#obviously it's going to take effort on both of their parts to work through their issues

[russellsppttemplates]

Not anymore (Lando Norris)

Lando's determined to make you see where you belong

Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)

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

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Part 1

The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning

From Lan

Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie

To Lan

I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!

Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.

There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.

"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.

"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.

"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".

Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.

"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".

"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".

Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.

Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".

"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.

Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.

"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.

.

"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.

"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.

"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.

"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".

Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.

He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.

Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.

The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".

"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.

The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.

"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.

"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".

You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.

"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.

"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.

"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.

.

You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.

They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.

"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.

"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.

The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.

You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.

The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.

When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.

It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.

Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.

Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.

As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.

“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.

"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.

"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.

It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.

"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.

To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.

Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.

Not made to be together.

"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.

"Is it good here now?", he offered.

"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".

"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.

He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.

"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.

"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.

"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".

“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.

There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.

[mejaemin]

best part- na jaemin

+18 mdni !!

wc: 1.9k

summary: jaemin loves you so, so much. but he loves waking up next to you even more.

warnings: established relationship, fem reader, unprotected sex, oral (fem rec), love making, morning sex, praise/body worship

an: this song is literally my LIFEE and putting it with nana?!!!?!! im a genius at work here… (also welcome to my first tumblr post 😛)

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

when jaemin wakes up, it’s usually kind of annoying because it means another day of work and other things he doesn’t want to do. however, today is different because the higher power blessed him with a mutual off day between him and you. when his eyes fluttered open at the golden sunlight peeking through the window, he went to shield his eyes but found his arm, without feeling, trapped under the weight of your head.

immediately upon remembering that you were home with him, any trace of enmity that he had towards waking up completely dissipated. the sun left a beautiful golden glow across your skin. he chuckled to himself upon taking note of the glow of your skin, from the lovely “spa day” you received the night before.

with the arm that still had feeling, jaemin reached for his phone on the bedside table. as a photographer, he knows better than to let such beautiful scenery go without taking photos first. his canon’s storage along with his phone gallery is full of photos of you, being that he never strays from said photography rule. what can he say, his idea of beautiful scenery is always you, even when you’re hunched over the toilet letting go of donghyuck’s surprise dinner.

after capturing at least twenty photos of your beauty, he puts the phone down and begins repositioning to resume cuddling into you. when he manually lifts his numb arm from under your head, you stir and turn over to face him with a pout. in the process, his heavy comforter falls from your shoulder and reveals your bare chest, littered in his teeth marks. admiring his work, he can’t help but wolf whistle at the sight.

in response, you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes. “morning breath, na jaemin.” he watches you pull the blanket up over your body and turn away before he responds.

”awe, boohoo.” he mumbles into your neck, slipping an arm around your bare hips as he begins kissing a line down your nape.

his half hard cock begins twitching to life when you sigh at his efforts, pressing your ass into him. he and you both slept bare after last night’s events, so the feeling of your soft skin against his length had him shuddering.

unable to wait any longer, jaemin repositioned you both so that he was now above you, resting on his elbows that caged your head in. “you look so pretty, baby. all marked up like that.”

he’s almost sure he hears ‘nana’ leave your lips but he’ll never truly know because his lips are on yours, splitting them open with his tongue to lovingly glide across your own. before he fully pulls away, he catches your plump bottom lip between his teeth and lets it snap back against your gums.

“fuck, i really fucking love you.” he sighs, fighting the urge to push his way into you when his tip bumps against your clit.

for a solid minute he just stares at you, once again enamored of your body, one he is able to have all to himself. his eyes flutter shut when your fingers graze his scalp, pulling him back down to your lips.

“i love you too, nana.” you whisper, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep and being used so intensely the previous night.

he pressed his face back into your neck, absentmindedly sucking another love bite into the skin while he finds the words he wants.

he pulls away, pressing a kiss to your new mark before continuing a trail down your neck. “you look so pretty right now.. in the sun.” he says while hovering over the dip in between your breasts. he obviously has more to say but waits, prioritizing the need to wrap his lips around your nipple, swirling it around his tongue and pulling it between his teeth before switching to the other.

he leaves a searing trail of saliva from your chest down to just above your navel, where he presses a soft kiss to the skin. just to the right there’s a faint handprint on your hip. his thumb grazes over it gently before he speaks up. “i really need you right now,” he looks up at you, his cheek laying against your stomach as he traces the outline of his handprint. your name leaves his lips with a slight whine. “i’ll be gentle. i just really want to love you right now.”

jaemin sighs, picking his head up as he kisses his way down to where he loves to be, gently kissing the bite marks he left previously. once he finally sits himself between your legs, he’s nearly completely covered by the blanket and can only see a sliver of your face. however, this isn’t a total concern of his when he’s about to drown in your pussy, getting his hair tugged just the way he needs on a lazy morning such as today.

before he falls back asleep, the ache in his dick and your breathy pleas bring him back to life, immediately leaning forward and licking a long stripe up your slit. he groans at the taste, still tasting a hint of himself. his eyes shut when you grip his hair and push him back into your heat. thankfully, there’s nowhere he’d rather be so he embraces your need, dipping his tongue into your entrance. he throws your legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your hips to keep you close.

maybe it’s the joy of being with you after a long period of work traveling but something in his heart makes him feel as if the best way to be close to you is sexually. with the help of his arms, his tongue begins thrusting into you, curling and flattening and grabbing at all the arousal that leaves you. his nose bumps into your clit, forcing squeaky mewls out of you that drives him to work a little harder.

detaching himself to take a short breath, surely not enough to keep him from suffocating, he pulls your clit into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue. one of his hands goes to dip two fingers into your entrance, immediately curling and scissoring you open. at this point in time he’s sure he’s edged himself at least three times with the amount of autonomous force his hips use to thrust into the mattress. he can’t be mad at this however, because as soon as his fingers pick up their pace you whine out his name, clenching your thighs around his head as you climax.

through the gap in the blanket he can see your lip between your teeth, eyes rolled all the way back in your brain as your high courses through you. at the sight, he moans, a sound far too desperate to admit he let out, blissfully overstimulated by the sound of blood rushing through his ears paired with your hips twitching against his face. he can’t help but be entirely too aroused by pleasuring you. your voice is more beautiful than his favorite singer’s and your taste is better than his favorite food. nothing compares to making you cum on such cozy mornings and that’s why they’re his favorite.

once your hips calm down, he pulls himself back up and catches his breath. while doing so, he pushes his soiled fingers between your lips. his dick begins to hurt at the sight of you drinking yourself up so willingly, grabbing his wrist to put his middle fingers entirely into your mouth.

“you taste so fucking good, right baby? i can’t get enough. but now, i think you’re ready for something better. is that okay?” he pulls his hand from your mouth and strokes your cheek gently.

when you nod, he almost cheers but holds it in for the sake of not ruining the moment. instead, he holds his tongue and instead kisses you, giving you the type of kiss that he’d normally save for a time like cuddling, or going on a date. it’s something he saves for romantic moments, but that’s exactly what he feels this is. there’s no other emotion running through his veins except for pure, sheer love. as soon as he woke up and saw your beautiful, peaceful expression in the morning’s golden hour, it’s all he felt. it’s all he ever feels for you and that’s what he’s going to show you now.

jaemin sits up, gently grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. his cock sits against your slit and for a few moments he stays that way, staving off his orgasm. when he finally composes himself, he pumps his length a few times before pushing himself all the way in. you didn’t have too much trouble taking him due to his previous preparations so he immediately began to move, albeit slowly.

as he lowers himself back down to be face to face with you, he removed your stray hairs from your face and kisses your forehead. with each soft thrust of his hips, he kisses you once again. he slides one arm under your neck, hugging you close to him so he can keep his lips on yours. his other hand glides over your body, tracing your curves and gripping every inch of your skin. it truly shocked him that such beauty was all his, and it was wrapped around him right now, fluttering and clenching around his cock because it wanted him. the thought has him keening, groaning into the crook of your neck as he calls your name.

”fuck.. oh my god, baby, it’s so good.. i’m so close. please tell me you are too..” he whines, hips involuntarily jerking as he thrusts into you. he’s not being rough, opting for slow and deep movements, but it’s his arousing thoughts that bring him close to the edge.

”oh, yes, nana, i’m so close.. please, babe, i- fuck!” you whine. jaemin feels you start pushing yourself into him, moving in sync with his thrusts.

the hand he slid over your body now moves between your legs, rubbing at your clit in an attempt to get you to cum before him.

”oh, fuck, baby, i love you so much. you’re gonna cum for me? oh please, im gonna- shit, cum with me baby. show me how much you love me.” he rambles, hopelessly moaning and grunting into your ear.

if it’s not his fingers, he’s sure his voice is what tips you over the edge, a loud moan escaping your lips as you finally reach your peak around him. he finally falls over the edge at the feeling, hips stuttering and coming to a halt as he spills himself deep inside you. his vision nearly blacks out, his eyes hurting as he gets the relief he so desperately desired. when he finally comes to, you’re right there with him, a content smile on your lips as you watch him come back to life.

reluctantly, he pulls out and falls back to his spot on the bed, bringing you back into his arms as you were before. the sun is no longer golden, implying that it is now reaching daytime, but it doesn’t deter him from falling asleep to the same face that he considers beautiful at any time of day. if he wasn’t so tired already he’d grab his phone and take more photos, but he’s content with breaking his own rules to fall asleep with the comforting idea that waking at sunrise to make love to you is infinitely better.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[seannessy]

⚠️POLITICS⚠️

haha bet you forgot through the shitposts that i have a bachelor's degree in political science

here's a bunch of reasons why Kamala Harris is going to win the presidency because i can never find the effort to edit this into a video:👇

1. The current polls are VERY biased towards republicans. Most large polls just take the averages of other smaller polls, and right now the GOP has been dumping LOTS OF MONEY into publishing a lot of fluff polls in swing states to make themselves look better and to get more donations. Democrats don't usually publish their polls publicly. Odds are it's another red mirage.

2. The majority of people who Trump is catering to just don't vote. A lot of the latest pushes in the Aiden Ross Gamerbro communities are not reliable voters, even as loud as they are online. You cannot convince me that the twitter edgelord crowd has ever even seen a ballot in their lives.

3. In elections canvassing matters by about 300% more than advertising (my own ballpark estimate, not a specific datapoint, but still very true having worked in both canvassing and campaign marketing). The only people signing up to canvass for Trump are just stealing Elon's money, meanwhile people are flying out from all 50 states to swing states to canvass for Kamala.

4. "This is Hillary Clinton all over again." No it isn't. Hundreds of papers have been published that all agree that the reason Hillary lost (besides the Michigan debacle) was that largely a lot of people already assumed she was going to win, and so they didn't go out to vote. Sean Westwood did a really good paper on this in 2018, the more likely you are expected to win, the less of your supporters turn out. The entire narrative is that Kamala is either tied or behind, so anyone who supports her will NOT be sitting this one out.

5. Kamala just did a MASSIVE rally event in Texas. Texas. In this part of the campaign, any sane strategist would tell you to do ALL campaigning in the swing states, so this makes no sense... unless internal democrat polls are saying that Texas is now winnable for democrats. I will remind you that Texas is not NEARLY as red as the stereotype says, and Greg Abbot has himself previously said that Texas would have gone blue if not for all of the voter suppression he did. I'm not joking. This is real. The only reason Texas is still Lean Red instead of Moderate Blue is because of insane levels of voter suppression by Texas GOP.

6. When turnout is low, republicans win. When turnout is high, democrats win. Turnout is already STUPIDLY high in the early voting metrics. Even higher than 2020 (which i will remind you, we won) in some cases.

7. Voter demographics just aren't on Trump's side here. Lots of republicans have bled out of Trumpism, and in a close enough race as this one looks to be even a few thousand republicans deciding to stay home could make or break it in a lot of states. Additionally, while Trump has made a lot of progress in minority voters (daily reminder that the median voter is stupid enough for "median voter" to be used as a slur in political science communities), Kamala has the white woman vote locked down. And oh no! Look at that! Which voter demographic is orders of magnitudes both larger and more active voters than all of the minority demographics that Trump has been gaining in? Yep! Kamala's lead in the white woman demographic has entirely erased Trump's gains in other communities. Abortion was the final nail in the coffin of republican chances, they took the mask off too early. The dog caught the car and didn't know what to do with it.

8. Voter demographics are STILL not on Trump's side even ignoring all that other stuff, because keep in mind, Trump voters have largely been older people, and the waves of people who elected him previously have... well they've kind of died. Covid really didn't help with that. I mean obviously not everyone, but like, this is a close race, and a very large chunk of those voters have been reincarnated as plants or whatever now.

9. "The X Factor" is 100% on Kamala's side. By that I mean just the force of raw charisma, the Kamala campaign is just more appealing and less unnerving to the general population. I really hate to keep hammering this but oh my god dude have you SEEN JD Vance????? Even after the debate where he performed as best as he possibly could and Walz performed as bad as he possibly could, samples STILL said they supported Walz over Vance by a factor of 85 PERCENT.

10. "The Shy Trump Effect." There's a myth a lot of people believe that Trump underperforms in polls and overperforms in elections because voters are shy to admit they're fans of him. A few things. #1: This was disproved so many times, including in Sean Westwood's previously mentioned paper. #2: Even after it's disproved, many polls already factor it into their calculations, which is actually INFLATING his odds in the polls. #3: Anyone who would have been a Shy Trump Supporter either just isn't going to vote this election cycle or is going to follow the Cheney's lead and vote for Kamala instead. This is probably the one election in our entire lives where Democrats have appealed to the right and it actually fucking worked.

11. Polymarket. A lot of people point to the new Polymarket as evidence that Trump has a lot of support among the average joe crowd. These people have no idea how the Polymarket works. American citizens legally can't bet in it, and the only way to get around that is by using Crypto. How many tech illiterate boomers do you think are going to know how to use both Crypto and a VPN? All of Trump's support there is coming from techbro whales or people in other countries. Infact, I think the number was that about a whopping 30% of all bets made on the side of Trump were sourced back to this one French Billionaire.

That being said, it's not a predetermined victory. Currently I'd put the odds at anywhere between 60-40 and 70-30 in favor of Kamala, but that still leaves Trump plenty of room.

The moral of the story is that things aren't hopeless! We have a very good shot at winning--as long as we all keep pushing like hell!

Oh also, if they try another Jan 6th, reminder that Biden is now the one in control of the military and national guard at the capital. Lol, Lmao, even.

[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Part Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing ’s excellent Stranger Prompts challenge - thank you for this, friends!

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But how much has he changed?

Chapter summary: Some answers, more questions 😉

WC: ~8.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, series CW for eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut, post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes, emotional scenes, eventual friends-to-lovers, descriptions of minor injuries, food/eating, mentions of canon-typical torture/experiments.

A/N: This series contains a lot of themes and scenarios that I haven’t written for before, I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. Abundant thanks to @the-unforgivenn for beta-ing and playing The Thesaurus Game 😛 This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it or my general one just lemme know in a comment, ask or message, I’d love to have you on board 🙏💙

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

You wake earlier than they do, shards of sunlight peeking through Steve’s pathetically thin and badly arranged curtains hitting you straight in the face.

You don’t move initially, enjoying the sound of both boys’ soft, rhythmic breaths, grateful they’ve both had the opportunity to rest and sleep.

You use this moment of stillness to allow the events of the previous night to filter through your consciousness. Eddie’s still here. He’s somewhat warmer than he was, and is still breathing. You’ll take all of those as a win.

His arm is still wrapped around your ribs, his chest against your back. During the night, one of his thighs has made its way between yours, and his hips are now pressed up against the swell of your ass.

You suppose that if you look at it objectively, he’s in a pretty good approximation of the Recovery Position. Good for him. Promoting healing, aiding recovery, and all that.

And you suppose that if you look at it subjectively, having the entire length of Eddie’s body squashed against the entire length of yours, and having his leg pressed against you just there, stirs feelings that are inappropriate for you to be having right now. Such as how much you’re enjoying it. How safe you feel. How much you wish there weren’t even these small, thin pieces of fabric separating you from him…

He snuffles behind you, groaning softly, and his arm contracts, pulling you even closer to him. You’d much prefer it was more than just the involuntary tensing of a waking man that’s causing him to do this, but push that thought to the back of your mind.

You slowly turn your head as far as you can, only able to see a little of him out of the corner of your eye. His hair is fuzzy as hell, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

In what you hope is a soft and comforting voice, you ask,

“Morning, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

Eddie’s voice is cracked and broken, like he hasn’t used it in a while. It’s gravelly and low as he mumbles,

“Mmf. A little sore, but warm. God, it feels so good to be warm…”

His arm clenches around you again, and he pushes his face into the back of your neck.

Trying to cover an unbidden moan, and inject some levity, you reply,

“Well, thank goodness for that, otherwise all of mine and Steve’s efforts last night would’ve been for nothing.”

Eddie shifts, starting to get a sense of where he is and the situation he’s found himself in. It causes Steve to stir behind him and let out a little groan of his own, and you feel Eddie freeze.

Trying to calm him and keep this obviously bizarre situation simple and light, you mumble,

“Yeah, body heat seemed to be the best way to keep you warm. I don’t suppose waking up naked between me and Harrington was on your bucket list, right?”

Eddie’s cheeks don’t exactly flush (going from pale grey to pale pink far too much of a gradient to be entirely achievable right now), but you do notice a little warmth appear in them.

Eddie jests, at least you think he’s jesting, as his grip around you tightens again, stronger this time as his muscles wake up, and he chuckles lightly as he smooshes his face into your hair,

“Well, it's definitely not the worst place I’ve ever woken up.”

This rouses Steve enough that he’s now fully awake, and he seems to remember where he is too. He moves away from Eddie and sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Glancing over, he mumbles,

“Hey, man. So, there’s literally hundreds of things I wanna ask you right now, but I guess I’ll start with, uh, how are you?”

Steve’s face contorts with a mix of incredulity and embarrassment at the utter banality of the question he just asked.

Unfazed, Eddie replies,

“Honestly, dude? I’m not entirely sure…”

He tries to shift his legs to sit up, but realises how enmeshed they are with yours, and inadvertently pushes his thigh up even closer to you.

Steve continues, unable to stop himself.

“What happened? Where have you been? How did you even get here?”

Eddie lets out a long, low exhale.

Finally picking up on how tired Eddie still is, and how tangled your and Eddie’s limbs are, you guess Steve decides he doesn’t want to get into any of that right now and declares,

“Y’know what, I’m gonna go make coffee.”

He grabs some sweats and a crumpled tee, and heads out towards the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Fuck, this is awkward.

After a short pause, you mumble,

“Yeah, I suppose we should get up too. The kids are gonna be beside themselves, I’d prepare yourself for a barrage of questions if I were you.”

Exhaling, you somewhat reluctantly extricate yourself from Eddie’s embrace, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for the pile of clothes you’re grateful you had the foresight to put out last night.

Pulling on jeans, a worn t-shirt and a woollen jumper, you sit back down and turn to Eddie, who’s now leaning up against Steve’s battered headboard, sheets bunched around his waist.

You notice his eyes are still sunken and red-rimmed, but he’s lost some of the sallowness that he had last night, and his features are significantly more relaxed.

As he sits up you have the chance to observe his torso properly. He’s thinner, and much paler, than the boy you remember. The odd appearance of his musculature that you could see last night is still abundantly present.

And there are scars. Lots of scars. They vary in appearance and colour, rough slashes and violent starbursts, in silvery white, muted pinks and shades of angry purples and reds. Some look smooth and well-healed, whilst others are raised and jagged. Some transect the inked designs you came to know so well, and it looks like he might’ve lost a nipple.

Realising you’ve been staring, you tear your eyes away and move them instead to Eddie’s face. He looks terrified, like he’s worried you’re going to find him abhorrent and run away screaming.

He starts to reach for the covers, to cover himself, but you lunge forwards and grab one of his hands in yours. You don’t break his gaze as you tell him,

“It’s okay, Eddie. You don’t have to hide yourself from me.”

His face softens, but his eyebrows remain pinched and his lips are still pressed tightly together.

Finally looking down as you stroke over his hand with both of yours, you notice that the wounds that you bathed and tended to only a few hours ago are practically healed, only a few areas of redness remaining where there were bleeding gashes and scarlet grazes. Some have almost disappeared.

You decide not to focus on this and concentrate instead on the fact that your friend, your best friend, the one you all thought was dead, is back with you here, right now.

Grasping his hand in both of yours, you murmur,

“However it happened, it’s really, really good to have you back, you know.”

He smiles then, and although it reaches his eyes, it does little to lift the grey pallor of his face.

He brings his other hand over, and as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles he notices the ring on your thumb. He runs a pad over the contours of the skull.

“You- You kept this?”

“Of course! I wear it every day. It helps me remember my best friend.” Your voice gets quiet as you add, unsure whether you’re overstepping.

“It helps keep you close to me.”

You hold each other's gaze for a beat too long, and Eddie’s lips open as if he’s going to say something.

Before he has the chance, a ball of anxiety rises in your throat, and you decide you can’t take the risk of him… what?

Telling you you’re stupid? That it doesn’t mean anything? That he wants his ring back?

You know none of this sounds like anything Eddie would say, but in your fragile, exhausted state you need to protect yourself from the risk of emotional harm, no matter how small.

You remove your hand from his and bend to retrieve the clothes Steve left for him, reasoning with a small smile,

“We don’t want you getting cold again, right?”

Eddie starts to dress, grunting a little as his limbs start working again. He only has time to pull on the worn sweatshirt when the door bursts open and the kids rush in. Dustin first, swiftly followed by Mike and Lucas, whilst Will and Jane hang back in the doorway.

The three teens leap, grinning, onto Steve’s bed, whooping and hollering and rolling around. They’re full of questions and theories and tales of what they’ve been doing whilst he’s been gone, all talking over one another.

Whilst Eddie is smiling and laughing and you can tell he’s buoyed by their love and exuberance, you also know he still needs to recover from last night, let alone whatever else he might have been through these past few weeks. So after a few minutes you shoo them out, instructing them to go help Steve make breakfast.

Dustin’s the last to leave, pausing in the doorway as he turns back, running his hand down his cheek and saying, with an infinitely adoring expression on his face,

“I can’t believe you’re here, man. It’s so good to have you back.”

They share friendly smiles before Dustin turns on his heel and follows the others, his voice decreasing in volume as he heads down the hallway yelling,

“I’m on toast duty today! You guys ate all the good peanut butter last time…”

You both snicker at their antics, Eddie shaking his head a little.

You want to say more, but settle for,

“They missed you. We all did.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and rolls his lips inwards into a tight-lipped smile, and you sense that he’s just as emotional as you all are.

He continues dressing, and you’re relieved the kids didn’t see Eddie’s scars, for all their sakes. You’re not sure whether they’re ready to revisit what happened in the Upside Down, and you don't want Eddie’s first day back with you all to involve him having to uncomfortably explain where they all came from.

He dons the rest of the unfamiliar clothing, and eventually stands, facing you. He spreads his arms wide and pulls a goofy face, raising his eyebrows high and flattening his mouth into a thin line, knowing how unlike ‘him’ he must look right now.

You never imagined you’d ever see your favourite black-loving metalhead in an oversized heather grey Hawkins Athletic sweatshirt, worn navy sweatpants and fluffy white sports socks, but needs must, and at least it’s all clean and he’s staying warm.

There’s a crash in the kitchen, startling both of you, but it prompts you to suggest,

“Come on, let’s go see what chaos those guys are causing.”

You direct him to the front of the house, and as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen all eyes turn to him. You see the kids take in his fluffy hair and new garb. He notices and, preemptively gesturing to himself and in a very close approximation of his Dungeon Master voice, says,

“If anyone says anything about this, I swear I will kill you. Got it?”

Mike and Lucas try to act like they weren’t even looking, and Dustin raises his hands in supplication. Jane laughs at the boys’ responses and Will smirks at the shenanigans, and you’re certain he and Eddie are going to get along just fine.

The kids have made everyone a simple breakfast of boiled eggs, toast and fresh oatmeal and they bring it to the large farmhouse-style table as everyone gets situated. Craving his proximity, you take the chair next to Eddie. Steve’s made a large pot of hot coffee, which is swiftly devoured by the four adults and almost instantly requires replenishment.

The kids want to fill Eddie in on, well, everything. Over breakfast there’s much chatter about what’s been happening in town, how the three of you ended up staying here, how kind and supportive Wayne and Owens have been, even a somewhat discombobulating discussion of what Eddie’s funeral was like. Plus there’s tales from the boys about D&D and stuff that’s important to the teens, most of which you zone out of.

Eddie is also properly introduced to the two he doesn’t know. He greets Will with a broad smile and claps both his hands around the boy’s slender one, a symbolic gesture full of characteristic Eddie warmth, welcoming another sheep even though this particular one has known the others for many years.

You don’t think anyone else notices, but you don’t miss the moment of extended eye contact and tiny nods that are exchanged between him and Jane, as they are introduced and shake hands.

Eddie seems to have a good appetite, devouring four warm, runny-yolked eggs, three slices of toast slathered with butter and jelly, and two large bowls of oatmeal with honey and syrup in rapid succession.

There’s some syrup on his chin when he’s finished. You want to clean it off with your thumb and suck it into your mouth, but you resist the urge.

The food cheers him, even seems to put a little colour in Eddie’s cheeks. Well, perhaps not colour exactly, but a move from grey to white is certainly progress. It’s hardly Cordon Bleu cuisine, but Eddie’s hoovered it up like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. You wonder what he’s been surviving on all this time to make such simple stuff seem so luxurious.

Coffee mugs are refreshed, the table is cleared, and there follows a semi-formal exchange of the personal items of Eddie’s that are in the cabin. Lucas returns his pocket knife, which Eddie thanks him for with a bro handshake and a half-hug, and Dustin gets down on one knee and presents him with his wallet chain on outstretched hands, as if he’s presenting a weapon or battle trophy to his commander. Eddie ruffles his hair and brings him in for a crushing bear hug.

Robin and Steve return his crucifix and boar’s head rings, which he dons, and you can’t help noticing that they’re slightly looser than they used to be. You’re grateful nobody questions why you don’t return the skull ring to him, or seems to notice the knowing glance and small smile that he gives you.

Dishes are cleaned and yet more coffee is brewed, and you head to the utility room to see how Eddie’s clothes are doing in the (noisy, and possibly unsafe) drier. As you return there’s a lull in the conversation.

Ever the direct one, Robin can’t stand the not knowing any longer, and as Steve pours the next round of coffees she blurts,

“So, what the fuck happened? We thought you were dead. You were dead. They fucking buried you!”

The kitchen falls silent for a moment, nobody sure how much Eddie wants to divulge or relive.

He wraps his palms around his steaming mug, and takes a long, slow, deep breath in and out before he starts talking.

“I don’t remember much after that night with the, uh, Demobats. I kinda remember being jostled into a van, or a military-type vehicle maybe? And tubes, bright lights, people shouting…

“The next thing I know, I’m in some kind of lab, a poky room with a tiny cot and metal furniture, and people coming in at all hours to prod at me and stick me with needles. They did all sorts of tests and injected me with shit, and they wouldn’t tell me what any of it was.

“I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that I can’t remember a lot of detail. It’s mostly just pain, agony, and being either chained or locked up. And screaming, so much screaming... Whether that was me or the others, I don’t know.”

You interject,

“There- There were others?”

He nods slowly.

“Yeah, definitely more than just me. I have no idea how many, who they were, what happened to them...”

His hands start trembling, and he lets go of the mug that’s started to shake in his grip, quickly putting his hands in his lap.

“I think the injections they were giving me were concoctions made from the… things they found… down there.

“Owens visited me a couple of times. He said he didn’t like what was being done to me but he wasn’t able to change anything. The last time I saw him he told me he was being transferred to a different site and didn’t think he’d be able to visit again, but he wanted me to know there was someone on his side.”

There’s a brief pause before he continues,

“The last, uhh, experiment was the worst-”

Eddie screws up his face and clenches his teeth at the memory, and balls up one fist, bringing it up to his pursed lips. He squeezes his eyes closed, and a tear appears at the corner of one eye.

You don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do, but you grab his other hand under the table, hoping it’ll give him comfort but fully expecting him to flinch away.

He doesn’t, and his hand clamps around yours in a fierce grip, almost crushing it.

Voice trembling and breaking, he continues.

“It was- Jesus H Christ- it was like liquid fucking fire. All I remember was feeling like they’d injected me with molten lava, and then there was so much shouting, and hands holding me down, and then everything went black...”

He pauses, and nobody else speaks.

Steve swallows, the tap drips into the sink and Robin’s rings clink softly against her coffee mug as she turns it anxiously.

“And then… And then the next thing I remember is coming to, and feeling cold, so- so fucking cold. And darkness, absolute darkness. And I was so scared, and I just started scraping and scratching at whatever was over me, and just kept scrabbling and digging until… there wasn’t anything over me anymore.”

You’re all stunned.

Someone says a quiet ‘fuck’, and you think you hear a sob, perhaps from Dustin.

Steve remains silent but runs a hand through his hair, palm coming to rest over his mouth, and Robin mutters a soft,

“Shit, Eddie.”

You all realise that Eddie wasn’t lying on a slab at all for these past two months, but was being experimented on, and it takes a long moment to sink in.

Eventually, Eddie says,

“Fuck. They really buried me, huh?”

To illustrate his point and as an attempt to inject some humour into the moment, he loosely combs his fingers through his fluffy locks and asks, “When I got here, did I have stuff in my hair?”

There are a few chuckles, and someone throws a balled up paper napkin at him.

There’s another short pause where nobody says anything, but then it’s like a dam breaks and everyone starts talking at once. Robin and Steve make comparisons with the Russians, the kids offer D&D analogies and half-baked scientific theories, and people ask Will and Jane what they think.

For the rest of the morning much discussion ensues, as well as the consumption of store-brand cookies and even more coffee, and you all try to fill in the blanks. Whilst some of the kids interject with ideas and suggestions, others sit quietly, mostly listening. You wonder quite how much secondhand trauma this is going to cause all of them.

As a group you eventually surmise that some shadowy branch of the military was battering Eddie and the others with all sorts of tests, and injecting them with unknown substances, goals unknown and refusing to tell anyone what they were.

Owens clearly never agreed with their approach, and it sounds like he tried to distance himself as much as possible.

The military finally took their experiments too far. Thinking they’d killed him, they eventually released Eddie’s body to his only family, Wayne, and allowed him to be buried.

Unbeknownst to them, their final experiment was the most successful, it just took longer to manifest than the others. Weeks, in fact. Just long enough for the scientists (if you could even call them that) to lose any expectation of a recovery, and for Owens and Wayne to organise a funeral.

Eddie had awoken, dazed, trapped and freezing and with no idea where he was, and had somehow managed to smash the lid of his coffin and scramble his way to the surface. On a rainy night, miles from anywhere.

Finally, Mike is the first to ask the question you think most of you have been contemplating.

“Dude, how did you even find us?”

At particularly painful points in his oration, Eddie has looked to you, seemingly finding comfort in your face, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he replies,

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I just had this… feeling… that I needed to come in this direction. And the closer I got, the more certain I was that this is where I’d find you.” Hurriedly, he looks around the rest of the group and adds, “Find you all.”

He carefully lays the hand not holding yours flat onto the table, and, eyes fixed on the faded floral tablecloth, he chokes back a sob as he asks a question that he’s clearly been holding back.

“Why didn’t anyone- Why didn’t you come find me?”

Robin grabs his hand across the table, wrapping it in both of hers, holding it tightly. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks.

“W-we didn’t know! They didn’t tell us anything about any lab. We thought you were dead. Eddie, that first night? They told us you’d died!”

Her voice cracks on the last word, and you see tears start to slowly run down her cheeks.

Eddie chokes, and his eyes lift to the ceiling.

Dustin’s the first to move as he scrapes his chair back and sprints around to Eddie, enveloping his shoulders and neck in a clumsy but aggressively enthusiastic hug as he mumbles into his friend’s shoulder,

“But you’re not dead. You’re not. You’re here, with us, now. You’re back, Eddie, you’re back...”

Lucas stands too, ruffling Eddie’s hair and half-hugging the top of his head with one arm, leaning his cheek against Eddie’s curls, and you lean into Eddie, placing your forehead against the side of his bicep.

Steve turns from where he’s been brewing even more coffee, and moves to place his hand on a patch of shoulder not covered by Dustin or Lucas, patting softly. As he turns back to the stove he comments,

“Yeah, man. D’you really think we wouldn’t’ve come got you? Fuck those guys and all their crappy experiments. No one does that to a member of The Party.”

You simultaneously feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tighten, and the rest of his body relax. Many of you are crying, the sleeves of Eddie’s sweater darkening in patches from the wet plops of Dustin’s tears.

Will and Jane are affected too, and you see their faces soften as they clasp each other's hands under the table.

Eddie’s breath deepens as he absorbs the love and affection of his friends. You guess he’s not used to this much positive attention, and has clearly received even less over the last few weeks.

You all sit in silence for a few long moments, allowing all this new information to sink in and emotions to settle.

Eventually the noise of the stove and the clattering of coffee supplies, together with a strong gust of wind and the increased pattering of leaves against the window, brings you all back to the room.

Eddie seems to have processed everything faster than the rest of you, his emotions shifting, and as Steve pours more coffee he becomes agitated, slamming his fists on the table, startling all of you with the ferocity of his movements.

You guess he’s angry not only at the testing he underwent, but that they lied to all of you, and let him feel hopeless, like nobody cared.

The kids move back as he stands and starts pacing, running his hands through his already-frizzy hair and shaking his head.

“FUCK! Those bastards! Not only did they use me as some kind of twisted lab rat, but they didn’t even tell you guys I was alive? And they let me think that none of you cared enough to come find me, visit me, get me out? GODDAMMIT!”

He slams a palm into the doorframe, and you all jump a little.

Turning back to the room, Eddie notices the effect he’s having on everyone, and, rubbing the back of his neck, says,

“I think I’m gonna go take a walk…”

He moves towards the back door, the expanse of the disused field behind the cabin seemingly the ideal place for him to get his head together.

But, spying the large axe leaning against the frame, he has a better idea.

“Hey, uh, do you guys have, like, logs ‘n’ shit that need chopping? I really need to, um, work through some stuff. Besides, it’s probably the least I can do, given how much heat and hot water I’ve already cost you all.”

He gives a sheepish snort and brings his hand to his face again.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Are you sure, Eddie? I mean, it’s been a stressful few days. Are you okay to be doing something so… physical?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m feeling a little… pent up. Could do with working some of it off, y’know?”

You nod, figuring all of you are going to need different ways to process this whole bizarre and unsettling situation.

Dustin and Mike find some old tan workboots in a closet, presumably left by the previous owner. They don’t fit perfectly, and it looks like something may have nested in one of them at some point, but they’ll do for now. Eddie pulls them on over his loaned sweats and socks, leaving them unlaced.

Robin offers him his leather jacket. She’s obviously had a go at cleaning off as much of the mud as she can, but you can all tell it’s never going to be quite the same. At least it’s dry now, and Eddie takes it gratefully.

He grabs the old axe and the small hatchet that you use to chop kindling, unlocks the back door and steps outside, closing it behind him.

Dustin wants to go out to him, but Robin grabs him and holds him in a tight hug, explaining that he needs some time to process stuff.

The others give him space, some staying at the kitchen table to process their thoughts, others retreating to the living room and diverting their thoughts with the crackling cartoons that break through the terrible TV signal.

You choose to keep an eye on Eddie, staying back a little from the back door so as not to alarm him, but keeping him within your eye line.

You see Eddie pace a little, muttering to himself, then he shakes his head as if to clear it.

He turns to the log pile and hefts the axe a couple of times, getting the feel of it. He lifts a couple of modestly sized logs onto the stump, wielding the axe above his head and splitting them easily. Almost… effortlessly.

He chops a few more, flinging them into a pile with ease, then moves to lift a few larger ones, breezing through them with the same ‘hot knife through butter’ nonchalance.

It’s the most physical activity you’ve ever seen him do, aside from lifting the odd amp or two, which always left him puffed out. But he’s sailing through the woodpile with barely any exertion.

You can see he’s still processing the contents of your morning, as his features screw up occasionally and grumbled words and what are probably profanities spill from his lips.

As he hefts the axe through the tough logs you can see his eyes are getting redder, and his skin appears paler. You can’t see his body, but the tendons on his hands and neck are popping starkly underneath his translucent skin. And, the wind has picked up considerably since he’s been outside, whipping loose leaves and twigs around the cabin just like it did last night.

Eventually, he starts on the biggest, gnarliest logs. The ones you guys would only attempt when you really, really needed the firewood.

You hear grunts, muffled by the back door, as he works the tougher wood.

The axe gets stuck partway through a particularly thick log, and with an animalistic grunt Eddie yanks the blade from it. Easily lifting the log in his arms, he notches his long fingers into the groove and, in a move that startles you, he rips it into two pieces with his bare hands.

By the back door you suppress a gasp, your hand flying across your mouth and your eyes going wide. You’re not sure whether you should go to him, try to comfort him, or leave him to work through this in whatever way he needs to.

You don’t get the chance to decide, as he finally gets to a particularly old and knotty log that none of you have been able to get anywhere close to splitting. As Eddie slams the axe down into it with a ferocity you didn’t think was possible, he gets it far further than any of you have so far, but again, the blade gets stuck.

The wind picks up even more, as Eddie picks up the axe, log attached, and heaves it around his head, sending it spinning across the back field as he lets out a loud, feral and painful-sounding yell.

Breathing deep for a couple of moments, he runs a hand down his face and begins to trudge across the bumpy earth to retrieve it, coping easily with the rough and uneven ground of the ploughed field and his ill-fitting boots. You can see he’s still yelling expletives and occasionally waving his arms and shouting up into the sky.

The distance that he’s managed to throw the axe is substantial enough that he shrinks in your field of vision by the time he reaches it. You can no longer make out his expression, but as he comes to a halt you do see him bend over and place his hands on his knees, watching his back heave as he takes a few more deep, steadying breaths.

He lifts the axe and heaves both it and the attached heavy log easily over his shoulder with one hand. You consider that you’ve never seen him lift anything with such ease, save maybe his leather jacket, flung over his back, dangling it from one finger on a hot day.

As he turns and starts making his way back to the house, you notice that the wind has started to die down and is whipping less of Eddie’s hair around his face, and leaves and twigs begin to fall to the ground.

You hadn’t realised Jane had come to join you at the back door. Despite not directly knowing Eddie before, she says, in her characteristically deadpan voice, “He is… different now. Isn’t he?”

You purse your lips and nod, quick and small, and find it remarkable that this seemingly awkward young woman, who’s endured so much at the hands of so many, has developed such insight and tenderness.

After removing the axe from the gnarly chunk of wood and placing it by the back door, Eddie spends a few minutes arranging the logs he’s split into neat piles beneath the small shelter. The skin around his eyes is less red now, and his general demeanour seems more relaxed, controlled. Perhaps this has helped after all.

He takes a couple of breaths and composes himself before he heads back towards the door, holding the axe in one hand and a stack of logs atop his other arm.

Bashful, and conscious that you’d rather he didn’t know that you’ve been watching him the entire time, you take a few steps backwards and make like you’re just now coming to the door, opening it for him with a broad smile and directing him to the place in the living room where you store the wood for the fire, thanking him for his efforts.

As he places the last of the wood and starts to take off his jacket, you notice that his hands are again torn and bloody, splinters sticking out every which way and an angry-looking blister on one palm.

You assume that he’s reopened his wounds from last night, but the positions and patterns don’t match up. Everything from last night has almost completely healed, and these are all new.

Regardless of the peculiarities, they need attention, so you instruct him,

“Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You send him to your bedroom as you grab some washcloths, a bowl of warm water and the first aid kit from the bathroom.

You sit him up against your headboard, setting up your supplies on the comforter. Figuring it’s the most practical position for you to be in, you straddle his knees and begin dabbing at his cut and splintered hands with antiseptic. Realising there’s too much debris in the way, and wincing at the sheer size and quantity of them, you grab some tweezers, removing the splinters of various sizes that have embedded into his fingers and palms.

As you swap back to using the wet cloths and begin cleaning the blood from his skin, you’re perhaps less surprised than you should be to find that the new injuries have already stopped bleeding, and some of the smaller ones even appear to be closing up, apparently heading the same way as the cuts on his face and feet from whatever happened last night.

You work quietly for a few moments before your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What was that? Outside, just now? You seem…”

“Different? Yeah, I know… Don’t ask me how it happened, but I feel different too. Stronger, faster…”

He glances at you through his bangs.

“Less in control…”

His brow is furrowed as he holds your gaze, and you guess he’s waiting for you to back off. You don’t.

“I guess they… changed me.”

You move to touch his chin gently with one hand, wanting to reassure him. You realise that by telling him this you’re going to reveal that you were watching him, but you forge ahead anyway.

“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend that whatever it is that I just saw wasn’t a little… unnerving. But I’ve never felt unsafe around you. Quite the opposite, in fact. And that hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will.”

He refuses to meet your gaze, and twists his battered hands together in his lap, seemingly fighting with himself.

“I should go. Leave you guys. You’re not safe with me here.”

A vice grip seizes your chest. All logic leaves you, and the only thing you can think about is never letting him go again.

“Eddie, no!”

“I don’t really know what their plan was, but I’m guessing they were trying to make me into a super soldier, or something. They’re not gonna stop. As soon as they find out what happened at the cemetery, they’re gonna try to find me. And if I could find you, they can find me.”

A ball of anxiety forms in you. You can’t let him go. You just can’t.

“I thought you were dead, we all did. I’ve only just found you again, after I thought I’d lost you forever. Please don’t say you’re going to leave?”

Your voice cracks and you swallow back a sob. You lurch forward and grip both of his hands with all the strength you have left, not caring that you’re getting his blood on you, and might even be hurting him.

If Eddie feels any pain, he doesn't flinch. But the sight of you falling to pieces in front of him, because of him, is apparently something he can’t bear.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay tonight, at least. Then we’ll try to figure something out. Maybe contact Owens, see if he knows anything. Alright?”

He raises his head and looks into your eyes now, as you snuffle a little and manage a small smile. He’s yours for tonight, at least.

No, not exactly yours, you have to remind yourself. He’s safe, with all of you, for tonight, at least.

Something else decides to jostle for prominence in your mind, and you ask him, quietly,

“How did you find us? Really. How did you know where to go?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before shifting slightly, and he returns the grip on your hands.

You think you hear a little trepidation in his voice as he speaks.

“I don’t know if this is going to sound crazy, but… what doesn’t these days, right? It’s like- Even before… everything, it’s like every time I left you I left a part of my soul with you. And… it would stay with you all the time we were apart. And then whenever I was with you I’d find it again. That’s how I found you. It was like I was searching for a piece of myself, and somehow I just knew where to find it.”

He goes quiet, dropping his chin to his chest again.

His words play on a loop in your head. Even before… I left a part of my soul with you… and whenever I was with you I’d find it...

You shift forwards even more, closing the gap between you, and the movement makes you become acutely aware of your proximity. You become conscious of the feel of his firm thighs between yours, how good it feels. How, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, you wish there weren’t these thin pieces of fabric between you.

Something sparks in your chest: Could he feel the same way as you?

Your voice trembles as you practically beg him,

“I don't want you ever to leave, Eddie. I don’t want us to ever be apart, and always be there for each other. I don’t want you to ever be missing a part of your soul again. I want to be with you, always.”

Eddie huffs out a sob of his own, lifting your hands to his and nuzzling his face into your knuckles. He takes one and slowly turns his head until his round nose connects with your curled fingers. And then, ever so slowly, he connects his lips with the soft, sensitive skin on your palm.

Tentatively, he moves a little and purses them against the inside of your wrist, lightly pressing them there, inhaling deeply and his breath shuddering slightly as he inhales your scent.

You notice both of your breathing has quickened. You can feel Eddie’s as it passes over your skin, and you feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Eddie looks over at you. His body may have changed in myriad ways, but his eyes remain the same. They’re still the huge, beautiful, warm pools of cacao that have drawn you in since the moment you met. It’s the tether that makes you realise that no matter how else he might’ve changed, deep down he’s still Eddie. Your Eddie.

You move your other hand, gently taking his wrist, and move his free hand up to your face. You close your eyes as you softly kiss his palm, and then move his hand to cup your cheek.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, Eddie moves his thumb and touches it to the very corner of your mouth. You feel a heat in your belly and you turn your head towards it, skimming it over your lips.

Your eyes flick between his chocolate orbs as Eddie bends his thumb ever so slightly. The pad of it pulls at the plush of your lower lip a tiny amount, but it’s enough to create a gap.

Without thinking you start to open your jaw, and he begins to move forwards. As he pushes into your waiting mouth all you can think about is tasting him, and your tongue starts to move. Just as the tip of it is about to make contact with Eddie’s thumb, there’s a jarring yell.

“Hey, everybody! Grub’s up!”

You pull apart with a start, both inhaling sharply.

It’s Robin, calling from the kitchen. Of course you’re grateful that the mums never allow the kids to arrive empty handed, but a large part of you wishes that you and Eddie could’ve had just a little more time to explore… whatever this is.

You let out nervous chuckles as you smile softly at one another, and hold each other’s gaze for probably little longer than is strictly necessary before you gather up the medical supplies and you both stand.

You can’t help but take Eddie’s hand in yours as you pull him towards the kitchen, encouraging him to follow lest he misses out on the delicacy that is Dustin’s mom’s substantial contribution.

“C’mon, Claudia’s lasagnas are totally legendary. It may sound simple, but combined with Mrs Sinclair’s recipe for garlic bread, I promise you, you’re about to have a near-spiritual culinary experience.”

Still feeling the heat of what just occurred in your room you busy yourself with packing away the first aid kit, and then elect to sit across the table from Eddie. You convince yourself that you’re not avoiding him, simply allowing the kids the chance to get close to him for a little while.

As if reading your mind, Dustin immediately plants himself in the chair next to Eddie, swiftly followed by Mike on his other side. Lucas sits next to Dustin, and Will slides in next to Mike. They chatter excitedly about campaigns and creatures and characters, and to see Eddie flanked by his adoring sheep brings a different kind of warmth to your chest.

The conversation remains light over dinner. Jokes are cracked, teasing occurs, and you’re pleased everyone’s getting a break from the tension and horrors.

The culinary delights are as good as you’d promised, and Eddie hums and moans at the delicious bounty before him. He remains pale, but he’s definitely regained some strength, vigour.

He glances over at you after taking an especially large mouthful of the meaty dish, and after you stop giggling at his uncouth antics he grins at you, tomato sauce staining his lips and the sides of his mouth, confirming,

“You’re right, this is goddamn heavenly!”

At another point he takes a particularly large bite of some soaked bread, and herb-flecked garlic butter oozes all over his thumb. Your eyes are drawn to it as he brings it to his mouth and presses it between his plump lips, and your eyes connect across the table as he sucks it off, twisting the digit and temporarily giving himself the most salacious pout. He spots you looking, and leaves his thumb in his mouth for what you consider is altogether too long before pulling it out with a pop. You gulp audibly and shift in your seat, grateful for the general clamour disguising your arousal.

You haven’t discussed as a group whether or where Eddie’s going to stay, though it seems to be unspoken between all of you that of course he’s going to remain here until you can all figure out what to do next. You decide not to raise the earlier conversation you had about him possibly leaving.

Dustin’s the first to broach the subject, asking,

“So, where’re you sleeping tonight, Eddie? You wanna come bunk with us in the warmest room in the house?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to extol the virtues of the open fire. His excitement is palpable, and you envy the optimism of youth that can make even the least appealing flat surfaces sound like an enticing bedspace.

You interject on Eddie’s behalf, suggesting,

“Hey guys, I know it would be the coolest sleepover ever, but I think Eddie might’ve earned the luxury of an actual bedroom after what he’s been through recently, don’t you think?”

Dustin looks crestfallen, but recovers quickly, agreeing with an only slightly pouty,

“I suppoooooose…”

Without looking at the others, you turn to Eddie and proffer,

“You’ll stay in my room, right?”

Eddie nods, his curls bouncing, as he agrees, perhaps a little too quickly,

“Of course, yep, that sounds… entirely fine.”

You miss how Robin and Steve glance at each other, Steve raising an eyebrow as Robin smirks at him.

There’s a quick clean up as dishes are done and pans are left to soak. Craving normalcy, you pile into the small living room and manage to make it through about two thirds of another of Keith’s loaned films before blinks get longer, eyes start to close and heads start to loll.

Robin chivvies the teens to get their sleeping bags set up, and there’s the typical grousing and bickering as everyone tries to use the bathroom at the same time. You think at one point three of the boys are trying to use the sink simultaneously, jostling each other and spitting far too enthusiastically in an effort to spray their compatriots. It’s a small nugget of frivolity that makes you consider the possibility that you might just all be okay.

Steve moves the small electric heater from his room back to yours, and you retrieve Eddie’s clothes from the drier. He slips into his Hellfire shirt and clean boxers as you change into your Garfield nightshirt, and then starts to grab blankets from beside you.

Confused, you question,

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh, uh… I just thought I’d sleep on the floor, y’know, give you the bed.”

You’re aghast.

“Don't be silly, Eddie. There’s plenty of room. Sleep up here, please? I mean, it’s not like we never have before. All those nights in the trailer when I got too baked to make it home, or you got too baked to drive me, or both…”

You both chuckle at the fond memory. You wonder whether you’ll ever let on that sometimes you were faking it, or deliberately took too many drags from the last blunt, just so you could spend the night with him, in his bed.

He throws the blankets back over and, smiling, climbs in beside you.

Turning off your bedside light, the room becomes bathed in the low, pale blue glow of the moonlight.

You both lie on your backs, staring at the ceiling. Somehow it’s easier to talk like this.

Thumbing the skull ring on your hand, you want to talk about the… other thing that happened, but have no idea how to bring it up.

As you’re ruminating, Eddie beats you to it.

“I hope it wasn’t weird? Earlier, I mean. It was…”

Your thighs clench a minuscule amount as you recall the feel of him between them, and the lightest brush of your lips on various parts of each other, and you finish his sentence for him.

“Nice. It was nice.”

Shit. It was so much more than nice, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, or anything. I guess I’m just a little touch-starved, y’know…?”

“I don’t. Honestly, I’m just glad to be close to you again. And if I made you feel uncomfortable then I’m really sorry…”

You can tell by the minor shifts in the covers and from his general demeanour that Eddie’s fidgeting with his hands.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

There’s another pause, and Eddie huffs out another small breath before he continues,

“Listen, I know the past twenty-four hours has basically been weirdness personified, and I don’t want to make it even weirder, but…can I… maybe… hold you?”

“I think weird is probably the understatement of the century, but it’s okay. And… I think I’d like that.”

You shift closer to one another under the covers, and you turn onto your side as Eddie moves himself to spoon behind you in an echo of your position last night.

He tentatively drapes his arm over you. He feels warmer than when you last did this, and more relaxed, and you press slightly backwards towards him as much as you dare, letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh.

You take Eddie’s hand in yours, threading your fingers with his, running yours over and between his digits and turning his forelimb this way and that. He hums into your hair and lets you move his arm however you like.

But you stop when you glance down in the dim light and spot a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist that you’ve not seen before. It’s definitely new. You know this because you’ve spent hours tracing over every inch of his inked skin, fantasising about following the images with more than just your eyes, imagining using your fingers, your hands, your lips, your tongue…

But this one’s not like any of his others. This one is small and simple, and looks like the outlines of two soft-cornered rectangles with a blocky W between them. It takes you a moment to process what you’re looking at, realising it looks a lot like one you’ve seen before. She’s had it covered with a delicate floral design (having connections in government really can get you anything, including underage ink), but you remember what it looked like.

Jane’s was a rectangle stacked on top of two horizontal lines, but when you looked at it from a different angle it became numbers: 011.

Looking at Eddie’s, you move the position of his arm. It turns the image a little, suddenly giving it more meaning, as you see it depicts a different number: 030.

Quietly, you croak,

“Eddie, what’s thi-?”

You don’t have a chance to process what any of it could mean as Eddie suddenly tenses, his head lifted from the pillows and his face flicking towards the window and back to you.

His brow furrows as he murmurs,

“Do you hear that?”

You strain your ears and hear nothing at first. But then, gradually, and from far away, you hear the disturbingly familiar sounds of flapping, shuffling and screeching.

Goosebumps appear on your arms and the back of your neck as you abruptly recall the only things you know of that make sounds like these:

Creatures from the Upside Down…

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

Thanks so much for reading!

I really hope you enjoyed this part. The next one will probably be the last, and the taglist is open (as is my general one), just say the word, friend 🙂

Comments and reblogs mean the world to me - please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: Did anyone spot the LOTR, Captain America and/or Make Up references? 🧝‍♂️🪓👍 (Also, completely by accident, AQPDO too 😜, and ETA: this and THIS 🫠)

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @ali-r3n @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @jasminelafleur @corrodedcoffincumslut @kthomps914 @iletmytittiestitty-russ @findmeincorneliastreet @tlclick73 @sapphire4082 @razzeith @cupid-club @storiesbyrhi @eris-rose-86 @micheledawn1975 @bl0ssomanddie @veemoon @sunshinepeachx @writinginthetwilight @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @idkitsem @em0220 @kookygranger @fanfics-i-find-here @the-unforgivenn @b3lladoonna @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @amandahobblepot @daisy-munson @sheneedsrocknroll92 @maedesculpaeusoubi @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @kellsck @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @babydollface1165

(I’m getting a bit tangled up with my taglists so I hope nobody’s mortally offended if I either have or haven’t included them!)

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

[insomniac4000]

Jelly Legs- ArthurTV

Becoming a camerawoman for ChrisMD meant two things;

Standing out in all weathers for hours on end watching people try to shoot a ball into the net and

Trying not to stare at ArthurTV while doing number one.

You were first introduced to Arthur on your first day on the job, you were obviously nervous but professional and found it sweet Arthur spent his down time when he wasn’t taking part in the video, asking you questions. It was a ritual now, after shooting had wrapped for the day Arthur would stop for you a chat, one of his questions was always ‘what are you doing after this?’ so you would tell him your plans whether it be with some friends or mostly going home and edit the photos from the shoot before watching some Netflix and Arthur’s response would always be ‘cool,’ and a nod before he stuttered and walked off to speak to Chris.

“Do you mind that Arthur has a crush on your videographer?” George asked when him and Chris were getting into an Uber to go home after another very long shoot. Your day was far from over still, you had to take the equipment back to the office and back up the SD cards before heading home.

“Nope, it’s been what? Eight months now and it’s still the exact same routine, he stares at her, talks to her about animal mating rituals, she follows him around with a camera for apparent content,” Chris said doing the finger quotes before continuing “Then he asks her what she’s doing that evening but never follows it up with oh you’re not doing anything? Maybe we could go out? There’s nothing to be worried about, Arthur is a man of habit,” the small man explained as he played with his phone. George nodded in agreement but just because he agreed with it didn’t necessarily mean that was the way it had to be.

“Has she said anything to you about possibly liking him back?” George asked raising his scarred eyebrow.

“No, I don’t know a ton about her outside of work, she tends to keep things professional mostly. I know she loved science fiction films so they’d be a good pairing in that sense,” Chris replied with a shrug and George nodded.

“When’s the next time you’re going out with your team? Let’s invite her along, I think it’s time you got to know her a little bit more socially,” George suggested and Chris nodded, just because he was unlucky in love didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to help out a friend.

“So if you fancy is we’re all going to go out for dinner and then some drink’s next Friday?” Chris asked you the next time you were both in the office, setting the wheels of the plan in motion.

“Oh wow, yeah sounds good,” you nodded before looking back to your screen.

“Really? Okay great,” Chris replied and you looked at him a little and frowned.

“Unless you were just asking me to be polite…”

“Oh no no no! It’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to say yes so quickly. I’ve kind of noticed you tend to keep to yourself quite often. Its one of the reasons why we’re doing this actually, to get to know everyone outside of work, I like to think it’s quite cool and relaxed here and I’m not some horrible slave driver boss,” Chris explained and you nodded. You did keep to yourself often and people had sometimes pegged you as unfriendly when you were simply unsure.

“Sure, it sounds good,” you smiled and Chris nodded before adding the line that made your heart thump a little.

“George and Arthur will be there too,” You needed a new outfit.

After work that day you went shopping, it wasn’t your favourite thing to do in the world and it was something you could do quite quickly, it was often the case that whenever you had money and needed to buy something there was never anything, here you now were in Westfield trudging through each shop in a desperate attempt to try and find something that made her look good but also make it look like she wasn’t making too much of an effort. She picked up a black cami with a floral pattern and lace trim, feeling the material between her fingers, maybe this would work some jeans? Suddenly she heard a voice the other side of her which sent chills right down to her bone.

“You know you suit dresses a lot more,” the dark voice said in a low tone, you froze and kept trying to tell yourself that this couldn’t be happening, there was no way he was here, it all had to be a misunderstanding, a terrible one at that.

You finally mustered the courage to look up and there he was in front of you, the one person you never wanted to see ever again in your life, the person who you thought you would never see again, sure the legal side of things had ended but perhaps naively you thought he wasn’t so stupid that he would seek you out and talk to you again. You pulled the hanger with the top on it from the rail and marched to the till, hoping that human interaction with someone else could firstly, cause him to back off and secondly it would stop you from bursting into tears. You bought the top but it only kept the tears at bay for those five minutes as the second you left the shop they started to flow. Your vision was blurry from tears no matter how hard you tried to wipe them away as they were being replaced so quickly. You could see a man approach you and you started to panic, your breath quickened in pace and you started to wheeze ever so slightly, feeling the intense squeezing sensation in your chest, a panic attack. You hadn’t had one of these in over four months, you were doing so well. The figure got closet but you noticed the hair wasn’t long and brown so it couldn’t have been him. But he was a big guy, you could tell he was definitely a gym bunny, it wasn’t until you could hear his voice that you started to relax.

“Y/N, Y/N it’s me Reev, what’s happened? Are you okay? Let’s get you somewhere a bit quieter,” he said softly and you nodded. Your main work was for Chris but as he didn’t have a crazy upload schedule you would often do other work in your down time mostly for other Youtubers as they knew your work from Chris and or shared an office with him so it was easy to coordinate.

You could only nod, not having the strength or ability to speak in that moment. It was only when you started to walk you noticed Theo who walked on the other side of you, you were squished between the pair and managed to find some seats in a quieter part of the shopping centre off from the main stretch of shops.

“Do you live far from here?” Theo asked scrolling on his phone for Chris’s number, not knowing who else to contact. Your breathing was still very erratic so you shook your head, it was roughly a ten or fifteen minute bus ride away so an Uber would take closer to ten minutes if not a little bit less.

“Do you have a housemate or anything we can call?” Reev asked but once again you shook your head as you gripped onto the bench so tightly while trying to steady your breathing. You lived alone, you had lived alone since you and him broke up, him. You couldn’t believe after so long you would ever bump into him, let alone him having the audacity to speak to you and now after months of hard work he was at the forefront of your mind yet again.

“Hey Chris, are you home? We’ve got a bit of a situation here,” Theo asked Chris who he had now gotten on the phone, he explained the situation with the little information he had and Chris agreed you could go to his if you needed somewhere. You were starting to feel incredibly embarrassed but still hadn’t gained your ability to speak, or regulate your breathing properly so off to Chris’s you went with Theo and Reev in tow.

“What’s happened?” Chris asked once you were settled on the sofa, a mug of tea in hand, a very concerned ArthurTV and George sitting on the other sofa staring at you waiting for answers.

“I saw my ex,” you managed to spit out, staring at the wall in front of you, you had a thousand yard stare, it was obvious you had been traumatised by something.

“Must have been a pretty shitty ex for you to react like that,” Theo noted. Arthur frowned, the thought of you being so upset by someone did not make him feel good, from the little he knew of you he had only known you as an incredibly sweet person.

“He was. I was so surprised to see him because well…” You sighed, it was all going to come out anyway you may as well let the cat out of the bag. You took a deep breath to compose yourself before speaking again “He went to prison, he was violent.” You stated before downing a big gulp of tea. An uncomfortable and stunned silence filled the room as you looked around to see everyone’s faces, there was a mixture of pity, shock and anger, it was usually what you got.

“Did you know he was out?” Arthur was the one to break the silence, he needed to know more, he needed to know if you were okay.

“Yeah, there’s no restraining order or anything, not anymore. I had a no contact order but he didn’t go to prison because of me, he had a fight with someone else, but still I just didn’t think he was stupid enough to talk to me in that shop. If you guys hadn’t have seen me I don’t know what would have happened,” you burst into tears again as everyone looked at each other not knowing what to do for a crying woman. Chris gave you a hug first, some of the others did too in an attempt to cheer you up, you spent the next hour telling everyone your story, asking their questions to the best of your ability.

“That’s why I keep to myself a lot and keep things professional, I’m so so scared to let anybody else in,” you explained, your gaze flicking to Arthur briefly.

“I can’t say I blame you, but you know if you need anything you can call on any of us right?” George offered as he nudged Arthur a little and the brown eyed boy nodded profusely.

“You know you’re safe with us,” Arthur added and you nodded, you did feel safe with them, but could you open up in the way you wanted to?

Armed with their new knowledge the boys had well and truly embraced you into their inner circle, the best part was as far as you could tell they weren’t just doing it because they felt sorry for you but they were genuine.

The work drinks were a huge success, you spent a lot of time talking to people but mostly you chatted to Arthur, George and Chris although pleased the two of you were talking were now very aware of the complication, as was Arthur but he was determined to not treat you any differently, in fact he was even more determined as he wanted to show you just how you should be treated, you deserved the very best.

“Do you think somewhere in China there’s English takeaway serving up questionable fish and chips and steak and kidney pies?” You asked Arthur as the pair of you tucked into a takeaway. The two of you had started to hang out together just you two. It was purely platonic, you had mentioned you had wanted to learn how to play chess so now it was a regular thing going over to his flat to play a game, eat and talk about your views of the world. For some reason this particular evening had ended up being a little boozy, Arthur often liked a drink but this evening he seemed to be drinking a little but more and also tonight you were in a mood to match him somewhat.

“Maybe, I want to go to China. I had a great time in Sri Lanka, I need to go to Asia a lot more plus it’s so diverse,” Arthur mentioned to you, you hadn’t travelled a lot but it was on your bucket list.

“I’ve never been outside of Europe, I’d really love to do something like that,” you replied as you ate your food.

“Maybe we could do something together? Only if you wanted to of course…” Arthur asked trailing off at the end as his shyness kicked in.

“That sounds amazing,” you smiled and blushed before eating some more of your dinner.

The two of you continued to eat in a comfortable silence, you always insisted on washing up when you went over to his flat despite his insistence it was fine but the two of you had a routine now, you washed and he dried and put away. You handed him a plate, the blush rising very quickly on your cheeks as your hand brushed with his momentarily.

“You’re very cute when you blush,” Arthur said, his eyes widened, he didn’t realise he had said it until the words fell out of his mouth, he stuttered a little as he tried to come up with something to say and now it was his cheeks which were the red ones. You couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked all flustered.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out eventually and you frowned a little and shook your head.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s always nice to hear a compliment. You’re cute when you blush too,” you replied looking down a little picking up the fork and cleaning it so the last of the washing up was over.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m coming on too strong or that I’m only after something. There’s some nice guys out there and I really hope you believe you deserve something nice,” Arthur gushed, he didn’t know why he was saying this let alone why he was saying it now but he couldn’t help himself, the words were spilling out of his mouth he just couldn’t hold onto them anymore. You looked at Arthur carefully, trying to ignore the thumping in your chest. You reached out and grabbed his hand lightly walking back to the sofa where you both sat, hands still entwined and now resting on his knee.

“I know, I think you’re one of the good ones. I didn’t say anything before because of my past and I was scared to get into anything but I don’t want my past to effect my future anymore.” You admitted and Arthur had a very small and hopeful smile on his face.

“Does that mean we can maybe go out for dinner next time?” He asked his voice shaking ever so slightly.

“I’d really like that,” you replied with a giggle. This was going to be different in the best way possible.

[sanjisboyfie]

toji fluff hcs.

requested, and i had sm fun writing this bc I DO AGREE ANON the toji x male reader tag is just full of smut atp there is never any fluff T.T i hope u enjoy lovely

toji x male reader <3 takes place before canon (mamaguro kinda dont exist sawry)

— the thing is, toji has a very, very thick wall around his heart and he rarely lets anyone in, ever. that's why! in this hc im gonna say that you two met via his job and just worked really well as partners. and then overtime, the two of you just got closer until finally toji makes a move on you.

the two of you were sitting at a restaurant, going over the recent job that you just finished. toji hummed at what you were saying, taking a swig of his beer as he remained eye contact with you.

recently, he's been seeing you in a different light. recently as in the past couple of months. he's just been taking note of everything you've done and how attractive you are when doing them. after he noticed he was thinking these things, he just accepted the fact he had a major crush on you and shrugged it off.

a part of him expected it to happen - how could he not have some sort of romantic feelings for you when you were so witty, strong, and intelligent. he was bound to catch some feelings for you, whether he wanted to or not.

he accepted it really quickly and decided he wanted to make it obvious sooner or later. the fact was he wouldn't know how you felt unless he initiated something.

so as he sat across from you, elbows resting on the table, until he got an idea.

"got somethin'," he said, motioning to his cheek. before you could wipe it off though, he dragged his thumb over your skin and collected the sauce of the food that you were eating onto his digit. he sucked it clean off, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. "wait, missed a spot, c'mere,"

he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, chaste kiss before smirking at your stunned expression, "got it,"

after that, you obviously questioned him because what the fuck. toji just shrugs, explains how he's liked you for some time and decided to make it known now. he goes on to explain that since you're both adults, you could compromise a mature way of going about your relationship on the off-chance you didn't like him back (he's shitting bricks when he talks about that part though, you just can't tell-)

you return his feelings after getting over the initial shock.

and that was toji's unromantic way of confessing to you, but still, it got the job done and ever since that day the two of you couldn't be happier.

— contrary to popular belief, i think that toji is a big romantic. when he finds the right person, he wants it to be known that he's interested in them, loyal, and a devoted lover. in his own ways, he gives a lot of romantic attention to you and the time you spend together. even if he's dead broke, he'll find a way to make ends meet in making your relationship feel as special as it is to him.

"c'mon, baby," he goads you into grabbing his hand, rolling his eyes when you shoot him a look. "let's go, the reservation isn't gonna be waiting for anyone else but us,"

"yeah, how did you do this though? toji, this place is so expensive, are you sur-"

he kisses you to shut you up, hand caressing your cheek as he speaks to you in a low voice, "i got it all handled, don't worry about it," that translates to you = i pulled a couple of strings by threatening the boss of this place to let us eat here for free. but you couldn't will yourself to care because it was the thought that counts! plus, he went through all that effort just to secure you two a romantic evening together.

so you ruffled his messy dark locks and allowed him to guide you inside the lavish restaurant. he smirked in content, kissing the top of your head before securing you two your promised table.

—

on your anniversary, he showers you in so much love and affection it's insane. he doesn't have the money to bring about the most lavish celebration, unfortunately, but he does make up for it by being extra doting.

"love you so much," is the first thing he mumbles into your skin. it takes you a second to register why he was being so lovey-dovey, but when you remember it was because the calendar marks two years of officially being together, your heart warms.

toji has a good memory, remembers all the important dates and what you like and don't like. he's got it all stores in his memory under the "everything about [name]" folder there, that has other information such as your food preferences, what you like to wear, what you enjoy watching on TV, etc.

his hands run up and down your sides, pinching your nipple to get you awake and laughing when you smack him with the pillow. "sorry, just wanted to get you up so we don't waste our entire day in bed!"

"what if i wanted to just be in bed with you?" you asked, rubbing your chest with an annoyed look on your face.

"sorry, baby boy, but no can do," toji says, peppering kisses on your face, "got the whole day planned out in my head," you ignore his loving kisses that start trailing to you neck.

"mhm and what's that?"

"it's a surprise, don't ruin it," he warns you in an oddly serious tone, "want to make today special, let me make it special, boy,"

you laugh at his seemingly annoyed tone, but let him have his moment - not pressing for anymore answers.

— not the biggest on public affection, but doesn't hide the fact that he's yours and you're his. always has his arms around your shoulders or waist, sometimes pecks your cheek. but that's as far as it goes with pda. verbally, on the other hand, he's always mentioning you. even in brief interactions with other people, he's slipping mentions of you into conversation with such ease and smoothness.

"will that be all today?" the barista asks, eyeing toji up and down. and he's not a stupid guy, he notices it easily.

so to assert himself, he clears his throat and looks over the menu, "nah, actually, let me get a cinnamon bun for my boyfriend," he says, pulling out his wallet and taking out some cash, "he's been wanting somethin' sweet for a while, so i guess i can treat him to this," he comments, looking back at you with a smile. you were already seated at the table as he ordered, offering him a wave before looking back out the window.

the barista is obviously dejected when he mentions you, but he's nothing but prideful and satisfied. serves her right.

—

"didn't [name] already tell you we won't be taking the job? we got our entire week already planned out, we can't fit in another mission," toji said over the phone. it was one of the rare instances he was turning down the opportunity to make money, but he didn't feel bad or guilty about it.

you and him had a whole week planned together, it's been in the calendar for months now and he wasn't going to ruin the rare one-on-one time he could have with you by being greedy with some extra cash.

in the past, he might've. but you changed him, in a good way. and he wasn't going to make it seem like he valued cash over you because he definitely didn't.

"i wasn't aware that [name] spoke for the both of you? y'know, if you take him out of the equation, toji, you actually make more money-"

toji almost growled, "he fucking said no, that means i said no, too. don't be an asshole right now or i might really get pissed. from now on, whatever my man says think about it as if he's speaking on behalf of both of us. same goes for me. so listen closely when i say this, cause i'm sure he'd say the same thing to you right now: fuck off!"

he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the table, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"everything alright, babe? you were yelling?" you shout from your shared bedroom and toji visibly relaxes after hearing your voice.

"nah, everythin's alright, doll, don't worry about it," he calls back, kicking his feet up onto the table and spreading his arms against the couch cushions, "hurry your ass down here, though, or else i'm starting without you!"

— huge believer in cuddling, loves, loves just holding you in his arms. it's the one time he really feels as if his stress just washes away. he's a big guy, so he usually just ends up completely blanketing over your own body. but usually, he settles for just being the big spoon and staying satisfied like that. sometimes, though, he will want to just have you completely laid out on top of him as you act as some sort of weighted blanket. that's if he's really, really stressed and just needs to be reminded that you're there for him.

his hands rest on your hips as he's laid flat on his back, holding you in place on top of him. you have been struggling to get comfortable for the past five minutes and he had to bite his tongue from saying a snarky comment to you.

"fuck, toji, it's like i'm sleeping on a rock," you complain, pushing yourself up from his torso and glaring at him, "can't i just sleep next to you like a normal person,"

he keeps his eyes shut, not bothering to wake himself from his semi-sleepy state, "[name], just stay still for a second and you'll eventually get sleepy,"

"easy for you to say when you're on the comfort of the mattress,"

"don't you say my boobs make for good pillows or something," he groans, finally cracking one eye open to weakly glare at you, "just use them as your pillows and count fucking sheep,"

"but your-"

"shh, you big baby, i just need this for tonight," he promptly shuts you up but pushing his finger on your lips. in any other instance, that would've just pissed you off even more, but seeing how genuinely tired and needy he was, you let it slide. just this once.

you settled back on his chest, running your fingers up and down his sides to give some sort of comfort.

"love you, toji," you breathe out, barely loud enough for him to hear.

but he does, and he squeezes your sides to show that he did, kissing the top of your head and whispering it back before he's lulled to his own slumber.

— always thinking about you. he's only concerned with you. every single other person in the world can fuck themselves, he just cares about you and wants to make sure you're safe.

"where's [name]?" were the first words he asked their employer, looking around the office space in search of your h/c hair.

"he just went to get himself some water-" as toji is informed of that, he's standing up out of the seat he was in and is going to leave in search of you. "he should be back in a couple short moments,"

"hm, don't care, i'm going to look for him and then we can start this meeting," toji said, not giving another glance to the guy that was going to give the both of you a job to finish.

oddly enough, the meeting was held in a corporate looking building and toji was concerned on your whereabouts. what if these assholes had some fucked up trick up their sleeve and were going to use you as leverage to get to him? toji wouldn't put it past them, he's messed with more than a couple powerful folks back in his day.

it could bite him in the ass someday and he really didn't want to risk that chance affecting you.

"toji? what are you doing here?" you ask, coming towards him with two paper cups of water in your hands.

"looking for you, babe," he easily responds, looking at the water in interest, "where'd that come from?"

"they had pitchers in their breakroom and i decided-"

"could have poision in them," toji said off handedly, looking at the contents and his face screwing up in distaste, "hold off on drinking it for now, these guys can be unpredictable sometimes,"

taking his warnings seriously, you don't sip from the cup at all and walk back with him to the meeting room. his hand rests on your waist protectively as the two of you walk through the halls, glaring at anyone who stares for a bit too long.

like a personal guard dog, toji is always standing at attention and assuming the worst of people. but don't worry, he doesn't mind. if it means it keeps you safe and in his arms, he'll be as paranoid as one can get and not have an issue with that at all.

— at the end of the day, toji doesn't listen to anyone, but you. it's funny how obediant you can get this absolute unit of man to act. he tries not to make it so obvious, but when he's hanging off of every word you say and acting at your beck and call, it's already obvious to everyone around you where his priorities are at.

"toji, don't touch that - the sign says not to touch,"

"if i wanna touch it, i will," toji says with a shrug and smirk. but then he notices the warning look you give him as his fingers inch closer to the display. he clicks his tongue in annoyance, dropping his hand to his side as he muttering under his breath, "didn't wanna even touch it, anyway, tch,"

or another time when he's giving the waiter an earful for not remembering something in your order. he thinks he's doing you a favor by speaking up for you, but in reality, you just didn't want to make the waiter's life harder than it already is.

"he asked specifically for you guys to put it on the side since he doesn't lik-"

"baby, it's fine, just drop it," you sigh, rubbing your forehead with a tired look in your eyes. he's about to protest, a scowl on his face as he thinks about the waiter incompentence. but with one look from you and a calm, "toji, enough," reaching his ears, he's standing down and shutting up.

the waiter shoots you a thankful look before running off to the kitchen with your plate of food, going off to correct his mistakes.

"couldn't hurt you to speak more nicely to people," you say, grabbing his hand across the table and shooting him a look. he scoffs, taking your hand in his and calming himself down using your touch.

toji only ever listens to one person in his life and it's you. you're just really lucky he loves you so much because if it was any other person, he'd be doing their head in. he sighs, thinking of the affects you've had on him and his own steel, hard heart.

he can't help but be thankful. he kisses the back of your hand silently, squeezing it in his hold once more before shooting you a small, barely noticeable smile.

"if that fuck ass even thinks about looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his one more time, though, i can't promise i won't nail him right in the face," and there's your familiar, stubborn toji back again, easily threatening a poor guy that's just doing his job.

[bri-cheeses]

Jerseys vs. Hoodies - Part 3

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 662 | Part 2 can be found here |

-

“Merlin, you two are hopeless,” Regulus mutters under his breath.

Evan goes tense and looks over to see Barty’s reaction, but Barty is much too preoccupied with staring at Evan’s torso. It’s slightly unsettling, to be honest.

“Bee?” he prompts. “What are you looking at?”

Barty’s eyes climb up from Evan’s chest to his eyes, causing Evan to shiver.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” he says.

Evan breathes in sharply.

“Oh,” he manages, then tries his hardest not to stumble over his words as he blurts, “I can take it off if you want. It was just the closest piece of clothing by my bed—” a blatant lie— “and I didn’t look at it before putting it on—” another lie— “and I’m sorry, I’ll take it off right now and—”

Barty’s hand covering his mouth cuts him off before he can start spiraling.

“It looks good on you,” he says, holding eye contact with Evan, who can feel Barty’s heartbeat against his lips. There’s something deeply intimate about the moment, and Evan doesn’t dare break eye contact as Barty slowly lowers his hand and opens his mouth to say something.

“Merlin,” Reg mutters again, because of course, “take the bedroom eyes somewhere far away from me, please.”

Evan immediately wants to scream at him, because that’s the second time today that Reg has ruined one of Evan’s moments with Barty. But the damage has been done, and he can feel the shift in energy before Barty even says anything.

“I mean, we can if Evan wants to.” Barty grins wolfishly up at Evan, eyeing him in a way that’s downright sinful. Evan tries not to feel too disappointed at the change in topic. After all, this is exactly what he had signed up for.

“Not today, Bee,” Evan murmurs as he turns back to his work. It might just be the hardest he’s ever had to try to focus on schoolwork. “I need to finish this essay.”

There’s a beat of silence as Evan scans through his previous work in an effort to resume his earlier train of thought, Barty a tempting distraction to his left. Barty tends to have this effect on him. Especially when he looks at Evan like he wants to drag him to the dorm and not let him come down for a good long while.

“Barty’s feeling neglected, Evan,” Regulus proclaims, breaking the silence.

Evan can’t help it. He looks over to the boy beside him, and sure enough, Barty’s gone back to pouting. Seriously, he needs to stop with this whole “wanting Evan’s attention” thing, or Evan’s going to get the wrong idea.

Evan aims his next words at Regulus, because it’s just easier.

“Tell him to get over it,” he says.

“He says to get over it,” Reg parrots, and Barty glares at him with enough force to make a weaker man wither.

But Regulus just blinks calmly and dips his quill into his ink pot, then writes his name on his essay with a flourish.

“Done,” he pronounces. “Now, I’m going to go get some dinner. Have fun and please don’t burn the library down.”

“Reg, we still have another twenty-ish minutes until dinner starts,” Barty points out, very obviously ignoring that last barb.

“He’s going to see Potter,” Evan stage-whispers. Barty snickers as Regulus’s face goes red.

“You know,” Regulus begins, narrowing his eyes at them, “before you said that I almost felt bad about leaving the two of you here alone together, considering everything going on between you, but now I’m actually pretty interested to see how this all plays out. Have fun dancing around each other like always,” he finishes, gathering his stuff.

Barty and Evan are both stunned into silence as Reg stands up and begins to walk away.

Only Barty recovers in time to call after him as he leaves, “Nice jersey, Reg,” and Evan groans because now is most definitely not the time.

Regulus simply gives them the finger in response, then disappears around the corner.

-

(Part 4 will be coming out on Saturday)

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 6)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Protective Mel <3

Warnings: Smut, flirting, arguments, and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MYGOD. @icannolongercountmyfandoms is the one you can thank for a new chapter bc she LITERALLY threatened me with BODILY HARM /j

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A soft knock on your office door drew your attention from your desktop monitor to the sweet face of Melissa Schemmenti. You had been ordering parts on a vehicle currently in your shop when her presence delightfully interrupted your work. 

Leaning back in your desk chair, you rest your hands on your thighs as you look her over. She wore leather pants and a form fitting top that only reminded you that it had been weeks since you last fooled around with the beautiful redhead. You spoke with a smirk, your eyes obviously wandering to admire her entire body, “What do I owe the pleasure of having Ms. Schemmenti in my office?”

Mel adored the way you stared, allowing the door to shut behind her as she inched deeper into the office. Her eyes scanned the walls littered with articles about the auto shop that had been in business for decades - opened by your great-uncle in the 70s. She murmured her reply without looking at you, “Just thought I’d drop by...” 

���I saw you less than 12 hours ago. I can’t believe you miss me already.” Your eyes were glued to her ass as she turned her back to you. 

Melissa kept her back to you as she spoke, slowly walking the perimeter of the office to skim the framed headlines. She returned the playful banter with a monotone, “I’m just here to make sure you are doin’ your job and not just daydreamin’ about me all day.”

“I have time for both.” You tease, earning a sideways glance and eye roll from the redhead. 

When she was done touring the office, she perched herself at the edge of your desk. Your response was to move your office chair closer while simultaneously leaning backwards, stretching out to allow Melissa’s eyes to skim over you. 

“Enjoying the view?” You asked.

“I am.” Her arms folded over her chest as a mischievous smirk grew on her lips. Mel’s eyes flickered from your shoulders, over your chest, allowing her eyes to linger before drifting back to your face, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

You give a shrug, teasing her, “That happens when you don’t call before 8pm.” 

Your comment had more bite than you intended, but Melissa didn’t seem to take it too personally. She brushed her hair over her shoulder before placing both of her hands on the arms of your chair and looming over you, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Rather than meet her intense green hues, you admired her cleavage with no effort to conceal your desires. “What do you have in mind?” Melissa’s demeanor changed with a playful laugh. You could’ve sworn you felt her purring as her face drifted closer to yours. Her nose and lips brushed against yours before she scantily pulled away, “A little weekend getaway. You, me, and a cheap, little hotel right on the beach in Atlantic City.” 

You cocked your head with a shit eating grin across your face, “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Her response contained no hesitation or nervousness. Rather she seemed incredibly satisfied with herself, “I am.” 

“Then say it.” Your demeanor was entirely too confident for Melissa’s liking, and you could tell this was the case as her brows narrowed as she stared you down. Her stubborn nature had her fall silent, searching your face to see how serious you were. You confirmed your serious intentions as you returned her intimidating gaze, “Go on.”

The redhead glared for a few seconds longer before straightening her back and softening her features, “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Why, I thought you would never ask.” To reward Mel for her behavior, you rose from your chair, pressing a brief kiss to her lips that threatened to cause Melissa’s cheeks to flush red.

—

“What in the hell is this?” A voice and a banging on the window to your office caused Melissa to jump from your lap to prevent anyone from seeing how cozied up you had been with one another. 

With a wave of frustration now coursing through your veins, you rose from your chair and strode to the door, opening it to face a disgruntled customer. He pushed a piece of paper stained with the vaguely familiar markings of the autoshop printer into your face. You quickly pushed away his hand and failed to provide his aggression with kind customer service, “It looks like a receipt.”

He pointed at the receipt, raving about the additional charges tacked onto the original cost of fixing his vehicle, “What the hell are all of these extra charges? You said it was gonna cost $300 and now you’re charging me over $500!”

You only shrugged at his frustrations, leaning away from him as he threatened your bubble of personal space once again as you tried to explain the additional charges. You hadn’t noticed Melissa lingering in the doorway behind you, silently fuming at the way the customer was speaking to you, “We told you when you dropped it off that you gotta pick it up within 24 hours or else we charge ya’ for parking. You left the Buick here for over a week, man. We aren’t a public parking lot. We need the space for other customers.”

“Where’s your fuckin’ manager?”

“I am the fuckin’ manager.”

You returning his energy wasn’t something he took kindly. He waded up the bill and tossed it aside before pushing his finger into your chest, “If you think for a goddamn minute I will be paying this bill, you have another thing comin’. I don’t need some bitch robbing me of my hard earned money.” The second he touched you, Melissa rounded your side and came to stand between you and the man. Her hands were balled into fists and perched on her hips as she stared defiantly up at the man who stood two feet taller than her. You glanced down and noticed gripped in one of her hands was a baseball bat you kept tucked behind your desk, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave a tired sigh, waving a hand in Melissa’s face. Little did he know that his waving hand was akin to the red flag waving in the face of a raging bull, “Get lost, red. It’s none of your business.”

With one swift movement she lifted the bat, allowing it to slide in her hand so she gripped the barrell, shortening it enough that she could poke him in the chest with it. You watched her lean back and forth as she threatened him - a genetic trait of Schemmenti’s as they threatened people. “The second you decided to start with the name callin’ it became my problem. I suggest you pay up before your car ends up with more problems than what you came in with.”

He made the worst possible decision as he placed his hands on his knees, speaking to Melissa as if he were talking to a child. “Stay the hell out of this. This is between me and your girlfriend.”

Melissa stared him down for a fraction of a second before snapping. She allowed the bat to slide back down in her hand so she could grip the handle and lift the aluminum bat above her head, ready to strike. You were lucky you had your eyes glued to her rather than the unwelcome customer so you had the time to loop one arm around her waist while the other raised to grip the barrel of the bat. 

“No, no, no, no!” You scolded, tugging her back towards the office while some of the boys working in the shop intervened. 

Mel barely gave up a fight against you, rather she stared down her new mortal enemy with a vitriol you had yet to see on her face before. When she was finally in the office, you released her while tearing the bat from her grasp lest she have any ideas about slipping past you to exact her revenge.

Knowing she was now trapped in your office, she began pacing back and forth with a rage you could feel radiating off her. You leaned against the door, watching her traverse your office like a caged wildcat which only made you smile. With a lighthearted tone, you tried to calm her, “Easy, tiger.”

Melissa whipped around to face you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she was clearly unhappy with your decision to prevent her from teaching that guy a lesson. She stared up at you with a defiance that you found incredibly endearing, and what was even more endearing was the way she continued fighting for you, “He can’t just talk to you like that!”

“Don’t give it too much thought. I deal with guys like that all the time.” You calmly brush off the encounter, remembering countless situations wherein things escalated much further and you were called far worse. Leaving the bat by the door, you approach the seething woman with a serenity that cooled her boiling anger. 

The redhead refused to respond to you and her eyes studied the calendar on the wall to avoid meeting your own. She folded her arms over chest and you watched her demeanor shift from simmering anger to pouty eyes begging for your attention. 

Taking her face in your hands, you lift her face towards you and press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into a tight hug, “I promise you. It’s okay.”

--

You drop your phone down onto the bed when Melissa walks out only wearing an oversized sweatshirt. The bagginess of the clothing hid everything and you were ready to help her out of it as quickly as she put it on. You gestured for her to come to your side of the bed, “Just when I think you can’t get more gorgeous, you walk out looking like that.” 

Melissa crawled into bed with you, straddling your lap for a moment to give you hope before sliding off to land on her side of the bed, “I have work in the morning. I don’t need any of your funny business. ”

You ‘tsked’ her response and pulled away the covers so she wouldn’t be able to hide. You rapidly maneuvered so you would be on your knees before her so your hands could guide her thighs open. She was smirking as she put up no fight against your efforts. She even lifted her sweatshirt to reveal more of herself to you; that move alone told you she wasn’t truly opposed to your ‘funny business’.

Settling onto your stomach, you lean your cheek against her thigh, staring intently at her panties, “Funny business? There is nothing funny about this...”

“Mm… Prove it.” A manicured hand wove into your hair, drawing your face closer to her heat. Her back arched involuntarily and caused her hips to shift downwards closer to your mouth. 

“Happily.” You murmured, hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down her legs the best you could. They were at her knees when you lowered your face to her cunt once again. As a professional in pleasuring Melissa, you skillfully wound your arms around her thighs before using your fingers to spread her cunt open for your tongue to go to work. 

You felt Melissa’s thighs squeeze your head for a moment as she worked to remove her underwear without trying to impact your ability to give head. The feeling of her legs around her head drove you insane. You tried to let her know how much you craved her as your hands shifted back to her thighs so you could feel your fingers compress into her soft flesh. 

Melissa relaxed back into the bed, completely melting into your touch. Her hands rose above her head to grip the bed frame - a silent way of giving you complete control. 

She was already sleepy from your lovemaking from nearly an hour ago, so this time Mel was far less energetic and performative. It was mesmerizing watching her head softly turn back and forth while soft breathy moans escaped her mouth. This was exactly what made Melissa so addicting for you. 

You watched her crane her neck so she could press her face into her pillow to catch the fabric between her teeth. In response, you swirl your tongue around her clit before giving her clit a hard suck. She gave a strained and exhausted growl that faded into a quiet whine - her quietness all centered around preventing her roommate from hearing.

You attempted to move your mouth away to give her reprieve, but her hips lifted off the mattress to impede too much separation.

Part of you wondered how far you could push Melissa. To satiate your curiosity, you gently scraped your teeth against her clit, earning a hiss then a whiney moan. You were clearly pushing your luck with how much she could handle. When you continued with your teasing licks, your eyes flickered back up to her face to enjoy the view. Her chest was heaving and her bottom lip jutted out into a pathetic pout as her hips began grinding against your tongue as she sought out an orgasm. 

For a split second you considered confessing your love to Melissa like you did all those years ago, but you kept yourself from doing so. She needed to come to you. Instead you opted to pay her a compliment instead, “You’re so good for me, pretty girl…”

Your heart fluttered as you watched a smile spread across her face. She then attempted to silence a rumble deep in her throat and hide her simper, but it was fruitless as the compliments continued falling off your lips. You breathily mumbled about her hips and thighs, briefly pausing to stroke your tongue up and down her drippy cunt, and continued your mad ramblings about how beautiful you found her to be.

In your moments of desperation, your words had caused Melissa’s face to grow hot from embarrassment. It was easy accepting compliments when the moment lacked the vulnerability of sex and nudity, but when your face was buried between her legs the flattering remarks felt all too real. She tried to brush them aside, only to have them linger at the outskirts of her mind. 

As you refocused your attention on her clit with the addition of two fingers gently inching deeper into her pussy, Melissa was struggling to escape the thoughts of your feelings towards her. She despised how light it made her feel. She hated that she felt herself being drawn closer to orgasm from the adoration she felt from you. 

Her fierce independence was battling the all-consuming craving to feel desired.

While you were not privy to her inner turmoil, you only worked harder to bring her pleasure. Your fingers gently curled within her, stroking that special spot you discovered during your youth. A coil tightened within Melissa, her hand shooting down to grip your spare wrist to steady herself. 

You chose to lose yourself in giving head once again. Her breasts gently shook with each light shift of her body - a mesmerizing sight. You were lapping and kissing at her clit softly as you hoped to draw out this experience as much as possible. However, Melissa was unable to take anymore as an orgasm washed over her and her back swiftly lifted off the bed and quickly arched back into the mattress, pushing her hips to your mouth. 

You slowed down the movements of your tongue, but you didn’t stop entirely. You wanted to slowly bring her down from her peak (and selfishly you wanted you to continue enjoying the feeling of her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head). When her back finally relaxed against the mattress, you slipped your hand from her cunt to reluctantly help guide her thighs into a resting position. You gave her thighs a couple of gentle bites, encouraging to ease up on you, “Come on, pretty girl…”

Melissa whimpered as her legs shakily parted, nervous you would attempt to continue regardless of her exhaustion. You only nuzzled her thighs, slowly smothering them with kisses in a way that gave Melissa butterflies. 

She was quick to try and move herself out of such a vulnerable position. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m already way up past my bedtime.” Melissa gave your arm a pat, encouraging you to get up as she shifted her hips to the left as if she were attempting to move off the bed. 

You rolled off the redhead and sat up, taking that as her subtle hint for you to head home. After following Melissa to the bathroom and using the sink to wash your face and hands, you began gathering your clothes to make your exit. This only confused the redhead as she pulled back the comforter for both sides of the bed as she expected you to join her, “Whered’ya think your goin’?”

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you began removing your sweatpants that you just put on. You undressed and joined the redhead in bed, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

When you were settled on your back, Melissa was on her side facing away from you. She found a way to make physical contact with you by backing up in bed so her back was pressed to your side. She shifted in bed for a few moments as she tried to find a comfortable position, and after she did she mumbled sleepily, “Be warned. I wake up at 6.”

You started your sentence mid-yawn, “That’s a shocker.”

She had one final quip for you as sleep threatened to overtake her, “I don’t just wake up looking this beautiful.” 

With a chuckle, you gave her ass a pat, mumbling out your final few words before allowing yourself to enjoy some silence before you fell asleep, “I doubt that…”

--

You woke up the next morning with Melissa already off to work, but when you checked your phone you had a message from Mel waiting for you. 

Melissa: Couldn’t bear to wake you up. You should have told me you were that cute when you slept. I would’ve let you stay sooner.

Y/N: I don’t believe that for a second. 

Y/N: Don’t worry. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be out soon. 

You quickly sent the second message as you didn’t want to seem too over confident nor did you want to overstay your welcome. 

Melissa: No rush. There is lunch for you in the fridge. I marked the tupperware.

You grinned at your phone like a lovestruck idiot. Quickly you threw on your clothes and wandered down to the kitchen to see what Melissa had left for you in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf was undoubtedly a tupperware full of her insanely good spaghetti with a bright pink sticky note stuck to the top marked with your name and a little heart.

Y/N: Thank you! Will I see you later?

Melissa: Open house tonight. See you Saturday? 

Melissa: I’ll let you take me to dinner.

The thought of waiting two days to see Melissa next was brutal, but you would take what you got as rarely did she ever make plans with you in advance. 

Y/N: Let me? What an honor.

Melissa: Believe me. I know.

You were smiling at your phone through the rest of the day as Melissa texted you about little things happening at school. Sometimes the stories she told you about Abbott were hard to believe. 

Her attention made you feel lovesick as you were constantly checking your phone, smiling at the thought of her getting into shenanigans and doing her terrible impressions for her work friends. The thought of going on a weekend getaway with her was only sounding better and better.

Link to Chapter 7

Taglist: Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[pommedepersephone]

Buck up, Hamlet! or how Aziraphale and Crowley's blocking helps communicate the evolution of their relationship

Can we talk about the blocking?

Specifically, I have been rewatching S1E3, one of my favorites. I love how the development of the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley is shown through these little vignettes. There have been some great explorations of the costuming and dialogue, but what always strikes me is the BLOCKING. The way their placement and movements add such depth and tell the story of living as a queer person, having to communicate in coded language.

Through the episode, we get 4500 years of history - Eden, Mesopotamia, Golgatha, Rome and Wessex - to see Aziraphale and Crowley standing on their opposite sides. Aziraphale always on the right, Crowley always on the left. But after the Arrangement, their blocking changes drastically and becomes much more fluid and nuanced. Each scene after this is distinct but the scenes in at the Globe and the Bastille have the most development, and I find myself rewatching them A LOT. Here is what I see. 

All the World's a Stage

This is the first meeting we see that isn’t a chance encounter, though the two try to stage it as such. It takes place in a theatre - and they are acting, playing their roles as demon and angel. Even the humans are complicit in this performance, with Shakespeare stepping in to address the two "in your roles as the audience." Oh, delicious.

But once it's been firmly established for anyone watching that they AREN'T friends, they DON'T know each other (cough cough) the following moves are clearly choreographed and have been played out many times before. Crowley sashays to the right, opening the dance, and Aziraphale accepts the invitation to dance with: “What do you want?” 

“Why ever would you insinuate that I might possibly want something?” Crowley is just playing his role as cheeky demon offering up a temptation - but his position to the right of Aziraphale speaks to the fact that they are both very complicit in this performance.

“You are up to no good.”  “Obviously. And you are up to good, I take it? Lots of good deeds?” Just standard character establishment, here.

“No rest for the, well, good." Ah, this line, the inversion of the well known idiom. Because the line between good and evil (and between angel and demon) maybe aren't so distinct, and Aziraphale acknowledges this with his words. We are moving into negotiations now. "I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do, and a minor miracle to perform. Apparently, I have to ride a horse.”

“Ah hard on the buttocks, horses. Major design flaw, if you ask me. I’m meant to be headed to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle.” The way Crowley moves AROUND Aziraphale here, intimate but also careful, watching for his reactions.

“Doesn’t sound like hard work.” Said with a little sideways look, because Aziraphale can see where this is going. And he's open to suggestion temptation.

“That was why I thought we should… well, bit of a waste of effort. Both of us going all the way to Scotland.”

“You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer you are implying?” A little bit of pretense, because Aziraphale has to pretend to be tempted, right?

Crowley presses. “Which is?” Because he is willing to play the part of tempting demon, but only if it is clear this is a farce, that this is indeed mutually agreeable. He is making sure they are doing the same dance.

"That one of us goes to Edinburgh and does... both. The blessing and the tempting."

Yes, they are doing the same dance, and what is left is the formality of concluding the dance - a moment of Aziraphale expressing his concern for Crowley, the coin toss - they both know how it ends. It's a ritual, an act of give and take.

But if it were ONLY the Arrangement, a simple quid pro quo, it would have ended there. It doesn't. Instead, the two offer each other a more intimate exchange - "It'd take a miracle to get people to come and see Hamlet."

Aziraphale doesn't even have to ask with words, just a look, and Crowley happily agrees. That is the final part of the dance, a small acknowledgement that this isn't just about making their jobs easier.

A Free Man in Paris

Paris is something else. This is a HUGE step beyond making sure that audiences like a show your angel is particularly fond of. This is a stolen dangerous moment, an OUTRAGEOUS flirtation that takes place outside of time, conducted in clear view of others but beyond their understanding. Isn’t that how their entire relationship is now conducted, hidden in plain view and so clearly affectionate? 

And look, Aziraphale is BITCHY in this scene. Peak That Bitch. He's just purchased a bookshop, he's creating a very permanent place for himself here on earth - Aziraphale is feeling quite proud of himself. In fact, he's preening a bit that he has figured out how to exist, even in some small limited way, as himself within the confines of the system of Heaven. Buuuut he may have gone just a bit too far, and gotten himself in a spot of trouble. He has landed in a prison, threatened with "death" and stuck because he's already gotten a warning about being frivolous with his miracles. Oh jolly good that Crowley is here to save the day!

There is something raw being communicated here here, where both Aziraphale and Crowley are presenting themselves to the world in ways that are dangerous. Aziraphale's reaction tells us that Crowley's look is doing things to him, but also in a way that it is NOT socially appropriate. Aziraphale may have showed up in all the trappings of an English aristocrat, but here is Crowley as a French royal sympathizer. NEITHER of these are safe choices in the middle of a revolution. The costuming is so critical to fully appreciating this scene, so check out the amazing clothing overview with @cobragardens.

When Crowley arrives and stops time, he and Aziraphale find themselves situated facing one another, but angled so they aren’t facing straight on. Interestingly, from Crowley’s perspective, he is where he is supposed to be - the left of Aziraphale. But Aziraphale, from his perspective, is also to the left of Crowley. It was Aziraphale after all who initiated this situation, who put himself in danger by being too… Aziraphale. It’s dangerous to be yourself when you don’t fit into heteronormative social expectations, isn’t it? Still, the two keep up a very flirtatious banter as they discuss the situation, and Crowley maintains his very-intentionally-unbothered sitting position up until Aziraphale goes too far and thanks him for coming to his rescue.

While Crowley is also flirting with danger in the way he is dressed, he also didn't just pop over for a nibble dressed this way. And whatever he might have been up to was interrupted so he could rescue Aziraphale from the consequences of his own reckless authenticity. After removing the chains, Crowley pushes Aziraphale to reconsider his honest expression of himself in this exact place and time - for the sake of survival.

Aziraphale, willing to risk himself alone, rather quickly adopts a more acceptable appearance when it might impact Crowley. It is only after Aziraphale is safely disguised and returned to his proper place to the right of Crowley, ONLY then does Crowley restart time. They can go enjoy lunch now, with the proper precautions and masks in place.

For these two particular human-coded occult beings, this is also such an honest moment. They both showed up damn authentically - Aziraphale so fabulously ostentatious, focused on chasing down some pleasure (in this crepes) and Crowley wrapped in a clear protest against the current violence. Just as Aziraphale indicated with his "Oh good LORD" as he looked the demon up and down with obvious thirst, Crowley's request to Aziraphale to change his appearance and mask better is done in such a way that affirms that Crowley LIKES who Aziraphale is without the mask.

The scene is so playful on the surface, the body language and dialogue flirtatious. It's something so familiar to the queer experience, making light of the absolute danger that we must sometimes navigate just to exist. The more I watch it, the more obsessed I become.

A Spot of Bodysnatchin'

It is worth remembering that we didn't get this scene in S1.

I am going to go through it soon, because again they dance back and forth beautifully in this minisode, but suffice to say we all know... it didn't end well for Crowley.

No Walk in the Park

The moment in St. James Park is brief, and it wasn't until S2 and the meeting at Edinburgh that we got the full context for this meeting. But even without this, we can clearly see that things are weighing heavily on Crowley. The scene in the Bastille took place in a prison, with the threat of execution over their heads. The juxtaposition of this conversation taking place in a park - a place that is not only NOT inherently dangerous but looks lovely and welcoming - only highlights the change in Crowley's attitude. He still attempts to be playful, but he's afraid. Look at that paper, it's a bit crumpled, he's been carrying it around for a while.

They are firmly entrenched on their assigned sides for the entire conversation, both very stiff. It feels uncomfortable to watch. When Aziraphale refuses his request, and indicates whatever is between them is just "fraternizing" with the enemy, we get a glimpse of how fearful Crowley really is. In none of these flashbacks has Crowley ever spoken to Aziraphale with the anger we see here. When they part in anger, it feels wrong.

Take Me to Church

So there is a long break between meetings now. But then, ah, the church. The place Aziraphale realizes his feelings. (Look, if Michael says this is where Aziraphale realized he'd fallen in love, I am not here to argue.) What I love is that again we see Crowley and Aziraphale swapping sides. Crowley is here to save his wayward angel, AGAIN. Despite feeling the ill effects of walking on consecrated ground, Crowley is here to save his angel and defeat Nazis. It's definitely not remotely evil intentions.

It isn't like the Bastille, but some of the parallels exist - Aziraphale failing to grasp the risks of his actions. And the silliness of his little dance coupled with just how deadly serious this situation is harks back to their flirtations in the prison.

Crowley is to the right of Aziraphale from the time he arrives until the bomb drops. Then in the rubble, with the danger past, we see them on their assigned sides again. UNTIL Crowley hands Aziraphale the books he saved with a "little demonic miracle of my own." He then crosses Aziraphale, and we see the look of absolute adoration as the angel watches him walk away to the right.

Sweeeeeet baby Jesus, baby girl has it BAD.

Always Crashing in the Same Car

This extremely heartbreaking scene has been dissected, chewed over, breaking our little hearts with it's sharp pieces.

But it is purposeful that this scene took place in the Bentley. Being in the car is symbolic because Aziraphale is here making an offering to Crowley, in his space, something that he Aziraphale feels is WRONG which is highlighted by his placement to the left of Crowley. He is scared, acting against all his own desires, but he does it anyway because he cares for Crowley. It's simple, powerful placement. Need to hurt more? Yeah, thought so. Take a deeper look at the dialogue with @zionworkzs.

[hgfictionwriter]

Getaway

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's in her head about your friendship and if it can be something more. Can a vacation getaway change the trajectory of your connection?

A/N: Get ready for shy, sweet, awkward Jessie doing her best to not get in her own way and win over her girl. Someone requested fluff and while this isn't quite it - it's on its way lol. No warnings for this fic.

"Um, can I get you a refill?" Jessie asked as she spied the near empty glass in your hand. 

"Only if you're getting one," you responded with a nod to the cup Jessie was holding.  

Niamh and Zee had both retired for the night and it was now just Jessie and you around the firepit of the villa the four of you were renting. Jessie wasn't a night owl and she was actively fighting the weight of her heavy eyelids, but she wanted to stay up with you. And frankly, she was a bit of a lightweight when it came to drinking as well. She was already feeling a bit of a buzz and wasn't entirely confident about having another drink. You noted her hesitation and smiled.  

"Doesn't have to be a boozy drink. I could go for a late night tea instead." 

Jessie smiled gratefully. You knew her so well.  

"Sure, let's do that," Jessie said. 

When Jessie returned a while later with two steaming mugs of tea, she also had a bag of crackers tucked under her arm and handed them to you. 

"Oh my gosh," you said as she sat up to receive the items. "How did you know I wanted a snack?" You blew on the hot beverage before taking a tentative sip. "And you remembered how I take my tea. Thank you." 

"Of course," Jessie said, hiding a pleased smile. An easy quiet fell over the two of you as you sipped your drinks. Jessie had to make a concerted effort to focus her gaze on the fire and to not stare at this beautiful woman across from her. She should really just enjoy the silence and your company, but an urge had been nagging her and her resolve was fading. 

"So, how are you liking it here so far?" She asked.  

"It's beautiful. Obviously," you responded with a light chuckle. "I'm loving it. Thank you again - to all of you - for letting me tag along on your unofficial team trip." 

"Oh, no need to thank me or any of us. We're all super glad you're here," Jessie said. She did her best to push down the awkward or self-criticizing feeling that was starting to bubble up inside of her. 

It's just Y/N, she had to remind herself so she wouldn't get caught up in analyzing her own words and actions. 

When Jessie first met you through Niamh over a year ago, you hit it off. At the time, Jessie made a point of not giving it too much headspace. It was just one meeting after all and it could have been a fluke. But when you saw each other again at another event, it became evident to Jessie that there was actually something there. Your chemistry was natural, banter was easy, and your conversation led to some deeper things and you ended up talking late into the night. Jessie was reserved, even shy, so warming up to someone so quickly and feeling comfortable wasn't the norm.  

Just as Jessie was working up the nerve to ask you for your number - an extreme rarity - it came to light that you had a girlfriend. That brought everything to a crashing halt. 

Jessie had been furious with herself for misreading your connection and for almost making a fool out of herself. She was even more upset with herself for how disappointed she felt by this turn of events. It had only been a couple of conversations and she shouldn't be so affected. Regardless, she most definitely didn't want to get caught up in any drama. So when you parted ways that night she dismissed the notion that it could've ever been anything more. She was committed to pushing you from her mind and that was the end of it. 

However, your paths kept crossing and that chemistry didn't go away. In fact, every time you talked, Jessie found that you lingered longer and longer in her mind and that feeling in her chest grew warmer and brighter.  

In time, Jessie convinced herself that being friends wouldn't be so bad. And, truthfully, it was mostly good. There were, regretfully too many, moments where Jessie had to do everything in her power to not reach out to hold your hand or to not let it show when mention of your girlfriend sent a dagger through her insides, but Jessie's life was undeniably better with you in it than even the thought of one without.  

Knowing that you'd never be anything more made things simple enough, not easy, but the lines were undebatable. However, since you and your girlfriend broke up a couple of months ago, things were different and Jessie was having more and more difficulty navigating your dynamic. The chemistry was still clear as day for Jessie, but did you feel the same? And even on the off-chance that you did feel the same, were you ready for a new relationship? And now that you'd been friends for so long, Jessie had to weigh the cost of risking your friendship. The thought of losing you terrified her.

All of the drama she'd been trying to avoid seemed to be closing in on her despite her efforts. She should really just let it all go, but it was proving harder and harder to. 

"Did you and [y/ex] ever talk about visiting here?" Jessie asked clumsily. She had to resist the urge to sigh in annoyance at herself. She watched your reaction carefully; if you were put-off or perplexed by the inquiry, you didn't let on. 

"No," you answered nonchalantly and shrugged. "She wasn't really big on travel. So, it never really came up. I've always wanted to come here though, so this is perfect." 

"Oh yeah, me too," Jessie said quickly - too quickly. She fought off the wince that threatened to cross her face. She cleared her throat inaudibly and redirected. "Um, I haven't really checked in in a while. Uh, so, how are you? You know…since the break-up." 

It seemed that no matter how many times she’d rehearsed these conversations, they just never really came out the way she wanted them to. Maybe it was a good thing she had a bit of a buzz, because otherwise she'd probably be sinking into her chair and praying to disappear at how clunky she was approaching this. 

"You're sweet," you responded with a small smile. Again, if you were thrown off by any of this, you weren't letting it be known. "I'm doing well. Honestly." Jessie didn't fill the silence that formed and you went on, dropping eye-contact and swirling your tea distractedly. "It was the right decision." 

"That's good," Jessie affirmed with a nod. "I mean, if you're not in love, no point in dragging things on."  

"Exactly. It wouldn't have been fair to either of us. And truthfully, it was a long time coming," you said returning a nod. You let out a quick exhale and sat back in your chair, a faint smirk now forming on your face. "And what about you? Anyone on the horizon for you?" 

A deep blush immediately began to burn on Jessie's cheeks. She forced what she hoped was an easy laugh. "Nothing on the horizon." 

You shot her a discerning look. "No one? The entire time I’ve known you you’ve never been remotely interested in anyone. So still no one?” 

"What?" Jessie defended, her voice rising in pitch. Her cheeks were on fire as she frowned at you. "I'm too busy. I'm gone like every other week, and sometimes for weeks at a time. That's not exactly the best foundation for a relationship." 

Great. Just go ahead and tell her all the reasons why you'd make a crappy partner, Jessie thought disparagingly. 

To Jessie's surprise, you smiled. 

"That right there tells me you'd be a good partner. It's very thoughtful. I mean, from what I've seen, there are a lot of others who don't afford partners - if you can call them that sometimes - the same kind of care and consideration," you relayed. "That said, life is short. Even if your schedule is crazy, if she's the right one for you, you'll make it work. And if you're the right one for her, she won't mind that your schedule is crazy. It'll make the moments that you're together that much sweeter." 

If Jessie's blush was about to fade, that last part had the opposite effect on her. All she could do was offer a tight smile. 

"I suppose that's true." 

She cleared her throat, building herself up to shift the focus of the conversation back to you.  

“Uh, you mentioned your break up was a long time coming - what did that mean?” She tried to make it sound casual, but she feared the chances of that were quite low. She added quickly, “You obviously don’t need to tell me anything. You just never really said why you broke up and I just-” 

“It’s okay. Really.” You mercifully interjected. You settled further into your chair with a heavy sigh, your gaze drawn back to the drink in your hands. You took a few moments to formulate your response. “I think it just became apparent to me that my feelings for her weren’t what they should be. She deserved more. And I do, too.”  

“That’s very mature. And takes a lot of self-awareness,” Jessie offered.  

“Thanks,” you said simply with a faint smile and a shrug.  

Jessie waited a beat to see if you would elaborate more, but you didn’t. Jessie contemplated what to say next and although she didn’t fully trust where her instincts were taking her, she went with it nonetheless.  

“Um, I know it’s only been a couple of months, but is there anyone on the horizon for you? Like, are you looking to date again?” Once more, she did her damnedest to make it sound like idle curiosity. She watched you carefully while you considered your response.  

“Mm, I’m taking my time, I suppose,” you eventually replied. “But, with the right person, I’d be all for it.” 

Jessie nodded as she continued to map out how to navigate this discussion. She wanted to push, but fear around jeopardizing your friendship confined her in a lot of ways. She had to be careful.

“And I guess you know better now what you want versus what you don’t want,” she said. You nodded as you peered over your mug at Jessie.  

“Yes, that’s true. I do.” 

Jessie was about to ask what you were looking for when your phone buzzed and the screen lit up, distracting you both.  

Jessie felt an irrational, yet thankfully fleeting, wave of jealousy come over her as she imagined the text was from your ex, as unlikely as that would be. Regardless, she studied your expression as you read the text, noting the discerning frown on your normally gentle features.  

“Everything okay?” Jessie asked.  

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, your frown dissipating as you locked your phone. “My sister’s just making some questionable decisions. Nothing serious,” you assured with a chuckle, “but she felt compelled to tell me.” You drained your drink, setting it down on the table. “It's 1:30.” You announced as you held up your phone to show the time. No wonder Jessie was so tired. "What time did we want to head out tomorrow?" 

"About 9," Jessie replied, now suddenly struggling to stifle a yawn.   

"Okay, shit. Sorry - I kept you up. I know you normally go to bed a lot earlier than this," you apologized. Jessie was quick to dismiss the notion. 

"Not at all. Well, yeah, I go to bed earlier normally, but we're on vacation. I didn't even realize it was so late," she said, hesitating for a moment before going on. "And I always enjoy our conversations." 

"Me too." 

Jessie could've beamed. It wasn’t much, but it made her happy nonetheless. She smiled, but tried to tamper it.

“I guess we should try to get some sleep though, hey?” You proposed. Jessie hoped that she was right in hearing a hint of regret in your tone. Even though Jessie didn’t want the night to end, morning was going to come quickly.

She stood and began gathering up the glasses and other items.  

"Hey, I can take mine. Don't worry." You protested, but Jessie was already walking to the kitchen with all of the dishes in hand. "Gosh," you complained lightly as you followed her in, "you never let me take care of anything. I'm still not over you carrying my luggage in for me. And Niamh's never going to let me live that down. Or maybe even you, for that matter." 

Jessie was glad she was hunched over loading items into the dishwasher otherwise you would've caught a new blush forming across her cheeks.  

"You're an 'acts of service', aren't you?" You proposed as you leaned an elbow on the table to prop up your chin.  

"Huh?" Jessie asked as she closed the dishwasher door and straightened up. 

"Love language," you elaborated. Jessie started to stumble over her words when you interjected. "It can be for anything - not just romance. Friendships too. It's just how you show you care." 

"Oh, yeah I guess, then," Jessie conceded. "Um, what are you?" 

"'Words of affirmation', for the most part. 'Quality time' is pretty high too, though," she answered.  

"Oh, so we're not that compatible.” Jessie risked the joke before she could stop herself, ensuring to tack on a teasing smirk to alleviate as much weight as possible given she broached your compatibility. 

"Excuse me?" You protested with a laugh. "That's not necessarily true. I enjoy receiving acts of service. So there's compatibility there. Do you like receiving words of affirmation or do you like quality time, I guess that's the question." 

Jessie subconsciously started scratching the back of her head and averted her gaze.  

"Um, I don't particularly like compliments, but I guess it depends on context, I don't know," she trailed off. "And I'm an introvert and I need time alone, but, if I like someone I do like spending time with them." 

"Well, it's not just strictly compliments," you corrected, drawing Jessie's eyes back. "It's like," you paused briefly, seeming to contemplate something before going on, "if I say, "Jessie, even though I didn't need you to carry my luggage in, I appreciated you doing so. It made me feel welcome and cared for. You are one of the most thoughtful and sweet people I know - you are important to me and I feel lucky to have you in my life." 

Jessie's cheeks began to burn yet again. Her heart was racing and the eye contact you held quickly became too much. She tried to distract with a roll of her eyes and an amused laugh.  

"Right," she said.

Thoughts clamored in her head and no single one stood out as the right thing to say. She was aware of how too much space was starting to fill your conversation.  

"Well, I should let you get to sleep," you said softly, relieving Jessie of the task of finishing her thoughts. Jessie cursed inwardly.  

"Oh yeah, sure," she said, running a hand through her hair. "Um, well I'll walk you to your room." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She couldn't stand how awkward she was sometimes. 

"Okay." Despite the odd proposal, you accepted with a gentle smile.  

You chatted quietly as you walked upstairs, past Jessie's room and further down the hall. You should've said goodnight right away, but instead Jessie found herself drawing out your goodbye. It didn't seem like you were in a rush, so Jessie cast aside the doubt that was crawling up inside of her. 

When you finally said 'good night', Jessie wrestled with the act of hugging you or not. She debated it heavily and was outrageously close to initiating it, but when the moment came she ended up turning on her heel and giving a small wave instead. She had to resist the urge to slam her bedroom door when she got inside over how frustrated she was with herself. 

When she finally turned off the light and got under the covers to sleep, she was wide awake. The way sleep had been pulling at her prior was now fully replaced with reflections of the night and irritation with herself. She sighed and let her arms fall heavily at her sides as she stared blankly up at the ceiling. More thoughts swirled inside her head and she screwed her eyes shut before forcing herself to breathe and trying to relax.  

Despite her best efforts, she tossed and turned for a while before finally admitting defeat and pulling out her phone to pass the time. Maybe it was the lingering alcohol, maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it was after 2:30 when she pulled up her conversation with you and sent a text with a screenshot of the test she just did.  

"Confirmed. Acts of Service. And I actually do like Words of Affirmation." 

To her surprise, three dots appeared in the bottom left of your conversation. Jessie's breath caught in her throat and she remained motionless watching the dots fade in and out. 

"I knew it. So what I'm hearing is, we are compatible lol." 

Another breath caught in Jessie's throat as she read your reply. Her chest was burning and she was grateful for the fact that this was over text. She actually had the chance to think about what she wanted to say. 

"Definitely. Though I'm not surprised." 

"Tell me more." 

Jessie fidgeted as her mind churned with possibilities. This was a moment where things could change - a moment she told herself for more than a year that she didn't want or need. You were friends. Good friends. What if she misread things again - she had before. What if she ruined everything just because she couldn't control herself. 

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" 

She chickened out. 

"I couldn't sleep." 

"Apparently, neither could you." 

Jessie exhaled shakily.  

"True." 

"Well, it's silly that we're texting. Why don't you just come over." 

Jessie's brow furrowed in deep confusion as she read your text. She reread it just to be sure.  

"We have to be up early. I don’t want to keep you up." 

She was such a coward. A heavy feeling fell over her chest making it harder to breathe. She let the phone fall against her. It buzzed. 

"Okay. Well, if you change your mind, come on over. I'm not tired, so I won't be falling asleep soon anyway." 

Jessie locked her phone and set it down on the bedside table. She rubbed her temples and sighed deeply. 

The tight, heavy feeling in her chest kept growing and nagging at her despite how she was trying to breathe and decompress. Of course she shouldn't go to your room. She should just go to sleep. And of course your offer didn't mean anything. Why would it? You were friends. Always just friends.  

What was she doing?  

She wasn't sure how much time passed before she sat up in her bed. She didn't even really realize she was doing it until she was straight up and staring at the wall ahead of her. She swallowed heavily and her heart began to beat loudly in her chest as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stepped onto the hardwood. She took a steadying breath before she stood and crept over to the door, opening it a crack. She peered down the hall and saw the faintest glow coming from your room. Was your door open? 

Jessie swallowed her trepidation and began to softly pad down the hall, mindful to make as little noise as possible. As she neared your room, she confirmed that your door was ajar. Jessie's heartbeat was loud in her head now as she slowly approached the door. She knocked very faintly before pushing it open a few inches to peek inside. 

The tension that was holding Jessie's shoulders high towards her ears suddenly fell from her and she exhaled silently upon seeing you casually laying in bed under the glow of your phone and waving her in. 

"I told you I wasn't tired," you whispered as you sat up.  

"I couldn't sleep either," Jessie told you as she quietly closed the door behind her.  

A belated self-consciousness swept over Jessie at the realization that she was standing here in her pajamas, a t-shirt and shorts. She subconsciously tugged down the hem of her shorts.  

She sees you in a t-shirt and shorts every game. Calm down, she chided internally.  

Jessie quickly took in her surroundings, now suddenly unsure of what to do. Her eyes settled upon a chair at the desk in the corner of the room. She walked over there and began turning it so she could sit.  

"Jessie, don't be silly. Just sit over here," you said as you scooted over and patted the spot next to you on the bed. 

Jessie hesitated, but didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so she nodded and came over and daintily took a seat on the far edge of the bed. Her ears burned hot as she felt you shooting her a look, coupled with a soft laugh.  

"It's okay, Jessie. Relax. It's just me." Your voice was warm and reassuring and Jessie felt tension leaving her body once again. 

Conversation started up once more and you talked further into the night. Jessie had no idea what time it was anymore, but it didn't matter, she was happy where she was and didn't want it to end. Eventually, you laid down onto your side and propped the pillow up under your head with a yawn. Jessie was about to offer to leave when you gestured to the spot next to you. 

"Lay down. Make yourself at home," you said.  

Jessie didn't want to get too in her head about this. She did this kind of thing with teammates and it didn't mean a thing. Did it mean something now? Or was it just like with her teammates - nothing. She cast the thoughts from her head and laid down on the covers. When you told her she could get under the covers, she dismissed it and even though she was chilled, she insisted she wasn't cold.  

"So, tell me," you said when a small lull formed in your conversation later on.  

"Tell you what?" Jessie asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.  

"Tell me why you're not surprised that we're compatible," you responded lightly. 

"Oh," Jessie said, her mind suddenly sharpening at the twist in your conversation. Her previous nervousness returned, but this time a certain calm surrounded it. "Well, I mean, we've always gotten along really well. Friendship-wise.”

Old habits died hard.  

“Hm. That’s true,” you said quietly with a nod of acceptance. A couple of moments passed. “In terms of compatibility - love languages aside. What are you looking for? Not friendship-wise. You never say.” 

It was true. Jessie was very tight lipped about it, even with friends she wasn’t in love with. She endured relentless teasing about it, but she just didn’t like putting herself out there like that. However, right now, in the dark, lying next to you, things felt different.  

“I…,” she trailed off momentarily before finding her resolve and her voice. “I want someone who I can be myself with. Someone who will be my person. Who I can talk to about anything and everything. Who I can be vulnerable with – I have to be at my best all the time and for so many people, so to be able to let my guard down means a lot. But, just as easily, I want to be able to have silly and goofy moments together. Someone where doing something as simple as grocery shopping or cooking together can feel like an adventure. I don't know – just that one person who can be my anchor when I'm constantly on the move and trying to live up to others expectations, and I want to be that for them as well, even if I'm 1,000 miles away. No pressure for me – or her – to be anything other than who we are." 

“That’s beautiful. Truly. And you deserve that and more,” you said. Your gaze lingered for a moment before you went on. “Whoever you choose in the end is going to be a very lucky person.” 

“Thanks.” Jessie had to force herself not to protest. And I want it to be you, she thought. Instead, she said, “I mean, same with you.” 

Even in the dark, Jessie spied the small smile you gave her.  

“You’re too nice to me,” you said with a soft chuckle as you nestled into your pillow further. “Thank you, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Jessie asked. A shy smile formed on her face as she went on. “I mean, words of affirmation here, you deserve it. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. And, yeah, I feel really lucky to have you in my life. And, um, whoever you choose to be with next…you deserve to be spoiled by them. They should take care of you,” she began to stammer, “well, not like take care of, cause you’re totally independent, which is awesome, but you know, Acts of Service.” She winced and did her best to rally and finish strong. “What I mean is they should make you feel, every day, like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them. And that there’s no one else in this world for them.” 

“Wow. See? You’re amazing, Jessie. Honestly. Thank you. That means so much to me.” 

“Yeah, no worries,” Jessie quickly dismissed with a light laugh.  

Neither of you spoke for several moments and the tension became too much for Jessie, causing her to quickly change subjects.  

She wasn’t sure how much longer you talked, because the next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes and you were fast asleep next to her. A rush of panic went through her momentarily before she just allowed herself to relax. She debated getting up and leaving, but she indulged herself instead. It was too comfortable laying here with you and, truthfully, she may never get this opportunity again. She took in your sleeping form and before she knew it she was asleep again.  

The next time Jessie woke up, the veil of relaxation and drowsiness quickly dissipated as she looked down to see that you were cuddled into her arm. Jessie lay still as she processed the situation, but couldn’t ignore the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. After a few moments, she steeled herself and began to carefully disentangle herself from you. Though she didn’t want to leave, she didn’t want to take advantage.

She took one last glance at you. The first breaks of dawn started to filter into the room, casting you in warm light. A lump formed in Jessie’s throat, the feelings inside of her threatening to overflow. Jessie turned and retreated to her own room to try to catch a couple more hours of sleep. She was positive that if she managed to find sleep, she’d dream of nothing but you.

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Mrs Hollywood

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's not always easy to date a Hollywood star

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Also, this is a fluff little thing, enjoy

“Babe,” you whined as your girlfriend pulled away from the hug you had locked her in.

“I know, I know,” she soothed you with her gentle tone and a sweet smile as you finally mastered the courage to look at her. Scarlett had that look on her face - the one that meant she was just as unhappy as you were but she would put on a strong façade - and it made you sigh loudly. “I will be back in a month,” Scarlett reminded you.

“And then you will be home for a week and you will be gone again,” you complained although you knew you had no right to.

You kind of signed up for that when you started dating one of the best Hollywood actresses. Scarlett had a crazy agenda and you knew that from the start. When you two first started dating you would do FaceTime together while having a meal at different parts of the planet, but you made it work. She was in town every time she could catch a break from filming or doing her press tours, and she had offered to fly you to meet her more than once. It worked - very well, if the fact that you just celebrated your two years anniversary just a few weeks prior.

Now, however, you couldn’t help but miss her like crazy. She spent three months in Europe shooting her new Marvel movie, now she would be gone for another month to work on something else, and then she would have to travel again to attend premiers, awards and interviews all around the globe. You didn’t blame her for that, obviously, because her job was one of the things that she loved the most in the world, though you knew you had the right to whine about it every once in a while.

Like right now, when she was saying goodbye to you at the house you shared - when she was around - before taking a plane to whatever her next destination was.

“I promise I will make it up to you,” Scarlett whispered as her lips brushed against her cheek.

“Fine,” you sighed. “You better.”

“I promise,” Scarlett repeated, this time holding your hands between her palms and bringing you down for a kiss. “I love you, okay?”

“Not as much as I love you, Mrs Hollywood,” you joked, earning an eye roll from her which made you chuckle softly.

[...]

“You’re late,” you declared once you noticed your girlfriend walking toward you with large steps.

Scarlett's cheeks were a bit red and she was out of breath, which made you believe she had rushed there to meet you at the steps of the restaurant. “I know!” She said and stopped right in front of you, letting go of her dress, that she had been holding, and raising her hand to run through her hair to smooth it down. “There was no parking spot nearby, my driver had to park two blocks away,” she explained. “And my flight got delayed.”

Even if you were a bit annoyed, you still knew it wasn’t her fault that the flight was late. Could she have come back before to avoid all of this or told you she couldn’t have joined you? Yes. But Scarlett was there, she was making an effort, and you had missed her deeply, so she wasn’t going to let that get in the way. You sighed and pulled her in for a hug and a gentle peck on her lips so her lipstick wouldn’t smudge all around, then you held her hands to stop her from fussing about her clothes again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said with an earnest smile. “I missed you.”

All tension seemed to escape her body - her shoulders dropped, her hands stopped moving so much - and Scarlett nodded slowly. “I missed you too, my love. I hope I’m not that late.”

“Well, just an hour and a half,” you teased her as you both moved to the restaurant door. “I was kind of tired of waiting for you outside, so I sat down with my friends and I already ate. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Scarlett dismissed your words quickly.

You both walked inside the restaurant and she started doing an amazing job of ignoring all the looks that people threw at her. It wasn’t too crowded, the restaurant was small and not at all as fancy as she was used to, and people didn’t seem to be ashamed of ogling at her as she had just grown another head. Even if it did bother you that people would act as if having Scarlett Johansson inside a restaurant was insane, Scarlett was a pro at just keep walking and pretend nothing was going on around her.

“You didn’t have to go outside to wait for me,” she kept talking, letting you lead her to a table in the back where your old friends from college were sitting.

Those dinners with your friends were a common occurrence and you would all bring your partners since everyone got along great, but Scarlett couldn’t usually be a part of it. She was so glad that she could make it this time, though, even if she was late for it. “Of course I had to,” you argued, throwing a smile over your shoulder at her. “I missed you and I didn’t want to wait another minute to see you again.”

Scarlett smiled and tugged at your hand gently to make you stop walking. You did just that and got pulled against her body, instantly closing your eyes when you felt her hand cupping your cheek to pull in for a kiss. That kiss alone was enough to make you forget about the fifteen minutes you spent standing outside waiting for her after receiving a text saying she was on the way. Honestly, there were very little things that a kiss from Scarlett couldn’t make you forget.

“Come on, Mrs Hollywood,” you said once you pulled away, smiling gladly at her. “Stop making people wait for you.”

[...]

“Excuse me, are you Scarlett Johansson?”

And, just like that, you knew you had lost your girlfriend. As soon as someone recognized her, it was over. You two were standing in line at a coffee shop waiting to place your order after having a walk around the park, but now your girlfriend was surrounded by people trying to snap a picture with her or trying to get her to sign something for them. Scarlett, as usual, wasn’t rude and made sure to talk with everyone, although you knew she wasn’t that comfortable taking pictures and talking to people when she was wearing sweatpants and when she was all sweaty and tired.

Her fans tended to ignore you, which was fine by you. Every once in a while, a parent that had no idea why their kids were freaking out over her would step to the side and chat with you, but you were usually left alone to figure out what to do until your girlfriend was able to untangle herself from the circle that would certainly form around her. That day, though, you had nothing else to do but keep walking down the line while scrolling down your phone. You answered some texts, looked over social media to make sure no one had announced to the world where Scarlett was - since it could be very unsafe - , and ordered both of your coffees and some donuts to go. You had talked about sitting at a table inside to enjoy breakfast, but you knew it wouldn’t happen now.

Once the nice girl behind the counter gave you the order, you turned around to see if your girlfriend was already freed. There were still a couple of fans around her and she was chatting with a little girl that seemed to be telling her that she dressed up as Black Widow for Halloween. You knew it would take a few more minutes for her to talk with everyone, so you leaned against the concrete column at the corner and kept looking at your phone to make sure everything was fine.

You must have gotten distracted because you only noticed that Scarlett was done when she touched your arm to get your attention. Your eyes snapped at her, quickly noticing the sad and apologetic smile on her lips. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t mention it,” you said with a smile of your own, pocketing your phone and moving to take her hand into yours so you could start walking home. “I’m starting to get used to it.”

“Really?” Scarlett asked and you were happy to see that her smile became lighter.

“Yeah. Maybe I was the right choice to date Mrs Hollywood,” you joked and chuckled when she rolled her eyes at you. You leaned in to peck her cheek, feeling your heart twice its size inside your chest when she placed a hand just above your breast.

“I have to agree with that,” she said. “I think I got the best girlfriend from the batch.”

“Yes, they don’t make more like me. I was the last one.”

“I’m lucky to have found you before anyone else, then,” Scarlett affirmed and, this time, there was a little blush in your cheeks. She laughed when she noticed it and started to walk a bit faster down the street. “Come on, before our coffee goes cold.”

[...]

“What’s this?” You asked when you felt soft hands coming from behind you to close your eyes. You stopped typing since you couldn’t see anymore, but didn’t push your chair back since you knew your girlfriend was standing behind it.

“I have a surprise for you,” Scarlett explained, sending a shiver down your body when you felt her hot breath hitting the side of your neck.

“Oh,” you sang happily. “I love surprises. Where is it?”

Scarlett moved her hands so there was only one in front of your eyes. You heard movements, something that sounded like a paper sliding on your keyboard, and, before you could ask again, the hand was gone from your face and you were able to see again. You noticed it very fast - the piece of paper on your desk - but it took you a few seconds to understand what it meant. You almost felt sadness taking over you thinking that your girlfriend would go away again before you noticed it was two place tickets and not just one.

“What?” You asked as you picked it up. You could see words, dates and letters, but you couldn’t make sense of any of that in that moment.

“Well,” Scarlett started to explain, walking around you and gently turning your chair to the side so she could sit on your lap. She threw her arms around your neck and your hands instinctively found her waist and thigh. “Since I have a break from work, I thought we might enjoy this time to travel together somewhere. Just you and me, and maybe some margaritas,” she added in the end with a grin.

You looked from her to the tickets you left on top of your keyboard, then back at her with your eyes bulging in surprise when you registered what she said. “Wait, what? You have a break?!”

Scarlett nodded, barely able to hide her gigantic smile now. “I do. I know I haven’t been the most available girlfriend ever, and I’m sorry about that. I managed to clean my schedule for a few months. I mean, I still have some interviews and other things, but I can do them from here so I won’t have to travel. So, what do you say? Do we have plans or not?”

“Babe, I would go to the end of the Earth with you,” you declared, incapable of hiding how happy you were feeling at that moment. Scarlett smiled brightly and your lips met in a loving kiss. “Turns out, it was totally worth it standing in line for Mrs Hollywood,” you said between kisses, but Scarlett barely paused to laugh before kissing you again.

And you were fine with it.

[iveseenstrangerthings]

more than friends - a steve harrington imagine

summary: a real fluffy imagine after writing angst for the past few, best friends turns to lovers. Reader is teased about their close relationship with Steve by a jocky asshole, so Steve decides to do something about his feelings. both are obviously pining for each other but just don’t know how to do something about it!!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: really cringe asshole male talk about female character (inappropriate sexual remarks) & swearing.

thanks @urfriendlywriter for the friends to lovers confession prompt!!! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alrighty class, notes for the biological study are on the blackboard, you have the full hour to complete this. I expect everyone to have the practical experiment done, and their write up started by the bell. Am I clear with that?” Mrs Peters stands with her hands on top of her blooming belly, slightly leaning against the desk with her hip. 

The class grumble a response and Mrs Peters smiles, nodding. “I’ll float until my ankles hurt,” She starts, hinting to her swollen pregnancy ankles and gets a murmur of laughter in response, “Off you go!” 

The equipment is already lain out for you and your lab partner, Brad. He stands awfully close to you as you sort through the different brightly coloured flowers scattering your table. You have a feeling you’ll end up doing all the work, with Brad copying everything down in the last ten minutes. 

“Jheez.” Brad whistles under his breath as the class volume raises to the sound of students discussing their impending flower dissections. “Wonder who the lucky bastard is that gets a ride on her.” You turn to face him, your insides screaming with utter disgust, he motions his head to Mrs Peters and slides his eyebrows up and down. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say to the white peony that you’ve set out for your first dissection. Brad hears, and just laughs to you. He takes that as a joke, as a compliment, and it disgusts you even more. “Can you start to take the petals off those,” your eyes flit to the five other flowers laid out in a neat, colourful row, “and make notes on their type of pollination?” A tinge of annoyance already lacing your voice.

“Their type’ah what now?” He sits picking the petals off roughly, not following any of Mrs Peters prior instructions, and that fills you with rage. As someone who excels in school and wants to do well, your lab partner pairing feels like someone, somewhere, wants to torture you. You realise that it’s going to be easier, and less painful, if you just do it. Just crack on with the lab practical and let Brad sit there and sniff the pretty petals. “Can you get high on this stuff?” He says, his nose dotted with a tiny bit of pollen from where he dug it into the centre of the flower.

You widen your eyes and nod enthusiastically, “High as a kite.” You confirm, sarcastically, and his eyes glow back at you. Jesus...

Time passes and you’re in your element, investigating stigmas and anthers up close under the microscope, adding to your quick diagrams of each part with brief, but helpful, notes. Ones that Brad will no doubt copy from in due course. He’s sitting, like an impatient child, folding and tearing the petals he picked off earlier. The only time he’s made an effort so far is when Mrs Peters made her rounds and he came to stand by you and ‘make notes’ on your observations, only to sit back down again and scribble in the margin of his notebook when she slunk back away.

“Harrington shown you a good time yet, huh?” Brad’s voice breaks the silence between the two of you and your cheeks flush a deep red as you squint through the lens of the microscope. A thick glob of saliva forms under your tongue which you swiftly swallow back. “Come on, we’re in biology... can we not discuss things like that?” 

You lift your head from the lens and look at him. His face is expectant, expectant of your response, hoping for a bite back, and he calmly crosses his arms over his chest. Your cheeks are still firing up, your vision goes slightly blurry for a short while as white-hot anger burns up inside you. After glaring at him for some time, you return to your position at the microscope.

Before you could realise, he’s bumping your arm with his and leaning down to speak to you, not even the beautifully intricate flower beneath you is giving you any sanity. “If he’s too much of a pussy to do it, let me show you what a good time is really like.” He’s so close you can feel his breath warm your ear and send shivers down your spine, feeling like it’s hitting every vertebrate on the way down. 

“Steve and I are just friends.” The more uninterested you seem, the more likely he is to give up on his pursuit and just shut the fuck up. Or so you’re hoping. 

He scoffs, “Pfft.” His tongue creeps from his mouth and licks his bottom lip, “Friends with benefits? C’mon. I ain’t stupid.” He goes quiet then you feel a soft tickle forming down your spine, Brad’s finger. Then, his breath back in your ear, “Bet he doesn’t know your sweet spots.” 

You shoot back from Brad, holding your hands up, like you’ve been scolded with a hot iron, “Okay. That’s it.” You charge from your station down to the front where Mrs Peters sits, grading papers. “Mrs Peters.” You say, quietly now that you’re down here, not wanting anyone to hear your conversation. In your hands, your fingers tremble slightly with the adrenaline of the conversation you just had. “I would like to request a change of lab partner.” Your voice comes out strong and confident but your face paints a different picture. “Please.”

Mrs Peters looks behind you, at your now half empty desk, and to Brad who sits and moves stems and petals around the table into a phallic shape. He grabs the attention of the pair in front, who seem displeased at the childish distraction. She raises her brows in his direction, when he meets her glare, his cheeks flush a light pink, and he rearranges the flowers into the muddle they were before. 

“Say no more, sweet pea.” She says with an exasperated sigh, shuffling papers to pull out her seating plan. You look over as she pulls a pencil from her pot and pats her lip with the eraser. “Eleanor’s in need of a partner.” She says, tracing over the spare seat on her plan, “That sound good?” Mrs Peter’s kind eyes meet your own and she offers you a sincere smile. 

“That would be great.” Your heart leaps with relief. 

“Finish up there for today, you can move on Monday. He can stay with me.” As you make your way back to your desk, Mrs Peters calls out from hers. “Brad Norton.” The class falls silent, her usual sing-song voice has turned cold, stern. “I don’t recall asking you to make penises with your pretty little flowers. You can stay and do your lab work, tho-rough-ly,” she sounds out each syllable in the word, the veins in her neck protruding with distaste at her student, “with me in detention.” 

The classroom remains quiet as you find your seat and complete your notes. “Bitch.” Is muttered venomously from next to you and you’re unsure if it’s directed at you or Mrs Peters, but you’re past caring. 

                                                          ✦ ✦ ✦

On Friday nights, you and Steve like to walk from school to the diner which flickers welcomingly in the dark winter light as you approach. As usual, you take to your table which is located in the corner of the diner. It is cosy. You love coming here, especially with Steve. It’s a time that you can spend together, just the two of you, have a burger, have a milkshake, and just catch up on the week. You adore your Friday nights with Steve. 

Now, you’re leaning against the comfy backing of the squishy diner chair, the fabric crinkling awkwardly as you get yourself comfortable. You’ve both cleared your plates, smears of ketchup and dustings of salt lie in remnant of what was two full plates of burgers and fries. Gluttonously, as your stomach feels heavy with the greasy food that you adore, you continue to gulp your milkshake. 

“I heard Brad Norton got a detention today in bio.” Steve finishes dragging his last fry through a dreg of ketchup before placing it into his mouth, laughing at the new conversation topic. You simply roll your eyes and let the milkshake freeze your back teeth before swallowing. 

“He’s an asshole.” You retort, swirling your straw around in the thick, creamy drink. Your eyes stay fixed on the pink substance in your glass, watching the small particles of ice slowly melt the more you stir. “I’ve switched partners, finally. I asked Mrs Peters to move.” 

“Really?” 

You nod, your brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah. I don’t fancy sitting and getting creepy back strokes from him for the rest of the year.” 

Steve sits back against the seat, “He did what?” A surge of jealousy, and anger flits through him and you can see it flash across his eyes, a change so subtle you feel proud you noticed. He knows that would’ve made you uncomfortable and he knows where Brad usually goes on a Friday night, he runs over the possibility of going there and beating the shit out of him, but quickly decides that would be a terrible idea. “Is that what he got his detention for? Being a creep?” 

You laugh slightly, “Close.” You take another gulp of milkshake. “He was making dicks out of the flowers.” You realise you’re talking to your milkshake and not to Steve, he’s noticed too and realises there’s more to this story than you’re letting on. He knows you too well. 

“You sure that’s all he did?” He knows not to push things with you, but the feeling is bubbling up inside of him. 

You toy with the idea for a moment. Tell Steve, let Steve get angry and potentially make your favourite night of the week awkward? Or, don’t tell Steve, enjoy each other’s company and go from there? 

You’ve both been close to sharing your feelings with each other on multiple occasions, sat in this very booth. The diner must have an aura that allows you to become content with your feelings with one another, almost becoming more than friends. The diner is where you’ve shared feelings, ranted about shitty weeks, shitty dates; cried into milkshakes over the clear downfall of Hawkins. But it’s also where you’ve brushed hands as you reach for napkins, letting your fingertips linger a little longer than is necessary. It’s where you’ve held eye contact as you talk about things that interest you, the other listening with intent adoration. His eyes glisten as he listens to you discuss another biological theory that you love talking about with him, his lips curling as he listens intently and marvels at your passion and drive for science. You return the active listening as he discusses the trips to the Upside Down, watch little pieces of him break apart as he cracks open his memories of things he tries so hard to supress, but keep creeping back into his consciousness. 

So, with all that in mind, you decide to tell him. “He quizzed me on whether you show me a good time.” You blurt out, placing your milkshake down and folding your arms onto the table. “said he would show me a good time, said he knew my sweet spots. Basically, he spent the lesson trying to get into my pants.” 

His face is a picture of disgust, his eyebrows furrowing so deep you think they’ll knit together. “I promise you; he is one of a kind.” He holds his hands up in defence, “We are not all sex crazed lunatics who like making people feel uncomfortable.” His features soften and he looks over to you, taking in your features as he likes to here. They look softer in the glow of the luminous light that hangs above their window, the streetlights casting a yellow tinge into the corner where you sit tucked away. “I’m sorry he made you feel like that.” His voice is sincere.

You shake it off with a whip of a hand, “Shall we get out of here?” 

He nods, leaving the money on the table. “Come back to mine? We can watch a movie.” 

As you stand to straighten yourself up, you smile back at him warmly, nodding gently at his offer. 

                                                         ✦ ✦ ✦

Warm waves of air circulate out of the heater placed by your feet as you sit in Steve’s basement on the couch, watching a new film Steve rented out. You haven’t really been paying attention, you’ve been more interested in gradually moving your limbs inch by inch closer to Steve’s, your breath hitching as you feel him doing the same. Soon enough, you’re sat with your arms pressed against one another and your leg is resting comfortably against his. 

“Can’t stop thinking about what that asshole said to you.” His voice sounds weird after not talking for so long, the only sound being the grumbling heater and the soundtrack of the film playing out in front of you.

You rub his arm gently, sighing, “Stop thinking about it Steve, he’s not worth it.” 

“No, I know.” He’s quiet for a while again, the flickers of vibrant colours on the screen lighting up his features and your eyes travel around them all. He feels your eyes on him and leans to pause the TV, the sudden cut of sound making the room feel too quiet. Your breathing slows, waiting for him to start the conversation again. Sheepishly, you slowly pull your hand from his arm, suddenly feeling awkward having left it there for so long. He turns his body so he’s facing you and you scoot back a touch, propping your arm up on the back of the couch and leaning your head against your palm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You probe delicately, you can tell he has something whirlpooling in his mind. 

He shakes his head, smiling coyly. “Just thinking.” 

“About...” Your hands tumble over one another, hinting for him to go on. 

“You.” His bluntness makes your stomach squeeze tight, as if you’ve just dropped from one of those free-fall rides at the amusement park. His face remains unchanged, his eyes studying yours. “Thinking about you.” 

Slowly, you take a deep breath in. Unaware you were holding it in the first place. “Why me?” Annoyingly, your voice comes out as quiet as the hum of the heater, almost inaudible to someone who wasn’t trained in on the conversation. Suddenly the room feels warm, and you realise this could be the time to have the conversation you’ve been longing to have.

“’Cause I think about you all the time.”

You’d hoped all this time that he does just that.

And he does, he thinks of you when you aren’t there, when he’s lonely, when he feels sad, when he lies awake at night wishing he could turn over and feel the warmth of your skin against this. Wishing he could spend the night with you in a blur of heavy breathing, lustful kisses and soft moans. Wishing he could tell you how much you mean to him afterwards, holding you close whilst you both catch your breath and settle into the sheets in a dream-like state. He’s realising now how close he is to having all of this. To having you. If you want him, that is. 

“I know you feel what I feel.” His voice is low and his hand travels to rest just in between the two of you, like he wanted to commit to holding you but got scared half-way and changed his mind. 

A speckle of heat rests on your cheeks. “What is it that you feel?” Again, your voice is quiet, and you feel the pulse thick and fast, the heat rising up your neck from your chest. 

He clears his throat. “I know we both enjoy the time we spend together, as friends. But I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Silence settles over the pair of you, but you know that he’s not done yet, so you wait patiently for him to continue. “You make me feel so comfortable and you always know how to cheer me up, when to give me space, when to distract me from whatever’s going on...”

Hairs on the back of your neck prickle as the tingling sensation of adrenaline courses through your body. He continues, “I hate the fact that even assholes like Brad know there is something between us.” He sighs softly but carries on, “The fact that we haven’t even done as much as discussed how we feel, yet he’s happy to make degrading sexual comments to you about us.” 

You nod along in agreement. “I know.” Suddenly, your whole body feels drawn to him and you slide back along the couch, shuffling down into his side and placing your head in the crook of his neck, resting your arm over his stomach. This feels right, you think to yourself happily. “I love spending time with you, too. I have loved growing close to you these past few months and I-”

He lets his arm fall around your shoulders and he cuts you off, “Wait.” He insists as you feel his other hand come to rest gently against your neck, his thumb resting lightly against your jaw. “Look at me when you say it.” With his hand still resting on your neck, he gradually guides your face up so that it’s inches away from his own. His eyes travelling lazily over your features he’s grown to know so well before locking in with your own. 

Inside your chest, your heart is hammering wildly. Never have you been this close. Never this intimate. “I want to be with you, Steve.” You quietly admit, although it’s not much of a shocker. A smile forms on his lips, which have now moved ever so close to your own. Impatient and running on adrenaline, you close the gap between the pair of you and bring your lips together. His hand stays firmly on your neck, his fingertips gradually gripping the hair at the nape of your neck as your fist grasps his t-shirt as the kiss intensifies. 

The months of longing are finally coming to a head here and now as you are both desperate for each other. Not just in a sexual longing, but an emotional and physical intimacy longing, too. You can feel yourself getting lulled further into the kiss as his tongue searches for your own. 

After a few moments have passed, you both pull away gently, chests slightly heaving as you both work to catch some of your breath back. You rest your forehead against his and brush your nose past his, moving back to give him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “What do you say then?” You can see the happiness radiating across his face, the creases by his eyes and the soft pink glow gives it all away. His thumb traces across your cheek, “You wanna give us a shot?” He says.

Nodding, you reflect the same happiness glow that Steven is portraying. “I wanna give us the best shot.” 

Satisfied, he takes his hand back from your face and you feel how hot your cheek has been under his touch. He holds you close to him as he reaches back down to play the movie. A couple minutes later, he clears his throat. “And, if ‘Brad’” He uses air-quotes around his name, “Or any of his asshole friends wanna make any comments to you again, I’ll drop those motherfuckers.” He point blank says as his eyes follow along with the scene playing out in the movie before you.

The sudden threat from Steve brings a laugh out from you and it fills the room. Your shoulders shake as your laugh intensifies; he gestures his hands towards the TV. “Hey, do you mind keeping it down? Trying to watch a movie here.” He tuts and shakes his head playfully before resting it on top of your own, tracing his fingertips over your arm so that tiny goosebumps raise on your skin. A couple of minutes later, you find your breathing rising and falling at the same time as Steve’s, your eyes fall softly closed as you’re lulled into a light sleep, cocooned under the blankets and Steve’s arms. 

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight, Ch 3: The Tempest

summary: nathan makes his intentions clear and as always…is a bit of an asshole while doing it.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nerves, SIBLINGSSSS, mentions of care taking/sick relative, first date?? (after the fact), Nathan being A MEGA SIMPPPPPP

wc: 3,446

an: we get to meet reader’s sisters in this, both of which i love very very much! you also get a bit of reader’s background. and of course, nathan’s attempt at asking someone out. hope y’all enjoy and always thanks for reading! &lt;3

in plain sight masterlist | part 4 | phart 5

Sleep last night was difficult…and interesting. It took you a while to fall asleep, your nerves feeling a little frazzled once you’d gotten in the car and started to think about how you were going to have dinner with Nathan. You’ve spent plenty of time alone with him, but within the boss-employee dynamic. This dinner he’s asked you to could still be that— but you wouldn’t have your usual protections. No pressing questions, no tasks, no screens to hide behind. You and him. And food. When’s the last time you shared a meal with someone other than your sisters?

Once you’d finally succumbed to sleep, your dreams were of him. It felt like nothing and everything all at once. Nathan was there. You’ve never dreamt of him before. You were in Nathan’s house— except it was clear that neither of you were working. You watched a movie together cuddling on the couch, cooked a meal, and took a walk through the forest. While the thought of that would never appeal to you in real life when you wake, there’s a peaceful feeling lingering. It’s a little unsettling.

You hop out of bed before you can allow yourself to start assigning meaning to the dream. It was simply that— a dream. A product of your nerves, and spending nearly every waking moment dedicated to learning, organizing and managing all the aspects of Nathan’s life.

You get caught up in your ungodly long morning routine. Breakfast and tea with your mom as you read from her favorite poetry book, picking your sisters’ lunches, showering. Pressing your sisters’ uniforms. Making sure your mother has everything she needs before the time gap it takes for the nurse to arrive. Writing out a to do list for when you get home and setting out your comfortable clothing. Once everything’s set you change out of your robe and into your work clothes. You’re spending too much time in front of the mirror, fidgeting and analyzing yourself. There’s no need to look perfect, it’s just Nathan. Mr. Bateman, you should call him even in your head for separation.

“You look extra pretty today,” Your youngest sister, Emma, mumbles sleepily from her place in your bed.

You smooth out your skirt for the millionth time, looking over your shoulder at her, “Yeah, you think so Em?”

She yawns, raising a fist to rub at her eye. “You did your hair all nice and you’re wearing a skirt.”

“I wear skirts all the time,” You reason with her (and maybe a little with yourself).

“Not the pretty one.”

You cross the room, leaning in to tickle her, “Hey— are you saying all my other skirts are ugly?”

Emma bursts into a fit of giggles, doing her best to twist away from you. “Stop it,” She wheezes.

“Take it back and I’ll stop,” You reason with her, unable to stop your own laughter.

“I’m sorry, I take it back,” She whines, thrashing playfully beneath you.

“You’re safe for now, little one. Do you want me to make you some oatmeal before I go?”

“Can you eat it with me?” Emma asks, hopeful.

“No, honey, I’ve got to go. But, I’ll be home early tonight. We can watch a movie, how does that sound.”

Emma’s quiet for a few moments, obviously disappointed but then she nods, and cracks a sad smile. You lean in to kiss her forehead, hugging her close.

“Go brush your teeth and I’ll make your breakfast.”

“Do you think sister wants to eat with me?”

It takes effort for you not to cringe. Of course Emma wants to spend time with her other sister, but it seems like Phil is in her fuck any and everyone phase. You’ll try to get through to her though, if not for her own sake, then for Emma’s. A 7 year old shouldn't be spending so much time alone, not when some of her family is right here.

“I’ll ask her. If not, you can go sit with momma, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, little, up up. To the bathroom you go.”

You both stand, and you take her hand, dropping her off at the bathroom on your way to Phil’s room. To your surprise, the girl is already on up and on her phone when you crack the door.

She frowns, letting out a little sigh. “What?”

“Emma wants you to have breakfast with her.”

Phil rolls her eyes, not bothering to look over at you, “I’m not hungry.”

“Phillipa, you should eat. And you should always be excited to spend time with your sister.”

“She’s whiny.”

You cross the room, coming to sit beside her on the bed, “So are you.”

“Yeah and I have reason to be,” She murmurs defiantly.

“And she doesn’t?”

She grows quiet then, her thumb that had been continuously scrolling stopping in its tracks.

“Even if you don’t eat, could you just sit with her?” You ask, knowing that her shell has cracked a little.

“Fine, whatever,” She breathes.

“I’m making her a yogurt bowl. Do you want one?”

“No,” She says quickly, trying to feign uninterest. “Unless we have chocolate chips.”

“We have chocolate chips. And marshmallow fluff.”

“Then I guess I’ll have one.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave some money so you can get one of those fancy coffees from the place near your school. Will you pick a movie for us to watch today?”

“You’re coming home?”

“I should be here by 6…7 at the latest.”

“Oh. Okay,” She says, feigning disinterest.

“That’s all I get? An oh okay? Maybe I should tell Mr. Bateman I can work late.”

“No! You’re never home, c’mon don’t do that.”

“I’m excited to hang out with you too,” You say teasingly, leaning over to rest your head on her shoulder. Surprisingly, she lets you stay there.

“Can I make brownies?”

“As long as you let Emma help.”

“Of course I’ll let her help.”

“You have to be patient with her,” You remind her gently.

“I know, I know. Like you were with me,” She whispers thoughtfully. Sometimes you don’t think you give her enough credit.

“I love you Phillipa. You’re her big sister you know? I’m gone so much trying to make everything work here. She’s looking up to you. She thinks you’re the coolest person in the world.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Can I make her yogurt bowl and you make mine?”

“Sure, sweet girl. Let’s go.”

—

Nathan has never described himself as antsy. Impatient maybe, against delayed gratification sure. Antsy brings a connotation he’s not used to— nerves, a power struggle he’s on the losing side of, and lack of confidence. And while all of that feels true right now he still doesn’t want to admit it. He’s sitting at his desk, waiting for you to get in. His brow is sweaty because he’s been pacing back and forth, changing his mind about where he should be.

Eager to see you, he’d started in your office which is based in one of his many labs. It only took 10 minutes of him pacing in there to think that he was coming on too strong. It led him to the living room, but after sitting for a few minutes lounging at 6:30 in the morning when you were clocking in felt like it would be a slap in the face. He tried the patio, the kitchen, and eventually ended up back in his office.

He’d felt a little good about himself, the fact that he was thinking about this in a way that doesn’t just involve him and his desires. It was one of the reasons he’d realized what was happening to him. He’s doing his best at balancing his protective shell and showing you what he could be. What the two of you could be together.

Nathan loses his breath when you first come up on the camera, walking into your office. He’s always thought you were beautiful but today it seems like you tried to be. That could be his wishful thinking. Either way, he can’t take his eyes off you. You’re wearing a skirt he’s never seen before. A little shorter, a little pleated. It has his mind wandering off to places it shouldn’t, but it’s not like it hasn’t before. He can’t wait to get in the shower long after you left, and imagine what it would feel like to slip you out of it.

He stares…and stares…and stares until he realizes that an hour and half has gone by and he’s done nothing but give himself blue balls while watching you type away on your computer. Fuck, he’s completely at your mercy.

He pings you. Maybe that’ll make it worse, having you right in front of him like this. But, he needs to see you to scratch whatever itch this is in him today. There’s work too, a few things he needs to give to you to file away or mail out.

“Good morning, Mr. Bateman.”

He usually likes it when you call him that— especially when he’s imagining you say it while he runs his hands all over your body, all dirty and forbidden. Today is different. Something about it makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat. With dinner today, his first real shot at trying to know you as something other than his employee. As an outsider like everyone else.

“Would it kill you to call me Nathan?” He asks, raising a brow though his mouth is a little pouty.

It takes everything in you not to laugh. He looks ridiculous when he’s disgruntled. “That would be unprofessional, sir. Are those for me?”

“Yeah, they’re for you. We still on for dinner?”

The words make your stomach flip. Not because you don’t want to, but because you do. Because words like that aren’t supposed to come out of your boss’ mouth. They’re too casual, too much like the one’s men you used to swipe through on your phone said.

“Yes, I’m still able to have dinner with you, sir. Am I able to leave early?” You ask, reaching for the stack of files.

“You can leave whenever you want.”

Your mouth pulls up into a half-smile, and you nod. “Thank you, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan leaves you be for the rest of the day. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, or be too clingy, something he’s never worried about before. He spends most of the day with the chef, yelling at him that he’s making everything all wrong— too salty or sweet or slimy or acidic— until it’s perfect. He needs it to be perfect. And once it is, he appears in the doorway of the lab your office is in, calling out to you in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

You inhale softly as you two make your way to the kitchen, the smell of familiar herbs and spices in the air. “Italian?”

“Compiled some data— this seemed like the smartest choice.”

“Compiled some data? On me?”

“I compile data on everyone. I need to learn.”

“What could you possibly have to learn about me?”

“Everything. You’re really fucking secretive.”

“I’m not secretive, I’m private,” You reason.

Nathan snorts, looking at you with an expression of disbelief, “You have to realize that those things are the same.”

“They’re not,” You counter before thinking better of it.

This is why you were quiet and avoided him as much as possible— Philippa isn’t the only one in your family with a streak of defiance. Denying authority runs in your blood, it has taken you years to quell it.

“They are if somebody’s trying to get to know you.”

“And that’s what you’re doing, Mr. Bateman? Trying to get to know me?”

He shrugs, feeling a little too unsettled— a little too nervous to reveal his intentions so early on.

“What did you learn with this data you compiled on me?”

“That you like noodle dishes of all kinds, but preferably Italian. And chocolate.”

There are two places settings sat at the corner of the table, a few bowls of various pastas, salads and breads. Dinner is surprisingly calm. He asks you simple, noninvasive questions about your past. He knows where you went to school and what past jobs you’ve had, but he asks you how you felt about them, if you made friends. He asks for your favorite movies and bands, supplying his own when you ask the same questions. It’s the most benign conversation you’ve ever had with him and it feels…good.

He surprises you when he says, “This. Again. Maybe next week?”

Your mouth goes flat with confusion, “You want to have dinner with me again, sir?”

“Nathan,” He suggests, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes narrowing. “If this is some sort of joke, I don’t appreciate it, Nathan.”

Sweet, sweet music to his ears. Even with the attitude in your voice, Nathan drinks in every drop of his name on your tongue. In fact, he thinks the edge makes it better— it makes his blood hot. It makes him want you.

He leans closer, peering at you from over his glasses. “I’m an asshole and a clown, a shitty combination but what I’m not is an idiot, sweetheart. I wouldn’t joke about this,” His face is earnest as he speaks.

But, what does that even mean when it comes to him? You’re not completely sure. What’s worse is that you don’t know if your stomach is flipping at the idea of him telling the truth or disappointment that he may not be. The latter is what scares you most. When did you start to care about him like that?

“You— are you— you’re— you want to date me?”

Nathan bites his tongue for several seconds. He can’t say that he wants to do more than date you. He wants to consume you, to worship you, to spread you across this table and drink from between your legs until you whine and beg him for mercy. He can’t do any of that— not yet at least.

He settles for, “Yes.”

With his affirmative response, with nowhere to hide you look down at your empty plate, trying to process what’s happening. If this is true and he wants to date you, was this your first date? First dates are consensual, and while you had agreed to this dinner with him you hadn’t even been aware of your feelings at the time. Surely you couldn’t date your boss. It’s the total opposite of what you’d been trying to do— keep a low radar and be as competent and professional as possible to keep your family on the right path. You wouldn't jeopardize that for the hot, broad, bearded man sitting in front of you, even if he was looking at you with those gooey brown eyes. How long had you pretended you didn’t see him? How wide he is, how his shirts cling to his shoulders and chest, how sometimes when he comes straight to the lab after boxing his pheromones have you wanting to rut against him like an animal in heat.

You inhale a sharp breath, horrified and surprised by the thoughts racing through your head. It’s like he had unlocked a vault of vulgarities.

Finally, you look at him, apologetic, “Nathan…I can’t. I can’t do something that.”

Nathan notices right away that you didn’t deny feeling anything, and for now that’s enough. It’s an in. And if he’s not mistaken he hears a breathiness in your tone, hunger in your eyes.

“Why?”

“You’re my boss,” You say simply. It seems rather straightforward but Nathan frowns at you in confusion. For a man with such a big brain he could miss the mark sometimes. It would be endearing if it didn’t drive you a little nuts. Okay, maybe it’s both.

“What’s that gotta do with anything?”

“If it went poorly—“

“You think I would fire you over my ego?”

“Quite frankly, yes. I’ve seen how you treat people.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” He insists firmly. He knows it’s true, he just had to convince you.

“How would you know?”

“Because I know.”

“And if I say that’s not good enough? My entire family is dependent on me. On the money I make. I can’t and won’t put that at risk.”

Nathan scoffs, “There is no risk. I’m sure.”

“What if I’m not sure?”

“What’s that gotta do with how I feel?”

“Everything.”

“Nothing. It’s got nothing to do with how I feel, wanna know why? Because I put my ass on the line asking you here, not knowing how the fuck you feel about me. You’re the most elusive, sweet, competent…fucking arousing woman I’ve ever met. I’m spoken for.”

“Prove it,” You challenge.

This time he’s sure. He can hear how winded you sound and he knows that he’s affecting you. He wants to clear the table, crawl across and fuck you until neither of you can think. He’s getting ahead of himself.

“Prove it?”

“A trial of you showing me that all of what you said is true. We can spend more time together, but no commitments, and if it doesn’t work out I keep my job.”

“You sure? You’re gonna fall in love with me,” He warns, his grin mischievous.

“And you’re gonna have to work for it. Have you ever had to court a woman, Mr. Bateman?”

“No, sounds like I’ve got a lot of research to do. I’m a fast learner.”

“That you are.”

“Do you want to know your choices for dessert?”

“There’s choices?”

“Four.”

You grow thoughtful for a moment, before saying, “All of them. Bring me all of them.”

He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face— if he wasn’t in love with you already he is now. You allow yourself to look at him, to really look at him. And like this, his teeth white and shiny, eyes crinkled in the corners, warm brown eyes he looks sweet. Lovable. Like he could one day be yours. You won’t get your hopes up, not yet.

—

Nathan walks you to your car. It’s strange, much sweeter than you anticipating him being, but you did tell he had to work for it. You unlock the car with your remote and he gets your door. He ushers you in. He takes your hand and kisses it, his full beard tickling your skin in a way that makes your thoughts go hot and filthy.

“Drive safe for fucks sake.”

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You murmur in that soft little voice.

Nathan raises a brow at you as he leans against the car. “Are you sassing your boss?”

“No. I’m sassing the man that claims he wants to pursue me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but those are the same man, sweetheart,” He teases with a grin.

“Not if he’s gonna get it together, and prove it.”

“Touché. Let me know when you get home?”

“Keeping tabs on me already?”

“I— I always wonder,” He admits softly, and as you peer at him, you notice a soft flush in his cheeks.

He’s going to be the death of you, isn’t he? Getting all soft and sweet and flustered. You want to grab him by the collar and kiss him until his chest heaves with arousal and he cums in his pants. Instead you say: “I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” He takes a step away from the car, trying his best not to show how pleased he is with your agreement.

He feels like a walking raw nerve. You hold his future in your hands— his happiness, his sanity. It’s unhealthy and scary, how much control you have over him. But this time, he knows that the person is worthy. You’re worth any pain you could cause him, and that’s solidified by the way you grin up at him. It’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen. You looking at him like this, your saccharine smile, eyes full of mirth has his brain liquifying.

He grits his teeth at the way you’ve turned him into some Shakespearean loser. He could wax day in and day out about you. Write lines upon lines of code that would program nothing but his feelings for you. It’s stupidly perfect. He wants this with no one else. There is just you. Part of him is convinced that it’s always been you. He’s been on trajectory, making his way to you with every single decision. Fuck Bluebook. Fuck robots and their fake brains and gangly synthetic limbs. Fuck his data. Fuck all of his accomplishments. There’s just you.

“See you tomorrow, Nathan.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @kotaropuppy, @tenderhornynihilist

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 2: Oral Fixation - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

WC: ~750

CW: Dom!Eddie, sub!reader, PWP, oral sex (m!receiving), deepthroating, degradation, praise, implied subspace, cum swallowing, honorifics (master), slight overstimulation, oral fixation (obviously)

You come home from a long day, and all you want is something filling your mouth. You just need something to take the edge off, to help shut off your brain when it all just gets too much.

Thankfully, your boyfriend has the perfect remedy. You get home from a bad day, and he instantly knows. Today, you find him sitting on the couch with his notebook, scribbling away notes on a new campaign. The second you enter the room with a sigh he’s tapping his thigh to beckon you over.

Wordlessly you sink to your knees in front of him, falling into your routine effortlessly. He parts his thighs further for you to comfortably wedge your head between them. You place your cheek on his bulge, nuzzling it softly and giving a few soft laps through the fabric of his jeans before latching your lips around the soft curve of his balls. His impatient groan and the twitch of his hips give you all the instruction you need to undo his belt. You go to pull down his zipper, but he pauses you with a hand over yours.

“What have we talked about, baby? No hands without permission.” He pulls both of your hands down and clasps them behind your back before removing his jeans for you, leaving his boxers on. “Pull them off with your teeth, whore,” he growls as you begin to mouth at his throbbing erection.

You grip the waistband between your jaws and begin the agonizingly slow process of working them down his hips. Eddie does little to aid you, simply watching with a dark stare and minutely lifting his ass once you get far enough down.

Finally, you get his cock to spring free. Too impatient and hazy to bother getting his boxers the rest of the way off, you dive in head first, eagerly wrapping your lips around his tip and sliding the first half of him into your throat with a thrill. He groans at the sudden stimulation, cock twitching with the effort not to burst too fast as you start to work your head up and down his length.

He fills your mouth so gloriously. When you push down he hits the opening of your swallow and it shuts everything in your brain right off, leaviyou filled with TV static and euphoria. You force yourself to gag on him before lapping at his balls feverishly, reveling in the way they tense under your attention.

Eddie attempts to keep working on his campaign, he really does, but how is he supposed to when he’s got such a messy desperate girl choking on his dick like it’s preferable to air? It’s not long before he discards the notebook in favor of grasping the back of your hair and forcing your head down further, happy to help you satisfy your need to fill your mouth.

He almost whimpers when you suck hard on his sensitive head, “Fuck, you little slut,” he gives a rough thrust into your mouth, “Is this what you needed today? Just to be a toy with a filthy, fuckable mouth?” He holds you down with your nose pressed to his base, feeling you gag and sputter around his length. “That’s my good girl, choke on my thick cock some more and I’ll let you swallow my cum soon.”

The idea of making him cum down your throat fills you with enough excitement to make you moan around him as he bucks his hips against you, hitting the roof of your mouth with enough force to bruise. You fight the urge to push away to breathe, your need to please your boyfriend far overpowering your instincts. Eddie’s abs tense as he moans unrelentingly now, every tap of his balls against your chin driving him closer to the edge. You pry your fluttering eyelids open to stare up at him, and as your eyes meet his hips still, warmth floods your mouth. The taste has you moaning with him, hands finally coming up from behind you to grasp at the backs of his thighs and force him to stay inside while you drink your fill of his seed. You don’t pull away until he’s whining with overstimulation, “Okay, okay baby that’s enough, god fuck I know you like it but no more,” and pulling at your hair to remove you. You release him with a pop, a string of drool connecting his tip and you as you lick your lips for his remnants of him.

“Thank you for allowing me to use your cock, master.” You peer up at him with soft doe eyes, and his dick nearly twitches back to life.

[lucid-loves]

Anon+ Requests: Come a Little Closer Part 2 (One Shot)

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.6k, Second part to a One-Shot

CW: strong language, fluff, bullying, slight mention of violence, one-shot, clear attraction, reader POV and Ghost POV, Minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, making out, oral, teasing, edging, rough sex, raw sex, protected sex (IUD)

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You have just joined the 141 and getting to know the boys has been a lot of fun. The only one that you seem to be having trouble getting close to is Ghost. It doesn’t stop you from having a crush on him or trying to catch his attention any chance you get. 

Part Synopsis: Ghost makes efforts to make you feel better after learning about your harrassment. This includes getting closer to you, showering you with affection, and destroying the lives of your bullies. Feelings are finally confronted after a meeting for a new mission, leading to the both of you to indulge as much as you can before deployment.

Part 1 ~ Part 2

You woke up in an empty bed, feeling well rested, cozy, and warm. Your senses first registered that familiar scent you fell in love with, reminding you of where you were. An involuntary grin crept along your face. There was something about waking up in Ghost’s bed, even if he wasn’t there when you did wake up. It felt like you belonged in his bed. It filled you with butterflies. 

Sunlight poured in through the window, illuminating the room brightly without the need of the electric light. Ghost was nowhere to be seen, but it wasn’t like he left without a trace. On the nightstand was a light breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast with jam, a fruit salad, and tea. It was obviously food from the cafeteria, but the fact that Ghost went all the way there, organized a plate for you just how you liked, and brought it all the way back for you to wake up too had you melting from the inside out. You knew that he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but this was a whole different level. 

And he wasn’t even your boyfriend.

You took up the plate to enjoy, noticing a note underneath addressed to you. It was on a sticky note, so the message was brief. However, you still felt the care that went into each stroke of the pen. 

Y/n,

Try to take it easy today. See Price for a new room when you’re ready. There’s some better clothes for you on top of the TV stand. 

-Simon 

You were nothing but goo on the inside at this point. Your cheeks turned pink and you grinned with joy. It was crazy how happy you felt by his consideration. It seemed like he really cared about you. For a moment, you wondered if all of this chivalry could mean something more. Did he have feelings for you too? Would he be this way with another girl? Was he just being nice out of pity?

Shaking your head, you cleared the intrusive thoughts. Ghost wasn’t the type to be considerate out of pity. He was just considerate. You didn’t want to spoil your appetite either thinking about him doing this with other women. It may have been selfish, but for a little while, you just wanted to pretend that all of this was exclusive to you. 

As you ate through your breakfast, you thought about your potential new room. Cleaning up your old one and salvaging what you could was going to take a little time. Perhaps you should consider installing an extra lock just in case. 

Meanwhile, Ghost was busy examining camera footage from last night in a security room, trying to catch the assholes that decided to harrass you. He examined the monitors closely, watching the past-you head into the showers with your caddy and clothes without a care in the world. Then, he saw the culprits creep along the halls. A group of young boys. Four of them. After congregating outside the showers, they split into pairs. One pair headed into the showers, soon coming out with your clothes, while the other headed down to your room. They made quick work of picking your lock, the locks themselves quite dated since it wasn’t much of a priority to fix on base. 

Underneath one of the boy’s shirts was the outline of a few beer bottles. The door closed, hiding all the awful things that they did from the camera’s perspective. However, within just a few minutes, they all came back out, prideful grins on their punchable faces. He was quick to identify the men with the security tech. From there, he pulled their files up. 

He read all of their personal information without remorse. Reputation notes on base, strengths, weaknesses, family history, educational history. Ghost realized that this was your old squad. Compared to your file, the boys were unexceptional. No wonder you were pulled from them. 

No wonder they had a bone to pick with you.

The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together as Ghost investigated more and more. Pulling out old mission files from your old squad revealed consistent success, yet, not without teamwork struggles. Accidents, incidents, and “mistakes” were recorded in each mission. It was clear that you picked up the pieces and dragged the team to success despite the tension, an unfair burden to place on your shoulders. 

There was no record of explicit details of harassment or reports of bullying. He deeply sighed, picturing you facing your harrassment only to decide that it was better not to say anything. Surely, you weren’t afraid of the consequences if you spoke up. Ghost knew that that wasn’t how you were based on how you have worked with them. No, you kept your mouth shut to save your own reputation. You were someone that wouldn’t be sway by something as juvenile as bullying out of jealousy. 

For a moment, Ghost admired your resolved. At the same time, he wanted to scold you for being stubborn about not telling anyone. These boys didn’t belong on base. They didn’t even seem to belong in higher education. 

Ghost decided that these boys had to go.

~

You were cleaning up your old room, taking irreplaceable belongings to be moved to your new room. Price was notified about what happened from Ghost. When you saw him about a new room, Price more than complied. He got you a room closer to the other 141, figuring that you would feel safer if your neighbors were your teammates. He also demanded full details on any and every past incident of harassment, taking careful notes to keep on record. This would make sure that the boys would really be blacklisted from other branches of the military. 

It felt awkward telling him the long list of incidents, your captain’s eyes staring straight into your soul to get every ounce of the truth. Every so often, he looked like he wanted to scold you for not speaking up sooner, but he choked it down. You did what you thought was right and it technically was. It was clear that you were someone that didn’t crumble under pressure. You’ve proven yourself fully on that front. His trust in you grew as he looked at the long report you both worked on.

“Y/n, do you want these to fix?” Soap asked you, holding up a broken picture frame that, with a little wood glue, could be fixed. You would just need a new sheet of glass for it. Soap and Gaz had volunteered to help you clean as soon as they heard what happened. They were in your old room with you, picking up anything you deemed unsavable for trash. 

“Sure. Thank you guys again for helping me out.” You graciously thanked, putting the broken frame in a box along with other things you plan to fix. 

Gaz waved his hand, dismissing your gratitude. “It’s nothing. You’re one of us. We would do this for any of our team members.” 

“How’s Ghost doing? Have you seen him?” You couldn’t help but inquire. You haven’t seen him since last night when he tucked you into bed. There were rumors circling around the base that he was in a sour mood with the rookies, taking it upon himself to dictate their training regime today. 

Soap shook his head and chuckled at your question. “Giving them hell out there today. I saw him earlier doing spar training. He’s beating the shit out of them. Not sure if it’s actually helping better his mood.”

A laugh escaped Gaz as he swept up broken glass. “Knowing him, it’s probably not. He won’t be happy until he sees tears.”

You pictured Ghost demanding more laps, more push-ups, and more pull-ups. Throwing hard punch after punch towards your bullies as they try to figure out what they did to piss him off so bad. The idea of him defending your honor like that made you feel fluffy inside. Yet, your brain told you that you should probably talk to him about it, especially if he wasn’t feeling better after it all anyway. 

Looking around the room, you could tell that you were just about close to done. Cleaning was easier to do when you just simply had to throw most of the things away. You managed to save your pictures and personal trinkets. Anything cloth was ruined, but replaceable. The mattress had to be tossed, but that was on the military to replace since it was just one of their standard-issue barracks mattresses. 

As you took a look around, Gaz handed you a cold soda. “You going to miss it?”

You shrugged, the soda opening with a satisfying sound. Soap was handed one as well to which he gratefully drank. It was pretty warm in the rookie barracks, the building getting the most sunlight beating down on the building. The air conditioning system was pretty old as well, making air circulation a challenge. Soap, Gaz, and you were sweating through your shirts. 

“Nah, not really. As much as I tried to make it look like home, it didn’t really feel like it, you know? Not too many pleasant memories here either.” You honestly answered, tucking your small box of things between your side and your arm to carry out. Gaz and Soap finished their cans and grabbed as many trash bags as they could.

Before they closed the door to the empty room, you said a silent, final goodbye to it. You weren’t going to miss it, but it was still a small part of your life that you wouldn’t forget. 

As you and the men walked across base with your things, you could see your old team completing jumping jacks, sweat soaking their clothes and their skins completely red from exhaustion. Ghost was glaring them down, conveying that if they even thought about slowing down that he would have no problem tacking on another ten.

You sighed and turned to Soap, holding out your box of things to keep safe. “You mind holding this for me? I’m gonna go talk to him real quick.

Once he took your things, you made your way to Ghost who didn’t even realize you were coming. It wasn’t until one of the boys locked eyes with you with a contemptuous stare that Ghost realized that you were behind him. He had the urge to punch him just for looking at you like you were the bad guy. However, he held his cool for you.

“Y/n, something I can help you with?” He asked respectfully, his tone full of his lieutenant authority. As much as he wanted to be sweeter with you, he couldn’t let down his deadly facade in front of the boys who decided to take their jealousy out on you. 

You looked to Ghost and then to your bullies, seeing just how exhausted they were. Their chests were heaving, trying to take in as much air as they could. They had bruises forming on their arms and legs, injuries from sparring. They looked like they could drop dead at any moment. “I think they need a break. Don’t you think so?”

Ghost narrowed his eyes at them, seeing how exhausted they were for the first time today. He was pushing them hard. Too hard. He didn’t regret it though. But, he supposed that they suffered enough before being discharged. “Alright. You’re done with your drills. Follow me to your captain. We have some important news to discuss.”

The rookies sighed in relief, their legs shaking from fatigue. In the brief moment when they took a quick breather, Ghost turned back to you, his gaze softening slightly. “I’ll see you later. Still have business to take care of.”

You gave a respectful nod and salute before heading back to your new room. As you left, Ghost watched you go. The plain shirt and simple joggers he left for you fit nicely on your figure. He was worried that it wouldn’t be suitable for you. Thankfully, you seemed perfectly satisfied with your new clothes. 

The way the joggers hugged your hips and accentuated your curves near had him drooling, though. 

Snapping out of his stupor, he barked at the rookies to get a move on to their captain. Finally, they will be sent back home and learn more consequences for their actions. 

~

It’s been a week since you first moved into your new room. It was a little bigger than the rookie barracks, allowing more pieces of furniture to fit in the room if someone had a piece from the outside. You had spent your nights settling in. Fixing your things, putting them up, folding new clothes and uniforms, and decorating the space with new things. You had a new bookshelf now which Ghost built for you while you focused on the new wardrobe. 

You told him that you could build a simple IKEA bookshelf by yourself, already grateful that he was proactive in getting rid of trash soldiers that didn’t belong. However, he was insistent on helping you out, finding any and every opportunity to spend time with you. Not that you were complaining. You loved how much he was spending time with you. 

Everything seemed just about perfect. Until the 141 was called into a meeting to discuss the details of the next mission. Another deployment to save the world. The team was given their target, their route, and their grace period. Deployment would start tomorrow. 

It felt a little strange to say goodbye to your new room so soon. It felt like you just managed to call it home. As you looked around, taking it all in, there was a soft knock on your door. When you called for them to come in, you were met with a rather anxious-looking Ghost. You’ve never seen him this way before. 

“Hey, is something wrong?” You asked softly, conveying a certain gentleness that made his heart stir. 

He cleared his throat as he closed the door behind him, wanting a little privacy. “Actually, I wanted to check on you. You seemed depressed at the briefing.”

You gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Just didn’t think we’d be deployed so soon. That’s all.” 

He nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t make a motion to leave. For a moment, he looked around your new room, taking in all the pictures of family, friends, and art. You looked so happy in all of the pictures, a wide grin on your face in each one. The combination of smells from your detergent, perfume, and air freshener suited you well. He couldn’t imagine your room smelling any other way.

On the wall was an empty picture frame. It was small, only being able to house a picture less than the size of a standard sheet of paper. It was on your nightstand, clearly meant to be something important to you. “What’s supposed to be in that frame?”

You looked at what he was referring to and picked it up, tracing the smooth frame with your fingers. “I’ve been saving this frame for a special picture. A team picture whenever there’s a chance to take one. Gaz, Soap, Price, Kate, you, and me. Sorry if that sounds cheesy.”

“It’s not.” He corrected you quickly, taking the frame out of your hands to put back on your nightstand. He actually found it really sweet. He had a few pictures of him and his team, but it needed an update to include you. The picture he had was a little dated anyway, showcasing a team when they first formed.

With a warm smile you, pat the space on your bed next to you, gesturing for him to take a seat. He took it, his weight causing the mattress to dip in. You ended up moving closer to him from the sudden dip, your side pressed against his. Awkwardly, you laughed and scooted back further, trying to give him some space. Your cheeks were burning red hot from the contact, something that Simon definitely noticed. 

As he looked at you, his heart began to pick up the pace. It’s been a while since the two of you were in a private space together like this. While he did help set your room up, the door was always left open and you were obviously busy working. Now, he had your full, exclusive attention. 

Simon has been waiting for a moment like this. Since the team was to be deployed tomorrow, it was now or never to do what he wanted to do.

“Y/n, I got something important to tell you.” He began, his stomach tying itself in knots. He hasn’t confessed to anybody in a long time. Actually, now that he thought about it, he never did. He was always the one being confessed to. His feelings have never been strong enough for anybody to be the one to confess first. Until he met you, that is.

You looked up at him, your head tilting in curiosity. What could Ghost possibly want to talk about? His expression was gravely serious, making you filled with anxiety. “Yes?”

He took a deep, shaky breath as he tried to find the words to say. As much as he ran through a script through his head, it was hard to say the words out loud. It was like the words would stop in his throat and choke him. Damn, why was this hard? His gaze dropped to the floor as he kicked himself for being so pathetic.

Seeing him seem to struggle with his words broke your heart. Wanting to provide some encouragement and comfort, you took his hands into your, giving them a little squeeze. 

When his eyes met yours again, he saw nothing but warmth. Nothing but love. For a minute, one of his hands left yours to remove his mask. For the first time, you saw Simon’s face in the full light. It took your breath away. The way his eyes shone a brilliant blue, sharp to match his features that seemed to be carved from marble, made you feel like you could jump with joy. It was an honor to be trusted this much.

The hand that left yours went up to caress your cheek, Simon not being able to help but touch you when you looked at him like he was the most handsome man you have ever met. He took in your features too. Your beautiful eyes, kissable lips, the cutest nose he’s ever laid his eyes on. 

He still couldn’t say the words he needed to say, however, he was a man of action anyway. Slowly, he leaned in to kiss you, something that you met halfway because you wanted to kiss him just as bad. The feeling of his lips on yours gave you shivers, a warmth creeping to every part of your body. Simon’s lips were a little chapped, yet soft nonetheless. Already, you felt like you would become addicted to his kisses. 

Feeling a little greedy, you deepened the kiss, your kisses becoming more intense and feverish. Not being able to resist, Simon leaned into it, his tongue swiping your lips for permission to which you eagerly granted. When his slick tongue met yours, you moaned against his mouth, control crumbling away each second. 

God, he tasted so good. So much better than you imagined. His hands landed on your hips, pulling you closer to him until you were flush against him. He ate up every moan that came from you, his tongue gliding against yours to keep them coming. You shuttered as his hands gripped your hips, refusing to let you go for even a moment. 

Simon pulled to let you catch your breath. However, he was far from being done with you. As you gasped for air, he peppered your neck with intense, needy kisses. His tongue dragged along your skin followed by a bite to leave a hickey. Hands began to crawl up under your shirt, his large, strong hands feeling up your smooth skin. 

You trembled and bit your lip, praying that he wouldn’t stop touching you. Your thighs rubbed together tightly as you felt the electricity travel through your sex. There was no doubt in your mind that you were already getting hot and wet for him. The love bites he was leaving on your skin felt amazing.

Naturally, you fell back onto the bed as Simon kept leaning towards you. Before he knew it, he was on top of you, fondling your breasts underneath your clothes. His fingers worked their way underneath your bra to pinch your nipples. They were hard between his fingers as he squeezed, pinched and tugged. 

Your back arched from his touch, legs spreading unconsciously so he could fit right between them. As your back arched, he took the opportunity to unsnap your bra. His lips crashed into yours after he pulled your bra and shirt over your head, allowing him to have a clear view of your gorgeous body. 

As he looked down at you, he swallowed hard. Perky, pink nipples, blushing skin, shivers traveling through your nerves. Christ, he was turned on. There was a tent in his pants that rubbed against your crotch, sending delicious aches for more through you. 

“Sorry, love. I didn’t even say what I wanted to say yet.” Simon suddenly apologized, realizing that he was eating you up much too quickly. He couldn’t help it. You were his favorite meal now. 

You gave a genuine chuckle, finding his thoughtfulness yet thoughtlessness cute. “It’s alright, Simon. We can keep going. I don’t mind it if that’s how you want to convey how you feel.”

His eyes flashed with pure love for you. He was grateful that you could read him this way. Still, you deserved to hear the words out loud. “My feelings for you extend past just physical contact. I want us to be together with the long-term in mind. This is just me being unable to resist you.”

While unconventional, you still found his words to be romantic. He was making the effort to say them to you, after all. Your heart swelled for him, filling with joy as you learned that he shared your feelings. A large smile naturally formed on your face. “I feel the same exact way. I want to be with you as a couple. The more I have gotten to know you, the more I want you.”

Simon gingerly laid himself on top of you, sealing the deal with a deep kiss. You could feel his heart hammering inside his chest, feelings overflowing from the both of you. When he pulled away, you cleared your throat awkwardly, a new embarrassment sweeping across your cheeks.

“So. . . Are we going to continue?” You cautiously asked, afraid that you’ll sound like a complete pervert if you didn’t choose your words carefully. 

He quirked a brow, propping himself up with his muscular arms to see you better. Simon didn’t expect you to want more even with how far you’ve already gone. He didn’t want to rush you, but he wanted to be honest. “You want to? If we do, I can’t promise that I can be gentle right now.”

The sound of your beautiful laughter filled his ears again. “Thank you for your honesty. I still want to. I don’t mind if you’re rough with me. I just want to experience all of you before deployment. Who knows when we will get this chance again.”

Your honesty was a breath of fresh air, relief falling upon his shoulders. The fact that you were willing to accept all of him meant the world to him. You wanted him as is, no matter what that entailed. Ghost would do his best to not push you too far. However, he still planned to fuck you good. So good that you would never imagine being with another man.

He stripped his shirt off, allowing you to touch his scarred chest freely. Shivers went down his spine as your hands traced them, his muscles flexing under your touch. You were practically salivating at his muscles. Simon felt amazing to touch and see in the light. You could hardly believe that you had the privilege to touch him like this.

You gulped, your cunt getting slicker as he slowly pulled your pants off. The terms “boyfriend” and “lover” floated around your brain along with “Simon.” All you could think about was him and the fact that he was now your boyfriend. Plus, he wanted to fuck you as much as you wanted to fuck him. 

Raising your hips, you allowed your new boyfriend to remove your pants completely along with your panties. Simon took a second to get nude too, not wanting you to feel alone in your vulnerability. From his pants sprung his arousal, slightly bigger than average and girthy. Throbbing, aching. The sight made you shutter in anticipation, imagining it filling up your pussy and fucking you like he was claiming you. God damn, did you want him to make you his.

Instead of filling you up like you wanted, he continued more foreplay, needing to make sure that you could fit him comfortably. Besides that, he wanted to drive you crazy. He wanted you to get so worked up that you would beg for him. He wanted you to not just want him, but need him.

Simon began raining kisses down across every inch of your skin. He nipped, bit, licked, and suckled everywhere, taking note of your most sensitive spots to exploit. So far, you whimpered when he attacked your neck. You gasped when he bit your nipples. You moaned when he squeezed your thighs. Flipping to expose your back, you absolutely squirmed when he traced his tongue along your spine. 

“Hold still, love.” He sensually whispered, kisses landing on your sensitive back with his weight trying to hold you down. You moaned as you felt him suckle, determined to leave his marks all over you. 

“I can’t when you’re teasing me like this!” You confessed, shuttered as his fingers slowly traced the curve of your back.

He smirked behind you, watching you tremble. “Your back sensitive, love?”

A small nod signaled that you were. Your hips were lifted naturally as you arched, perfect ass pressing against Simon’s hard-on. His breath hitched and he grabbed your hips to stop you from any attempts at grinding. Your pussy was drooling down your thighs, folds swollen pink. As he guided you to raise your hips further, he sighed. “Damn, look at this fucking mess. Hold still for me. And I mean it.”

Before you could ask what he was doing, you felt his tongue lap up your mess, causing you to moan loudly into the pillow. It felt like your whole body was charged with electricity as Simon slipped his tongue into your dripping, hot cunt, tasting you like candy. Trying to stifle your volume, you buried your face and bit your lip. 

He traced the length of you, feeling how soft you were from your entrance to your swollen clit. All with his wet tongue that you couldn’t get enough of. As he devoured you from behind, his hands grabbed your body, groping your hips, waist, thighs, and back to feel more of your softness. You were nearly screaming as he sucked on your clit, lathering it with his taste buds. It became nearly impossible to stay still, earthquakes running through you in waves.

“Even if I keep cleaning you up, you keep making more of a mess. Are you that turned on, love?” He teased, his tone light but his voice husky. Simon hardened his grip on you as you shook to keep you still.

“S-Simon!” You whined, embarrassed by his teasing. Hearing his name cry out for him like that made him throb, his cock aching to be inside you already. Little did he know that he was actually edging you. You were incredibly close to an orgasm with how long the foreplay was going. You felt your pussy tighten and leak, yearning for release. However, Simon always slowed down just enough to keep you hanging. 

What you really wanted to do was cry out for him, beg him to fuck you already. Of course, you didn’t say anything though. All you could really do was moan and whimper to avoid fully embarrassing yourself. You didn’t want to seem desperate, even though you were. 

Simon was ready to hear you beg, though. “What is it, love? What do you want?”

He continued to tease you, still darting his tongue out to play with every corner of your cunt. You gasped as he began to eat you out again, a mix of his saliva and your nectar running down your legs and staining your new bed sheets. Fuck, why won’t he just fuck you already?!

It suddenly clicked for you. Simon was waiting for you to beg. The longer you held it in, the longer he would wait to give you what you really wanted. You didn’t know that Simon was that kind of dominant man in bed, but Jesus, did it make you melt for him. 

“S-Simon, please! Please fuck me already!” You cried, not being able to take any more of his teasing. 

His kisses on your cunt slowed to a stop, a grin forming on his face as you begged for him. Just before he could reach down to the floor for his pants to fish out a condom from his wallet, you grabbed his wrist. Butt still in the air, you wiggled your hips. Your eyes were glazed over with desire, making his breath shutter. 

“Now, Simon!” You continued to plead, losing your patience by the second. 

“Love, I need to get a-”

“I have an IUD! Fuck, just put your cock inside me already!” You interrupted him, the need in your body almost painful at this point. Whether he meant to or not, he edged you for too long.

Ghost wasn’t prepared to hear such dirty talk come from your sweet mouth, but he loved it. He loved that you dropped your manners in desperation for him. Without any hesitation, he positioned himself behind you, rubbing his head between your folds to get some of your natural lube on him. The feeling of his hard erection entering you was agonizingly slow for your needs. 

Clinging onto the sheets, you whimpered, the feeling of his huge cock stretching you out making you quake. However, it wasn't enough. You didn’t care if it would hurt. You needed all of him. Now. “Si-”

Before you could call for him for more, he roughly slammed his hips against you, bottoming out completely all of a sudden. Your breath got trapped in your throat as an orgasm crashed over you. All that edging made you cum just from being entered so roughly. Pleasure traveled all throughout your nerves, Your pussy clenched down tightly, Simon having to grip your hips to steady himself. The feeling made his own head fuzzy. “Shit, love. You’re so fucking tight! Did you just cum?”

Your heart was nearly thumping out of your chest, still getting over your sudden climax. “You were edging me! I couldn’t help it!”

“Oh, sorry, love. I’ll make it all up to you.” He promised mischievously before absolutely ravaging you with his cock. His thrusts were hard and fast, sending ripples along your ass as he pounded into you.

You screamed into the pillow, the sensation almost overwhelming you completely. He rubbed against every sweet spot you had, hitting you deeper than you ever experienced before. Hands landed on the small of your back, holding you down on the bed as you took every single inch of him. This downward dog position had him rub your g-spot over and over again. Your mind began to feel numb, moan after moan leaving your lips that sent Simon into a frenzy.

He wanted to make you moan even more. More than that, he wanted to hear his name from those pretty little lips of yours. “Moan my name, love. Let me hear you cry it out.”

His cock pulsed as you gave him exactly what he wanted. You gasped, moaned, and cried out his name, each time sending you closer to the edge again. Having his name escape from your lips made you aroused as well, your pussy clenching around him in a way that made Simon want to give you even more. He was glad that you liked it rough. Of course, he would eventually make love to you nice and slow. Tonight though, he really wanted to keep fucking you as if you’ve been together for a long time already. 

This was him at his most wild. Thank god you could be wild too. 

“Fuck, love! Keep tightening around my cock like that and I’ll cum!” Simon groaned, getting lost in his own pleasure as your hot cunt stimulated every inch of him. Each time he moved out, your pussy tightened around him to keep him in. Your juices were covering him entirely, making a mess out of the both of you. 

Hearing him warn that Simon will cum inside you sent a delicious shock of pure pleasure through you. You wanted him to do exactly that as soon as he mentioned it. Your insides craved it, tightening around him more to incentivize him to do it. “Do it, Simon! Please, give it all to me!”

He moaned, completely losing it as you begged for his cum. Without warning, he took one of your arms and pinned it behind your back. His other hand rested on your head, grabbing a fistful of hair to completely pin you against the mattress in an inescapable position. Your vision blurred with stars as he railed you. Your abdomen clenched and your body trembled as you felt another orgasm hit you. 

As you cried out in ecstacy, Simon gave away his own grunts and moans, feeling the pressure build up. You felt so good cumming all over his length. How that much slicker you got, how you tightened to milk him dry, how you quivered against him. 

Before he knew it, he reached his own climax. Hot ropes of cum poured into the deepest parts of you. Jolts of electricity ran through you as you felt him throb at each release. You whimpered at the sensation, the feeling prolonging your orgasm. By the time he was done filling you up, you were shaking like a leaf. 

Finally, Simon let go of you, slowly pulling out and watching your combined fluids drip down your thighs and to the bed. He noticed your arms were red with how firm he gripped you. Sweat shimmered on your body, giving you a whole new beauty that he fully appreciated. He gently helped you lay down, your limbs feeling like total jelly and your mind nothing but fuzz. 

As you caught your breath, Simon grabbed one of your small hand towels along with a bottle of water from the mini-fridge he helped install in your room. For a moment, he was worried that he was too rough with you. However, as you came to, your expression seemed content. Satisfied. You’ve never been dicked down like that ever. It was something you always wanted to experience. Masturbation wasn’t enough to give you an orgasm that strong either. 

You were glad that you could experience it all with Simon as his new lover. 

He handed you the bottle of cold water, allowing you to drink first. As you drank, he cleaned you up with a towel. It was nice that he could be such a gentleman even after such rough sex. “You okay, love? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all. That was fucking amazing!” You honestly confessed, a grin on your face. Now that the both of you were done and he’s seen it all from you, you weren’t as embarrassed as before. 

Simon gave a soft smile back, drinking from the bottle when you handed it to him. “Good. You really are something special, you know that, y/n? You take me for me. You aren’t afraid to say what you want and get what you want when it comes to things you really care about.”

His compliments were so sweet and heartfelt that you felt compelled to kiss his cheek. And that you did, your soft lips landing on his cheek. “Thank you, Simon. I really appreciate it. You know, I think you’re really special too. You were my muse during my training, you know? Seeing your high scores around the base, hearing about all the great work you’ve done, all the respect you earned. It inspired me to become the best soldier I could be for my country. So, thanks for believing in me and helping me do just that.”

Suddenly, he pulled you into a tight hug, laying in your bed with you. Hearing those words come from you meant everything to him. While he had confidence normally, a part of him always wondered if he had become the man he always wanted to be yet. You had just given that confidence boost he needed to know that he was a good soldier, a good man, and a good lover worthy enough to be yours. 

You laid in his arms, taking everything in as he hugged you close. Finally, he was all yours. 

~

The plane was getting ready to take off, just waiting for your team to load up and settle in for the ride. You had a long trip ahead of you. A tough mission too. Gaz, Soap, and Price patted your shoulder as they got on, you having beaten them in boarding first. Then, Ghost came aboard, skull balaclava clinging to his face. He looked you up and down before giving you a firm nod of approval, taking the spare seat beside you. You haven’t told the team that you two were officially dating yet, but they had their suspicions. Especially after Ghost disappeared into your room until morning last he was seen the night before. 

Now, it was quite obvious as he sat beside you, closer than every and taking your hand in his. They didn’t say anything, of course. They were just happy that the two of you finally got together. Everyone noticed how you looked at Ghost and how he looked at you. 

Simon squeezed your hand reassuringly as the plane took off into the air. You suppressed an obvious smile and closed your eyes, patiently waiting for you to arrive at your destination. 

While you were normally a bit nervous before a new mission, this time, you felt no fear. It was hard to feel any fear now that you had everything you could possibly want. A supportive team, friends for life, a new home, and the love of your life.