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beomiracles · 4 months ago

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HI SERENE :3 okay so first, love the new theme and i LOVED trocyj. it’s genuinely impressive how insufferable you made yj like u had me taking walks around my room out of frustration 😭😭

and also!! i was hoping to place a request :3 so recently i had this dream where soobin and i worked at an ice cream shop and soobin was my coworker who i was also crushing on 🤭 (not to mention the fact that he looked adorable in the pink uniform). during the dream while we were closing he literally like backed me into a corner amd was about to kiss me.. like lips barely grazing each other.. and then i woke up.

so i was hoping maybe u could reimagine it? pick up where the dream left off? and maybe make it a little spicy 😇 thanks again lovie!!

-⛸️

⌞ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 ⌝

DREAM RECALL the closing shift with your far too handsome coworker leaves an even bigger mess to clean than what you had originally started with.

wc -> 2.7k

pairings coworker!soobin x coworker!reader (afab) warnings unprotected sex + pullout method, some fingering, mutual pining kinda?, kind of perv!soobin but also perv!reader, lots of kissing, big dick soobin + size kink

#serene adds ✎ hehe thank you for liking the theme!! and trocyj omg, I could talk about that fic for days.. I see why everyone's pissed with yj but his character was genuinely so much fun to write >.< I'm also like insanely jealous of your dreams because wtf is this. lend me your mind.

I skimmed this once, let me know if I missed anything !

“Ah, no sorry, I’m afraid we’re out of chocolate..” You apologize as you watch the young girl’s face fall. She turns to her mother with a small pout and you bite your lip as you think of a way to salvage the situation. Just as you’re about to suggest the strawberry or mango flavor instead, your colleague's voice cuts you off. — “I’m sure we have some leftovers in the back”, Soobin chirps as he leans over the disk to peer down at the girl, “would you like me to go check?” Her face immediately brightens up as she nods feverishly and her mom gives him a thankful smile.

Upon leaning back up, his large hand brushes past your lower back and you feel your breath hitch at the small touch. “Be right back”, he grins before disappearing through the door leading to the large freezer. — Despite having worked together for nearly three months now, you couldn’t help but do a double take whenever you saw that the two of you would be having the next shift together. Nor could you control the way your heart almost beat out of your chest whenever he as much as glanced in your direction.

It was a hopeless crush that you were not planning on pursuing. Because there was no way that someone like Soobin would even consider someone like you. Not that he had ever mentioned a girlfriend or anything of the sort, or that you had even dared to ask. But you still refused to acknowledge your feelings as anything else besides a small heartthrob.

Not before long, does he re-emerge from the small storage unit, a package of chocolate ice cream in his hands. You find your gaze lingering on his pink uniform, sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you follow their movement when he places the box down. — It isn’t until the mother goes to pay that you’re snapped back to reality, stumbling over your words as you squeak out a quiet, $2.35.

“Here you go”, Soobin smiles as he hands the little girl her cone of ice cream. She giggles as she takes it from him, making a shy comment about him having soft hands. You refuse a small smirk, watching the tip of his ears turn pink as he chuckles.

⸝⸝

As the last customer leaves an hour later, you walk over to flip the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Soobin shuffling around as he moves the ice cream from the disk by the front and into the freezer in the back. — You had shared plenty of shifts together, but this would be the first time you closed up just the two of you. Without the bustling noise of customers, the air suddenly felt twice as thick and you swallowed a small gulp before joining him behind the counter.

Immersing yourself with popping the lid back onto the containers, you think of something to say, something to break the silence lingering between you. “Here let me help you”, he suddenly exclaims and you almost drop the three boxes in your arms, startled by his sudden appearance. If he noticed it, he didn’t make a comment on the matter, flashing you a small grin as he took two of the now sealed containers from your hands. “T-Thanks”, you stammer, trying your hardest not to let your cheeks flare up at the way his fingers brushed over yours.

"Jesus christ pull yourself together", you mutter as you follow him into the storage room. The cool air in there was refreshing, easily washing off the heat emitting from your flustered body and you exhaled in relief. — You let him go first, watching as he places the ice cream boxes amongst the rest, gaze lingering on the way his forearms flexed as he did. He turns to you with a small grin and you blink a couple of times before springing into action as you walk over to the small corner.

Your hands feel clammy against the container in your tight grip despite the cold temperature of the room. Thinking that he might leave and allow you a minute to yourself to regain your composure, you take your time as you lock up the small freezer in which the ice creams were kept. But there are no sounds of his retreating footsteps, and you can feel his gaze on you the whole time.

It isn’t until you turn around that your heart practically leaps out of your chest. Soobin was standing barely three inches from you, his chest near pressing against your own and your eyes widened as they flickered up to meet his. — You knew that he was tall, like really tall, and there was no mistaking his broad shoulders either. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t fantasized about his large hands a couple of times, not that you would ever admit it out loud, you think you would rather face death itself.

But when this close, the back of your thighs hitting the cold steel of the freezer behind you, with nowhere to escape, you suddenly felt very small in front of him. He doesn’t say anything, biting the inside of his cheek, Soobin leans closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath hovering above your lips. — What was going on?

His gaze doesn’t stray from yours as he reaches a hand up to your face. Your eyes flutter closed at the sudden invasion of your personal space. Thinking that he might just actually kiss you, your heart almost beats out of your chest, the sound thumping in your ears like that of a heavy bass. But he doesn’t. Instead of grazing your cheek, just like you thought he would, his fingers aim for your hair as he brushes through it. Your eyes reopen, this time in slight confusion as you frown.

“You had something…in your hair”, he murmurs before letting his hand drop to his side. “O-Oh”, you breathe, running your own fingers through your locks as embarrassment flushes over your cheeks. He takes a step back and you feel your stomach drop, beyond ashamed over your obvious overreaction to the small gesture. — You don’t dare move as you watch him head for the door once more. God he would never want to work with you ever again.

It isn’t until one of his hands wraps around the handle that he stops. Still unmoving, you shift awkwardly by the freezer as you eye his tall frame, seeing him shake his head as he mutters something under his breath. — Then he turns around, the action so quick that you barely comprehend what’s happening until he’s in front of you again. Except this time he’s all over you, chest pressing against yours, his large hands easily covering the sides of your face as he pulls your lips to his.

He kisses you roughly, as if he was trying to convey a thousand words with a single move. Gripping on to the freezer, your eyes widen as your mind tries to process what was happening. But he’s quick to pull back, his breathing is labored when does. — “Fuck I’m sorry I… I just”, he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, taking a small step back as he lets go of your face. “Look I.. I don’t know what came over me I just–”

But you won’t hear any of it. Shaking your head, one of your hands snake around his neck, pulling him back down as you force your mouth onto his again. This time there’s no hesitation from either of you as his hands quickly find your waist. Pushing you further onto the cooler behind you, Soobin wastes no time in squeezing himself between your spread legs. “H-ah, been wanting to do this for so long”, he groans, and you sigh against his lips as his tongue finds yours.

Wait. Did he just say that he’s been wanting to do this? Then that would imply… All those lingering touches, the small grins, the quick glances.. Your mind was reeling with the newfound information and your hands quickly braced themselves on his shoulders as you pulled back for a short second. — Upon breaking apart from the kiss, Soobin looks at you, a flash of worry striking his features, almost as if he had done something wrong.

You quickly try to ease his nerves, “I…I’ve been wanting to do this too”, you quietly mumble, biting your lip as the color on your cheeks only rises. His tense face immediately relaxes as he lets out a short sigh of relief. “Oh thank god”, he murmurs, his hands gliding along your thighs as he pushes your pink uniform up. — “Wait”, your fingers around his wrists stop him and his eyes flit to yours with a hint of concern. “We can’t…I mean.. not here”, you whisper, throwing an anxious glance around the small storage room.

“You locked the entrance, right?” He wonders, head tilted to the side as he studies you intently. Slowly nodding, you’re still not entirely convinced. “Then we’re good, yeah?” He says in a somewhat smug voice, his fingers drawing small circles on the skin between your thighs, creeping higher with each passing second. You consider his words carefully, he did have a point, there were just the two of you here right now, and it was past working hours.

Oh who were you kidding? You’d had a crush on the guy for nearly three months now and here he was, openly asking for what you had been longing to do for so long. There was no way you’d pass him up. With a short nod you let him reconnect your lips as his fingers quickly move to glide across the already drenched fabric of your panties. You felt him smirk against your mouth as you squirmed beneath him.

“Fuck, how long have you been this wet for me?” He asks as his hand slips inside your underwear, index and middle finger circling your throbbing clit. You bite back a small whimper as your nails dig into his broad shoulders, tearing his pink uniform under their grasp. “Three months”, you breathe, and you immediately feel his hand stutter against you. “Fuck.” Is all he says before immediately shoving two fingers inside of your aching cunt, “we’d better change that.”

In one swift motion he wraps your legs around his waist, groaning as your hand trails down his chest to palm and grope him through his jeans. — It felt almost like a fever dream, having the guy you had fantasized about for so long right in front of you, his fingers knuckle-deep into your core as he drew lewd moans from you.

When he pulls himself free from his pants, you gulp as you take in the size of him. Sure you had expected him to be big, given his height, but this was… He quickly catches on to your hesitation as his lips part, “if you don’t want-” — “It’s fine”, you give him a reassuring smile which he reciprocates before lining himself up, only to be stopped by you once more.

“Do you have a condom?”

He freezes, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess his answer. A small silence falls over the two of you, the sounds of your heavy breaths filling the storage unit. Soobin clears his throat, awkwardly readjusting the grip on his cock as his gaze avoids yours. “Maybe we should..” he trails off but you don’t need to hear the rest in order to know what he was thinking. But come on, you had waited three months for this. You couldn’t just let the opportunity slip through your fingers just like that.

“No, it’s fine. You’ll just pull out, yeah?”

His eyes snap up to meet yours the second those words leave your lips. “Yeah.” He agrees, his free hand wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer, the tip of his cock sliding against your folds, nudging your clit in a way that almost made you squeal. “I’ll pull out”, he mumbles, more to himself than you before slowly easing himself inside.

The stretch was near torturous and your nails practically tore his shirt in half as you braced yourself against him. “You okay?” He sounds almost alarmed but your quick nod makes him relax. — Once fully inside of you, he stays unmoving, littering you in soft kisses, trailing from your jaw down your neck and collarbone. His fingers twist at the small lace, neatly sewed into your pink uniform. “You look so pretty in this”, he sighs against your skin, inhaling the perfume you always used, the one that always seemed to get his mind to wander whenever you were around.

He moves slowly, his thrusts deliberate as his cock slides against every inch of you and you whine in ecstasy. The dull burn flaring within you was now replaced by an almost addicting sensation. “Fuck, you’ve really got to stop bending over the counter like that, anyone could see up your skirt”, he grunts, snapping his hips against yours, making your eyes roll back as your jaw slacks.

“R-Really?” You stammer, though you knew exactly what you were doing as you so often would purposefully lean forward enough to where you felt your clothes lift, hoping that he would see. Originally, it had been for your own pleasure, not thinking that Soobin was actually going to pay attention to your subtle movements. But he did, he picked up on every single one of them.

“Yeah”, he drawls, upping his pace as the hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer. “God you don’t know how many times I’ve had to jack off in the bathroom to the thought of you.” — “Fuck, is that weird to say?” He wonders, and you shake your head, gasping as his thumb rubs against your clit. “N-Not at all”, you whine, thighs squeezing around his waist as you clenched on his cock, making his breath hitch.

“Mhn, I.. I do too”, you shyly admit, catching the smirk that etched its way to his face in a mere second as he pressed his lips to yours. “That’s so fucking hot”, he groans into your mouth. The kiss quickly grows sloppy and wet, his thrusts transitioning into uneven and jagged jerks of his hips. — “I won’t forgive myself if I don’t have you cumming on my cock.” He states, pulling your lip between his teeth as he refocuses his attention to his fingers on your clit.

Up until this point you had thought that this might as well all just have been one big dream. A big prank that your far too imaginative mind was trying to pull on you. But as your orgasm washes over you, your throbbing cunt clenching around Soobin’s cock, undoubtedly buried deep inside of you, you realize that this was most definitely not a dream. His name falls from your lips as your nails cause rippings to the pink fabric of his work uniform. Somewhere in the background you can hear him uttering small words of praise, the sound is muffled by the feeling of euphoria coursing through you like electric shockwaves.

With a small hiss, he pulls out, and your hand reaches for him before you have the chance to think twice. Wanting, no needing, to feel him between your fingers, your fingers that barely manage to wrap around his cock. You pay the wicked smirk on his face no mind as you stroke him to his high, letting him soil your work attire without as much as a second thought. Hot liquid landing on both your hand and stomach as Soobin groans into the juncture of your neck.

Once you’ve both regained your composure, he pulls back to look at you. From his dazed expression to the way his blonde hair stuck to his forehead, or his wet lips as they stretched into a grin, you found him to be more handsome than ever. — His gaze drops to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes, the tip of his ears turning pink as he clears his throat.

“So uh, think I can get your number?”

taglist ✎... @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @hyukaa @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @369girlswannadrinkwine @gudboibeomgyu @flowzel @lit1esec @hwanghyunjinismybae @inkigayocamman @sthwaaberry @izzyy-stuff @silentisle @unknowzzn

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#beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin smut #binnie's dreams #Choi Soobin x reader #Choi Soobin x you #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios

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saturnville · 6 months ago

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centavito, jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x she (black fem oc/reader) warning: none. just short. content: he wants her back and the chance is small, but he bets on his lucky coin that it'll work in his favor. song reference: centavito by romeo santos. an: it's been over 6 years since I wrote a football-related fic, so please give me some grace lol. and ofc, when I saw that there weren't many jude fics with a black reader/oc, I had slide one in there.

“I learned my lesson and I have been miserable without you. Please…one more chance.”

The coin he twirled in his pocket was warm. His hands had fisted it tightly the entire walk to her front door. When he spoke, he turned it between his index finger and thumb over and over. There was only one way that it could go and that was up. So he hoped.

She heard the voice of her grandmother in her ears as he took in his words. “If he fools you once, that’s on him! But, if he fools you again, he can’t be solely responsible. So, some people do change and I’m not gonna tell you he hasn’t, but it’s up to you to discern that for yourself, baby.”

He didn’t cheat on her. He wasn’t mean, conniving, or deceitful. He simply didn’t appreciate her. When his life turned upside down and he became the wonder boy of the world, he forgot about her. She was pushed into the shadows when he promised she’d always be in the light.

Suddenly, her rants about university exams and assignments weren’t interesting. Her love for the arts wasn’t fascinating. Long nights watching La Casa de Papel in her living room weren’t fun. Their nights in the kitchen trying new recipes were no longer a priority. She was no longer a priority.

So, she left. She slid the promise ring off her middle finger, dropped it on his nightstand, and with tears in her eyes (and her head held high), she gathered her purse and went back to her apartment. She gathered all he’d gifted her and placed it in the box meticulously. Clothes and jerseys, books and letters--all prepared to be put into storage until she figured out where she truly wanted them to go.

And just as she prepared to move the boxes into the storage unit after they’d sat in her bedroom corner for 17 days (yes, she counted), he was on the other side of the door, stopping her in her tracks.

He looked fatigued, which could be credited to being a high-profile professional athlete, or as he put it, “Sleepless nights without you.”

At that moment, he appeared so small. Not physically, per se, but emotionally. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, were dull and glossy with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Regret?

And when he spoke, he sounded like a chile who was trying not to choke over his words as he fought back tears.

“Jude…” she said quietly, blinking back tears. Her hand was still tight around the door knob. “I don’t know.” She wanted him, sure, but she wasn’t willing to put herself in the position through an even worse heartbreak. But, at the same time, she believed what she’d said.

“I’ll be better for you. I can’t lose you forever. One more chance, darling…please.” She’s never heard him beg in such a way. It made her insides stir.

Her jaw shifted as her eyes darted across his face, searching for any hint of dishonesty. Nothing or the sort. His eyes spoke what his mouth didn’t and it overwhelmed her greatly. I’m sorry, darling.

“You love me?” she questioned after some time, her thick eyebrows furrowing. She wiped away the fallen tear that sped down her cheek.

Jude nodded quickly. “I do. More than you know and more than I’ve shown you.”

Her eyes moved quickly—she was thinking. He continued to fiddle with the coin in his pocket. Except his movements grew quicker as the anticipation grew.

“One chance,” she said after some time. “And you earn it.”

Jude released the breath he was unaware he held and thanked the heavens above. Slowly, she moved out of the way to allow his entrance into her apartment. He closed the door behind him and pulled the coin from his pocket. Heads.

He smiled small. Little cent. The odds were finally in his favor.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jb5 #bellingham x reader

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vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

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More than Friends

Pairing: Tup x Reader

Word Count: 1643

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff, you have been warned, also mention of a previous abusive relationship.

Prompt: "We could be more, if you want."

A/N: Once more, I'm ignoring the list of prompts I need to write, as well as the request I have, for a different clone. Sorry not sorry.

Divider by Saradika

“Thanks for helping, Tup,” You say cheerfully as your best friend places the final box on the floor of your living room, “I definitely would not have been able to afford the moving company.” You joke as you move between the stacks of boxes, making sure they’re all sorted properly.

“Well, you did promise me food and alcohol,” Tup replies as he organizes some of the boxes, “Plus, it got me out of today’s training.”

“Happy to help,” You grin at him, and step over a tightly rolled rug to join him in the kitchen. And then you lean against the counter and look at the stacks of boxes, “So. Where should we start?”

He leans against the counter next to you, “Mm. Kitchen, and then bedroom. That way if we don’t finish today, you’ll be able to eat and sleep.”

You flash a grateful smile up at him, and then lean against him comfortably, “What would I do without you, Tup?”

“Still be unloading your storage unit,” He counters with an answering grin as he reaches up and lightly tugs on the tips of your hair. “Come on, we’d better get to work.”

You sigh and allow your forehead to thump against his shoulder for a moment, and you smile when you feel his gentle touch on the top of your head. And then you pull back, “Alright. Same box or different boxes?”

“Different. It’ll go faster.” He pushes a box over to you, and then walks over to one of the taller boxes.

Several hours later, with your kitchen and bedroom unpacked, and the living room mostly unpacked, you flop onto your bean bag with a sigh. “I’m never moving again.”

The massive bean bag dips as Tup flops next to you, “Like, from the pillow or to a different house?” He jokes.

“Both,” You reply, turning your head to look at him with a fond smile, and then you laugh quietly, and roll onto your side. You reach out and lightly tug on one of his curls, “Your hair is falling down, Tup.”

“Well, I have been moving around a lot,” He says defensively, as he sits up and pulls his hair out of his bun and combs his fingers through his hair.

“You have, and I appreciate it,” You answer soothingly, reaching for his hair tie. “Here, let me braid your hair.”

Tup pauses, and then he presses the hair tie into your hands, “You are very good at braiding.” He agrees as he moves to sit on the floor in front of you.

“I had a lot of practice braiding my doll's hair growing up,” You say brightly as you lightly comb Tup’s hair with your fingers, and split it into sections.

“Ah, so that's the trick.” Tup’s eyes close as you start gently braiding his hair, “So, I have a question,” He says after a moment.

“What’s up?”

“Is it my fault that you and your boyfriend broke up?” Tup asks, without opening his eyes.

Your fingers pause for a moment, “Of course not,” You lie, “We just grew apart, that’s all.”

“...you’re a terrible liar.” He says with a sigh, “What caused the problem?”

“Apparently I’m ‘too close’ to you.” You roll your eyes, “He was jealous, possessive, and insecure, and I’m sure the break up would have happened anyway.”

Tup tilts his head slightly, “Possessive?”

“Yeah. He didn’t want me talking to you, or anyone with a Y chromosome. Or my family.” You reply easily as you tie off the braid, “There, done.”

Tup runs his hand down the braid, and then turns to look at you, something grim in his eyes, “He was trying to isolate you?”

You smile at him fondly, “So it would appear,”

“Cyare, why didn’t you tell me?” Tup asks, a frown crossing his face.

You laugh quietly and reach out to lightly cup his face with your hands, “Because I know you, Tup. If I told you, you’d get that look on your face, the same one you have right now, and then I’d have to bail you out of prison.” You pause, “Which I would, because you’re my best friend and I love you, but it would still be annoying.”

Tup blinks at you, and then he flashes a slow smile, “You’d bail me out of jail?”

“Well, yeah. Of course.” You absently stroke his cheek, “Besides, he did a shit job at isolating me.”

“Yeah, because I came to your place and you were so happy to see me that you tackled me.” Tup jokes.

“I-”

“You knocked me over.”

“...I did do that, didn’t I?”

“It was impressive. I was impressed.” Tup continues with a growing grin as he taps your hands, and you drop them from his face, “Your ex was much less so.”

“Well…I never hugged him like that, I suppose.” You admit.

Something gleeful dances across Tup’s face for a moment, “Good.”

You laugh and flop back on the beanbag, “You’re so petty sometimes, Tup!”

He watches you with a fond smile on his face, “Well, I’m allowed.” He moves back to the beanbag, flopping next to you, “You know it wouldn’t have worked, right?”

“Hm?”

“Him trying to isolate you.” Tup clarified, “If you think, for a moment, that I wouldn’t drag an entire squad of my brothers to rescue you-”

You grin at him and shift to drop your head on his shoulder, “My own personal knight in shining armor.”

He turns to look at you, something warm and soft in his gaze. His hand comes up to brush some of your hair out of your face. His fingers linger on your cheek for a moment, and he exhales slowly. He opens his mouth to say something, hesitates, and then flashes a rueful smile, “You owe me food, cyare.”

You grin at him, “Alright, alright. What do you want?” You ask as you sit up.

“Does that Mandalorian place deliver?”

“I think so. I’ll check.” You stand and walk over to the kitchen to grab your datapad, opening it and scrolling through the app.

Tup remains laying on the beanbag for a moment longer. He sighs quietly and presses the side of his fist against his forehead, his eyes squeezing shut. And then he gets to his feet and walks over to the kitchen.

“So, it looks like they do deliver, but we have to order a lot of food.” You say as he joins you, “So I was thinking that we could get appetizers, an entree, a dessert, and the drinks I promised you.”

“Sounds good,” Tup replies as he leans against the counter, and then he places his hand on the datapad and gently tugs it out of your hands, “So…I was wondering if we could talk?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes? Er…maybe.”

“...well, it does have to be one of those options, I suppose.” You reply, looking concerned, “What’s wrong?”

He takes your hands, slowly threading your fingers with his, “I really hated your ex.” Tup explains slowly.

“I know Tup. You weren’t exactly subtle-”

“No, I-” He sighs, and squeezes your hands, “I need you to listen to me, please?”

“Of course. You have my undivided attention.” You rub soothing circles on Tup’s hand.

“I really hated your ex even before you told me that he was trying to isolate you,” Tup explains slowly, “Because I’ve been in love with you for two years.”

“You-”

“Let me finish, please.” You close your mouth, and he inhales sharply, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I can go out and do my job as well as I can because I know that you’re here, safe, and waiting for me to come back. When I wake up every morning, you’re the first thought that crosses my mind, and you’re the last thing I think of before I go to sleep.” He speaks quickly, his grip on your hands tight, and his gaze searching your face for something, “And I know that we’re best friends, have been best friends for years. But-” He hesitates for a moment, “We could be more, if you want.”

You stare at him, your eyes wide. You slowly pull one hand out of his tight grip and you reach up and you very gently place your hand on his cheek, “You really think about me all the time?”

“How could I not?”

You smile, soft and gentle, “I would like more.”

“...you would?” Tup asks, lightly tugging you closer and slowly pressing his forehead against your own.

“Well yeah. It’s you Tup. It’s always been you.” You smile softly, “I’m just kind of blind sometimes. Will you ask me, properly I mean?”

He smiles then, wide and bright, “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, his voice low and breathy.

“Yes,” The rest of your sentence is stolen, as his lips press against yours in a gentle kiss. His lips are warm and soft, and his grip around you firm and comforting at the same time.

He slowly pulls back and presses his forehead lightly against yours again. Tup has a bright grin on his face, “So…did your ex break up with you because you’re in love with me.” He asks, his tone light and teasing.

“That…might have been mentioned, yes.” You admit sheepishly.

His grin grows, “You still owe me food, cyare.”

You huff, though there’s no annoyance on your face, “I suppose this will be our first date, then?”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Tup leans in and kisses you again and again. “I’ll…go back to unpacking.” He kisses you one last time, and then releases you to return to the stacks of boxes still in the living room. You watch him for a moment, a smile on your lips, and then you finally turn back to ordering your dinner.

#star wars #tcw #Clone trooper tup x reader #tup x reader #x reader fanfiction #star wars fanfiction

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stevenbasic · 1 year ago

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GITJ Post 333: A Saturday at Melissa's, p8 (6pm, Lakshmi)

“Hi there,” I said, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth drop seeing me, standing there in Melissa’s downstairs bathroom, my leggings pulled down past my bottom. Instead of screaming and panicking like I would have done just three months ago if a boy walked in on me changing, I just stood there. I was calm, and I let him look at me. I had nothing to be embarrassed about. I was proud of my body, and how it was changing, what it was becoming.

“Oh my god I’m s-sorry!” he blurted, but I stopped him with a word as he moved to close the door again.

“No, stop,” I said, and immediately he did. He froze in his tracks for me. “It is okay, I am just changing.” I stood there longer, I did not move. His eyes went back to my behind, I watched him, and I smiled. “You can stay and watch if you want.”

“y-yeah no…I was just trying to…but I don’t have a suit…” The poor thing sounded confused and lost. He obviously needed someone to help him again, but even after what we had done together this week, he was still shy.

“You were trying to find a place to change, too?” I asked patiently. He nodded, and I knew I should not laugh. I could barely believe that this was Dr. J, my boss for these past years, and this was me. And it had come to be like this. He was like a little boy who just walked in on his mommy’s friend in the bathroom. He looked so embarrassed. “Why don’t you go find the other ladies, they are in the pool. They can help.”

He looked at me - not my bum, haha, but in my eyes in the mirror this time - and left. He had listened to me. Good boy.

We were going swimming! Like many of the others, I had not known this house had an indoor pool and did not come prepared. But after a few glasses of afternoon wine from the cellar we figured it would be fun! With Dr. J, now awake and fed I had the chance to pick out an old swimsuit of Melissa’s from the stash we had found in storage, in the basement. Her mom had kept bins of them from Melissa’s teen years. I chose a pretty blue one-piece that looked like it might fit around my bust (now that I am so much bigger up there than I was haha) but oh my goodness the buttttt….

…

“C’mon in Lakshmi we’re teaching him to swim..!”

It was so nice, Melissa’s mother’s house. I mean, my family’s home was nice too, my father had made good money since coming to the United States. But it was not like this, not this big, not this modern and elegant. And we certainly did not have an indoor pool! Melissa’s mother must be very wealthy and successful to afford this house, much more so than my father. She kept everything perfect and beautiful, and this pool area was not an exception. It was a large, glassed-in enclosure, with plants and furniture and nice lighting. A big rock formation took up one part of one wall, bringing an earthy, natural vibe to the whole environment . It was warm, even in November, and above the chlorine I could sense the girls had already filled it with our perfumes. Melissa hadn’t arrived yet - she said she would be coming with Shanette when they were done shopping - but there were many of us here already, both on the pool deck relaxing, sitting on the pool’s edge, and in the water itself.

I smiled in greeting at the group drinking wine in the lounge chairs as I made my way into the big indoor pool room. I caught myself laughing, seeing it. Some girls were on the pool deck, relaxing, but Josie, Randi and the two desk girls Bobbi and Brittni had Dr. J in the pool, in the deeper end. They were…giving him swimming lessons?

“He says he used to be able to swim?” Brittni said. She was wearing a brief yellow bikini. “But look-“

I took my first step into the pool and watched as Brittni, who had been holding Dr. J under the armpits, pushed him away from her. She was in water shallow enough for her to stand, but apparently too deep for Dr. J. He had become smaller, recently, the poor thing, while Brittni and Bobbi were each probably 5’8” at this point., just like me. We all watched as he started to flounder, beating awkwardly at the water with his hands and arms. I felt my own heart flutter in a protective reflex, and took another two quick steps down the pool stairs, but he was quickly rescued by Bobbi, who took him underneath the arms again. Her bikini matched her friend’s; the two looked nearly like twins, and their hair looked darker than I remembered.

“Tell Lakshmi what you told us,” called Randi, who was treading water in the deepest area of the pool. Her smile was really big, really white. She looked to be wearing a black bikini, big breasts buoyant.

Now secure in Bobbi’s arms, Dr. J looked sheepishly over at me as I slowly waded into the water. “Y-yeah I used to be able to, but now I can’t…” he said, his voice so delightfully reticent, like an embarrassed little boy.

“Yeah he’s lost the ability to swim,” Randi purred, in her smoky voice.

Coos and clucks greeted that, coming from all over the big warm room. “That’s sooo adorable, isn’t it?” burst Aubrey, who was sitting on the pool’s edge, quiet to this point. Her long legs kicked lazily into the water, and a black one-piece clung to her surprisingly dramatic, elegant curves. She looked at Dr. J with a warm, protective gaze that made me feel a nice attachment to her. In response, Dr. J had hid his face, tucking his chin to his chest.

Oooo!

Was he giving us the impression that he was a weak, vulnerable man on purpose? Did he want to look like someone who needed the protection of women? The way he clung to Bobbi’s arms, a young bosomy girl who held him out of the water for his safety, certainly made it seem that way. Maybe it was our perfumes that were doing this to him, or maybe he wanted us to pamper and parent him like a crowd of swimsuit aunties. Because if that was what he was trying to get us to do…he was doing a pretty good job of it!

“Let’s see him try again, He’s so cute when he struggles,” <video link, sound on!> Katie said, leaning over the pool in her blue bikini. I watched his eyes go up to her, from down below in the pool. He looked stunned, and I could not blame him. She is so pretty, with her blonde hair and makeup perfect even on a casual night like this. All the girls, in fact, looked amazing. I could not believe these were my friends. “Go ahead, sweetie, try to swim,” she urged, “you’re going to do great.”

I watched, we all watched, as Bobbi held him, and then talked gently in his ear, readying him to try to paddle across the pool again. Brittni held her arms out, expectant. “Come on, little guy, come on…” she cooed, “Come to Brittni.”

Another chorus of ‘awwwwwws..!’ came from the group of us as he tried the best he could to doggie-paddle his way to the curvy dark-haired girl. He panted and struggled, and after Brittini took a step or two closer, he finally reached her. We all cheered.

“Yayyyy..!”

“So good, sweetie!”

“Oh my gosh you’re swimming!”

“Maybe we should get him some floaties,” drawled Amelia, who was inspecting her nails at the pool’s edge, seated on a lounger.

Everyone watched, and chatted, and talked and drank wine and I joined in on the lesson, helping him when he needed to stay afloat. From time to time he would cling to me. His little muscles would tire from all the exercise, and I held him so he could have a rest. His skin felt so good against mine and I could feel his ribs press against my breasts. I made sure to talk gently to him, as I could tell he was still embarrassed. At one point I let him go, to hold onto the wall in the shallow end so I could take a glass of wine from Katie, who offered me one from across the pool.

“That suit look sooo nice on you, Kiki,” Josie complimented me...

”The color is really pretty? That nice blue?” said Bobbi.

”Don’t you think so Dr J?” asked Brittni.

I could feel his eyes on my bottom as I was reaching for the wine glass. My butt had gotten so big that I knew it must be bursting out the behind. Melissa had been a curvy teen, I am sure, but my butt was obviously way bigger than hers when she fit into this suit! Dr. J was having a hard time looking away from me, but soon his attention was torn elsewhere. Looking up, I saw that Katarina was at the glass door which led from the main living area's great room into the pool. Someone had maybe locked it and she was knocking, and pressing her big boobs into the glass, trying to get in. A big smile was on her face, and her breasts looked enormous in a bikini of midnight blue, pancake-squashed up against the slider. “Let me in..!” she called, voice muffled by the glass. She then planted a big kiss on the floor-to-frame pane.

“Haha okay okay hold on you impatient Polish milf!” said Randi as Katarina pulled away a bit, leaving a huge pucker lipstick mark where her kiss had been, “Those milkers might just bust right through!” Randi had moved to unlock the door and finally Katarina stepped back, to allow it to slide open. Two big, moist mammary-marks remained for a moment, before slowly fading.

“Oh my god Katarina look at you!” Josie laughed, as she stared at the blonde’s overly ample chest.The tall, Eastern European woman stepped into the pool area, sliding the door closed behind her.

“Sorry, I had call husband, at home,” Katarina said, apologizing for having stepped away, “He nervous with babies.” She was thin, but as a new, nursing mother her breasts were humongous and she knew it “Yes Josephine, I pump earlier. I fill all bottles I bring. But look, so swollen again! It like they know someone hungry.”

I could not help but look over at Dr. J who, from the side of the pool, starred up in awe at Katarina. The poor thing. We all know how he is, and being surrounded by a bevy of us like this must be so hard on him. Everywhere he turned there was something or someone curvy. His employees, his assistants, his secretaries and helpers, here in weekend mode, relaxed and casual and all in swimsuits must have been quite the test.

Brittni and Bobbi, in fact, looking like twin sisters in their matching bikinis, were moving back across the pool to him. It was cute, watching his eyes bulge, and then them squish him between themselves…

Maybe it was all the wine, or something in the air, but the girls (myself included haha!) were all being so affectionate with him. And the best thing? He was letting us! It was like he had given in, relaxed, and just let himself enjoy the attention. There was no sense of jealousy among us, there was no thought that we were doing something we shouldn’t. Melissa loved us, she loved him, we all loved one another. There was a new feeling of family that had grown strong and warm. I watched him smile awkwardly, sandwiched between the B-girls, and felt my heart open tenderly. He is ours to protect and care for, I could feel it, and we could do such a good job!

The girls played with him in the water some more, giggling, and Josie and I sat together in the hot tub and poured each other wine. Josie was making fun of how frizzy my hair got, around the pool -

- so mean haha! After some time there was a buzz in the air - an actual buzz! - and we could tell Melissa was soon to arrive. We all became giddy and when she appeared in the doorway, the glass sliding open, many of us gasped

She was so beautiful.

“Oh good, Mommy’s home!” Josie sang.

She stepped in, casual as can be somehow, even as all eyes were drawn magnetically to her. Looking tall, taller than I ever remember seeing her from my seat in the tub, she was absolutely the queen in this castle. If all the girls looked pretty in their swimsuits, Melissa was no less than a bikini goddess built of pure curves that boggled minds. She strode in wearing ribbed swim top of navy blue with a thin, white towel around her womanly hips, ready to swim. Her legs were long, shapely and muscular, her waist and abdominals trimly and impossibly fit.

“Jesus Missy, look at you,” Amelia said, uncharacteristically stunned. Melissa’s curves, her musculature, her long limbs and perfect skin seemed to call to mind something more than human.

“Wow Miss,” Katie said, echoed by Randi. Others - Aubrey, Katarina, the B-girls and myself - were speechless. How could a human be so perfect?

Melissa smiled and her eyes sparkled in the dim light, but that was all the acknowledgment she gave us. She seemed focused on one thing. “How’s my baby?” she spoke, eyes on Dr. J where he was held up in the far end of the pool by Brittni and Bobbi. As Melissa slowly stepped in, towards the pool steps, her gaze was fixed the whole time.

“We measured him today,” Josie called out from beside me, “he’s lost a couple more inches.”

We watched as, casually, Melissa loosened the towel and let it drop from her hips to the floor, just before the steps. Some of us gasped again as now she was fully on display, with brief bikini bottoms baring bountiful hips. From our angle in the hot tub, Josie and I had a view of her bottom, which was huge and magnificent.

“Is that right, sweetie?” Melissa asked him, as her first toes entered the water, “You got measured?”

“Yeah puppy tell her how tall you are now,” Randi spoke, as she walked over towards us, approaching the hot tub. ‘Puppy’? That was a new term. I liked it!

Eyes in the room were now on Dr. J, still held up between the B-girls, their big breasts squashed into either side of him. His jaw was ajar, and his eyes glazed.

“C’mon spill it,” Amelia groaned, feigning her typical disinterest but brilliant blue eyes full of intelligence. We all felt it, how primal this moment was. “Tell us all your height., we forget. And Missy needs to know.”

Melissa started to wade into the pool taking one step and then another as she slowly walked towards him. Her eyes were gleaming now and still locked on his, keeping his gaze with her crooked smile. But she didn’t say a word, letting us urge him to speak.

“Tell her, Dr. J,” Aubrey teased.

“Yeah sweetie it’s okay,” I heard myself say.

“I’m 4'10”,” he blurted, voice cracking adorably but carrying enough for Melissa to hear. Her smile widened as we all sighed, and then deepened as she began to close the distance between them. The water parted for her, making way as her large body pushed waves to ripple across the pool’s surface. Three-plus feet of water came barely up to her bottom, but every step she took brought her deeper.

Just then, aside me, Josie spoke up. “ooooooo and chocolate mommy too!”

“‘Chocolate Mommy?’” said Shanette, who had just stepped into the room, “for real?” Greetings were called out, and Shanette slid the door closed behind herself, sealing us all in once again. She, too, was in a swimsuit, and had breasts that rivaled Katarina’s in size. She said hellos, smiling at us each as she set a new bottle of wine down on a poolside table. Then she looked at Dr. J, still in the B-girls’ arms. The platinum blonde Katie had drifted alongside them. “So it looks like someone here has a little harem, doesn’t he?” Shanette asked.

That brought a titter of giggles from the girls in the pool, hands brushing his thin chest.

“A harem, hm?” Melissa purred, one brow cocked as she still approached the little group in the deeper water, closing the distance slowly, “Who else is coming?”

“Oh, a few more people, I forget,” Josie answered, “We invited most everyone.”

“Angie? Cici?” someone asked.

“Does they even still work here?” Randi posited. It was an honest question; no one could remember seeing them, recently though in fact neither had missed a day of work,, “Who’s Cici again?” Some had even forgotten their names.

“Well, you have lots of girls tonight,” Melissa concluded, “What a lucky little man.” She sounded amused, tolerant, advancing on them. From behind her I watched as she took a moment to gather up her thick dark hair, pinning it up. I admired the musculature of her back and shoulders. “Well, that’s nice honey, I’m glad all my friends are here,” she said, having come close enough to reach out to him, “but Wifey’s home now.”

The girls all giggled again.

”Come here,” she purred, a deep satisfaction in her voice as the B-girls gently let him go, as Melissa’s hands reached under his thin arms and took him from their curvy bodies, “Mommy wants to say hello to daddy.”

We all, fixated, cooed and clucked our approval, watching Melissa bring him to herself, as the girls stepped back. She tucked him onto her side, settling him on her left hip, smiling tenderly. He found his legs curled around her waist underwater, his arms thrown about her long, graceful neck above. Their gazes were locked into each other, and the moment was so romantic! She started to slowly walk him around the pool.

“Oh, Missy, this is so adorable,” someone said.

It gave all of us a deep satisfaction to see them together, like all was right again in the world. Something in the air - not just the warm water - heated our blood, brought pleasure to us. His erection pushed into her side; it was like we could all feel it.

“Mmmm what are you wearing, honey?” we heard her purr. Her eyes were heavy lidded, enjoying the moment herself.

“I, uh, didn’t have a suit…” he answered sheepishly.

“We let him swim in his boxers,” Aubrey offered.

“Yeah he was too shy to go naked,” Randi said.

“Oh we can fix that,” Melissa smiled, and then pressed her lips firmly against his own.

We saw as the surprise almost caused him to recoil but Melissa’s lips seemed to draw him in. They engulfed his mouth and took hold of his face. She was in charge of their kissing, it was easy to see, and he passively allowed her to swallow him down into it. He looked blissful, held and kissed by his lover, and it made my thighs shiver imagining what they both must be feeling. He didn’t even notice as they lazily walked to the shallows, up the stairs and then back down into the attached hot tub, to be bathed in the warmth of it with Josie and me. We cooed to them in greeting but he seemed unaware that we were even there, so consumed by her kiss he was. All he knew was that when her lips released him he had no strength left and could only let Melissa support him as she now sat on the cement bench which circled the inside of the tub. She settled his smaller body on her lap, supporting him with her strong arms.The feeling of his body relaxing on her own was obviously both soothing and exciting for them both.

Melissa released him from her kiss, and looked deep down into his fluttering eyes. I realized that none of us had said anything for quite some time.

Shanette was first to speak; she was standing on the steps of the main pool, behind Melissa. “What did we talk about, Missy?” she asked,

At that, as if reminded of something, Melissa giggled and, with one hand still supporting his back, lowered the straps of her bikini partway down her shoulders. Dr. J’s eyes immediately went to her chest and she, gathering her shoulders, bulged her enormous breasts together, causing them to balloon upwards and him to moan. They were right in front of his face, and looked big enough to swallow his head.

“That’s right, go to mama,” I heard Shanette whisper.

“oh my god…” he breathed, despite himself.

“That’s right, she’s so big, isn’t she Dr. J?” Randi purred, walking towards us on the deck.

Dr. J moaned again.

“Weekend daddy is so much more fun than work daddy,” Josie giggled, turning a bit towards the couple, from their right. I sat across the tub, just watching as Dr. J’s eyes drifted to Josie. She wore a black string bikini, tied around her neck, and looked really pretty.

“He is more fun,” Randi said, as she slid into the tub with us, behind Dr. J and to Melissa’s left, “Maybe we shouldn’t let him go to work anymore.”

“Ooo yeah!” Josie squealed.

That brought a giggle from Melissa. “Would you like that?” she asked him, bouncing him a little in her lap with her large, muscular thighs, “If I kept you here as a stay-at-home husband?” Was she joking? Or was she serious? Haha oh my god!

“Yeah he could cook and clean for you,” Randi offered.

“I’d pay to see him in an apron,” said Amelia, who had stood, strolled our way with her wine.

“Oh no no no…” Melissa laughed, jostling him again on her lap, “I’d do all that. That’s Wifey’s job. This house is too big for daddy.” She knew where his eyes were fixed, staring at her breasts as they jiggled in her navy blue bikini top. “And we can’t have him all tired when mommy gets home…”

”Yeah mommy has needs!” Josie giggled.

I watched Melissa’s hand reach down between his legs.

“Oh I do, I do…” she agreed, groaning, as if overcome by the feel of him in her grip, “Omigosh, you have no idea.” She smiled as we all watched as his whole body stiffened, for a moment, feeling her big hand take hold of him underwater.

“You’re so hard for her aren’t you, baby?” Shanette purred, from where she stood nearby in the main pool by the steps. The shallows were part way up her brown thighs.

“Oh he is,” Melissa returned, smiling, watching his face. “Josie, Randi, Ki…is it okay if I…take care of him? Under the water?” she asked, “You guys can step out if it’s-“

“No, please go ahead!” Josie blurted, as Randi just chuckled.

“yes oh my,” I agreed, nearly speechless, my eyes feeling as wide as Josie’s. Melissa was going to do it here, right now, in the hot tub with the warm water and all of us in it? Oh my god I felt my mouth dry up, my thighs tingle again like I wanted it in me.

Dr J had made some weak complaint, but Melissa’s hand was already in his boxers gripping him, pulling him free. My heart was racing, watching this as best I could; I could only see a hint of what was going on beneath the froth of the roiling water, shadows and shapes of his huge erection in her fist. He was embarrassed, we could all tell, exposed in front of us like this, but he was also already consumed by pleasure.

”shhhhh you need this…it’s okay,” Melissa was urging him, “Just relax.”

“Yeah, relax Daddy, you need this,” Josie purred, as both she and I drifted in closer, “Mommy’s taking care of you.” Aubrey had also become bold enough to slip into the tub with us, while Shanette stayed in the main pool, still turned towards us watching.

“It’s like girl soup in there, hm?” Amelia commented, sitting down on the hot tub’s edge, “I’ll put my feet in…”

“Girl soup!” Josie giggled, making me laugh too. Aubrey bobbed up and down, rolling waves through the water.

“Mmmm yum yum, right Jay?” Melissa purred, “But I think it needs one more ingredient…” At that, underwater, Melissa’s hand tugged at something and in an instant she held a torn, sodden pair of boxers above the water. She showed them to him, dripping, before dropping them into the water. They floated around the frothy surface of the hot tub, dancing with the bubbles, as her hand sunk back down between his legs.

”Oooo…” Josie giggled, “boxers and boy-juice…”

”Yeah make him come,” Aubrey then bluntly added, her eyes wide and fixed as she still bounced up and down, up and down, her own big breasts bobbing and floating, jiggling, water streaming off them in rivulets.

“Omigod please yes,” I heard myself moan, imagining the water around us briny, full of his seed. We would swim in it.

We watched as Melissa’s arm began to move back and forth. She was stroking him right in front of us! She’d tilted her chin up, mouth now open and expectant, eyes on his face. “Would you like that?” she asked him, “Want to help us make girl soup?”

He groaned, as Katarina slipped into the warm water with us.

Haha was mother’s milk an ingredient too? Maybe he was thinking the same thing as I watched his eyes follow her, lowering herself and her enormous breasts down until they floated buoyantly up off her thin body.

There were seven of us now in a tub made for six. Amelia and now Katie sat on the edge, with pretty feet in the foaming water of our soup, the smell of chlorine and our perfumes making the air thick along with steam from the tub. Our legs all intermingled, hands drifted. I found one of mine cupping his left ankle. We all purred, and buzzed, and cooed.

”I’ve missed you, alllll day,” Melissa said to him, as she stroked his erection underwater, “Have you missed me too?”

”Y-y-yes,” he answered, the only answer acceptable.

”He’s had a hard day without you,” Aubrey said.

“Yes he so tired,” followed Katarina.

”Well, we’ll get him out in a few minutes, dry him off, get him inside so he can rest,” Melissa agreed, still stroking. She moved her other hand from a supportive position on his back to a position behind his sodden head and neck. “Dinner and movie night with your girls, hm? Sound nice?”

“y-y-yes,” he answered again.

“But first, more kisses…”

A new chorus of awws and ahhs filled the air around the tub as Dr J. and Melissa began to kiss again, her neck twisted down so her mouth could take his. Her right arm still moved in the same rhythm, as she tended to him below the surface, and we all saw his body first stiffen with the shock of the kiss, then start to shudder. Her mouth was so much bigger than his, and watching them kiss was thrilling. His breathing matched hers, his thin chest collapsing in on itself when she pulled breath from his lungs.

”Omigod Missy it looks like you’re sucking the life out of him!” Josie laughed.

Giggling, Melissa broke their kiss for a moment, allowing his head to loll back like a rag doll’s. “Maybe I am!” she beamed, once again taking his head from behind into her hand. She leaned back, and kissed him again, her ministrations to his manhood now taking on greater urgency.

“Take it from him,” someone groaned. Maybe it was me.

“He is look so tired,” said Katarina, whose hand had begun stroking his left thigh, her big breast pressed down onto his knee.

“He’s had a big day,” Aubrey confirmed, watching the kiss, biting her lip as he began to shake.

“So big,” I said.

“It’s about to get even bigger,” Amelia commented, from the tub’s edge,as he really began to shake, “Josie, show him.”

At that, knowing exactly what our blonde friend meant, Josie put her breasts right beside his face. As he was kissing Melissa, his eyes turned to see her chest and goggle at them as they were nearly close enough to touch his face. Melissa’s hand was now moving more urgently under water, and he would be staring right at Josie’s breasts when he-

“That’s right, come for us,” Melissa purred.

He groaned, he moaned, he spasmed and jerked in Melissa’s embrace as, obviously, under the water he began to climax. I looked down and could see the ropey fluid, the thick semen jetting from his outsized manhood, swimming into the water around him and swirling into the currents, mixing with the froth and the chlorine and spiraling around. It floated, it sank, and as pulse after pulse came from him it began to eddy around the tub, among us, my eyes glazing over as I watched and…

…and then the growth began.

NNNNNnnnnghhhh….we all groaned, as the familiar feeling gripped us. Several times last night, but now stronger as we were all so close. I felt it in my bones, I felt it in my chest and in the fertile swelling of my thighs and rear. There was pain, yes, some, but it was delicious and I could see in the eyes of everyone we were all hungry for it. His eyes, in the meantime, were fixed and staring, still pasted to Josie’s breasts and - oh my god- he was watching her grow.

Yes, it was subtle, it always was. But the swelling of her breasts in her bikini top was unmistakable. She bulged at it, strings now pulling more tightly than they had before from around her neck. Soft round flesh bubbled as she grew, as they inflated. I felt it in myself, too, as did we all. And then we heard him mutter, something small, something weak, as he stared at Josie’s breasts. It was quiet…but we heard it.

“bigger…” he said.

And Melissa began laughing.

“Oh my goodness, baby, yes!” she sang, as she shifted him in her lap. Her hand moved from between his legs, the other from behind his head. She had him by the sides of his bony chest, under his arms, then shifted a bit lower down his torso. “Look at how big we’re getting!” she cooed, turning him to face the group, “You’re giving us so much!”

At that she lifted him, slowly, with strength that was in no way normal, off her lap. His hips broke the surface, and we all gasped on seeing his cock. Then his thighs, his knees. She held him, now, aloft up and in front of us, a small but fully-grown man, and she held him like he was a toy, feet dangling into the water. He was naked, and he was huge. His penis, dropped now a bit from full-mast, seemed nearly as thick as his forearm, and it was still coming as we watched, all of us with eyes wide, mouths agog, some of us laughing. He was still pulsing, semi-thick member throbbing, releasing seed. It was slowing, yes, but he had already burst forth so much of his ejaculate it had begun to cloud the water, and now drip in heavy plops onto the surface and into the soup.

As he began to come down, his climax waning, Melissa slowly lowered him again to her lap, back into the pool of his own jism.

“Holy Lion King,” Amelia managed, as we all began to recover ourselves..

“Oh my god…” Aubrey said, from behind Josie. I saw her reach down, cup some water into her hand.

“Yeah huh?” Randi smiled, eyes flashing, looking down at him. His body was still spasmodically shaking but coming to a stillness in Melissa’s arms.

Semen all in the water, Amelia couldn’t help but kick her feet through it from where she sat on the hot tub’s edge. She was chuckling. “Watch out,” she told us, as we began to come down from our high, “you’re all going to get pregnant in there.”

Someone laughed, I think it was me, and I lowered my face to the water, mouth open, to drink the soup.

===========================================

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#growing into the job

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daemour · 1 year ago

Text

Shut Up Before I Fall In Love

Pairing: Jongho x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, childhood f2l, family au

WC: 3729

Warnings: Cursing, absent family is a big part of it but not explored too much.

Summary: After you finish college, your parents ask you to move back home to help with your nephew. As much as you are bitter about your older sister dumping her child to go “find herself”, you’d do anything for little Jihoon.

When you return home, you’re surprised to see your childhood best friend, Jongho, still around, after growing up hearing him talk about how he’d love to move to America. But you won’t say no to his company.

This is written for @pirateeznet's anniversary project! My quiz result was Illusion :) Go and check out the other authors' works!

I do have an idea for a continuation of this more focused on the family part of it so if you want to see that too let me know ^^

As you leave the taxi, you hear your nephew screech your name before he can barrel himself into your legs. “Auntie!” You gasp playfully as you wrap your arms around the ball of energy clinging to you. “You’re here!”

“I am!” you cheer as you sweep the preschooler up in your arms, spinning him around once before setting him back down. “You’ve gotten so big, baby. Soon I won’t be able to pick you up anymore!” Jihoon puffs out his chest, proud of his achievement.

“Yeah! Soon I’ll pick you up instead!” You laugh, ruffling his hair. “Will you take me to the park instead of Gramma and Grampa?”

“Yes, baby. We can spend all summer together.” Jihoon cheers, his little fists pumping up in the air, and you smile at the cute action.

When you finally look up from the top of your nephew’s head, you first see your mother waving languidly and then your eyes catch on a familiar figure. “Jongho?” the name falls out of your mouth and the man in question smiles and raises a hand in acknowledgement.

“(Y/N), it’s been a while.”

Your heart is overflowing with such warmth at the familiar sight. “It certainly has been. Still in the same neighbourhood, Mr America?” you tease, grinning at the sight of Jongho’s ears turning red as he averts his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jongho rolls his eyes at your jibe good-naturedly. “I was six, dude. You’re never gonna let me live that down.”

You laugh, shoving at his shoulder. “You were six, and then you were twelve, and then you were eighteen and still talking about it. No, I will not be letting it go. But really, it’s good to see you again. Hopefully we can catch up at some point.”

Before Jongho even gets a chance to respond, Jihoon pulls at your pant leg. “Auntie, talk grown-up later! I’m more important!” At his straight-forward demand, all three of the “grown-ups” laugh and you’re quickly ushered into the house by the child, looking back and giving Jongho a quick wave. His pealing laughter follows you even after the door closes.

It’s only been about a week since you’ve returned, and it feels like both nothing and so much has changed. Your room has been changed into a storage unit and you’ve currently taken over the guest room, but the rest of the house’s layout remains unchanged save a few decor. Your mom also remains unchanged, and the only large difference is, well, the presence of Jihoon.

Every so often, you don’t expect him barreling around the corners into your knees and every time you see him, your disdain for your sister grows. It’s not his fault, and it’s definitely not her fault that the father is a deadbeat and out of the picture. And it’s not her fault that she wants to be able to have fun in life, but you also think that her time spent “finding herself” should not be spent partying it up dangerously and only showing up when she wants something from your mother. She doesn’t call him her son unless it’s to his face, but still won’t give him up for adoption for the pity points. It’s despicable in your eyes. Jihoon needs his mom but he doesn’t need your sister.

Thinking about the situation just causes you stress each day. You dropped everything to come here to care for your nephew, but she can’t even spare time to see her son win an award at his preschool. Jihoon is always asking about his mother, and neither you nor your mother has the heart to tell him the truth. Not just yet. His world is full of empty promises and you don’t know how to fix it.

Today’s another day of your mother desperately begging your sister to spend time with Jihoon and you taking the few school hours you have left to sit on the porch and contemplate life. Every so often you can hear another door slam as your mother paces from room to room and you wonder how you got here.

A gentle nudge to your shoulder makes your eyes fly open as you stare up at Jongho. “Falling asleep on the job?” he teases, a crooked smile on his face as he dodges your swat.

“It’s not a job,” you snark, even though you and Jongho know that’s a lie. “I’m just waiting for him to come barrelling down the sidewalk.”

“Spoken like a true mother hen,” Jongho laughs, and judging from his facial expressions he immediately regrets his choice of joke. You don’t point it out, however, and so neither does he. Instead, you scoot aside on the porch swing and Jongho plops down beside you.

You decide to ignore the heat of his body next to you and the press of his thighs against yours, just closing your eyes and letting your head fall against the back of the swing. A moment passes.

“What time is Jihoon’s bedtime?” The question makes your eyes open as you turn your head to look at Jongho’s soft side profile. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“How’d you know I was looking at you?” you ask without expecting an answer. “Anyways, he goes to bed around nine, why?”

Jongho still refuses to look at you and you wonder why in the back of your head. “Wanna get fries afterwards?” You raise an eyebrow at the familiar olive branch, poking at Jongho’s leg with your foot. Every time he felt like he hurt you somehow, he would always offer to buy you food, starting way back in grade school when he accidentally broke your glasses.

“Slick, dude. But yeah, I’d like to.” No more words are spoken on the matter as Jihoon runs up the driveway, just a nod and then your attention turns to the three-year-old. Once again, it’s time to forget you are your own person and become a parental figure for Jihoon. With a sigh and a shake of your head, you will those thoughts out of your head and prepare for a busy afternoon of watching Jihoon.

“Okay, I'm home free,” you announce as you come down the stairs to where Jongho is waiting with a patient smile on his face. “Let’s go get fries.”

“The usual place?” Jongho asks and you nod excitedly.

“I haven’t been to that diner in forever! Ahjussi still going strong?” Your eyes are practically sparkling at the prospect of going to the “old” spot.

Jongho smiles knowingly and that gives you the only answer you need. “And he still hates being called Ahjussi. Come on, I’ll drive.”

Excitedly, you follow him out to his old sedan, hopping into the passenger seat. “Any better at driving?” you tease and he smacks your arm without hesitation. Some things never change.

And just as you remembered, the drive takes a meagre ten minutes, most of which was you singing along badly to the radio with Jongho laughing at your pitiful attempts. Not that you were actually trying.

Giggling, the two of you stumble into the 24/7 diner, placing orders through laughter and you’re pretty sure the worker is already sick of you two. Jongho makes sure to tip her well and you ignore the warmth in your stomach again at seeing his warm smile and hearing his low ‘thanks’.

“So!” Jongho proclaims in a news anchor voice, holding his straw as a makeshift microphone, “Here we have Ms. (Y/N) (L/N), home from college! Please, update us on how your life has been in the great shining city of Seoul!”

You’re laughing too hard to answer him properly and Jongho smiles at you fondly. “You’re just as weird as I remember, huh,” you finally manage to say, wiping the tears from your eyes. “It’s been nice. I really enjoy all the little hole-in-the-wall stores I chance upon there, but it’s really fast-paced there.”

Jongho nods understandingly. “Small towns are really nice in that way. Not so much getting everywhere at all times.”

You frown, leaning forward. ‘That reminds me…why didn’t you go to America? You certainly had the grades to do it.” You didn’t mean to be direct about it, but it’s been pressing on your mind since you returned to town. “I left quickly for college, so I don’t know what was up with you for so long.”

Jongho grows silent, his eyes darting away. “It wasn’t much. I just wanted to stay instead.” But alas, Jongho can’t lie when it comes to you, and he never could. All it takes is one look from you for his resolve to fold. “I…you can’t hate me for this, okay?”

You frown, tilting your head at that. “I could never hate you, Jongho. Come on, just tell me.”

Jongho bites his lip and averts his eyes, but finally speaks. “I stayed for Jihoon.” You blink, confused, and Jongho rushes to explain himself. “You couldn’t just drop college—you were in your second year—and your mom couldn’t handle both your sister and a newborn. I didn’t want them to have to call you back if they could help it. I didn’t even apply to colleges at that point so I didn’t lose anything. I just–”

“Jongho,” you whisper, feeling your heart bloom with affection for him. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Jongho smiles weakly. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All you knew was that there was a baby, but not all the issues that came with him.”

You smile back at him, reaching out to take his hands. “I don’t hate you, you know. You’ve done so much for us, and I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like without you here. Jihoon loves you.” Jongho peeks at you and you squeeze his hands comfortingly. “Thank you for all your help.”

Jongho’s eyes are suspiciously shiny, but before anything else can happen, the girl who took your order shyly approaches the table. “Uh, I’m sorry to interrupt…but we’re closing and need to wipe down the tables.”

You and Jongho both stand up startlingly fast, averting both of your eyes in embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry. We’ll be out of your hair,” Jongho reassures before turning to you. “Let’s get you home. It’s a school night after all.”

At that, the tension is gone and you smack his bicep with a snort. “Yeah yeah, dad, let’s go home.”

When the two of you finally arrive home, you pause in the driveway. “I don’t want to go in,” you blurt out and Jongho frowns, coming up behind you. “I know I’m being dramatic, but it feels like if I go in, my life will be gone. I’m twenty-three, Jongho. I can’t be a parent. I love Jihoon but I don’t want to live my life being his mom for my sister.”

Jongho’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder. “I get it. But you know, I think you’re doing great. Jihoon will get older soon and he’ll understand. And you have me and your mom to lean on.” He squeezes your shoulder, and in typical Jongho fashion, winks to brighten up the conversation. You roll your eyes but smile at him, thankful for his comfort.

“Thanks, Jongho. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When he leaves, his words stick with you up until you get ready to sleep and lie in bed, and you dream of his warm smile.

“Fries?”

“Fries.”

Those two words became a staple of your and Jongho’s relationship. About once a week, you’d go get fries and just chill and feel like the young adults you actually are. But a new problem has occurred.

You have a crush on Jongho.

And maybe in any other circumstance, it would’ve been fine. Perhaps in a different life, you would’ve been happy with Jongho, starting a life together. But not now, not like this. Not whenever you think about having a life of your own guilt wrenches in your gut because of Jihoon.

So like any self-respecting human being would do, you start to avoid him. At first, it wasn’t an issue. You didn’t mind hanging out in groups, but you avoided one-on-one time like the plague. It helped to use Jihoon as an excuse, but sooner or later, that wasn’t going to fly.

But on a day like this, when it’s just you and your nephew, you feel at peace. Your mom is having a luncheon with her friends and Jongho is at work so you’re watching your nephew yourself, something that surprisingly doesn’t happen too often. But your mom deserves some time with her friends too and you like having alone time while Jihoon plays by himself.

The pitter-patter of his feet does not catch your attention right until he stops at your side. “Hey, auntie?” Jihoon tugs at your pant legs as you cut vegetables in preparation for lunch. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you smile at him, putting down the knife and wiping your hands on your apron as you crouch down. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Are you my mom now?” Your jaw drops and you’re pretty sure you’re not blinking because your eyes are stinging as you just stay in the same position. You both knew this question would be coming and yet weren’t expecting it at all.

“Jihoon, what do you mean by that?” You do know what he means by that but you need to get to the root of his thoughts.

Jihoon shrugs, no longer looking into your eyes as if he did something bad, and you feel guilty over your reaction although you don’t think you could’ve helped it. “My teachers always say mommies are always here and you are! So can you be my new mom?”

You try to speak but nothing but a strangled sob comes out and you clear your throat. “Jihoon, honey…it’s not quite how that works. I take care of you but I can’t be your mom.”

“Why? Grandma’s too old so it’s you!” He sounds almost angry about it and if not for the context you would laugh.

You frown as you think of the best way to explain this to someone whose knowledge of the world consists of LEGOs and Frozen. “It’s just a lot of adult problems that need to be solved first. Just like when you play with building blocks! You gotta build the bottom before the next part!”

Jihoon nods sagely. “Okay,” he agrees easily, patting you on the knee before going back to colouring pages on the couch. You’re left in the kitchen on your knees, silently letting the tears fall as your family breaks apart even more.

You want someone to come. You want your mom, you want Jongho. Distancing be damned. You just want someone. You try your best to wipe away your tears furiously when you hear the door creak open. “Uncle Jongho!”

Oh shit. You didn’t mean to actually manifest Jongho coming around, even if you knew that it was very likely that he would just go over to your place instead of heading to his own. It was almost like his own home at this point, no matter how much you and your mom tried to convince him that he didn’t have to let his life be taken up by your little family.

“Hey, kiddo,” you hear Jongho high-five your nephew and you smile despite your overflowing emotions. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

“Kitchen,” your rascal of a relative rats you out with relative ease (not that he would take that much interest in your forest fire of a crush). “She’s making lunch.”

“Thanks, kiddo.” You can practically see Jongho ruffle Jihoon’s hair, an action the toddler absolutely adores. And soon enough, his heavy footsteps make their way to where you’re standing like a buffoon.

As you’ve mentioned, you’re a self-respecting human. So self-respecting that you whirl around to hide your red eyes and overall pretty shabby appearance. “Hello, Jongho,” you greet him a little too casually and Jongho is immediately on high alert.

“What happened?” is his first question, with no hesitation whatsoever and you silently curse at how well he knows you. “Are you all right?”

“Oh yeah, I’m okay.” You’re not fooling anyone, not with a voice thick with tears and you’re refusal to turn around. “Uh…do you mind finishing up lunch for me? I think I need a moment to myself.”

“Yeah, of course…” There’s confusion and worry prevalent in his voice, and before you can escape to your room, you feel his hand grip at your shoulder as he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.

The warmth and sturdiness of his arms comforts you more than you can explain and it takes all your energy to not let the tears break free as you squeeze his waist before pulling back and sighing deeply with a whispered “thank you”. You’re still not ready to talk to him but you will never take his consideration for granted.

“Let’s talk later, okay?” Jongho raises an eyebrow and you know it’s not really a question. You can only nod and hope that you can escape the questioning for a little longer before you get your thoughts under control.

And you’re caught not two precious weeks later when Jongho corners you before you can go to bed, raising an eyebrow along with his request “fries?” and you know you can’t back out this time.

To your surprise, he doesn’t pull into a parking space, instead utilising the drive-through, before going down an old road you almost don’t remember. It’s only when you reach the destination that you remember—the open field you and Jongho used to skip classes at.

“Jongho?” you start to question but he holds up a hand.

“Not yet. Let’s set up first.”

“Set up?” Your words are stopped short when he pulls out a large picnic blanket from the backseat.

Not moments later, Jongho motions for you to come join him on the ground, smiling to himself at his little impromptu picnic. Unsure, you slowly lower yourself on the ground, and it’s only when you get comfortable he finally speaks. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

You blanch, not ready to have been called out so quickly. “What? What do you mean?” you try to defend but it comes out so squeakily that you know there’s no escaping the conversation. With another look from Jongho, you sigh. “I just needed to think over things. Nothing against you. Getting my life straight and all that.”

Jongho frowns, his concern sweet. “Is it about Jihoon?”

You almost laugh at how close and yet so far he is. “Basically. Just a lot of things adding up and I don’t know…just trying to sort through it.” It’s so hard to lie to him, even if your ability to is a little better than his. It takes everything in your willpower to not spill everything like you’re so used to doing.

Jongho tilts his head adorably and you can feel your cheeks warming up. You turn your gaze away lest you fall further. “I can help you, (Y/N). You don’t have to shoulder it all by yourself.”

Before you can stop yourself, the mental blockade falls and you blink at him, before blurting out, “Stop.” Jongho stares at you, surprised and maybe a little hurt, but your big fat mouth can’t stop moving. “Shut up before I fall in love with you, okay? It’s so hard, Jongho. I just want to be able to live without the guilt of Jihoon and eonni over my head but when you’re so perfect, so pretty and so kind it’s so damn hard to not love you.”

Jongho opens his mouth and nothing comes out and it’s only then you realise the weight of your words. “I…I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything,” you mutter, turning away in embarrassment. You didn’t mean to let it all spill out, and now what is Jongho going to think of you? You want to go home and hide under all of your blankets but the issue is Jongho is your ride home. You’re in no mood to walk and there’s no way Jongho would let you walk home either.

As you sit in awkward silence, a single fry coming into your line of vision baffles you enough to look up. Jongho sits right in front of you, his expression stone cold as he attempts to feed you a fry. When you open your mouth to question him, he just sticks the fry in your mouth. Unfortunately, he is a little too enthusiastic and basically shoves it down your throat and you cough violently.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to do it that harshly,” he panics, rummaging around the bag he brought trying to find his water bottle, and you almost laugh but choke some more instead. “Stop talking you’re making it worse!”

With some patting on the back by Jongho and an unholy amount of water, you finally manage to swallow the fry properly. “What was that for?” you croak out and it’s Jongho’s turn to look away bashfully.

“I just wanted you to shut up and stop being stupid.” Jongho scolds, his hand coming up to rest at the top of your head. You can’t help but notice the way his fingers slowly stroke at your hair. “You shouldn’t hold all that to yourself. Talk about it, you idiot. How else would I know you like me too?”

You stare at him, unblinking as you process his words. “You what?”

Jongho rolls his eyes before leaning closer so his nose almost touches yours. “I like you, you fool. Don’t feel guilty about it, idiot. Jihoon would want you to be happy, and I won’t be weird about it. I practically raised him too, you know. It hurts a little you think I wouldn’t care that much.”

You don’t know what to say to that and instead just opt for something more simple. “Can I kiss you?”

All Jongho does in answer is press his lips to yours. As soon as your faces meet, you feel the warmth in your stomach bubble up so intensely that you fear you might melt with all the love you have for him. “What did I do to deserve you?” you mumble and you can feel Jongho’s smile against your lips.

“You were you.”

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mariaofdoranelle · 8 months ago

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The Courtship Deception - Part 4: Wanderlust

Fic masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

I faded the smut to black, sorry! I’m just a gemini who talks too much, I’m doing miracles with this word count already LOL

Warnings: closed-door sexytimes

Words: 863

“You really are a prince, aren’t you?” Aelin whispered to Rowan while ushering him out of the party.

“Technically, yes, but not really.”

“How does that work?”

“It works really well after some family drama with a tabloid-obsessed aunt.”

Dodging her father’s acquaintances was easier than avoiding his men’s questioning looks. Well, that’s what happens when her father told a bunch of big guys that they’re entitled to every detail of her life: they believed it. But they wouldn’t cause a scene if she didn’t either, and that’s how she was able to move through the crowd effortlessly with a man that wasn’t one of her suitors.

“Where’re you going?” Lorcan hissed, one of her Rhoe’s most trusted and least subtle men.

“Out!” Aelin barked while dragging Rowan out the main doors. But the man’s eyes weren’t on her, and something dawned on her. He was the one who came with Fenrys from Doranelle, wasn’t he? Was he friends with Rowan too, or just acquaintances?

Out of the main venue, Aelin found a storage closet of sorts and shoved Rowan in it, locking herself inside with him.

He sighed, taking in the tiny room. “I didn’t know you liked it tawdry.”

She crossed her arms. “You were talking about family drama and tabloids.”

“When we texted last night, I thought you’d want my mouth for entirely different reasons.”

“Well, I—“

Aelin was silenced by his hand holding onto the back of her neck, tilting her head toward his.

He raised a brow in question. *What do you want?* he seemed to ask.

Well, fuck. This was such a cheap trick, but she could Google her answers later to figure it out. Neck-grabbing with those rough hands? Not so easy to do on her own.

Aelin closed the distance between them, and their hands found each other’s bodies like magnets. Rowan’s kisses were rough and hungry; when he backed her against a shelving unit and sneaked a hand up her thigh, Aelin grasped how thoroughly ravished she was about to be.

She lost sight of her initial goal completely.

˜˜

Rowan had one hand on her waist and another using the shelf to hold himself upright. They were both panting, breaths mingling in that near claustrophobic closet.

He grabbed a few napkins behind her to dispose of the condom, and that was her cut to fix her hair and smooth down her dress.

“Can you—“ Aelin was brutally interrupted by a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

She peeked out the door. The only person close by was Lorcan, looking grumpier than ever.

“Psst!” she called him. “Yes, c’mere.”

“You missed dinner.”

“Your friend didn’t.” Aelin smirked with the memory. Him kneeling before her, face between her thighs, was definitely something. “What time is it?”

Aelin had no way of knowing—she didn’t have her phone with her, and Rowan would do anything to avoid their conversation.

“Late.”

“But is it too late?”

The man gave her a hard look, and it was all she needed to know—no, it wasn’t too late, but she should get back to the party before her dad notices it and incites chaos. Still, she got back to the storage closet and locked the door again.

“Round two so soon?”

Aelin crossed her arms. “Family drama and tabloids. Spill.”

“You’re not unlocking that door until I tell you, I take it?”

“Absolutely not.”

Rowan sighed, but conceded. Then, he went on about how much he disagreed with Queen Maeve’s contrarian policies, and the rupture it created between him and his family. About how he left Doranelle without looking back, and only remained as a prince in name, since the royal family wouldn’t rescind his title for the media havoc it’d cause—even if he wasn’t so much in the public eye.

Prompted by Aelin, he told her about how he found a remote job with his engineering degree and traveled the world with no royal privileges and no money—for a prince’s standards, at least—, met people who weren’t royals or billionaires. How he lived his life with no constraints.

She liked it. She wanted it. To live freely, to travel without a team of bodyguards who reported everything to her father, to be able to drive on her own.

Just like that, Aelin saw a new plan unfold right before her eyes.

Moving from her father’s highly-guarded mansion to Dorian’s or Chaol’s castle with a different set of guards was just trading one pair of shackles for another.

But Rowan… she could live like him. She could live with him—anywhere and everywhere, like he’s been living so far. Rhoe could be so blinded by her having a royal title he’d forget that her groom was penniless. Rowan didn’t sound like the type to hold her down, he sounded like the type who would let her live her own life, or even give her a divorce if she truly desired it, no politics involved.

She’d keep her money and her relationship with her father, but also have freedom. It was perfect. It was her best plan so far.

“Rowan…” she trailed, uncertain of his reaction to her next words. “Will you marry me?”

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oc3anawrites · 2 months ago

Text

Shattered Reflections

read previous chapter here

Chapter 3- The man in the mirror.

summary: steven uncovers the truth about the man in the mirror, marc spector and it leads him to meet someone new, amaya young.

a/n: the begining is very similar to how layla and steven meet in the show but don't worry it changes fast

cw: small mention of divorce, other than that its mostly just confused steven

When he arrives at the storage locker, he nervously tells them employee,

“Hi im uh looking for a storage locker it might be under the name Steven, Steven Grant or uh Marc? Just Marc, no surname.”

“I know you, you’re number 43. I never forget a face.” The man leads steven to the storage locker.

Steven enters the storage locker, alone. Once inside the storage locker, Steven finds a cot, supplies that look like army supplies and a duffle bag. He unzips the duffle bag. Inside it’s full of guns, money and a passport with his photo. Steven reads the passport outloud.

“Marc Spector…” Steven sighs and continues looking in the duffle bag where he finds the scarab that Harrow has been looking for.

“Steven, listen to me very carefully..” says Steven’s reflection on a glass pane in the room.

“There he is, hello man in the mirror..” Steven says as he puts his hands into his pocket, clearly nervous.

“You weren’t supposed to see any of this.” Marc responds.

“Well uh it’s a bit too late for that yeah? What am I like, some secret super agent or something?” Steven asks, nervously.

“A bit more complicated than that.” Marc replies.

Growing frustrated Steven asks-

“More complicated what? Am I possessed? Are you like a-a-a demon? Or..” Steven stutters.

“You’re in danger Steven, I can save us. Just like I did last night but I can’t have you interfering-”

Steven moves close to his reflection as Marc continues talking.

“So, you’re gonna go lay down on that cot over there take a nice nap-”

“Are you kidding? I’m never going to sleep again. Look I don’t care how bloody handsome you are yeah? Tell me what it is you are. What are you?” Steven interjects.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Mark asks.

“Yes, bloody yes-”

“I serve Khonsu. I’m his avatar.Which means you are too, sort of. We protect the vulnerable and deliver Khonsu’s justice to those who hurt them.” Mark states.

“Oh my god, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.I eat one piece of steak and then bam i go bonkers.” Steven says, turning away from his reflection.

“I’m having a panic attack, I think I’m having a panic attack. I need to go to the hospital.” Steven says, out of breath.

“I made a deal with Khonsu, that deal is contingent on you not interfering. Now give me control of the body, let me finish this and you’ll never hear from me again.” Marc interrupts.

“You want my body? Right yeah how about this I’m gonna take this bag full of illegal shit to the authorities and they’re gonna put me away so I don’t hurt anyone else. And hopefully the hospital will pump me so full of pills that you get out of my head.” Steven grabs the duffel bag and exits the storage locker.

Suddenly, all of the lights in the building start to go out, the locks on the storage units rattling, the wind shifting around steven.

Steven screams and begins clumsily running towards the exit while Khonsu chases him.

“Give it back, you fool.” Khonsu says, looming over Steven.

Steven lets out a girlish scream, clutches the duffel bag and runs outside. He stumbles and trips onto the street, his head nearly being squashed by a woman on a motorcycle.

✦

“Marc, where the hell have you been?”

“Amaya?” Steven questions, remembering the name and voice from Marc’s phone.

Steven hops onto the back of her motorcycle and she drives away while questioning him.

“What the hell is going on? Is this ‘Steven’ the latest fake identity for you? I thought you were using a coded message when we spoke on the phone.”

“How did you find me?” Steven asks.

“How do you think? I tracked your phone, I thought that’s what you wanted me to do when you turned it on.”

“Uh- right yeah.” Steven replies confused, he isn’t sure what to tell her, or how to explain any of this.

Steven’s hands awkwardly hang onto her shoulders, as he tries not to fall off the bike.

“Why didn’t you at least tell me you were alive? I thought you were in danger or kidnapped again. But I kept telling myself ‘Marc has the suit, he’ll be fine.’ And then my mind would trail off into well what if he doesn’t have the suit or what if he got ambushed. And would you just stop clasping my shoulders like that!-”

“Oh- uh sorry where do I hang on I-” A bump in the road causes Steven to fall onto Amaya, grabbing her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. Stevens face blushes a light shade of pink.

“Do you see what you put me through Marc? I used to be your wife, you know?” She retorts. The touch of the man she once knew on her waist feels unfamiliar to her, unnatural.

“Sorry did you- did you say wife? Are we married?” Steven says, confused.

“Please just drop the act, clearly we lost whoever is chasing you, and drop the fake British accent.” Amaya replies, clearly fed up with whatever game ‘Marc’ is playing.

“What? This is how I talk?”

“Okay, get off my bike.” She says, pulling the motorcycle to a stop.

“Wait wait please, I will tell you everything, just get me to my flat yeah?” Steven responds, panicked.

Amaya sighs but agrees and takes Steven home. He unlocks the door to his apartment and they both walk in. His apartment is a mess. Littered with books about ancient Egypt, Pictures and postcards covering the wall. She walks up to the fish tank, and watches the fish swimming around.

“A goldfish huh?” She asks, watching the fish aimlessly swim in circles.

Steven watches her, and in the reflection from the glass of the goldfish tank Marc says-

“Get her out here Steven, she shouldn’t be here.”

“I just want my life back.” Steven responds.

Amaya turns away from the goldfish tank and faces Steven. “Yeah I can see that.”

“No, no- sorry I wasn’t talking to you, just talking to myself, kind of.” Steven responds.

“Uh this is your apartment.. Marc?” She looks around the room and scoffs when she sees the ankle restraints attached to his bed.

“I’m Steven.” He responds.

“Are you living here with someone else?” Amaya asks, frustrated. She’s had enough of this sick game ‘Marc’ was playing with her.

“No, no no uh this is my mum’s flat.” Steven says.

“Oh so you guys are talking again?” She responds, puzzled.

“Again?” Steven asks.

Amaya ignores him and begins to walk around his apartment, looking at all of the books and items he has around. She sees pages full of hieroglyphs and questions why ‘Marc’ is suddenly learning how to read them.

“Well it’s not like hieroglyphs are a whole language, it’s more like an alphabet.” Steven responds.

She looked down at the papers and read them out loud- “Funeral Rights.”

“Well someone knows their unilaterals. You.” Steven lets out an awkward laugh and points to Amaya.

Amaya sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Okay.. yeah I’m not buying this Marc. You sent these papers but never signed them-” Amaya pulls out some papers from her bag and hands them to Steven.

“Oh did I uh- let’s have a look here.” Steven puts on a red pair of glasses, slightly too big for his face and begins to read the papers.

“You told me that I need to move on. But you didn’t even have the guts to sign them first.” She says as Steven reads the papers.

“Divo- Divorce? I would never divorce you.” Steven says confused.

“What the hell are you talking about? YOU sent these to me.” Her voice is short of a yell now. ‘This is a sick fucking game Marc.’ She thinks to herself.

“Look, you seem absolutely lovely. This Marc, on the other hand is a right twit. Yeah?” Steven looks into the mirror behind him and sees Marc, who sighs and hangs his head in shame.

“Look, I don't know how to explain what’s happening. I don’t expect you to believe me, I honestly don’t even believe myself. All I can do is try to show you what I found-” Steven begins to explain.

“Steven, Steven stop. I mean it Steven. Stop. Don’t bring her into this.” Marc pleads, in Steven’s reflection.

Steven reaches into the bag and begins to pull something out-

“You’re going to get her killed, Steven, close the bag. You show her that scarab, you’re responsible when they come after her.” Marc says angrily.

Steven stops in the middle of his sentence and freezes.

“What? What did you find?” Amaya asks.

“N-nothing, nevermind.”

She walks over to Steven and opens the bag, pulling out an ancient scarab.

“The scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti? What we fought side by side for?What is this whole show just because you want it to yourself?” She asks angrily.

“Just take it, take it please. I swear I don’t want it. Please just listen to me. I am not Marc Spector. I am Steven Grant. I work in a gift shop, or I did work in a gift shop. And I think I’m in real danger and you might be the only person who can help me.”

“You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this? Our adventures? Or our life together? You don’t remember me?” Amaya says, collecting herself. She doesn’t want to believe a word coming out of this man's mouth but he seems so innocent.

“Oh god I wish I could.” Steven responds.

She pauses for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

“You’re really not Marc?” She asked.

“No, I promise.” Steven responds, nervously fiddling with his jacket pocket.

Amaya takes a deep breath, unsure if she can trust what the man in front of her is saying. Part of her wants to trust his words, trust that he doesn’t remember how much he hurt her, that he doesn’t remember her. The other part of her wants to spit in his face and never speak to him again. She stays silent for a moment, debating how to respond.

“Okay Steven, I believe you.” Truly, she isn’t sure what to believe but if this is all true it means a man who looks eerily similar to Marc has put his trust in her. She decides to really listen to what the man has to say and open her mind up to the possibility of his words being truthful even though every bone in her body is telling her to run the other way.

“Really- really? Oh thank god.” Steven takes a breath of relief, his shoulders relaxing.

“Tell me everything Steven.” She demands.

Steven begins to speak and then looks in the mirror, expecting a retort from Marc.

“Good job Steven, you’ve just gotten both yourselves killed.” Marc says.

Steven ignores Marc and begins to blurt out everything.

“So a few months ago, yeah? I started having these blackouts, waking up in random places, not knowing where I was.”

She listens intently and lets Steven continue. ‘Blackouts?’ She thinks to herself.

“And a few days ago I started hearing this voice in my head and seeing someone in the mirror. I think I'm sharing a body with someone. With this Marc Spector guy. And he told me he works as Khonshu’s avatar, this all sounds so bonkers right?” Steven looks over to Amaya.

Amaya takes a moment to process everything Steven just told her. ‘Marc and Steven share a body?’ She asks herself. ‘I guess it’s less crazy than ancient gods being real and being able to possess humans.’

“You’re not crazy, Steven.” She replies after collecting her thoughts.

“What? You really don’t think I’ve gone mad?” Steven asks.

“I met Marc a little over 10 years ago in Cairo, eventually I found out about Khonsu and that he was his avatar. So no I don’t.I just can’t believe he never told me about you.” There’s not even the slightest twinge of emotion in her voice as she explains.

Steven, looking confused, takes a step back from Amaya. Amaya stands there silently, watching Steven. Even though this man has so many similarities to Marc, his beautiful curls, his smile, the same eyes, the same body, he is a total stranger. Until she sees the look on Steven’s face.

“Ten-ten years? Marc and I have been sharing a body for ten years?” Steven’s face looks defeated, he looks like he could just break into a million pieces.

A soft look of worry crosses Amaya’s face, barely noticeable unless you’re staring directly at her. Seeing a man who looks so much like someone she used to love be so hurt makes her head hurt.

“What happened between you and Marc?” Steven asks her, interrupting the ache in her head.

Amaya takes a deep breath. Normally she would never tell a stranger even a tiny piece of the truth in her life but she can’t help but feel a vulnerability in the armor she put up around her heart when she talks to Steven.

“After we met in Cairo we began working together, searching for ancient artifacts. We fell in love, or what we thought was love. I’d provide him information for his missions with Khonsu. He refused to ever bring me along but he would always come home after his missions. We got married 5 years in. A few months ago, Marc disappeared one day and never came back. For an entire month I didn’t hear a single word from him until I received divorce papers in the mail. Then it was radio silence again.” She recants.

Steven processes what Amaya has just said and looks into the mirror. Marc stares back at him with a furious look on his face, but stays silent.

“I’m so sorry Amaya. You didn’t deserve that.” Shame and guilt are riddled across Stevens face and body language. Even though he knows that it was Marc who hurt her and not him, he still feels like it’s his fault.

Amaya is taken aback by Steven’s words. ‘He’s so…different.’ She thinks.

“It’s okay Steven.” Amaya carefully places her hand on Stevens shoulder, gently squeezing it to give him some reassurance. She felt it was what he needed, even if she wanted to just slap him straight upside the head simply because she knew he and Marc shared a body.

Steven blushes at Amaya’s hand on him. He feels a little bit of shame for liking Amaya’s touch as he now knows that the man he shares a body with is her husband.

“So Steven, I know a lot about Marc, but nothing about you besides that you used to work in a gift shop. Who are you?” Amaya asks, trying to gauge what kind of man this Steven is. Because if he’s anything like Marc, she plans to run away as fast as she can before she breaks.

Steven fidgeted nervously, his eyes darting around before finally settling on Amaya's. Her look was sincere, she wasn’t judging him like everyone else usually does, she actually wanted to know.

"Um, well I’m- I’m Steven Grant, and, well, I work, or worked.. at a gift shop in the London Museum. I’ve always been a bit of a, um, history buff, especially when it comes to ancient Egypt. It’s just so fascinating, you know? My dream was to be a tour guide at the museum but Donna always shot me down. I have a goldfish named Gus—he’s got one fin, poor little bloke. Or at least he did, And, uh, my mum, she’s always been there for me, even though things have been a bit... complicated lately.”

Amaya and Steven took a seat on his couch as they talked, she listened intently, her eyes softening as Steven spoke. This man was nothing like Marc, not even close. She reached out and gently touched his hand, offering a reassuring smile. She couldn’t really figure out why. It just felt right.

His hand felt so similar to Marc’s yet so different. As Amaya sat on Steven's couch, her fingers traced the intricate patterns on the cushion absentmindedly with one hand, the other gently held Steven’s. Steven fidgeted with his free hand, trying to pull at his sleeve. Amaya’s touch made him nervous. The room was filled with the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm light on Steven's collection of Egyptian artifacts. As Steven spoke about his life, his job at the museum, and his passion for ancient history, Amaya's mind drifted back to the days when she and Marc were inseparable. She remembered their wedding day, the way Marc's eyes looked when they exchanged vows, the way he kissed her, the way he held her…. The memory was so vivid that she could almost feel the warmth of his hand in hers, the sound of their laughter echoing in the air. But then, the memory shifted to the arguments, the days without him and finally the day Marc disappeared. The confusion, the fear, and the endless nights of waiting for a call that never came. What it put her through, the dark path she had fallen down. The hate she had for herself for not being able to find him no matter how hard she looked.The pain of his absence was still fresh, a wound that had never fully healed.

As Steven continued to talk, Amaya's gaze wandered around the room, landing on a small goldfish swimming lazily in its bowl.’Gus.’ She thought to herself, remembering what Steven had said. The sight brought her back to the present, and she realized how different Steven's world was from the one she had shared with Marc. The meticulous notes scattered on the desk, the way Steven's eyes lit up when he talked about his passions—he was so different from the cold, untrusting and untruthful man she once loved. The juxtaposition of her past with Marc and her present with Steven created a whirlwind of emotions within her. She felt a deep sense of loss, but also a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in understanding Steven, she could find a way to heal from Marc, to bridge the gap between the man she married and the man who now stood before her, fragmented yet whole in his own way.

Amaya took a deep breath, her fingers still intertwined with Steven's.

` "Thank you for sharing that with me, Steven," she said softly, her voice tinged with a mix of sadness and warmth.

"It's clear that you’re very different from Marc, and I can see how much you care about the things that bring you joy. It's... it's a lot to take in, knowing that Marc and you share the same body, but are so different in many ways."

She paused, her eyes drifting to the goldfish bowl once more before returning to Steven's earnest gaze.

"I wish I had known you before,Steven.” ‘Shit, why the hell did I just say that?’ The words had escaped her lips before she could even process what she was saying. She hated this feeling, this dumb fucking fuzzy feeling that you get when you have a crush as a kid. It made her feel too vulnerable for comfort.

Steven's eyes softened as he listened to Amaya's heartfelt words. His heart hurt at her words.

"I wish I had known you too." he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion.

"It means a lot to me that you want to understand and get to know me. I know this whole situation is... well, it's complicated, to say the least."

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He realized that this entire time he was so busy rambling and panicking that he never even took a good look at Amaya. She had long white hair that was tied into a braid and thrown over her shoulder. The last few inches of her hair are an inky jet black. Her eyes looked empty, almost drained of life in their blue-ish gray hues. Her ivory colored skin had but a small tint of warmth in it.Her jaw and cheekbones were sharp but almost soft at the same time. Steven gazed at the scar in the middle of her forehead, right between her brows. ‘I wonder what happened.’ He thought. He continued to examine Amaya, noticing the way her clothes fell on her body, the way she moved her hair ever so slightly. He took one last look at her face, admiring it before he averted his gaze.

"I want you to know that I'm here for you, too. I may not have all the answers, and I might not be able to explain everything about Marc and me, but I promise to be honest with you. My life has always been a bit of a puzzle, but maybe together, we can start to piece it together. And who knows? Maybe we'll find some new pieces along the way that make the picture a little clearer." Steven said, snapping out of his admiration of Amaya.

His smile widened slightly, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he looked at Amaya, feeling a sense of connection and understanding beginning to form between them.

“I hope so.” Amaya smiled softly back at Steven.

suddenly there’s a knock on Steven’s door

#mcu #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #marc spector x oc #steven grant x oc #jake lockely x oc #oc #original character #moonknight angst #slow burn #fanfic #marc spector needs a hug #steven grant needs a hug

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heavenzscent · 1 year ago

Note

what are some of your jeankasa modern au hcs? ☺️ and i’m kind of curious what you think their respective fashion styles r like

I’ll start with Fashion :

As for fashion styles : I’ve made two posts showing how I think they would dress.

Mikasas style : X

As a child she likes girly sort of cottage core clothes and overalls. In HS she goes through a goth phase, more in a 80s/ 90s goth then an early 2000s mall/ hot topic sort of way. But she did enjoy getting accessories at hotopic and twilight sleepy shirts. By the end of HS and Uni she is mostly in aethlesure. She was so many sets. She still wears dark liner as a nod to her old style and she’s back to gravitating to pinks , and blues again. She is a silver girl for sure. She wears a lot of jewelry even if she’s wearing a unitard and a hoodie. She manages to never look messy somehow. Her crazy bed head is her best kept secret only Sasha ,Armin and Eren know about it. Her makeup bag is expensive but kinda bare bones. She wouldn’t be the type to have a makeup room.

Jeans style: X

As a child he would get dressed by his mom like a little dork alot of sweater vests. In HS I think he would dress a bit accurate to bad boy Jean in Isayamas school castes. I think he would try to break free of his mothers styling choices for him.

In Uni he would find himself. Jean loves gold. He is the type to ask for gold for every special occasion. He has a gold Cuban chain that he never takes off. He has some diamond studs but he only wears them to parties and Connie teases him.

He gravitates towards , preppy /sporty sort of clothes with a 80’s and 90s influence. Think Tommy Hilfiger and college sweatshirts / caps. He also wears a lot of work wear and takes alot of inspo from people like James Dean, Paul Newman . And generally old Americana and music videos.

He would actually be surprisingly articulate in fashion.

He loves dressing up but acts really nonchalant when people comment on his clothes. Although He once sliced his food budget in half for 2 months so he could buy a dressy coat. Any vacation he goes on he looks up the shopping first then food places.

HEAD CANONS

Jean and Mikasa are both really involved in university extra curriculars and they make it look easy.

Mikasa finds Jean a little over bearing at first but since she sees him at so many community and Uni events she gets to know him and actually finds him kinda funny when he isn't trying and reliable.

Jean was in a frat for his first semester before he decided it was dumb because someone was rude to Marco.

Mikasa and Marco really get along and that makes Jean jealous at first when then were all just friends.

Marco and Sasha finally get Jean and Mikasa confident enough to ask eachother out

Jean spent a whole day learning how to change car oil because Mikasa complained about the price one time. Then he casually dropped that he had been tired because he been changing his car oil earlier and if anyone needed their oil changed they could hit him up. Unfortunatly that meant everyone else in the firend group now gets free oil changes now.

Mikasa is never on socials and Jean is on them too much

Mikasa has a extremely clean car but the trunk is basically a storage unit

Both spend too much when they go shopping

Jean turns anything and everything into a date. Barnes and noble date ! Study date ! Errand date ! Taco Bell date !

Everyone thinks Jean and Mikasa are just some odd opposites attract fling . When they move in it’s a shock ! When they get engaged it’s a shock!

Have more but those are connected to my neglected Uni AU fic.

#jeankasa #head canons #I rambled too much I think #thanks 💘#ask

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madaboutmunson · 2 years ago

Text

Again - Part 6

Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Full list of Again series links inc AO3 Link

Steddie fic where Steve and Eddie are in their mid 30's and everyone has sort of drifted apart

Taglist: @adaed5 @grtwdsmwhr @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mightbeasleep

Notes: Apologies to everyone for the delay in posting an update on this story. A lot of life stuff happened.

=============================

"So, do you live around here now?" Steve asks curiously, helping to pack away the paints now that most everything is dry again. Eddie is opposite him inspecting and nodding approvingly at the figures Steve has base coated before putting them in their little foam capsules. It was dumb sure, but he couldn't help feeling a little proud to have impressed Eddie with something. Maybe he wished it was something more profound than painting a little plastic figure, but this was Eddie's domain, and perhaps that held more weight for him.

"Ah..well...I live here now, but to avoid confusion, that is more of a technicality. I could live anywhere. I…well we…Morgan and I go wherever we want over the summer. I got an apartment between Hawkins and his old school that may as well be a storage unit, honestly, for the amount of time I spend there." Eddie shakes his head, making his curls bounce around his face, with a laugh, "You live around here then?" He asks side glancing at Steve.

"A little further out, but this is our nearest library" Steve quickly volleys back the spotlight. He wanted to know more about this older Eddie. What his life was like, had been like, or could be. "So you move around a lot?"

"I guess. More than most people, but I just go where the work is, and my company has bases all over, so I can see how they're all getting on.

"Wait, I thought you said you didn't want to work for anyone else, and this was your business?" Steve asks in confusion.

"Oh, it is. I'm sorry I'm not explaining myself too well here" Eddie pops the top down on a full container, turning to Steve. His hip is balanced carefully against the table ledge, one arm around himself, the other bent at the elbow, animating his words as he speaks. It's honestly a posture that Steve could only ever equate with Eddie. Something that, for the most part, looked relaxed, and the hand flailing around delicately. His eyes split their time either focusing so deeply on him that he felt his very secrets would spill out of his mouth or they were observing what Steve could only imagine were tiny obscure details of the room around them. But at the same time, that crossed arm was a line of defence, a weak one, but it was still there. The other arm not extending too far from his torso, so he could bring it back in if needed. "So Tremolo is my business, and we've got bases all over, and it kind of just runs itself, you know? I occasionally check in with the different areas when I can. The rest of the time, I would have nothing to do, so I took some session guitar jobs or small local tours in a backing band. Earning that extra money means I'm not using Tremolo profits to live. So lets us do more charity-based work, and helps us expand.” Eddie laughs, “Sorry, I don't know why I’m explaining all that. You know how business works.”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says with a smile before turning back to the tiny paint pots again. Truth be told, Eddie could be talking to him about the intricacies of paint drying, and Steve would still be hooked on his every word. However, Steve was definitely trying not to make it look that way and possibly failing miserably. Then Steve recalls something and turns to Eddie, "Hang on. Didn't Carl say you weren't supposed to be here?" Steve watches Eddie's body stiffen, and he knows he's rumbled him about something, but he's not sure what. Eddie quickly turns to him, and in an attempt to hide his alarm, he is overly relaxed.

"Yeah, we were gonna move to the next place like normal, but we kinda liked it here" He smirks at Steve and puts his hands on his lower back. "What can I say, Steve? Nice views, you know?" He says, a glint in his eye that Steve interprets as Eddie isn't talking about the nearest vista point, "But obviously, when term starts, Morgan will have to head home." He says quickly as he turns back to packing the bag.

"And you?" Steve asks a little too quickly, staring intensely at Eddie, who bites his bottom lip in thought for a moment.

"Well, that depends on a few things, I guess. Money, work," he says, reaching for the last box of figures and packing them before turning to Steve to collect the paints "Other projects that might be, er, worth working on around here?" Steve sees Eddie's Adam's apple bob, and it occurs to him that he's nervous. There is no way he couldn't know how Steve felt about him. Someone must have told him at some point, or it might have been something Steve had given away during their interactions then or now. Maybe he was nervous because he wasn't sure about his own feelings or not sure of Steve. That is a pretty logical view. A lot can change in fifteen years. There is a little silence between them, and Eddie gestures at the paints, "Pretty weird names, right?"

"Honestly, I didn't notice," Steve says gently, trying not to replay in his mind how absolutely adorable Eddie looks when he’s nervous.

"What? Not one of them?" Eddie snorts with amused confusion, holds up the tub, and taps on it. "Not Crimson Carnage, Blugeoner's Brown, or Pangalatic Purple?" Steve's eyebrows shoot up, and he smiles at the names of the paints. "Oh, you think they're funny, huh? Well…" Eddie steps closer and points out a few more "What about Scar-let, hmm? Or No guts, no glor-grey? This one isn't even a pun, but Hooker's Green?" And Steve erupts with much more laughter than the silliness probably warranted, and maybe most of that was due to how close they were and how Eddie was looking at him right now. All fondness, an open-mouthed smile, soft staring until the smile changes to his usual one, and turns to pack the paints in his bag, but something at the game table catches his attention, and his eyes go wide.

Steve cranes his neck to see what's going on. Everyone at the table is chatting or packing away. Morgan, sporting a battle vest very reminiscent of Eddie's old one, is half sitting on the table, Zee in front of him and his bag in between them. They're talking, and he seems to be guiding her around the pins and patches on his backpack. Zee's face is running through a series of emotions: confusion, alarm, and amusement, but the big smile doesn't leave her face. Morgan's eyes only move around Zee's face and only leave it for a split-second glance at whatever item Zee is pointing at. Then Morgan moves the bag from between them and shows her his vest. He offers the material up to her so she can get a closer look at the patches and different pins. She takes it up in her hands and runs her thumbs over the patch near the chest pocket, and then they look up simultaneously. Finally, their eyes meet, and they just smile at one another for a while.

"MORGAN!!" An ear-splitting screech comes from Eddie's direction, startling everyone in the room. There are several thuds of things being dropped around the room as Morgan falls off the table with fright making Zee laugh as she helps him up. He points between himself and the origin of Eddie's yell. She waves him goodbye and goes to pack away her things. Steve checks, Zee looks back, and Morgan does the same a split second later, both faces plastered in big grins. Steve turns his attention to Eddie, who is pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. When Morgan eventually gets to Eddie, a lecture begins.

Steve can tell the exasperated look on Eddie's face, the gesticulating hands, and Morgan's head dropping. Then Eddie takes him by the shoulders gently. Eddie isn't angry but seems to say something in earnest. Steve knows that face. He's seen it first-hand when Eddie was telling Steve about Nancy in the upside down. It was the first time Eddie brought Nancy up to Steve, but it wouldn't be the last. He seemed quite fixated with it for a while, telling Steve how perfect they were for one another or picking out things she’d do that just screamed she truly loved Steve, but the more time he and Eddie spent together, the less he did, and then he just stopped bringing her up altogether. Ultimately Eddie had been wrong about Nancy. She cared about Steve, no question, but the kind of love Eddie was talking about? No. Steve isn't sure what Morgan did wrong here, but he'd find out. Eddie hands Morgan a bag, points to the exit and gives him a gentle pat on the back to get him on his way.

Steve approaches Eddie cautiously as he still seems a bit out of sorts, "Everything ok?"

Eddie huffs out a sigh, "Yeah, it's all fine, just could see something dumb about to happen, that's all."

Steve folds his arms with a teasing smirk, "I thought we weren't going to meddle?"

"I wasn't…it's more like…ok look, the way he was behaving wasn't ok, and also not like him at all. He's just trying too hard. God knows who's taught him that one." Eddie grumbles, "I just explained to him that if he liked someone, he should be himself and not put on a facade."

Steve is confused, "I think he was just showing her the bands he liked, Eddie. It's fine, really."

Eddie hops onto the table, his face reads whatever he's about to say he really doesn't want to, "Morgan, just tried to pull a move on Zee, ok? You get the other person interested in your pins, patches, or something, and when you've got them interested, you reel them in with something closer. Morgan used his bag and then his vest. It was not cool. And I understand that's like fun to do sometimes or whatever, but they aren't even dating. He's got this idea from somewhere and-"

Steve laughs and waves his hand at Eddie to stop him from talking, making his face fall into confusion, "Let's call it even. Shall we?"

"What do you mean, even?" Eddie says, confused.

"Zee pulled a move on Morgan two weeks ago. When they bumped into one another? First, the book drop, she had a tight grip on those books, and then she let him gather them up for her. Then the most important part, you act like you don't care, and it drives them nuts." Steve shakes his head. Eddie looks like he's trying to solve the equation for world peace with two fish sticks in his head.

"Are you kidding me right now?!" Eddie's mouth is agape in shock as he looks over at Zee and back to Steve, "I didn't even know that- what? how?" Eddie clasps his hands above his head in disbelief, "Is that why you said it wasn't about what Morgan had done?" Steve nods in reply, and Eddie paces around in a circle, "I wouldn't have even picked up on that!"

Steve laughs, remembering driving Eddie nuts pretending he didn't care on several occasions, "Yeah, Sorry. guess things are harder to spot when it's not one of your own moves, huh?" Steve laughs heartily at Eddie's attempted innocent face of surprise, "Come on, Eddie, who else was gonna teach him a move about patches and pins?"

Eddie's hands shoot up in surrender, "Steve, I would never have suggested he pull that kind of thing on Zee. Not that it should matter. I might have told him about it a long time ago in passing as a confidence thing to fall back on. He's good at talking about things he likes, you know, bands, D&D, art, cooking and stuff. To save him from stumbling over his words with small talk. I'm-I'm sorry." This might be one of Steve's favourite things about Eddie, sure he could be a little mischievous, but getting the truth out of him wasn't difficult, and his apologies were always from the heart. If he didn't mean he was sorry, he wouldn't bother saying it. That could be what made Eddie so easy to like. He wasn't hidden under layers of thoughts and secrets. He was just himself, take it or leave it, but never at the expense of the feelings of the people he cared about.

Steve shakes his head and beams back at him, "I would consider this even, Eddie. It's fine." Eddie's face lights up in response, and Steve is still pleased to see he does that sweet little fist clenched side to side little dance thing when he's happy about something. "Anything else you might wanna tell me, Eddie?" Steve says, cutting the dance short to be met with raised eyebrows and Eddie biting his lips back before blurting out a stream of things.

"Morgan's new high school isn't far from here, so we thought we'd check it out. His mom is currently looking into finding a place closer to save him the bus ride, or her the drive. We wanted to stay here because of meeting you and Zee. That apartment I told you I had, is actually a storage unit. I live in my RV. I'd really like it if we could hang out someplace without the kids sometime." Eddie says it all so quickly he has to catch his breath at the end. The last one takes Steve a little off guard. Eddie looks at him expectantly, like someone has paused him.

"Well, ok," Steve says with a sheepish smile. The dance resumes making Steve laugh, and Eddie smiles hugely.

"Hooo, that feels better," Eddie says with a laugh, his eyes spelling happily.

"Do you maybe want my number?" Steve asks. Eddie opens his mouth to say something and quickly closes it again, "Let me guess, Eddie. You already have it, don't you? Probably when you were fixing my phone, right?"

"Right," Eddie confirms with a smile.

"I have the kids this week, so if you and Morgan wanted to come round for dinner and basketball training, that could be an idea, and then the week after, the kids are with their mom, so that could be cool, or you know, whatever." Steve concentrates on a suddenly fascinating bookshelf to the side of them.

"Whatever?" Eddie chuckles, and Steve shrugs, "Steve Harrington, are you trying to act like you don't care? Trying to drive me nuts, huh?" He says softly, almost teasing. Steve just tries to hide his smile and shrugs again, "Well, it's working", he says, and Steve almost loses his mind. Is this happening right now? "Maybe I'll break my denim vest out and tell you about all my favourite bands?" Steve won't look, but he can sense that Eddie is exceptionally close to him now, leaning into his space. Steve nudges him away, and his laugh reverberates through the air around them. God, he loved hearing him laugh again, every one felt like it was starting the ignition in some long-forgotten part of Steve.

"Dad?" He hears Mackenzie call out and immediately spins around to her voice and tries to act normal, but his heart thumps in his chest because even though he hasn't, he feels like he almost got caught doing something he shouldn’t. Looking out the corner of his eye, he can see Eddie's big smile, which almost seems a little smug.

"Yeah, Zee?" He calls back, and soon enough, she tracks them down through the bookshelves and looks at both of them in analysis mode.

"Yeah...so...I was just wondering if you were ready to go because most people have already left, and also Beans," She says slowly, still analysing the scene.

"Oh fu- " Steve stops himself quickly, but Zee raises her eyebrows in surprise, and Steve knows this will be used as leverage one day. "Oh, fudge, of course, Beans."

"Beans?" Eddie asks in confusion.

Steve pats himself down for his phone and keys before extending a hand towards Eddie, "Nice seeing you again. Let me know about this week, yeah?"

Eddie looks at him oddly but accepts the handshake with a smile, "Sure thing, dude." He salutes to Zee, "Until next time Little Miss Harrington."

"See ya, Eddie", Zee replies in a sing-song way.

Eddie rolls his eyes and clutches at his heart, whispering, "So sweet. She gets away with everything, right?"

Steve chuckles, "Half of what you said is correct."

"Daaaaaaad!" An impatient yell comes from the hall, making Steve wince and point towards it. Usually, it would make Steve feel a little embarrassed when Mackenzie shouts after him this way around others, but the way it makes Eddie laugh, Steve thinks he gets it. How nice it feels to be called at all when your kid gets to a certain age.

"I see it was mainly the latter, for you then, but at least she's sweet to me," Eddie says with a smug little grin as he waves Steve goodbye. Steve walks down the hall towards Zee. He's resisting it so hard. It must have been enough steps by now, don't do it, Steve, don't you do it! Steve quickly looks back through the open door for Eddie, who is leaning in the doorway, already looking right back at him, grinning, making a phone shape with his hand by his face and waggling it. Now that definitely warrants a blush, and Steve quickly waves and turns away to hide it. You're a grown man Steve. Blushing?? Blushing?! No, Steve. Get a hold of yourself. With a deep breath and a few long strides, he catches up to Zee.

"So, how did it go today? The game, I mean?" Steve clarifies.

"Oh, you know, good. I love my new character, even if she is squishier than I'm used to playing. Got the killing blow to the boss in today's encounter."

"Well that's…great, but squisher means…" Steve is trying his hardest here, but he really only retains what he needs to, and this was new.

"Fewer hit points because of the class and stats, but I can do so much more damage," She says with enthusiasm, "Just gotta keep out of the way of the bad guys and the law."

"The law??!" Steve exclaims, "Are you a criminal?! I thought you were all heroes?" Steve begins to regret all sorts of things right now. The cleric was all praying and helping and healing, and whatever this new thing was so far was stabbing, murdering and maybe a thief?

"Think of it as more like Robin Hood crossed with Catwoman," she tries.

Steve nods, a little happier with this explanation, "Ok, I think I get it. Does this mean you'll need a new dice set or notebooks soon?"

"You know what, no. I think I'm good with the old ones I have" She smiles up at him, and whilst he's happy to be on the receiving end of this side of Zee for a change, he is suspicious. He had just offered her brand new stationery and dice, and she'd turned it down. Curious. "But speaking of old things", Here it comes. "You don't happen to have any old records from when you were a kid, do you? I mean, even better if you have them on CD."

A little confused, Steve replies, "Ah yeah, all my old records, I have on tape and CD, well, where they were available anyway. So you wanna listen to my old music collection?"

"Well, Morgan" Ah yes, Morgan, how could we have gone this long without bringing him up "was saying that some old music isn't that bad, but do not tell Eddie I told you he said that!! So I thought maybe if I listened to your collection, I might find something I like too."

"Now honey, Eddie and I didn't really listen to the same kinds of music when we were kids. So I don't think you're gonna find my taste very, er, cool," Steve says with begrudged honesty.

Zee shrugs, "That's what I said, but Morgan said you seemed pretty cool to him and-" Steve's brain needs a rewind. He can't believe what he's just heard. He's not even spoken to the kid, hasn't even had a chance to be nice to him, nor has Morgan had an opportunity to talk to Steve, though with comments like that, he's on the right track to win him over.

"I seem pretty cool to him?" Steve inquires, and Zee rolls her eyes so hard he's worried they might detach.

She sighs. "Oh my god! Don't make this a big thing, Dad, geez! He's just going on what Eddie must have said or the fact you drive me to the games, ok? But as I was saying, he thought you might have some hidden music gems too."

"Well, yeah, of course. I'll get the records down and find the matching CDs for you when we get home" Zee turns round excitedly only to be met by the raised finger of Steve, "After we've eaten", she slumps a little.

"Thanks, Dad," she says with a smile as they get to the car. Steve raises his eyebrows, smiles back proudly, and resists air punching to celebrate this success.

"Anytime, honey." He says as they get in.

#steddie #steddie fan fiction #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie fan fic #steddiefanfiction #steddiefanfic #madaboutmunson #madaboutmunsonagain #eddie munson #steve harrington

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dragonmuse · 2 years ago

Note

After the darkness of the last AU, could we have some more in "she says you can't hurry love"? Maybe about Dave's house search?

“It’s a little big, don’t you think?” Dave inclined his head up at the house.

“It’s totally unsuitable,” Whina nodded. The real estate agent, in her very tight red pants suit made a note on her clipboard. “At our age, you don’t want to go buying something with stairs.”

“You have stairs,” Dave pointed out with a quirk to his lips.

“Yes, so I speak from knowledge. One story.”

“One story,” the agent repeated. “All right, the next house is still in the running then. And the third one I was thinking of showing you does have some steps, but nothing like this. Still want to see it?”

“Might as well,” Dave decided. “I’m here. Should get the views in.”

The second house was across town, in an area that Whina always thought of as ‘upscale’ though these days it looked a little worse for wear. The house was one story, but also terribly dark.

“No garage,” Dave noted right away. “Doesn’t it snow here?”

“Like anything,” Whina nodded.

“I can’t be digging out a car and shoveling a driveway.”

“I have a service,” she assured him. “But garages are nice.”

“The third house has a garage!” The real estate agent chirped.

The third house had a broken front door which didn’t bode well.

“Could fix that easy enough,” Dave glanced at the agent, apparently trying buoy the poor woman up. “Sure it’s fine inside.”

It was not. Someone had very clearly failed to entirely move out of the place and there was an unfortunate odor.

“I’m so sorry,” the agent sighed. “There really isn’t much on the market right now. Are you sure you don’t want a condo? Lots of nice units open.”

“Maybe,” Dave said, but Whina could hear the ‘no’ there. “I’ve got some time though. Only put the old place on the market myself.”

“I’ll keep an eye out then!”

They got away from the agent and back into Whina’s car.

“Maybe I should just move into one of those ‘active senior’ communities,” Dave clipped his seatbelt in with a sigh. “The more I think about it, the more I don’t know if I want to keep maintaining a house.”

“So why not a condo?” Whina started the car with a frown. “You could get a nice one.”

“I don’t like the idea of neighbors right on top of me,” he admitted. “I’ve gotten used to living with lots of space. I know nowhere here is going to be farmland, but it’d be nice not to be in someone else's living room either. Every time I spend the night at Pete’s place, the noise drives me half-crazy.”

“I’ve got a page bookmarked with the listings,” she assured him. “Something will come up. And you know you can stay with me if you have to wait for something good to come along.”

She put the car in reverse and as she turned, she caught him looking at her. He had an odd expression, thoughtful and....something else. Whina tucked that away and concentrated on driving. It had taken her years to get her license and she still found it took most of her attention. Dave stayed politely quiet as she took them into the city. City driving was worse than local driving, but she schooled herself to patience. Eddy was standing in an open parking space when they arrived, giving a nasty look to a BMW that had dared to attempt the space.

“That girl,” Whina laughed. Eddy caught sight of them and waved enthusiastically. “I didn’t raise her to be like that.”

“I bet that you did though,” Dave laughed with her.

“Not on purpose,” she amended.

“Mama!” Eddy reached for her as soon as she got out of the car. “Hi, Dave. Pete and Luc are already here. We were thinking of ordering in for dinner, instead of going out. It’s Restaurant Week and everything is so crowded.”

“Do you have enough chairs for that?” Whina asked.

“We keep some folding ones in storage,” Eddy nodded. “How did house hunting go?”

“Bombed,” Dave told her. “But it’s only my first time looking. Things will crop up.”

They were a little crowded, but Whina and Dave were assigned into the regular chairs very firmly which Whina was not going to quibble about. Their hands brushed together under the table, a tiny electric point of connection.

Lucius posted up beside her, leaning in,

“Tell me all about it,” he demanded. “Did you see anything unforgivable?”

“Mostly just smelled it.”

“Say more.”

Whina laughed and did. He was such a dear young thing, with his thousand questions and quips. Dave’s attention was on Stede, who was offering some purchasing advice and seemed to be writing out a series of numbers.

“I don’t know if I’d want a house either,” Lucius said as she confided some of Dave’s concerns. “Seems like a lot of work.”

“It can be,” she agreed. “But I prefer it to trusting other people with my home.”

“Mm,” he set his chin on his fist. “It would be nice to have more space some days. Sometimes it’s all elbows and laundry.”

“Don’t pretend,” she smiled. “You like it.”

“I love it,” he agreed with a rueful laugh. “It’s very hard to be lonely when you have so many people around.”

“I like my own company, but I understand. It can be nice. To have noise around the place.”

Dave was staying in a hotel and Whina couldn’t get up from the table to say a proper goodbye without upsetting half the dinner plates, so they just waved as he was gently hustled out the door.

She spent the night in Alma’s little bedroom and it endeared her anew to her granddaughter. The room was somehow dreadfully messy even though the girl was rarely there. It was the detritus of a busy, full life with sheets of music and poetry intermingled with books, dried flowers, ticket stubs and water bottle with beads rattling around in the bottom.

“We should probably just put you in Charlie’s,” Stede had sighed over the state of it. “But I may have accidentally filled it with plants.”

“This is fine,” she assured him. The bed was clean and freshly made. Good enough.

The drive home went faster than the drive there which was nice, but when she got home, Whina found herself distracted. Everything she picked up, she put down again almost immediately. Eventually, she drifted to her laptop and opened Zillow again.

Dave should have a place he wanted to live. It was just unfair that he might have to uproot his life to be close to his son and compromise to have that. Whina had never done anything like that for Eddy. If anything, it was Eddy who was always doing those things. Buying Whina this house, sending her money for years that Whina had taken with an internal cringe, knowing her child was selling themselves by inches for it. Knowing that the only thing worse would be refusing it.

Eddy had.....well.

Eddy was her hero and not the other way around. Like it should be. Whina tried not to think about it much, but it bothered her on her rare sleepless nights. How could it not?

But that was another thing. The main thing was that Dave should have a house. A nice house with a small lawn and no stairs. Laundry on the same floor and a garage. She clicked through listings, trying not to get discouraged as house after house failed to live up to her standards.

Whina: What do you think about buying foreclosed properties?

Izzy: not a good idea. why

Whina: I’m not having much luck helping Dave find something.

Izzy: parameters?

Whina: One story, a garage, a small space to entertain, and close to a grocery store. And the beach.

Izzy: near you.

Whina: I didn’t say that.

Izzy: give me a day.

That was sweet. She had no idea what he could possibly find that she couldn’t, but if Izzy wanted to waste a little time looking, she wouldn’t protest. The internet was still a strange country to her and she could admit that she didn’t always speak the language fluently.

The phone rang in late afternoon. Charlie.

“Hello!” She said with possibly too much enthusiasm. He just called so rarely. “Don’t you have a meet today?”

“I do,” he sounded happy, relaxed and that made her happier. “I saw your email this morning and didn’t have time to respond, so I figured I’d call. Thanks for sending the article along.”

“You’re welcome,” she knew that he probably didn’t need her little odd clippings, but Charlie also communicated in found journalistic treasures, so she figured that was all right. “Are you settling into your new room all right?”

“Oh yeah, Amir is great,” Charlie said warmly. “He’s also eavesdropping right now, so I could be lying, who knows?”

“Hey!” Amir protested distantly.

“Be nice to him,” Whina chided with a laugh. “He shares a room with you.”

“Yeah, no, I know,” Charlie snorted. “It’s actually pretty great. I like living with a friend.”

“Oh, good.” She sat on the window seat, watching the ocean roll in. “It makes me worry a little less, knowing you have that.”

“You don’t have to worry about me at all,” he said breezily and before she could protest, “but you know, I could say the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t Pete’s Dad going to live with you for a bit? Or am I working on old gossip?”

“Only if he can’t find something before his house sells. It wouldn’t be permanent.”

“Huh. Well, it’d be good if he was close by anyway.”

“I can take care of myself, young man.”

“I know, I know, but still. Maybe you’d be happier with company too.”

“Tell me about your meet,” she insisted, suddenly very uncomfortable with the entire line of conversation. “Are in a relay today?”

She fended off further inquiries, happy to display the hardwon knowledge of swim that she had browbeaten out of Doug over the years, the poor man yielding it up to the best of his ability and patiently re-explaining when the details got away from her.

But the seed had been planted. Or maybe it had already taken root and Charlie had merely watered it. She turned it over and over, even as she fell asleep that night. In the morning, there was a text waiting with a link.

Izzy: not yet on the market, but will be soon

Whina: How do you know?

Izzy: research.

The house was perfect. It was just a few blocks away. It had a two-car garage, a single floor, a new roof, and a small back porch.

Reluctantly, Whina opened her email and carefully pasted in the link. She stared at it, fingers tapping idly against the keys.

Whina: Do you like Dave?

Eddy: yes. Please do whatever you’re planning to do already and don’t say a word to me about it, thanks.

Whina: You and Stede shared a room in my house, before there was a ring your finger, young lady and I didn’t say a word about it.

Eddy: mean.

She considered her options and texted Stede.

Whina: I need some courage.

Stede: I can see Eddy turning shades of red. I assume it’s Dave?

Whina: Yes.

Stede: I don’t know him well, but he’s always been generous with his time and energy for us when he’s here. If you like his company, I think you should pursue it.

Whina: We’ve been dating for months as it happens.

She wasn’t particularly surprised when her phone rang, but she answered with a sigh,

“Did you already tell Eddy?”

“They did want to know why I screeched like I’d been shot,” he mumbled. “My apologies. They’re a little...confused.”

“I’ll call her later,” she sighed. “We were just both concerned that you all would get...over invested.”

“We can do that,” Stede admitted. “Have you...is it good? Are you happy?”

“Yes,” she smiled a little. It was actually nice to talk about it. Even if she would have to admit to Dave that she’d broken the seal before him. They’d had a little running bet about it. “It’s mostly phone calls though.”

“Ah, and now he’s moving here.”

“Yes. And I’m...oh...it’s just...”

“It’s all right,” Stede said quietly. He sounded like he was moving, a door closing. “Whina, you know whatever you want is all right.”

“I think I want him to live with me. But I never thought I’d live with a man again,” she practically whispered. “I’m terrified. I don’t want to be scared again.”

Stede was quiet for a long moment and Whina could just hear the rise and fall of his breath. She counted them, one after the other.

“I can only tell you that you’re not alone any more. All of us would move heaven and earth to make sure you were safe, you know that?”

“I do,” she smiled weakly. “And I could do it myself now, I think.”

“I’m certain you could. And beyond that...well we have so little time, don’t we? It all goes fast.”

“Yes, it does.”

“So,” Stede said with his lovely confidence, brassy and charming when he was at his best, “I think you should do what will make that time as happy and full as possible. Whatever that is.”

“You know what I think?” she smiled down at her lap.

“What’s that?”

“That I’m very glad my Eddy found you.”

“...oh, I....thank you,” his voice snagged a little, a hiccup of emotion. “I’m very glad she did too.”

It was easier to write her email after that pep talk. Dave, darling man, did not call in response. He sent an email back that simply read,

I wanted to ask, but couldn't work up the nerve. If we change our minds, there will always be another house. I would love to give it a try though if you're sure you want this old bachelor.

Whina read it several times, warmth and nerves fluttering through her. Well. She knew exactly what to do with that. Her excess energy went into cleaning. The man would need some room for his things after all.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #she said love don't come easy

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comeonamericawakeup · 1 year ago

Text

Looks like his goose is cooked but good!

Unbelievable!!

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUN 10

At 3:00 today, Washington D.C., time, Special Counsel Jack Smith delivered a statement about the recently unsealed indictment charging former president Donald J. Trump on 37 counts of violating national security laws as well as participating in a conspiracy to obstruct justice.

Although MAGA Republicans have tried to paint the indictment as a political move by the Biden administration over a piddling error, Smith immediately reminded people that “[t]his indictment was voted by a grand jury of citizens in the Southern District of Florida, and I invite everyone to read it in full to understand the scope and the gravity of the crimes charged.”

The indictment is, indeed, jaw dropping.

It alleges that during his time in the White House, Trump stored in cardboard boxes “information regarding defense and weapons capabilities of both the United States and foreign countries; United States nuclear programs; potential vulnerabilities of the United States and its allies to military attack; and plans for possible retaliation in response to a foreign attack.” The indictment notes that “[t]he unauthorized disclosure of these classified documents could put at risk the national security of the United States, foreign relations, the safety of the United States military, and human sources and the continued viability of sensitive intelligence collection methods.”

Nonetheless, when Trump ceased to be president after noon on January 20, 2021, he took those boxes, “many of which contained classified documents,” to Mar-a-Lago, where he was living. He “was not authorized to possess or retain those classified documents.” The indictment makes it clear that this was no oversight: Trump was personally involved in packing the boxes and, later, in going through them and in overseeing how they were handled. The employees who worked for him exchanged text messages referring to his personal instructions about them.

Mar-a-Lago was not an authorized location for such documents, but he stored them there anyway, “including in a ballroom, a bathroom and shower, an office space, his bedroom, and a storage room.” They were stacked in public places, where anyone—including the many foreign nationals who visited Mar-a-Lago—could see them. On December 7, 2021, Trump’s personal aide Waltine Nauta took two pictures of several of the boxes fallen on the floor, with their contents, including a secret document available only to the Five Eyes intelligence alliance of the U.S., Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and the United Kingdom, spilled onto the floor.

The indictment alleges that Trump showed classified documents to others without security clearances on two occasions, both of which are well documented. One of those occasions was recorded. Trump told the people there that the plan he was showing them was “highly confidential” and “secret.” He added, “See, as president I could have declassified it….Now I can’t, you know, but this is still a secret.”

This recording undermines his insistence that he believed he could automatically declassify documents; it proves he understood he could not. In addition, the indictment lists Trump’s many statements from 2016 about the importance of protecting classified information, all delivered as attacks on Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton, whom he accused of mishandling such information. “In my administration,” he said on August 18, 2016, “I’m going to enforce all laws concerning the protection of classified information. No one will be above the law.”

The indictment goes on: When the FBI tried to recover the documents, Trump started what Washington Post journalist Jennifer Rubin called a “giant shell game”: he tried to get his lawyer to lie to the FBI and the grand jury, saying Trump did not have more documents; worked with Nauta to move some of the boxes to hide them from Trump’s lawyer, the FBI and the grand jury; tried to get his lawyer to hide or destroy documents; and got another lawyer to certify that all the documents had been produced when he knew they hadn’t.

Nauta lied to the grand jury about his knowledge of what Trump did with the boxes. Both he and Trump have been indicted on multiple counts of obstruction and of engaging in a conspiracy to hide the documents.

Eventually, Trump had many of the boxes moved to his property at Bedminster, New Jersey, where on two occasions he showed documents to people without security clearances. He showed a classified map of a country that is part of an ongoing military operation to a representative of his political action committee.

Trump has been indicted on 31 counts of having “unauthorized possession of, access to, and control over documents relating to the national defense,” for keeping them, and for refusing “to deliver them to the officer and employee of the United States entitled to receive them”: language straight out of the Espionage Act. Twenty-one of the documents were marked top secret, nine were marked secret, and one was unmarked.

These documents are not all those recovered—some likely are too sensitive to risk making public—but they nonetheless hold some of the nation’s deepest secrets: “military capabilities of a foreign country and the United States,” “military activities and planning of foreign countries,” “nuclear capabilities of a foreign country,” “military attacks by a foreign country,” “military contingency planning of the United States,” “military options of a foreign country and potential effects on United States interest,” “foreign country support of terrorist acts against United States interests,” “nuclear weaponry of the United States,” “military activity in a foreign country.”

Smith put it starkly in his statement, “The men and women of the United States intelligence community and our armed forces dedicate their lives to protecting our nation and its people. Our laws that protect national defense information are critical to the safety and security of the United States and they must be enforced. Violations of those laws put our country at risk.”

On Twitter, Bill Kristol said it more clearly: “These were highly classified documents dealing with military intelligence and plans. What did Trump do with them? Who now has copies of them?” Retired FBI assistant director Frank Figliuzzi noted that there is a substantial risk that “foreign intelligence services might have sought or gained access to the documents.”

There is also substantial risk that other countries will be reluctant to share intelligence with the United States in the future. At the very least, it is an unfortunate coincidence that the Central Intelligence Agency in October 2021 reported an unusually high rate of capture or death for foreign informants recruited to spy for the United States.

Since Trump supporters have taken the position that Trump’s indictment over the stolen documents is the attempt of the Biden administration to undermine Trump’s presidential candidacy, it is worth remembering that Trump’s early announcement of his campaign was widely suspected to be an attempt to enable him to avoid legal accountability. Attorney General Merrick Garland appointed Special Counsel Jack Smith precisely to put arms length between the administration and the investigations into Trump.

Smith noted today, “Adherence to the rule of law is a bedrock principle of the Department of Justice. And our nation’s commitment to the rule of law sets an example for the world. We have one set of laws in this country, and they apply to everyone. Applying those laws. Collecting facts. That’s what determines the outcome of an investigation. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“The prosecutors in my office are among the most talented and experienced in the Department of Justice. They have investigated this case hewing to the highest ethical standards. And they will continue to do so as this case proceeds.”

Smith added: “It’s very important for me to note that the defendants in this case must be presumed innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt in a court of law. To that end, my office will seek a speedy trial in this matter. Consistent with the public interest and the rights of the accused. We very much look forward to presenting our case to a jury of citizens in the Southern District of Florida.”

Likely responding to MAGA attacks on the FBI and the rule of law, Smith thanked the “dedicated public servants of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, with whom my office is conducting this investigation and who worked tirelessly every day upholding the rule of law in our country,” before closing his brief statement.

The indictment revealed just how much detailed information Smith’s team has uncovered, presenting a shockingly thorough case to prove the allegations. Trump’s lawyers will have their work cut out for them…although the team has shifted since this morning: two of Trump’s lawyers quit today. The thoroughness of the indictment also suggests that Trump and his allies might have reason to be nervous about Smith’s other investigation: the one into the attempt to overturn results of the 2020 election.

Some of Trump’s supporters are calling for violence. After Louisiana representative Clay Higgins appeared to be egging on militias to oppose Trump’s Tuesday arraignment, Democratic senate majority leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) and House minority leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY) issued a joint statement calling for “supporters and critics alike to let the case proceed peacefully in court.” Legal scholar Joyce White Vance noted that it was “extremely sad for our country that this isn’t a bipartisan statement being made by leaders from both parties.”

A lengthy and complete summary

#Trump federal indictment

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