hands so as not to trip in your hurry. You took the turns tightly, nearly stumbling over your shoes and loose rocks; the dark of the night made the depths of the maze harder to decipher, but your muscle memory kept you in line, determined to win this childish little race you were now in the midst of.

When you’d finally reached the end, you very nearly crashed into Eddie, who managed to catch you as you both stumbled a few feet. You breathed deeply while trying to catch your breath, your wild eyes meeting Eddie’s as you steadied yourself with your hands upon his chest. Eddie smiling widely back down at you.

“I forgot to check the time.” Your face dropped, balking at Eddie in disbelief. But only moments later, he broke out into impish laughter, giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze as you heaved a sigh of relief and slapped his chest.

“Not funny!” You scolded, although all conviction was lost considering that you were laughing along with him.

“Relax, will you?” Eddie held up the pocket watch, announcing your time to you as he placed it in your hand. With a charming grin, Eddie began the walk back around the maze, leaving you to wait for his bird call once more; you kept the clock face turned up to the sky so that the moon kept it illuminated.

Once the chickadee call met your ears, you kept your eyes trained on the watch, giddy to see if Eddie may possibly beat your time. The seconds seemed to move oh-so slowly since he wasn’t within your sight, and for a long while not even the sound of his footfall met your ears. But then you could hear the scuffing of shoes against stone and you began to grow nervous, worried that he would win this race with no real stakes.

Your time came and went, and a victorious grin spread across your face; moments later, Eddie came bursting out of the maze, stumbling much like you had as he skidded to a halt. You moved to him quickly, the self-satisfied look on your face causing him to narrow his eyes as he steady himself with hands upon knees.

“Don’t tell me you won.” He teased, your grin growing even wider as you took a dramatic, victorious bow, waving your hand graciously towards an invisible audience.

“Disappointment does not become you.” You taunted, to which Eddie rolled his eyes. He took back his pocket watch as if your hand burnt his, melodramatically acting up his dismay with groans and huffs, all the while you giggled at his silly display.

“Well, champion,” He leaned back into your space again, eyes alight with roguery, a wolfish grin on his lips, “what do you demand for your winnings?”

A wicked thought came to you, feeling your cheeks warm and your heart drum frantically, even as you tried to keep a cocky look upon your face. Eddie’s playful eyes were beginning to make you nervous, but you hoped your expression appeared just as spirited as his own, biting your lip to mask your nerves. You tapped your finger to your chin contemplatively, humming as if in deep consideration as you looked about the expanse of the lawns and gardens, anything to keep your eyes turned away from the dark of his gaze.

“I’m undecided.” You stated instead of your true answer, not quite courageous enough to share it. Abruptly, you began to jog down the hill’s slope which led to the lower lawns, full of that same nervous and excitable energy you always had as a child when Eddie was around. It felt a little foolish to act as if you were back to being little ones again, but you simply couldn’t help yourself, needing to let out all the giddy sensations that Eddie had stirred back up in you.

Eddie followed behind you with a call to slow down, catching up quickly and grabbing your arm; he spun you around to face him, his eccentric smile a perfect match for yours.

“We shouldn’t wander so far in the dark.” He insisted as he still held to your arm, looking back up in the direction of the mansion; from here, the hill obscured much of it from view, leaving only the upper floor visible to you.

“The dark holds no dangers to me.” You responded with a rascally tone, as if somehow you were untouchable. To reassure him, you added, “We will not go far.”

You took Eddie’s hand in your own as you continued your aimless trek - the lower lawns were home to less impressive gardens than those directly off the Talbot home, but as the explorer you were, they were always a delight to you. These were not gardens of flowers and exotic plants, but of fruits and vegetables, an orchard of trees with lovely offerings. Your personal favorites were the cherry trees, though they were not in season and, thus, they looked dull; but the apples, however, were truly thriving, growing so large and vibrant and aplenty, so you dragged your companion in that direction.

“Will you be helping with the gardens?” You asked, reaching out your free hand to graze the texture of leaves and apples and bark; the trees here had been growing so long that their branches were like a canopy above you.

“I will be doing anything asked of me - I’m lucky your father has even allowed me to return, given how much animosity he still seems to harbor for me.”

You furrowed your brows with disappointment; neither you nor your father brought Eddie up during supper, and so you had no idea what thoughts he now had about the young man, “You think he still harbors animosity?”

Eddie gave you a serious look, a sadness evident in his eyes even though you two wandered in near darkness; you were thankful for the moon, nearly full, for illuminating your way, “You weren’t there for the… odd conversations we had today; it seems he will never be trusting of me, nor will he ever come to like me.”

“Well, I like you, and that’s something he’ll simply have to live with.” Your tone was stubborn and defiantly and bratty, as if your own feelings could possibly sway those of your father; Eddie gave you a grateful look.

“Just don’t land me in trouble.” He said softly, knowing that even this simple act of walking together was something your father would frown upon, that it could be considered taboo for a woman of your status to be seen alone with a man like him.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, leaning in to him a little to rest your head atop his shoulder with an easy smile across your lips, “Fear not, I won’t cause any more trouble than I usually do.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at that, squeezing your hand back, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, “You are quite capable of stirring up trouble, dove, that answer is not particularly reassuring.”

“I suppose not.” You said with a giggle, delighting in the impromptu term of endearment - Eddie had certainly never called you ‘dove’ before in your youth, but oh, how you hoped he’d continue to say now.

You recalled all the crazy things the two of you had done as children, the headaches you had caused; Eddie had been a troublemaker as well, of course, having dragged you along on many risky adventures that you’d been scolded for later. But now, he seemed far more aware of his station, far more aware of the consequences that awaited adults who broke the rules that children could get away with.

Yes - you reminded yourself once more - you were both grown up now, and could not get away with play and stories the way that you used to. You could no longer be seen together without raising eyebrows, you could no longer laugh and run and joke without propriety being questioned. It was a dismal realization to know that any and all interactions with Eddie would now be scrutinized, by both peers and staff and your father alike. The thought made you sigh with woe, eyes drooping as you considered all the things the two of you could no longer do lest you face the judgments of those around you.

Decidedly, you stopped and turned to face Eddie, who gazed down at you with curiosity. You confidently met his gaze, even as your heart drummed nervously, setting your face into a look of strong resolve; knowing that things were different now, you had to enjoy every single moment together that you could, “The winner has decided the prize she’d like to claim.”

Eddie’s brow rose, a tickled smile befalling his lips at your unexpected announcement, “Has she?”

You nodded, feeling yourself growing cold with anxiety even as your cheeks warmed with bashfulness. Taking a steady breath, you gently placed your hands on the front of his shoulders, watching his eyes glance down before meeting yours with some trepidation; you paused there for a moment to bolster yourself, unwilling to back down, a nervy smile gracing your lips as your eyes softened.

“I want you to kiss me, Edward Munson.”

You felt his gasp rather than hear it, felt the way his shoulders tensed at the softly spoken request; his expression became skittish, his eyes jumpy as they looked about your face for a lie. You held your ground, not shrinking under his gaze or backing down, even as your resolve began to feel shaky, nerves growing in rapid succession.

Your name was a sweet whisper falling off his lips, the sound making you shiver as the moment weighed on you. You stared at him with longing, fearful that he’d reject you, that he’d succumb to the pressures of a society that wouldn’t want you two to be together. But to your surprise, Eddie delicately cupped your cheeks, even as his eyes seemed apologetic and doubtful, looking between yours as if waiting for you to stop him before you did something neither of you could take back.

“I shouldn’t…” He spoke oh-so softly; you shook your head gently in defiance.

“I don’t care.” Your answer was equally small, as if even you feared being caught, “I may not be able to have you amongst society, but when we’re alone, you’ve always been mine.”

Eddie’s eyes dropped to your lips, staring with such longing that you practically melted right then and then. As if he could tell the thoughts running through your mind, the corner of his mouth turned up in that charming grin of his, a huff of a laugh escaping him. And that seemed to be all the catalyst he needed, because in the next breath Eddie dipped his head down to capture your lips carefully with his.

His kiss was so tender and chaste, his fingertips curving a little tighter against your jaw. As a sigh left you, all your nerves seemed to melt away with it, your body relaxing against Eddie’s as your hands trailed up to clasp at the back of his neck. Your lips were timid, as if still held back by the disbelief that Eddie was back after all this time, disbelief that he was here with you and you got to kiss him exactly as you wanted to on the day he left.

Eddie pressed closer to you, deepening the kiss as his hands trailing down your neck, your arms, to your waist; the feel of his gentle touch caused your whole body to spark and shiver, your fingers curling into the hair at the base of his skull as an unladylike sound of satisfaction hummed in your throat. You could feel the curve of his smile against your lips, the way his hands squeezed your waist as if spurred on by your moan, and it only made you want him more.

Assertively and a little clumsily, you pushed against Eddie, practically tripping over your feet as you urged him to back up into the nearest tree truck, the bark scratchy against his shoulder blades though he was far too preoccupied to notice.

Your lips were demanding against his, body flush to him as your confidence mounted, Eddie’s arms warm as they encircled you as if fearful of letting go. Your hands became feverish, tugging at his hair, gripping at his neck, holding tight to his shoulders; you wanted to be everywhere at once, to somehow make up for all the time lost in the span of a single kiss.

Eddie’s tongue was wet against your lower lip, a pleasureful gasp escaping you as you opened your mouth to him, grateful for his arms around you as you began to feel weak in the knees. A primal sound rumbled deep in his chest, a growl that made you tingle all over, that made your hands tighten against him. With his arms holding you tight, Eddie leaned into you in a way that forced your back to arch, practically dipping you in his eagerness. Your chest felt as if it were going to burst open, your heart drumming out an excited tattoo, your limbs tingling with electricity.

But then suddenly a howl cried out from the distance, loud enough and frightening enough to make you gasp while abruptly breaking the kiss with Eddie. You whipped your head out towards the wilderness, Eddie’s nose pressed to your cheek as he attempted to catch his breath. The cry of the animal rang out again, sounding closer and more provoked; your eyes widened as you gazed out towards the north, which seemed to be the direction of the danger.

“It’s alright…” Eddie whispered airily, his breath hot against your skin. His hand reached up to gently cup your cheek again, turning your startled gaze back to him; his eyes were dark and lustful as they stared deeply into yours.

“No…” Your voice was also light with breathlessness, chest rising and falling against his, “That was a wolf.”

Eddie made a face as if confused by your concern; you were reminded in that moment that he’d been away for such a long time.

“I was told there were no more wolves around here.” You started, straightening up although you kept yourself securely pressed against Eddie’s warm body. You spoke a mere inch away from his lips, each word a hot breath against his skin, “They’d been hunted to extinction, supposedly; at least that’s what father told me.”

Eddie smiled, his lips brushing against yours, “And you always listen to what your father says?”

You rolled your eyes, still wondering if you’d hear the wolf’s call again; despite the nervous beating of your heart, you ever so delicately kissed Eddie again, “You know I don’t… but we haven’t seen wolves in years… it seemed they disappeared after you left.”

Eddie’s slight laugh vibrated against your chest, the feel of it helping to settle your nerves, “So, it was I who drew them away from Hawkins?”

You grinned fondly at him, slowly beginning to feel at ease as you pressed your fingers tenderly against his skin, “Now that sounds just like one of your stories.”

“Perhaps it is true,” Eddie started with an eager tone, pulling back from you so that he could grab your hand and begin to drag you through the rows of orchard trees, as if he had a destination in mind that you weren’t privy to. You giggled smally while trying not to trip over your feet, “Perhaps they’ve been on the hunt all this time, and I’m the thing they seek. They followed me across the country, stalking closely, but I’m no easy prey to catch, and I always evaded their grasp.”

Coming to the edge of the orchard, Eddie melodramatically threw his free arm in the air, as if presenting the expanse of the dark woods and the beautiful, bright moon to you, “And so they continue to follow, all the way back home - but the wolves will never catch me!”

The last statement was shouted out into the wilderness as if Eddie were daring the creatures to come to him, and as you joyously laughed, you once again saw the boy who explored nature with you, the boy so fond of telling stories to his adoring audience of one.

But then a wolf’s howl sounded back, and the perfect timing froze you, a chill creeping up your spine as your wide eyes looked between Eddie and the vast woodland nearby. Even Eddie - so fearless just moments ago - looked spooked as he stared into the darkness of the trees, gaze unblinking as if a predator may present itself any moment now. His grasp on your hand squeezed tight as he protectively pulled you closer into his side, a shaky breath escaping him as he waited for the creature to call out again.

“We should go back.” You leaned into his neck so he could hear your whisper, feeling the way he slowly nodded in response. That last cry had been even closer than before, and it made you both edgy. The likelihood of a wolf attack was slim, and for all you knew the sound of its howls were simply echoing to seem near, but neither of you was stupid enough to risk it.

So, you both cautiously backed up a few feet before Eddie spun you around, quickly escorting you back through the orchard, up the sloping hill, into the garden that lined the entire backside of Talbot Manor. You didn’t stop until you were safely at the edge of the hedge maze, and then further still Eddie dragged you into the cozy confines of its tall bushes. After twisted a few paces into the maze, Eddie finally stopped, looking down at you as if you were a porcelain doll he feared breaking.

In an effort to reassure you both that all was well, Eddie cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing lightly along the apples of your cheeks; you stared at each other for a long minute, relaxing now that you were seemingly away from danger. The shine of the moonlight in Eddie’s eyes made you smile contently, and as if he saw as much, he leaned in to capture your lips with his once more.

Eddie kissed you with such ardent tenderness that you feared your knees may buckle beneath you; you lightly hooked your hands on his elbows to keep steady. How could this be so easy, this spark between you two that reignited in no time at all? Was it simply nostalgia that drew you like a moth to a flame? You so desperately hoped it was more than that, that the two of you weren’t just getting caught up in the excitement of Eddie’s return.

You slowly pulled your lips from his, pressing your foreheads together as you buzzed from head to toe. The silence between you two was calm, like a kind of enchantment that you couldn’t help getting swept up in.

But as your breaths mingled, a nagging voice sounded in the back of your head, your conscience reminding you that you were an engaged woman running around with a simple mechanic. Your brow furrowed, wishing you could just send the thought away without a concern, but you knew to be better than that.

You pulled a little further from Eddie so that you could meet his eyes, your expression anxious and somber; it took him a few moments to notice, his own look going from lively to worried as he studied your face.

“What is it, dove?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circles on your cheeks again. You pressed your lips firmly together while swallowing, fighting off your nerves; you knew what needed to be done, even if you didn’t want to be the one to do it.

“Eddie…” You cupped his hands in yours before gently pulling them away, taking a tense step back that caused doubt to flash across his face. You shook your head at yourself with a sigh, “There is something I should’ve told you.”

Oh, how tempted you were to run deeper into the hedge maze, to hide instead of confront the truth and break Eddie’s heart in the process. Your tongue felt heavy now that you had to say those damned words, and as you kept your eyes locked on Eddie, you could see his trepidation, as if he already suspected what you were about to say.

So, you bit the bullet before your nerves could win out again, “I’m engaged.”

You could see the exact moment his eyes dulled and his heart became heavy, feeling instant regret beginning to stir in you. If only you hadn’t said it, if only you could simply whisk that statement away - anything to bring a smile back to his lovely face.

As Eddie’s gaze dropped from you, you took a step back towards him, although you had to keep yourself from gently grabbing him, knowing your comfort most certainly wasn’t wanted right now. Nonetheless, more words spilled out of you, as if that could make things better.

“If I had known you were coming back, I would’ve found a way to prevent this. God, Eddie, if I could’ve just predicted you’d return, I wouldn’t have let this happen.”

Eddie sighed deeply, his jaw flexing; you couldn’t tell what he was feeling, as the look on his face was one you’d never quite seen before. Was it anger or pain or sadness or confusion?

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, unable to look away now that you’ve hurt him.

Eddie bit his lip, keeping his eyes on the ground as if he were still processing this information, his head shaking slightly at all the thoughts that must have been going through his mind. Unexpectedly, he whispered back with hoarseness, “I’m sorry, too, dove.”

Your brow furrowed as Eddie met your eyes again, his gaze appearing black in the darkness, which made him nearly frightening. What did he have to apologize for, he wasn’t the one who hurt you, after all.

The corner of his mouth pulled up, although there wasn’t any amusement to the expression, “I shouldn’t have come tonight - I gave us both too much hope.”

“But you are not the one who kept a secret.” You replied apologetically, “You are not the one who demanded a kiss and then broke the other’s heart.”

Eddie stared at you for a long, tense beat, “You’re right. And yet, somehow, I feel as if I’ve landed you in trouble once again.”

Your lips parted, but you didn’t make a sound, looking between Eddie’s eyes as you still tried to figure out what was going on in his mind. A weak, distressed laugh left you, a sound of disappointment as you tried to center yourself.

“Were we simply getting caught up in all of this?” You vocalized the fear you’d held the entire night, the fear that maybe your guileless excitement might fade away and you two would be left with nothing but old memories. Eddie’s stare remained unreadable for what felt like an eternity, and you began to feel antsy beneath his dark eyes.

He took a cautious step towards you, your heart catching in your chest as you watched him carefully. Each step taken made you more nervous, and yet you stayed firmly planted where you stood. You felt static all throughout your body as you waited, a shaky breath passing your lips as Eddie came close and dipped his head down towards yours. For a moment, you thought perhaps he’d kiss you again in spite of it all, but instead his eyes locked with yours, gaze dark and heavy with a depth of emotion that you wished you could begin to understand.

“I hope that this is no folly.” Eddie whispered longingly before straightening up. He backed up from you, his expression growing tender as he drank you in, the confusing weight of all these feelings adding pressure on his mind; once he had put what he deemed a safe distance between you two, he smiled sadly, “Good night, Ms. Talbot.”

And just like that, he walked off, long legs carrying him so quickly that it was almost like a magic trick. You stared at the spot he once stood, sighing with sadness and longing; how you so hoped this wasn't the end of things for the two of you, as it felt they had only just begun.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Eddie had managed to keep his distance for three days following that night, busying himself with tasks and chores that would ensure he didn’t have to run into you. Assisting Wayne in the gardens, cleaning up the mess of a garage, running into town with one of the maids to purchase goods - anything was better than having to see you and that forlorn, longing look in your eyes.

Eddie was foolish to have assumed that coming back to Talbot Manor would be easy, that he’d be able to fall back into his old routines as if nothing had changed. He’d become so very swept up in you so damn fast that he hadn’t even considered a boyfriend or fiance or husband could be a factor that would keep you apart; why that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, he didn’t know. But he certainly should have known better than to cave to the excitement you both felt, and yet he had done so anyway.

It was easy enough to stay away from you, but what wasn’t so easy for Eddie was the temptation to watch you when you thought no one was looking. There’d been so many times over the course of these days when he’d spot you meandering the garden while he was out in the field or lazing about the porch while he was in the cottage cleaning up after a day of hard work. The first time it happened, Eddie assumed you saw him too, for how could you not notice him cleaning up scraps in the vegetable garden while you walked the orchard? But you always seemed to be lost in some reverie, and he would get lost in watching the beauty that was you.

After three days of managing this, Eddie thought he’d be okay, that he’d find enough distractions to help him abandon his childhood crush that he was foolish to hold on to in the first place. Doing so meant that he’d have no trouble with Sir Talbot, it meant that you could go into your future marriage without the burden of his feelings on your shoulders. Perhaps all would be well, and the two of you would carry on with your lives as if you’d never seen each other again to begin with.

On the eve of that third day, Eddie was lying in bed when a wolf’s howl caught his attention, the sound strangely enchanting to him. At first, he startled slightly, for the night had been silent up till that point; he waited patiently to see if perhaps the call had woken his uncle, if Wayne was perhaps stirring in the cottage’s single bedroom. But the older man was still snoring soundly, and so Eddie tried to roll over and sleep despite still feeling wide awake.

But the animal called out again, and it filled him with a sense of foreboding. Perhaps it was because he remembered your reaction to the wolf that first night, the confused fear that flashed across your eyes; you had said wolves were supposed to be extinct around here, after all. Eddie allowed his curiosity to win out his logic, rising from the cot and going towards the nearest window, wondering if perhaps he could somehow catch sight of the animal; he lingered and lingered there at the window, but as the minutes passed, nothing happened.

As Eddie turned his back, though, another howl rang out, this time sounding closer than any of the previous ones; it sent a chill up his spine, wide eyes looking out into the night and up at the bright full moon overhead. Why was it that wolves seemed drawn to the full moon, he found himself wondering as he, too, became briefly mesmerized by the beacon of light.

There was yet another cry from the creature - Eddie had grown far too curious why the wolf seemed so damned worked up tonight. Letting this get the better of him, he scooped up his trenchcoat, a lantern, and Wayne’s shotgun, slipping into a pair of shoes and carefully stepping out into the night. He paused on the front step, eyes carefully looking about just to make sure the wolf wasn’t possibly upon him; once he deemed it safe, Eddie began to walk out towards the gardens.

He wasn’t expecting to have any kind of confrontation with the animal, and yet he couldn’t help the compulsion to explore. As he swung a wide berth around Talbot Manor, Eddie glanced up at the windows, drawn to the lights still shining out of a couple of them - one being your room, although he tried to ignore that thought.

The wolf called to him again, Eddie’s eyes roaming across the expansive grounds with a furrowed brow; just like the first night, it seemed the animal was howling from the north, as if it were hiding deep in the woods out there. Why Eddie felt such an impulse to chase after the creature, he didn’t know - it was fruitless at best, and dangerous at worst. But he couldn’t resist this sudden fixation, couldn’t resist the pull of mystery.

So, Eddie wandered, mindful of his surroundings as he went, passing by the flower gardens and the vegetable gardens, down a walking path that led to the Talbot woodland; he paused at the edge of the trees, knowing that he’d be foolish to continue forward. He should turn around, he knew, go back to the safety of the cottage and ignore the lively cries of the wolf; the animal was almost certainly far enough away from the home not to pose any danger. But before going back, Eddie lingered at the edge of the wood, the darkness like a wide open mouth and the trees like sharp teeth.

Movement off to his left caused Eddie to start, inhaling sharply as his wide eyes looked about for a sign of something. He slowly turned in a careful circle, grip tightening on the shotgun in hand; he was comfortable enough with using it, having accompanied Wayne on hunts, but he didn’t want to shoot bullets out into the quiet night if he could avoid it.

A rustle in the underbrush, and Eddie looked back into the dark of the trees; for all he knew, it was just an innocent squirrel or even a deer, but that didn’t stop his heart from beating wildly in his chest. He took steady steps backwards towards the safety of the Talbot property, cautious of his surroundings, mindful of any peculiar sound. Leaves crunched under his feet, each crinkle spiking his nerves; if there were a wolf nearby, would it not have already shown itself, would it not have already lunged at him like the easy prey he’d made himself?

Eddie gasped, thinking he saw eyes somewhere in the shadows, bright and clear and far too level with his to be the height of a wolf. But just as quickly, that hint of light was gone, although the scare was enough to make his blood run cold. He froze for a few tense moments, swallowing as he waited to see if the supposed-eyes would reappear; his gut told him that there was something there within the woods, something that he shouldn’t turn his back on.

But when no strange sounds or sights made themselves known after a prolonged, strained minute, Eddie began to move again, taking long strides backwards. His eyes were unblinking as he continued to stare into the endless dark, hearing the anxious pumping of his blood flowing in the otherwise silence.

And then another cruel howl followed by a frightening snarl sounded from before him, causing Eddie to shout out in fear, tripping over his suddenly frantic feet and falling heavily onto the wet grass. He began to scramble backwards, wide-eyed stare searching the woods in a panic; he wasn’t certain why he felt it, but it seemed that the animal was mocking him, that it had waited for just the right moment to give him the scare of his life.

Pushing himself back to his feet with fraught stumbles, Eddie abandoned caution and ran up the hill as fast as humanly possible; he didn’t care if presenting his back would prompt the wolf to chase after him, he needed to put distance between him and the woods, between him and the dangerous animal. His arms pumped wildly, coattails flying behind him as the lantern swung heavily in his hand; he was almost certain he heard heavy footfall over his shoulder, but he didn’t dare look back.

Eddie practically crawled up the slope of the hill, pushing his legs even harder once he’d reached the upper gardens, daring to glance around as he ran madly past Talbot Manor. With the mansion looming tall and imposing, comforting in its own strange way, Eddie finally decided to shoot a frenzied look behind him - but when there was nothing there following him, he slowed so abruptly he nearly skidded to a fall, his expression bewildered.

Steadying himself, Eddie tried to catch his breath as his eyes darted around in every direction; there was no wolf, no monster, nothing except the creeping evening fog and the ever familiar gardens. Eddie made a strained sound of exhaustion and frustration, spinning in every direction just to make sure he was, in fact, safe and alone; a pathetic laugh escaped his throat as he threw his head back, feeling both relief and confusion in tandem.

He couldn’t have been imagining things, could he? There was most certainly something in the woods with gleaming eyes, there had to have been something chasing him simply to taunt him - he couldn’t possibly have been so confused that his mind made that up. His chest heaved, the air cold enough that he could see his breath, and suddenly Eddie felt another shiver of fear course through him.

“Eddie!” A voice sharply hissed, causing him to startled and look about himself; with the manor off to his side, Eddie saw you sticking your head out the window, your confusion clear under the light of the full moon.

Your eyes were alight with concern as you gazed down upon the frantic man, the night air gently blowing your hair about your face. Eddie’s face was drawn with fright, eyes wide and terror-struck - it was an expression you hadn’t seen on him since childhood, since that day when you two snuck into the abandoned chapel. You looked at your family’s sprawling property, eyes trailing from the gardens to the woodlands out towards the direction of Hawkins; you saw nothing of alarm, but Eddie’s energy certainly had you spooked.

You returned your worried gaze to his face, trying not to raise your voice too much to draw attention, “What’s going on? I heard you shout.”

Eddie shook his head, still breathing heavily through his mouth as he stared up at you, “There’s something in the woods.”

“The wolf?” You asked, having also heard the creature’s cruel howls; you shivered, worried that perhaps the animal was growing bold, that it was going to start lurking around your home.

“I don’t know if it’s a wolf.” Eddie answered gravely, making your blood run cold. Your distressed gaze once again roamed around, hyper aware of anything that may seem out of place; but there was nothing to be seen aside from an owl flying above the trees.

“Eddie…” Your eyes softened as you stared down at your friend, “… Come up.”

He appeared taken aback by the request, looking at the vines and the trellis and the ornate architecture of Talbot Manor; back in the day, he’d learned how to climb up the side of the structure with ease, using the accents and the lattices as grips to bring him all the way to your window. But, of course, that was when he was a spry young boy; for all he knew, he wouldn’t be able to make that same climb now that he was a man. He gave a shake of his head.

“Either you come up or I come down.” You said firmly; you’d known he’d been avoiding you for three days, and considering the strange circumstances of this evening, you couldn’t do with any more time apart from him.

Eddie considered your words, looking about himself once more before sighing heavily, carefully stashing his gun and lantern in the nearby bushes. You tried not to smile too eagerly as he carefully looked the wall up and down as if he were planning his climb. Once he started the trek up, you stepped back from your window to grab your robe, uselessly wrapping it around yourself before returning to the window and pushing things out of the way.

You could hear Eddie grunting with effort, and so you stuck your head back out for a moment, nearly surprised at how quickly he was making the climb; you grinned a little at the expression he gave you, a boyish vexed delight.

Eddie tugged himself up and into the room, huffing as he found his footing; you closed the window behind him, leaning your rear against the sill as you contently looked him up and down. Eddie turned to face you, the low light of the room accentuating the planes of his face; you crossed your arms as you carefully looked him over.

“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, eying the mud on shoes, the grass on his coat.

Eddie nodded, “More spooked than anything…”

You bit your lip nervously, pushing off the windowsill and taking careful steps towards him, “You said… you don’t know if it was a wolf?”

An unamused laugh escaped Eddie, who rolled his eyes at himself, “I know that that must sound crazy of me.”

You quickly shook your head, gently setting your hand on his arm, “No, you were scared, that doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

Eddie eyed your hand, the way your fingers carefully squeezed the fabric of his coat. He seemed to deflate a little, dropping his head, “It seemed too big… but if not a wolf, I haven’t a clue what it could be.”

You stepped even closer, placing your other hand on his arm as well, your brow furrowed attentively, “It couldn’t have been a bear, could it?”

Eddie shook his head again, eyes seeming a little glazed over as he recalled the last ten minutes, as he tried to find details in his memory that he may have missed the first time, “Didn’t sound like a bear. But maybe I’m just confused.”

He exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his shoulders thanks to the comfort of your presence; for the time being, any conflict between you two was forgotten.

Seeing how confused and tired Eddie seemed, you guided your hands up his arms and to his cheeks, your touch gentle and caring as you two stared at one another, “Maybe you are, but we both know you weren’t imagining things - I heard it, too.”

Eddie looked between your eyes in consideration, searching your expression as your thumbs began to rub comforting circles on his jaw. He leaned into the touch a little, breathing steadily in and out as more of his anxious energy began to melt away. Eddie’s eyes became hooded the longer he stared at you, and at the same moment you were both reminded of the fact that you hadn’t seen each other in days, that you hadn’t spoken since his first night back, that being alone together in your private room was a far more intimate thing than either of you should have allowed.

You dipped your head a little, voice quiet, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Eddie countered in a similarly small tone, dejection weighing on his shoulders. He was nervous to touch you despite that being the only thing he wanted, nervous to let his guard down again and continue this taboo that you two had begun.

“The engagement wasn’t something I ever wanted,” You continued to whisper, drawing yourself close enough to Eddie so that you were nearly chest-to-chest, “I would’ve happily become an old maid awaiting your return if I had thought it possible, but father wanted to make sure I was cared for should anything happen, and people began to talk about my age as if I was already too old, and--”

Eddie abruptly wrapped his arms around your middle, his lips crashing down on yours like waves upon a shore, a surprised little sound leaping out of you as you tensed up. But just as quickly, you melted into him, kissing Eddie back as if his taste was intoxicating, clinging to his warm body as if fearful of losing him again. His hands upon you were wild and desperate as they squeezed and pressed you close, his mouth hot and wicked as he kissed you as if you were a lifeline.

Your arms snaked around his neck as you kissed him back fervently, your heel lifting off the ground as you moaned into Eddie’s lips. His grip on your body was rousing, his hands feeling every inch of you that he could, memorizing you with his fingertips. It felt an impossible task to break away from him, but you did so abruptly, realizing for a moment that you forgot how to breathe due to the severity of the kiss.

Your noses brushed as you gasped for air, Eddie’s lips close enough that you could still feel them teasing against yours. His eyelashes tickled your skin, prompting you to pull back just far enough to meet his lustful gaze.

“I can’t stop myself around you,” He admitted breathlessly, chest heaving in time with yours, “I have to stay away lest we both end up in trouble.”

“I don’t want you to stay away,” You whispered against his lips, fingers affectionately playing with the hair at the base of his skull, “You were away from me long enough. I don’t care if we’re just being foolish, or if we’re hung up on the past; you’re back, Eddie, and I’m not going to let you go again.”

“Dove…” He muttered the nickname as if it were sacred, “When the time comes that this must come to an end, you better push me away.”

You shook your head smally, firmly grabbing his cheeks again as you stared into his dark eyes, “I’m too selfish for that.”

Eddie chased your lips, capturing them in another chaste kiss, “Then we’re both fools just asking for trouble.”

“So be it.” You kissed him back assertively, longingly, with all that pent-up desire you’d been holding onto for so many years. Eddie breathed desperately, tongue snaking its way into your mouth with an eager groan. You felt like you were on fire as you pressed up against him, relishing in the feel of his body reacting in time with yours, his hands groping feverishly, his hips flush against your own.

Blindly, Eddie tried to guide you in the direction of something, anything that he could prop your body against so he could lavish you; you smiled into the intense kiss as you two tripped over your own feet, your rear finally bumping into your vanity and making everything on top fall over or roll off. You broke the kiss briefly to giggle at it, Eddie’s eyes alight with amusement as he shushed you.

“Be careful.” You whispered with another small laugh, kissing him wistfully as he helped scoop you up so you could sit upon the vanity tabletop. Pressing himself between your legs, Eddie’s hands delighted in the feel of you, pushing your thin robe from your shoulders, fingertips grazing over your bare arms. You shuddered at his touch, back arching, which only urged Eddie to continue to explore you, hands ever so gently drawing an invisible line from your breasts down to your thighs.

He began to tug at the material of your nightdress, fighting with the fabric just so he could expose more of your skin; as your ankles, your calves, your knees became exposed to the air, another chill ran through you. Eddie’s hand ran down the length of your calf, fingers hot and the metal of his rings even hotter, each touch sending you into a frenzy. Pushing the skirt up over your knees, his fingers squeezed your thighs with greed, goosebumps breaking out across your sensitive skin.

Eddie pulled away from your lips to meet your gaze again, eyes hooded and dark as they burned into yours. You salaciously smiled at the lustful look on his face, wanting so desperately to drag his lips back to yours, barely able to contain the hunger you felt for him. His hands continued to squeeze your legs, and when he pressed his hips against yours, you whined at the feel of his erection at your hot center, the layers of clothing between you nearly offensive. The needy sound in your throat made Eddie throb between your legs, and impulsively you rolled your hips against him, watching his eyes practically cross with pleasure.

An eager, breathy laugh left your mouth, prompting Eddie to plant another firm kiss to your lips. You haphazardly shoved at his coat, so he pulled back and quickly dropped it to the floor behind him, hands going right back to your body as if he couldn’t stand being away from you. Instead of returning to your lips, Eddie trailed kisses along your neck, from under your jawline all the way down to your collarbone, inhaling your scent with an animal excitement. Your fingers twisted in his hair, head thrown back as you delighted in the feel of his hot mouth against your skin.

Eddie’s hands returned to your thighs, an annoyed grumble sounding in his throat as the fabric of your drawers kept him from enjoying the feel of your sweet skin. Again, you couldn’t help but laugh airily, delighting in his desperation to touch you, to which Eddie gave you a hungry glare. With a huff, he pushed your skirt out of the way, fingers trailing along to the upper trim of your drawers, assertively tugging them down your legs in one quick move.

A shock of electricity jumped through your nearly exposed body, panting as Eddie tossed the garment aside and returned to you, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you zealously. You impatiently felt along every inch of his body, relishing in the flex of his muscles beneath your hands, the way he tensed as you dipped your fingers into the hem of his trousers; his erection twitched against your thigh, making you feel hot all over as you moaned.

Eddie drew his face away from you, to which you chased after his lips as if you were starved; he smiled tenderly as he held you back for just a moment, meeting your amorous eyes and searching them. Without having to say the words, his look was a question, seeking the assurance that this is what you wanted; you bit your lip with a small nod, practically throwing yourself at Eddie in your wanton desire to touch and be touched.

As you planted sloppy kisses along his lips and jaw, Eddie fumbled with his pants, knuckles brushing your inner thigh which sent a tingling jolt up your spine. He grabbed your legs, fingers squeezing hungrily into your skin as he tugged you closer to the end of the vanity, causing more items to clatter off as you gasped at being pulled.

Eddie gave you a wicked grin before kissing you deeply, savoring the sensual taste of you. He maneuvered, hips snug between your legs as his cock grazed your inner thigh, so, so close to your entrance that it made you keen; he grabbed himself, knuckles brushing along your folds and sending another chill through you. You moaned into his mouth, lips more insistent against his as you steadied yourself with one hand propped behind you and the other securely holding Eddie’s shoulder.

He broke away from the kiss again so he could look you in the eyes, his gaze sultry and tantalizing as he positioned his tip to press up against you, drawing another lewd, impatient mewl from your mouth. As Eddie eased slowly into your heat, the noise that left your lips was utterly sinful, forcing him to cup a hand over your mouth, his commanding expression utterly provocative as you clenched around him. He held in a groan of his own, the sound rumbling low in his chest once he was hilt deep inside you, the size of him making your eyes roll back with ecstasy, your mouth hanging open in bliss.

Eddie stayed perfectly still for just a moment to compose himself, the sight and feel of you was so damn overwhelming that it made him feel like a virgin all over again. And, god, the way you looked back at him with your body wound tight like that was so erotic, he had to be careful not to wake the whole damn house.

Hand still gently pressed against your lips, Eddie began to roll his hips slowly, pulling nearly all the way out of you just so that he could sink sweetly right back in again and again and again. The desirous sounds of your rapture humming behind his hand was intoxicating, spurring him to move a little bit faster, to push a little bit deeper.

Your hand on his shoulder fisted the fabric of his nightshirt, your other desperately grabbing the corner of the vanity for purchase as you sank lower on his cock. His slow, deliberate thrusts made your eyes cross, your moans becoming more urgent with each push of his hips against yours. Eddie was utterly alluring to watch, lips parted as he moaned, sweat breaking out across his forehead as he tried to be oh-so careful of his thrusts.

Desperate to feel him deeper, you rolled your hips in time with his, causing you both to cry out as Eddie hit just the right spot. The change of angle made him tense abruptly, pulling his hand from your jaw so he could brace himself against the vanity; his eyes burned into you, as if challenging you to move like that again.

With a haughty look on your face, you did just that, rutting your hips experimentally against Eddie’s, toes curling at the pressure created on your clit. The sight of his brow knotting with pleasure bolstered you, urging you to move faster and deeper, pathetic sounds falling past your parted lips as you threw your head back.

Eddie’s hands grabbed desperately at your hips and thighs, fingers digging so harshly into your skin that it nearly hurt; he began to move his body greedily against yours, his cock somehow burying even deeper into you. He rested his forehead against your cheek, his hips jerking up into yours with more force as inconsolable whines sounded in your throat. He spread your legs wider, pushing your knees up higher, each shift and rut driving you wild as you already began to come undone.

Sweat was beginning to make your skin slick, your ass sliding down the vanity as Eddie’s thrusts became more urgent and feverish. Satisfied groans leapt out of him as he held your body steady, strong hands gripping tight to your hips as you arched up into him. As Eddie shifted one of your legs up even higher, you had to bite your own hand to refrain from shouting out with pleasure, his deep angle making your legs shake and clench around him.

The back of your head bumped the vanity mirror, and you realized then just how much noise the piece of furniture was making, the wood groaning under your weight, bumping against the wall. Were you of sound mind, you would have stopped Eddie, but you were too far gone, gasping and mewling with delight as his cock pumped in and out of your slick heat.

Eddie’s hand reached down between the two of you, fingers wickedly circling your clit as he continued to rut deep inside you, a string of satiated sobs passing between your lips. Your thighs clamped tightly around his hips, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your movements became jerky and desperate, the sensations sparking through your entire being impossible to contain.

You grasped wildly at Eddie’s back, nails digging into his skin, body quivering uncontrollably; he was unrelenting, dexterous fingers eagerly rubbing your clit, cock pumping quickly in and out of you. As your body began to feel like static electricity, his own thrusts became more frenzied, his grunts and moans in your ear growing more feral.

“E-Eddie, I--!” Your mouth moved of its own accord, your attempt at words unintelligible as his hips slapped against your ass, your entire body clamping around him as your climax rapidly overcame you. The fervid whimpering moans falling from your lips were utterly blasphemous, the sound of your satisfaction making it nearly impossible for Eddie to keep it together. His hands held tight to your waist and hips once more, your body shuddering as your orgasm rolled over you in wave after wave.

Eddie could feel the tension then leave your body, his grip becoming even more firm so that you didn’t simply melt off the vanity table. With hungry grunts he thrust up into you, his body unyielding as he used you to reach his completion; a ditzy, satisfied smile graced your lips as you felt his movements become more desperate, his hands becoming more greedy, ready to come undone at any moment.

Eddie hissed through clenched teeth as his hips slapped into you, your orgasm making you so wet for him that it was downright sinful. The rut of his cock inside you became manic with each thrust, his hands clinging so tightly to you that his knuckles were white; he was so goddamn close that he unconsciously whined, the sound making you sigh even as your eyes were still crossed.

Hastily, Eddie pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the lack of him, trying to keep your vision straight so you could drink him in. Eddie grasped his cock firmly in one hand, pumping into his fist as his head dropped back with a string of groans. He came abruptly, his seed spurting between his fingers and onto your exposed stomach, to which you gasped while still trying to come back down to earth. With his other hand, Eddie steadied himself, his weight causing the vanity to lurch a little as he continued to leak onto you, his chest heaving with labored breath.

For a long minute, you two were silent save for heavy gasps and inhales, Eddie’s eyes wound shut as he tried to recover from his orgasm; you watched his face with pining and zeal, savoring in the way his body seemed to shake from the intensity it went through. When finally he looked at you again, his gaze was hooded and dark with yearning, drinking you in carnally; your eyes locked, and briefly you were hypnotized.

Eddie reached out for you tenderly, whispering your name as he brushed his thumb along your lip, his fingers down your neck. You sighed deeply at the tenderness of his touch, eyes fluttering shut. You hummed in contentment, taking a few deep breaths before you met Eddie’s gaze again.

His smile made your heart flutter, the way he studied you made your toes curl; when finally he looked away, it was to scoop up the abandoned pair of drawers that you had long forgotten about. His gaze was amorous as he cleaned up his mess, causing you to giggle a little as if finally the thrill of the evening was setting in, as if you were finally able to wrap your head around what had just transpired between you two.

Eddie helped you sit back up, pulling you into a swift, needy kiss that nearly took your breath away. You pressed your foreheads together, breathing in the scent of each other’s sex, hesitant to speak words for fear that they may somehow shatter the moment. You gently cupped Eddie’s jaw, his own hands bracing against the vanity once again; another giggle hummed in your throat, and you felt the twitch of Eddie’s mustache as he smiled in response.

“It’s a miracle this poor vanity didn’t break.” You whispered hoarsely, your words causing Eddie to laugh as well.

“It certainly did us no favors.” He answered just as quietly. A tranquil beat of silence passed between you two.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Your doleful statement was the burdensome reminder of reality - Eddie couldn’t be found here, and you had to go on pretending as if nothing happened. You felt him sigh deeply, breath tickling across your cheeks.

“If only things were that simple, dove.”

“Stay a while longer, at least.” You pleaded, pulling back to meet his eyes, “The night is still young.”

You, of course, had no idea what time it was, although you were certain if you were to look at a clock the hour would take you aback. Eddie shook his head with amusement, as if he’d just thought the same thing, his hands trailing to rest against your hips, where his thumbs rubbed small, comfortable circles into the fabric of your nightgown.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He answered sweetly.

“Promise?”

Eddie gave you a gentle, doting kiss, “Promise.”

[PART ONE] | [MASTERLIST]

taglist | @3rd-conchord @ali-r3n @chaoticgood-munson @chaptersleftunwritten @daisy-munson

@duncanhillscoffeecups @eddiernunson @evilunicorns4minions @ilovetaquitosmmmm @jasminelafleur

@lavendermunson @letstevengrantsleep @littlexdeaths @marlena-marlena @mmmunson

@skrzydlak @tenthmoon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson #stranger things #em

144 notes · View notes

siddyyyyyyyy · 3 months ago

Text

You're Only Sixteen

wc: 3.7 K

summary: child soldier joins taskforce 141 part FIVE; one, two, three, four ; six

warnings: discussion of child soldiers, discussion of character death

a/n: I have nothing to say, enjoy

Training hall, 7:32, one day before the mission

»C‘mon, focus.«

Ghost taunts you as he is sparring with you, having been at it for probably a few minutes after going out for a morning run. After that glorious nightmare that was indeed a flashback, you have been more focused than anything today. But Ghost doesn‘t care, he really wants to push your limits today and see how much more you can actually endure. And he is really sure you can handle more than you‘re letting on. He saw you take out a man twice your size with a simple fire extinguisher.

Obviously, his words do little to provoke you, but his punches sure do. The sheer amount of sass this man has during sparring sessions is always something you admire about him. With another hard hit against your side, you feel your adrenaline rise before your attacks start to become stronger, finally making him sweat. You‘re not sure why you‘re holding back on him, since back at your camp, you always made sure to be stronger and even meaner in fights, but you also know your camp was abusive, in some way or another. Ghost is quick too, however, and counters your attacks back, putting more force in his hits too.

Finally, the match is more rough between you two, making Ghost struggle to keep up with your movements. It is not clear who is winning the round before you kick his side quickly with more force, making him gasp and launch at you. Before he could actually attack you, you duck and aim for his abdominal area, finally making him stumble. But you don‘t stop there, encouraging him to fall. He does, eventually but not without letting out a curse so bad that you thought he was actually mad at you.

But no, he is far from mad at you. Actually feeling some kind of pride that you actually beat him. Even Soap has a hard time winning against Ghost, but he is also used to the competitive fights between him and Gaz. You help him stand back on his feet, and he gives you detailed critique. Well, he is mostly complaining about the way you‘ve been holding back until now.

»Seriously, you need to stop pretending I‘m fragile. I can take your hits. And I‘ve seen you take down men before. You can do better than that; just don‘t think too much.«

You give him a brief nod back, feeling somewhat lighter. Maybe today‘s morning training is making you finally take your mind off the things that are currently plaguing your mind.

You both start another round of training, having the freedom of taking out of frustration on Ghost, beating him a second time. You believe he is just going easy on you, but the way he pants while he gets up from the mat says otherwise.

Eventually, after some more rounds, in which you both win equal amounts of time, Ghost thinks you‘re ready for the mission, and it‘s time to go to the last official meeting before preparing for the deployment.

Arriving there, you see Laswell and Price already standing by the table, noticing you two enter as well. It seemed like they were talking about something, the room falling silent briefly.

»Still in for the task?«

Price questions you, his tone neutral but his expression having a serious hint in it. You give him a short nod, answering as the day before. Meanwhile, the rest of the team enters the briefing room and settles on standing around the table as usual. Laswell doesn‘t waste any time on getting to the point, starting the small PowerPoint and explaining the steps of the mission even clearer than last time.

The plan changed up slightly, changing up the positions mostly.

»You‘re still paired with Farah. But you will be taking care of the guards outside and keeping watch on the building. After that‘s done, you‘ll be joining the rest inside the building. Since you have the most knowledge about the camp, it will be your responsibility to lead the safest way into the director‘s room.«

The small changeup seems to be quite simple, understanding the task. Instead of ensuring the safety of the children, you will now help them get the so-called bad guys. Or your past superiors and boss. But it‘s better than having to escort your past rival, having dreaded the thought of possibly seeing him again. Laswell looks away from you, focussing her eyes on the slide of the PowerPoint that‘s projected on the whiteboard, continuing with the mission plan.

»Farah has enough men to safely escort the children away, leaving us a clear view of the task at hand.«

She glances back at you, her expression still as dead-serious as the day before.

»Your call sign from now on is ‘Bane‘.«

Soap grins lightly at the call sign, looking your way. Gaz does the same, glancing to you briefly. He only gives you a solid nod, but Soap even gives you a thumbs up. It‘s clear they both seem to want to hype you up in a subtle manner. Ghost, however, only gets the simple message behind the call sign; seeing the first mission together had left a big impression.

The briefing goes on, with Laswell mostly leading the meeting as the rest listens, only sometimes interjecting or asking questions. You stay quiet though, just letting the whole plan go over in your head several times and also getting used to your call sign.

Maybe you worry too much because you feel the muscles around your arms start to hurt lightly. It‘s not a sharp pain but more of a dull, throbbing pain around your forearms that makes you feel uncomfortable overall. No matter what, though, you stay still and calm during the briefing until you can finally leave for lunch and have a small break. The muscle ache subsides slowly as you make your way to the mess hall with Gaz and Soap, getting your food trays, and sitting down at your usual table. Finally, the ache seems to fully go away, letting you eat in peace. Of course that familiar ache was a thing even before joining this team. Due to being exposed to high stress situations at a young age, it must be your body‘s way of showing you stress since you mainly go through the stress and do anything to complete a mission.

Ghost passes by your table and sets the capri sun down on it, leaning his hands on the table as he looks at the rest.

»She beat me four times at sparring today.«

No one would have expected it, but Soap was the first one to process his words and drop his fork into his plate.

»You broke my record!«

He looks to you with a betrayed look, crossing his arms in a pouty way as he stares at you with his mouth wide open.

»Soap‘s havin‘ beef with a teenager now.« Gaz mumbles amused while he watches his teammate‘s reaction, only hurting his ego even more.

»I‘m not!« Soap glares at his teammate before looking back towards you, »In a matter of a few days, righ‘?«

You don‘t get what he is asking for a moment before you glance at Ghost, unsure of what to say. You beat Ghost four times today. Not four times in a year.

The lack of response makes Soap groan and hit his head on the table in a dramatic way. He could‘ve answered his own question, considering you are there for almost two weeks by now, and you have only been training with Ghost for today.

Ghost feels visibly smug and wanders off to his office, probably eating alone once again. The table isn‘t silent for too long as Gaz continues to tease him for getting his record broken by you, munching on the food while discussing this childish topic. In Soap‘s mentality, there is no such thing as ‚childish‘, because as long as it makes you happy or gives you a purpose in life, it doesn‘t matter if people find it funny or not.

Eventually, you finish your meal with the rest, starting on the capri sun now, as you walk out of the mess hall. Soap excuses himself to join Ghost in his office and bicker about his broken record, leaving you alone with Gaz, or ‚Kyle‘, for you, as he tells you to call him now. He suggests a walk around the park again, easily agreeing to such a request.

You start walking beside each other, the conversation starting off with him asking you something out of concern.

»Nervous for the mission? It‘s a pretty big one.«

»It should be fine. I‘m used to high-pressure operations.«

Kyle can‘t help but feel his heart break every time you say something mature like that. A literal teenager shouldn‘t be feeling like this. Getting a big responsibility thrown in their way, having to act tough and not be allowed to feel fear or back down, constantly needing to keep up your fitness and strength… it‘s too much, and he really wonders if you are actually so strong and capable, or if you are good at pretending.

Maybe he is worrying too much, but he knows he was busy trying to beat his friends at ‚Need for Speed‘ and ‚Mortal Kombat‘ in high school instead of worrying about things like you are right now.

»Are you though? It must be a lot, raiding your old camp and arresting your old superiors. There‘s a lot to process.«

He didn‘t mean to pressure you even more or get you into some sort of stressful situation, but you started to get defensive.

»I am used to this. There is nothing new about this, and...« You pause, trying to figure out how to say this and also not cringe at yourself, »I have a team now.«

Kyle raises his eyebrow lightly at that, not able to hide his light surprise. He doesn‘t know the system you had back there, really only Ghost being the lucky – or rather unlucky one – to know about the unusal system. And you are sure that Kyle would be even more devastated if he heard about those. A brief moment of silence goes by before he speaks up again.

»You trust us a lot, don‘t you?« His voice becoming more solemn. You give him a brief nod back, not daring to look into his eyes. He sees it as the best positive response he‘ll ever receive from you and just walks beside you quietly.

The conversation turns into something more light afterwards, getting to joke around a little bit with him as he mostly explains you what vines are and tells you some of the more popular memes, which you find rather absurd but funny.

The rest of the day went by relaxed. Or as relaxed as possible, since you still sometimes got a muscle ache and there wasn‘t any official training or meeting until the flight, leaving you some time to fully set into the new mission and get ready.

You keep checking for the small Polaroid in your bag; paranoid that it will vanish into thin air, but it doesn‘t.

Flight, 4:00

The flight came by quicker than you wanted it to be. Even though you want to get your revenge on every single one who wronged you, you can‘t help but feel wrought up about it.

But you don‘t have time to think about it now as you‘re getting into the helicopter with the others, being too tired to give a fuck about any of your worries anyway. Once you got all the essentials into the vehicle, you took a seat and put the headset on. Nikolai‘s chirp voice comes through, greeting everyone again.

»Ah, good mornin‘ guys! Ready to kick some ass?«

Kyle snorts beside you as he hears the motivated voice from the pilot, shaking his head lightly.

»Always. Drive already.«

Price responds as he makes it comfortable on the seat in front of you, looking towards the cockpit where Nikolai is just doing some final check-ups.

»It‘s flying, Captain. Flying.« Nik quips back, a little disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm from the team, eventually starting to fly to Urzikstan. You wonder how the pilot can be so cheerful most of the time, it being literally four in the morning, and you are about to fly for approximately eight hours. He must intake some serious drugs before every flight, because you‘ve never seen such a happy Russian man before.

Speaking of the devil, he calls you over to the cockpit, and you wonder what he might possibly want from you now. You step into the cockpit, standing behind him as he flies, glancing to you. He motions for you to take your headset off, wanting to speak privately.

»I didn‘t tell anyone, but I built a sound box in here. You listen to music? You can choose here, just play whatever you like.«

Meanwhile, the rest of the team discusses something among themselves, not paying much attention to your conversation with Nik.

And, of course, you know a thing or two about music. Well, you do have a favourite band since the camp played most of their music in the gym.

You look towards the device he shoves into your hands, having a bit of trouble understanding the mechanics of it, but you figure it out quite quickly. The first tones go off in the helicopter, making you flinch lightly. Nikolai nods along to the music for a moment, smiling satisfied and glad you didn‘t put on Taylor Swift.

»Nik?« You quickly give the device back to the man as you hear Price approach you both, playing as neutrally as possible. But the pilot doesn‘t even spare so much of a glance to the captain, seemingly too focused on controlling the helicopter.

»Why is Papa Roach playing at full volume?«

Price questions, looking to Nik and then to you. His expression seems more confused than annoyed, not having expected some music on the flight. But he seems to piece it together fairly quickly with how quiet you are and that you happen to just stand innocently by him.

»Bloody hell...« He sighs out softly and leaves you two be, returning back to the rest.

The rest of the flight consists of you talking to Nikolai, him mostly rambling about the helicopter you are both in and talking about some more mechanics and other planes and jets he once got to fly with. At the same time, the music plays in the background, realising mid-fly that he also installed some serious bass subwoofers within the sound boxes. The playlist seems to change, as you hear some unfamiliar songs that seem to be the stuff he usually enjoys. You ask him about it, feeling like he is the most easy and fun to talk to by far. Beside Kyle.

»Oh, that‘s my favourite band, Slaughter To Previal! I‘ve seen them live last summer in Moscow… Their show was something else. Do you like them so far?«

You take a small moment to answer, actually finding it rather strange and also a little too much. But you certainly respect his passion for this specific band. It seems like they are singing in Russian too.

»It‘s definitely energetic. And loud.«

Nik barks a laugh at your answer, understanding it might be something new and strange for you, considering you mostly know something about the nu-metal band ‚Papa Roach‘.

The last four hours of the flight go by with some occasional naps against Soap‘s shoulder and listening to the conversations the others have.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you are back in Urzikstan. The very same country you spent most of your life in. Where you wished to never return.

But this is about getting a mission done. The most important mission you‘ve ever had, probably.

Nik lands in a big landing field near a smaller base, the surroundings being familiar to you. The scenery is mostly bland, the sun being out by now, and the base being located in the middle of a desert. As you walk out, the hot sun surprises you, making your shield you eyes with your hand from it.

There are already some extra people that help with the baggage and all the equipment you brought for the mission. You stand by the others, making sure not to get lost, and stay by Kyle‘s side, seeing him stretch his back from the long flight.

Two people approach your small group, seemingly apart of the operation and base, the same people who will help with your task just tomorrow.

»Good morning, old man. I heard you have a new addition?«

Farah greets Price, making you finally look to her and to the man beside her. Kyle goes in for a hug with the man who introduces himself as Alex Keller to you, seeming like a decent dude.

Price goes to introduce you to them but gets cut off by Farah.

»No, I know her. How‘s your arm?«

Even you are surprised by her directness, and the team seems to be even more surprised. Gaz is the first one to actually speak up about the initial surprise, gesturing between the two of you.

»You… know ‘er?«

The air seems to tense for a moment before Farah nods and explains finally, seeing that you are still not a talkative one.

»We met three years ago, during a raid. I‘m glad she‘s with you now.«

After that brief explanation, it seems like some were still confused at the absurdity of you both knowing each other, but no one will press any further for now.

With some more words between the team and Farah, you walk into their base and get back to discussing the mission. Everyone seems to know their task pretty well, but there are still speculations about the operation and camp. What is actually their motive behind it? Why do they even need child soldiers?

»From the information we received from the warehouse, we could only determine where the building is and who it belongs to. We also got a list with all the children inside; they have full files of each of them.«

Price explains as Farah listens, the second in command, Alex standing beside her.

»Bane has most of the intel from all of us, which is why I think she is essential for the mission.«

Farah‘s eyes are mostly on you, studying the way you stick by Ghost‘s side during the brief and seem to be focused on the task as well. You‘ve clearly grown quite a bit during those three years of not seeing each other, but she can still see the scared and rageful thirteen-year-old she once almost took out.

»And this is why she will stick with us after clearing the guards outside. Farah, you still have enough men to escort the children, right?«

Finally, she tears her eyes away from you and nods, getting back to fully focus on the briefing again. The air is serious but not tense. Again, something you are not used to at briefings, even after having been in several one‘s with your team.

Once some more information and planning has been done, checking afterwards if everything is working right, it gets back to preparing more. But before you could join your team in preparing your equipment, Farah gets ahead of you and speaks up. She stands by your side, leading you more towards the exit to speak more privately.

»Seriously, how‘s your arm? I stabbed it really back then.«

She questions with more concern in her features this time, looking at you while walking outside and abandoning the rest.

»It‘s fine, you don‘t need to worry about it. Just got a bit of a scar.«

You dismiss quickly, feeling really glad you are wearing long sleeves today, even though you knew it‘s pretty warm in this country.

»Well… I‘m glad you got into better hands. Your decision?«

She asks again, this time being more light, but not without a hint of seriousness and genuine curiousness.

»Got sent to them because I was starting to lack.«

»Why were you getting worse?«

You really dreaded that question, and there is no way you will be able to answer that without at least your voice breaking. The conversation pauses for a moment before Farah sighs out, realisation setting in.

»I‘m sorry for your loss… When did it happen?« Of course she would realise it that quick. After all, she tried to interrogate you after stabbing you before finding out you are actually still a child.

»Two years ago. Raid mission; I was first in command, but she insisted on entering first.«

You bit your inner cheek, focused on staying calm and not letting any emotions escape as you talk to her. Even when you have only met her two times, she grew on you quite a lot. She is definitely the reason why you kept going as well.

»It‘s like she knew… she - it should‘ve been me.«

Against your will, your voice breaks and apart of Farah breaks too, as you try to explain what really happened. She stops walking and embraces you into a hug, her arms wrapping gently around you with a strong intent to comfort you.

»Don‘t say that. Halime wouldn‘t want you to beat yourself over it. It‘s not your fault.«

She tells you gently as she rubs your back lightly, feeling how tense your shoulders are. Farah always saw a part of herself in you. She was, too, being thrown into a difficult situation as a young child and was forced to continue. However, she also had a brother to care about and also had some sort of company that way. Now, you are the one who has nothing left but your team and this life, in which you are still fighting to survive.

»You need the will to continue, and you have it. But most importantly, we are here for you, and we will make sure to help you through each step. Understood?«

Her voice became a little lighter at the end as she pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

You were caught off guard by her hug and comforting words, but you had an even stronger will and motivation to go on the mission with the rest and get it done nicely. Now it‘s time to gear up and make your way to the old camp that once made your life a living hell.

a/n: I actually love Slaughter to Previal, I've seen them live in January and my life changed. Had to really strain myself from not writing from my perspective as Nik was speaking lol. Some proof, lmao:

Hope you enjoyed it!

194 notes · View notes

as-is-above-so-below · 1 year ago

Text

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Hey, Jealousy

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”

Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”

Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”

“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”

A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.

“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”

“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”

“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”

“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”

THEN

It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.

As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.

He could be merciful when he wanted to be.

The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.

“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”

“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”

“I was just - doing - my job-”

Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides.

“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”

Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”

“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”

“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”

“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”

“You’d better be.”

NOW

The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.

“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”

“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.”

“We said we’re sorry!”

“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”

“I’m going to kill you–”

John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”

“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”

“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”

Johnny raised his hand.�� “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–

“Johnny.”

“Sir?”

Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”

“Aye.”

“Still in effect.”

Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.

Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.

When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –

There.

Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.

All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.

Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.

He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”

She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.

Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”

“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.

“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”

Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”

“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.

With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.

According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.

She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–

The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”

“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”

“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”

She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.

Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.

I should put in for a day or two off.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.

“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”

Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.

“Soap-“

“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”

Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…

Anyone would lose their patience.

Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing.

As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”

Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”

All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.

“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”

Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?

Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.

“How much of me can you take?”

“All of it.”

“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”

She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”

His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.

Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.

Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”

She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.

Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67

941 notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 7 months ago

Text

౨ৎ꣑ৎHold Up౨ৎ꣑ৎ (Pray You Catch Me Part Two)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, self harm (non-suicidal), manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 2) author’s note: thanks for the love on chapter one <3 excited about this one. Series Pinterest Board Series Spotify Playlist

When Coriolanus had started to court you, he’d exhibited certain behaviors you’d taken note of. Some of them were regular things, but one stood out above all others.

He was possessive. One of his hands was always on your waist, or your thigh, wherever he could reach, wherever was appropriate for the setting. Whenever you were speaking with anyone at the events the two of you attended, especially if it was a man, he kept close watch. His gaze was sharp, piercing, and anyone could feel it on them even if they weren’t looking in his direction.

Every touch, every hint of protectiveness swam through your head as you laid next to him, back against his chest as he held you like a doll.

Sleep was not your friend that night.

Your mind was fully focused on the hand he’d put over you, how it had slid under your nightdress, resting on the skin of your hip, and your emotions ran wild, swirling around until sunrise when you finally landed on one. Anger.

The audacity he had to make plans to meet another woman for something so glaringly carnal and then come back to you, his obedient little wife, like nothing had happened. Your hand gripped the pillow under your head, feeling like you could tear it in half. The black nightdress you’d picked up felt like sandpaper on your skin.

Sitting up slightly, you looked over at him. The most powerful man in Panem, fast asleep, so vulnerable, so…human. His blond hair was a little messy, his breathing soft. Even now, he was annoyingly perfect.

Suddenly, as your mind wandered, it struck you that you had no idea how long he’d been seeing her. You knew it’d been at least once because he’d mentioned last time. This could have been years in the making, and you were just too naive, too stupid to see it. Hell, it could’ve started long before he’d begun courting you, and you’d been none the wiser. You hardly knew anything of his past, except what his being in the public eye afforded you.

The hand on your hip was heavy, like a weight, and you glared down at it. In the past, you would’ve allowed it, not wanting to wake him. Maybe you’d have even enjoyed the feeling.

But this was not the past.

In one motion, you shoved his hand off you, tugging your nightdress down and moving as far away from him as you could on the bed. You pulled the pillow out from under your head and put it firmly between the two of you, your back to him. It was a small act of rebellion, but it was all you had right now.

When morning came and the sunlight spilled through the windows between the wine red curtains, he’d awaken and wonder why he wasn’t holding you anymore. But he wouldn’t think much of it, likely figuring you’d shifted around in the night. He’d be confused, but it wouldn’t affect more than a few minutes of his waking mind.

It was all you had right now.

Several hours later, Coriolanus was gone for the day, and you tried to occupy yourself. It was not an easy task. It felt pathetic waiting around for him to get home, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Wandering into the closet you shared, you ventured over to his side, running your hands over his shirts and jackets, inhaling his scent. You’d never explored his things before, keeping to your dresses and heels. He’d never outright told you not to do this, but you assumed he didn’t necessarily want you to.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. It was the least you could do after what he knew hurt you.

You took a shirt off its hanger, pressing the fabric to your nose. Men’s cologne, roses. That was him. When you put it back on the hanger, you made sure it was a little less neat than before.

Now you were at his jackets, and you took a red one off the hanger, noting the pants it matched on a shelf, crisply folded. Going over to the floor length mirror, you pulled it on, smoothing it over your body. You were still wearing the black nightdress from the night before.

Wearing his clothes felt strange, but you liked it. It was…powerful. You put your hands in the pockets, turning to look at yourself from a new angle, when you felt a loose scrap of fabric. Lace.

Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread taking over as you hastily pulled it out. A stark black pair of panties, ones that did not belong to you.

Mind racing, you thought back to the last time he’d worn this jacket. A month ago, a fundraiser you’d attended. You remembered that night because he’d been unusually affectionate, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you’d leave to talk to a friend, his arm around your waist holding you close when he was speaking with a senator you couldn’t remember the name of. You’d felt…well, not loved, but cared for. Like maybe, just maybe this could be more.

But evidently he’d gone straight to her afterwards.

The staff of the mansion was discreet, and they wouldn’t dare ask questions if they found a pair of panties in his pocket. They’d have likely just put them right back where they found them after the jacket had been cleaned.

As all this hit you, your face crumpled, and you knelt on the floor of the closet, still holding the panties, and cried softly. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. You didn’t know why you were surprised he was stepping out on you, but it was the fact that he’d made you think he cared about you, and allowed yourself to care back.

You were just another pawn in his game.

Men like Coriolanus wanted to be adored, without risking their own necks. Let everyone else feel, be vulnerable, devote themselves. On some level you had known that before, but now…now it was glaringly obvious.

As was what you had to do.

You wiped your tears and took off the jacket, hanging it up right where he’d see it when he walked in. The panties were still bunched in your fist as you stalked out of the closet, heading for the bathroom. A plan was hatching in your mind, and you gritted your teeth, your expression dark.

Tossing the panties on the counter, you pulled out your curling iron and plugged it in. As you waited for it to heat up, you got out a washcloth, twisting it in your hands. It was your wedding anniversary today, so you knew for sure he’d be home tonight. That’s why he can’t meet her tonight-

Shut up, you told yourself, fanning a hand over the curling iron, making sure it was hot. You picked it up, inhaling softly. There was a moment of hesitation. Was it worth it?

Then you thought of the way your heart had fluttered when he pressed his lips to your temple, the way you’d smiled sweetly at him when he told you that you looked beautiful on his arm…

You shoved the washcloth into your mouth and brought the curling iron to your neck, pressing it down hard.

Perfection is attainable, you thought as you sat at the dining table, across from your usual spot. His place was set at the head, and you were often situated to his left. But tonight you’d requested you sit to the right, a subtle change that’d unconsciously put him on edge.

You looked ravishing, in a dress with a deep neckline, thin straps, and hardly any back. Deep red. His signature color. One you hadn’t dared to wear before. There was a rose between your fingers, and you were twisting it, eyes on the entrance to the dining room.

At last, he appeared, as handsome as ever, his face serene. There was little reaction to the sight of you, but it was there, and you relished in it.

“Dove,” he greeted, coming closer. You made no move to stand and welcome him as you usually did, instead looking up at him innocently, the end of the short stem of the rose in your mouth.

He sat in his chair, eyes on you. “Your dress…”

“Oh?” You looked down at yourself as if it were nothing. “I found it in the back of the closet. I know you usually like me in black…” you let that statement hang in the air for a moment. “...but it’s a special occasion.”

Coriolanus watched you, something you couldn’t pinpoint in his eyes. “I was only going to say you look lovely.”

You merely smiled at the compliment, setting the rose down in front of you, your hand beside it. He picked it up, his elbow on the table, kissing your fingers. “Happy anniversary, dove.”

Hating the little flutter your heart gave, you kept your eyes on him, a little smile on your face as you brushed your hair behind your shoulder with your free hand.

Immediately his eyes caught it, his expression growing cold.

The dark burn mark on your neck, bruising and almost looking like…

You looked innocently at him, taking note of the change in his face. “Dearest…?”

His grip on your hand was tighter. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

Frowning, you kept your expression light, pretending not to know. “I don’t-”

“Your neck,” he hissed. “What the hell is that?”

You didn’t respond, only looked at him, your eyes blank like you had a secret. His silence was furious, and yet internally you were having a laugh. Cheaters are always paranoid that their partners are cheating. This was something you'd known when you burned your neck earlier, and the seed you’d planted was in full bloom. “Curling iron accident.”

You’d made sure to only slightly curl the ends of your long hair, enough that what you said was plausible, but not entirely believable. His thoughts were almost visible on his face. “You expect me to believe you burned yourself?”

“You can ask Lisa,” you said, referring to one of the maids. “I rang for her to bring me ointment.” This was true, you’d called her in tears, showing her the mark. She’d applied enough medicine to stop the pain, but nothing except time would make the mark completely go away.

But you knew how his mind worked. He knew maids could be bribed, and pain could be fabricated. And you’d orchestrated it so it’d be frustrating for him to get to the bottom of this, because he already was at the bottom. His paranoia was almost too easy to manipulate.

“If I find out you’ve been with another man…” Coriolanus’ voice was quiet, the tone change making his words lethal.

You leaned forward, pulling your hand from his grasp. “And what if I am?”

His cold expression betrayed some surprise as you stood up, looking like a goddess with your hair spilling over your shoulders. In his usual color preference, you looked powerful, dangerously beautiful. “It’s hard to tell, Coriolanus. You work long hours. Spend a lot of time away. Maybe…just maybe, I could’ve gotten lonely. Maybe I could’ve needed someone to keep your side of the bed warm…”

In an instant, he stood, pinning your hands to the table and leaning over you, his hot breath in your face. You kept your expression calm, looking into his eyes boldly. He glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare-”

“You’re right,” you cut him off. “I wouldn’t. That mark on my neck is just a burn...” He must’ve thought you were a good actress, but not good enough that he couldn’t see through you. It was almost funny how easy he could be convinced. It’d hardly taken any effort at all.

You wrenched one of your hands out of his grasp, taking his hand and sliding it up so his fingers were hooked on the slit of your dress, dragging it up and over toward your belly so the panties you were wearing were on full display. Black, lacy ones.

His eyes widened as he recognized them, and you stared at him, expression hard. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes rose slowly to meet yours. You said nothing, shoving his hand away, your dress falling back over your legs. “...care to tell me what these are?”

Coriolanus’ blue eyes pierced yours, and you didn’t let yourself be intimidated by him. He was the president of Panem…but he was still just a man.

“You know,” he said simply, eyes searching yours.

You only stared at him.

He exhaled, biting his tongue and looking away for a moment. “How long have you known?”

“I don’t see why that matters,” you said, folding your arms across your chest, your chin held high.

His expression was firm, but he nodded curtly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

Silence.

Coriolanus kept his eyes on you. “I never meant to hurt you, dove-”

“Don’t call me that,” you said softly, sharply.

He exhaled through his nose, a sure sign he was angry. “You had to know this would happen at some point. This was an arranged marriage for-”

You interrupted him again. “It’d be one thing if you’d always been cold. If you’d kept your distance and stayed far away from me. But you convinced me that you cared about me. You made me look stupid.” Your eyes bored into his.

He was silent, still glaring at you, but it had weakened. The words hit him exactly where you’d wanted them to.

You stood up straight, stepping away from him. “I’ll be staying in another room from now on, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to move my things.” You’d already enlisted Lisa to help move most of them earlier, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Absolutely not,” Coriolanus grabbed your wrist. “I can tolerate your anger, but separate beds will not be suffered. Or did you forget your vows-?”

“Which you already broke,” you pulled yourself away from him, turning your back, giving him one last look at you in the dress. “I think sleeping in a different bed will be fine.”

He wasn’t used to being interrupted this much, and he stood in silence as you walked away. Just before you got to the doorway, you reached up, sliding the panties down your legs, turning and throwing them in his direction. “Here. I bet she’s missing these.”

And with that, you left your husband in silence, the last hours of your wedding anniversary lost to the aftermath of his infidelity.

Previous part|Next part

come talk about coryo here!

#coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #president snow #young president snow #milliesfishes #milliesfishes coryo #married to young president snow #spotify #Spotify

182 notes · View notes

seungkw1 · 10 months ago

Text

one more drink — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut (18+ mdni), strangers to lovers ♡ wc: 1.7k ♡ warnings: drinking, swearing, softdom!seungkwan, dry humping, oral (m. receiving), petnames (f. receiving - darling, baby, good girl, etc.)

You keep visiting your friend’s bar so you can watch his cute coworker from afar, but you never expected he’d end up taking you home one night.

“Last call, m’lady.”

You look up from your drink to roll your eyes at the bartender, who also happens to be your friend Jun.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Not as big of a dork as my friend who keeps coming to this bar to drool over my coworker.”

You glance past him at the other bartender, who is drying glasses at the opposite end of the bar. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his toned forearms. You look back to Jun.

“Oh hush, it’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“Sure, sure. Of course not. Anyway, you want another drink or no?”

You throw back the remainder of the mojito that’s already in your hand. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Okay great well I gotta go do something in the back, so you can ask Seungkwan.”

Jun zooms through the double doors to the kitchen before you can even protest.

You sigh as you look back down at your glass. You begin mindlessly stirring the remaining ice with your straw.

You sit there for a few minutes, waiting for Jun to come back - but he apparently isn’t returning anytime soon. You look over to see what the second bartender is doing, but you accidentally catch his eye and he begins walking over to you. Shit.

“Did you need another mojito?” he asks as he goes to grab a clean glass.

“Nonono,” you stop him. “I’m good, thanks.”

He gestures to you with the rum bottle, which is already in his hand. “You sure?”

You think about it for a second. The eye contact he’s making with you right now is very distracting.

“Okay, sure I’ll have one.”

Seungkwan makes you your drink and sets it in front of you. You expect him to walk off, but he just takes a step back, his eyes still on you. You peek down to see you’re the last person sitting at the bar.

“Oh my god sorry, I don’t mean to be that person. I’ll close out now.”

“No rush, you’re fine.” He remains standing there, looking at you.

Feeling a little nervous, you pick up your drink and take a sip. You raise your eyebrows in surprise - this is the best mojito you’ve had in a while.

“Damn, your drinks are way better than Jun’s,” you tell him. His lips turn into a grin - one that might seem a bit smug on anyone else, but you can tell he’s genuinely pleased that you complimented him.

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You go to take another sip but pause. “Actually, do tell him I said that. He’s been a little too confident lately.” He lets out an honest laugh, the sound musical. His perfect teeth flash with his smile.

You’ve never really interacted with Seungkwan for longer than a few seconds - you’re used to simply enjoying how good-looking he is from afar. You thought you had caught him watching you the last few times you’ve been here (your attendance has increased in frequency lately), but you chalked it all up to your imagination. Now you have your doubts.

Since Jun has apparently vanished into thin air, you two start to chat - mostly small talk, really, but your extra mojito is definitely making you a little flirtier than normal. You giggle through your conversation as he finishes up his bar tasks, and he seems to be enjoying the conversation too - he’s always had a very friendly demeanor, but you’ve never seen the man laugh and smile this much.

You’re not paying attention, so you don’t realize the whole bar has fully closed until you see the manager glaring at you from across the room, telepathically trying to make you leave.

“Well, I think I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome,” you say to Seungkwan with a pout as you get up and start to put on your jacket.

He leans on the bar toward you, his face closer to yours than ever. God, he is so beautiful.

“Let me drive you home,” he insists. Normally you would decline, but you’re a little bit drunk and Seungkwan is incredibly hot.

“My home or yours?” you say teasingly.

“Mine, if you’d like.”

You freeze. You never actually expected him to say that. His round eyes gaze at you, his mind clearly in the same place as yours. You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

You barely make it through Seungkwan’s front door before he pulls your body into his, his strong hand on the back of your neck as he kisses you. You make your way to his couch, pushing him down onto it and immediately straddling his lap, pressing your lips back onto his. Your tongue makes its way into his mouth and his into yours, fervently making out with him as he runs his hands up your back. Time is lost as he kisses you, soft moans from both of you as you feel his pants grow tighter under you. Eventually he can’t wait any longer - he slides his large hands under your shirt, taking it off of you and tossing it away. He pulls you in, giving you a kiss on your chest as he squeezes your tits through your bra.

“Stand up,” he speaks suddenly. You obey - he undoes the button of your pants with one hand, the other palming his bulge through his pants.

“Finish that for me, darling.”

You follow his order, taking off your pants and casting them aside as he watches you while undoing his belt. His pants unzipped to reveal the hardness in his underwear, he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto his lap. You moan as your core presses onto his cock through your already-soaked panties. Making out with him again, you can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth, the friction against your clit sending you waves of pleasure. Your mouth keeps separating from his as you’re taken away in bliss, which you keep noticing and go back to kissing him, slowing your rhythmic pace of grinding against him. But he doesn’t let that go on for long - he pulls his head back and grasps onto your jaw softly, staring into your eyes lustfully.

“Don’t stop.”

You begin to move your hips again. He groans as he resumes kissing you.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he mumbles, his lips barely leaving yours.

If your underwear weren’t completely saturated before, they definitely are now.

You pick up the pace. The hand on your jaw goes to your ass as he grabs you with both hands, controlling your tempo. The faster you go, the harder he grasps onto you. The outside of his underwear are now damp where you have been pressing your pussy against him, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock.

“I wanna watch you make yourself cum like this,” he says, his voice low and raspy. You start to grind harder but he forces your hips to a stop.

“But - not until I say so. Okay?”

You nod your head at him.

“Words, baby. When can you cum?”

“When you say so,” you whine at him.

“That’s a good girl.” The words send a shiver up your spine as your hot core throbs. He gazes at you, practically licking his lips, watching you unravel before him.

You resume, his hands pacing you - every time you try to go faster, you’re met with resistance. But he slowly lets you rub your clit harder against him. Your whimpers turn into moans, getting louder and more intense the closer you get.

“Do you want to cum, baby?”

“Yes,” you cry, tears welling in your eyes. Every single nerve in your body is on fire. You won’t be able to hold it in much longer.

“Okay, cum for me.”

The release rushes over your body instantly. The sensation is overwhelming - you cry out as you ride out your orgasm, your body shaking into his. As you come down from your high, Seungkwan grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head up to look into his dark eyes.

“Such a pretty girl.” His large hand rests on the side of your face. “So pretty cumming for me.” Your core pulsates against his heavy bulge.

You rest against him for a few seconds (minutes? hours?), your head nuzzled into his neck. Once you’ve recovered slightly, you sit up, planting another kiss on his lips before sliding down your knees.

“Your turn.”

Pulling the band of his underwear down, you take his cock in your hand, licking the precum off the tip before dragging your tongue up and down his length. He hums as you wet his cock, letting out a groan when you finally take him into your mouth. He places his hand on your head, pushing you down onto him, his length sliding down your throat. Your head starts to move up and down, tears running out of your eyes as you choke on him. Just like before, as you start to go faster his grip becomes stronger, this time against your hair.

“Taking me so well,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum in your mouth.”

You swallow him all the way to his base, his cock drenched in your spit. It only takes a few more pumps before his groans grow louder. You begin to moan against his length, and the vibrations send him over the edge. He holds your head down as he cums, his hips gently thrusting, white ropes hitting the back of your throat. His body relaxes into the couch as his hand loosens its grip on your head. You slowly take his cock out of your mouth, being sure to swallow every last drop of his cum.

He pulls you back onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso, drawing you into him so he can kiss your neck.

“So, are you gonna keep visiting me at work?” he asks you between kisses.

“Only if you keep taking me home,” you quip as you stroke his hair.

You feel his lips smile against your skin. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

[end]

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#boo seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan smut #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan fics #svt fics #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

346 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

if got an idea for a blurb/fic from those new training pics and it’s for boyfriend lessi. reader keeps getting distracted by lessis arms during the training session and alessia catches on and every now and tenses them and after training less teases reader about it 🤭🫣

big flexer II a.russo

"-so then she makes you think that betty is just about these three random teenagers caught up in a love triangle. but really there is this entire theory that-" you completely zoned out of what viv was saying to you, eyes locked in on your girlfriend who'd finally arrived for training.

having gone for a bike ride with lotte beforehand you'd spent the morning away from one another, alessia having left not long before you even awoke for the day. so you of course hadn't seen her get ready and had no clue she'd chose to wear that.

that being the training vest, a tank top something alessia seldom chose to wear when she trained. in fact you could generally count on one hand how little she'd not opted for a tee or a long sleeve.

you knew she'd had insecurities about her arms in the past but you also knew she'd put an emphasis on building up her strength this year, determined to overcome her previous worries.

and jesus christ could you see the results.

"hey! are you even listening to me?" viv snapped her fingers as you ripped your eyes away from oggling at the taller blonde who caught your pining stare just moments beforehand, turning back to her conversation with katie with a small smirk.

last night you may or may not have wound her up by cutting her off right as your make out started to lead toward something more. abandoning the blonde high, dry, hot and bothered as you scurried off to your own room, leaving her with an ache in between her legs and the bitter taste of her longing for you in her mouth.

so when alessia noticed your obvious wandering eyes of surprise and knowing exactly what you were so clearly fixed on, she was more than ready to use them to her advantage.

"you're looking good out there babe." you looked up as your girlfriend now stood before you with her water bottle, your jaw almost hitting the floor as she raised it to her mouth, flexing her bicep as she did so.

"god i'm tired." alessia groaned, stretching her arms above her head and again tensing, the obvious muscles in her upper arms rippling. "you alright?" she smiled innocently, dropping them to her sides and looking down where you were sat on the ground.

"uh huh." you stammered out, wrenching your eyes away and glancing off in the other direction as the blondes smile widened. you were saved by the training staff and jonas calling for you all to return now your water break was over.

that was until alessia offered you a hand up, veins popping out of her sun kissed skin as she hauled you to your feet, an effortless task for the taller girl but she made sure to try harder than needed knowing exactly where your eyes would wander to.

"sure you're alright love?" the blonde smirked, tugging your body into hers as you nodded wordlessly, hurrying away from her, the thoughts of what you'd rather she be doing to you with those arms banished from your mind as you tried to zone in on training again.

though it seemed fate had it in for you as you and alessia were assigned to mark one another in the 7 on 7 game you were doing for your wind down. taking your position in front of her you tensed as her large hands grabbed at your hips.

"if i knew you liked the vest so much princess i'd have worn it sooner." the blonde whispered in your ear, pressing her body into yours as you pushed her away and play resumed.

"now be a good girl and let me score baby." she'd riled you up further just a few minutes later once again pressed in and marking you, hands slipping under your top before you'd shoved her harshly away, your face glowing bright red and not from the running.

"if you're lucky i might even throw you around later after we win." the blondes lips kissed sneakily behind your ear as she pressed into you for a corner, you elbowing her off with a grunt as her hands continued to shamelessly roam your body.

and unfortunately as hard as you tried to keep the thoughts and fixations on your girlfriends insanely toned arms banished, the combination of them plus her abs as she routinely hiked up her vest to wipe the sweat off her face, made you a goner.

you missed three easy goals, tripped over your own feet twice and accidentally slide tackled stina who was on your own team, the mistakes not going unnoticed by the coaching staff and your girlfriend as your team lost 4-2.

mistakes which earned you a concerned talking to as training was called to a finish, pulled aside and nodding in embarrassment at your performance review, assuring you were just having an off day and promising you'd do better.

"not your best performance today babe." an arm fell across your shoulders as alessia pulled you into her side, walking the two of you back toward the training centre for lunch as you shoved her off.

"now come on, don't be a sore loser." alessia tutted, appearing suddenly in front of you, your body barreling into hers as she puffed out her chest with a cocky grin. "it's so hot today." alessia sighed, her hands gripping the back of her neck as she stretched, veins once again throbbing out of her jacked biceps.

"i know what you're doing." you swallowed your want for her, remembering the embarrassment of the talking to you'd gotten that was her fault and pushing past her with scowl and a huff.

"who, me?" alessia smiled innocently with a small gasp as she caught up to you. "don't alessia, it's not cute." you warned seriously, only making her chuckle. "i love you." the striker sung out, placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek which you wiped off with a grimace.

her hand coming to rest on the small of your back she guided you into the cafeteria, the small action of dominance making your stomach flutter.

lunch passed without much more drama, alessia busied in tactical conversations with katie and lia, too pre-occupied to keep up her teasing as viv cornered you to continue on her taylor swift tangent from earlier today.

"oh fuck me." you mumbled to yourself as you all entered the gym after lunch and the staff announced today you'd all be focusing on weights, not missing the smirk sent your way by the tall cocky blonde across the room.

your girlfriend partnered with jen as her spotter while you were partnered with steph, you prayed that it meant your paths wouldn't cross much and you could get out of this afternoon unscathed.

though folding her arms over her chest when not hitting the weights herself alessia made sure to flex her muscles every time she noticed your eyes glance her way, jen eventually catching onto what was happening with a chuckle and a small shake of her head, noting it as something to rib you about at another time.

and look as hard as you possibly tried to ignore her, you were only human, and a needy one at that.

your gaze continued to drift alessia's way all afternoon, almost drooling at the way the ridges forming along her muscles somehow became even more tantalizing to look at as she upped the weight she was benching, jen cheering her on for a pb as your eyes widened.

"oh to be young and in loove." you were grounded back to reality as steph teased you, sat on the bench and grinning up at you. "shut up steffy, i've seen your heart eyes around dean for long enough." you quipped back, the defender shoving your head playfully to the side as the two of you swapped.

your arms aching with the strain of what was a rather grueling weights session, training was called to a finish and everyone began to group up and make their way out of the gym, viv calling out she was making everyone watch miss americana for movie night and attendance was mandatory.

grabbing your water bottle and finishing up your conversation with steph you waved her off and wandered over to your girlfriend who was straddling the bench, finishing up her own conversation with one of the training staff who patted her shoulder clearly affirming she'd done well before he left to chase after jen.

"enjoy the show baby?" the blonde noticed you nearing and smirked, widening her manspread legs as she leant backwards on her hands. flexing her arms with a small wiggle of her eyebrows, blonde hair tied back into a low bun as a few loose strands clung to her flushed face, upper brow beaded with sweat.

"new pb on the bench press, no big deal." the taller girl shrugged cockily, her own eyes dropping to trace your toned thighs that were on display where you'd rolled your shorts up.

"mm so i heard. but hey you know love...you look a little hot." alessia's fantasizing over your quads was rudely interrupted as you dumped your water bottle over her head, grinning as the blonde shot to her feet, spluttering and wiping the water from her face.

"oh you are so dead."

you took off running as alessia sprinted after you, your laugh echoing around as you burst through the gym doors and onto the pitch, startling viv and lotte who were doing a some extra shooting while the staff packed everything up.

"i was just trying to cool you off!" you yelled out teasingly, alessia huffing in frustration as she struggled to catch up to you, though as you glanced at her over your shoulder you missed a small stack of cones and stumbled.

the small missed step was all it took for your girlfriend to clear the widening gap between the two of you, hands grabbing you and tossing your smaller form effortlessly over her shoulder as you squealed.

"lessi put me down!" you demanded with a giggle as the italian marched the two of you back across the pitch, ignoring the teasing whistles sent your way from her best friend. "ow!" you laughed as her hand came up to smack at your behind.

with much whinging the blonde eventually dropped you to your feet as you both crossed the threshhold of the gym which was now empty. the running around in the summer heat had all but dried your girlfriends once damp hair, though you gasped a little as her arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you around a corner.

"hi." you smiled softly as the blondes biceps appeared either side of your head effectively trapping you, hands pressed flush against the wall as she lent in, lips teasingly ghosting yours.

though you pouted as you tried to connect them and she ducked away slightly. "you're welcome." the blonde stated simply and you frowned a little in confusion at her words. "for what, exactly?"

"free admission to the gun show." alessia smirked, pushing herself off the wall as she flexed her biceps in an array of positions, going so far as to kiss either one as you scoffed in disbelief.

"your turn baby." your girlfriend demanded cockily, flexing her arm and offering it toward you as you laughed sarcastically and shoved her away.

"go on and give em a little kiss tesoro, you know you want tooo!" the blonde teased pressing her hips into yours, pinning your body to the wall behind you as she continued to shove her toned and muscled arms in your face.

"oh would you grow up!" you rolled your eyes and bit back a smile, pushing at her chest. "you love it." alessia smirked, catching you off guard as she pressed her mouth to yours. tongue swiping at your bottom lip before her teeth nipped at it, the sight hitch in your breath all she needed to quickly take control of the kiss.

her hands grabbed at your hips as yours gripped her forearms, squeezing her biceps tightly and causing the blonde to let out a small moan in your mouth as you did so.

alessia suddenly pulled away, hand interlocking with yours as she pulled you off the wall almost dragging you out of the gym and away toward her room room in the other building, not uttering a word until she'd all but kicked the door shut, wasting no time slamming you against it.

"you just bought yourself a ticket to the private show, pretty girl."

#woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso #woso fanfics #arsenal women #awfc

653 notes · View notes

anyasathenaeum · 8 months ago

Note

Hey! I love your writing! So I'm excited you're opening requests :)

How about for Vash, something along the lines of either reader or Vash is trying to work on something, but the other keeps distracting them with kisses?

A/N: OMG WAIT HI I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS TOO (SERIOUSLY)!!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this - thank you so much for your request! It's super cute :') I decided to opt for cuddly Vash for this one so he's distracting the reader hehe

"(Y/NNNNN)!"

Vash's soft whine of your name made you giggle softly, but you continued your work steadily, not giving in to his attempts to distract you.

"I know, my love," you cooed back to him softly, "Just let me finish what I'm doing and then I can give you my full attention."

"B-But, what if I want your full attention now?"

The pout on Vash's lips and the way he pulled his puppy-dog eyes on you made you groan playfully, your heart fluttering slightly at how cute Vash was when he wanted you to pay attention to him. Despite being a wanted man with a bounty of 60 million double-dollars on his head, the "Humanoid Typhoon" had nothing but love and affection to give you.

You sighed dramatically, putting down the bag you had so carefully been packing and rearranging, before turning to face him as he lay on your shared bed for the night.

"Patience, Stampede. Or else, you'll get nothing at all," you scolded him, trying hard not to let yourself smile as you did so.

Vash simply let out another soft whine, his pout deepening as he sighed dramatically and covered his face with a pillow, letting out an exaggerated yet muffled cry of "My Mayfly doesn't love me!"

You scoffed quietly before letting out a small chuckle, "I love you very much, Vash. Just let me finish getting my stuff organized and then I will happily cuddle you until the suns rise tomorrow morning, okay?"

With that, you turned back around and continued to organize your bag, working in silence as you tried to focus. After a few minutes of peace, you faintly registered the sound of Vash shifting on the bed and then his footsteps coming up behind you. Without a word, you felt Vash wrap his arms around you from behind before feeling him resting his chin on top of your head.

You let out a small sigh, "You really couldn't wait?"

"How could I possibly wait to cuddle the love of my life when they're right in front of me?" Vash replied, and you could practically hear his smile.

"Alright, fine," you chuckled softly, glancing up at Vash, "I'll allow this. But don't push your luck, Stampede. I'll be done soon."

You could've sworn you heard Vash let out what sounded like a contented chirping noise, but you brushed it off as just being a plant thing. You felt him nestle himself against you, his head resting on top of yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.

However, even this didn't last long, because before long, you felt Vash gently beginning to press soft little kisses to the top of your head. He started with just one before nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling your familiar and comfort scent, but he couldn't stop himself at just one kiss. Shortly afterwards, you felt another gentle kiss being pressed to another part of your head, then another to your temple, and another to the nape of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. Each kiss was slow, with Vash taking his time and caressing your skin, showing just how much tenderness and love he felt towards you each time his lips pressed against you.

"Vaaaaaash!"

Now it was your turn to whine - the heat had risen to your face and you could feel your heart beating frantically in your chest at Vash's tender kisses. Despite having been with Vash for as long as you had been, he still somehow managed to fluster you with ease. But now, it had gotten to the point that you were so flustered that you couldn't focus on the task in front of you.

"What?" Vash cooed back, his tone light and teasing, his breath ghosting over your ear and sending shivers down your spine once again. "Something wrong, Mayfly?"

"Not fair!" You whined again, turning so you could look at him properly, pouting at him just as he had done so to you.

Vash couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sight of you pouting at him - how could somebody so adorable possibly be his? And yet, here you were, pouting at him in all your glory and making his heart swell from sheer love of you.

"I'm sorry, Mayfly," Vash whispered softly, smiling down at you almost wistfully, "I know I'm distracting you. I just... miss you whenever I'm not holding you. My arms miss you, my body misses you, my heart misses you."

"And now you're gonna make me cry," you replied, your voice shaking slightly as you took in his words. You had never felt more loved than you had when Vash was with you, and his words touched you in a way you hadn't expected them to.

"No... no tears, my love. They don't belong in your eyes."

You could feel Vash's fingers, both real and prosthetic, gently brushing over your cheeks before he cupped your face in his hands, tilting your face upwards to look at him. You would have melted into a puddle had it been physically possible from the warmth and love evident in his gaze. Suddenly, the fact that he had distracted you seemed to fall away, and you let go of your bag, instead opting to place your hands over his on your face, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I love you, Vash."

The words escaped you in a whisper, meant only for Vash to hear them. The moment they did, he leaned down and pressed a final, gentle kiss to your lips, holding you as close to him as possible.

As soon as he pulled away from you, Vash grinned playfully, "I love you, too, Mayfly. So, does this mean that you forgive me for distracting you?"

You pondered his words for a moment before answering with a smirk, pulling him back down, "If you give me another kiss, I might consider it."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fluff #trigun vash

188 notes · View notes

lafrexniere · 2 months ago

Text

Let me Make it up to You - GR63

Note: Hi, I got two stitches in my head this morning, really out of it so hopefully this is good :)

It was a late week night, George was in his usual team meeting before the upcoming race weekend. You were sitting waiting up for him like you usually did, but the meeting had gone later than usual. He told you before he left not to wait up, because he had a feeling it would be long, but you attempted anyway. You had the lights off, cozy on the couch, with a show playing on the TV as you waited. You continued to check the time waiting and waiting. As the minutes passing became an hour later than he had told you, you eventually fell into a tired state, struggling to keep your eyes open. You had drifted off to the slurring voices on the TV putting you into a nice light sleep.

It had been probably another fifteen minutes when you jolted awake to the sound of the door closing. You quickly turned the lamp next to you on seeing George standing taking his shoes off looking just as alert as you now were.

“Oh no, did I wake you love,” he said.

“No… well maybe,” you groaned, stretching out your arms.

“No don’t move go back to sleep, I’m sorry” he said draping his jacket on a hook before joining you on the couch under the blanket.

“No I’m awake now,” you yawned, “what time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N, relax,” he said pulling you to his side. He kissed the top of your head, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“How was your meeting?” you asked.

“Long,” he sighed, “very long, I don’t want to bore you with the details,” he grinned.

“Please maybe it will put me back to sleep,” you laughed.

“I’m sorry for waking you and keeping, let me make it up to you,” he kissed your head once again.

“George it’s okay, really” you smiled.

“You sure?”

“Yes”

“Well okay, let’s go to bed,” he said scooping you into his arms. You laughed wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you down the hall to your room. He laid you gently on the bed smiling down out you. He had changed into just his boxers and joined you in bed.

“Good night my love,” you said with your head falling on his smooth chest. You placed a kiss on his lips, listening to his heartbeat falling into a deep sleep.

You woke up the next morning to a sweet smell,

“George?” you rolled over finding the spot next to you on the bed empty. You called out to him again. After no answer you followed the sweet aroma into the kitchen, you found George in some pajama bottoms humming, making eggs.

“Oh, good morning,” he said looking up from the pan pressing a kiss to your cheek. You looked around the kitchen, finding a plate of blueberry scones and a tray of sausage.

“What’s all this?” You said looking back at him.

“Oh I just wanted to make you breakfast after keeping you up last night, nothing much really,” he said so casually as if he hadn’t been working on this for at least a half hour. You reached to grab a plate but he swatted your hand.

“Sit, coffee is waiting at your seat,” he smiled, “you relax love,” you nodded taking your seat. You slowly sipped your coffee watching your boyfriend spin around the kitchen tending to different tasks he had assigned himself to do.

“Everything smells amazing,” you said.

“I know, I’ve been trying my best not to taste anything until you were up. He was prepping you a plate, two scones, some eggs, and two sausages. He handed you the plate before making his own and joining you.

“So what did you do last night?” he asked you, giving you his full attention.

“Got a little work done, watched some TV, waited for you,” you smiled, “and how was your meeting?” The two of you continued talking about your evenings enjoying the lovely breakfast your boyfriend had made.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #george russell #george russel x reader #george russel imagine #gr63 #gr63 x reader #mercedes amg f1 #Spotify

94 notes · View notes

brandyllyn · 6 months ago

Text

Silk from their soul (01)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Teen (series will be explicit) Words: 1500 Summary: The Ghoul takes a bounty and you might be lost

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Wanted: Alive and Unharmed

The Ghoul runs his thumb over the picture - a woman, pretty enough but who knew what liberties the artist might have taken. It wasn’t uncommon to find people had some glaringly obvious deformity that no one had seen fit to mention to him before setting him on his tasks. Hunchbacks, missing limbs, hell he’d had a job once for a man whose only resemblance to the reward poster was that they were missing an eye.

They’d been missing two by the time he’d drug them back to town.

In this case, he wouldn’t be surprised if the woman in question here turned out to be a damn sight less appealing than the picture made her out to be. But he was less intrigued by her hypothetical beauty than he was by the number beneath the image.

Reward: 5000 caps

It was an absurd amount of money, enough to keep him in chem for years. Not that that mattered - chem was simple enough to come by if you knew where to look for it and procuring caps had never been an issue for him. No, the lure lay in the sheer amount - and that caution… alive and unharmed.

“What the hell did this one do?” he asks the woman putting the poster up with a frown.

“Ran away,” she replies with a shrug. “Boss wants her back.”

One of those then.

“This for real?” he taps at the number.

“Boss wants her back bad.”

He nods, pulling the poster off the wall and gesturing to the woman. “You can leave off, I’ll get her.”

“You?” she blinks at him then glances at the wall of bounties. “You sure this is the one you want?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just… boss is real picky - not a scratch on her.”

“Then not a scratch will be.”

The woman shrugs and moves along, tucking the papers under her arm. He doesn’t think she’ll listen to him, but if it keeps her from putting up more signs today it’ll give him a head start.

Tearing the reward amount off he stares at the picture with a frown, studying the woman’s face. She reminds him of someone, not that he could quite put his finger on it. Something in the eyes though…

He grunts, folding the poster and tucking it into his saddlebag. He’ll figure it out when he finds her, and he will find her. He always does. Practically wasn’t fun anymore.

The bounty itself was being offered by someone he didn’t recognize, a warlord calling himself Nero down at what used to be the Stateline - when there were still states to have lines. Probably got himself holed up in a casino like those assholes out in New Vegas.

Sliding his palm down the hilt of his pistol he glances up at the sun. Plenty of daylight left, enough time to ask a few questions, see if anyone had seen her.

“Move it.”

Someone shoves into his shoulder but the Ghoul barely spares the man a glance, turning on his heel and striding across the creaking boardwalk and down into the street. He might oughta consider supplies too, he doesn’t need much to survive on but he does need a bit.

“Someone should take care of those fucking vermin.”

Pausing in the street, he turns to look back, eyeing the man from under the brim of his hat. “What was that?”

“You heard me, asshole,” the idiot continues, oblivious to the idea that these could be his last words.

The Ghoul considers his options. He could shoot the man, easy enough. Wouldn’t take but a second and then another minute to roll the body and see what he had. Would cause a bit of a ruckus though, and he wasn’t inclined to spend his time in what might pass for a lockup round here if the locals took offense to it.

That did leave the more amusing option.

He turns slowly, one hand pushing back the corner of his coat to rest on his hip, the other arm hanging loose at his side. “Seems to me you might be having a bit of trouble with what we used to call ‘courtesy,’” He moves in the man’s direction, slowly rising up the small set of stairs until they’re eye to eye. The other man flinches and the Ghoul suppresses a smile. “Now, would you like to try that again?”

“I s-said-”

The Ghoul doesn’t give him a chance to finish, striking as quick as a cobra with thumb and forefinger. The man chokes but the Ghoul doesn’t let go, pulling on the tongue until the man’s knees buckle.

“Now I think you were properly warned about the consequences,” with his free hand he pulls his knife, rusty and with a patina of grime from Lord only knew where. “So I can’t help but wonder if you might enjoy this.”

“Thowwy!” the man’s neck arches back, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “M’thowwy!”

The Ghoul hums to himself, hovering the blade over the man’s tongue. “We’ll see. Tell me, you seen this girl?” He digs the poster out, knife flashing dangerously close to the man’s eyes.

“Oh.”

“No?” He cocks his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Then I reckon you ain’t of much use to me are you?”

“Oth.”

“What was that?”

“Oth! Oth!” The man points and the Ghoul glances that way. South, fair enough.

“When?”

“Unnu.”

“Unnu?”

“Unno. Unno.”

“You don’t know,” the Ghoul finishes for him, still not letting his tongue go. “Then how, pray tell, do you know where she’s going?”

The man fumbles in his pocket, yanking a poster out that matches the one the Ghoul has in his hand. He takes it with a thoughtful frown, noting the scrawled words on it.

“South to Mexico, eh?” he asks, making a point of enunciating the soft ‘x’. “You going after her?”

The man nods and the Ghoul squeezes tighter until the man squeals, a mumbled series of what could pass for no’s grunting out of him.

“Good.” With a final nod the Ghoul lets the man’s tongue go. But there’s no chance for a sigh of relief before he turns his knife and slices the top of the man’s ear off.

“What the fuck?”

Grinning, the Ghoul slips the bloody cartilage between his lips, savoring the taste of fresh blood. “Something to remember your manners by, boy.”

☢ ☢ ☢

“Man, it’s hot,” you pant softly, resting both hands on your knees as you squint off into the distance. The short sage brush offers little protection from the late afternoon sun, and the trees with their spiky little leaves weren’t much help either. They had a dumb name - like Steven bushes. Something like that.

“I tell you Steven,” you huff conversationally, “days like today make a girl think leaving home wasn’t the best idea.”

The tree didn’t respond, which was probably for the best.

There are hills in the distance, maybe mountains? It’s really hard to tell how far away they are. You had been hoping to get to them before the sun went down but that was beginning to look less and less likely.

And that horned skull you’d seen a while back was starting to feel more and more ominous.

Letting out a sigh you set off again, doing your best to conserve energy. You try to keep to the hard packed earth, avoiding the sandy spots and looking for stones where you can find them. Anything that would make you more difficult to track.

And someone was tracking you, you were certain of it. The Emperor wasn’t going to let you go just because you’d run off. With any luck he’d search down closer to Baja, you’d laid enough trail that direction even a blind man could find it. But there was no harm in being careful.

A hop takes you from one stone to another, your boots slipping slightly on the nearly smooth rock. Something skitters and you freeze, glancing around to find the source. It takes a moment for your eyes to pick it out - a lizard, maybe a foot long, the same sandy brown color as the rocks. It puffs its neck out and tilts its head at you curiously.

“Nice lizard?” you ask cautiously. Keeping your eyes on it you move sideways, waiting to see if it’s going to spit poison or open its mouth to reveal inch long fangs. It puffs its neck out once more, mouth opening and a soft chirp comes forth.

Breathing a sigh of relief you watch it skitter a few feet away from you, turning sideways and cocking its head once more. Only this time, when it puffs its neck and opens its mouth a deafening roar sounds instead.

That did not come from that lizard.

Nor, in fact, do you want to know where it came from. It’s enough to know that whatever made that noise exists. Deciding speed is more important than caution, you take off running, aiming for the only thing in the distance that gives any semblance of hope.

It’s only as you’re climbing, heart beating in your throat, that it occurs to you that things that roar might also be able to climb.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

#the ghoul #fallout series #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you

115 notes · View notes

catofthecanals289 · 23 days ago

Text

nicojack fic - after that silly game vs wsh

The door falls shut behind them, leaving them in utter silence, and Jack immediately opens his mouth.

He’d been quiet on the drive home and Nico had been glad for it. Giving that post game interview had been bad enough, Nico doesn’t want to go through it all again but looking at Jack now, he knows he doesn’t have much of a choice. Jack hates silence and that’s what Nico has been giving him. His voice had cracked on that last word he spit in the gravely quiet of the locker room and it’d taken everything in Nico to hold back his hot angry teas until the shower could wash them away.

He’d given himself five minutes. Five minutes of standing in his shower stall with his back turned to the room and letting himself really feel it – the shame, the humiliation, the bone deep dread of ‘what if this is it’, what if this is what their team is? A group of bumbling fools, of boys pretending to be men, failing at the simple task of not giving up a goal every five god damn seconds.

“Jack, don’t,” he warns him now, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the corner instead of putting them on the shoe rack like he knows Jack prefers.

“I wasn’t gonna,” is the only thing Jack says though, taking off his own sneakers and coat, following Nico into the living room like a ghost. One step behind, but never far, fucking loud in his silence and a sad fucking sight.

His shoulders are slumped, his mouth an unhappy line. It’s not a surprise that when he does speak, it’s not about takeout orders, having a quick fuck, or any of the other stuff he likes to talk about after a win.

“I hated that game,” he says, and Nico can see him clench his jaw.

“Yeah, not shit, Jack. That was embarrassing.” Nico drops down on the sofa, running a hand through his hair.

It’s still wet from the shower and frizzy from his beanie. He couldn’t be arsed with conditioner tonight and it’s going to show. Another thing to be pissed off about, another thing that Nico could have fucking prevented.

The thought almost makes him laugh. He’s comparing that shit show of a game to his shower routine.

“You said so,” Jack says, still hovering by the sofa, not quite deterred yet by what Nico is sure must be a less than friendly expression on his face. He doesn’t have it in him to keep something even close to a neutral expression on in his own home like he did for the media. He’s tired and pissed and beneath it all just sad. Sad and disappointed and fucking scared.

He raises his eyebrows. “You disagree?”

Jack bites the inside of his cheek, glancing towards the window. Nico has no idea what he’s thinking. “No.”

But there’s something. He knows there’s something. With Jack there always is.

“But?” he presses.

Flapping his arms, Jack makes a frustrated, sad little noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nico,” he says. “Or the boys. I’m sorry. We’re sorry. For letting you down and letting the fans down. And fucking ourselves too.”

Nico narrows his eyes.

There’s still more. He can see it in the way, Jack flexes his fingers.

“But?”

Jack shifts from one foot to the other and for a moment Nico thinks he’ll have to fucking work to pry it out of Jack, but thankfully, Jack doesn’t make him.

“But it was game eight,” he says. “It’s still October.”

Nico wishes he had something to throw. He wishes they were back in that locker room so he could yell, so he could point at the logo and ask if it means fucking nothing to Jack, if this is all a joke to him.

“Do points not fucking count in October?” he snaps. “Jack, what the fuck. They are a divisional rival. They made the playoffs last year and were shit, but they made it. And we’re gonna be exactly where we were last year in seventy-four games. Do you want that?”

“Of course, I don’t want that,” Jack shoots back. “But good teams have bad games sometimes. It happens. You know that.”

Again he flaps his arms and Nico loves him, Nico loves him so much he’s funny and sweet and hot and beautiful and right now Nico hates him a little because Nico doesn’t want to be thinking about that while he’s mad. He doesn’t want to think about how this guy who let him down on the ice is also the guy he plans to marry in a few years.

“We haven’t proven that we’re a good team yet,” he points out tonelessly.

Jack’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. “You don’t think we are?”

Nico shrugs, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “We haven’t proven it yet.”

“Nico,” Jack says, voice a little sharper now, arms still by his sides. “Don’t say shit like that in the room. Say it to me here, fine, but don’t- Not in there.”

“I didn’t.”

Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have gone further than he did, and maybe not when it was already too late, when it was all said and done but before. During that cursed fucking second intermission.

Or maybe that would have made things worse. Maybe that would have made Nico a shitty captain. He has no idea. The way Jack is looking at him now, he thinks the answer might be yes.

“You came fucking close,” Jack says, eyes darting away again, tongue flicking out to lick over his lips. They are always dry after a game, Jack never rehydrates enough. “You-”

He breaks off and for a moment Nico is certain he’s going to walk away. Go straight to bed or take the elevator up to Luke’s new apartment, but instead Jack steps closer, getting on his knees in front of Nico where he’s still sitting on the couch.

“Baby,” he says, voice firm. “Game eight. It was game eight. We’ll get going. I’ll- I’ll get going. I promise.”

His hands are on Nico’s knees, thumbs rubbing small circles on the insides. He’s looking up at Nico not pleadingly, but determined. Still-

“What?” Jack pushes.

Just like Nico with him, Jack knows when Nico is holding something back, when he isn’t saying all that there is.

“Nothing,” Nico says anyway.

If Jack wants to get into this, he needs to be sure. He needs to ask for it, Nico doesn’t want to be an asshole, he doesn’t just want to go in on him, but-

Jack holds his gaze. “Say it.”

Nico exhales.

“I’m tired of hearing that, Jack,” he says. “You need to start the season on time, just like the rest of us.”

Colour rises in Jack’s cheeks, but to his credit, he doesn’t back away. He stays right where he is, kneeling in front of Nico, hands on his legs, eyes meeting Nico’s.

“I know. I’m fucking embarrassed,” he says, and that’s at least something. “I fucking hate it, Nico, I- I don’t know why I can’t just- I hate it.”

He blows out a breath, using one hand to card through his hair, a mess like it always is after a game. But still, he stays where he is.

“We need you to start scoring, Jack,” Nico says, looking at him. “I need you to start scoring.”

Jack nods, licking his lips again. “I will.”

“When?”

Nico doesn’t mean to sound as tired as he does, but the word is out and he is. He is tired. They’ve played eight games and Nico isn’t sure what he was expecting, what he’ll feel tomorrow morning, but right now, he feels tired.

“Game nine.”

For a moment they just look at each other, the corner of Jack’s mouth curling upwards slowly.

Nico shakes his head.

“Don’t fucking mock me.”

“I’m not,” Jack says quickly, bending over to place a kiss on Nico’s thigh, lips warm through the fabric of Nico’s suit trousers. “I’m not, Nico. Fuck. I- I wanted that win so badly. You saw I tried, right? You saw.”

Jack did try. He tried so fucking hard, just like Nico did, but none of that matters when the score at the end doesn’t show that, when it’s still a loss for the team. When it’s two points they aren’t getting, two points that might make all the difference come April.

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t enough,” he says, reaching out to scratch Jack’s scalp gently. “Not from me either.”

“You kept us in it,” Jack points out, shifting so he’s actually sitting on the floor, feet planted next to Nico’s, hands cupping Nico’s calves now. “You did that for us.”

“Just to fuck it all up in overtime,” Nic says, and again, shame rises in his chest.

God, he’d really believed they could do it, that they could redeem this shit show of a game but scraping together a win after all. Only to be the one to screw it up for them then.

“I don’t think you did,” Jack protests, because of course he does.

Nico shakes his head “That change-”

“Nico. Neeks.” Jack gets to his knees again, unable to stay still it seems. He reaches up, taking Nico’s face into his hands. “You kept us in it. You made this a game.”

Closing his eyes, Nico blows out another breath. He really, really doesn’t want to start crying again. “And what was the point?”

“One point,” Jack says with his full chest, startling a sad little snort out of Nico. “Loser point, yeah. Fucking hate them, but it’s a point. It’s a point. Counts the same as all the others.”

“Well, no, it’s half,” Nico points out, clearing his throat. “It’s not two.”

Jack laughs a little.

“Yeah, no shit, asshole,” he says. “Still. One more than zero. And next game we’re gonna double it. We’re not gonna stop fighting or believing at game eight. C’mon, Hischier, what are you, new?”

He slips his hand to the back of Nico’s neck before leaning in and stealing a kiss from Nico’s lips.

“C’mon,” he whispers, resting their foreheads together. “C’mon, baby.”

Nico sniffles, wrapping his hand around Jack’s wrist “Gimme something to believe in then, you dick.”

“Well believe in this, baby,” Jack says, and again Nico has to let out a teary little laugh because Jack is leading his hand between his own legs, cupping his junk. “Two balls. One dick. One goal next game, two the one after that. Just for you, baby.”

“Oh my god,” Nico says, giving Jack a good squeeze, before kissing him again. “You better deliver.”

“I’m not gonna embarrass you again,” Jack promises, finally getting on the sofa himself and tugging Nico into his side so he can press a kiss to the top of Nico’s head.

“We all embarrassed ourselves,” Nico says with a sigh, settling into Jack’s embrace, inhaling his scent. It doesn’t make the loss hurt any less, but it does soothe something inside Nico. “It wasn’t- That shit wasn’t on you.”

Jack hums a little, thoughtful it seems. His fingers run up and down Nico’s arm.

“It was a little bit,” he says eventually. “Maybe I can’t promise you, that I’ll score three in the next two games.” Nico can feel him speak as much as he hears it, Jack’s cheek pressed to the top of Nico’s skull. “I’d fucking love to, I’m dying in this drought, Neeks, but I can promise you, that we’ll be better. I fucking swear it. We’ll prove that we’re a good team.”

Nico exhales, the smile that finds its way onto his face feeling genuine, despite the tear that leaks from his eye and into Jack’s dress shirt.

“Okay,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Jack answers, just as softly.

#written for an audience of one 💚#i'm so happy you liked it #and made me post it #nicojack #jacknico #nicojack fic #hrpf

25 notes · View notes

lethalchiralium · 2 years ago

Text

A Late Night Last Minute Request | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: i’m ripping up my carpet this took so long. MY BAD. i wrote an entirely different piece and then hated it LOL HERE WE ARE. (also to the request about learning more about winnie’s mom… here you go babes)

warnings: Mentions of death, pregnancy, miscarriages, abortions, past vague food insecurities, cussing. mentions of canon typical missions. gaz is super sweet and i love him

Summary: Laswell catches Simon at the supermarket, to which he brings bad news home. There's only one thing he wants - a last minute request.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“Told you not to bother me.”

Laswell looked apologetic as she stood in the small aisle of the market with Simon, the folder in her hand looked hefty and he didn’t appreciate being interrupted on a Sunday with Mellie almost asleep in his grasp. The little baby curiously gazed at Laswell, her body still curled into Simon’s chest. “Was important. Sensitive information, couldn’t have your wife looking through it.”

He grunted in response. He snatched the manila folder from the Station Chief, he didn’t have to move Mellie between arms since she was secured to his chest with a black muslin drape - tied to his body and underneath his leather jacket, but she could still look around. He opened the file, skimming through the information and committing it to memory. He’d see it before, but one thing struck him as strange - the target’s latest location was London. He had never left Sicily the few years the higher-ups had been watching him. The man knew crucial information about the Russian Mob and was going to be put in Task Force custody as soon as they could find the bastard and keep him in one spot. The target had a knack for slipping out of everyone’s fingers, and for never being able to be photographed.

Mellie cooed from his chest, her little hand gripping the muslin. He looked back up to Laswell, closing the file. It was Sunday and he was looking through a damn target file when all he was supposed to be doing was getting milk and cat food, now that he still had Missy in his office. “Let me guess, it’s been pushed up?”

Laswell nodded.

“Great.” He turned away, grabbing a carton of milk.

“We’re taking König out of the mission and putting Soap and Gaz in.”

He frowned behind his medical mask, turning back to her.

She crossed her arms. “It’s in three days. I will be staying with your family until König and Roach are able to get there to take my place.”

“Why?” He glared at the woman, hand coming to settle on Mellie’s back.

“A precaution. He’s a little too close to us for comfort.”

“Don’t fuck with my cat while you’re there.” He answered, handing the folder back to Laswell. “Just feed it. She doesn’t know that it’s even in the house yet.”

“A birthday present?” Laswell remarked with a smile, Simon stared at her.

“Not for my wife, no.”

She nodded before taking a step back. “I will see you soon, then.” She turned away then, walking away and turning out of the aisle. The only clue that told him she had gone was the little ring of the door as she opened it, then it ringing again when the door closed.

Simon turned back to the refrigerated section, hand absentmindedly rubbing his daughter’s back. The little girl didn’t make a sound as he moved around the small store, scanning the aisles for something that dumb kitten could eat. Every time he tried to take it out of the house to drop it off at Soap’s, Winnie would follow him and ask what he was doing with the box. He couldn’t make it past his front door anymore with that box, she would appear out of thin air - a trait she apparently learned from him.

He turned down another aisle, the carton of milk made his hand begin to throb from the cold as he noticed a small boy in the aisle as well. Simon glanced down the aisle, seeing toiletries, microwave meals, cans of food and crisps - the blonde haired boy with dirty clothes was staring at the crisps with intent. Simon noted he probably wasn’t any younger than eight, the kid had only a couple pounds in his hand.

Simon easily moved down the aisle, dodging the kid’s little body as he then scanned the cans - hitting jackpot when he spotted a few small cans of tuna. As soon as his hand grabbed a can, he heard a woman’s voice speak towards the boy, “Love, c’mon. I don’t have enough for those.”

The Lieutenant observed the small woman out of the corner of his eye, in a ratty old sweater and pants that have definitely seen better days. She looked tired, her purse was definitely one she had bought for cheap - her trolley only had a box of pasta, a jar of pasta sauce, and two water bottles. It pulled at a string in his head, reminding him of a time where his mother only had twenty quid to get her and her two boys food for the whole week, his father had spent the rest of the money on whatever he wanted - alcohol, drugs, prostitutes. He had moments just like the little boy behind him, wanting something from the store yet unable to afford it. He had protected Tommy when he was ten because his little brother had pocketed a chocolate bar, Simon had taken a beating from his father for not teaching his brother better. If he looked for it, he’d find the silvery scar on the back of his arm from that belt buckle breaking skin.

“Dada.” Mellie cooed from his chest, he instantly looked down to her. Her big brown eyes that looked exactly like his looked so tired, he gently pet her head.

You’ll never go hungry if I have something to do with it. He remarked to his child in his head as he only grabbed two small cans of tuna, the tin’s logo blue and showing what looked like a swordfish. He held them in his free hand before noticing that the boy had gone, as well as his mother - he could vaguely hear her hushed words from another part of the small corner store. He turned around then, eyeing the small selection of crisps that the young boy had been only moments prior.

He plucked a bag of each of the two kinds the boy had been debating over and turned down the aisle, moving towards the till.

The elderly woman behind the counter had placed down her large book as soon as he approached, his daughter gently murmuring on his chest as he placed his five items on the counter. She had dark brown hair, wisps of gray in her tied back pony tail. She began to punch in the amounts for each item, he balanced on the heels of his feet. One hand dug into his pocket, pulling out his worn wallet you had gotten him on your first anniversary. It was a shiny black leather, worn on the edges but still something he’d always cherish. He opened the wallet, pulling out forty quid.

“That’d be ten quid.” The woman spoke softly, her voice kind.

He handed her twenty quid, saying, “Can you bag up the crisps separate?”

The lady nodded, pulling out two small brown bags. She separated the items and bagged them before handing him back his change, then pushed the bags towards him. “Have a good day.”

Simon took the bag with the crisps, slipping the money in before handing it back to the cashier. “There’s a mum and her son in here, do you mind giving the bag to them?”

She furrowed her brows. “That’s… very kind of you. May I ask why?”

Simon looked over his shoulder, down the store to see the little boy staring at a small selection of candy. He could almost see his little brother in the boy’s place, little grubby hand grabbing the chocolate bar and hiding it in his mum’s purse. Simon turned back to the cashier, mumbling a small, “Thank you.” He took his bag of milk and tuna and turned away, going through the same door that Laswell had left through only five minutes prior.

The air had cooled significantly, Simon tugged on his coat to cover Mellie more as he started to walk down the lane towards the tram stop. Sure, it was a corner store but it was still a tram ride and a walk back home - so he had a lot of thinking to do.

He has always hated leaving you and Winnie alone, but this would be his first time leaving Mellie. The baby strapped against his chest was obsessed with him, he knew it would break her little heart when he didn’t come to comfort her in the middle of the night - and honestly, it would break his heart too. You could say that he was going soft, and he would agree - because children need kindness, not a father whose problems are projected onto them.

He moved the bag into the crook of his elbow, his hand tugged up the zipper of his leather jacket up to Mellie’s shoulder, just to keep her warm. He didn’t expect it to get so cold so quickly, but it’s England. He patted Mellie a little, to which the little baby cooed, “Dada.”

“I know, Bug.” He murmured, moving the bag back into his hand. “We’ll be home for dinner soon.”

It had rained in the morning, leaving the day humid and letting the evening mist roll in. He wasn’t a fan of fog, knowing that anything could be lurking around a corner. The tram station was close, he could see it through the light fog. He began to speed walk, still keeping an eye out for his surroundings.

As soon as he stepped onto the platform, the tram rolled into the small stop. It looked empty, the late afternoon rush had already come and gone. He quietly hurried onto the tram, finding a seat near the middle as the doors began to beep, alerting they were about to close. There wasn’t another soul on the tram, he was silently thankful for it. He settled his paper bag with milk and tuna in it on the seat beside him, now resting his hands on his daughter’s head and her bottom to keep her close to his chest and to keep her warm. It reminded him how just more than four years ago, this was what he was doing almost every day: baby Winnie strapped to his chest, a bag of groceries sat beside them and him sitting down, exhausted. Winnie was always such an easy baby, it was a precursor for how much a terror she was to you when she was a toddler. He was sort of glad the baby strapped to his chest now was a happy baby, but that she also had a handful of times a week where she got upset. He hoped it meant she’d be an easy toddler.

He looked out the window as he heard the doors close, watching street lights come to life as the train began to move. With the baby asleep on his chest, he took the time to relax against the seat. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to just think, eyes watching trees pass by. The houses looked like the ones on the street that Winnie’s mom lived, it scratched something in his heart.

Grace de Havilland was a beautiful woman, a woman he had cherished for most of his life. A woman he had gone to grade school with and known almost all his life - wavy chestnut hair that her daughter had to match, gray eyes, and a woman who took no shit. That’s what he always liked about her and what he liked about you too, but she was always just as hot-headed as him. She was his on and off girlfriend since they were twenty one, he was just always so scared of what would happen to her after what happened to his family when he was twenty.

She got pregnant right before he was promoted to Lieutenant, and on a cold fall afternoon, kneeling on the floor of his girlfriend’s kitchen, Simon Riley learned he was going to be a father. All he heard was ‘three months’, ‘my birth control failed’. And he did something that he has regretted ever since.

He stood, turned, and left. And Grace had let him. He had ran away, literally ran all the way back across town to where he lived. He wasn’t proud of it, he punched a few holes in his walls - believing he was a fucking idiot for even trusting her. He knew that it was never her fault, that he was just as at fault as she was. He was angry at himself for even getting her into this mess, that the baby would get her killed by his enemies.

Simon had got over himself too late, but he only knew that in hindsight. She was only six months pregnant with Winnie when he showed up at her door, she was right to slam the door in his face. He kept knocking until she answered again, tears in her eyes and telling him to piss off. He begged her to let him help with the baby, that he would work on himself if that meant he could see his child. That if she wanted to, he would do his best to be there for her. She agreed after he showed up to her house every day for a week, telling him that he couldn’t run again. He did almost everything Grace asked the last month she was alive.

Grace started talking about maybe thinking about names the last morning she was alive. He had made coffee, she had commented how it wasn’t good for him. He shrugged, downing the whole mug before setting it in the sink. He had the day off, he was going to spend it fixing up the crib in the nursery while she drove to her mother’s house in Liverpool. She was going to spend a few days there, he had put her suitcase in her trunk last night. She had trusted him to watch her house, telling him that she’d be back in a couple of days for a doctor’s appointment. He only pressed his hand into her round belly, telling her that’d he’d be here.

Ghost doesn’t wish, finds it to be not worth the effort. Simon, though, wishes he never has to hear that phone call again - especially if it’s about you. He would lose it, he would physically break into a million pieces.

“Mr. Riley, we’re escorting your daughter to North Manchester General Hospital, she’s not in stable condition. You need to come right away.”

There was a small mmm! from his chest, Simon was instantly torn from his thoughts as he gazed down, his eyes settled on the child who looked exactly like the woman he loved. Her brown eyes blinked at him, her little hand reached for his face. His hand took hers in his own, letting her squeeze her tiny baby hand around his index finger. She whispered, “Dada.”

“Almost there,” He answered, looking up at the screen above the exit doors, seeing that their stop was next. He looked back down to his daughter, taking in the curious eyes that matched his and her face that looked almost exactly like yours. His other hand came to gently pet her head, Mellie giggled.

Three days would come and go too fast, he reflected. I don’t ever want to leave you and make you think I’m gone forever. He had watched Mellie grow for the past ten months, something he did with Winnie. And him leaving again was something Winnie was used to, but he didn’t want Mellie to be used to it too.

He wouldn’t mind having another baby but not until you were mentally prepared for the next one, the time he spent everyday with his girls made him a better man. Even the days when they’re more intrigued by you than him, it was the times where Winnie would sit on his bathroom counter and brush her teeth while he brushed his - the days where you hadn’t gotten up early, so he would pull Mellie’s hair into a little pigtail and braid Winnie’s hair anyway she wanted, even if he was never good. He was terrified that something could happen to his family while he was away, that he had no way of protecting them when he had always promised to. That’s one of the reasons why he didn’t want another one, it’s hard enough to handle a kid and a baby, it would be a lot harder to deal with a kid, a toddler, and a baby. He knew you would protect the girls with your life, but he didn’t want you to. He wanted to protect you before they even thought of hurting you or his babies.

The thought of early retirement was heavy on Simon’s mind. Maybe he should, he could spend his days spending time watching his girls grow - he could stay with you the whole pregnancy if you wanted another baby. He could help Winnie with her homework when she got old enough for it, he could take Mellie to her first day of school.

“One of these days,” He whispered to his daughter, hearing their stop be called by the intercom. He stood, one hand grabbing his bag while the other was still being held captive by Mellie. “I’ll never leave again.”

The walk from the tram station was only about two blocks, but it went by quickly since he just wanted to get home. You were making dinner, all you were missing was milk - that’s why he found himself walking to and from a tram in the evening. Simon looked up to his porch as soon as his home came into view, he could recognize that familiar baseball cap from miles away. His daughter was running around the yard, throwing her little bear in the air as Gaz sat on the porch steps, holding what looked like Winnie’s favorite doll.

“Gaz.” Simon called, the man looked up from Winnie and a smile appeared on his lips.

“Hey LT.” He stood up, but then there was a loud screech of “No!” from Winnie. Gaz immediately sat back down, keeping Winnie’s doll faced towards her. “Your girl’s keepin’ me hostage.”

“It’s getting cold, get her inside.” Simon walked up the stairs, hearing Winnie squeal with delight as soon as she heard him.

“Dad! Dad!” Winnie almost screamed, darting towards him and almost tripping up the stairs, her arms immediately grabbed his leg and she held on. “Dad, Uncle Soap and Uncle John are here!”

Simon paused, only a foot from his front door and he turned to his sergeant, who now stood beside him and chuckling to himself. He moved the bag towards Gaz, saying, “The milk’s for Y/N, then put the bag in my office.”

“Oh, where the Missile Launcher is?” Gaz wore the largest shit eating grin as he took the paper bag; Simon had half a mind to take the sergeant’s baseball cap and smack his face with it.

But he didn’t. He only glared at Gaz, lowly saying, “Soap’s a fat mouth.”

Gaz smiled at him. “That he is, sir.”

Simon waved him off as his now free hand went and opened the front door, answering Gaz, “Quit callin’ me sir here. You’re in my house.”

The younger man beamed at him, following him inside the house as Simon dragged Winnie in, her wrapped around his leg and chattering. Gaz helped his friend by grabbing Winnie off of her father’s leg, arm still holding the grocery bag as Simon walked into the front room, letting Gaz pass with Winnie. He tugged off his leather jacket after unzipping it, pulling it off and moving to put it on the coat rack. Mellie chirped from his chest, he patted her little frame before sliding off his boots - the laces only stuffed into the side of the shoe. He pushed them towards the coat rack with his foot before he turned around, heading into the kitchen where you were.

You were everything that he needed from Grace. Patient, stubborn, loving, an asshole when you needed to be. You put him in his place and never made him feel stupid or like he was worthless. He had earned your trust, your love, and the way you held your head high when he needed you.

You were making pasta tonight. You had told him all about it all day, since it was Saturday and the Task Force surprisingly had nothing to do. You didn’t even ask him to call them, you were on the phone by noon and telling them when dinner would be. Here you were, skirting around your kitchen in one of Simon’s sweatshirts and a pair of leggings. You would argue with him that the outfit was nothing special, but he would still tell you that you were beautiful. He made his footsteps silent, using his weight like a cat to try and scare you-

“Dada!”

He looked down to his daughter, but her little head was facing you as you turned to him. Your hand reached for your baby, a smile on your face as you smirked, “Hi Mellie!”

“Say Mama,” He smiled as your hand rested on Mellie’s side, the baby trying to escape from the drape she had been so comfortable in for the past hour or so. You kissed Mellie’s little head, she whined with annoyance when you moved away from her to kiss his cheek. “How’s it goin’?”

“It’s going.” You answered, moving back to the stove as you began to stir your sauce. “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked so much.”

“‘m sure it’ll be fine.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, hand gently settling on your lower back. He ran his hand up and down your back, you glared at him from the corner of your eye. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

Your hand turned down both burners before turning to him, making his hand come to rest on your hip. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes unfocused - his daughter on his chest kicked her little legs against him. “Why do you think anythin’s wrong?”

“You run your hand up and down my back instead of circles, that means you have something to tell me.” Your left hand rested on Mellie, the baby cooed as you continued, “What happened?”

Simon frowned underneath his face mask, unsure of just how observant you were of him. Did you know all of his little tells? Would you even tell him that you did? “The boys are here tonight, I don’t want to worry you.”

“Simon,” You sighed, your other hand coming to rest on his arm. “I’m going to overthink it during dinner and I’d rather know what I’m going to be upset over right now.”

His voice was low when he hooked a piece of hair around his finger, your hand squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“We’ve got three more days.”

Simon could really never say that he was leaving, that the deployment was soon - it was always how many more days until he was gone. When he said he was leaving or that the deployment was a certain day, he found that it made it feel real. That it made him feel worse when he left.

Your hand patted your daughter’s back, the other still squeezed his arm. Your eyes fell to the ball chain around his neck, the ID tags hidden by his t-shirt. He could spot the disappointment in your face and it felt like a punch to his gut; he was also used to waking up in the same bed as you, watching you stir awake and kissing your face.

“Just two more nights?”

He couldn’t stand the way your eyes looked back up to his, fear of him not coming home was a look he could never get used to. He merely nodded, feeling Mellie squirm on his chest. Two more nights before he really became something you had never known, the monster caged in his center.

“We’ll have a good night with them,” He whispered, moving forwards to hover his lips above your forehead. “Let me savor my time with my family.”

“I wouldn’t ever say no to that.” You murmured, your hands now dipping into the muslin tied against his chest - taking your baby into your grasp as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

He pulled away, hand coming to gently smooth down Mellie’s hair as she smacked her little head into your shoulder. He gazed down at you, seeing your face light up when Mellie gazed at you.

“I’ll come home.” He spoke, his voice certain.

You nodded, beginning to bounce on the balls of your feet as you whispered, “You better bring those boys home too.”

There was a chorus of laughter from the dining room, it burst the bubble of sanctity between you and him - yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset. You kept your girl against your chest, gazing up at your husband.

“I don’t want to skip a place setting for our family dinners.”

“LT!” There was a knock on the doorway of the kitchen that led to the dining room, he turned to look over his shoulder to see Gaz, a smile on his face. “Could I steal the little one? Trying to prove that I’m the favorite, not Soap, sir.”

He turned back to his wife, who handed him his daughter before turning back to the food on the stove - you were smiling. He then moved towards Gaz, the little baby curiously staring at her uncle as he said, “Told you not to call me sir in my house.”

Gaz held out his hands towards Mellie, she giggled a little before reaching for him. Gaz took her in his arms, settling her on his chest as she tried to reach for his hat. “You gave me my nieces, sir. So I respect you as my superior and as my brother.” He took off his hat, eyes still on Mellie as he handed it to her.

Simon, who stood onto a couple feet away, was caught off guard. It was a silent understanding that the four of them were like brothers, at least between him and Price, but hearing it come from Gaz? A man with an opinion that Simon also valued? His cold heart thrummed with a warm sensation. “Get back in there.”

Gaz glanced to his lieutenant, a smirk on his face. “Yes sir.” And he disappeared back into the dining room.

Simon turned back to you, gazing at the small smile on your face as he walked back towards you. You were faced towards the food, his hand came to rest on your lower back again. “He’s such a sap-“

“Do you want another baby?”

You turned to face him again, looking up at his face with a small smile. His entire brain seemed to vanish, only blinking at you. He can’t keep manifesting these things. “You’re not pregnant.”

You rested your hands on his chest before looking back at the pans on the stove, humming, “Well, I think I am.”

His hands grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him with a large smile. “You’ve only had a few months to recover, and-and I know that we-“

“We don’t have to keep it if you’re not okay with it.” Your hand moved up his chest, feeling his ID tags through the thin t-shirt. Your fingers tapped the metal, hearing the two tags clinking together. “We both have to be ready.”

“No, no,” He pressed his forehead to yours, his heart battered against his rib cage like a baseball bat. “I’m ready. Are you sure?”

Rubbing his collarbone, you murmured, “Two tests. One was negative but the next one was positive. It’s more likely that it was a false negative since there was a positive.”

“Call the doctor in the morning,” He pressed his lips to your forehead, arms moving to hold you to to his chest. “I’m ready. I promise I’m ready.” One of your hands rested on his shoulder, your head moved to slide into his neck - a perfect fit against him.

You thrummed your fingers against his chest, hearing his blood rush through his neck and speaking, “Let’s just enjoy the company tonight, okay? We’ll tell them when I get past two months.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Your arm pressed between your chest and his moved to wrap around him, you murmured, “Of course.”

“Stay safe while I’m gone.” He pressed a kiss to your head before he moved away, moving his hand to graze the side of your stomach. “Promise?”

A smile on your face, nothing but hope in your eyes for him to come home safe and sound.

“I promise.”

But sometimes promises are hard to keep.

taglist (ignore that tagging hates me): @sigynxlokiwifelover @lumpypoll @multitargaryen @chloeforde @blueoorchid @vir-tual @lolis-pikt @theverycelestialgemini @simpingforleoandnico @prodyng @royalty-purple

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #simon riley mw2 #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x wife!reader

841 notes · View notes