#guy??? he has to let this guy live?? you’re joking. no wonder he left the doctor after that

[jubileepizza]

Watching utopia/the sound of drums/the last of the time lords sequence is always fun but directly after torchwood it is really something hilarious. Imagine the disconnect Jack is going through; he’s spent over 100 years in an organisation where murder is a totally standard, day to day decision, hardly worthy of moral objection, and suddenly he’s facing a man who spends a year single-handedly enslaving and slaughtering the entirety of humanity (including everyone he loves), and his friend/mentor/abandoner is telling him no killing?!!?! And he obeys!!

[roanofarcc]

IN YOUR ORBIT

pairing. javi x fem!reader

summary. a quiet moment between chasing storms makes you feel like you’re in college again, with your two best friends. you realize just how far you've all come since tragedy plagued your lives five years prior.

warnings. pregnant reader, mentions of past trauma, fluff! 

word count. 1k || masterlist

a/n. some love for javi <3

Life moved on in strange ways. Five years ago, after the death of three of your best friends, you weren’t sure how life was supposed to look. You wandered around in a haze for a while after the accident, pulling apart from Kate as she hung up her storm-chasing hat and moved to New York. You had tried to pull away from Javi, but he was too stubborn. Even when he joined the military, it seemed like both of your worlds revolved around each other; you fell back into the other’s orbit every time. 

Five years didn’t seem like much time, but everything for you changed. The loss of your friends remained a carved-out spot in your heart, but time did its best to give something back to you, something good to help ease the hurt. That was Javi. 

Before the accident, you and him were close friends. Abby used to call you two halves of the same brain because of how in sync you were. It wasn’t until afterward, when the harsh realities of life forced you to realize how precious each moment was, that you and Javi became more than friends. Three years later you married him in a little courthouse in your hometown, sweet and simple. And by a wonderful surprise, five years later you were expecting your first child. 

The two of you were ecstatic, still flushed with the new excitement of the news, and yet to get into the plethora of worries that awaited. You had one more tornado season before you had to decide exactly what your future in your field looked like with a child. 

Javi had called in Kate to help with the series of chases his company’s team needed. You didn’t work for them, but you helped out where you could, offering your expertise but never venturing too close to the storm; you had forgone that after the accident, and it took a long time for you to be okay with Javi putting himself at risk again, but you couldn’t stop him from doing what he loved. 

“It’s just so exciting,” Kate said, lounging on the motel bed with a bright smile on her face. “You’re gonna have a little baby! Let’s hope it takes after you and not Javi,” she teased. 

“His brain with my looks, they’d be set for life,” you said, only somewhat joking. 

She looked at you with slightly glossy eyes, a little more emotional than you had expected. “I’m really happy for you guys.” Since you could remember, since you had befriended Kate in college, she had been convinced Javi liked you. At every turn, she was the one nudging you towards each other, but you had brushed it off, thinking there wasn’t a chance for you two. But so much had changed, and amidst all of the bad, Javi was your silver lining. 

A knock sounded on the motel’s door before it was swung open by Javi who balanced a pizza box on his hand. “Who’s hungry?” he said. Before he was fully in the door, Kate had jumped up and snatched the box, bringing it back over to the bed. 

You couldn’t help but feel giddy mixed with a sharp pang of sadness. It felt like college again, sharing pizza in a cramped room with your best friends. Only there were three missing. An incompleteness haunted the scene, but you were grateful for what you had left, and for the future that looked so much brighter than it had a couple of years ago. 

“What about baby names? Have you thought of any yet?” Kate asked before biting into the still-warm pizza. 

“Not yet, but Javi has some terrible contenders.” 

Your husband scoffed, faking hurt by placing a hand on his heart. “You said you wanted to be creative!” 

You laughed as he took a seat beside you on the bed. “We’re still figuring, well, everything out.” 

“Well, if you’re in the market for middle names, I think my name should be tossed into the ring,” Kate said. “I like to think I’m the reason you ended up together.” 

Javi threw a wadded-up napkin at her. She swatted it away with a huff. “No way is that true!” 

Kate scoffed. “Is too!” She turned to you. “You have no idea how many times I had to sit and listen to him. ‘She’s so pretty.’ ‘She’s so perfect.’ ‘Oh, I’m too scared to ask her out.’ ‘Blah, blah, blah.’” 

You turned to him, surprised. Back in college, you had thought about the idea of you and Javi a couple of times, mostly because Kate was sure you’d be a good fit. But you didn't know he had been pining after you for that long before he confessed his feelings. “You really said all that about me?” 

He shrugged. “It was a lot more chill than Kate’s making it sound, but…yeah. What? You think I asked you out, out of the blue?” 

“I don’t know.” You had been so caught up in your research in school that relationships fell to the back burner. Not that it mattered anymore; you two had found your way to each other regardless, but he somehow became even more endearing in your eyes.

“Oh, that wasn't even half of it, but I don’t want to embarrass him even more,” Kate said. 

Javi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You want to talk crushes? What’s going on between you and that cowboy?” 

Kate’s eyes widened. “What? Nothing? Are you kidding me?” 

“He seems to be awfully interested in you,” you added, shifting the teasing onto her. Relationships still seemed to be on the back burner for her those days. You couldn’t imagine how hard it was for her to not only lose her best friends but someone she loved too. The ‘tornado wrangler’ that Javi’s team seemed to be in slight competition with during their recent chases had taken quite the interest in Kate and maybe that wasn’t the worst thing. 

Stealing two more slices of pizza, Kate rolled off of the bed. “He is not, and I have zero interest in him.” With a huff, she made her way toward the door. “See you guys in the morning.” 

“Are you gonna pay me back for the pizza or-” Kate closed the door quickly, cutting off Javi’s words. He threw his hands up as you laughed. “Now it really feels like college again.” 

In the warm glow of the bedside lamp, you looked at him with a soft smile. There was so much you still had to figure out, but even in the chaotic world of chasing down storms, your life finally felt peaceful and on the right track despite the universe trying to shake you off. 

“You know,” you started, placing a hand over the small bump of your stomach. “Kate’s a bad middle name.” 

Javi lowered himself down the bed so that his face was in line with your stomach. “I need you to be a boy, just to spite your auntie Kate, all right,” he said to your baby. “That’ll show her not to pay me back for pizza.” 

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: y/n pregnency!!

Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: moments with the grid kids during your pregnancy

Series Masterlist

Kicking Up a Storm

“Did the little one just ...” Charles’ eyes widen as he pulls back his hand abruptly from where it had been resting on your stomach.

Lando, lounging on the other side of the room with a video game controller in hand, smirks, “Did what? Tried to escape? Can’t blame it, considering the rest of its siblings."

You swat playfully at Lando as Max and George, engrossed in assembling a nursery chair, look up in anticipation. “Come on, let us feel!” Max pleads, abandoning the chair pieces on the floor.

As everyone gathers around, taking turns to gently place their hands on your baby bump, you feel a flutter, a gentle kick responding to their touch. The room fills with gasps of wonder and joy.

“Feels like a future driver if you ask me,” George grins, looking at Sebastian, who chuckles, already imagining another Vettel on the tracks.

Lance, feeling a tad left out, decides to jump in. “Can it hear us? Hello in there, it’s your brother Lance! Remember to pick me as the fun brother, okay?”

Mick, who has been reading every pregnancy book he could get his hands on, chimes in, “You do realize the baby can’t differentiate voices yet, right?”

Lance waves him off, “Details, details.”

Cravings Are No Joke

“Pickles and chocolate? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, holding up the two seemingly mismatched items as he stands in the middle of a grocery store aisle.

Lance, pushing the cart, shrugs. “Don’t question the cravings, just go with it.”

Charles, scrolling through the list on his phone, adds, “Oh and don’t forget the spicy ramen, blueberry pie, and ... pineapple pizza?”

George groans, “Pineapple pizza? Come on! Anything but that. I’m not even Italian and I’m still offended.”

Lando, with an impish grin, quips, “Remember when she wanted the mango gelato at 3 am? That was a fun drive.”

Mick chuckles, “Or the time we went to five different bakeries just to find that particular lemon cake she couldn’t live without.”

Lance pauses, looking thoughtful, “And wasn’t there a phase where she only wanted foods that were purple?”

George nods, “Yep, aubergines, purple potatoes, grapes ... I still can’t look at a plum without laughing.”

As the grid kids continue shopping, picking out items based on the rather diverse list you gave them, they share more anecdotes of the past months. The store’s other patrons watch in amusement as the young men navigate the aisles, often debating the merits of various brands or flavors, all to ensure they get it just right for you.

Later, back home, your grid kids proudly present their haul. You and Sebastian look on with affection as they lay out the eclectic mix of food.

“Did you guys get everything?” You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

Max feigns offense at being questioned, “Of course, we’re professionals.”

Sebastian leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m just glad they didn’t try cooking this time. Remember the schnitzel incident?”

You giggle, recalling the disastrous attempt. “Of course I do. I was cleaning flour off the cabinets and ceiling for weeks. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

It’s a …

The preparations for your gender reveal are in full swing at the local park and your grid kids are at the heart of it. They’ve split into two factions: Team Girl, led by Charles and Lance, and Team Boy, spearheaded by Max and Lando.

Charles and Lance have laid out a series of pink challenges, including a three-legged race where participants wear pink tutus. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it!” Lance proclaims confidently.

Max and Lando, on the other hand, have a blue-themed obstacle course, complete with a mini kart race. Lando, wearing a blue bandana, shouts over the ruckus, “I have no idea what you’re talking about because it’s definitely a boy.”

George has taken on the role of referee. Dressed in a striped shirt, whistle in hand, he’s ensuring that the competition remains friendly. “Remember, it’s all in good fun!” he reminds everyone, though his “Team Girl” badge suggests where his loyalties lie.

Mick, though undecided, has tie-dye patches of both blue and pink on his shirt. “I just want a healthy sibling for all of us,” he says with a gentle smile, standing back and enjoying the antics.

Sebastian, watching the chaos unfold, leans over and whispers in your ear, “Did we really think letting them plan this was a good idea?”

You laugh, “It’s a bit crazy but look at them. They’re having the time of their lives!”

The moment everyone’s been waiting for finally arrives. At the center of the park, a large, sealed box waits. As you and Sebastian approach, the grid kids form a circle around it, their playful banter coming to a halt.

With a shared look of excitement, you both pull on the ribbon. The box flaps open, releasing a cloud of ... green smoke?

The park erupts in a mixture of laughter and confusion.

Max looks baffled, “Green?”

Charles chuckles, “Guess neither team wins today!”

Lando, trying to waft away the smoke, jokes, “Alien? Oh my god, you’re having an alien!”

Mick wraps an arm around you, “Like I said, as long as it’s healthy.”

You smile, nestling into Sebastian’s side, “We thought we’d keep everyone guessing for a little longer.”

False Alarm

“Sebastian! The baby! I think it’s happening!” You exclaim, feeling a sudden tightening in your abdomen.

Sebastian, who was in the middle of mediating a lively debate with Max and Charles over who will be the baby’s favorite brother, nearly trips over the rug in his rush to get to you. “Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths, in and out.”

Lance, eyes wide as saucers, frantically begins googling “how to deliver a baby” on his phone while George starts making a list of things needed for the hospital. “Towels! We need towels, right?”

Lando is somewhere on another planet, muttering to himself, “This isn’t happening. I am not ready to see a baby being born. Nope, nope, nope.”

Mick tries to restore some order. “Calm down everyone. Y/N, are you sure it’s really labor?"

Before you can respond, Charles bursts through the door, holding a bucket of ice. “I read somewhere you might need ice. Here!”

You laugh through the discomfort, appreciating the chaos ensuing because of your grid kids’ concern. "Actually guys, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks. False alarm.”

A collective sigh of relief sweeps the room. Sebastian, still slightly pale, pulls you into a hug, “You sure know how to keep things exciting.”

Lance looks up from his phone, “What’s Braxton Hicks?”

“It’s like a rehearsal for the real thing,” George explains, folding up his hastily made list.

Max, trying to regain his cool, smirks, “Well, if that was a rehearsal, the main event is going to be epic.”

You chuckle, patting your belly, “Guess the little one just wanted to see how quickly you all could jump into action.”

Putting the “Student” in “Student Drivers”

As you and Sebastian sit on the couch, going over your prenatal class schedule, a curious George peeks over. “What’s that? Are those the birthing classes?”

You nod, “Yep! We’re starting next week. It’ll help us prepare for the big day.”

Suddenly, Charles pops up beside George, eyes widening in interest. “Can we come?”

“That sounds cool! I’ve always wondered what those classes are like.” Lando chimes in from where he’s keeping an ear out in the kitchen.

Sebastian looks a bit overwhelmed, “I thought it was just going to be the two of us.”

Lance joins the group, scrolling through a magazine article about celebrity dads attending birthing classes. “Look at this! It’s a thing now. We could all go and support you both.”

Max adds, “Besides, we’re family. We’ve been there through everything else. Why not this?”

“Do they even allow so many people to join?” Mick ponders.

You can’t help but laugh at the eager faces in front of you. “I never thought I’d have to bring an entourage to a birthing class.”

Sebastian rubs his temples. “Okay, how about this? We’ll ask the instructor if it’s okay. If they allow it, you guys can join on one condition.”

Lando bounces on his toes, “What’s that?”

“No teasing or making jokes during the class. We’re there to learn and be supportive.”

Charles nudges Max, “That’s mainly directed at you.”

Max fakes innocence. “Me? I would never!”

You shake your head, “Alright, I’ll call tomorrow and see if our little ... or rather large group can attend.”

Your grid kids cheer, excited about the new adventure. As they scatter, already planning and discussing among themselves, Sebastian leans over to whisper in your ear, “This baby is already turning our world upside down and they’re not even here yet.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “With this family, every moment is an adventure.”

***

The birthing center’s usual tranquil ambiance is slightly offset by the excited chatter of the grid kids as you all enter. The instructor, a calm and composed woman named Clara, raises an eyebrow at the large group but doesn’t comment. After all, it’s not every day that half of the Formula 1 grid walks into her class.

The session starts with everyone introducing themselves. Most couples share sweet stories of their relationship journey. When it's your turn, Sebastian starts, “I’m Sebastian, this is my wife, Y/N,” he pauses, motioning to the group, “and these are ... our sons.”

The room erupts in chuckles. One of the expectant mothers quips, “That’s a lot of kids! You two have been busy!”

Clara moves on with the class, demonstrating breathing techniques. Everyone’s earnest attempt to follow along results in a mix of deep breathing, snorts, and a few stifled laughs. At one point, Max, struggling to get the rhythm right, looks over at Lando and mutters, “I feel like I’m preparing to go underwater.”

When it comes time for practicing labor positions, the grid kids enthusiastically volunteer. George and Charles end up demonstrating a position, with George playing the supporting partner and Charles the laboring mom-to-be. The sight of Charles leaning into George, pretending to be in labor, has the room laughing, especially when Charles exaggerates with dramatic moans.

Lance and Mick take a turn next and when Lance offers words of encouragement to “pregnant” Mick, saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” you almost fall off your chair laughing.

Towards the end of the class, Clara demonstrates the use of a birthing ball. Lando decides to take a leap onto one only to bounce off, crashing into Max and sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The room is in stitches.

Despite their hilarious antics, your grid kids genuinely try to grasp the concepts, asking thoughtful questions and engaging in the exercises.

As the class wraps up, Clara approaches you with a smile. “I must say, this has been the most ... lively class I’ve ever taught.”

You grin, “That’s one way to put it.”

She chuckles, “But it’s clear they all care deeply for you and want to support you both in any way they can.”

Sebastian nods, wrapping an arm around you, “We’re very lucky to have them.”

For Real This Time

Lando and Charles are in the middle of a heated argument over the best way to make a sandwich (complete with props and charts) when you suddenly feel a warm sensation. Looking down, your eyes widen. “Uh, guys?”

“What is it?” Sebastian jumps up right away.

You swallow, “I think my water just broke.”

For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Then … mayhem.

Max yells, “To the car! Now!” while Lance scrambles to grab the pre-packed hospital bag.

George accidentally knocks over a vase in his attempt to find your phone. “Sorry! We can clean that up later, right?”

Mick tries to maintain calm, “Everyone, deep breaths, remember the class?”

Lando, eyes wide, mutters, “This is nothing like the class.”

Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area becomes a scene of organized chaos. As Sebastian wheels you in, the grid kids follow in a flustered procession.

A nurse at the reception desk blinks in surprise. “Is there a convention in town?”

Mick, panting slightly, replies, “No, just family.”

Lando adds, “The biggest family you’ve ever seen.”

Another nurse, recognizing some of the faces, chuckles, “Formula 1 drivers in the maternity ward? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Inside, as the medical team preps you, the grid kids stand outside, pacing and nervously waiting. They take turns peeking through the small window, offering waves and thumbs-up.

Sebastian holds your hand and doesn’t complain once as you grab back hard enough to break every bone in it, “You know, I’ve faced pressure on the track but this ... this is on another level.”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand, “Just remember, I’m doing the hard part.”

Soon enough, after what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, the beautiful cry of your newborn fills the room. Your grid kids, hearing the sound, cheer loudly, causing several nurses to hush them.

Charles, tears in his eyes, says, “We’re big brothers now. Like, for real.”

“Wait,” Lando interjects, “aren’t you already a big brother?”

“Shush mate, let me have this moment.”

Max rolls his eyes but smiles, “Welcome to the family, little one. We’re a bit crazy but we already love you so much.”

[grippingbeskar]

two is hardly a crowd

— john price x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni (age gap, mxf, dirty talk) swearing, mention of death and injury

— a/n: i’m so in love with this man. oh my god.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” You say through the door, knocking a few times.

“Come in.” He calls back, and you try to still your hand as it reaches for the doorknob. Every time he calls for you, you can’t predict what will happen. Some times he’s all work no play, giving you assignments like he does the rest of the 141 with a straight face and serious look in his eyes.

Other times, it’s… less business, more pleasure. He smiles more, offers you a drink. Jokes with you. Flirts… you think, but you weren’t entirely sure Price meant it. You don’t have the most experience with this kind of thing, but he certainly isn’t having those kinds of meetings with Soap or Ghost. He doesn’t compliment them at all, let alone sweet talk them like he does to you. It’s only really when you’re between missions, and almost always when everyone else has gone out for the night or gone off base. He knows you don’t leave even on off days— Price is observant, and the only other one who stays, too.

Swallowing, you push the door open. You know everyone’s gone home this break— Gaz just left last night, and he was only here this long because he couldn’t get a flight out. Now, you knew it was just you and the Captain. It made you as nervous as it did excited, considering the embarrassing crush you were nursing for him.

“I really hope you aren’t telling me I have to spend the year locked up in the cockpit of a jet.” Taking a seat in front of him, you watch the curl of his mouth form around a lit cigar. He leans back, and your eyes are drawn to the stark lack of papers or files open on his desk. All of them are stacked in piles. All closed cases.

“Nothin’ like that, don’t worry.” You watch him closely as he pours himself a glass of scotch. Then, he pushes the full one towards you. “How you holdin’ up?”

“Fine.” You reply, trying not to think too hard about the last few weeks. It was rough— all your missions are, but the burn of the scotch now going down your throat and the undivided attention from Price makes it a bit easier to forget. “Starting to understand why you all drink so much, though.”

“You did well out there, not that you need me tellin’ you.” He looks at you under the brim of his hat, still sandy from the return. You wonder if he ever washes that thing, or if he’s superstitious, like it’ll wash the luck off or something. “All the boys were impressed. So was I.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You try to hide the obvious heat that spreads to your body, nearly making you squint. Of course it was good to be recognised, but hearing it from him. ‘So was I’. You impressed him. “Is— was there something you needed me to do?”

“Just hate to think of you wastin’ your off time in the barracks. I’m not takin’ the jet, so I was gonna offer it to you. Get out of here for a bit, see your family.” The sentiment was sweet, and the idea that he was thinking of you nearly overshadowed his offer.

“I appreciate it, but I don’t… see my family. Besides, I’m not a big fan of flying. I like to avoid it, when I can.” The fact you’d just spent almost a month flying between bases and never said a thing makes Price lean forward, eyebrows raised. It was a stupid fear to have, but it was there nonetheless.

“Take a car, then. Go see— something. Anything.” His forearms were on the table, leaning toward you. His shoulders are slumped slightly, about as relaxed as he gets.

“You trying to get rid of me, Captain?” He laughs dryly, taking the cigar out of his mouth again to finish off his drink. You follow him, needing the liquid courage.

“Course not, love. You just shouldn’t be hangin’ around here at your age. Let us old guys sit and rot, but you— go live a little.” Almost choking on your drink, you bite down on your bottom lip as you swallow. Love. Love. Fucking hell, you’ve been less tense while staring at the barrel of a shotgun.

“You aren’t that old.” You say meekly, dropping your gaze from his intense one.

“Don’t change the subject.” His voice is dripping with authority, one that simultaneously drops you into line and makes you need to shift on your seat. “Why are you still here?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” That shuts him up for a second. Your family probably thinks you’re dead— if they know you’re alive, they don’t care enough to check in. Any friends you had drifted away when you became too hard to reach, missing birthdays and never coming home for holidays— always working. Once you joined the 141, they stopped trying completely. You didn’t mind. You only wanted to focus on your job. The next mission. Keeping people safe. These guys were all the family you needed. Plus, Price was here.

It was hard to find a good enough reason to leave him, and the kindness he always showed you was ten times more than you’d get if you really went home. It was more than enough to feed your ridiculous crush on him, too, which you couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad thing.

“Ah.” He says after a while, and then fills up your glass. The action mixed with the subtle uncomfortable look on his face, like he’s not sure what to do, makes you laugh out loud. The sound seems to relax him again. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, why are you still hanging around base?” You take another sip, the honey flavour of the liquor easing the burning taste. “You’re not afraid of flying too, are you?”

“I think I’ve seen enough of the world by now. Happy where I am.” Before your heartbeat can catch up, he keeps talking. “Besides, the company’s not all bad.”

Your face gets so hot you think you might break out into a sweat. It was definitely one of those kinds of meetings. Your favourite. These kinds of talks with him, where you get to see the man under the title and pressure of the job. Price, as you’ve discovered, is smooth. A gentleman, of course, but such a sweet talker. You only ever see it here, alone with him, but you can never stop thinking about it when it happens.

“If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.” You say, stumbling straight over his compliment. He makes you so confused— you’re usually straight as a steel blade. Impossible to bend, strong willed and focused. With him… you can’t even think. “But you… you don’t have anyone to go visit? You said you aren’t taking the jet. I’m sure your wife would be missing you.”

“If I had one, I’m sure she’d of left me by now.” You honestly hadn’t been sure if he had family. You had a feeling he did… look at him. There’s no way a man that looks like this, talks the way he does isn’t dodging women left right and centre. “When have people like us got the time for date nights, aye?”

“Soap does it. Gaz. It’s not impossible.” Your glass clanks against the wooden table as you set it down, and Price’s eyes seem to light up a little. “I mean… I’m sure you could find someone if you— if you wanted to.”

“You got me there.” He fakes a little surrender, his hands rising off the table. You almost didn’t realise how close he was until he sets them down again, fingers nearly brushing against your skin. “What makes you so sure?”

“You’re…nice.” He laughs, bringing the cigar back up to his mouth. You watch him intently, smoke curling and fogging in front of his face. Ash drops onto the desk, and his giant hands swipe it away quickly.

“Nice.”

“Mhmm.”

“That all?” Your throat feels dry. He was looking at you so closely. Like he could see through you, right to how fast your heart was beating. Like he could see your thoughts in a cloud above your head, as clear and thick as the smoke in front of him.

“Fishing for compliments, Captain?”

“It’s John.” You suck in a low breath at the sound of his first name. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. “And can you blame me? Pretty girl like you, maybe I could get some ideas since you wanna marry me off so quick.”

It was subtle. So like him, smooth and easy, but it hits you like a freight train. That cross of a line in such a short, stupid little sentence, but he knows he’s made a touch down when you smile and hide your face. You were a soldier, for fucks sake— but he had you blushing and smiling like you were a kid.

“I’m just saying, Ca—John. You are nice. You deserve something like that to go home to.” The sentence wasn’t well thought out, two glasses of scotch going straight to your head, but it was true.

God, how you have thought about being that for him. Let him come back from a long mission, take the stress out of his shoulders and have him really relax. He was always so on all the time, so much pressure running the team. He was fucking good at it too, which was worse for your crush on him. You just wanted to take care of him like he took care of everything for you and the team every single time—

“I think I’ve got all I need right here.” You blink up at him, hands gripping the side of your chair. His head is tilted slightly, a smirk on his face. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. Like I said, I’m exactly where I wanna be.”

His voice is low. Lower than before. Maybe you’re just drunk, but his eyes seem a little darker, too.

“On base with me, eating leftovers? Sounds like a real fun t—“

“Yeah. I want to be here with you.” You don’t take a breath for a good five seconds. Just let the confession hang in the air. It’s thick, full of smoke and tension, and the burn across your face is either from embarrassment or pure need.

He wanted to be here, alone, with you. Until now it was easy to sign all these passing comments and looks off to pure coincidence. Maybe even a lack of options, being one of the only straight females on base. But with the way he was looking at you now, it was anything but.

“Are you messing with me?” Your eyes nearly shut completely, suddenly feeling the warmth of his hand on yours. His covers you completely, thumb tracing along your knuckles. They’re still blue and green from the fading bruises of the last mission, and he pays extra care not to press to hard.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes stay on your touching hands, the rough pads of his fingers drawing aimless lines on your skin. “I’m patient, but I’m only a man. Only so much time I can wait before I blow myself to bits keeping this to myself.”

“Keeping what to yourself ?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper.

“I’m your Captain.” He says like it’s a confession, and your heart is beating so fast he can probably hear it with those trained ears.

“I know that.” He makes a noise like he’s in pain, going to pull away, but you’re faster and catch his arm. “Tell me anyway.”

“It’s… you mean something to me. A lot. More than I can chalk up to just admiration. I want to take you out.” He says, his voice trained, like he’s using every ounce of bravery he’s got to get the words out. Only then does he finally look up at you, his pupils nearly overtaking his eyes. “I want to see you outside this place. I don’t wanna be looking over my shoulder every three seconds makin’ sure no one’s watching the way I’m staring at you. You’re in my head. Can’t get you out of it. I want to do this the real way. The right way.”

“I—“

“But if you don’t feel the same, you’ll never have to hear it again. Trust me. I’ll learn to live with it. I— it’d just kill me if I never asked.” He runs over your sentence, then leans back, taking a few puffs of the cigar like a reflex.

“You really aren’t messing with me?” Your hands were reaching out instinctively, missing his touch, as fleeting as it was.

“No, love. Just been working up the courage.” You were grinning like an idiot at his expression. The composed face of your Captain had folded in on itself, now replaced by the man you knew was underneath— admittedly a little more nervous than you were familiar with. “Is that… do you—“

“Oh! Yes. Yeah— fuck yes. I’d really like that.” Nodding rapidly, his head hangs back and he sighs a little in relief. Adjusting his hat, he watches you smile at him, fondness dancing in his eyes.

“Guess I wasn’t the only one thinking about it?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Nah. The foods just really shitty on base. I’d do anything for a good meal.”

“Ah. Of course.” He squints, smirking as you laugh. He takes another drag of the cigar, and you watch his mouth intensely— letting your eyes linger with the safety of his confession. “Well, can’t deny a pretty face like yours, can I?”

“In that case, I haven’t eaten since this morning.” You say, the words fumbling out of your mouth before you have a chance to reign them in.

“It’s nine o’clock, Private.” He chides, the tone of his voice making you squirm in your seat. “You wanna go now?”

“You’ve been patient enough, haven’t you?” Your leg bounces with all the extra energy you suddenly have, mind wiring with thoughts of where he would take you. He stands up, and you follow him, pushing your chair back as he clears the distance around the table in two steps.

Those giant black boots, ones he still hasn’t changed out of since coming back. They were tracking dirt and mud all over the hard wood floor, and you had a feeling he’s never had anyone tell him to take his shoes off before he came inside. Probably why he wears his camouflage jacket everywhere, too. You hate to imagine the state of his real place, wherever that may be. He keeps walking towards the door, unlocking it and nodding towards you.

“Come on, then. Better move if you want anything other than pizza.” He smirks, and you really could walk out the door. You could, and make him take you out to a nice dinner. He’d be sweet, and you know you’d probably ask him a thousand questions that he would answer without skipping a beat. And you want that— you do. You’d thought about it more times than you’d admit out loud. You’d get there.

But right now, you had too much adrenaline. It was like being on a mission— heart racing, antsy to just jump in with both feet and not look back. There was something about living the life you did that made you not want to wait for anything anymore. Now, you had been so, so patient with Price, because you had to be. But now it was right there in front of you, standing at the open door.

A kick in your step sends you right up to the door, your hand slowly pushing against his grip on it. It’s squeaky and obvious what you’re doing— and his eyebrows raise higher and higher, eyes flicking down to you when the lock clicks shut.

“Not hungry?” He rasps, taking a step closer to you. His hand drops from the door, settling gently on your hip.

“I have something else in mind.” Your hands fist in his jacket and you yank him forward, feeling his hand on your neck as you finally kiss him.

He doesn’t rush, taking his time to feel your mouth against his. Once he realises you don’t want to let him go, he drags his hand up your face, along your cheekbone, thumb tracing along your skin lightly. You push yourself up on your toes, wanting to be closer.

He grabs you a little harder, and you moan into his mouth when his hand tangles in your hair. He uses it as leverage, nearly pulling you off the ground. He’s wrapped his arm around your waist, and the warmth of his body against yours has you pulling on the hair that hangs out of his hat. He’s the one to make a sound now, letting out a low groan when you fist your hands and tug.

He tastes like expensive cigars and scotch, his mouth burning it’s way into your memory. Every time you look at him from now on all you’ll be able to think of is how he tastes, and how easily he’s taken over you. He towers over you, and with one hand still around your waist, the other tucks your hair behind your ear, a hint of something softer despite the neediness of both your movements. You hate it like that, always thinking you look off balance. It’s why you have your head shoved in a hat most days, but he seems to like it. He walks you backwards, away from the door, picking you up with a strong forearm under your ass until you feel your calves hit the hard wood of his desk. He presses close, only leaving your lips for a second to kiss along your jaw. When you whine and tug on his hair, he comes back up, and you can feel him smiling through it.

When you need to take a breath, reluctantly you lean back, eyes fluttering open when you feel his forehead press to yours. His hands cup your face, enveloping you in the feeling of him everywhere. The shadow of his body blocks out all the light in the room except for him, tunnel visioning him into focus.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You say before you can think, almost like some kind of trance had overtaken you. Price laughs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip lightly.

“Is that right?” You nod once, and he leans closer, his mouth lightly pressing its way along your neck. You squirm in his touch, needing more, but he only gets further away. “You have no idea how many times I thought about walkin’ down to your room and begging you to put me out of my misery.”

“Fuck, Price.” You tug him closer by the ends of his jacket, smiling when you feel his hands fall to your waist and his head pull back. “You should of. It’s so lonely in there.”

“Don’t play games with me.” He says lowly while you bat your eyes up at him, that authoritative tone rumbling through every word. “Your tuggin’ on my last string of control with that look.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll finally snap.” He groans, kissing you lightly.

“I should do this right. Take you out. Buy you flowers and dinner.” His hands begin to wander again, getting a little more daring, opposing the words he’s trying to talk himself out of. “You deserve it.”

“You could just propose, skip the twenty steps and get a ring.” He smiles again, finally, and even if it’s controlled and Captain like, it’s a smile. “Heard you army boys like to settle down pretty fast, anyways. That what you want?”

“Fucking hell. You really are trying to marry me off.” You shrug, and something much more intense is in his eyes now. It makes you tick into a higher gear, cogs turning faster and faster. “Can I kiss you again?”

Instead of answering, you bring both hands on either side of his face and yank him to you, moulding your mouth to his. It’s desperate, one lonley hand seeking another as he puts his palm over yours, then moves you seamlessly. You mould for him, standing as he hurls you up and into his arms, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist tight even when you feel the hard wood of the table under your thighs. He reaches behind you, one hand on your lower back rolling your hips towards him, the other now revealing his half finished cigar.

You want to roll your eyes, but he’s too overwhelming to think about anything else. The way he smells— smoke and old spice filling your senses. You can’t get enough of it, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingertips tracing up his neck. For a second you hesitate, feeling the material of his hat against your knuckles, but the slightest touch of your hand in his hair makes him groan into your mouth, and you throw all caution to the wind.

He kisses you a little rougher now. Keeping you still with one strong arm around your waist, he’s slowly uncoiling, strand by strenuous strand. His other hand is still occupied with his cigar, and you can’t figure out why he’s holding onto it right now until you hear something crash and hit the floor behind you.

“Jesus, Price.” You sigh into him, only opening your eyes for a second to see he’s shoved everything on his desk to the floor— ashtray shattered in pieces under your feet. Didn’t want to waste his damn cigar, but the countless files on his desk weren’t important enough to him.

He pulls back, your lips chasing him even though your lightheaded from a lack of oxygen. You open your eyes again, your arms still wrapped right around the back of his neck, and your head drops to the giant mess on the floor. Cigar still secured in his fingertips, both of his hands cup your face, forcing you to look at him. You’ve never seen him unwound. He’s your Captain— a man of control, someone who’s always three steps ahead of the enemy. But here, breathing hard and standing between your open legs, he looks fucking wild. His eyes are half shut, and he’s smiling like a fool, the sight making you feel even warmer with him this close to you.

“You are something else.” He murmurs against your mouth, making you smile.

“And you’re a fucking tease.” You kiss him again, and he nearly whines in his own protest as he pulls back. “John.”

“I know, love. I’ll take care of you.” He steps away a little, one hand dropping to the edge of the table. “Mind holding onto this f’me?”

He brings his other one up, the end of the cigar appearing in front of you. Instead of handing it to you, his thumb drags down against your lip, your mouth opening for him on the silent command. Dark eyes watching your every move, he puts the end of the cigar in your mouth, watching you take in the familiar taste of it. Of him. It sends a buzz through your veins now, the alcohol and feeling of him overloading your body. He lets his hand slip to your jaw, smirking at the way your teeth nearly bite into the end. Then, the asshole winks at you, and you almost choke on the smoke burning through your chest.

“There’s a good girl. Stay nice and still, yeah?” He presses a quick kiss on your cheek, watching as you nod slowly. Mesmerised. It’s taken about five minutes and a few well chosen words for one of his best soldiers to become a puddle in front of him. You knew it was a little embarrassing how quickly you lost your nerve with him, but he didn’t have to look so smug about it.

Just as you think you’ve recovered, he drops his hands, still staring at you as he expertly undoes your military pants. He doesn’t even have to look down, just watches how your eyes close, head falling back as he yanks them down your legs and his fingers hook into the fabric of your underwear.

You almost forget the cigar completely, moaning around the end of it as you feel him draw closer. The rough pads of his fingertips, hardened from years on the force, are gentle and soothing against the sensitive skin, and he plays with the seams sitting around where you are clearly edging him towards.

He’s not watching you anymore. No, now his eyes are occupied with the sight in front of him, just below your face. How your back is arched towards him, enticing him to move a little faster. Your legs spreading across his table, knuckles white as they grip the edge in anticipation. Then, there’s your fucking underwear. Price spits out a few curse words, then rips them away, tucking them into the pocket of his own pants.

“You wear that just to drive me insane?” His hands splay on your thighs, rising higher and higher. You hum around the cigar that’s growing heavier in your mouth. “That what you wear all the time? Pink and lace shit under all that gear?”

“Just hopin’ you’d take it off and find out.” You mumble, only half coherent with your mouth full. The comment seems to undo something in him, and his restraint frays as you finally, finally feel two of his fingers dragging slow, steady circles on your clit.

You crumble forward, hips shifting to seek out something a little faster, but his free hand holds you down. He kisses along your neck, down to his collarbone while setting you alight with his soft moving hands. As he dips just below there, in a place he knows will be hidden in your uniform, he spends time there. He listens to the little noises you make, how you say his name like it’s the only word you know. He fucking knows he has you right there— and he hasn’t even taken off his shirt.

“You are so gorgeous, baby. You know that?” His mouth is so hot and his fucking hands— they were playing you like a violin. Plucking all the right strings, a melody of pleasure played out of your mouth, interrupting his ramble. “Never gonna be able to keep my hands off you. Not when I know how sweet you sound.”

“Hmph.” You groan around the butt of the cigar, and he grins a little mockingly, cooing as he takes the cigar from your nearly open mouth.

“There you go, did real good for me. Need to hear you louder though, princess.”

“Please, Price.” Your hips buck, and his fingers dip lower, teasing.

“You ask me, it’s yours.” He whispers, then bends down to press one long, bruising kiss to your lips, one you take greedily.

“I need you.” He kisses you, humming low into your mouth, then you feel one of his strong fingers curl inside of you. “Ohh— fuck.”

“You’re alright darlin’. That’s it.” He whispers in your ear, and your mind focuses only on the sweet adoring touches of his free and and his mouth and the coil tightening low in your stomach.

Everything is only him— the roughness of his hands subsided by the gentle graze of their touch, exploring all the parts of you he’s telling you he’s dreamed about. His other hand, finding the places that make you scream the loudest, never letting up as your eyes roll backwards into your skull. His mouth— god, that fucking mouth. The way he’s talking to you, telling you all the ways he’s imagined you spread out for him, how long he wants to take with you, how hard he is for you, only you.

Your hands reach towards him, sliding down his toned chest, along the lines of his jacket until you blindly caught on the waistband of his jeans. You could feel yourself slipping into that blissful heat low in your stomach, but you wanted him to fall with you. As much as he was talking, you were just as desperate to get your hands on him, even if you couldn’t articulate words right now.

“You don’t ha—fucking hell.” He growls, kissing you harshly as your hands slip into his pants and palm him through his boxers. “I’m not gonna last. You’re fucking me up real good, princess.”

“J-Just let me make you feel good, too.” You blink your eyes open, pleasure skittering up your spine. He pumps his fingers inside of you faster, skilled in a way your brain can’t compare to anything else. The rough skin of his palm drags across your clit with every move, sending your hips into a roll in search of more— greedily chasing whatever he’d give you.

When you finally feel him, hot and heavy in your hand under his boxers, you can feel he wasn’t lying. He’s a fucking mess— a choked moan shocking through him as your thumb gently swipes across his tip. When you pull away he looks up from where his head dropped on your shoulder, eyes only half open to watch you spit in your hand, and then return to wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly.

“Ohh, fuck. That’s good. Fuck, that’s so good.” He praises, hot breath kissing your neck and collarbone. You could tell he liked to talk, but it wasn’t even the words he was saying that was sending you spiralling helplessly anymore. It was the noises.

Desperate, nearly whining as you tighten your grip, matching the pace of his two, strong fingers curling inside you. You felt boneless— foreheads pressed together as you watched each other fall apart from just the others hands. You weren’t much better, high pitched, girlish sounds that had nothing of the trained solider in them. Just a girl, spread out on her Captains desk, exactly where she wants to be.

“So tight, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” You hum, closing your eyes and imagining it. If he felt this thick in your hands, you couldn’t imagine how he’d feel in— “Gonna take you out to a nice dinner and then bring you home, fuck you in a real bed. Fuck… you think about this too?”

“A-all the— fuck, right there— all the time.” You manage, vision beginning to blur. “I’m so close, Price. Please.”

“Give it to me. Wanna feel how wet you get after you cum for me.” He groans. He switches so fast— low, heavy voice interrupted by slightly higher moans and a gasp. He’s so hard to keep up with, it melts your brain down to only the simplest of instructions. “Cum for me.”

You lose conscious control of your hand, only knowing to keep holding him like that as his hips buck, fucking into your palm. Pleasure takes over— zapping and skittering through your body, making your legs shake. His breathing gets faster, stuttered little gasps coming from him as he guides you through your orgasm, hand slowing to a soothing rhythm.

There was none of that softness for himself, though. No— he was nothing but hard and fast, using your hip as leverage to drag his length along the wet hold of your hand. The table creaks under his strength, and you wrap your free hard around his neck again to hold on tight, needing to see him through it.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls, and then covers your hand in warmth as he cums to the sight of you. His jaw is hanging open and you take the opportunity, kissing him desperately. He responds even with the pleasure clouding his thoughts, all tongue and teeth and feral sounds as his hips slowly still in your hand.

Both of you are reluctant to let go of each other, but you seemingly find yourselves at the same time as you both flinch at the touch of the other. You take your hand back first, sliding up along the lower contours of his abs. You’ve been obsessed with that part of him for so long, it’s nearly surreal to have it under your hand.

“You… Jesus Christ.” He breathes deep, his head falling to the crook of your neck. He kisses you affectionately, taking slow inhales like the taste of your skin will bring the oxygen back to his lungs. “That’s not what I thought this meeting was going to go like.”

“Funny.” You say softly, still searching for your voice. “It’s exactly what I had planned.”

He sits up at that, and you catch the look of him believing you— just for a second before he shakes his head, smirking.

“Alright, smart ass.” You laugh, tugging him to stand closer between your spread legs. “You okay?”

“Never better.” He kisses you softly again.

“You gonna let me take you out? Do this the proper way?” His hands hold your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin. “Cause I meant it when I said I’m not keeping my hands off you now. I’m a man of my word.”

“Pizza is fine with me.” You smile, and he picks you up off the desk, but not before sneaking one lazy kiss while you’re up in his arms.

Pizza would be fine every night, you think as you quickly pull your pants back on and follow him out the door, still seeing the light pink fabric of your underwear sticking out his back pocket.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

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[websterss]

THE CRUSH — LUKE PATTERSON

SUMMARY: Y/n finds it difficult already living in one of the most hated towns, but imagine her shock when Shadyside’s very own Sunset Curve's frontman and high school band percussionist takes a liking to her.

WARNING(S): some fluff

WORD COUNT: 1,743

PAIRING: Alive!Luke Patterson x fem!Reader, Deena Johnson x fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Shadyside, 1994.

“Hey come check out our gig this Friday, it’s gonna be a night to remember!” Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby handed out T-shirts and their demo to a few classmates. Luke patted the back of some of them for encouragement.

“Sunset Curve, that’s us!” Alex pointed at himself. Then put his head down.

“Tell your friends, okay!” Reggie winked at a few girls who blushed.

“Hey, are you doing anything this Friday?” Bobby left the group and joined a group of girls who giggled at his approach.

“Guys I can’t wait for this week’s gig! I can barely even focus on class.” Luke stopped at his locker to take out an empty notebook and pencil for his next class.

“You don’t even pay attention regardless…” Alex called him out.

“Yeah well…I’m-“ Luke scratched his head trying to come up with something to say.

“-Excited.” Reggie started.

“-and can’t stop reminding everyone about Friday…” Alex gave him a pointed look.

“Okay, okay. I get it, I’ll shut up.” Luke laughed, hitting them playfully. “But come on guys, this gig could be our big break for us. Imagine all the record execs and the labels that’ll want to sign us. This could be huge!”

“Well, until then we have a math test to get to.” Alex reminded them.

“Shit that was today?” Luke began panicking. “No, no, no.”

“We have a test? I thought that wasn't until next week” Reggie’s eyes grew wide.

"Today is next week." Alex shook his head, as he took his notebook out of his bag.

“I’m screwed.” Luke's arms flopped to his sides. “My mom already got onto me for skipping classes, if I get another bad grade…” He sighed. “This is the start of a bad day boys.” He grew annoyed but then did a complete 180 when he saw you. “Did I say bad day? I meant my day just got a whole lot better now that I’ve been blessed by the sight that is Y/n Y/L/N!” Luke bit his lip as he called after you. You walked by him and the guys in the hallway. “Hey Y/n, has anyone told you today you look beautiful?” Luke leaned against his locker and nudged his chin up at you. You were on the other side of the hallway opening your locker. You rolled your eyes and turned around.

“Fuck you, Luke!” You scoffed at his attempts to get at you again.

“Well if you’re offering, then by all means lead the way-“ He walked over to you and leaned against the locker next to yours.

“Keep dreaming…” You laughed and shoved him away.

“I will.” He smiled at you and stared at you with a glint in his eyes.

It was like a staring contest, trying to see who’d break first to have the upper hand. That’s how it’s always been between you two. A contest to see who could resist the other person’s charms and flirtatious attempts. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes. Luke did a little victory dance in his head. He truly felt lucky that he could hold your attention. Work you up to make you smile just a little bit longer at him. Crack a stupid joke to hear your affectionous laugh. Tell you how truly beautiful you looked just to watch that little glint in your eyes appear. It made his stomach swirl of butterflies….butterflies were cool. 

Not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

He let you switch out your textbooks in peace before opening his mouth to tell you about Friday.

“Hey, so I was wondering-“ He scratched the back of his head.

“Move!”

You looked up right as Deena came through and shoved the brunette out of the way. Luke looked stunned. The push had him stumble backward a bit. Gravity defied him, so he fell on his ass in front of everyone in the hallway. He got up trying to play it cool. Yet you could see a snip of his pride melt away. You bit back a laugh as your eyes flicker between Deena switching out a notebook from her locker next to yours and Luke scowling at her.

“Hey, Deena.” You smiled at her.

She stopped what she was doing and gave you her attention. 

“Hey.” She stuttered. Luke had been forgotten about for a second. “Ready for the test today?”

“I can’t decide if I want to hurl or faint. Mr. Delancey always adds a bonus question to throw us off, and I don’t know if I can remember the circumference of a circle.” You joked.

“I’m sure you’re gonna do great…did my notes help?” Deena bit her lip.

“They did actually-“ You swung your bag around to the front of you and pulled out her notebook.

“Thanks again for letting me borrow them.”

“It was no problem…anything to help.” You met her eyes as she slowly took the notebook back.

Once Luke was at your side again you turned to face him and slapped the side of his shoulder playfully. “You okay there?” Luke could hear the pitch in your tone switch. You were picking on him.

“What? That? It was nothing…” He shrugged it off. “Deena and I joke around like that all the time.” He laughed, then proceeded to hit her shoulder with his own. “Right, Deena?” Deena fell into the lockers with a slight thud. You winced. She looked about ready to kill him. You laughed nervously. Luke and Deena stared each other down. You wanted the tension between them to dissolve so you opted to drop your notebooks on the ground. The two turned away from each other and peered to the floor then you pretended to have clumsily dropped your stuff. Luke immediately bent down to retrieve your notebook while Deena collected the few pens that rolled away.

The two stood to their feet handing you your belongings. 

“T-Thanks.” Your hands brushed against Deenas first. Then you turned towards Luke, his fingertips purposely curling under your palm, letting his touch linger. “T-Thanks.” God, you swore your heart was pounding in your ears. How did anyone handle a crush let alone two? 

You could almost hear a pin drop before they broke the silence.

“You coming to the concert this Friday-”

“You going to the game on Friday-”

Oh boi.

You straightened up as the two turned their heads at each other confused.

“Yeah!” You blurted out without a second thought.

“Yeah, you’ll be at the concert?” Luke pointed at himself.

“-Or yeah you’ll be at the football game?” Deena pointed to herself.

You froze, your eyes growing. You swallowed down your anxiety slowly building up. You were about to open your mouth but got saved by the bell.

“Thank god…” You sighed in relief only to realize they heard you say it out loud. You opened your eyes to see them waiting for your answer. “I-uh. Math!” You pointed past them and sped off like your life depended on it. “Oh my god what is wrong with you?” You muttered under your breath to yourself.

Luke watched you walk away with furrowed brows before turning over to Deena who was closing her locker shut.

“Since when did you fancy, Y/L/N?” He eyed her up and down crossing his arms over his chest.

“Since she kissed me underneath the bleachers behind the football field.” She smirked watching his ego dying.

“No way. Seriously?”

“No! Don’t you have a math test to fail?” She shoved past him, walking off to the class you all shared for the third period.

“Deena wait.” He held her arm, making her halt.

“What?” She sighed, waiting for him to continue.

He saw right through the wall she was putting up. He knew about her first girlfriend Sam, though things didn’t seem to work out. Yet he guessed Deena moved on considering she had been trying to gain your attention for weeks now, just as he was trying his hardest. She looked back down towards the door you entered.

“Holy shit! You’re serious. You like her.”

“No, I just wanna use her for notes. No shit, Sherlock. She’s amazing, can you blame a girl?” Deena shrugged.

“That’s gonna be a problem for me?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…cause I like her too.”

She found him trying to be intimidating, amusing. “Do you want a gold star or something?” She crossed her arms.

“No, but I want to ask her out.”

“So do I.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” He suggested.

“How about…” She paused and reached into her flannel. She brought her hand out and directed her middle finger at him. The huge smile on her face made Luke roll his eyes. “How about this though, we just play it daily until Friday to see who she’s interested in. She’ll either show up to the concert or the game and then we’ll see who she likes. No bitching, no complaining.”

“Okay, okay, I can work with that.” He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure about it.

“You sure?”

“Yeah…for sure.” He nodded.

“Okay, burnout. See ya in math.” She smirked at him. She shoved a slip of paper into his chest and walked off to class. Luke brought his hand up to his chest to catch the slip of paper. He turned it over and chuckled. He looked up in time to see Deena at the other end of the hall. It was a cheat sheet. “Thanks!” She only responded by throwing a thumbs up in the air. He heard the final warning bell go off, as he picked up his book bag. He hurried up and entered the class as Mr. Delancey was just about to shut the door. He gave the man a small smile before taking his usual spot behind you towards the back. He smiled as he watched you go over your notes. Your foot tapped lightly against the ground. He knew how stressed you got when it came to the test. He almost felt bad for pulling you out of your thoughts, but he gently tapped his finger against your left shoulder. Without even turning around, you automatically rested a pencil on your shoulder for him to grab. He bit his lip to prevent a smile from breaking out.

“Thank you, beautiful.” He whispered. You hummed in response, then got back to going over your notes before Mr. Delancey told everyone to put their things away.

[blue-slxt]

It Was Supposed To Be Us - Chapter 1

A/N: So Neteyam's fic won the poll and I'm so excited to start this new journey with you guys! The plan is to release each new part weekly. So this series will update every Monday. If that changes for any reason, I'll update you guys about it. For now, I hope you all enjoy this intro chapter.

Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of depression? Mentions of bullying, arranged marriage, that's it for this part.

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You and Neteyam are childhood friends. You got to be so close that the two of you promise to be mates when you're older. But when the Sully family has to leave the forest, you wait for him to return and fulfill his promise to you.

“Why are you crying?” a small voice snuck up behind you. The sound of your own sobs drowned out the footsteps approaching you. Your knees pressed to your chest and your head hidden in your arms, the tears seem to be never ending. A young boy around your age comes over next to you. He squats beside you and takes in your sorry form. “Hey”, he reaches out a hand to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away from him. “I’m Neteyam.”

You sniffle and look him up and down being cautious of the interaction. You recognized him finally as the Olo’eyktan’s son. “Can I ask why you are crying?”

Why did he care? He didn’t know you.

“Some kids were making fun of me for being short.” It was a regular occurrence. You stood almost a whole foot smaller than what was average for your age and you never heard the end of it. Kids were cruel. But you had never spoken with Neteyam. If you were being honest, you were just waiting for this whole interaction to go south.

“Well, that sounds stupid.” He says knitting his brows together in confusion.

You focus your gaze ahead and sink into yourself. “It doesn’t matter. It happens every day.”

“Well, next time, just come find me and I’ll make them stop. I’m a warrior after all.” He puffs out his chest and holds his head high grinning down at you. He was beaming with confidence. The complete opposite of you.

You wipe away your tears and look at him in wonder. Nobody had ever offered to take care of you before.

“Hey, you stopped crying! Here.” He fiddles with some of the items around his waist and pulls out a woven piece of cloth. He scoots closer to you and you don’t shy away from him this time. Neteyam holds your shoulder to steady you while he uses the cloth to clean your face.

He’s a little sloppy and rough, but you’re thankful for the gesture all the same.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to shoot an arrow.” Before you can protest, he already has a hold on your wrist and is pulling you along.

This feeling was something totally new to you. No one had ever treated you so kindly before. Especially not another kid. He took care of you. He was nice to you. He didn’t tease you even though his frame towered over yours. Instead, he opted to use his stature to protect you. And he did just that.

Before long, you and Neteyam were joined at the hip. It was like he was your shadow. Kids tried picking on you again, but Neteyam was always there to fend them off and nobody dared to mess with him. Soon, they left you alone too. He quickly became your favorite person. Your safety.

With you two being so close, Neteyam’s parents would often joke about you both mating when you got older.

“What happens when you mate with someone?” You innocently blink up at Neteyam’s father. Neteyam cocked his head to the side wondering too and waiting for an answer.

His dad was clearly flustered and attempted to come up with a suitable answer. “W-well, when you mate with somebody, you love them so much that you promise to be together for the rest of your lives.”

Your ears perk up and a big smile crosses your face “Oh! Well, then I definitely wanna mate with Neteyam!” your small tail swishing excitedly behind you. Your tail often gave away however you were feeling. You look over at Neteyam and his smile mirrors yours. “Let’s promise to be mates when we’re older!”

Neytiri smiles warmly from across the room finding your relationship endearing.

“Promise.” Neteyam smiles at you.

Everything was much simpler then. You were just children. Children with big dreams. And over time, you got bigger and your feelings grew with you. You always had a deep admiration for Neteyam since you first met him. He was strong and confident and loyal and charming. You always wanted to be at his side. He radiated a joy that was infectious. You were never unhappy with him. Even on your worst days, he always managed to brighten your mood. And as you got older, you felt the stirrings of something deeper. The connection you shared was undeniable, but this was something different from what you were used to. It was like it was the beginnings of love blooming in your chest.

When he talked, his voice felt like velvet against your ears. And when he touched you, it made your breath hitch in your throat. And his smile…Eywa, that smile, you just wanted to melt.

But, of course, you could never tell him this. There was no way you were going to risk your friendship over this. If he didn’t feel the same way? If you couldn’t be at his side anymore? Your whole world would crumble and you could not bear that. So you choose to pine after him in secret and stay by his side as his person. You would even go help Mo’at in her tent with Kiri so that you could help patch Neteyam up after missions when he would get hurt.

You would both still say that you were going to be mates when you grew up, but you knew the chances of that actually happening was slim. He would likely find a pretty girl to love him and bear his children and lead the clan with him. The thought of it made your heart ache, but this was the way things were and you had to accept it.

Everything went out the window when the sky people returned. The Sullys were leaving. Neteyam was leaving. Your person, your love, the one you had promised yourself to. Your heart shattered.

This can’t be real. It can’t be. It’s too cruel.

You spiraled down further and further into a darker place in your heart. You couldn’t find the strength to drag yourself out of your hammock half the days. There was no appetite to be found and smiling was nothing but a distant memory now. The only time you emerged from your home was to carry yourself to the spot in the forest where you first met Neteyam so that you could cry your heart out in peace. Today was no different. Your feet carried you through the dense forest, retracing the same path you took day in and day out. This time, Neteyam beat you there.

You slowly approach him and, to your surprise, it looks like he came for the same reason as you. His face was covered in tears when he looked up at you and your expression was the exact same. You both sat in silence with each other for what felt like hours. Neither of you knew what else there was to say. Both so fragile that words could shatter what sliver of control was holding you together right now. But you couldn’t stand it if your last day together was spent in silence. There was still so much you wanted to say to him and things you wanted to experience with him.

“It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” your soft voice croaked out.

Neteyam could only nod, afraid of what sound may leave his lips if he tries to speak.

Your hand creeps over to cover his making him finally look you in the eye. “I’m gonna miss you.” You try to muster a smile, but your lips falter and tears flood your eyes again. He could feel your sorrow. And suddenly, you looked just like that sad little girl again that he found in the woods all those years ago. It was like torture.

His hand comes up to find your face and stroke your cheek. You relish in the feeling for as long as you can. You try to memorize every detail of this moment. As heart-wrenching as it was, it was still so beautiful. He was so beautiful. “Promise you won’t forget me?” you try to lighten the mood feeling the increasing weight on your chest.

“Oh, ma girl, there is no way I could ever” he presses his forehead against yours and you two share a breath, “I will always be yours.”

His words bring you a small comfort, but not enough to crowd out the pain. His arm comes around your waist to scoot you in closer to him. Your bodies press together and you rest your head on his shoulder. Holding each other, you both let your tears free flow, feeling that same familiar safety with each other one last time.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t notice when Neteyam cups your face and makes you look at him. The eye contact is intense. Millions of unspoken feelings behind it. He slowly leans in and closes the gap between you capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your first kiss. It’s timid and sweet, but it makes you feel like fire. His lips are warm and inviting. It’s everything you’ve always dreamed of and it’s on a day that you wished never had to be. A cruel irony. Your first kiss on your last day together.

When he pulls away, he gazes at you with all the love of the last 8 years you’ve spent together. “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can. Once it’s safe, I’ll come for you.”

You give him a sad smile, but nod your head. You know Neteyam always keeps his word when it comes to you so this time should be no different. If he says he’ll come back for you, then he will.

…

Everyone gathered early the next day to see the Sully family off. Jake passed the title of Olo’eyktan to Tarsem. He was well-liked and respected by the clan. He would be a good leader. But you still couldn’t help the ache you felt. The family made their way through the crowd to head towards their ikrans. As he walked past you, Neteyam’s eyes met yours for the last time and he held his gaze on you for as long as he could. You offer him a small wave seeing him disappear off into the crowd. And you feel a piece of yourself disappear with him.

‘He’ll be back. He will be.’

The following days seemed to all blur together. Nothing was the same. The sun didn’t seem to shine as bright and the air was harder to breathe. It was like a never-ending nightmare having to learn how to be without Neteyam again. Life before him didn’t feel real anymore. A long-forgotten, miserable existence. This was the smallest you’ve ever felt. You never thought you’d be back in that place again. Never thought you’d be without him again. And yet, here you were. You still drew breath and your heart still beat and the world around you continued to go on.

Your parents concern for you grew in the passing weeks. The change in you was clear enough to see from the other side of the planet. They would bring you food and water that you could only manage a few bites of at any given time. They prayed to Eywa to heal your broken heart, but it seemed that it was of no use.

The weeks dragged on into months and the months into years. Before you knew it, it had been 2 years since he left. The pain never got any lighter, but you grew better at handling it. At times when you felt your grief would overcome you, you would remind yourself that he was coming back. He was. People would look at you full of pity whenever you mentioned Neteyam coming back. Believing you were just desperately clinging to a childhood fantasy. The people pitied you and so did your parents. They knew how attached you were to Neteyam, but they were worried about your refusal to accept life without him.

It was going to be time for you to start thinking about finding a mate soon. Whenever your parents would bring up the subject, you would hear nothing of it. You had already chosen your mate and he had chosen you. You just had to have patience. Denying any suitor that came your way, your parents’ concern grew with each passing year. They feared for your future. They didn’t want you to spend the rest of your days waiting for someone that wasn’t coming back.

They would try and try and try to convince you to give other men a chance. Even going so far as to try and set you up with sons of their friends. It was of no use, none of them compared to Neteyam in your eyes.

Soon, 2 more years had passed. You were now 19 and still without a mate. As far as the people were concerned, you were in your prime. This is the time where everyone is starting to choose their mate. And you were still unwilling to take anyone else. That didn’t stop your parents, though. The other day, they sat you down to inform you that they had taken it upon themselves to arrange a mate for you. Since you had refused to take a mate on your own, they picked someone for you. His name is Ralu. He’s tall and mild mannered and a good hunter. He wasn’t a bad choice. He just wasn’t Neteyam.

You did your best to hold your composure when they introduced you. He smiled when he greeted you and was polite to your parents. It made you feel bad. He seemed nice and you wanted to want this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forget who your heart actually yearned for.

You found yourself back at your usual spot in the woods. The spot where it all began. Every now and then, you would half expect to see Neteyam sitting there carving or sharpening his knife. It was like your heart would forget for just a moment. But when you came into the clearing and saw the empty spot, you would remember. And the remembering was a whole new injury to your already battered heart.

Lying in the grass, you stare up at the sky and watch the ikrans fly overhead. The trees swayed and the wildlife chirped around you. It was like every sensation scrubbed your mind clear of your messy thoughts. Would you really have to live the rest of your days like this? With a man that was wonderful in every respect, but you didn’t love? Your parents had already promised you to him. You awoke every day wondering if it would be today. The day that Neteyam promised you would come. When he would finally come and you could be together again. You willed it with every fiber of your being. A sound abruptly snaps you out of your daze. The sound of horns in the distance and cheering. What was all the commotion?

You follow the sound of the crowd and you can sense the intensity through the lush of the forest. It grows with every step closer. You finally catch up to the gathering crowd and do your best to push through all the taller bodies to get a clear view of what was going on. Cheers and murmurs of ‘toruk makto’ ring through the crowd. Toruk makto? Jake? It couldn’t be.

Ikrans land at the front of the growing crowd and you feel your stomach jump up into your throat. It was the Sully family.

Cheers erupt through the crowd as the family lands and you weave through everyone to make it to the front. They’re back. That means that he’s back. He came back for you just like he said he would. You stumble through, but it doesn’t slow your pace.

You break out of the crowd to the front and watch as the family dismounts their ikrans. They’re all visibly older. Your eyes roll over each one of them looking for him. Your eyes meet Kiri’s and she smiles at you. As much as she wants to run and hug you, she knows who you’re really looking for. She places her hand on the shoulder of the much taller boy next to her and he turns around. It’s Neteyam. He looks in your direction and it feels like your chest is going to burst open at this very moment. His eyes soften and light up at the sight of you. You both may have gotten older and changed, but there’s no mistaking that smile. You’d know it anywhere. It’s the one thing that’s made you genuinely smile in years.

He takes off running full speed towards you. He scoops you up and twirls you around in a tight embrace. You hold onto him like he’s still not real. You don’t want to let go out of fear that he’ll disappear again if you do.

He sets you down on your feet and looks at you with tears welling in his eyes. Your eyes start to sting with all the emotion of the last 4 lonely years.

“You came back.”

“I told you I would.”

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Hiiii 😄

Never really requested anything before, But I just read your "danger" post it was soooo fking good !

I was wonder if you could do the same concept but the *reader* gets help from the whole 141 group maybe in a more dangerous situation? However you feel like writing it! Hope that makes sense

Thanks ! 🤍

ᴅоп’т ѕʟеер

Task Force 141 + gn! Reader

First of all, I‘m so sorry that this ask took so long:(

But here it is ❤️❤️

and…AHHHHHHHHH thank you so much💘💘💘 I hope you enjoy this one xoxo 🫶🏻🫶🏻 LOVE YOUUUU!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, Blood, Near death scene

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Don’t. Fall. Asleep.

Don’t. Fall. Asleep.

Don’t Sleep.

Even if you didn’t sleep for the last 37 hours. Don’t. Fucking. Fall. Asleep.

You don’t know where you are. Nor do you know what happened. Everything happened so fast. And the last thing you remember is Price yelling orders through the comms. But somehow you never knew what he was saying.

The only thing you know is that if you fall asleep now, you’re dead. You’re in a basement, god knows where this basement is. Laying on the floor with chains swallowing your feet and hands. Your clothes are ripped and there is barley anything covering your body. And oh god… you’re lucky you can’t see your body. You wouldn’t like the amount of bruises and dried blood covering your body. And let’s not forget your face. Your whole hair is covered with blood and your nose is definitely broken. You can barely open your left eye which makes it difficult for you to consume your surroundings any further.

You wish you were dead already so you wouldn’t have to keep living through this. All they want from you is top secret information and they do everything… literally everything to get this information out of you.

Waterboarding? you still stood silent.

Pushing a knife in your leg? You still stood silent.

Pulling a bag over your head? You still stood silent.

And the list continues.

Now you’re barely moving and breathing but you’re still silent. You even gave up the hope for the task force boys to find and rescue you out of this hell. But if they didn’t rescue you in those 37 hours… they for sure won’t do it know. It would only put their life at risk and it wouldn’t be worth it, or so you thought.

"You fucking -" the man dressed in a white tank top (with your blood on it) and joggers was literally was losing his mind because whatever they did to you, you didn’t say a word. Not a single word came out of your mouth and this fact was driving him crazy. "You fucking talk now or I‘ll send you straight to afterlife." he says with a serious tone and the aggressiveness in his voice makes you let out a little chuckle but it hurts so bad, you stopped. But he sadly saw your lips twitching and the silent chuckle which makes his blood boil.

"You think I‘m joking eh?" he steps away for a quick moment and puts his hands on his head. He lets out a maniac laugh which doesn’t scare you at this point anymore. Suddenly he turns around and kicks you in your stomach which causes you to scream in pain.

After a few hits the man standing in the back pulls him away and whispers something in his eat but it was difficult for you to hear it. The ringing in your ears are too loud and you start feeling dizziness taking over your whole body.

The worst part isn’t the dying part. It’s the fact nobody will properly ever find your body. And the fact you’re gonna die alone. Which has been always your fear.

And you fear that you’re going to face those fears.

You close your eyes for a second and exactly in that moment you hear the door burst open. You heat gunshots and you think it’s just the boss coming in and torturing you again.

But after the sound of gunshots finally comes to an end, you slightly open your eyes and see Kyle.. looking down at you with worry written in his eyes.

Kyle and you have always been closer than anyone else. You guys were best friends in high school and decided to join the military together. He was always your back while you were his shield.

He says something but you can’t make out what he says. You only see Johnny solving the chains around your wrists and free you from all of those.

Without a second hesitation, Kyle picks you up while Simon, Johnny and Price are around you, defending you from any further danger.

You let your head rest on Kyle‘s shoulder and close your eyes while they carry you down the street, straight into the helicopter.

You know you’re safe now. And that’s why you close your eyes. They rescued you from facing death alone. And they sure are going to pull you out of the grave.

You close your eyes and hope you wake up tomorrow. At least you were rescued

[mochie85]

Man of The Month Part 4: April

Series Masterlist My Masterlist @muddyorbsblr Masterlist

Summary: It's Shaun's turn in front of the camera and he has a few tricks up his sleeve or lack thereof to impress you. Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually) Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Fluff

The next day brought on a new kind of worry. Tony’s words rang in your ears, “The gun show starts with Ten Rings.”

Shang-chi, or Shaun as he asked you to call him, was gorgeous. He had the body of a well-toned athlete and the dry humor of a charming late-night talk show host. All of which would endear anyone to him.

And that’s exactly how you saw him, endearing. But did you see him as anything more? You hadn’t really thought about it.

He was very popular with the ladies. The tower was surrounded with fans for most of the guys and there would be a sprinkling of Shaun’s fans scattered within them.

The interactions you had with him were very few. You haven’t even been on a mission together. You’ve only hung out at the tower or at karaoke nights when Sam and Thor corral the rest of the team for some drunken foolery.

“So over here?” Shaun asked, bringing you back to reality.

“Ya, wherever you want.” You waved at the room as you prepared your camera. “Go wherever you feel comfortable.”

Shaun walked around your studio, trying to get a feel of where he could impress you the most. He saw some workout equipment and wondered if you would be impressed by that. He looked over to you slyly, seeing if you were watching him as he artfully took off his shirt when your eyes met.

You blushed and forced yourself not to turn away. You’ve seen these guys with their shirts off, walking around at the gym, working out. But there was something intimate about the way your eyes met when Shaun took off his shirt.

Get a grip! You’re gonna have to shoot some of the guys in less clothing. Better get used to it now.

He picked up some dumbbells and proceeded to lift them into bicep curls. You looked through the eyepiece in your camera and lined up some shots. You took a few more with him using different equipment but nothing was screaming out at you. It didn’t feel natural.

Shaun felt a little crestfallen at your lack of reaction and obvious dismay. I should’ve known it wouldn’t impress her. She works out with us every day. I need to show her something different.

He didn’t let that bother him though. Instead, he chose to stay positive and see what else he can do to impress you. So, he looked around the studio trying to see what else he might astound you with.

That’s when Shaun saw the small kitchen you had in your studio. “Is this part of your set-up?”

“Hmm? Oh no, it’s just my break area,” you said playing with the light ring. “Tony had it modularly installed so that he can keep me in here non-stop like a workhorse for this calendar.” Shaun gave you a bewildered look. “I’m joking,” you laughed. “Sorta…Tony ends up getting me delivery most days to try and stay on my good side.”

“Well, have you eaten at all today?” He asked.

“I had half a muffin earlier and two Tic Tacs.”

“That’s not a meal. That’s not even a full pastry and breath mints? Let me cook you something,” he said as he walked over to the fridge and opened it.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing in the fridge.” You said watching him as he pulled out a bottle of vintage Dom Perignon.

“Nothing in the fridge? Girl this must be hundreds if not thousands of dollars!” he exclaimed holding up the bottle.

“Tony must’ve put it in there. I don’t remember ever opening that fridge.” You laughed.

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” Shaun left the studio to go upstairs toward the communal kitchen. No one was around except for Loki, who was sitting on the living room couch reading.

Loki looked up upon hearing your door open. He was dismayed to see a half-naked man exiting your studio. Shaun waved his greeting as he headed straight to the fridge. Loki narrowed his eyes and nodded his greeting in return.

Loki watched as he pulled out a carton of eggs, amongst other groceries, and balanced them all in his arms. The last thing Shaun took was a can of whip cream, but only after looking at it decidedly longer than he should have. Making Loki uncomfortable at what he might be planning with you.

Shaun came back into the studio, arms filled with enough food to feed a small family.

“What uh- what are ya making there?” You asked as he set all the food down. He brought down eggs, cheese, and pancake mix in a bowl. From his back pocket, he pulled out a can of whip cream that he placed on the counter.

He turned to look around the kitchen for something. You used this unguarded moment to take a couple more snapshots with the remote control you had in your hand. He found an apron hung by the side of the fridge and proceeded to put it on.

You watched as he filled two champagne flutes with orange juice. After the loud pop of the champagne bottle, he continued to fill the rest of the glass.

“For today’s menu, my two specialties are omelets and pancakes,” he smiled as he handed you your mimosa. “What would the lady like this morning?” He laid a towel over his arm and bowed to you, eliciting a smile from your lips that had him take a quick breath.

“Ooh…a man that can cook. Ok, how ‘bout an omelet?”

“What would you like in it? I brought a bunch of stuff from upstairs to make it with.”

“Simple cheese would be fine. Don’t strain yourself over me,” you said blushing as you fidgeted with the remote in your hand.

“You’re no bother at all! I love to cook. I hope I get to do it with you more often,” he said laden with promises of the future. You watched Shaun work his way around the kitchen. He threw an egg in the air and cracked it with the side of the spatula. A proud grin on his face when he saw your eyes widen with surprise.

“Ooh, and he’s got tricks.” You laughed.

“That’s nothing. Watch this.” He took an egg and placed it in the crook of his elbow. He raised his eyebrows as he proceeded to curl his bicep and crack the egg open, the yolk and albumen spilling into the bowl. You stared at him in disbelief. “Don’t worry, I washed my arm.” And then you lost it. You laughed so hard at his charm and quirky sense of humor.

“How did you do that?”

“It’s not hard. I think you have the muscle for it. Here try it.” Shaun grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to you as he placed an egg at the bend of your arm. His thumb grazed against your elbow as he held it. “Now flex,” he whispered. “Like you’re Thor showing off to his fangirls downstairs.”

You giggled at the silliness of it all, and you had to admit, that you were having fun. Shaun’s playful nature always made you laugh, making you feel carefree. You bit on your lip as you tried to focus on cracking the egg but instead were distracted by Shaun’s own body so close to you. You watched his graceful hands move as he flipped the pan, making a perfect half-crescent omelet. He went out of his way to make you something. And that immediately warmed your heart.

You flexed hard and tried multiple times, but the egg wouldn’t crack. The egg dropped to the floor and Shaun was quick to provide you with a new one. You laughed every time you failed. Each egg kept dropping to the floor and the two of you were making a mess everywhere.

Outside, Loki had ventured closer to your studio door. He could hear the melodic tones of your laughter as the two of you spent time together. His overactive mind giving him vivid scenarios of you laughing while Xu uses the can of whip cream he brought down. Was Shaun the one you’d been harboring feelings for? The revelation struck him blind. In all sincerity, he thought he would only have to contend with the soldiers. But the looks all around the table at that meeting a couple of days ago said otherwise.

Loki ran his hands over his face when a sudden crash went off inside your studio and he heard you scream a surprise. Worried, Loki quickly ran over to see if you needed help.

“Scopes?” Loki yelled out. The giant studio seemed empty until he heard the sweet call of your laughter coming from your kitchen.

Loki’s eyes widened at the scene he saw unfolding in front of him. You were in Shaun’s arms. The two of you covered head to toe in flour. Laughing and giggling as if you had just done something so mischievous.

“Ahem.” Loki cleared his throat out loud. You turned to face him. Your red blush showing through the white flour covering your cheeks. Shaun stood you upright and then tried to dust the pancake mix off his face.

“Loki!” you cried and pushed yourself away from Shaun’s embrace.

“I was passing by, and it sounded like you needed help outside. I wanted to make sure you were all right. But I see now that you are in...very capable hands.” Loki growled.

“I-uh, we were just…” your mind scrambled to come up with a reason as to why you were in Shaun’s arms. You didn’t think that Loki would care but you didn’t want rumors going around about something that wasn’t true. “Shaun was teaching me how to crack an egg and I slipped on the ones that fell on the floor. Luckily, he caught me, but not before I grabbed the bowl of pancake mix and launched it up into the air.”

“I see. You don’t need to explain anything to me, Scopes. I just wanted to make sure you were not in danger.” Loki said coolly.

“Thank you,” you said gently as you looked into each other’s eyes. His statement cracked your heart. Of course, he wouldn’t care. Why would Loki get jealous if you were in another man’s arms?

Shaun paused, watching the interaction between the two of you. Especially yours. A small smile played on his lips as he put all the pieces together.

Shaun bristled as Loki gave him one last stare and left the studio. Oh, no. That’s not good. Did I just get cursed by a god?

“Ah-why don’t you eat, while I clean this up.” Shaun offered.

“I can help.”

“No. No. I insist. I made this for you. You should enjoy it while it’s hot.”

“Thank you.” You said as you tucked in to your delicious cheese omelet. “It’s lovely.”

“So…” Shaun tried. “You and Loki, huh?” he said raising his eyebrow.

You choked on the morsel that was in your mouth at his statement. He patted you on the back, handing you your glass of mimosa. “I, uh…”

“Don’t deny it, Scopes. I saw how red you turned when he walked into the room.”

“Ok. I won’t! But you can’t tell anybody.”

“Why not? Just go for it. YOLO, my friend.”

“Ya and that life would end as soon as he laughs in my face and rejects me,” you mumbled as you took another sip of your glass. Shaun vaguely remembers the meeting they all had about this calendar. Apart from Tony, Clint, Rhodey, and Bruce, he was pretty sure that everyone else in that room had the hots for you.

“I don’t think…”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone!” You demanded.

“Okay, okay I promise.” He relented. “But-” he quickly turned his expression giving way to a devious smile on his face. “-you’ll have to do something for me.”

“Oh God, what is it?” you groaned.

“You have to do three duets with me next karaoke night,” he said holding up three fingers.

“What!”

“Take it or leave it, Scopes.”

“One song.”

“Two songs!”

“Fine. Two songs. Both my choice.” You fumed.

“Deal!”

“Deal.” You both shook hands. “Now clean this up while I finish this delicious breakfast.” You commanded.

“Yes, ma’am.” He laughed as he reached for the paper towels.

In the end, Shaun chose one of the candid shots you took of him as he was searching for the apron. “You make me look good.” He said staring at your computer.

“You already look good. I just took the picture.” You remarked.

Having spent most of the day cleaning and cooking, Shaun left you to finish working on his page as he went upstairs. He was surprised to find everybody there.

Loki gave him a look of annoyance as his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. “Well, it’s not me guys,” Shaun exclaimed to everyone in the group, shaking his hair of excess flour.

There was a visible sigh of relief from some of the other men who haven’t had their turn yet. Most notably from the god of mischief himself.

“Oh, let’s not all get too sad about it,” Shaun said sarcastically.

“My condolences, Mister Xu.” Vision said as he held Wanda’s hand. “I know you were looking forward to today.”

“That’s all right. I got a good singing partner out of it.”

@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @cakesandtom @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @glitterylokislut @goldencherriess @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kikster606 @kkdvkyya @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @lokyxryss @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @sarahscribbles @sarawr-reads @silverfire475 @springdandelixn @theaudacitytowrite @thedistractedagglomeration @thomase1 @user13cabs @vickie5446 @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

[sweetlyskz]

For Better or For Worse

Chapter Four: Lonely

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Overview: you weren’t thrilled to be moving in with bangtan but you learned to come to terms with it. Your father however did not. When truths come to light and secrets are revealed, will you switch sides or simply exclude yourself from the situation altogether?

Genre: Mafia Au, Strangers to lovers, yandere Au

Prev||Next

Masterlist

Everyone had left for work, leaving you in this half empty mansion all by yourself. Well- they left a couple of guards around the house but they're for protection, not company.

Ever since Taehyung painted with you in the backyard, you've had a little more courage getting out of bed. You had a little more hope that things would turn around, that things would get better. But there is one thing that bothers you.

No one is ever home.

You thought living with seven guys would be terrible, that part is true, but another part of you thought that living with them would keep you from going insane. They went through all this trouble to get you, and now that you're here none of them will spend time with you. Even Tae has been distant after painting together.

This house was way too big for just one person to be in it all the time. Even with all of the guards around it still feels empty, lonely. There's a whole other side of this house you haven't even seen yet. What's over there? you wonder.

Walking through the hallway of the other side of the house made you feel nervous, like you weren't supposed to be there. But the mysteriousness of it all was calling you, begging you. You turned a corner, face to face with a door, painted black with a do not enter sticker on it. It was speaking to you. Come closer, grab the door knob, please. This door was made just for you. So you followed the doors orders.

But the door was locked. Oh well, you thought. Maybe it was a sign to go back to your room, curl up in a ball, and wallow in your self-pity.

“What are you doing over here?” You heard a loud voice question from down the hall. “The bosses gave strict orders for you to stay on the left side of the mansion. Let's go.

You rolled your eyes. “So, what you are saying is that you’re a worthless prick who does whatever any man tells him to. Got it.”

After that stunt, best believe you went to your room in haste.

All of the secrets, all of the lies. It’s not fair. They know everything about you and you know nothing about them. At least your father was transparent. He didn’t keep secrets (for the most part). There was no hiding guns, private meetings, or secret business agreements back home.

Home. You miss that. Having a place to call home, somewhere to feel safe and comfortable. They had each other. They seem happy together, so why do they need you? To gain leverage on your father? To take Seoul territory for themselves? The darkness started to mess with your head. They don’t need you. They don’t and neither does your father. If you were out of the picture, so much would be better.

A couple knocks to your bedroom door had snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come in!”

The guard from the other side of the house walked in. Immediately, you backed up and pulled the knife from your end table. He put his hands up in defense.

“I’m not here to hurt you ma'am”, He announced. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. Please don’t tell my bosses.”

“Tell them what exactly? That I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to and a guard put me back in my place?” You raised your eyebrows, putting the knife back down on your nightstand. “Don’t worry. I’m taking that one to the grave.”

He smiled. “Thank you. Don’t take this the wrong way but I thought you were gonna be–”

“Mean, heartless, and cruel?”

“Something like that”, he laughed. “You’re more… down to earth, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess four years of college will do that to you”, you blushed. His smile turned into what looked like shock.

“Your family allowed you to go to college? That’s a new one”, He joked.

You frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?” He threw his hands up in defense again.

“N-nothing I j-just meant that with you being the heir to one of the most prominent gang leaders in Korea… I mean if i had a daughter in that situation I would keep her close… maam.”

You giggle, smiling appearing back on his face easing the guards worries. “It’s Yn… What’s your name? I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

“Christopher, but just call me chris.”

“Okay, Chris…” he laughed, and you don’t know why, but butterflies swarmed your stomach. “You can return to your duties, your bosses will be back any minute.”

He nodded head towards your bedroom door, hand on the door knob.

“Thank you”, you blurted before he left. He turned his head.

“For what?” He asked.

“For making me feel less alone.”

UPDATED***

@ratherbefangirling @forpunishers @amara-mars @idk179634 @emu007 @m1sss1mp @mageprincess7 @fluffy-canada-pancakes @inlovewithallmusic @bratbxbyx @kaiwaialiki1210 @queen-in-the-shadows @exfolitae @scuzmunkie

The ones in pink i can’t tag

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

inspired by the huge cut at the top of my thigh i just gave myself whilst shaving in the shower here’s the danny thought that’s been plaguing me ever since

say you’re best friends with danny but there’s always been some tension there and god the rest of your friends are just waiting for the two of you to open your eyes and get together

and he’s over at your apartment waiting for you to finish in the shower when he hears you calling his name in somewhat mild distress

but he still jumps up and he’s running to the bathroom door

‘what’s wrong?’

‘my leg is bleeding. i don’t have any band aids left in here, can you check in the kitchen?’

and he’s back in a second, band aid in tow as he slowly knocks on the door and asks softly

‘can i come in?’

and the turn of the lock matches the thump in his chest when he sees you surrounded by the post shower haze, steam coating the mirror and droplets from your wet hair grazing the t shirt you’ve slipped over your form and oh god now he’s looking at your bare legs and he’s cursing himself because you’re clutching tissue to the spot near the top of your thigh that’s oozing blood and he’s reprimanding himself for not being able to just get a grip she’s in pain she just needs the band aid

‘found one. the extra special kind too, covered in little robots.’

and you’re grinning at him as you move to dab more blood away from the cut, not noticing danny’s breath hitch in his throat as your shirt moves along with your movement and reveals a slither of your underwear before he decides there’s a moment where you’ve never been so vulnerable to him, and if he can’t be vulnerable too then he’s going to keep wondering if he could ever let you know how he feels

so clutching the robot covered band aid he decides there and then he’s going to do something about it and he’s crossing the bathroom over to you before kneeling down and hovering his hand over the blood covered tissue

‘may i?’

and you’re pretty sure he’d be able to hear your heart pounding through your chest and the feeling throbbing straight through you as he kneels almost eye level to where you dreamed too many times about him being, and you’re almost chuckling about the irony of being in the shower with danny on his knees for you because you never pictured it to be this way

but the million miles of thoughts in your head slows into one small nod and a faint blush on your cheeks, watching as he takes the tissue from you delicately wipes any trails of blood, one hand coming to rest on your hip as he does so

‘i’m afraid it’s bad news.’

and you’re lost in the daydream of danny so his words slightly alarm you, until he looks up at you through his eyelashes with a smirk

‘amputation is the only option. have you ever thought about living with one leg?’

and you’re laughing at his stupid joke, dropping a hand to his shoulder in a gentle push before swooping some of his curls over the same shoulder

‘luckily i know a guy who could carry me everywhere. i think i’ll be okay.’

and then he’s laughing, and he’s gently smoothing the band aid across your thigh before he leans in ever so slightly to inspect his handiwork and you know the mood has shifted because all of a sudden his eyes are dark and you swallow thickly, only praying he can’t sense the arousal that’s pooling between your legs where he kneels

‘do you need me to kiss it better?’

‘yes.’

and it’s only a whisper, and you both know the implication and you have to hold back the ungodly moan that almost leaves your throat as he presses his soft lips over the band aid, so close yet so far away from where you want him the most

‘better?’

he whispers back as he looks up to you, before going back to pepper soft kisses across the top of your thigh closer to the center

and you don’t know where the courage comes from, but you’re so sure and he is too that you manage to tell him

‘you missed.’

and then his nose grazes across your covered core, and you can’t keep in the soft moan that tumbles from your lips

‘yeah? then show me exactly where you need me.’

I just-

Yeah this is fuckin unfair

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name- Chapter 1

Visit the Series page here.

A/N: She's here! On Tumblr! The AU that brought me back to fan fic 🥰 I am going to post one chapter a day until it's all over here. I originally posted this on mibba, but Tumblr has been kind to me and I want to share these two with you! Note, I did change Alex's kids names because it felt like the right thing to do. K, enjoy!

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: swearing.

“Alex Stalock!” I screech at my older brother as he tries to grab the mini stick out of my hands. “Your son needs to learn how to lose.” I insist, reaching out my hand for him to give it back to me.

“Sam, he’s 5. Let the kid get at least one shot in.” Alex laughs, giving me a light shove.

Alex and I are playing mini sticks with his oldest child, Sawyer, in the living room of my brother’s sprawling home in the outer suburbs of St. Paul, Minnesota. I’m determined to score on him just like I was when we were kids playing in our parents unfinished basement, 10 minutes from where we are now. Alex is my youngest, older brother and currently plays for the Minnesota Wild as a goalie.

“What time is Kevin going to be here?” Felicia, Alex’s wife of almost ten years, asks after taking a sip of her red wine. They were high school sweethearts and she’s been a part of our family for as long as I can remember.

“6:30.” Alex answers as he sets himself up in the net again.

“Who is Kevin?” I wonder as I reach for the ball on Sawyer’s stick in a lame attempt to take it from him.

“New guy. Just got traded here from Nashville.” Alex says as he exaggerates a dive. Sawyer shoots and the white ball sails into the netting. He lifts his stick and cheers, pumping his fists in the air and yelling.

“Daddy, I’m Eric!” He exclaims, mimicking Eric Staal who is known for his excited, goal scoring celebrations on the team.

“You’re definitely quieter than that guy.” Alex snorts. “Kevin is your age.” Alex finishes to me, grabbing a sip of water from his glass on the coffee table.

I’m the youngest of my two siblings, but I’m actually considerably younger than both my brothers. Nick, the oldest, is 12 years older than me while Alex is 9 years older. It goes without saying, but yes, I was a complete surprise to my parents, who thought they were done after having two boys. My older brothers were smitten with me from day one, but Alex and I have always been the closest. He taught me how to skate, tie my shoes and throw a punch. Mom wasn’t too thrilled about the last one. The teenage years were a struggle, especially considering Alex liked to scare all the hockey boys away from me in high school. Overall though, we have been thick as thieves and rarely notice the age difference.

“Honey, can you help me put the salad together? Serena needs me to help her go potty.” Felicia reaches for their daughter and scoops her up into her arms. Serena is the youngest of the two kids, turning three in a few short months.

“Yep!” Alex agrees, swiftly leaving our game.

“Alright, little man. You’re toast now that dad’s gone.” I grin mischievously at Sawyer.

“Doubt it.” Sawyer replies. I laugh loudly and glance at Alex who gives me a wicked grin.

“That’s my boy. Get her.”

Sawyer and I duke it out while dinner is being prepared. He allows a couple soft goals and I let in a few just to keep the fun going. He’s winning by two goals when the doorbell chimes throughout the house.

“Got it!” Alex yells from the kitchen, jogging out to the front door. “Hey man!” I hear Alex greet our guest. “Come on in.”

I stare Sawyer down in the net, looking at the gaping hole he left to the right and instead, shooting directly into his stomach. I let out a groan as Sawyer giggles excitedly.

“Nice save bud! Time to be done though. Please go wash up for dinner.” Alex says as he walks back into the living room with Kevin Fiala in toe.

“No! I’m about to beat Auntie.” Sawyer insists.

“Lies,” I shake my head at him, giving him a joking snarl. “Nobody beats me in mini sticks.”

“Well, if you rage slash everyone when you lose, it’s in everyone’s best interest if you win.” Alex grins wildly at me. “Sawyer, that wasn’t me asking. Go.”

“That was one time.” I pout at him. I glance to his left and take in the newest member of the Minnesota Wild. What I see is as good of eye candy as you can get. Strong jaw, deep brown eyes, a smile that invites you in for one drink and the next thing you know you’re screaming his name in pleasure. Yikes. I shake my head, putting on a pleasant smile and forcing my eyes back to my brother.

“Kevin, this is my little sister, Sam. Sam, Kevin.”

“Nice to meet you.” I wave at him, grabbing the sticks and goals to move them out of the way. Kevin walks towards me, grabbing the goals out of my hand.

“I can help.” He offers.

“Oh, thanks.” I say to him, smiling. “They go in the playroom down the hall.” I tell him. We enter the playroom and I step over stuffed animals, cars, and legos to get to the back corner where the knee hockey stuff lives. As he places the goals down, I take an opportunity to look at him. Damn, this guy is gorgeous. Not even in the trying too hard kind of gorgeous; It’s all clearly natural. A combination of his bone structure, 5 o’clock shadow and brown hair flipping out slightly from his hat makes me weak in the knees. He’s wearing dark jeans and a white Adidas sweatshirt that showcases his broad shoulders. He glances at me and when our eyes meet, I can feel my body tingle in response. Our gazes hold for a breath, but it’s enough for my heart to beat faster in response.

“Alex says you live here?” He asks me when our hands are empty.

“Um, yeah. Alex is gone a lot during the season, so I help out with the kids when he is out of town. At first, it was just for long road trips, but it works to always have adults outnumbering the kids.”

“That makes sense.” He nods in response, hands going into his pockets. “So you’re the mini sticks champion in this house?” He tilts his head as he looks at me through shining, bright eyes. I laugh and give my eyes a quick roll.

“Alex likes to talk shit, but yes, I was always the champion growing up between my siblings. Being the only girl has it’s perks sometimes.” I shrug. “As for this house, I’ve been known to let Sawyer win a time or two.”

He leans his head back and genuinely laughs. I bite my lip, taking in the sight of his relaxed posture, his easy smile, and his tongue as it licks over his bottom lip. My stomach dips in response. I swallow hard, looking away from him.

Sam, you’re going into dangerous territory.

“Um, I think Felicia said dinner was almost ready.” I say, considering he is between me and the door. I know we need to move along, otherwise Alex or one of the kids will get curious.

“Sure. Well, maybe some other time you and I can play together. I’d love to challenge you for your title.”

“Oh really? Even after the rage slashing story?”

“What can I say.” He says with a shrug. He turns towards door, but pauses and looks back at me. “I like a girl with some fire in her.” He distinctly looks me up and down, pausing briefly at my lips, then grins like wild and walks out.

Uh oh.

- - -

Dinner is filled with carbs, wine, and plenty of light, Midwestern conversation. Kevin tells us that he is originally from Switzerland, but stays in Sweden during the off season. He played there before he was drafted into the NHL and fell in love with the country. He visits for multiple weeks in Switzerland before and after the season where his family still lives. He was drafted by Nashville in 2014 and had a rough journey through his NHL career so far.

“I appreciate the support I’ve gotten from the Predators over the years, but I can’t say that I’m sad to not be there anymore.” Kevin tells us after taking a drink of water. “Towards the end it became clear that I was never going to find my place in the organization.”

“I get that.” Alex tells him, “I’ve been with three different teams in my career and each one offers a different atmosphere. Some you can thrive in and others seem to hold you back.”

“Yeah, and being a European far from home adds another level of frustration when things aren’t going great.”

“I bet. I feel grateful I can play in the place where I am from and have my family at every game.” Alex nods. As he finishes, Serena lets out a large yawn. “Well, kids, it’s about that time.”

“But I’m not tired.” Sawyer tells his dad. He’s been fascinated with Kevin’s stories of his time in the NHL and abroad.

“I’ve seen a few yawns out of you too.” Felicia insisted, “Plus it’s bath night so we need to get moving.”

“If I’m holding you all up, I can head home.” Kevin says, moving to rise from his chair.

“No! Stay as long as you want.” Felicia insists, putting her hands up to stop him. “Al, why don’t you help me with the kiddos and Sam can stay with Kevin.”

“I can clean up.” I tell her. The kids are gathered up by their parents, leaving Kevin and I alone with a table full of leftovers and dishes. “You can just relax. I’ve got this.” I insist as he starts clearing plates.

“The least I can do is help clean up. The food was amazing.”

“Yeah, Felicia is an awesome cook. You’ll have to come back when she makes biscuits and gravy. Although, you should plan a nap into your day right after.” I laugh, grabbing a few glasses and walking over to the sink.

“That sounds like an off-day kind of meal.” He jokes as he hands me the plates. Our fingers brush and electricity slips up my arm and down my spine. Our eyes meet over the plates and I find myself unable to look away.

“Yeah, but it’s well worth the discomfort.” I say to him, trying to not sound as breathless as I feel.

“Some things in life are like that.” He gives me a small smirk before heading back to the table to grab more dishes. I force out a slow breath as I rinse the dishes before putting them into the empty dish washer. I don’t know what it is about him, but there is this undeniable force between us that feels like it’s pulling me to him. We work steadily in comfortable silence, him grabbing dishes and me putting them into the dishwasher. I take great care with each interaction to focus on the dishes in his hand and not let our fingers touch.

“So tell me about you.” He says as I’m putting the last few dishes away. I glance up at him, shrugging.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you’ll give me.” He leans back against the counter, arms crossed, waiting. My skin tingles beneath his gaze and I feel my cheeks grow pink at the awareness of his eyes on me.

“Born and raised here in Minnesota. I’ve never been to Sweden or Switzerland, or even Nashville. My favorite things are hockey, my family, and pasta. Coffee is my drink of choice and ice cream is my weakness.”

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for sweet things like ice cream and pretty women.” He mentions casually. There is a suggestion in his voice and the look on his face. I smile in response, sliding my gaze back to the dishes.

“FiFi, “I say using his nickname from Nashville that he told us about earlier in the evening. “Are you flirting with me in my brother’s kitchen?” I shut the dishwasher door, very aware that was the only barrier between us.

“Well, you having to ask is a bit embarrassing.” He bites his bottom lip and folds his arms tighter across his chest. “But I hope it’s still working.” I hold his gaze and breathe out a laugh.

“Maybe. But I’m not sure this is a good idea.” I say, pressing the start button. The machine clicks to life and I turn to grab containers for the leftovers.

“Ah. I get it. Your boyfriend isn’t interested in sharing?” He moves closer to where I am standing, grabbing a container and filling it with the leftover bread. He snaps the lid shut. As his arms move in this motion, I can feel the heat from his body through my sweatshirt.

“Smooth.” I acknowledge, scooping the pasta into two separate containers. “But, no, I don’t have a boyfriend. Is your girlfriend still in Nashville?” I wonder.

“I’m not the kind of guy who flirts with women when he has a girlfriend.” He says seriously. “So, what’s holding you back? I haven’t been charming enough?” He bats his long lashes jokingly.

“My brother would not be okay with any semblance of us.” I shrug. “Al and I are really close and he pays my bills, so I’m not super interested in messing that up.”

“I get it. I’m close with my sister too.” He tells me. “It’s too bad though. I’ve never met someone I’ve wanted to know every part of before.”

I let that sit in the silence as I walk to the fridge and place the leftovers in there. When I turn, I meet his gaze. There is this look in his eyes that is difficult to place. Wonder? Desire? Need? In normal circumstances, attention like this would be something I would laugh off. Those lines he’s using? Cheesy with a side of fluff. And yet, it’s working. There is something about him that makes me want to know him too. There is this chemistry between us and even though this is my life, it’s hard to believe that we just met for the first time mere hours ago. He feels familiar and comfortable. Someone I could fall right into and never bother getting up from.

Kevin pushes himself from the counter and walks across the kitchen to me with a container of leftover salad. He pauses in front of me, looking down into my face and I feel like I can barely breathe. His brown eyes search my face and whatever he is looking for, he finds because his lips pull apart into an easy smile again.

“Kids are down.” Alex’s voice carries to us. I can’t stop my body from jumping in response. I slide two steps back from Kevin and attempt to keep my face neutral. Judging by my brother’s squinty eyes, I look just as guilty as I feel. “Kev, want to play some chel before you go?”

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind getting your ass kicked though.” Kevin says as he brushes passed me, our arms touching briefly. I blow out the breath I was holding as they disappear to the basement where Alex’s gaming consoles are. I glance to the living room where Felicia is tiding up from the day now that the kids are asleep.

“Be careful with that.” She tells me as she folds the blanket and drapes it on the back of the couch. She gives me a knowing smile and I find myself fidgeting under her gaze. “He does look like fun though.” She winks.

“Yeah, something tells me he wouldn’t be boring.” I giggle, grabbing a can of blackberry Bubly out of the fridge.

“Well, what Alex doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

I help Felicia clean up the rest of the living room before deciding to call it a night. I have to be up early tomorrow to drop Sawyer at pre-school. Serena has a doctor appointment and with Alex leaving town in the morning, she can’t be two places at once. I wander down the stairs which lead into the family room where Alex and Kevin are playing the latest NHL game on Xbox. Kevin groans as Alex scores in the top right hand corner.

“Top titty!” Alex laughs, taking a swig of beer as the game resets for the next face off. Kevin’s eyes meet mine and he give this head a shake.

“Your brother cheats.” He insists

“Cheating does run in the family.” I shrug before continuing on down the hallway, passed the bathroom and into my room. As much as I’d love to linger in the room and watch, I know Alex would be suspicious of my presence.

I choose the basement for my room as it gives us all some privacy from each other. Sometimes, it feels a little weird to be living with my brother’s family. I’ve been with them for two years now, but it didn’t start to feel weird until after I graduated from college. I attended the University of Minnesota, Go Gophers, and earned a B.S. in Business Administration with an emphasis in Leadership. After college, I struggled with knowing exactly what I wanted to do. I loved the interworking of businesses, but the corporate world just doesn’t feel like a fit to me. When Alex asked for me to come nanny for them almost a year ago, it felt like a welcome chance to delay entering the professional world. Now, seeing my peers with their entry level positions, I worry that maybe I’m behind. With everything Alex has given to me, I feel guilty leaving them to pursue just anything.

I walk to my desk and sit at my laptop. I spend a few minutes flipping through various social media sites before I pull up Netflix. As I’m plugging my headphones into my ears, I hear footsteps down the hall, entering the bathroom next to my room. I know it’s either Kevin or Alex. My heart beats harder in my chest hoping it’s the Swiss native. A minute passes before I hear the click of the door. I click open an episode of One Tree Hill to not look like I was waiting for whoever was in there.

“This your room?”Kevin pokes his head into the doorway with a soft knock.

“For now.” I say as I pull my headphones out of my ears.

“I see you like the color purple.” He notes the lavender walls and my dark purple bed spread.

“I do. Our family was big Vikings fans growing up.” I notice the confusion on his face. “Our professional football team.. American Football.”

“Ah.” He nods his head in understanding. “They any good? I went to a few Titans games in Nashville.”

“Mmmm depends on the year.” I tell him honestly. He walks a little further in and looks at the picture I have on my wall next to the door of Alex, Nick, and I at Alex’s first game for the Wild. Kevin smiles at the picture then looks at me.

“Nice room. Maybe I can see more of it sometime.”

“I’m sure you’d like that.” I tell him with a smirk.

“Bed looks comfortable.” He gives me a playful smile that hints at sinister things.

“Oh my god.” I laugh, hiding my pink face. “Don’t you have video games to play? You better get back before Alex really starts to cheat.”

“I probably should.., and yet I’m much more interested in what you’re doing in here.” He shrugs, leaning back against the wall next to the door.

“Pretty boring stuff. Just Netflix without the chill.” I motion for him to exit the door and he laughs, nodding his head.

“Hint taken. Hopefully I’ll see you around.. Sam Stalock.”

“There’s a high chance you will. My brother is your teammate.” I remind him, sticking an ear bud back in. I’m trying to play it cool like I could take him or leave him, but my insides are all squishy at his presence.

“Hey Sam?” Kevin calls to me as I’m about to turn back to my computer.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the fun night. I don’t get to hang out with many people my age when I’m in America. So, it was nice joking around with you. But, I really do hope I’ll see you soon.”

“Me too, FiFi.” I respond. His nickname comes out playfully and I watch as he licks his lips suggestively. He hovers in the doorway for another moment before lifting his hand in a brief wave. I wave back and watch the doorway long after he leaves. I hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of him.

Later that night, after Kevin leaves and I’m winding down for bed, there is a small knock at my bedroom door.

“Come in!” I yell and Alex opens the door slowly.

“Hey, just checking if you need anything before I head out of town tomorrow.” The Wild are gone in Canada for the next five days visiting the Calgary Flames and the Winnipeg Jets. This should give me a few days to cool off and forget about the team’s newest member.

“Just a couple of wins.” I answer him, smiling at my own cheekiness.

“I’ll do my best.” He laughs. “Can you take some video of Sawyer’s practice on Thursday? He wants me to show Suter, so he can get some pointers on his stride. Kid is a hoot.”

“My goodness. What happened to being a goalie?” I laugh. Alex shrugs.

“I think his mom has been the influencer behind that shift. She thinks he should be a defensemen.”

“Well, it is less stress for a hockey mom.”

“Yeah that’s probably true. Sometimes I still think mom is going to have a panic attack when I’m starting.”

“To be fair, you like to rush out to play the puck at the blue line a little too much.”

“Hey, it works.” He insists. “Alright, I’m going to go finish packing.”

“Safe travels, Al.” I tell him, turning to pull my comforter back and slide into my flannel sheets.

“Night, Sam.” Alex begins to pull the door shut but stops and pops his head back in. I look at him expectantly and watch as his face twists into a frown. His blue eyes meet mine and he pushes out a sigh. “Look, there seemed to be something between you and Kevin at dinner tonight. I’d appreciate it if you could avoid getting entangled with him. Kid has potential to be a stud and he’s a good looking dude. But things are going well in the locker room right now and we don’t need any distractions as we head down the playoff stretch.”

“Okay.” I roll my eyes at him, resisting the urge to call him a few choice words. Why do men always think women are distractions?

“Sam.” Alex’s voice has gone low and serious.

“Alex.” I say back, mimicking his voice.

“Stay away from Fiala.” He doesn’t give me an opportunity to respond before he is out the door, leaving me with the sense that this topic isn’t up for further discussion. I stare at the door, his words echoing in my head.

There seemed to be something between you and Kevin at dinner tonight.

A few hours ago, I would have told Alex no problem. But now, I’m not so sure. How do you avoid someone that you inexplicably feel drawn towards? I glance at the picture of Alex, Nick and I from last summer. It was my 21st birthday and we are all wide eyed, cheeky smiles, and a bit sunburnt from spending the day on the boat. I smile softly, remembering. Alex has been my best friend, biggest supporter, and protector since we were kids. My thoughts turn to Kevin and the connection we were both feeling tonight. To find someone that you have instant chemistry with is rare. I know this. But I also love my brother and know I should tread cautiously from here.

I turn off the lamp next to my bed and slide further down into my sheets. I pull the comforter up close to my chin and sigh. No matter what is potentially brewing between Kevin and I, mine and Alex’s relationship is more important. I owe it to him to put aside my other feelings and stand with my brother as the team pushes for the playoffs. This should be no problem. All I need to do is avoid the Swiss native all together. If I don’t see him, I won’t feel any of the connection and can easily honor Alex’s wishes.

Yeah. That is what I’ll do. Avoiding Kevin Fiala should be no problem.

I close my eyes, trying to ignore the sadness that has settled into my chest. Sleep comes easy, but relief from reality doesn’t. Within a few minutes, I’m dreaming of brown eyes and a Swiss accent.

[greenhikingboots]

Do you ever like someone else’s fanfiction so much, it makes you want to borrow the premise and write your own gender flipped version? I feel that way about a lot of ganymede_elegy/@cellsshapedlikestars’s fics. Here’s a little thing I jotted down after reading a fairytale ending. I’m not sure when, if ever, I’ll get around to continuing it. But, here, let me share it with you so its lack of ending can torture you the way it tortures me. 😘

The digital flyer was sent as a text, no further explanation included. Jon’s eyes flickered over the drawing — a woman with dark red hair and big blue eyes — then down to the cursive words below it. They spelled out a plea. It seemed the real life version of this woman was looking for a wedding date who was willing to pretend to be her boyfriend. Some PDA required, the flyer said. Specifics to be negotiated ahead of time. And then came the list of warnings. - The groom is my ex-boyfriend and his mother is the actual devil. - Other guests will include my crazy aunt and her creepy boyfriend. - It’s a destination wedding, so expect a 4-5 day time commitment. The very last section of the flyer said the woman would pay for all expenses and, If interested, contact the mutual friend who sent you this for further instructions. Jon double checked who that mutual friend was, half wondering if the flyer had found its way to him by mistake. But, no. Gilly had texted him, his screen told him. His best friend’s girlfriend. And she’d never texted him by mistake before, so — Curiosity peaked, Jon tossed aside the book he’d been reading and fired off a reply. Jon: Is this a joke? Some funny thing you stumbled across online? Instead of texting back, Gilly called right away. Speaking over the noise of the hair salon where she worked, she said, “I’ve got like, three minutes until my next appointment, so don’t interrupt, okay?” Jon kept quiet. “Okay?” Gilly repeated. “Wait? Are you there?” “That was me not interrupting,” Jon said. “Oh, gods. Okay, so her name is Sansa and she’s gorgeous and really, really nice, and she moved back to Winterfell about a year ago after living far away for like, I don’t know, seven or eight years maybe? She said she went to the private school here in town. What’s it called again? No, don’t answer that. Time crunch and all that. Anyway, the point is that you went to different schools so you don’t know each other, but you might know her brother? Wren Stark?” “You mean Robb Stark?” Jon had been a loner throughout most of his school years, but as a junior he’d let his favorite teacher, Mr. Rodrick, who was also the wrestling coach, talk him into joining an organized sport for the first time ever. Robb had been a senior and the team’s captain. Nice enough guy. Helped Jon feel included throughout the season without treating him like a totally charity case. They remained Facebook friends all these years later, though they never interacted. “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe it was Robb,” Gilly answered. “Anyway, Sansa thought about making a profile on a dating app or whatever, but she was worried she’d attract some real weirdos. So she made that flyer instead and asked a few of her friends to share it — discreetly — with a few of their friends. And now, if you’re interested, I’m supposed to give her your number. And I very much want you to be interested, by the way, because you need to start dating again. Think of this as, like, a practice round or something. Oh, and you need a vacation too. Desperately. When was the last time you left the North?” “Uh… never?” Jon replied, trying not to laugh. This was ridiculous. Why did Gilly always think she could boss him around? Just because Sam let her get away with such antics didn’t mean he had to, right? “So I should give Sansa your number?” she asked. “You know her from the salon?” “Yeah. Did I not say that already? She has perfect hair, so all we ever do is trim it. But she always tips me really well.” Gilly let that comment simmer, and Jon, of course, understood why. Ever since he inherited a life-changing amount of money from his dad, he’d been weary of getting involved with a woman of little means. That made him feel like an asshole, but, hey, feeling like an asshole was better than having to wonder if the woman in question only liked him because of the size of his bank account. “I think she might be rich,” Gilly added after several beats of silence, like maybe she thought Jon was too dense to make the connection. “Yeah, but how rich?” he asked. Because he’d also been weary of getting involved with women who grew up in affluent families. He hadn’t grown up in one himself — his dad had been a distant figure in his life — and he knew he would never fit in in that world. What did he remember about the Starks? His mind raced in that direction before his question could be answered. Robb had worn nice clothes and driven an SUV that looked too expensive for a teenager to afford on their own. But if his parents were super rich, why hadn’t they sent all of their children to private school like Sansa? Wait, why had she not gone to Winterfell High? Why was she the exception to the rule within her family? Jon had more questions. “I’m hesitant to tell you everything I know,” Gilly said. “You have a tendency to draw too many conclusions from too little information. Incorrect conclusions, usually, I should remind you.” Jon scoffed. He wasn’t sure he agreed with that assessment, but whatever. He’d let it slide. “What’s this Sansa character do for a living?” he asked. Gilly squealed. “That means you’re considering it. I can tell. I’m so excited.” “What? No. I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I can read you like a book.” Jon hesitated before admitting, in his own special way, that Gilly had the right of it. “I liked the part where she called her ex-boyfriend’s mom the actual devil. That amused me.” He took a beat to rub his hand over the back of his neck. “And it’s not as if I have anything better to do with my time,” he added. Too often lately, he’d been home, by himself, doing nothing. He was going stir crazy. He needed a change. A new person to meet. A new city to see. Something. Anything. “Oh, gods. Okay. This is thrilling,” Gilly said. “But my one o’clock just walked in, so I gotta go. I’ll send Sansa your number and tell her how wonderful you are. And then hopefully she’ll text you tonight. Don’t be weird if she does, okay? Promise me.” “I’m never weird, Gil.” She cackled, a weird way of expressing disagreement. “You’re frequently weird,” she said, “especially around girls. But I really do have to go now, okay? I’ll text her, she’ll text you. It’ll be great.” “Uh huh.” “Uh huh,” Gilly echoed teasingly. “Sam and I love you. Ba-bye.” She hung up the phone, and Jon returned his attention to the flyer in their text history. The thing looked like it could have been professionally made. Maybe Sansa worked in graphic design or marketing or something? Was that a lucrative industry? Jon wouldn’t know. He’d spent most of adulthood working at sporting goods stores, taking advantage of their employee discounts in order to outfit long backpacking trips around the North. He quit only recently, about four months after receiving his inheritance. Now he was unemployed, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with himself and the money that had opened up his options. Start his own business, maybe? But what kind of business, he had no idea. The screen on Jon’s phone turned black, catching his attention and drawing his thoughts back to the flyer he’d been studying. Rather than guess at Sansa’s career, he sent Gilly another text, wondering if she'd have time after her current appointment to reply to him. Jon: What’s Sansa do for a living? An hour passed without reply. With his patience dwindling, he realized he had other methods of research at his disposal. He logged on to Facebook, found Robb Stark, then searched his friends list for Sansa. Nothing. She either didn’t have a profile, or she had those extra security measures in place which prevented her from appearing in his search. Another twenty minutes passed and then, finally, Gilly sent him a text. This one was an embedded YouTube video, no further explanation included. Jon clicked play. He watched a door swing open to reveal a woman — not a drawing — with dark red hair and big blue eyes. “Hey, everybody,” she said. “Welcome back to my channel. Or, if you’re new here, welcome for the first time. I’m Sansa, and —” She paused to grin. It was a big, toothy thing Jon found he liked despite his reluctance to like anything to do with a YouTube star. “And today’s the big day,” she continued. “I’m so excited to walk you through the final reveal of our co-working space. Come on in.” She turned over her shoulder, beckoning the camera to follow her. She took a few steps forward, and then the video faded to a white, ever so briefly, before bubbly music and an animated introduction — similar style of the flyer — took over the screen. Jon watched all fifteen minutes of the interior design tour video without interruption, despite Sansa’s suggestion that he first go back and watch the other four in the so-called Headquarters Series. By the end of it, he’d learned that her YouTube channel focused on “rental -friendly interior designs and DIY projects on a budget.” Okay, that was sort of cool, he had to admit. He wasn’t the target audience, but he could appreciate it. And even better than that? By the end of the video, Jon had also learned that nearly four years ago, Sansa was let go from her dream job at a lifestyle magazine, which was “devastating at the time,” but, ultimately, put her on the path to where she was now — the leader of her own company, where she worked with five of her “most favorite people of all time.” Sansa made that happen for herself. And as far as Jon could tell, she hadn’t needed inherited money to do it. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from her. Anyway, yeah, she had a decent amount of money, it seemed. New money, like him. And Gilly was right, she was gorgeous. So even though he would have said no sixteen minutes ago, had anyone asked if he thought he could like a YouTuber who decorated in pastel color schemes, he was intrigued. What was the story behind Sansa, her ex-boyfriend, and his devilish mother? What made her aunt so crazy and her aunt’s boyfriend so creepy? What was the destination of this destination wedding? Jon hoped he would soon find out. 

[mousolinibutcallhimpasta]

Foolish has a heart he can give away easily and freely, because that’s what men like Foolish are. He lives his life with joy in his step and the recklessness of youth running through his marrow.

Foolish lives his life freely, but that didn’t mean getting heartbroken was any less painful than it was the first time.

(He thought Vegetta was the one, that the man could be trusted with his heart, now that he claimed it so spectacularly.

Foolish could swear up and down that he’d never cheat on Vegetta, though he guessed Vegetta didn’t think the same.)

“Fuckin’ cheater…” He growled to himself, sitting in a dingy bar with no one for company. Quackity had left a long time ago, dark eyes shining with worry and hesitance as he called out to Foolish.

“Sorry I can’t stay back with you man” He had offered then, “But my girl’s waiting at home and I promised myself to be a better parent.”

Foolish had nodded, trying to read the label of a bottle he had taken from the shelf, distantly wondering why his eyes couldn’t focus properly.

Now, he’s staring down at the bottle in his hands, on the verge of another outburst.

“Foolish, are you in here?” A familiar voice crooned, padded feet walking upon chilled wood before the totem heard the chair screech across from him. “You really hadn’t left?”

Foolish growled, lessening his grip on the bottle before he broke it. “The fuck you want, Bad.”

It said a lot that Bad didn’t even reprimand him for cursing. “I wanted to check on you, Quackity told me that you were drowning your sorrows at the bar and all.”

“Don’t want your company.” Foolish muttered, taking a swig of the bottle. “Let me drown my sorrows in peace.”

“Well, fine. But if you wanna talk, I’m right here.” Bad said, taking another bottle on the table and pouring himself a shot.

It was silence for barely an hour, occasionally broken my the clink of glass and sniffles of a man barely holding himself together. Finally, Foolish spoke.

“Fucker cheated.” The totem took another swig of his glass. Bad hummed in confusion.

“Who?”

“Fucking Vegetta, who else?!” Foolish barked out, slamming the bottle onto the table. “He fucking cheated on me! With Diablo!”

“The devil?” Bad muttered, barely holding himself together. “But you cheated first, why are you so upset?”

Foolish hissed, the clouds thundering in response to the man’s anger. “How many times do I need to tell you that I didn’t kiss Mariana? He wanted to kiss me!”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Bad soothed, pouring Foolish a shot before downing his own drink. “That’s not the most important thing right now, what happened?”

“I told him about the Mariana thing, wanted to solve it before you guys poisoned his head.” Foolish mumbled, slurring his word like speaking was exhausting. “He said it was fine, said he kissed his ex just today. That he felt better now that it wasn’t cheating, cause it’s a two-way street.”

(Foolish remembered how it felt, hearing the words come out of that man’s mouth. How his face twisted into a weird smile as his eyes shine with relief.

“Then it’s fair game, no?” He had joked. “I can kiss my Osito fiu fiu now too, seeing as you’re kissing Mariana.”

And Foolish, who’s been stressed and tired and seeking comfort from the accusations and the backtalk, hoping for some kind of sympathy from his lover, had gotten his heart shattered.

And something in him, something like the person he strives to be, the man that laughed and smiled and cheered with joy and ignored the cracked vestiges of his own heart, the man that used to enjoy sleeping around and didn’t believe in the shame of having multiple partners.

The man that loved his daughter and his husband, the man that hoped to be the father he hadn’t been before the End, the man that smiled at Leonarda and ignored how similar she was to his other kids.

The man that wanted to experience a life worth living.

That man had snapped.)

Bad winced. “Yeah, ok. I can see why you’re angry.”

“No you fucking don’t, Bad.” Foolish growled, the bottle breaking underneath his fingers and the world thundering beneath his anger. “You’re one of the first to accuse me of cheating. I don’t trust a single shit you spew out of your mouth.”

Bad grimaced, before smoothing out into a placating smile. “No need to be so angry, now I stand corrected, okay? I’m 100% sure you never cheated on Vegetta.”

“And how do I trust you?” Foolish hissed. “Despite our history together Bad, I’d trust you as much as I trust a stick to defend me against a creeper. We may be friends here, but let’s not forget the amount of shit you’ve thrown at me during our time as friends.”

Bad physically flinched at that, before he smiled kindly and tried to convince Foolish. “Look, I know I made really bad decisions for as long as we’ve known each other, but I promise you that I believe you didn’t cheat.”

“And why the change of tune?” Foolish raised a brow, wiping his hand with a napkin. “Thought you’d say shit about how I used to hop around all the damn time.”

“Well, I know how faithful you are to Leonarda.” Bad offered, his white eyes ever piercing in the darkness of the bar. “You’ve been nothing but good to her, and she loves you! If she trusts that you haven’t cheated, then you haven’t.”

“Besides,” Bad continued. “ You’ve never been this heartbroken when someone cheated on you after you cheated on them.”

Foolish grinned, a mean thing with too many teeth and eyes too bright. “Damn right.”

“It’s just fuckin’ unfair.” Foolish then said, taking a swig from the mountain of bottles on the table. “I have to deal with people believing I’m a cheater. Meanwhile my own damn husband is cheating on me with a demon and faces no damn consequences. While I have to wake up every morning and hear people’s whispers behind my damn back!” He growled.

Bad nodded in sympathy, silently vowing to never speak of the cheating allegations ever again. “Yeah, I can see why you’d be upset.”

“It’s unfair, Bad! Unfair cause no one believes me besides my daughter! No one! There is no one on my side in this damn server!” He threw the bottle, watching it break and take a wall with it.

“Well, I am.” Bad comforted. “I’m on your side now too.”

“You move in accordance to the damn drama, Bad.” Foolish glared. “I don’t trust you to have my back.”

“I will.” Bad promised. “You are the only person I’ll trust on this server, in this life and the next, it’ll be you and I. Always.”

“How do I know you wouldn’t just stab me in the back like you used to?” Foolish snapped, grumbling as he fixed the walls of the bar.

“Because you and I have history, didn’t you say?” Bad offered. “We’re old beings, Foolish. Older than Philza and everyone on this server combined. You and I are the only people to keep our memories, Phil doesn’t even know.”

“How can I turned my back on you after everything we’ve gone through together? I don’t leave comrades behind that easily.”

Foolish laughed. “I told you Bad, I’m not that man anymore. I’m trying to change.”

“You’re trying pretty badly then.” Bad chimed. “Don’t think I didn’t see that red in your eyes.”

Foolish froze, before his hands carefully began mending the broken wall. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to drop that nice guy act in front of me? I know your true colors.” Bad offered.

“It’s not like you really want to return to it right now, mr. Favored.”

“I’m not.” Foolish glared, sitting back down at the table and taking another swig. “I’m not favored anymore.”

“You are.” Bad hummed.” The old you hasn’t been gone for that long, it’s only been, what? A couple hundred years? The gods would’ve punished you by now if they didn’t like you so much.”

Foolish rolled his eyes. “What’s the point, Conqueror Halo?”

“Not the conqueror just yet.” Bad refuted. “And I’m just a guy comforting his friend during his moment of weakness. What’s wrong about that?”

“We both know you aren’t doing this out of just the kindness of your heart.”

“Ah, you got me there.” Bad giggled, his star-bright eyes flashed that familiar shade of red. “I wanted you to come join me again.”

“…what?” Foolish muttered.

“You heard me.” Bad chuckled. “I wanted us to be partners in crime again, the Conqueror and the Favored, the duo that strikes fear into mortal hearts. We could be great again, fight like we used to fight, no more relationships, no more cheating, none of the friendships that end in betrayal. Just us, traveling together and destroying the world.”

“We have kids.” Foolish pointed out, though he didn’t deny he was interested. “I can’t leave Leonarda, you can’t leave Dapper.”

Bad nodded, solemn and understanding. “I meant after the dragon takes her kids back, when all of them are grown up and can take care of themselves. We can leave then.”

Foolish thought about it. It was an enticing offer, he didn’t have to play the stupid man that threw his heart away with ease, that loved only to get it broken and bounced back like relationships were just flings.

He could be the person he used to be, that golden totem with gods nipping at his heels, whispering nectar in his ears and gifting him everything in exchange for chaos and a chance to capture his hand.

He could.

“I think you know my answer.” Foolish decided. Like it was some kind of confirmation, Bad had grinned. “I’m so glad to see you again, Favored.”

Later, when Vegetta sees Foolish, he’ll wonder about the dark glint in the totem’s eyes, ponder on how he changed from the soft and bright man to the man with dark eyes and sharp smiles.

Vegetta would wonder about the blank eyes that look at him, the smile that seemed bright like fluorescent lights, the undercurrents of resentment twisting the air.

He’d wonder what he’s done wrong as he watches Foolish play with their daughter, their cheer as bright as it’s ever been despite the ever-present chill in their home. He’d wonder as he realized that Foolish stopped smiling so warmly at him, that the man seemed to go out of his way to avoid Vegetta.

He’d wonder where he screwed up as Foolish talked with Bad more often, as Leonarda became lightly hesitant around him.

He’d wonder and only knew where he messed up when Foolish smiled for the last time, his emerald eyes alight with bloodlust as the seas turned red, a familiar bear head laying beneath the totem’s feet.

[anxresi]

Submission From Another Miraculous Fan...

just saw revolution for the 3rd time just to confirm that all my worst fears came true in the worst way imaginable GOD it was disgusting!  like there really are people out there who think there was some kind of "not everyone can be redeemed" message behind that vengeful, sickening, and even downright toxic writing, lol!  with the incredible amount of inconsistencies, dodgy, repetitive and poorly written dialogue behind Chloe's arc frankly i feel like people just stopped at the thought of the post and didn't really pay attention to it  what was told behind.  I especially like those people who say that Chloe will be able to taste her own medicine because now child abuse has become acceptable because she is mean!  wonderful!

  Am I supposed to be proud of Andre?  the good joke?  the man who abused his power time and time again for Chloe, who never called her out on her way of treating others, acting like a scared dog in front of his own daughter but now that he sees the error of his  manners does he decide to take responsibility for his daughter's actions?  to be a better father?  to scold her?  to advise her?  to give him limits and as FELIX would say to help him move forward in life as any parent worthy of the name would do?  nooooo of course he divorces him, keeps the nice girl with him and throws the human waste into the arms of his mother who of course has been held up as a "role model" all this time and I'm supposed to call that good writing, people are  they aware of what they are watching or not?

  let it be clear André bourgeois was never the victim of anyone even less of Chloé, he had the power to do what he did from the start, he just lacked the will and now that he gets  what is he doing?  HE THROWS IT????  no but wake up! it's Chloé's FUCKING FATHER my GOD do you really think it's the right thing to do here????André bourgeois is only what he has always been here: irresponsible  , a coward, a bad father and a poor guy!  he does not take responsibility for anything neither for abusing his power nor for supporting his daughter in these abuses all this time, he is rewarded with a nicer girl that he appropriates while he has NO  RIGHT of any kind on her but hey I'm sure Mr Lee will have no problem finding out that his daughter was left to her co-husband🤣🤣🤣, by the powers conferred on him he ejects himself from the town hall and divorces  in a snap of your fingers like man😑😑😑 you're not malediktor anymore that's not how it works!!! god the logic of the world is completely off the rails in this universe😧😧😧 he can now live his life as a movie director without worrying about his daughter  irreparable that he throws into the arms of his ex-wife without a second thought and from what I see we are witnessing the beginning or the continuity (at your choice) of the cycle of abuse from mother to daughter and we public must applaud without any form  reflection!

  the double standards and hypocrisy behind the writing of this series will never cease to disgust me and amaze me with how Thomas and his cronies always find a way to sink lower than before every time!  because yes they are ALL RESPONSIBLE, I want Thomas to have influence but from the moment you accept that shit like this should be broadcast you have a serious problem!  I don't hate Chloé or André or the other characters I just pity them because at the end of the day they are just the victims of a man with an oversized ego made megalomaniac by the success of what he has  created!  the redemption of the notorious terrorist who terrorized the city and abused his son for months will just be the culmination of some of the most mediocre writing I've ever seen on a show  for child!  even the adrienette kiss didn't inspire me anything their debut in origins not bad, evolution sucked, fixation sucked, interaction as a couple sucked EVERYTHING was boring!!!marichat was definitely my favorite here!

..............................

This is me talking now ...Apart from that, I think they thought it was a pretty sound episode! ;)

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ruki Dark [Epilogue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the guest room at Eden

Ruki: ...

*Flip*

Yui: ( Ruki-kun is reading a book again. Nothing new there but...Shouldn’t he go to bed soon? )

( Still, I’d feel bad for interrupting him. He seems to be focused after all...I wonder what kind of book he’s reading? )

Ruki: ...Would you like to say something? 

Yui: Eh? 

Ruki: You tend to make that kind of expression whenever you have something to tell me. Am I wrong?

Yui: ...You know me well.

Ruki: I’ve learnt to read your expressions from spending so much time together. So, what’s wrong?

Yui: It isn’t necessarily something I need to say but...I was just wondering what kind of book you’re reading.

Ruki: One you would never understand.

Yui: ...Perhaps not. 

Ruki: I was only teasing you. No need to sulk. 

This is a poetry collection written by a French poet.

Yui: What’s written in there? 

Ruki: To put it simply, there are a lot of poems which center around the topic of immorality. 

According to this poet’s words, all humans are being manipulated by the Devil. 

Yui: D-Demons...?

Ruki: Exactly. He calls this Devil ‘Trismégiste’. (1)

I mean, it is not that much of a stretch, is it? Vampires do exist after all. 

I am sure that all living creatures on Earth have fallen captive to this Devil he speaks of. That is why they continue to commit deadly sins.

Yui: ...Deadly sins...

Ruki: It might also be the Devil’s fault...that I continue to keep you by my side like this.

Yui: ...It wasn’t what you wanted, was it?

( To keep Eve by his side despite not being Adam is a form of betrayal. That’s why it was never his true intention. )

( I’ve always been aware of that but knowing that Ruki-kun never wished for this outcome...makes me really sad. )

Ruki: ...I believe I phrased myself badly. Listen carefully, Yui. 

While it may have been the tempting whispers of the Devil at first. Still, right now the situation has completely changed. It is my own decision to not let you go. 

Yui: ...Thank god. 

Ruki: That should have been obvious by now, no? That’s why...I didn’t think you’d take my words so literally.

Yui: You always talk in riddles...There’s times where I can no longer tell your jokes from the truth.

Ruki: ...In that case, I shall tell you upfront.

ー Ruki steps closer

Ruki: I do not have the slightest intention of handing you over to someone else. ...You belong only to me, Yui.

Not even the Devil can have you...

*TIMESKIP*

ー A flashback ensues

Ruki: ...

( ...I can’t sleep. )

*Rustle* 

Ruki: ( I feel very much awake today...I suppose I should just get out of bed and read a bookーー )

*Rustle rustle*

Ruki: ( ...? There’s a lot of noise. Who could it be at this hour? )

Ruki’s Father: ーー Oi! Is anyone there!?

Ruki: ( Eh? ...Father? I thought he had left for the city for a meeting...? I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to be back until the day after tomorrow? )

( Did the meeting end earlier than he expected? ...Oh well. I suppose I’ll use the opportunity to go say hello to him. )

ー The scene shifts to the living room of Ruki’s old home

Ruki’s Father: Oi, I want booze...Bring me a bottle.

Servant: Not to be rude, Sir, but it appears that you have already had quite a bit to drink, so you probably shouldn’t...

Ruki’s Father: Silence! You’re going to talk back to me!? Just bring me a bottle already!

*CRASH*

Servant: ...My sincere apologies. I shall bring you some at once...!

ー The servant runs off

Ruki’s Father: Damnit, what a bunch of incompetent fools...!

Ruki’s Mother: Dear...Did something happen at work, perhaps...?

Ruki’s Father: This is more than a little something! Some random fucker I had never even heard of before showed up and got ahead of me!

That guy...He appeared out of nowhere a couple of days ago and has already become one of the president’s favorites...!

He whispered a couple of sweet words into the president’s ear and had me removed by the president himself! How am I supposed to stay positive under these circumstances!? 

Does he have any idea how hard I worked to be able to climb my way up as just a simple merchant!? Yet that guy had the nerve to...!

That filthy swindler...What kind of dirty trick did he use!?

*SHATTER*

Ruki’s Mother: ...D-Dear! You’ll wake up our son...!

Ruki’s Father: Shut up!

...Fufu...Ahaha! Can you believe this? From what I’ve heard, that guy has sold his soul to the Devil. 

No...I actually think he is the Devil himself.

Just you watch...I shall reveal his true intentions and show the president that he’s nothing but a dirty crook!

*THUD*

Ruki’s Father: I will become the President’s right-hand man! I won’t give up that position to anyone else! To nobody!!

Ruki’s Mother: D-Dear, please stop!

Ruki’s Father: Don’t get in my way!!

*SMACK*

Ruki’s Mother: ...!

Servant: Madam!

*Thud*

Servant: Please step back, Sir! I cannot believe you would harm your own wife...!

Ruki’s Father: Shut up! Don’t defy me!!

That swindler...The Devil...Trismégiste, I shall be the one to drive him out of this country!!

*Rustle* 

Ruki: ...Ugh...

ー A young Ruki runs away

Monologue

ーー Up until that point,

Father had always been a kind man in my eyes.

As his son, he had always spoiled me,

as I could not even recall one time he had ever scolded me.

That is exactly why ーー I was shaking in fear,

when I saw him rage that night.

For the first time in my life, I felt fear towards my Father,

as at the same time, I found myself thinking: ‘Who is that man?’

That man who stood there yelling with a glazed look in his eyes,

hurting my mother by raising his hand at herーー

It was almost like I was looking at the Devil himself. 

However, when I timidly sat down at the table the next morning,

the person who greeted me there,

was my usual, kind Father.

That is why I made myself believe. 

It must have all been a dream. 

And that who I saw ーー was not the Devil. 

ー Ruki wakes up from a dream in the guest room at Eden

*Rustle* 

Ruki: ...!

Haah...haah...

...What a horrible dream...

ー The scene shifts to the bathroom

Ruki: ( ...I thought I had stopped dreaming about the past. )

( It must be a bad joke to have such a dream at a time like this... )

...Trismégiste.

( I had forgotten about it up till now...No, I tried to ban it from my memories. )

Monologue

Father ーー My real Father,

he deeply despised a certain individual. 

A man who shared the same name,

as the Devil who appears in that poetry collection...Trismégiste. 

I wonder if he was actually called that? 

Or perhaps Father simply used it as an analogy,

to compare him to the Devil...?

I still do not know to this day.

However, back then,

I truly thought of my own Father as the Devil. 

Seeing him drown in his own desire, having lost sight of himself,

it was truly horrifying. 

Ruki: ( That dream...It feels almost like it’s trying to tell me something about myself. )

( If my Father was the Devil, then I also have that blood running through my veinsーー )

...!

*Thud*

*Shatter* 

Ruki: ...Ridiculous.

It is simply outrageous to assume that a Vampire is being possessed by the Devil...

It is only humans such as my Father...who can fall victim to the Devil known as Trismégiste... 

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall

Ruki: ( ...I have to stop the bleeding. If Yui sees my hand, she’ll make a fuss againーー )

ー Yuma walks up to him

Yuma: Oh, Ruki. Whatcha doin’ here this late at night?

Ruki: Yuma...What are you doing here then?

Yuma: I was havin’ trouble fallin’ asleep so I figured I’d get some exercise...Wait, what the fuck happened to yer hand!?

Ruki: This is...nothing.

Yuma: Haah? 

...Look, if ya really think that it’s nothin’ when there’s blood gushin’ out like crazy, then you’re seriously bonkers.

Ruki: ...Good point. I must have surely gone crazy right now.

Yuma: ...Oi. Don’t put so much pressure on yerself, mate. It’s a bad habit of yers.

Ruki: What are you trying to say? 

Yuma: The Adam thing is weighin’ heavy on yer mind, isn’t it?

Ruki: ...Did she tell you?

Yuma: I don��t need to ask anyone to figure that one out. How long do ya think we’ve been bros for?

Knowin’ ya, I bet you’re frettin’ ‘bout it? 

Ruki: ...Whatever goes on inside my head is none of your business. Leave me alone.

Yuma: Aah? No need to act like that when I’m worried ‘bout ya, right?

Ruki: I don’t remember ever asking for your concern. If you understand that, then mind your own business. Do not make me repeat myself. 

Yuma: ...Listen mate, then maybe ya shouldn’t act in a way that’ll make us worried ‘bout ya?

Even right now ya look like a hot mess! Maybe you should take a good look in the mirror first before ya spout that sorta cocky bullshit!

Ruki: ...

ー Ruki grabs hold of his collar

*Rustle*

Ruki: Remember, you’re the younger brother here, so don’t speak like you know me!

Yuma: Che...Ya stubborn blockhead! Do I need to punch ya first before you’ll actually snap back to reality!? 

Ruki: Punch me then!

ー Kou and Azusa walk up to them

Kou: Geez~ ...It’s the middle of the night, can’t you pipe down a liーー Wait, what are you two doing!?

Azusa: An argument...?

Kou: Hey, Yuma-kun! I don’t know what happened, but let go of him!

Yuma: Shut up! Ya guys back off! Words just don’t work on this fool over here!

Ruki: Excuse me...!? 

Azusa: Yuma, calm down...! You too, Ruki, why are you so upset...?

Kou: Exactly! I’m not so much surprised about Yuma-kun but this isn’t like you, Ruki-kun!?

Ruki: ...!

Yuma: There’s no talkin’ to him! With guys like him ya need to...!

*THUD*

Ruki: Guh...!

ー Ruki collapses

*Thud*

Azusa: Ruki!

Yuma: They just don’t understand unless ya give ‘em a good ol’ beatin’! Isn’t that so, Ruki!?

Ruki: Yuma, youーー ...!

*SCENE SHIFT*

Yui: ( Ruki-kun...He wasn’t there when I woke up. I wonder where he ran off to? )

( Also, there seems to be a commotion going on up ahead...? I wonder if somebody else is also awake? )

Kou: Cut it out already, you two!!

Yui: ( Was that...Kou-kun just now? )

Ruki: Stay out of it, Kou!

Yui: ( Ruki-kun as well!? Don’t tell me they’re fighting over something...!? )

ー Yui runs up to them

Yui: You guys!? What are you doing...!? 

Ruki: Oh...

Yui: Ruki-kun!? You’re bleeding from your mouth...! And your hand is covered in blood as well!? What on earth happened...!? 

Ruki: ...This is nothing for you to worry abouーー

Yuma: There ya go again! Seems like ya could still use a couple more punches!

Yui: You punched him...!? 

Yuma: Yeah, exactly! Got a problem with that, huh!? 

That fool over there was frettin’ by himself while tryin’ to act like nothin’s wrong so I gave him a reality check!

Kou: Oh come on, Yuma-kun! Calm down already!

Ruki: ...

...You can take it however you want. 

But I was just doing what I always do. Then he started to insult me.That’s all.

Yuma: Ruki, you bastard...!

Ruki: ...I’ve had enough. 

*Rustle*

Yuma: Wait! You’re runnin’ away now!? ...Why don’t you get it!?

Ruki: ...Unlike you, I’ve got more than just one brain cell.

ー Ruki walks away

Yui: Ruki-kun!

Yuma: ...Fuck! Just leave that idiot be!

Yui: ( Why...? I can’t believe they would get in such an argument when they’ve always been so close...! )

Wait, Ruki-kun!

ー Yui runs after him

Yuma: ...That stupid big bro of mine...

*SCENE SHIFT*

Yui: Ruki-kun! Hey, hold up!

Please, talk to me. What exactly happened...!? 

Ruki: Didn’t I just tell you? It isn’t anything serious. 

Yui: Don’t say that! You must have had a proper reason to get into such a big fight, right!?

Ruki: ...Why do you think that?

Yui: Why, you ask...? I mean, because it’s nothing like you.

Ruki: ...So even you are saying the same thing now.

Yui: Eh...?

ー Ruki walks away again

Yui: ...I said wait! Where are you going!? 

Ruki: ...

ーー The Sakamaki Castle. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The French poet Ruki refers to here is Charles Baudelaire who is famous for works such as ‘Fleurs du Mal’.