#russ chimes

[malvo-ish]

And today on "What Song do I associate Starbula with?":

Russ Chimes - Targa

I've tried to fight, I've tried to hide it But I want you, want you tonight I'm gonna bite the bullet I'm following your every move I've tried to fight, I've tried to hide it But I want you, want you tonight I'm gonna bite the bullet Oh baby, we'll be dancing all night I've tried to fight, I've tried to hide it But I want you, want you tonight I'm gonna bite the bullet I'm following your every move I've tried to fight, I've tried to hide it But I want you, want you tonight I'm gonna bite the bullet And I'll chase the night with you Oh baby, we'll be dancing all night Oh baby, we'll be dancing all night Oh baby, we'll be dancing all I'm following your every move Gonna chase the night with you I'm following your every move Gonna chase the night with you I'm following your every move Gonna chase the night with you I'm following your every move I'm following your every move I'm following your every move I'm following your every move Oh baby, we'll be dancing all Oh baby, we'll be dancing all night Oh baby, we'll be dancing all night

[longing-for-the-past-times]

The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - four.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: Price decides to have a movie night on base. You and Ghost have The Talk.

warnings: occasional swearing, man written by a woman (may have slightly idealised Ghost), miscommunication, emotionally constipated Ghost and reader, the episodic mentions of Ghost's groaning and blonde eyelashes, brief appearance of Keegan Russ, mentions of smoking

notes: this was not supposed to be this long, but ideas just kept coming and coming. As I have mentioned before, this was initially intended to be a filler chapter for the "grand finale" (aka the one where he falls asleep on you) - so this is why the ending may seem a little bit rushed.

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

four.

“So you want to have a movie night here, on base?”

“A movie night, tonight?”

“Can we bring snacks? And drinks?”

“What are we going to watch?”

Seated at his usual place in the mess hall, Captain John Price found himself struggling to hide the proud, fatherly smile that threatened to spread on his face. He was surprised by the enthusiasm with which his idea of a movie night had been met, yet there you were, all curious and excited about it. You were seated between Soap and Gaz, your food momentarily forgotten as you started planning the entire evening around his proposal. You three were so caught up in debating whether you should mix in all types of popcorn with nachos that you did not notice the insistent glances of the passersby. Or the aggressive glares that Ghost was shooting back, his balaclava only highlighting the coldness of his features.

It was the second day after your night out at the pub and after thinking about the events over and over again, he accepted, with resignation, that his innate need to protect you and keep you from harm's way had only grown stronger. Ghost was a man of few words and certainly, not one to publicly display his feelings, so when you came to him in the morning and thanked him for taking care of you when you got wasted, he just shrugged it off with a piss-poor remark that you would do the same for him. He did not miss the blush that spread across your face when you answered that you absolutely would, if there would ever be such an occasion, and left him with an awkward pat on the shoulder. Which was kind of ironic since, two nights before, you climbed him like a beanstalk and clung to him like a koala.

And there he was, longing for any kind of interaction from you, like the touch-starved mess that he'd become. He would have placed himself next to you at the table, but he didn't want to give Price more satisfaction - the older man had already figured out enough about the intensity of his feelings about you, the Polaroid that Simon now kept safely tucked in his wallet being proof of it.

And what was this with Price's sudden idea of a movie night? Ghost knew the Captain insisted on having a united team whose members can trust each other, after all that's why he handpicked you all to join, but another gathering besides the night spent at the pub was way too much for his social battery.

At least you had all accepted his quiet persona from the beginning, not attempting to push his buttons more than it was necessary.

Until you fell asleep on him in the lounging room.

And then again at the safe house.

And then again at the pub.

"Ghost, do you copy?"

Your delicate voice pulled him out of his thoughts, only for him to be met with the questioning look that was etched in your face.

"I know that look!", Soap quickly chimed in, a daring smirk on his face. "Who's the lucky woman, L.T.?"

"Or man- which is totally fine too!", Gaz added with an equal devious expression.

Both of them shut up when Ghost shot them his signature threatening look, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the tender smile on your face slightly falter. Before giving anyone the chance to further ruin the moment, he willed his eyes on you, softening his voice as much as he could:

"I'm sorry, Bambi. 'were you saying?"

"Would you like to join me later on a trip to the supermarket for snacks? I don't trust these two menaces with such an important task!"

He gulped loudly at the sight of the pleading look in your eyes, not entirely sure if you were just playing him, or if the doe eyes were really making a return. At that point, Simon had already memorized your features, being able to draw them with his eyes closed, but his heart still fluttered upon seeing your large and round irises, brimming with innocence and tenderness.

Additionally, he could feel Price's unwavering gaze burning into the back of his head. And he had a feeling the Captain would force his ass into the first available car and drag him to the supermarket with you.

"Sure - we can take my car... plenty of space for groceries", his words trailed off at the sight of the satisfied grin you gave him, your eyes brimming with joy. "We could go after the combat training if it's ok with you..."

"Absolutely! Thanks, Ghost, you're the best!"

You rose from your seat and placed your hands on his shoulders in what was meant to be half a hug before jogging out of the mess hall, a hot blush spreading across your cheeks.

The memories of the previous night were still blurry in your head, but you could recall the unique feeling of your cheek being pressed against a chest - Ghost's chest, the distinct smell of him still lingering on the black t-shirt you had neatly folded and placed on your bed. You did not plan to wash it any time soon.

You had thanked Ghost for taking care of you, but after the morning coffee chat you had with Soap, you actually felt the need to apologize for being such a burden. Of course, Soap had been just as intoxicated as you, so you couldn't place too much trust in his words. However, the recent teasing about the person that occupied Ghost's thoughts, made you feel uneasy about the whole situation. Were you being too clingy and touchy towards him - did you cross any of his boundaries? You hadn't even realised when you'd let your guard down in his presence, but it was certain that falling asleep on him without any negative reaction from his side, marked a significant step in that direction.

But now you had a chance to figure things out in the way adults do: by openly communicating with him. And the trip to the supermarket was the perfect cover-up for it.

You just had to keep to yourself until then - maybe try to limit your interactions with him as overstepping his boundaries was the last thing you'd wanted to do. It couldn't be that hard, right?

---

It was barely noon, and Ghost couldn't figure out what he'd done so wrong to make you avoid him like the plague. Did you get upset at him for not returning the hug? Did he not seem excited enough about the trip to get snacks?

Did someone put something in your food and you suspected him?

He thought it was nothing at first. After all, it would have been unusual for you to sit next to him at the morning briefing as you usually had a spot next to Gaz. But then you did not even seem to acknowledge his presence at the shooting range, barely muttering a greeting when passing him on the way to the lockers.

And now, ironically enough, you chose to spar with one of the Ghosts- none other than their scout sniper, Keegan Russ. On the one hand, it was actually a good move: you could learn and trade tips and tricks with a sniper as good as he was. On the other hand, Simon did not like the way his hands seemed to linger over your body every time you mounted an attack, or how his chest puffed when he was trying to walk you through some new move. Like him, Keegan always wore a balaclava in public, but unlike him, the younger operator did not seem to care about hiding his emotions: everyone could tell that he was smirking as he extended his hand to help you get up after he'd mercilessly tossed you on the mat.

Yet the next thing he knew, he was the one making contact with the mat, his back absorbing most of the impact. The sudden reversal in the sparring match left him momentarily disoriented, his eyes still searching for you and your new combat partner. It wasn't until he spotted Soap's concerned expression, the Sergeant hesitantly hovering above him, that he showed any intention of getting up. The Scot subtly followed his line of sight until his eyes landed on you and Keegan. You were beaming at him as he seemed to tell you a story based on the frantic way his hands moved, his icy blue eyes fixed on you as he spoke.

"Seems I got ya good, L.T.", Soap said as he helped Ghost back on his feet, giving him a slight pat as an apology. "Do you want to call it a day or-?"

He could barely hide his smirk before receiving a growl and a criminal side-eye in response. And he let his guard down as the next thing he knew, his arm was caught in a firm grip and his body flew over Ghost's shoulder, landing on the training mat with a loud thud. He could not stifle the groan that escaped him and closed his eyes in resignation. Once again, he learnt the hard way not to mess with the big man with the scary mask.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, MacTavish. We're here to train, not to ogle at others!"

"Copy that, sir!"

---

"I'm just telling you, Keegan, you've got to man up and talk to her!", you said between breaths as you dodged his incoming shots. "You wanted girl advice from a girl? Now you have it!"

"How can I know it won't just scare her off? Should- should I take off my mask, do you think that she'll see that as a clear sign that - you know?"

"It'll definitely be a step in that direction..."

Your words momentarily trailed off as you stole a glance at Ghost who was currently caught up in his own sparring match with Soap. He'd traded his usual skull mask for one of his balaclavas, and he wore his usual black t-shirt that allowed you to fully take in his tattoed arms, rippling with muscles and scars. Maybe limiting your interactions with him was a bad idea. Not that you had something against teaming up with Keegan - you two needed to do some catching up - and it was just the right time for it, but you felt you could have learnt a lot from the Lieutenant.

And at that moment you didn't mind being pinned to the ground by him, just like he did with Soap.

"So did you convince him to take his mask off?"

Keegan's question took you by surprise, as did his left foot, which interlocked with yours and sent you falling face-first. You could tell he was smirking under the balaclava as he helped you back up, and a grin also spread on your face as you shook your head in acceptance:

"Why would I ever do that?"

"Because I can feel his death stare on me right now and... I saw the picture from the lounging room. I think it was rather cute, you know?"

"No, I don't..."

The words came out slowly as your mind was trying to figure out what he could be talking about. The only pictures you had with Ghost were the ones taken after important missions, the ones with the other members of Task Force 141 and whoever may have been involved. And it was safe to say they could not be described as "cute".

"Oh come on, don't play dumb - the Polaroid picture from the lounging room? The one where you-"

"Sergeant L/N, 'you ready to go? I'll meet you at the car in 10."

Despite having interrupted your conversation, Ghost did not seem fazed by it. He didn't even wait for your confirmation- just turned his back on you and started walking towards that door with a certain smugness in his gait. As he took in the scene, Keegan's smirk widened under the mask. He may have needed girl advice, but boy- scratch that -special forces operator advice was a topic he was well versed in.

"I wouldn't make him wait if I were you", he resumed shrugging his shoulders and giving you a sympathetic look. "And thanks for the advice, I'll keep you posted on the situation!"

---

It took you 7 minutes to get changed and jog to Ghost's usual parking spot and he was already there, smoke in his hand. Even so, you felt the need to mutter a quick apology before getting in and fastening your seatbelt. Ghost was quick to follow, hopping into the driver's seat and starting the car.

He internally sighed when the radio began playing. It was going to be a long ride.

You, on the other hand, rested your head against the window, your mind brimming with questions about the mysterious picture that Keegan had mentioned. It was true that you had not checked the wooden panel for any new additions- at one point, you had completely forgotten about it, but it seemed some people took it seriously.

Involuntarily, your gaze slipped to Ghost. The Lieutenant was focused on the road, one hand holding the steering wheel while another rested on the gearstick. He was unusually calm and collected, unlike the chaotic driver you were used to. Did he know about the picture too? Was it bothering him in any way?

The car came to a sudden stop, brakes screeching on the hot concrete as he steered into an empty parking spot. You shot him a confused look as he turned off the engine and turned towards you, his chocolate eyes filled with questions:

"I've had enough", he began in a gruff tone that softened when his eyes landed on your face. "Come on, Bambi, out with it!"

You raised your eyebrows at his question, even if, deep down, you knew it was time for The Talk.

And you were so not prepared for it. So you decided to play dumb.

"Out with what? Do you want me to get out of the car or-?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"

His tone was even and his eyes too gentle for your liking. Part of you had wanted to get him all riled up so that you could justify the outburst that you were on the verge of having. Yet he only raised an eyebrow in question, leaning in the driver's seat and crossing his arms:

"You've been acting weird all day- ignoring and avoiding me. And you kept staring at me for the past quarter of an hour yet now you won't even look me in the eye! You've got to give me a hand here, Bambi because I have no idea what I did wrong!"

It was the second time in the past week that you'd heard him talk that much in one sitting, yet you were busy managing your stress levels, which were currently shooting through the roof. Turns out, you were not ready for The Talk. Communication was overrated anyway-

"You- you didn't do anything wrong and...", you answered incoherently, your mind trying to make sense of the words that were leaving your mouth.

"Y/N..."

"OK, fine! I-am-sorry-for-being-such-a-burden-to-you-and-intruding-your-personal-space-and-falling-asleep-on-you-without-having-your-permission-and-"

"What the hell are you talking about? Who- who even implied that you are a burden to me? Was it Russ- do I need to have a chat with him?"

"Oh no, Keegan had nothing to do with it. He was actually asking me for advice about this nurse he met and- you know what? Yeah, let's not go there..."

"I fully agree", Ghost nodded in compliance, partly amused by the unexpected oversharing side of you. "But, Bambi, you... You could never be a burden to any of us. Do you understand that?"

A sudden wave of clarity swept over your thoughts after you talked about it, and with it also came the furious blush that made you bury your face in your hands:

"God, I'm so embarrassed now..."

"Hey, hey, look at me!"

Ghost tried to control the faint shaking of his gloved hand as he placed it on your shoulder. He had figured out something was wrong, but would have never thought that you would see yourself as a burden, that you would intrude on his personal space? Why would you even think of such nonsense in the first place?

"If this is about you getting wasted at the pub, then you've got it all wrong!", he decided to continue when you lowered your hands and exposed the upper half of your face.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, would you quit looking at me with those doe-eyes? You have no idea what you are doing to me right now..."

He did not realise he said it out loud until you widened your eyes even more and proceeded to hide your face in your hands again, muttering a string of apologies. He let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head in disbelief. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would have to spend the afternoon like that, having this kind of talk in his car, in a random parking lot. Yet there you were, two operators, seemingly with no communication skills and a penchant for hiding your faces in masks and hands.

With careful moves, Ghost removed his gloves, trying to ignore the stark contrast between his fingers and yours. He then extended his hands towards yours, gently pulling them away from your face. The sight of your E/C eyes made him let out a soft sigh:

"I did not mean it like that... there is nothing wrong with the doe-eyes. There's a reason they call you Bambi after all.."

You let out a dry chuckle, your eyes still glued to the ground as you were relishing in the warm feeling of his touch. His hands haven't left yours- in fact, he pulled them into his lap and was currently playing with the metal ring you've quickly slipped on before leaving.

"I don't know who or what made you think you intruded on my personal space. You didn't."

His pause made you raise your eyes back to his face, momentarily losing yourself in his chocolate orbs. Your doe-eyes may have been one of his weaknesses, but his blonde eyelashes were going to be the death of you, you were certain of that.

"And you falling asleep on me? It - I can't believe I'm actually saying it out loud and correct me if I'm wrong in any way - it made me feel good, to know that you felt safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position when I am nearby- and not once, but thrice now..."

"Wait- you mean twice, right?"

His chuckle made you widen your eyes in disbelief. He was definitely smirking under the mask.

"Ghost, when was the third time?"

"I just told you all this deep and emotional stuff and this is what you decide to focus on?"

"Well, I am not good at dealing with emotions, as you can see!". The blush was making a rapid comeback.

"The point is", he resumed his idea, "that you have no reasons to think you are a bother to me. You are not. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ghost rolled his eyes as he turned the engine back on and gently let go of your hands, the remnants of your touch still warm on his fingers. He rolled out of the parking lot with ease, trying hard not to replay the awkward conversation that just took place, when your voice chimed in:

"Does this mean... hypothetically speaking, if I were to fall asleep during the movie night, and I were seated next to you..."

"Should I be concerned about your sleeping schedule? Or actually, the lack of it?"

---

You let out a brief sigh of relief as you got out of the car and headed towards the base, Ghost closely following you with two heavy bags in his hands. He refused to let you carry the bags under the pretence of having already trained hard enough today, but you knew it was just his specific way of reassuring you that things were good between the two of you.

As awkward as it had been, The Talk seemed to have cleared out any miscommunication issues you may have created inside your mind, and it certainly made you not feel bad about the moments you had drifted off on his shoulder. Or arms. Or whatever else place.

And as he was headed towards the kitchen, you made a bee-line to the lounging room, which, to your luck, proved to be empty. You turned on the lights and stopped in front of the wooden panel, your eyes quickly moving from one Polaroid picture to another. It had been a while since you last checked them as there were several additions that you hadn't been aware of: a blurred selfie of Soap and Gaz, a still shot of an unknown operator sipping his tea, a picture of Price, dozing off on his armchair and there it was, a snapshot of you, fast asleep on Ghost's shoulder, the Lieutenant staring at the camera with a blank look.

"I couldn't stop Soap from taking it."

You involuntarily flinched when you heard Ghost's amused voice. He must have snuck up on you as he was currently standing on your right, his eyes fixed on the picture at hand.

"Keegan mentioned it during combat training. I didn't even know it was there", You shrugged your shoulders at him.

"Does it bother you?"

There was something indescribable in his tone that made you halt for a second and look up at him. The glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes was not missed on you and your mind recalled the details of your previous conversation.

"It made me feel good, to know that you felt safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position when I am nearby"

"No, I actually kind of like it. Don't you?"

He let out a grunt as confirmation and you tried to fight the smile that threatened to spread on your face. You opened your mouth to tease him about it when Price, Gaz and Soap entered the lounging room, already having changed into civilian clothes. You quickly forgot what you were about to say when you noticed that Price was holding a DVD in his hands- and not just any DVD:

"We're going to watch 'The Bodyguard'?"

The captain busied himself with setting up the DVD player, but you could tell there was a smile on his face:

"What can I say? Your toast inspired me, Bambi!"

You shot a questioning look at Gaz who seemed equally as confused as you were, but then looked over at Soap who was chuckling under his breath:

"I may have left that bit out!", he confessed with a guilty grin, as he sat down on one of the sofas, Gaz joining him quickly.

"You don't remember the toast?", Ghost asked amusedly, having already taken his usual place on the couch. "You called Price 'the cool dad of the group' before blasting out 'I Will Always Love You' on karaoke."

Letting out a long sigh of defeat, you sat down next to Ghost, shaking your head in disbelief. That part of the night was still an empty space in your mind, and listening to bits of it did not help you remember anything about it. Yet you were not surprised by the music choice - it was your usual shower song so why not sing it when totally intoxicated as well?

"You also thanked Simon for taking care of you during the missions and letting you fall asleep on him", Price added quickly before Ghost could interject, a glimpse of his proud dad smile dancing on his face.

You raised your eyes to Ghost in a sheepish look, only to see him roll his eyes and extend his right arm on the couch, almost as an invitation for you to come closer. The lights were turned off and the movie started, but that did not stop you from raising an eyebrow in question. He merely nodded in your direction and you understood the message, trying to scoot over as quietly as possible. You hoped he hadn't heard the small sigh of satisfaction that left your lips when you cuddled up into his side, slightly leaning your head against his chest and taking a deep breath. You knew the movie by heart, it having been an integral part of your childhood, so instead of paying much attention to it, you redirected your efforts towards focusing on the multitude of sensations created by the close contact between Ghost's body and yours.

His familiar scent enveloped you like a comforting blanket, but it was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that made your eyelids heavy. There was something uniquely special about the whole situation- the intimacy and fragility of the moment mixed with the consistent cadence of his breaths and the occasional vibrations that would resonate from his chest, were lulling you to sleep.

And when you felt his fingers starting to trace circles on your back, you nestled your head in the crook of his neck and drifted off into a peaceful slumber. It seemed that lately, the only good sleep you got was in Simon's arms.

--- bonus scene

The movie had long ended, yet none of you made any attempt to get up and start cleaning after you. The lounging room was still dark, the faint light from the TV casting shadows on the opposite wall. Soap was loudly snoring, perched on his usual place on the sofa. Price had also dozed off in his designated armchair and Gaz was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, a blank look on his face.

Still leaning against Ghost's chest, you were trying to fight the last remnants of sleep that were still lingering around. You were aware that eventually you had to get up and go home, but Ghost's heartbeats were steady and reassuring and the weight of his arm on your back was comforting and warm enough to keep you trapped in between dream and reality.

You were debating whether you should open your eyes or not when, all of a sudden, the room was flooded with light, the unexpected brightness blinding your senses and making you let out a deep groan. You could feel Ghost shifting below, his arm leaving your back and you ended up opening her eyes when he whispered into your ear:

"Get up, Laswell's here!"

You eventually peeled yourself from Ghost, your mind having difficulties processing the piece of information - what was Laswell doing in England? Wasn't she supposed to be in the US, gathering intelligence and coordinating missions?

Yet there she was, in flesh and bone, already heading up the door as she signed you to follow her.

"I can't tell you how glad I am I've got you all here already", she turned to Price as she hurried towards the long hall and into the main briefing room. "It's better than having to call each one of you in the dead of the night.."

"Kate, slow down- what is going on?", John asked in a calming tone, throwing apprehensive looks at the files she was holding in her hands.

"Alright - is everybody here? Bambi, Soap, Gaz, Ghost?"

Laswell locked the door before going back to her usual place. Still dumbfounded from being woken up so suddenly, you looked up at Ghost, but the warm look in his eyes was long gone, replaced by the stone-cold one he sported during missions. You could tell that, internally, he was already preparing for whatever news Laswell was about to deliver. And the grim look plastered on her face, as she turned on the video projector, was foreboding enough:

"A shipment of biological weapons we've been tracking just went missing. We have good reason to suspect that our scouts have been compromised."

taglist: @neoarchipelago, @thecorruptedlovely, @mitchlow, @fieldsofbats, @thaprilks, @stars-andfreckles, @that-napa-know-how, @preistinajamjar, @iamaliceinwonderland, @allaboutirem0, @lilpothoscuttings, @01trickster10, @yyiikes, @joanne-uwu, @dorck26

[satelitis]

꒰ CAN'T GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY ꒱ . . . f reed !

pairing(s) : fulton reed x fem!portman!reader (romantic) , dean portman x sister! reader (platonic)

in which before the game against varsity, the portman siblings have a surprise up their sleeves.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : fluff, yelling, swearing

robin chirps : erm so im out of my writing slump and ziggy and i nonstop talk about tmd and our boyfriends, so i decided to surprise her since she kinda got me out of my writing slumps and introduced me to my bf charlie and one of the most amazing movies of all time <3 ily zigma!! [@spaceagebachelormann]

"your'e playing hard, i'm proud of you guys." coach orion reassured as he patted russ on the shoulder.

"they're cheap shotting us to death!" luis groaned.

"i know they are, i know they are." orion sympathized.

"It's gonna take a miracle for us to hold on." averman replied. little did the ducks know that "miracle" would be a little more unexpected then they thought.

suddenly, the door burst open revealing a tall brunette with a bandana around his head. dean portman.

"dean portman is awarded a full athletic and academic scholarship to the eden hall academy," dean read off his maroon folder. "i found this lying around at home in chicago, my attorny thought i should sign it, and i agreed." he continued. "it's offical boys, im back!" he exclaimed as all the ducks cheered, especially fulton. his heart broke the day that his best friend dean, and the love of his life, y/n had to go back to chicago. he was ecstatic at the sudden appearance of his fellow bash brother. but if dean was here...then where was y/n?

"hey you ass, where'd you go?" a voice spoke in the doorway. fulton could recognize that voice from anywhere. y/n. the voice was further identified when she herself wandered into the room. fulton was beyond shocked, jovial and he felt that he might have a heart attack because of how much was happening. in no time at all, y/n was in fultons arms their lips interlocked.

"did you miss me?" y/n teased, as fulton rolled his eyes, kissing her once again. dean looked partially disgusted.

"what the hell. why didn't i get one?" dean joked, activly trying to piss y/n off. the girl gave her brother the bird as the ducks laughed and watched the cute reunion. russ and averman made jokes in the background and snickered.

"oh, fulton! i missed you so much mwah mwah mwah." averman said in a feminine high pitched voice, as he faked kissing noises. russ continued with the bit presumably as fulton.

"i missed you too, babe." he said also mimicking kissing sounds. the ducks snickered. fulton proceeded to threaten the two.

"will you shut the hell up before i give you pucks for teeth?" he said. averman and russ laughed, as they stopped the bit. fulton turned his attention back to y/n now answering her question. '

"of course i missed you, you were gone for like ever." he exaggerated. but that's what it felt like for the couple.

"the phone calls weren't the same." he frowned softly.

"yeah, 'specially WHEN DEANS BREATHING ON THE OTHER LINE." y/n raises her voice as she turns back to dean.

"why didn't you call me and tell me you were coming?" he asked her,

"cause this was way more fun." she replied, a goofy grin on their faces. "you can't get rid of me that easily." she said.

'i'd hate to intrude on your little love fest but we got a bunch of temperamental man children's asses to kick." russ chimed in.

the ducks all cheered as they made their way on the ice.

"is that dean portman?" the teenage announcer asked. the crowd was in unbelief, "oh and his sister, y/n! they're both back!" he exclaimed.

"who are those kids? they cant play!" tom exclaimed. "they're on scholarship tom, my hands are tied." dean buckley replied.

"so you're the big enforcer, huh? well its nice to meet you, see, we have a lot more in common then you think-" dean rambled.

"shut up." the warrior spat, "lets play hockey," he said.

"whatever you say sunshine," dean shrugged, the game continued as dean ended up making cole go through the glass, shattering it.

dean and fulton cheered as they banged their heads together. "the bash brothers are back and they're here to stay and so is "y/n "the firecracker" portman, as she scores goal one for the ducks!" the announcer called out and boy was fulton beyond happy with it.

[faygosemen]

ion know what I'm doing here, but let me cook.

Rick Grimes x F!Reader

It's Alright

Era: Early Season 6

Summary: You have been with the group since Woodbury, surviving alongside Rick and his family up to when they found Alexandria. Now that they have "jobs," it's made tensions rise... until one night.

TW: SPOLIERS!!!, MDNI, 16+, age gap (early 40s-early 30s), mentions of trauma, death, dirty thoughts, pet names, praise, semi-public, maturbation, voyeurism.

You've been through a lot. Surviving the apocalypse with a toxic, manipulative, controlling man (the governor) didn't end well once he found Andrea and lost interest. As so once the attack on Woodbury started, flight really kicked in and you ran into Daryl, seeing him get toyed with like that; with a screaming mind and a weak stomach, you ran to help, dragging him out of the way of bullets. One of the people saw you drag him and yelled out with a furious, southern draw, "Hands in the air, NOW!"

Daryl quickly jumped in and started talking to him, the man and his expression softened slightly as he looked back at your wide-eyed stare before ordering the two of you to follow him.

Skip forward long, gruesome years later after joining their group, they arrived at the holy grail of the apocalypse: Alexandria. Many of the people unknowing of the horrors and willing to let people in. Houses down streets, electricity and plumbing, the closest thing to normal since the walking dead. The leader, Deanna, has you taking stock, farming, and a close friend of hers, and it's exhausting. All the while, Rick's back in a uniform... it couldn't get any better. Then Deanna decided to host a party, hoping to see everyone. There was a dress, however, a lavender color with velvet patches in the shape of roses. It barely went down mid-thigh. Something you haven't seen in years. It couldn't hurt for one night, right?

Your scavenged heels echoed against the hardwood as you walked throughvthe door, expired mascara on your lashes and a pink gloss on your lips, looking and feeling a bit out of place. Your past confidence slowly dwindled as you made your way through the crowd, that is until Deanna walked up with a large smile. "Y/N, good to see you made it. I hope you're getting to know everyone just fine." Nobody's even tried getting to know me, you thought, but put a kind smile on nonetheless. "It's almost like a dream being here. Thank you, Deanna."

The conversation is brief as Deanna wanders off, and you can sense a pair of eyes, looking around to see the man himself- Rick Grimes. His piercing blue eyes trained on you, a fresh shaven face, you noted, and a button-up with a few buttons open, revealing some of his curly chest hair. You audibly gulped. It was probably written all over your face, because he smirked and shook his head, sipping his beer. It was... nice seeing him like this, not scared of being eaten alive every minute of the day. But as soon as you seen him, he was walking outside, a last glance at you before shutting the door- an invitation?

You don't know of you're imagining things or if the juice is spiked, but you feel your heart fluttering and your stomach, face, and ears warm. What else is there to do?

Heading outside, you forgot how chilly it really was. Rick was leaning against the balcony, beer in hand as he looked out. His head turned at the click of the door, his steely yet warm eyes wandering- you hope he can't hear your heart racing. "It's strange, ain't it?" His voice is raspy, low, his southern draw evident when he drinks. You smile sheepishly and nod, standing beside him as the crickets chimed. "Which part? The normalcy or the ignorance?" Rick chuckled, the crows feet neer his eyes visible when he smiles. "Lil' bit of both." His gaze falls on yours, the wide eyes that have been diving him crazy for years on him. "... Interestin' dress, sweetheart." Your heart skipped a beat, but your smile grew and so did the heat on your cheeks. "I hoped you'd might like it."

It was his turn to be suprised, a sly grin creeping onto his features. "Just for me?" He asked, a little hesitant to believe it. Leaning into his side, your voice just above a whisper, "Just for you." Suddenly the door opened and you jumped away from him, giggling softly as it was Maggie and Glenn leaving, smiling to each other knowingly as waving the two off. The both of you looked and each other the same time and you giggled, a sound that made him start chuckling too.

"... Let me know if you need me, Rick," you spoke softly, batting your lashes with a smile. Before Rick could really say otherwise, you already started to walk off, heading back to your house for the night, his eyes watching every step.

As soon as you got home, you were kicking off your shoes and heading to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed all giddy like a high-school girl. Rick Grimes looked like he wanted to eat you whole, and you would let him. Your hand drifted down to your core, already a damp spot from your conversation earlier, a soft sigh leaving your lips. It felt wrong, but it only made the sensations sweeter, the tip of your middle and ring fingers teasing your sex with a gasp falling from your lips- you're too caught up in the euphoria you don't hear the front door closing.

He couldn't help but come back, not after what you had said to him; he needed you right now. But as Rick let himself in, there was silence- other than what sounded like a person talking upstairs. After taking a closer look by heading up the stairs... he heard his name. His breath hitched, peeking through the cracked door at the sight before him...

should I make a part 2? depends if this is a flop or not :]

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

... Okay, last Q&A post for now, I promise!

From the question thread regarding the brothers "favorites." Russ Carney also chimed in with his own answer!

[chaitantei-ao3]

9.

The door swings open, bells chiming and Mac shakes his head vigorously, as he backs away from Dennis jerkily, almost falling to the floor. “Hi! We’re-” A man wearing a red shirt giggles, “Last stop, Russ boy!”

“Last stop” Russ says looking to his side, “Where’s everyone?”

“I’m here!” The red shirt guy holds up his hand, tilting it to one side. “I can see that Javier.”

“’M drunk.” Javier says, his nose crinkling.

“Yeah, you are.” Russ says, raising one hand. “And I’m not nearly drunk enough.”

“Lol.” Javier says. “Come here.”

Dennis watches Mac’s eyes widen as he sees them embrace. 

“Have we been here forever?”

“Do you… mean ever?”

“Same diff.” Javier says.

“Hm.” Russ places his hands on Javier’s head. “Here. Or-” He spreads his arms wide, “Here.”

Javier laughs.

“G-gay!”

“Huh.” Javier turns to look at him. 

Dennis massages his forehead, “Ma-”

“Gay! Gay! GAY!” Mac points at them. “G-get out!” Mac screams. Javier shakes his head, dragging Russ behind. 

“W-wait!” Mac points at Russ’s neck.

“What the hell is that?”

“What?” Russ looks down at his chest where Mac is pointing.

“That tattoo.” Mac crosses himself, “Is that a rainbow coming out of the Holy Cross?! Oh. My. God. He will smite you, He is going to smite you all for living this sinful-”

“No.” Russ shakes his head, “God loves everyone, if you listen to His word-” Javier grabs Russ’s wrist, “Let’s just go. This looks like a shit place anyway.”

“Yeah? We don’t need the likes of you here.” Mac says.

Javier pulls Russ behind, glaring at Mac.

“You better read God’s Word yourself.” Mac says as they leave, “He is going to pass judgment on all-”

The door slams on his face.

Dennis sees a nerve tick in Mac’s forehead, he quickly takes big steps towards the door, shuts it and glances at the sign, nodding to himself.

“Okay.” Mac sighs, “What were we doing? Right-” Mac places his fist on his open palm, “What’re gonna do about the customer situation? We have to find people Dennis! We have to save Paddy’s!”

10.

Mac locks the door, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t worry Dennis. We’ll figure a way out. We always do…yeah.”

The sun is dipping down the horizon, spilling a purplish hue over brick, turning it grey. Above the signboard is collecting dust, the ‘P’ and ‘A’ in Paddy’s a darker green that Charlie painted over till he drank the rest. “Okay so Frank’s not interested. So what? We never thought he’d stay here for so long, right.”

For so long. Hell, Dennis thinks he never planned to stay here for so long.

Dennis opens the car door without looking back, his cheek throbs. Mac always forgot to lock the windows but who cares. They don’t have registers full of cash that might be stolen. So… who cares? This was never the plan anyway.

Read More

[colourme-feral]

Music tag my beloved!

I was tagged by @blmpff to put my repeat playlist on Spotify on shuffle and list the first 10 songs. Thank you!

Since I listen to multiple playlists every day, I just used my Liked Songs playlist. Some of these songs are what I liked listening to a little while back.

The list:

No pressure tags: @shou-jpeg, @aprilblossomgirl, @callipigio

[whattheshark]

i made REALEST shark playlist btw. link HERE :3 i will also list out the songs on it ^-^ will be updated when i add more songs

TRACK LISTING:

A World Of Madness - Akira Yamaoka

Sunny - Boney M.

Palmtree Panic "P" mix - Sega Sound Team

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out - The Smiths

Thingumybob - Paul McCartney & Black Dyke Mills Band

Save Theme [re1] - Capcom Sound Team

Metallic Madness "G" mix - Sega Sound Team

Barefoot in the Park - Shiro Sagisu

Easy Lovers - Piero Piccioni

Tidal Tempest "P" mix - Sega Sound Team

Null Moon - Akira Yamaoka

Sea, Swallow Me - Cocteau Twins

Fingerbib - Aphex Twin

Tidal Tempest "G" mix - Sega Sound Team

Symphony for a Spider Plant - Mort Garson

Summer's Day Song [Instrumental] - Paul McCartney

Hold On, Please! - Louie Zong

You Don't Have to Walk A Begonia - Mort Garson

Misato - Shiro Sagisu

Quartz Quadrant "P" mix - Sega Sound Team

Minty Fresh - Louie Zong

Lunch Box / Odd Sox - Wings

Up and Down - Judy Singh

Dry Hands - C418

The Orb Of Dreamers - The Daniel Pemberton TV Orchestra

Frozen Japanese - Paul McCartney

2010 Toyota Corolla - 2003 Toyota Corolla

Secret of the Forest - Yasunori Mitsuda

Subwoofer Lullaby - C418

Cuff Link - Wings

Infinite Realm of Incomprehensible Suffering - Clown Core

Front Parlour - Paul McCartney

An Old Smile - Macabre Plaza

Deep Swim - Windows 96

This Is My Beloved - Mort Garson

Cat - C418

Hot As Sun / Glasses - Paul McCartney

Bip Bop Link - Wings

Late afternoon drifting - The Caretaker

Love Psalm - Akira Yamaoka

カリンバ - Kikiyama

ひなたぼっこ - Kikiyama

Left Bank Two - The Noveltones

OH! TENGO SUERTE - Masayoshi Takanaka

Green Hill Zone - Sega Sound Team

Chirp - C418

Goodnight, My Beautiful - Russ Morgan

BANANA SHAKE [SPED UP] - HUS

Lovefool - The Cardigans

Honey Pie [Instrumental] - The Beatles

Victory Theme from Mario RPG - Yoko Shimomura

Roll Me In - Katamari Damacy Sound Team

Quartz Quadrant "G" mix - Sega Sound Team

FALLIN' LOVE, AND - Hirokazu Tanaka

Battle Against a Weird Opponent - Hirokazu Tanaka

Moon & Prince - Katamari Damacy Sound Team

LEASE - Takeshi Abo

Chris - C418

We don't have many days - The Caretaker

GLASS CHIME - INOYAMALAND

Wii Chess in the Park - Gabriel Gundacker

Walking on a Star! - Katamari Damacy Sound Team

[bllsbailey]

Trump Sues 'Legacy' Media Companies For Defamation: 'Publishing Blatant Lies'

Donald Trump arrives to a Q&A with Pastor Paula White at the National Faith Advisory Summit on October 28, 2024 in Powder Springs, Georgia.

President-elect Donald Trump has hit back by launching a barrage of lawsuits against publishers and media outlets that have defamed him by continuously “spreading lies,” with only two months until he returns to the White House.

Trump escalates his long-standing animosity toward the “bias, left-wing mainstream media,” which he referred to as “the enemy camp” in his victory speech last week.

According to the Columbia Journalism Review, Trump’s attorney, Edward Andrew Paltzik, wrote to Penguin Random House and the New York Times two days before the presidential election, requesting $10 billion in damages for publications that spouted blatant lies about Trump.

The letter was part of a string of other legal actions taken against other media outlets who have lied about Trump out of political warfare.

Some of these lies include the left-wing mainstream media’s ongoing claims that Trump was involved with or authored with the Heritage Foundation’s “Project 2025,” that he was convicted of rape in the E. Jean Carroll case, and that he would ban abortion in the U.S. if re-elected.

However, these “legacy” media outlets have typically not had to answer to their perpetuated lies.

Social media users chimed in and commented on the recent news.

“The DOJ opened up the door to defamation suits like this by going after Alex Jones and other people they claimed promoted misinformation. By claiming Trump was Hitler and promoting project 2025 has his when he didn’t have anything to do with it they open themselves up for these cases. With all these vidoes of people freaking out over these false narratives and people killing their families in fear of these false narratives. It is likely Trump is going to win these cases,” said X user @lanny_lutz

The New York Times is “a full-throated mouthpiece of the Democratic party” that engages in “industrial-scale libel against political opponents,” according to the lawyer letter that CJR reviewed. It also accused the writers of the articles, Peter Baker, Michael S. Schmidt, Susanne Craig, and Russ Buettner, of making “false and defamatory statements” about Trump.

The letter accused the New York Times of harboring “every intention of defaming and disparaging the world-renowned Trump brand that consumers have long associated with excellence, luxury, and success in entertainment, hospitality, and real estate, among many other industries, as well as falsely and maliciously defaming and disparaging him as a candidate for the highest office in the United States.”

An insider with knowledge of the situation also told CJR that the newspaper responded to the letter by referring Paltzik to Penguin Random House, referencing its charges related to Buettner and Craig’s book and stating that it supported their reporting.

Additionally, according to CJR, attorneys representing Chris LaCivita, the co-chief of Trump’s campaign, wrote to The Daily Beast on November 5th, requesting that the publication retract its “false” reports that LaCivita raised $22 million to support Trump’s reelection.

The Daily Beast later added an updated editor’s note in its articles in response to the letter.

“Based on a further review of FEC records, the correct total is $19.2m. The Beast regrets the error. The article has also been updated to make clear that payments were to LaCivita’s LLC not to LaCivita personally.” “This entire narrative is completely false and a result of malicious and irresponsible reporting by The Daily Beast,” the letter continued.

Stay informed! Receive breaking news blasts directly to your inbox for free. Subscribe here. https://www.oann.com/alerts

[zepskies]

Oooh I'm just gonna dive RIGHT in!!

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

Loll I'm loving how you're writing his internal monologue -- matches his quirky personality well. 😂

Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

Again, lmao great personality color, and so freakin' relatable!

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!” “I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans.

LOLL. That's so very Colter. 😂

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

Riiiiight. Not at all. lol

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

Ooooh more questions, more questionssss!

“We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.” Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

LMAO. Classified, indeed. 😏 Can I hope for one of your legendary flashbacks in the future??

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head. “It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

Get that nomenclature right, Colter. 😂 But omg I love the brotherly teasing -- Russ just HAD to bring up Reenie multiple times, didn't he? It's feeling very much The Misadventures of Russ and Colter, and I'm so here for it. 🤣

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

Of COURSE he's an apple pie fan. Love that little Deanism. 🥧

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Oooh do tell. 😏 But really, it's clear these two have a long history. (Also, not the "midlife crisis beard" 🤣)

But OMG they were married?!!! And why would she send the papers just to get his attention? Good Lord, so many questions...

A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

Ahh, makes sense. It tracks that Russ would be hard to pry open, even to someone he loves and has been in such close quarters with him for such a long time. (LOL Denver Airport. 👌🏽)

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.” “Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

Just layers and layers of history between these two. It's so sweet to think Russ had a surrogate dad that actually treated him like a normal kid, teaching him how to throw a football, etc.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

Oh my GODD. They have a son together too?? What the hell happened between them? She left and took their son with her?

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

My heart is truly breaking for him, and now I need to know what the hell he did to make her actually leave him, even though they have two kids. 😭😭

True to typical Wayne, this is an intricate cobweb of a story, Russell AND the reader are infinitely complex, and I'm very interested to see where you take this from here. 💜

The Exit Strategy – Part 2

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, minor injuries, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, a reunion, more secrets and revelations 😉

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Guess, the cat's outta the bag! Couldn't reveal too much about the reader beforehand without ruining the surprise now, could I? 🤓 Cozy up in your favorite chair with eggnog. Hope you have some lovely holidays, guys ❤️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

If Russell hated one thing in this world, it was playing The Waiting Game. The thought of being helplessly stuck inside a car with his hands metaphorically tied behind his back nearly wrecked his sanity. Well, whatever was left of it, anyways.

Colter had a point. Russell knew he could be a little paranoid sometimes, but considering everything he’d seen and done in his life, who could honestly blame him? It was only natural to feel a certain level of paranoia in his particular line of work. It kept him on his toes and, therefore, alive.

But maybe it had nothing to do with the job as he had always told himself. It might have been just a family trait he had inherited. And, well, he hated that fact even more than The Waiting Game.

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

What normal people would see as a perfectly nice, faithful woman picking up mail from the post office, Russell saw as a dead-drop pick-up.

There was a construction crew about three hundred yards to his right that seemed to be on constant break by their lack of work ethic. They also took turns to watch the supermarket closely. Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

And then, there was the cashier who handed you a flyer of some sort, which you accepted with a polite smile and stuffed in your purse. Live drop, Russell noted as he watched you walk out of the store hand in hand with your supposed husband.

It was all so abundantly clear to him, he almost couldn’t believe no one else could see it. It certainly worried him that Colter couldn’t.

What if…

What if he was in fact seeing things? Things that weren’t actually there. Ghosts of his past. No drops, live or dead. No secret surveillance in disguises. No fake husband – just a very real one.

Was that even legal? He figured it was under your new identity.

Russell shook the uncomfortable thought out of his mind and concentrated back on you. You stopped short by a row of shopping carts, exchanged a few words with your “husband”, and headed back inside. His little brother, of course, was hot on your tail, following you back in too.

That was when several alarm bells went off in Russell’s body. His head felt like the Liberty Bell on the Fourth of July. Experience told him: If it smelled like an ambush, it usually was.

Jumping into gear, Russell’s gaze snapped to your husband, who not only unloaded the groceries into the trunk of the car but also loaded a pistol and hid it underneath his sweater vest before heading toward the supermarket again.

Russell sprung into action rather quickly then, snatching his own semi-automatic from the glove compartment. Soon enough, he heard two familiar voices flowing out from a back alley behind the main building. There was no doubt in his mind that it was you and Colter.

As he rounded the corner, he had to stifle a laugh once he saw his little brother down on the ground, straddled by your legs. Russell had found himself in similar positions with you, but they had been mostly out of pleasure.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw.”

Russell watched as your hold on his brother swayed and shock claimed your expression.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he greeted your eyes with a cheeky smile as warmth spread through his heart.

Fuck, he had missed you.

“Russell?!”

Your jaw had fully dislodged itself as you slowly got back onto your feet and let go of your prisoner. But the shock of seeing your ex here of all places didn’t last long till it made way for your anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!”

“I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans. He stretched his sore muscles briefly before glaring at his older brother, who only offered him an apologetic smile and a half-assed shrug of one shoulder.

“Did you tell him to follow me?” you asked and pointed an accusatory finger at his younger brother while still glaring daggers at Russell. The similarity between them suddenly struck you, and you cursed yourself for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. “What was the plan here, huh?”

“Oh, trust me, he had no plan,” Colter muttered sourly, still recovering from your attack.

Russell clicked his tongue and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, he’s right. There wasn’t a plan. I just-… I had to see you. But once I did, well… here we are.”

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

You scoffed and shook your head. “You, of all people, should know better. You could’ve blown our cover. Months of work down the drain…”

“I think your cover’s still good,” Russell assured you with that same old lazy grin of his that was scarily charming and glanced at your partner. “Might wanna call off the cavalry, though.”

You shared a look with Tom, your partner during this mission.

“I’ll signal them. Clean up here,” he said, unamused, and disappeared back to the parking lot.

“Road crew in front of the store?” was all Russell asked. You confirmed it with a simple nod. Internally, he celebrated his little win. His instincts were still intact.

You exhaled a deep breath and threw your hands up. You had been so incredibly relaxed before that menace of a man waltzed back into your life – with a goddamn wrecking ball, no less. Now, the tension was crawling back into your shoulders.

“Russ, what the hell?”

Your question wasn’t filled with anger, however. You were just exhausted by today’s surprising turn of events. The life of a spy…

And probably the life with Russell, too.

“I know. I know, okay?” Russell held up two placating hands. Large hands. Warm. “Can we just talk? Somewhere… I don’t know.”

With some reservations, you still nodded. “There’s a church picnic at First Presbyterian tomorrow. It starts at one. We can talk there.”

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

“Church picnic?” Russell cocked a brow but was only met with your glare.

“Don’t mock. Be there,” you told him firmly and walked back inside the building. You still had to buy that damn milk. Covers were complicated to maintain – much like relationships.

Once you were out of sight, Russell let out a long sigh of relief, followed by a laugh of happiness. Step One was done. Only when the high of his meeting with you subsided, did he notice his brother’s exasperation.

Colter threw his hands in the air and stared at his sibling with incredulous eyes. “What the hell, Russell? What was that, man?”

“Right, yeah.” Russell bobbed his head calmly, smacking his lips. He knew he owed Colter an explanation at this stage of the mission.

“So, I’m guessing she’s not an old Army buddy of yours,” the younger Shaw started.

“No, not quite. She’s in the CIA,” Russell explained at last. He couldn’t help the grin. He was sure Colter would laugh about it eventually, too. Well, here was to hoping he would. “We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.”

Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

“Romantic,” Colter scoffed with sarcasm lacing his voice. Honestly, a part of him was happy for Russell. Another part, though, was incredibly furious for obvious reasons. “But I’m sorry – you had me stalk a CIA operative? During, what I assume is, some elaborate undercover mission?”

“It’s actually not that elaborate,” Russell quipped with amusement. “You shoulda seen half the things I’ve seen her do, so…”

“Oh, hilarious!” Colter shook his head at his childish brother. “Are you nuts?!”

“I think we’ve already established that,” Russell chuckled.

“You know, if Reenie finds out about this, she’s gonna kill me,” Colter said, and Russell swore his brother seemed close to breaking into a sweat. “Oh, you think this is still funny, huh? Guess who she’s gonna kill right after? You.”

Russell rolled his eyes at the unnecessary theatrics. “She’s not gonna find out unless you tell her, brother.”

With pursed lips, Colter nodded in defeat. “Can’t say I like you a lot right now, Russell.”

His older brother only snorted a laugh in response. “Oh, c’mon!”

“You probably would find it less funny if you had been beaten up by a 5’4” woman,” Colter continued and pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing. “Yeah, pretty sure she cracked a rib or two…”

“Don’t be a baby. Soldier up! You’re fine.” Russell patted his back roughly and inspected the swelling nose for good measure, causing Colter to groan in pain once more. “And by the way, pretty sure she’s only 5’3”.”

“What?! No! She’s at least… 5’4”, okay? Probably even 5’5”,” Colter argued, following Russell back to the truck.

Russell’s lips rose to a teasing smirk. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever gets you to sleep at night, little brother.”

“I will, thank you,” Colter deadpanned and unlocked the car. “So, you’re gonna go to this church picnic thing tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, not just me. We are going to this church picnic thing tomorrow,” Russell said with a cheeky grin and slid into the passenger seat.

“Well, you know, technically, I’ve already… found her. This is usually where my job ends,” Colter said with a tight smile and popped the key into the ignition.

“Yeah, well, not this time,” Russell replied, chuckling. “This ain’t a Colter mission. This is a Russell mission.”

“Oh, I got that, yeah. Thank you,” Colter said with a laugh that made his bruised ribs ache. “You know, you could’ve at least told me she was in the CIA.”

“Yeah, probably. But this was more fun,” Russell grinned.

“Did you know this whole time this was a clandestine operation?”

Russell sheepishly twitched his shoulders. “Well, not when we first got to town, but once I saw her in that outfit, I had a pretty strong inkling. I’m tellin’ ya, even if she had changed her entire life and personality, there’s no way she would have accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and savior. I mean, maybe if she suffered a traumatic brain injury…” Russell mused and then grinned. “Or if she got abducted by aliens!”

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head.

“It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

“Uh-huh… Did you even need me for this?” Colter leaned back against his seat and quirked an eyebrow.

“Hell yeah!” Russell assured eagerly before changing course. He dialed his enthusiasm back a little. “Well, honestly, I just needed your op analyst. I could’ve used one of my guys, but then that would’ve flagged it with someone upstairs, so… But c’mon! This was fun, right?”

“I don’t know, Russell. I usually prefer my fun to look a little different,” Colter deadpanned.

“With Reenie?” Russell wagged his eyebrows. The huge smirk on his face spoke volumes.

“Would you stop?!”

“‘Sides, this is nice, isn’t it? Us… hanging out?” Russell’s sly grin then morphed into a much softer and genuine smile.

“I guess, yeah,” Colter reluctantly agreed and shrugged his shoulders. But the tiny smile on his face wasn’t missed by Russell.

“Alright, let’s get some fuel,” Russell announced and playfully slapped his brother’s chest. “I’m starving. We also need to find a place where we can park that Airstream of yours. Maybe get a nice fire going, drink a few…”

“What is this? A sleepover? Did you just invite yourself?” Colter really wasn’t used to family members dropping in like this, but he couldn’t deny that it felt sort of nice, too.

“Yeah, I am. I mean, you didn’t offer. Would’ve been the polite thing, you know, considering I saved your ass last time,” Russell retorted puckishly.

Colter exhaled a humorous breath, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Alright, okay… Consider yourself invited.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Russell’s nerves leaped through the roof as he set foot onto the church grounds. A part of him expected his boot soles to leave burn marks in their wake on the perfectly green and trimmed lawn, considering his extensive list of sins.

Families, children, couples, and the elderly had all gathered in front of the church. There were picnic tables, blankets, even balloons and a banner. His green eyes, however, landed on the giant buffet, his mouth already beginning to water.

That’s also where he spotted you, handing out cupcakes and slices of pie with a pious smile on your face. Your hair was stuck behind your ears, a headband keeping it tightly in place. Your dress looked the same, only the flower pattern varied, with a tight cardigan around your shoulders that hid any naked skin.

Deceptively innocent, Russell thought, causing his mouth to water for a different reason.

“You okay? You nervous?” Colter checked with a curiously raised brow.

“Nervous? Me? No.” Russell gave a quick shake of his head, but his eyes were transfixed on you. “Gotta admit. That outfit’s doing something to me, though.”

Colter patted his shoulder blade. “Yeah, might wanna keep it in your pants, Russ. Pretty sure you get kicked out for impure thoughts.”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

The Shaw brothers then made their way over to your stand. Russell’s heart thumped louder with every new step he took towards you. And once he was so close he could smell your irresistible perfume, his smile only widened.

You, on the other hand, played your role flawlessly and pretended you didn’t know either brother in front of you. Your brows knit in question, but your devout smile remained the same.

“Gentlemen, how can I help you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” you said and subtly gestured your head to the pastor next to you.

Russell’s brow raised in understanding. He cleared his throat. “Oh, me and my brother just moved here. Looking for a new church. Heard this is the place,” he stated loud enough for the pastor to hear. “You know, we are very devout Christians. I mean, especially my brother here. If he doesn’t pray at least ten times a day, he gets real cranky.”

Colter threw him a look but decided to play along. “Oh, yeah, I just-… I hate that. Can’t pray enough, right?”

“Amen,” you said with all the sincerity you could muster. On the inside, however, you were bursting with laughter. Leave it to Russell to make you smile brighter than the sun.

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place,” the pastor chimed in with a cheerful smile that spelled kumbaya all the way through as he shook the brothers’ hands. “I’m Pastor Jeff. Welcome to our little congregation, folks.”

“God can never have enough sheep, am I right?” Russell quipped and wondered how long you’d already been undercover, playing your dutiful role as a Christian housewife. Five sentences in, and he already was at his limit.

“That’s right!” The pastor grinned broadly. “Please help yourselves to our delicious buffet.”

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

“Oh, you have to try the pie,” the pastor eagerly suggested and put an arm around your shoulders. “Our Nora here is an excellent baker. Her desserts are a real trend in our community. It is downright sinful. But shhhh, don’t tell the big man upstairs.”

“Secret’s safe with me, pastor,” Russell grinned slyly before meeting your eyes for the briefest second. “Say, do you do marriage counseling too?”

The glare you shot him had enough power to kill him from afar. You might as well have ordered a missile strike on him.

“Oh, my, yes, of course!” the pastor eagerly replied, causing your frown to deepen. “Are you married? Having a little trouble with the missus?”

“You could say that,” Russell earnestly played along and propped up his hands on his hips. “Everything was going fine, you know? And then one morning, just whoosh, gone. No explanation, no letter, no anonymous call from a pay phone…”

“Wow…” The pastor was stunned and enthralled by Russell’s colorful storytelling at the same time. You weren’t, however.

“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you feigned your sympathies with tight lips and a fierce glare at your former lover. “But you know what they say, the Lord giveth and he taketh away…”

“You know, Nora here is right. Our Lord does work in mysterious ways,” the pastor chimed in agreement.

“Amen, Pastor Jeff,” you said, smiling contentiously. “Do you have any idea why your wife left?”

“Oh, I’m afraid she’s as mysterious as the Lord,” Russell replied.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you forced a tight smile. “I don’t mean to overstep, but it sounds like someone was having a little trouble with commitment.”

“It does,” Pastor Jeff agreed. “Why do you think that is?”

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Russell’s head bobbed, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks. He was definitely feeling a spotlight on him. Even Colter seemed to curiously lean in. Then, the oldest Shaw clicked his tongue. “Rough childhood.”

Amused, Colter scoffed under his breath behind him. “You could say that.”

“Oh no.” The pastor sent the brothers a pitying look and turned his attention to the younger Shaw. “And what do you do?”

“Oh, uh… Well, before I moved in with my brother here, I lived in a trailer and traveled all over the country.”

“Sounds… lonely,” Pastor Jeff stated worriedly.

“Yeah, this one is a big lone wolf. He has commitment issues too,” Russell replied, earning him a scolding look from his brother.

“Uh, I don’t think we need to overshare, Russ.” Colter gave an awkward smile, turning to you and Pastor Jeff. “He’s kidding. I don’t have commitment issues.”

“It’s a sin to lie, Colter,” Russ noted. His tone was serious, but the twinkle in his green eyes was impish.

“What happened to your face there?” The pastor cocked his head and inspected the younger Shaw’s injuries.

Oof, he looked rough. The skin under his eyes and bridge of his nose were swollen and bruised, ranging in color from blue, purple to black. A thin burgundy line also graced his throat. You had done quite a number on him.

You should kick Russell’s ass for setting you both up like this. Who would do this to their little brother?

“Uh, you know, moving boxes…” Colter stammered with a shift of his weight from one foot to the other, pursing his lips.

Russell was a better liar than him, you noted.

“Yup, walked straight into one of those wood planks,” Russell added, oozing just the right amount of charm and humor to wrap the pastor around his finger. “Tiny thing, honestly, but still got him good.”

Oh, he was so proud of that too, you could tell. He smirked right at you. Well, they were both terrible liars.

“Not that tiny. Big, big plank,” Colter corrected. Apparently, you had bruised his ego, too. “Lucky to be alive, really.”

Yeah, he really was.

“Well, speaking of taking things away, I still have to get the eggs from the chickens,” you said, segueing the conversation to an exit strategy. “Excuse me.”

“Oh, you have chickens here?” Russell enthusiastically slapped Colter’s arm. “Did you hear that? They have chickens.”

“Yeah, uh, very exciting,” Colter said, subtly clearing his throat.

“We’ve always wanted chickens,” Russell clarified for the pastor, joining you by your side as you rounded the table. It wasn’t true, though. The brothers actually had a chicken coop at the cabin when they were kids and hated it. The hens were noisy, the rooster was the worst, and it was always a mess to clean up. “I love those clucking little buggers. And now that we have a big backyard… Mind if I come along and check out your setup?”

“Not at all,” you replied with a friendly smile.

“Great. Be right back,” Russell told his brother, hurrying after you before he eloquently made a U-turn back to the stand and grabbed a plate of pie.

“Take your time,” Colter said through a pressed smile, although he wondered how long he’d be stuck here for with the pastor and your fake husband.

“Clear,” you said and held the creaking wooden door of the coop open for Russell to follow inside. As soon as it fell shut behind you two, you crossed your arms. “Okay, talk.”

“What? Here? Now?” With squinted eyes and a cocked brow, Russell looked around the small and dark space full of farm fowl, hay, and feathers.

You threw your arms up in exasperation. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. What’s wrong with this place?”

“Nothing,” Russell said timidly and swallowed. He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, I just imagined this conversation a thousand times in my head, and it never happened in a chicken coop on church grounds.”

“Adorable,” you commented unamused, your brow knitting even more.

“All I’m sayin’ is, this just takes some time gettin’ used to…”

“Get used to it faster.”

Russell sighed. Then you did.

You softened your stance, crossed arms falling freely to your sides. “I’ve missed you,” you said earnestly and gifted him a small smile, taking in his changed appearance for the first time in detail.

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Now, clean-shaven, young, somewhat naive, and rule-following was replaced by a rebellious, midlife-crisis beard and the matching hair.

Ah, the t-shirt… Mötley Crüe. He found that thing eleven years ago at a thrift store in Arizona. It had a (bullet) hole on the left side of his lower back that you had patched – thrice. Once even with teething floss in a tent.

“How have you been?”

Russell’s head bobbed. He shrugged. “So-so.” Then he smiled. Soft and warm. The first few rays of sunshine on frozen winter skin. “I’ve missed you, too.” Then, the smile disappeared from his lips, replaced by contempt. “Got your divorce papers. Not signing them, by the way.”

“Good.” You smiled weakly. “I didn’t want you to sign them. I just sent them to get your attention.”

The relief that surged through Russell’s body was ineffable. For months, he thought he’d lost you – that you’d finally given up on him for good.

“How’s the new job working out?”

Russell’s lips drew a smirk, flirtatious charm glimmering in his forest green eyes. “What, you keeping tabs on me, sweetheart?”

You matched his expression. “Who do you think recommended you, huh?”

Russell stumped for a beat. His lips pursed, eyebrows drawing into a wondering v. “Well, they said someone did. Just didn’t think it was you.”

All this time, he’d believed you had crossed him out of your mind with a red pen as soon as you’d walked out the door that very morning.

“I told you. I’ll always look out for you,” you replied simply, a caring smile dancing on your lips. “So? Did it help? Are you any closer?”

“Yeah, guess so…” He paused for a moment, his gaze focused on the tips of his boots as he thought. “Not sure it was worth it, though. Actually, I’m fucking sure it wasn’t.”

You exhaled a long breath. You knew this day would come eventually. You knew he’d come back for you. Granted, you had expected him on your goddamn doorstep years ago, but he never showed. Sending divorce papers was a last resort in hopes he’d wake up then. That had been nine months ago.

“Why are you here, Russ?”

“Things have changed.”

Ah. That made things perfectly clear.

Lifting a brow, you crossed your arms again. “Is that why you brought your little brother along? As a show of good faith?”

“Kinda.”

“Poor Colter… How’s his nose?”

Russell wiped your sincere concerns away with a shrug. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just a scratch.”

Just a scratch…

“It’s weird… seeing you two together,” you said. For more than fifteen years, you had wondered. A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

That man could easily fill the Denver airport with his baggage.

“You look good,” you noted. You were trained to control your heartbeat, but he had always made your job harder. “Different.”

His fingers brushed his beard as if to emphasize the newness. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Well, uhm, I don’t hate it,” you said rather coyly. Did you want to give him a win? No. But if he stepped any closer, you would falter. Your cheeks blushed as the tip of your shoe drew circles in the sandy ground. Why did your ears suddenly feel so hot?

Russell smiled as heat crept to his cheeks as well. “Your new look is somethin’, too.”

“God, shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain here,” Russell teased. “Don’t let good Pastor Jeff hear ya.”

You laughed, scoffing. “I hate that man.”

“Pastor Jeff? I can tell,” Russell chuckled in amusement and finally stuffed his face with the first bite of pie, chewing a mouthful as he spoke. “But c’mon, he ain’t half bad.”

“Really? You don’t wanna shoot yourself after spending five minutes with him? ‘Cause I do. And it’s been months for me,” you said. “You don’t know what that man does in his office.”

“You bugged his office?”

“And the confession booth. Two words: game changer,” you said, wide-eyed. Russell whistled lowly. You narrowed your eyes at the half-eaten plate in his hands and the pie crumbs in his beard. You raised a scolding brow. “Did you really have to bring the pie?”

“Do you even know me at all? Of course I did.” Russell then shoved the last bite into his mouth to prove his petulant point. “Did you actually bake this?”

In expectant offense, you stepped back a little, crossing your arms again. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s good.”

“Do you even know me at all? What d’you think?”

“Thought so.” Russell gave a shrug of his shoulders. “The first bite of this didn’t give me immediate food poisoning.”

“Fuck you. I’m a great cook,” you huffed but couldn’t help the grin on your face. You had missed this – the bickering, the bantering, the fun. And Russell, the sly asshole, knew that, judging by his own smirk.

“There’s a lot of reasons why I love you, but your cooking skills ain’t one of ‘em, sweetheart,” he quipped.

“I’ll use you as shooting practice, Shaw,” you threatened playfully. Russell laughed, but it sounded more secretive than a laugh about a joke. “What?”

Russell’s eyes found yours. “Nothing. This is nice, right? We slid right back into it. Like the last three years never happened.”

“Russ…” You sighed, your heart hurting. For you, they happened.

“Just saying it was easy. That’s all,” he said with placating hands. “How’s the family? How’s your dad?”

That caused you to suck in a breath. You had wondered when he would finally dare to ask. You knew this was the real reason why he was here. “Dave finally married Jill last spring. It was a nice wedding. Florence, Italy. Got to wear a sun hat.”

“That’s good.” Russell smiled softly, although it stung that he wasn’t invited. He had always imagined he would be, once your brother popped the question to his longtime girlfriend. After all, Russell was the one who introduced the couple in the first place.

“They wanted to do it sooner, but because of the pandemic…”

“They shoulda done it ten years ago. I kept telling him to lock it down,” Russell quipped, the irony not entirely lost on him. He knew even if something was locked down, didn’t necessarily mean it would stay forever.

“You did,” you remembered with a fond smile. “They wanted you there,” you added, noticing his saddened expression. “It’s just-…”

“No, I know. Don’t worry about it,” Russell brushed it off with all the coolness he could muster at that moment.

“Russ…”

“I said it’s fine,” he repeated and forced another smile. “So, how’s the old man?”

Silently, you bit your lip and sent him a look that spoke volumes.

“Uh-oh. That bad, huh?”

“It’s the reason why I moved back here. To be closer… As close as I can be with this job. Figured it was best for everyone,” you explained. “In the beginning, he had a lot of good days, you know? Now they just all seem… bad.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” Russell replied, dumping his empty plate by the chickens. He stepped closer.

Uh-oh. Now, you were in trouble.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Russell’s brow jumped up. “What are you sorry for? It’s your dad.”

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.”

“Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

You snorted. “You could not,” you argued with a teasing smile. “You knew how to kill sweet little forest critters and turn your pee into drinking water. But you did not know how to throw a damn ball.”

“You’re never letting the pee thing go, are you?”

You shrugged. “It was a very memorable trip.”

Russell laughed at that. Then the melancholic sadness returned to his face. “How’s-, uhm, how’s Lewis?”

He’d made it through the list of your relatives, finishing with the most important one. And it stung so unbearably much it broke your heart for him. But in the end, you knew he’d done it to himself.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

“School, huh?” Russell huffed a devastating chuckle, the tears brimming in his eyes as the lump in his throat only grew. “Shit…”

It was getting to him, you could see, and he hadn’t expected that it would. Knowing Russell, he probably figured he could push through the pain and be fine. But he had never really been fine since the day you met him – and he wasn’t this time either as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the tears away, and turned his back to you with a hand clasped over his mouth.

“Should I stop?”

It felt like you were torturing him with a cruel new method of some PsyOp. Even if you had cursed this man for the past three years, your heart refused to see him hurt.

But Russell shook his head, finding your eyes again. He offered you a weak smile. “No, uh, don’t. Just tell me something about him, okay? I’m fine. Please.”

Sighing, you nodded in acceptance. “When my dad was better, he and Dave would take him fishing a lot. He loved it. He’s in his ‘backyard adventures’ phase,” you said, giggling softly. “He’s catching frogs and releasing them in the house. Never imagined I’d wake up with an amphibian on my head. It’s been a delightful experience.”

Russell laughed, but it was feeble at best. “I can imagine…”

And I can’t imagine I missed it all, he thought self-punishingly. But the hard part still hadn’t come yet.

“And, uhm…” Russell wrung for words, taking a deep breath. “How’s the baby? Is it–”

“She,” you stated, watching him swallow upon your correction. “Her name’s Amelia. She turned two in April.”

“Huh, girl…” His heart beat faster, grew bigger, and painfully yearned. His feet trembled to get home, wherever that was, and see them, but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t so easy, after all. “Guess I was right…” he said with a sad smile.

You had been sure you’d have another boy. However, Russell had bet you ten meatball subs – your craving at the time – that it wasn’t.

“What happened to Ann? Thought that’s the name we picked,” Russell teased in hopes of lightening the mood.

“Yeah, well, if you wanted a say, maybe you should’ve been there…” you retorted.

Russell should’ve known winning you over wouldn’t be as simple as spelling the ABC.

“You’re the one who left,” Russell muttered finger-pointing-ly under his breath.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why,” you bit glaringly.

Russell swallowed lightly, nodding. “You’re right. I do. I’m sorry.” Pausing, his eyes glanced around the coop before he gestured with a hand at your outfit, looking you up and down. “So, speaking of the kids, what’s going on here? Thought you were done with the deep-covers,” he changed the subject with a clear of his throat.

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

“I was. Had a desk job. Kinda…” A desk job in the CIA still never really was a desk job. “I was station chief in Paris.”

“Paris, huh? Fancy,” Russell said, but the joke didn’t reach the crinkles around his eyes.

“It’s the job I took after I left. We only moved back to the States in the beginning of the year,” you explained. “The kids loved it there, though. Lewis still gets a craving for crêpes every once in a while.”

Russell chuckled, even though every story added another bruise to his heart.

“Anyways, I got a job at Langley. Desk. Bought a house not too far from here, actually. It’s nice. Got a big backyard. Even bigger oak tree,” you told him with a smile. “Lewis wants me to build him a treehouse, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”

“I could help,” Russell offered, trying to keep his eagerness at bay when truly all he wanted was to race there and build the damn thing now. “I mean, if I can come by sometime…”

Your heart sank. “You can always come home. You always could, Russ.”

Home.

That four-letter word filled him with so much warmth and longing it brought back the tears in his eyes.

“So, uhm, why are you here and not there then?” This time, he switched the topic because he would’ve kissed you if he hadn’t. “You running a sting on the pastor or…?”

“One of his sheep.”

“Ah.” Russell nodded. “Need any help?”

“From you and Colter?”

“Yeah.”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, c’mon, just lemme help. The faster you get this done and over with, the sooner you can stop clutching your fake pearls and get home to the kids,” Russell reasoned.

You sighed, knowing he was partially right. You did hate your disguise as much as you hated the annoyingly nosy pastor. Moreover, you missed your children a fucking lot. It had already been three months. Fall was coming soon, and you had promised your son you’d be home by his first day of school.

“C’mon, how did they lure you back in, huh? Who’s the naughty little sheep you’re working?”

“Can’t talk about this here,” you told him, automatically lowering your voice. It was hard to remember who you were right now, when what you were used to be was standing right in front of you.

Russell quirked a brow. “Did you bug the coop, too?”

“No, the pastor’s scared of the chickens, which is why I didn’t bother. But you never know if someone else isn’t listening. We’ve already shared too much. We shouldn’t do this here,” you insisted, and Russell nodded in agreement. He knew the dangers as well as you did.

“Then where?”

You exhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment. You wanted to see him again. You knew he didn’t just come find you to catch up and then leave again.

“Come by the house tonight. Make it look natural. I’ll invite you guys to dinner as a sort of friendly welcome wagon to the neighborhood. The pastor is gonna buy it in a heartbeat. Just give me a good reason to invite you over.”

Russell nodded in understanding. “Alright.”

Part 3: This Is a Heart-To-Heart – SOON 💚

Welp, seems like Russell omitted having a wife and two kids... 🙈😂

I'll post the next part in the beginning of the new year or straight after Polaris has finished. We'll see ☺️

Enjoy the rest of your holidays, loves! Can't wait to read your comments on this one 😉🤍

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report

@deansimpalababy

[happysounds]

Russ Chimes - Never Look Back

[mdnghtstrt]

Russ Chimes - Targa 10 year re-release

[mymusicdealers]

Drift (Ft. Iris Gold) (Russ's Disco Reflex)