#thanks lauren for helping me find this!

[theetherealbloom]

YOU'RE THE RISK, I'M GONNA TAKE IT

Summary: You help your boss, Joel Miller, buy flowers for his date. Or so you thought.

Paring: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, Light Angst, Reader Dislikes Roses (i also dislike them :P), Kissing, Cheesy, Crush, Grumpy Single Dad, Office/Workplace Romance, Assistant!Reader, Billionaire!Joel, CEO!Joel, Boss!Joel, She Falls First and He Falls Harder Trope, Grumpy/Sunshine Trope, Idiots-In-Love, Confessions, PWP (wrap it up ya’ll), Fingering, Power Imbalance, Pet Names, ‘Good Girl’, ‘Darlin’,

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: SOOOO WE’VE ALL SEEN THAT PIC RIGHT???? FML, if I ever saw that man carrying flowers and gifting them to me, I would marry him right away. 

This is for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Writing Challenge for May! I was obviously inspired by the picture in the moodboard above and my love for Gracie Abram’s new song Risk! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you all for reading and supporting my deluluness tehe.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Main Masterlist

In the elegant floral shop, the scent of fresh blooms enveloped you as you stood beside your boss, Joel Miller, a man of many responsibilities and hidden depths. His piercing gaze fixed on a display of vibrant roses, seeking your opinion on a matter close to his heart - choosing the perfect flowers for a date.

Joel, a handsome billionaire with a company to run, a daughter to care for, and a brother to watch over, often sought your counsel on matters both personal and professional. Whether it was a crucial business decision or selecting a gift for Sarah's upcoming birthday, he valued your input more than he let on.

You studied the roses with a critical eye, your brows furrowing slightly as you considered the implications of his choice. "I think Lauren will love it," you finally offered, your voice tinged with a hint of reservation at the mention of Joel's recent romantic interest.

The name 'Lauren' left a bitter taste in your mouth, a woman who seemed more interested in Joel's wealth and status than in him as a person. You couldn't shake the feeling that she was using him for her own gain, and the thought of Joel falling for her facade made your stomach churn.

Joel's keen observation didn't miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Why are you makin' that face?" he questioned, his narrowed eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Your heart raced at being caught off guard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What face?" you attempted to deflect, but Joel saw through your facade with unnerving accuracy.

"The one you make when you don't like somethin'. You're scrunchin' your nose and everythin'," he pointed out, his gesture leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Caught in his perceptive gaze, you struggled to find the right words, knowing that you couldn't deceive him. There was an unspoken connection between you, a bond that transcended the boundaries of employer and assistant, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and unnerved by his proximity.

Joel's expectant gaze bore into you, his hand resting casually on his hip as he awaited your response, a subtle sign of his contemplation or frustration. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between you as you navigated the delicate dance of honesty and restraint in your shared space.

You settled for the truth, pinching your lips as if you were thinking how to phrase the next few words, eventually meeting his brown eyes and saying, "I don't like roses." The words hung in the air, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying.

Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Before he could respond, you cut him off, rambling on in a nervous attempt to clarify your thoughts. "I know, I know, it's just... my preference. It's not that I don't find them pretty... I do. It's just, sometimes it feels like there's no thought into getting someone roses."

You really should shut up, but you couldn't stop, your words tumbling out in a rush. "That's not to say you're not like putting in the effort to get Lauren... roses or something. It's just there's a whole language to flowers and their meaning, and there's definitely more options than just a whole bouquet of roses."

The silence that followed was oppressive, Joel's eyes roaming all over your figure as if taking in every detail. You felt like you were going to vomit, because there was no way you had just told your boss that he wasn't being thoughtful as he was getting the bitch flowers.

"What d'you like then?" Joel's deep voice asked, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You took a moment to formulate an answer, your heart racing with anticipation.

"Red Peonies," you swallowed, the words feeling like a revelation.

"Why?" Joel asked, his eyes never leaving yours, and you swear he took a small step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing.

"Besides it representing love, it also represents passion, honour and respect," you explained, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside. "There's just something more to it, I guess."

The air was tense, Joel's gaze burning into you like a brand. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the silence between you a palpable thing. You knew you should look away, but you couldn't, your gaze locked onto his as if drawn by an unseen force.

The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of raw emotion. You knew that you had crossed a line, but you couldn't help the way you felt. The truth was out, and now you just had to face the consequences.

The sharp chime of a phone shattered the charged silence between you, pulling you both back to the reality of the moment. You reluctantly pulled out your phone, a sigh escaping your lips as you delivered the news. "Your 3 p.m. meeting with Bill and Frank is coming up. We should buy those roses and go—"

But before you could finish, Joel interjected, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of reluctance. "We can come back for them later."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden change of heart. Quickly regaining your composure, you slipped back into your assistant mode. "I could have them delivered and—"

"Don't worry about it, darlin'," Joel cut you off, his deep Southern drawl sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's go to the damn meeting before Tess starts tellin' me off again."

Without another word, Joel strode towards the waiting car, the driver opening the door as you followed, slipping into the plush leather seat beside him. The tension in the air was palpable, the unspoken emotions between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the car pulled away from the curb, you found yourself acutely aware of Joel's presence, his warmth and the subtle scent of his cologne enveloping you. The silence stretched on, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the charged atmosphere that had settled over the two of you.

You stole a glance at Joel, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the armrest. You longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between you, but the weight of your professional relationship held you back.

The drive to the office was a blur, the familiar sights and sounds of the city passing by in a haze as your mind raced with a thousand unspoken thoughts. When the car finally pulled to a stop, you both exited in silence, the weight of the unresolved tension hanging heavy in the air.

As you made your way through the bustling lobby, Joel's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You couldn't help but wonder if the touch was intentional, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that simmered beneath the surface.

But as you turned to leave, Joel's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Darlin'," he murmured, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "We need to talk."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, unsure of what could possibly be running through Joel's mind. The intensity of his gaze only added to the butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and trepidation at what he might say.

"What is it, Joel?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

"I can't ignore this any longer," Joel began, his voice low and full of raw emotion. "I've been trying to fight it, but I can't deny how I feel about you any longer."

Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke those words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. Could it be possible that Joel felt the same way about you? Or was this all just some cruel joke?

"Joel..." You started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No, let me finish," he said firmly. "Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. And when we spent that night together at the charity event...I knew then that I had feelings for you."

You were speechless, unable to believe what was happening. You had harbored secret feelings for Joel for so long and never thought they would be reciprocated.

"I know there's the whole boss-assistant dynamic between us," Joel continued with a small self-deprecating smile. "But I can't let that hold me back from telling you how I feel."

A mix of emotions swirled inside you, and you couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, you wanted to give into the feelings that had been building between you and Joel for so long. But on the other hand, the thought of risking your professional relationship and possibly even your job was a daunting prospect.

"Joel, I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "I just needed to tell you how I feel."

Silence fell between you as you both stood there, lost in your own thoughts. You were torn between what your heart wanted and what your head was telling you was logical.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you gathered the courage to speak again. "Joel, I care about you too," you admitted quietly. "But there are so many complications..."

"I know," he said with a sad smile. "But we can figure it out together."

His words filled you with hope and warmth, but at the same time fear also crept in. You knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with Joel would be risky and could potentially cause problems at work.

Before either of you could say more, there was a knock on Joel's office door. Startled out of your reverie, you both turned to see Chelsea peeking her head inside.

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt," she said apologetically. "But, Mr. Miller, we have that meeting with McKenna about the upcoming merger in 10 minutes."

After Chelsea left, Joel turned back to you, a hopeful expression on his face. "Can I see you later? Outside of work, I mean."

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him outside of the office. You knew it was risky and could potentially cause problems, but the thrill of taking a chance with Joel was too enticing to resist.

"I'd like that...a lot," you replied, unable to stop a small smile from forming on your lips.

His face lit up at your response and he took a step closer towards you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked hesitantly.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Without any hesitation, Joel leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss at first, but quickly became more passionate as the chemistry between you two intensified. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to pull away. You gazed into each other's eyes, both panting slightly from the intensity of the moment.

"I should go," you said reluctantly.

Joel nodded and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you later then? I’ll meet you at your place.”

You smiled and nodded before heading out of his office. As you walked back to your own desk, your mind raced with thoughts of Joel and what this could all mean for your future.

Later that evening, as you heard a knock at your door, you couldn't help but feel excited and nervous. You had been thinking about Joel all day and now here he was, standing outside your door with a beautiful bouquet of peonies.

You quickly peeked through the door viewer, confirming that it was indeed Joel standing there. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi Sweetheart," he said with his perfect smile, his dimple making an appearance on the left corner of his cheek.

"Hey," you replied with a bashful smile. "Come in."

Joel stepped inside, holding out the vase of peonies towards you. "I brought these for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You took them from him and breathed in their sweet scent. "Oh, Joel, you remembered.”

"Anythin’ for you," Joel said with a small grin.

You couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you for remembering. They're beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged nonchalantly before turning to take off his shoes. "So what should we do tonight? I can cook us dinner or we could go out somewhere if you prefer."

The idea of Joel cooking for you sounded wonderful, but at the same time, going out together also seemed like an exciting adventure.

"How about we have dinner here tonight and then we can go out tomorrow?" You suggested.

"That sounds perfect," Joel agreed with a smile.

As he prepared dinner in your kitchen, the two of you chatted comfortably about work and other random topics. It felt easy to talk to Joel and be around him, like it was just natural for the two of you to be together.

After enjoying a delicious dinner cooked by Joel (who turned out to be quite the chef), the two of you sat on your couch watching a movie. As the movie played on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his eyes intense as they flicked between the screen and your face. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows that danced across his features.

Joel shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest, and found yourself caught in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The world around you faded away as Joel's mouth finally met yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

You melted into each other, lost in a haze of passion and desire. Clothes were shed in a frenzy of need, skin meeting skin in a symphony of sensation. Joel's touch was electric, sending sparks throughout your body and setting every nerve on fire.

As you lay intertwined on the couch, your breathing heavy and your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Joel's eyes searched yours intensely.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn't form words as he began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands explored every inch of your body, worshipping you with his touch.

"I want you," you finally managed to say, arching your back as he grazed his teeth along your collarbone.

With a growl, Joel lifted you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. 

He laid you down on the bed with a hunger in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip as if he was mapping out his favorite treasure. You moaned softly as his lips grazed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Joel's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, igniting a primal need within you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered his name like a prayer. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with a fierce intensity that made your head spin.

He teased and tormented you with his touch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath hitched as he plunged into you, filling you completely and setting your senses ablaze.

The rhythm between you grew frantic, fueled by a hunger that could not be satisfied. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body yearning for his touch, craving the sweet release that only he could bring.

He whispered filthy words into your ear, his voice gruff and raw with desire. "You want it," he growled, "You need it." His fingers gripped your hips, guiding you onto his shaft with deliberate precision. You groaned, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, your body begging for more.

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue dueling with yours, their movements synchronized with the wild rhythm of their bodies. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he explored every inch of your body with a possessive possessiveness.

You moaned, writhing against him, your body trembling with need, your heart pounding in sync with the frantic beat of his, as he plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks that would later serve as a reminder of this night.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he nuzzled your collarbone, then your chest, and finally your nipples, which hardened under the gentle caress of his tongue. You arched your back, your body craving for more, as his hands cupped your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that made you gasp.

As he continued to ravage your body, you could feel the heat building between your legs, a fiery ache that begged for relief. Your hips bucked against his, seeking that sweet release, the friction sending spears of pleasure through you. He groaned, his own arousal swelling, and he thrust harder, his hips meshing with yours.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your curves, leaving trails of electricity in their wake. You arched your back, your breasts thrusting forward, begging for his attention. He didn't disappoint, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh, while his other hand trailed down your side, slipping between your legs.

Your breath hitched as his fingers found their mark, teasing your swollen folds, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. Your body trembled, desperate for his touch, for him to drown you in sensation. He obliged, his fingers delving deeper, slick with your arousal. 

The roughness of his touch against your sensitive skin became a symphony of pleasure, as he slid in and out, his rhythm perfect, his fingers working in unison with the movements of his hips. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, c’mon darlin, be a good girl, give it to me,” He groaned, as he sensed your impending release and increased the speed of his fingers, sending you over the edge in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your back arched off the bed, your nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. He followed you over, spilling into you with a guttural moan.

You collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathless, but he wasn't done with you yet. He rolled you onto your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. You felt him smirk against your back before he slammed into you again, filling you up completely.

His pace was rougher now, more primal as he claimed your body as his own. You met each thrust eagerly, reveling in the raw passion that flowed between you.

He reached around to caress your clit, adding another layer of stimulation to the already mind-blowing experience. Your moans and cries filled the room as he drove you both to new heights of pleasure.

As you were both on the verge of climax once again, he flipped you over onto your back and plunged into you one final time. With one hand gripping your thigh and the other tangled in your hair, he pounded into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

When he finally let go and spilled inside of you for a second time, it was like a dam had burst within both of them. You clung to each other as waves of pleasure washed over you both until eventually subsiding.

You lay there tangled together in a sweaty mess, your limbs intertwined as you both fought to catch your breath. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the sheets clinging to your bodies in a sensual embrace. As the haze lifted from your minds and your heart rates slowly returned to normal, you looked up at him and smiled, your eyes shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

"That was incredible," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin, his gaze burning into you with a intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're incredible," he replied, his voice husky with desire, the words caressing your skin like a lover's touch.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The sheets were tangled around the two of you, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of being intertwined with him, your bodies still connected in an intimate embrace.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you that this was uncharted territory. You were jumping headfirst into the deep end, and the risk of drowning was ever-present. But as you gazed into his eyes, the warmth and affection you saw there quelled your fears, replacing them with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, your fingers tracing the contours of his face, as if to reassure yourself that this was real. "I never thought we'd end up here, but I'm so glad we did."

He chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a shiver of delight through you. "Darlin', you have no idea how long I've been waitin' for this," he confessed, his hand caressing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the passion that had just consumed them.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mix of joy, trepidation, and a deep, abiding love that threatened to overwhelm you. "I'm scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm also so excited to see where this takes us."

His expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss. "I'm here, darlin'," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll figure it out, together."

As you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter the challenges, you would face them side by side. The risk of drowning may have been ever-present, but with him by your side, you were ready to dive in, to explore the depths of this newfound love and see where it would take you.

[ashwhowrites]

Ohhh babes I saw you want angst and YES Miscommunication + secret dating TOTES SOUNDS 🔥 . So, Eddie n reader dating on the dl bc Eddie worried reader would get treated bad or bullied?? but he didn’t actually tell her that Just asked to keep it secret/quiet/whatev. So maybe Billy Steve or ??? knows Eddie is her friend and asks Eddie like whats she like, she dating anyone, I wanna take her out.

And Eddie straight panics and instead of oh she’s got a boyfriend at another school or some smart… he down talks her. she boring, annoying, she always [thing reader actually does alot!], dont bother. And course reader hears and is right devastated and thinks thats why the dl, cause he’s embarrassed/using her for sex/it’s all a big joke to him.

After end of day in private she breaks up with him, doesn’t say she overheard. Eddie has no idea what he did wrong, she avoids him, won’t talk. He’s broken. Finally he finds out she heard what he said and what she thinks. Could it end happy eventually? Like maybe he makes a loud speech like he does on the caff tables to show he’s never been embarrassed of her, yeah?

Hurt me with the angst babes. Xoxo

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

DL

Y/N wasn't the best at keeping secrets, everything she felt was said on her face. She never saw the point in secrets, which is why she felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world. Because here she was keeping her whole damn six month relationship a secret.

It wasn't that she wanted to. Her boyfriend begged her and she tried to understand. She loved being with Eddie and it hurt to be a secret. She wanted to be with him so she agreed to give him time.

She felt like six months was enough time. She was growing a little irradiated and bothered. Anytime they talked about it Eddie said he was ready. But it never seems to happen.

Eddie locked the van and the two began walking towards the small restaurant. Y/N walked close by, her hand inching to slide her hand in his. Upon contact, Eddie was fast to move his hand in his pocket. Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and added a bit of space between them.

"About time," Dustin groaned, welcoming the two to the table. Y/N sat across, moving over for Eddie to fit in the spot next to her. She wasn't surprised when he took the seat next to Dustin instead, but it still hurt.

"What's that?" Dustin asked, noticing a dark mark on Eddie's neck. Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she realized she left something behind from their makeout earlier. Dustin flicked the mark, making Eddie hiss.

Eddie quickly looked at Y/N, her smirk obvious. "Nothing."

"That's a hickey! Who are you getting nasty with?" Dustin teased

"Some random chick at the bar, drop it," Eddie hissed through his teeth. Y/N knew it was a lie, obviously, but hearing his lie made her stomach turn.

"Damn dude, massive hickey," Steve laughed as he joined the group, sliding into the open spot near Y/N. Eddie stiffened when Steve was shoulder-to-shoulder with her.

"Yeah apparently a chick at the bar," Dustin giggled, "Was it Lauren? She always looks at you after your shows."

Eddie gulped as Y/N's hard gaze landed on him. She'd been to see him play a few times, and she didn't know who this Lauren was.

"Lauren? Who's that, Eddie?" she asked, a fake smile plastered on her face

"I've never talked to her, so I don't know who she is. And it wasn't her so like I said, drop it," Eddie demanded. The table got awkward as Eddie fumed as he looked over the menu.

Y/N couldn't help but glare at him over the top of her menu. Maybe she wasn't the only secret girl in his life.

"Anyway, how is your day going?" Steve asked, Eddie looked up to see who the question was for. His blood boiling as Steve turned his body to face Y/N completely.

Dustin tried to talk to Eddie, but he was laser-focused on Steve flirting with his girlfriend.

~~~

Eddie didn't realize how big of a mistake it was to be a secret until he was hit with the reality of someone wanting her.

"DON'T RUN!" Steve yelled as the gang ran through the arcade. Eddie laughed as they ignored him, running without a care in the world.

Eddie went to walk away but Steve grabbed his arm. Eddie froze and looked down at his hand, making Steve retreat.

"Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something," Steve said. He nervously put his hands in his pockets. "You and Y/N are pretty close right?"

Eddie felt a hot rush of jealousy run through his body, just by hearing another man say her name. "Why?"

"Do you know if she's seeing anyone? The few times she's been around I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I want to ask her out," Steve explained. Eddie scoffed at the red blush that coated his cheeks. He was blushing over his girlfriend?

"Y/N, oh you don't want to ask her out!" Eddie scoffed, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Why?" Steve awkwardly laughed. Neither boy recognized Y/N walking up to them.

"She-she-uh- she's so clingy. I've heard from all of her ex-boyfriends that she's good in bed, but that's it. She's got a boring personality. She's a bit annoying, with all her "save the planet, don't do drugs, and cigarettes are poison". You look like an independent guy, Steve. Do you want a girl to nag and control you?" Eddie asked, planting a hard smack on the boy's shoulder. Steve hissed at the connection, rubbing the skin when Eddie removed his hand.

Y/N felt her throat burn as she took in Eddie's words. It all made sense now. He was embarrassed by her, hell he didn't even like her. He was interested in the sex, that's all she was good for. She swallowed her sobs and walked off. She didn't care to hear what Steve would say. She was falling in love with Eddie and he couldn't stand her.

Eddie smiled in victory as Steve walked off to a machine. With the sudden interest in Y/N, Eddie felt the need to see his girlfriend. He didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone, heading out to his van.

It didn't take long for him to arrive at her house. He parked his van down the street and snuck over to her window. He pulled himself up on her roof, thankful it was night so no one would be calling the cops.

He tapped on her window.

She sighed as she heard Eddie at her window. She wasn't ready to see him.

"Come on, baby. I wanna see you,"

She wiped off her face and walked to the window. She opened the curtain but didn't open the window.

"What the hell do you want?" She spat. Eddie flinched at the venom on her tongue.

"Woah, what the hell did I do?" Eddie asked.

"Are you going to tell people about us?" She asked, keeping her head held high.

"Baby," he sighed, she scoffed and shook her head. She already knows the speech.

"We're done, Munson. Now get the fuck off my roof," she hissed. She closed her curtains and raced to shut off her light.

Eddie stared at his reflection as he tried to process what happened. He rapidly knocked on her window but she never came back.

"Y/N!" He harshly whispered, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He continued to knock but left that night with no reply.

~

The next morning Eddie was already racing back to her house.

But again, got no reply.

~~~

It took around three days for the gang to notice Y/N wasn't around. They all wanted to ask but there was this look on Eddie's face that made them scared to ask. Dustin was worried for his friend. Eddie was always moody and snippy. But now he seemed so sad and in pain. Dark bags under his eyes and his voice always sounded dry and cracked.

Steve felt a little awkward about it. Feeling like he was the cause of whatever happened.

No one in the gang was close enough to her to ask her what happened. So everyone was stuck with not knowing what went down between the two.

Eddie's eyes followed her everywhere. It seemed no matter where she went, those brown puppy eyes were warning her skin. She knew she'd suffer with seeing him at school, but she didn't think he'd be so obvious that he suffered too. She was shocked to see he was affected but she convinced herself she didn't care.

Eddie was falling apart and he didn't care to hide it. He had one amazing thing in his life and he fucked it up.

Eddie let another week pass before he got desperate. He knew he was going to look insane, but he was done. The next time he saw her, in the halls at school, he quickly picked her up and locked them in a classroom.

"Are you insane!" She hissed, slapping him as he dropped her.

"It's time we talk,"

"I don't want to talk, Eddie. I told you we're done," she went to walk past him but he stepped in front of her.

"Can I explain myself? If you knew why I kept us a secret, it might help," he pleaded but she shoved him against the wall.

Her face was close to his as she stared him down. "I know exactly why you wanted to keep us a secret."

"You do?" He gulped. He was embarrassed that he got bullied as practically a young man.

"I heard everything you had to say to Steve. So no, knowing that my boyfriend doesn't even like me doesn't help at all! I'm glad I gave you a few good fucks, asshole. I'll make sure to give Steve the best head of his life so he can ignore all the flaws about me."

Eddie growled as Steve's name left her lips. He harshly grabbed the back of her neck and shoved his lips against hers. He was possessive and jealous, reminding her he was the best she'd ever had. She fought to not kiss him back but she was weak. She melted into him and lost herself in his lips.

"No one will ever have you like I do," he growled.

She shoved him away from her. "Well to the whole world, I'm open to take."

"I made all that shit up, okay? I didn't want Steve to go after you. I got jealous and instead of telling the truth, I choked. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean anything I said."

"If you didn't mean anything you said, then why am I still your secret?" she whimpered. She felt exhausted from the secrets, it was making their relationship harder than it needed to be. "I am so tired of being ignored by you. I feel used when we have sex and the very next day, I'm nothing to you. You don't want anyone to have me, yet it seems like you don't even want me." Eddie frowned as tears slipped down her face.

"Please don't cry, baby. I do want you, and I'll always want you. It's just that I'm a loser, baby. The town hates me, and I'm a held-back senior who still gets bullied by the jocks. It's embarrassing, I'm embarrassing. And I didn't want you to receive the treatment I get. You don't deserve to be treated like shit because you gave me a chance," he explained. She could see all the emotion in his eyes and she sensed all the truth he spoke. "I thought I was protecting you but I can see I did it all wrong."

"I don't care about anyone or what they think. All I've wanted was for us to be together," she whispered as she cupped his face, allowing him to press his body against hers.

"I'm sorry for everything. I love you so much and I want everyone to know. I don't want anyone to think they have a chance with you," he muttered, his lips inches away from hers.

"Then show them,"

He smirked and ran out the door. She wasn't sure where he was going to go, quickly following. He busted through the cafeteria doors and stood on a table with his dirty sneakers.

"Eddie!" Y/N hissed but he sent her a wink.

"ATTENTION PLEASE!" the room went quiet as they turned to look at Eddie. Some people whispering.

"IS ANYONE HERE INTERESTED IN THE LOVELY Y/N?"

She felt her skin burn as the attention turned to her. She begged Eddie to get done but this was what she asked for.

Eddie didn't wait for anyone to answer, "TOO BAD. SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND!"

"Can you get down here now?" she asked, Eddie stepped down and the cafeteria went back to talking among themselves.

"That work for you?" he asked, scooping her in his arms. She laughed and nodded. He gave her a quick peck on the lips before a teacher came over to discipline him for his commotion.

"See you after detention, m'lady," another wink sent her way.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[sunsburns]

naked in manhattan

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader / implied art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’re just hours away from a flight that will change your career forever—one that will take you to london, england, for the 2012 olympics, a milestone you never thought you’d reach. thrilled yet trembling with nerves, you find yourself at the hotel bar, celebrating alone. it does not help when you run into art donaldson and… his wife?

—or: you and tashi rekindle an old flame

word count: 6.9k

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, semi-public sex (a gym at the middle of the night so idk if that counts), mid-challengers movie (a year after the atlanta scene with tashi and patrick), angst with no comfort, fingering, homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, no use of y/n, old situationship best described in terms of “casual” by chappell roan (iykyk), art is lowkey a shit starter

author’s note: so i finished this a while back and added it to my queue and did not realize i put it for july instead of june so LOL MY BAD. this is kinda like a prequel to “good luck, babe!” but you don't need to read that to get this. alsoooo thank you for all the love and feedback in “good luck, babe!” i’ve read every single message and tried to reply to all of them! you guys are so sweet and inspired me to write more! thank you thank you <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

Manhattan, New York City, 2012

"I hope you're planning on getting laid tonight."

Your drink is cold, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as you swirl the straw absentmindedly. The dim lighting of the hotel bar casts a warm, golden glow over everything, making the polished wood of the bar counter gleam. Around you, the murmur of conversations, bursts of laughter, and the occasional clinking of glasses create a lively yet intimate ambiance. You glance at the TV mounted in the corner, where a muted sports channel displays highlights from a basketball game.

You try not to snort into your drink at the words of Patrick Zweig on the other end of the call. You push your phone closer to your ear, unable to bite back the grin spreading across your face.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"What?" Patrick's tone is mockingly innocent, full of playful mischief.

"I thought you called to say something a little more... I don't know, sincere? Heartwarming?"

He lets out a loud, boisterous laugh that you can practically feel through the phone. In the background, you hear the faint sounds of a city—honking cars, distant chatter, and the occasional bark of a dog. The noise fades slightly as Patrick likely moves to a quieter spot, and you can almost picture him getting in his car in some other state—you think he's in Arizona.

"The only kind of warming I wanna hear about is cockwarming," he retorts, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

You make a face, "You're disgusting."

"I mean it," he insists, still laughing. "I'm actually so jealous of you right now. You qualified for the Olympics, for fuck's sake! How's your mom doing? Did she have a heart attack? Did she call you already? I hope she packed you some condoms. There's gonna be such a wide variety. Literally every country in the world."

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick."

Your mother did call, her voice crackling with emotion over the phone just before Patrick rang you. She told you how proud she is of you, how she can't wait to watch you play and tell everyone she knows that her daughter is an Olympic tennis player. A gold medalist, maybe.

Her words echo in your mind, filling you with a warmth that battles the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

You take a sip of your drink, savouring the blend of fruity and bitter flavours, a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts. You try not to spill it on your Ralph Lauren sweater, custom-made, just for the Olympics, with your name stitched on the arm.

Around you, the hotel bar is alive with the buzz of other athletes celebrating with their teams. The fellowship is appreciable as laughter and cheers fill the air. But for some single athletes, like yourself, it's a different story. You feel as if you're in high school all over again, too awkward to make friends, hoping someone braver than you will come by and say hello first.

"You better not be sitting at the bar alone, drinking that orange juice you like."

"A sangria isn't just juice, you dick," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"You're such a loser."

You do feel a little bit like a loser, sitting alone at the bar, but you know you shouldn't. You're hours away from your flight to London where you'll have the chance to play tennis in the Olympics. This is all you've ever wanted since you were a child, all you've been working for—sweat, blood, and tears. You can't even remember a time when you've dreamt of something other than this.

Tennis has always been your escape, your sanctuary. You remember those early days when you played with second-hand rackets and makeshift nets, the local court becoming your second home.

And then there was Patrick, your closest… friend(?) and fiercest rival. His encouragement, his competition, and his company kept you grounded and motivated. When the going got tough, the dream felt too distant, and all of it made you feel far too guilty as if you had stolen someone else's life, Patrick was there to reassure you that you deserved it just as much as the next. Without him, you likely would have walked away from the sport you love.

"I can't believe you made it to the Olympics before me," Patrick's voice pulls you back to the present, a mix of envy and pride lacing his words. You can almost see the playful smirk on his face, a familiar expression that often surfaced during your countless matches together.

"I wish you were here, Pat." Your voice softens, the longing evident. It was hard to track down Patrick Zweig, especially while he was constantly on the move, hopping from state to state, playing as many challengers as he could sign up for, each match a stepping stone toward his dream of winning the US Open. And you think he will. You've played against him enough times to know he's better than you at hitting a ball with a racket.

There were nights when you'd both crash in a shabby motel or back at your place after a gruelling day on the court, strategizing and critiquing each other's play styles (sometimes in more than just tennis). His tenacity was a beacon for you, pushing you to strive harder and to reach further.

His voice softens, becoming more earnest. "Yeah, me too. I'll try to get tickets for one of your games in London. If not, I'll catch up with your mom and watch it with her. Is your dad still in the picture?"

You roll your eyes, a reflex to his familiar teasing. "Oh, my god."

"I'm just asking," he chuckles. "Listen, I'm gonna let you go, 'cause I've got a date tonight. But call me when you land."

"Oh, yeah, okay." You try not to let the disappointment seep into your voice, but it's hard. It's not like you and Patrick were together, at least not publicly, at least not in the sense that you couldn't see other people. But even as you tell yourself that, a knot tightens in your chest.

It feels a bit teenageish, you think, messing around with friends and acting like it means nothing just to avoid making things awkward. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were leaving something unsaid, something unacknowledged. Patrick was one of the few people in your life who kept you on your toes and made you feel good—truly good.

Now, the idea of him with someone else, going on dates while you chase your dreams, feels like a betrayal you can't quite articulate. But what right do you have to feel that way? You never made things official, never dared to cross that line.

You never bothered to search for love outside of tennis.

"Have fun on your date," you manage to say. It comes out more brittle than you'd hoped. "Talk to you later."

"Bye!" he says, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart. His voice is light and carefree, and why wouldn't it be?

You end the call and set your phone down on the bar with a bit more force than intended, the hollow thud echoing your frustration. The bartender glances your way and you try to flash him an honest smile before ordering another drink. The TV overhead flickers, switching from basketball highlights to a recap of the latest tennis matches. You watch the screen without really seeing it.

The bar is still lively, yet you feel an overwhelming sense of solitude. You can't help but feel like you're stuck in limbo—caught between your dreams and the reality of your personal life.

You take a deep breath and a long sip of the rest of your first drink, the cool liquid doing little to ease the heat of frustration building inside you. You tell yourself you should be happy, grateful even. But right now, all you can think about is Patrick, and how much easier it would be if he were here with you.

But he's not. And maybe he never will be.

Maybe no one will.

Maybe you will die alone, your tennis racket as your only companion.

"This seat taken?" A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts.

You turn, startled, "No-" you start, but then the blur of blonde hair comes to focus and you're stumbling over your words, "Art? What- what are you doing here?"

"Oh," he smiles, a shy faint red blush already growing on his pale skin. He sits beside you, almost hesitantly, "Just stopping by the city. I saw you and thought I'd say hi."

"Hi." You return his smile, albeit a bit warily.

It's been years since you last spoke to Art properly, though your paths have crossed a few times. You've seen him in magazines, TV, and brief passings usually at major tournaments—Wimbledon, the Australian Open, the US Open. Each time, there were shy smiles and waves from across the room, lingering eyes, and awkward conversations where mutual friends tried to reintroduce you as if you hadn't once known each other

Art looks different every time you see him. His hair, now a little shorter than you remember, still maintains that boyish shagginess. There's a darker tan on his skin, evidence of his time spent under the sun. Some days he has a brighter smile, other days, it's a smile that never reaches his eyes.

As he sits there, you can't help but think of how golden his hair used to look whenever he wore his old Stanford hat, the one he used to pull low over his eyes during your college days. The memory makes you aware that you're staring, maybe a little too long. But he's looking at you too, his blue eyes trailing from one end of your face to the other, as if trying to memorize it all, capturing a photograph of who you are now.

A warmth spreads through you under his gaze, and when he finally looks away, you turn too, tapping at your empty glass, pretending to seem interested in the way the ice has started to melt.

But your eyes betray you, slowly trailing back to him. You watch the way he sits, the way he calls over the bartender and orders himself a glass of water. You try not to notice the deep timbre his voice has gained over the years, and how it resonates in the noisy bar. He looks at you, then the empty seat on your other side, and finally scans the room anxiously, as if he's searching for someone or something.

"He's not here," you finally say, breaking the silence that has grown too heavy. "If that's what you're wondering."

He nods, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. "What city is he in now?"

"Vegas, I think."

He makes a face and rests his chin on his hand. "There's no challengers in Vegas this month."

"Then he's just visiting. I don't know." The truth is, you don't want to talk about Patrick right now. Especially not with Art. Not after the way they ended things. You watch Art shrug, and the bartender sets your drink in front of you. You take a grateful sip, savouring the blend of flavours. Art holds his glass carefully, and the two of you sit in strained silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

You can't help but ask, "What are you doing here? In Manhattan?"

"I have an interview tomorrow. For the New York Times," Art says, leaning back slightly. He seems a little surprised as if he expected you to sit there without acknowledging him for the whole night. It makes you wonder what he thinks of you. "They're doing a piece on my career, the highs, the lows... the beginning and stuff."

You study his face, trying to gauge his emotions. You know what it's like to be interviewed, to have a team of people making you look your best for photos and another team crafting answers to help you maintain your reputation. It’s exhausting and thrilling all at once. "Congrats, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. If anything, I should be congratulating you. Olympics? That's huge..." He continues talking, his lips moving, but you’re barely registering the words. For the first time that night, he seems genuinely enthusiastic, a faint spark in his eyes as he talks about you, about London, gesturing with his hand in excitement.

That's when you notice it. The gold around his finger. It glimmers under the warm lights of the bar, catching your eye like a beacon. You can't stop staring at it even after he's done talking.

"Oh, yeah. It's great." The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth. You struggle to find the right response, not wanting to be rude. "You're married?"

His face falls, and he looks down at his hand resting on his lap. "Oh, yeah, yeah. We, uh..." He scratches the back of his head, his eyes darting up to meet yours briefly before looking away. He seems nervous, like he's bracing for your reaction, worried to tell you, as if you weren’t supposed to know at all. "We got married last year. We kept pushing the date for a while because we were... we were busy... and stuff just kept getting in the way."

"We...?"

"Tashi."

"Tashi," you echo, the name tasting foreign and bitter on your tongue. "You're married? You married each other?"

He nods, "Yeah, we've been engaged for a few years now. You haven't heard?"

You feel a lump form in your throat. "No, uh. My coach tries to keep me away from certain news... my mom suggested it. So I don't get uh, distracted."

This is exactly the kind of situation your team has been trying to avoid.

The reality of his words sinks in, and you feel a sharp pang of something—loss, regret, maybe even jealousy. The air around you feels thicker and harder to breathe. Each word he says feels like another brick being laid on your chest, pressing down, making it harder to stay composed.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You force a smile, but it's a fragile thing, threatening to shatter at any moment. "That's... that's great, Art. I'm happy for you. Really. How was... how was the wedding?" Your mind races with thoughts of broken promises and missed opportunities. You imagine Tashi in her wedding dress; you know she looked beautiful. The image stabs at you, and you wince.

"It was beautiful. Both our families came in, and we kept it traditional, in a church. It was..." He pauses, watching you before adding, "It was a small ceremony. Private. Just family."

His words twist the knife deeper. Tashi's family used to see you as such. "No, yeah, I get it. Wouldn't want any trouble at the wedding. I'm happy for you. I'm happy for the both of you." You turn to the bartender, desperate to keep your voice steady. "Hey, can I get another drink? Something stronger?"

Patrick was right; your stupid orange juice won't get you through the night.

Art watches you with concern, his brow furrowing. "How many of those have you had?"

You laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your ears. "Not enough."

"Does your coach know you're drinking?"

"Does yours know you're talking to me?"

Art leans back, his posture stiffening. He turns to his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass as he takes another sip. The silence that follows is thick and uncomfortable. You watch as he processes your words, his expression shifting from defensiveness to something more pained. You instantly feel a pang of guilt, realizing you've struck a nerve.

You've heard all about Tashi's coaching with Art. Whispers in the locker rooms during tournaments, hushed conversations about how she's pushing him until he cracks. You never wanted to believe it, never wanted to think that Tashi, of all people, would be the one to break him down.

"She calls you Ace, you know."

You make a face at the name. A journalist had written an article about you a few years ago when you won your first US Open, nicknaming you Ace since your serves were almost impossible to hit. The nickname stuck, plastered across headlines, magazine covers, and merchandise. People even bet on you becoming the youngest tennis player with the most aces in history before the season ended. You were only off by a dozen.

"Does she?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, unaffected.

"You do have a killer serve."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Killer." The word feels bitter on your tongue. "Tashi used to hit those back at me like it was nothing."

Art nods, taking another sip of his drink before pausing to look at you. "Only 'cause she knows you."

"Knew," you correct him.

The silence stretches again, heavier this time. You're about to say something, anything to break it, when Art speaks again, his voice softer, more earnest.

"I miss you."

What. The. Fuck.

"I do," he insists, leaning forward, his eyes searching yours. "I miss hanging out with you. I miss playing with you. Watching your games live and not recorded on my TV."

"Art, c'mon." You feel the dread crawling up your throat, wishing you had left the bar sooner. Every word he says seems to pull you deeper into a past you've been trying to escape. Art has done nothing but throw you off your game all night.

"I miss you outside of tennis, too," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I miss our late-night walks, studying in the library. You remember those?"

"Of course I do."

"Tashi misses you, too," he says, and you can tell he's crossing a line, testing your patience. You can feel the corner of your mouth twitch, your eyes unable to meet his. "She tells me every night. She's always keeping up with your stats, watching all of your games, rewatching your old ones. She makes notes for you, how you could improve. She wants to coach you."

"Art, stop it," you finally snap, turning to face him. The night feels ruined, any semblance of peace shattered. Was this all some elaborate scheme against you? After all these years, is this how they repay you? Out of spite? Is that what it is, a way to get back at you because you somehow got it all, and Tashi's taking whatever she can scrape off from Art?

"I don't want her to coach me. And I highly doubt she wants to coach me either."

"I booked the hotel," he says suddenly, his voice softer, more sincere. "She doesn't know you're here. And I really think it will be good for you two to talk." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper, placing it carefully on the bar in front of you. "Here's our room number. I'll be out tonight with some friends, so the room is yours till late. Just, don't kill each other or break anything if you fight."

"I'm not going—"

"She really does miss you," he interrupts, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you might understand, might relent.

You stare at the piece of paper, feeling its presence like a burning brand. Art stands up, hesitating for a moment as if he wants to say more but thinks better of it. "I mean it. Think about it," he murmurs before turning and walking away, his footsteps echoing in the hollow space of your mind.

You watch him go, each step he takes pulling at the threads of your carefully constructed facade. As he nears the entrance, your eyes follow him instinctively, and that's when you see her. Tashi. She's standing there, with her bags looking around with a familiar intensity, her eyes scanning the room until they lock onto yours.

You feel sick.

Meeting Art was a pleasant surprise; he makes your heart race and your cheeks burn. But Tashi makes your heart stop and your brain shut off.

She looks different—older, more mature, hair straight and cut to a mid-length but also a lighter colour—but still heartbreakingly familiar. Her eyes widen slightly as she recognizes you.

She opens her mouth as if to say something when Art stands next to her, pressing a kiss to her temple, but no words come out.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

The weight of her gaze is too much. You're the first to look away. You stand up abruptly, nearly knocking over your drink in the process. "Excuse me," you mutter to the bartender, slapping a couple of bucks on the counter. Your voice feels distant, and detached, as if it belongs to someone else.

You push through the crowd, your mind a chaotic whirl of emotions. You need air. You need space.

As you reach the elevator, you can feel Tashi's eyes still on you. But you keep moving, your footsteps quickening with each step. You need to focus on tennis. That's the only thing that's never let you down.

Tashi had once picked tennis over you, and now it was your turn to do the same.

You reach your room and close the door behind you, leaning against it as you finally let out the breath you've been holding. The walls seem to close in on you, and you slide down to the floor.

You need to remember why you're here. For the game. For the dream. And that has to be enough.

Only one problem.

You can't sleep.

Hours later, you find yourself in the hotel gym, the quiet hum of the machines the only sound in the stillness of the night. Your mind is racing, a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions you can't control. Desperate for an outlet, you hop on a treadmill and start running, hoping to exhaust yourself into some semblance of peace.

Anything is better than sitting in the hotel lobby, scouring the internet on the public computer for any proof of Art and Tashi's marriage while drinking wine straight from the bottle.

Art was right, it was a small wedding. There were almost no photos of it caught by the paparazzi, only articles upon articles talking about it, magazine covers and everything. God, how could you have missed this? How out of the loop were you?

There was only one photo posted, and it was from Tashi's Facebook and Instagram from less than a year ago; a picture of just her hand holding onto Art's, where you can see her wedding ring. There was no caption. But the photo had millions of likes.

You wonder if Patrick knew. He probably did. He stalks her account religiously and only recently started to tone it down. And then there's you, who had her blocked on everything since your last argument.

The music playing in your ears drowns out the world around you, a heavy beat pulsing as you hum along. Your eyes fixate on the rising numbers on the treadmill screen, sometimes glancing out the window at the city skyline, other times catching your silhouette in the glass reflection.

Sweat makes your clothes cling to you like a second skin, rolling down your spine in rivulets. You're still a little tipsy from your drinks, the taste lingering in your cheeks, but you think you're sober enough that a few more miles will drain it all out.

Art's words are burned into your mind. The wedding you were never invited to, how he suddenly wants to be friends again. You can see where he's coming from; tennis is lonely. You're lonely. You press the button to go faster, your legs burning as you push yourself harder, trying to escape the thoughts that chase you.

You don't hear the door click open, and it takes a few seconds for you to spot the reflection of someone walking behind you in the window's reflection, rolling out a pink yoga mat. But they don't step onto it, they don't move, and even worse, you catch their eye in the reflection.

Fuck.

It's Tashi Duncan.

Your heart lurches in your chest. You quickly look away, panic setting in. You turn your music up higher and make the treadmill run faster, the machine whirring louder in response. Your pulse races, not just from the exertion, but from the presence of the one person you can't bear to face right now.

In the corner of your eye, you see her approach you. When you hear her call out your name between songs, you pretend you can't hear her. You pretend to be captivated by the sight of the city at night, pretend that you're lost in the music as P!nk's voice blares into your ears, cursing out one of her old lovers.

You wonder how long you can keep the act up.

Tashi moves with a determination that you've always admired and feared. She walks around your treadmill, eyes locked onto you with a fierce intensity. Without hesitation, she reaches down and unplugs the machine from the wall, forcing it to power down abruptly.

Not long enough.

"What the fuck?" You huff, yanking out your earbuds. "What's your fucking problem?"

"You're my problem," she says, her voice steady, unyielding as she rolls her eyes.

"I haven't said a word to you."

"And that's my problem. I'm talking to you," Her gaze bores into yours, refusing to be ignored. You can see the resolve in her eyes, the same decisiveness that made her a force to be reckoned with on the court.

"I'm busy," you snap, and your breath comes in ragged gasps, both from the exertion and the emotional storm raging inside you. You feel trapped, cornered by the very person you’ve been trying to avoid.

You bite your tongue, stepping off the treadmill and walking around her when she steps in front of you. You make a straight line for your bag, watching her from the mirrors as she follows you closely.

"Can you listen?" It's more of a demand than an ask, "I just... Art told me what he did. He's a little shit, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You have other shit to worry about."

You're taking long chugs from your water, staring at her without saying a word. Part of it is because you have nothing to say to her, and another is because you're afraid that if you speak, she'll see through you.

Tashi's eyes roam over you, lingering on your shorts and the way the wires from your earbuds snake from your iPod, under your tank, and peek out from under your sports bra. Her gaze is both appraising and filled with something unresolved between you. When you don't respond, she sighs. "You look great, by the way. On the court. You've changed your approach. You're vicious."

The compliment stings more than it soothes. You still don't say anything, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.

"...Or maybe you've always been. I haven't seen you in a long time. So a lot could've changed, I don't know."

You lower your bottle, swallowing the water. It feels cold as it runs down your throat, a stark contrast to the heat of your rising anger. You can't help the way your eyes drop to her hand when you pull your hair down from its ponytail. The sight of the ring on her finger feels like a punch to the gut.

She notices.

"We didn't want you to find out this way."

Your eyes snap up to hers. "And how was I supposed to find out?"

Tashi looks taken aback for a moment, her confident façade faltering. She takes a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "I don't know. Maybe we should've told you. Should've invited you. But I thought... I thought it would be easier for you if you didn't know. I didn't want to hurt you more than I already had."

Your laugh is bitter, devoid of any real amusement. "Easier?

"Look," Tashi begins, her voice tinged with a hint of impatience, "I'm not a fan of the way I ended things. But I think that keeping a grudge for this long is embarrassing. We were teenagers."

"You're right," you concede with a bitter chuckle, "it is embarrassing. But you know what's even more embarrassing?" Your voice rises, fueled by a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Having your husband come to me and tell me how much he misses me. And how you miss me. But you don't have the guts to tell me that yourself, do you? Do you miss me, Tashi?"

"Of course I miss you," she scoffs, her tone defensive. "You were my best friend. My serving partner. We played and won doubles together."

"Is that all I was to you?"

"Was there supposed to be anything more?"

There it is, the moment you've been dreading, the confrontation you've been avoiding. You can feel the familiar ache in your chest, "You know I fucking loved you, Tashi," you admit. "And yeah, whatever, everyone loved you. No one could get enough of Tashi Duncan. But you know damn well I loved you for more than just that."

"Loved?" She steps closer, her eyes searching yours. "You don't love me anymore?"

"No," you tell her. "I don't. I dropped out of your groupie a while ago."

"What do you love, then?" Her voice is almost a whisper, the distance between you closing.

"I love tennis," you confess, your gaze never leaving hers. "I love winning. Turns out I'm great at both. And I love that too. And people love me. That's more than you could ever give me. Or Art."

"Even Patrick?" The mention of his name is a sharp jab; she's trying to get under your skin.

"I don't know, you tell me." You're taunting her. And you love the way she falters for a split second. "You saw him at the Open last year, didn't you?"

The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you. "Listen," she says, her voice dropping lower, "I just came here to tie some loose ends. For Art's sake. He says It'll be good for me."

"Okay," you reply, seizing the opportunity to turn the conversation in your favour. Hook, line and sinker. "Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?"

Hook.

Tashi's eyes narrow slightly, but she takes the bait, her expression shifting to one of determination. "You raise your arm too high when you serve. You're gonna dislocate your shoulder one day."

"I bet you're waiting for the day I do."

"I can make you the best."

"Am I not already?"

Line.

"You're one of the best at most. But not the best. I'd be surprised if you bring back bronze. You're too short-tempered for silver. Let me coach you. I'll make sure you bring back gold."

"I don't need you," you say, the words catching in your throat.

"We both know you do," she whispers, her breath warm against your lips.

And sinker.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. The words hang in the air, a silent challenge. You can feel the heat radiating from her, the closeness almost unbearable.

Without another thought, your lips crash together in a desperate kiss, a release of all the pent-up tension and longing that has simmered between you for far too long.

It's a whirlwind of heat and passion, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume everything in its path. Her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your body pressed against hers with a fierce urgency.

The kiss deepens a symphony of desire and desperation, all the words you couldn't say pouring into it with a fervour that borders on reckless abandon. You can feel yourself start to become absorbed into the bubble that is Tashi Duncan, it sucks you in, and it scares you, makes you feel as if you're sinking into the bottom of the ocean.

She grips the back of your neck, hard enough that her nails dig into the skin. Tashi waits for your gasp, and when you do, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, past your teeth until it collides with your own.

You're moaning, groaning into her mouth with the way she shoves you until your back hits the mirror behind you. You're arching into her at the way she fucking smiles against your lips at your reaction.

It's pathetic. You're pathetic. Almost in the same way Art is. You know it. She knows it. But in your defence, it's been a while since you've been kissed, it's been a while since someone's touched you this way, with heat and flavour. You're a little dizzy from it, cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

Tashi sucks your tongue into her mouth and you buck your hips against the thigh she's pressed between your legs.

There's a sweetness that lingers when she bites your lip, you wonder if she's wearing lipgloss, maybe chapstick. You hope she can't tell you've been drinking, that talking to Art made you spiral, that you've been bluffing since the moment she walked into the gym. Since the night she packed her things and told you she was leaving Stanford, her scholarship has no use since she can't play anymore.

When her hands run down your neck to your waist, gliding over the sweat on your skin, you can feel the cold touch of her wedding ring. It's frigid, making you shiver when Tashi starts to lick up the column of your throat. You almost feel bad about how wet you've become.

"Tashi..." you huff, her hands found their way to the base of your ass, guiding you to rock faster against her, only making you whine. Her grasp is tight, wanting. She pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your crotch closer to hers and then pushing you back down on her leg. She repeats the motion a few times, rolling her own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto her.

Tashi rewards you with a quiet moan—oh, you want her to do that again, you're going to make her do that again, louder and louder—and then, with a touch so light you could cry, she traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

You can feel your stomach nearly drop, "You're married, Tashi."

She pulls away just to laugh at you. One finger traces your slit through your shorts, and you hear yourself moan. She raises her brows, a challenging look in her eyes, "Are you jealous?"

You try to scoff, but the cold glass of the mirror behind you squeaks when you shift. Even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once.

"What would Art say?" You try to say, your hair falling over your face as you try to collect some kind of morality. If you were caught, you can already imagine the headlines and the stories people would write about you. "What would he do if he found us right now?"

"I don't know," Tashi hums, leaning closer. She pretends to think as if the answer isn't obvious, teasing you a little when she gets close enough to kiss you but doesn't. "He'd probably ask to join."

You can't stop the way that thought alone makes you melt. You remember the jokes Patrick used to make back when you were in college, of you and Tashi being his wet dreams. You can almost imagine, how he would moan at everything, want everything, his whiney moans too similar to the ones he makes when he's on the court.

Tashi rubs gently at your pussy a few more times like she's exploring you, and then suddenly she taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and she sighs against your mouth. "You're so wet. You like it when I touch you?"

"Yeah, please... touch me." You nod. And in your head, you're telling yourself you only like it because you haven't been with anyone since Patrick left for his tour.

Tashi kisses you again, and it's a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath her shirt she starts to fumble with your waistband, and you're both angry and resentful and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet.

Her fingers are clumsily slipping into your underwear and then she's there, her fingers are brushing right against your clit—you're so wet that her fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time she reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Tashi leaves you gasping and she teases you for it. "So sensitive," she taunts against your lips, pressing her thumb against your clit so she can see you squirm, pumping her fingers at an urgent pace to hear you moan. "So needy."

With each movement, she scissors her fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and she starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? I am, aren't I? I'm exactly what you need. C'mon say you want me. Tell me you need me, Ace."

"Maybe—" You're breathless, and the nickname has you tugging at her hair again, "Shit, I saw the way you made Art. He... oh god... he wouldn't be half the athlete without you. I also... I also wouldn't want to ruin my shoulder... while—while serving."

"I'm not talking about tennis."

For a moment, you worry that you've fallen for a trap, that you've said too much. You're vulnerable, a little drunk on lust and wine, and Tashi isn't stupid to not catch your sapphic crush on her since the two of you became friends, an old high school love that's never really disappeared, from slumber party kisses and how you've gawked at her, at her husband and even her ex-boyfriend.

"C'mon, Tash, you're always talking about tennis."

"Not this time."

You barely catch onto what she says. Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that she's given up on pumping her fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach—"I think I'm close... oh, I don't—fuck—keep touching me like that."

She bites your neck until you say her name. You pull her hair until she moans. Her touch is blistering against your skin. She says your name in a breathy drawl like she's pleading with you, humouring you, wanting to take everything from you.

"Keep going, please, please don't stop," you all but shout, and Tashi continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of her hand means the heel of her palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into her hand—you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you.

Every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Tashi whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming—

Distantly, you can feel her fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting—and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto her lap—but other than that, all you know is the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once. A hot sting against your skin that reminds you of the sun whenever you're on the tennis court, deep into the game you've turned into the love of your life.

It can't have possibly been this long since the last time you've gotten laid, right?

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Tashi is heaving for breath against your shoulder and her fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. "You're so pretty, you know that? No tennis talk."

You lean your head back against the mirror, a slow grin forming on your lips, "You don't think I'm pretty when I play."

"I think you're hot when you play."

You peek a glance at Tashi, meeting her eyes as she watches you, watching the way you catch your breath, skin shining against the fluorescent lights of the gym, similar to how you shine on the court. Yeah, you're a sight for sore fucking eyes.

Tashi takes slow, taunting steps back and away from you, and then she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes, you can see the most fucked-out look on her face just at the taste of your cum.

She licks her fingers clean—you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight—before opening her eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "I'll be in my room," she rolls up her pink mat (which she never used) and picks up her bag, "I'm sure you know the number. I'm hoping you can return the favour and touch me or something. You know, before you leave in the morning."

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[decentwritings]

Chapter 4

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

previous part <- -> next part

Danny paces back and force, hands over his head as he waits for any sign of anyone coming out of the building. Sam watches from a distance, being checked by the paramedics for any sign of injury.

The sun is rising, a glow in the sky that should signal hope but instead it reminds all of them the start of a new day, with the same problems from the night before. It feels like hours until he spots an officer coming out, alone. His blood goes cold, his heart thumping faster against his chest with every second that ticks by without a single sight of you.

"We got one!" Another officer shouts as he makes his way out of the building. He's helping you walk, with a lot of struggle. "They're refusing help." he shouts with a grunt.

Danny rushes over to take over for the officer. When he grabs ahold of you, he feels a huge weight lifted off him. He hears your refusals to get help but ignores you, dragging you to the free paramedics.

"I'm fine," you slur, waving your uninjured hand dismissively. The paramedic puts a cuff around your arm and you look at her, fascination and recognition on your face. "Ahh, Lauren! How have you been?" you ask, fighting the force behind your eyes.

The paramedic, Lauren, glances at your cousin as she takes a listen to your heart. "Let's worry about you, Y/N, okay?" she says, then begins to take your blood pressure.

You nod silently, looking over at Danny. "Is everyone okay?" you ask, concern filling your tired eyes. You grimace when Lauren grabs your injured hand.

Danny's eyes are threatening to spill tears but he chuckles, despite himself. "Everyone's fine," he shakes his head, unable to believe how hurt you are but worrying about others. "Alive, thanks to you."

You try to wave your hand, dismissing the compliment.

Lauren begins to wrap your hand after cleaning the wound. You grimace again, clenching your jaw at the pain.

"How do you know each other?" Danny asks when silence envelopes them.

Lauren waits for you to answer but you remain silent, watching her do her work. "We cross paths at work," she answers, and you hum in agreement. "They annoy the crap out of me and other paramedics when they aren't actually working."

"She flirts with me, all the time," you add.

"I do not," Lauren deadpans, giving your cousin a knowing glance. He nods in understanding, he knows how you are.

A second later, a short figure appears beside Danny. You think you're dreaming, but no, it's Tara. She's watching Lauren clean the cut on your abdomen carefully, and sees the way you grit your teeth to prevent yourself from displaying pain.

Once Lauren is done, she covers the cut with a large bandage. She grabs a computer and starts to type away. "You lost some blood, so I'd like to take you to the hospital," she tells you, though she looks at Danny since she knows you're incapable of absorbing anything right now.

Danny nods but you intervene.

"I'm good," you respond, blinking slowly. You shake your head, hoping it rids the drowsiness. It doesn't.

"Y/N, you need to go to the hospital," Lauren urges, staring at you sympathetically.

You shake your head again, more forcefully this time. "I don't need a hospital. I just need some juice and I'll be good," your voice wavers slightly, betraying the weakness you're trying so hard to conceal. You smack your lips. "I could really go for a Long Island Sweet Tea."

Lauren exchanges a glance with Danny.

In the distance, you spot Ethan making his way towards the scene. The pain in your abdomen and hand cease as you stand and stalk over to boy.

Danny and Tara exchange glances before they follow after you.

"Hey!" You shout after him, walking with a slight stumble. Ethan's face contorts into one of confusion before his eyes widen. You manage to push him against a car, jaw tight as you glare at him intensely. "You piece of shit, you tried to kill me!"

Danny rushes over as you slam the boy again, trying to get something more of a reaction. Blood begins to seep through the bandage on your hand, but you don't care much for it. His hand hovers over your shoulder, hesitating, because he knows you have every right to suspect Ethan but you are not in the right state of mind.

"Y/N, calm down," Danny urges, voice strained with worry. He knows adrenaline has kicked in, but the consequences when it goes away is what he's worried about.

Sam joins when she sees her sister reaching for you. "Hey," your eyes glance at Tara but your hold on the boy remains firm. "This isn't the time, you're hurt."

Ethan looks between all of them, even travels over to Chad standing a few feet behind. By the look on his face, he's sure he would have pulled the same stunt had you not done it first.

For a moment, you falter. The pain that was dulled by your rage creeps back in, gnawing at your abdomen and hand. You sway slightly, your strength ebbing away with each passing second. But just before you release him, you tighten your grip on his shirt and push him against the car once again, harsher than before.

Ethan grunts, holding the back of his head. You take a step back, slow and deliberate, eyes narrowed at him. The pain lingers, but you don't let it show even as Tara tugs you over, away from Ethan.

Chad nearly shoves you aside, pushing Ethan back into the same position. "They make a good point," the boy grunts under Chad stronger, tighter grip, "where were you? You were the only one gone and then my sister nearly dies!"

Ethan winces as Chad's grip tightens on his collar, eyes darting nervously between everyone around him. "I had Econ, you know this!" His voice cracks, but there's something off about the way he says it, like he's scrambling to pull together a story that no one is buying. He glances at all the eyes watching him, he feels caught. "I was in a lecture hall with a hundred other people, ask any of them!" he throws out.

Then, a gurney passes by with a white sheet covering a body.

Ethan's eyes widen. "Oh my god, who–"

"Quinn," Chad shoves him one more time, enlarging the bump on the back of his head. He clenches his jaw, finding some self control to walk away from the boy. Instead, he returns to his sister's side, helping her girlfriend console her.

Ethan attempts to go over to them, but Mindy sends him a glare. "Back the fuck up," she shouts, startling the paramedic caring for her. "You're at the top of my list."

Anika grabs her girlfriend's hand, wanting to calm her down.

"I had Econ!" Ethan shouts again, looking around all their faces.

Your eyes connect with his and for a moment he lets his shy and dorky act drop. A dark look crosses his face and you try to stand from where Tara shoved you down to sit, but she grips your arm to keep you in place.

Bailey is by the entrance of the building, still in disbelief of his daughter's death. Sam gestures to her sister, silently telling her to join her.

"Stay here, don't move," Tara orders you, eyes hard as you stare back at her with a blank expression. She rolls her eyes then walks off to join her sister, looking at Danny to warn him.

Danny nods and hurries to join you before you can make any moves. You hold your injured hand close to your chest, frowning as you look over at your cousin.

"You're not invincible," Danny tells you, shaking his head solemnly. He sighs. "I'm sorry I brought you into this. Especially with everything you've been going through. This is last thing you needed."

Your gaze travels to Tara, unable to put into words the feeling you get when you look at her. You force yourself to look away, looking to your cousin with a head shake. "I needed this," you tell him, aware of his confusion at your words. "I ran away when my dad was dying, avoided seeing him at every cost. I think about what I could have done differently, to help him...to save him."

Danny sees the distant look in your eyes, the gears turning in your head as you go over possibilities. "You're not a miracle worker, Y/N," he says, her tone soft to be sure he doesn't mean it differently. "Your dad knew you, and he knew if you could, you would have been there."

You catch sight of Gale in the corner of your eye, and you see her join the sisters and Detective Bailey.

"Yeah, well," you start, getting to your feet with less struggle than before. Danny still has his hands up, ready in case you need his help. "I can be there now, so I will be."

"Sam..." Danny starts, almost upset by what he's going to say. "They don't trust anyone. I told her to not even trust me."

Your neck snaps to look at him, glaring, because the thought of anyone distrusting your cousin angers you. "You can be trusted, Danny," you state firmly, but he shakes his head in answer. "You've saved them. You went out to search for them, knowing there was a psycho out there willing to kill you if you get in his way–you're the only one they should trust." you insist.

Tires screech as car comes to a rough stop, interrupting your conversation with your cousin. Kirby exits the car and sends you a small smile, nodding once, before she joins the group.

"Y/N," Danny sighs, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "It's not about what I've done. It's about what they've been through. Trust is earned, but trauma makes people question everything—even the ones closest to them. You can't take it personally."

You shift, the weight of his words sinking in, though they don't fully quell your frustration. "You're her boyfriend, and you have been put through un-boyfriend like things. You could have walked away–we could have walked away way before we got anymore involved, but we stayed." Danny's lack of response makes you continue. "Practically makes us family. I mean, blood was drawn." you gesture to your injured hand.

Danny shrugs, solemn, and looks down at the ground to avoid your eyes. "Sometimes, family is the hardest to trust."

The words feel like a slap to the face. You know he didn't mean any hurt but it still hit you hard. His words ring true, your mother's harsh words at your father's funeral echoing in your mind. She was emotional, you constantly remind yourself, and she's doing everything to make up for saying those words. Constant checkins, the random texts of expression of her love for you, and the sharing of old photos of when you were younger or an old family photo.

Still, your heart falls and tears form in your eyes. The feeling to crawl into your bed and hide away surfaces, but you force yourself to push it away because that is what got you into this mess. Into the emotional mess that you are in.

"Look," Danny says, breaking the silence between you. "I know you want to jump in, help, fix everything—but you need to take care of yourself first. You've been through hell tonight."

You shake your head, gaze now locked on the group. "I've been through worse," you mutter, though even you aren't convinced by your words.

Just before you can make another move, the sisters move away from the group and walk over to you two. You share a look with Danny just before they step in front of you.

"Gale has something to show us," Sam crosses her arms, appearing upset of having to inform you both.

"We think you guys should stay," Tara says, glancing at her sister. Sam nods in agreement, but remains quiet.

You scoff, opening your mouth to argue but Danny grips your shoulder, keeping you quiet.

"Just be safe," Danny says but his eyes remain on Sam. The older Carpenter nods, then taps her sister's arm before she walks away.

Tara sends one last smile at you before she turns. You glance at Danny, and he's walking away, probably struggling to go; wanting to go with Sam.

You hurry after Tara. "Hey, wait," you grab her hand, and that's when you see it. The scar on her hand, probably similar to the one you may have once your hand heals. She feels your stare, snatching her hand out of your grip.

"Sorry," you apologize, genuinely and try to avoid showing any pity. You hate when people give you the pity look, so you assume everyone else does too. You clear your throat. "Um, I just...I know I have no place to worry, but be careful."

Tara's eyes soften at your words, though her guard remains up. She looks down at her hand, flexing it slightly before meeting your gaze. "You don't have to worry about me," she says quietly, her voice measured but not unkind. "I can handle myself."

You nod, understanding her need to assert her strength, concern still remains within you. "Trust me, I know," you say, remembering the punch she hit Gale with. "But I just wanted to say it," you shrug.

Tara looks at you, and you feel like she's staring right at your soul. For a minute, you wish this was just a normal day and you bumped into her, so you can ask her out to get to know her. But no, this isn't a normal day.

You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly nervous under her gaze. It makes sense now, what that feeling was earlier when you looked at her. Though, now you're even more upset, because you know you'll never be able to act on these feelings.

Tara bites her lip and takes small steps back, giving you a reassuring nod.

You watch her join her sister, unable to take your eyes off her as she walks away. There's a gnawing feeling and it feels terrible, but you shove it down. You force your feet to move, turning to leave with your cousin.

Danny invites you to stay at a hotel with him, but you tell him you need to check on your sister's dogs. Plus, you were in need of some puppy time after this awful event. He nods, doesn't like that you're going alone, but doesn't say it or show it.

"Besides, Remy's a pitbull and Blackie's a German Shepard," you add, shrugging as you continue your walk down the street. "Alex did a good job on training them. They're guard dogs," you mention your brother-in-law, knowing Danny knew of his determination to have those dogs well trained.

"Fine," Danny relents with a sigh, "but if anything suspicious occurs–I'm talking a trash can falls over, anything, call me. Got it?"

You salute him. With your bleeding hand. He frowns but doesn't hold you back, allowing you to walk away.

\\\\

After a long shower, you collapse on the guest bedroom's comforter. Lauren gave you extra bandages for your wounds since you denied the ride to the hospital again. She also threatened your life if you died and got her fired for it. So with that threat in mind, you did a decent job on trying to imitate the job she did earlier.

You grab a pillow and hug it tight against your chest. Soon, Remy and Blackie join you on the bed, practically shoving you off it.

"I'm regretting this decision," you mutter, patting Remy gently. He gets the hint and moves over a little. You readjust yourself, shutting your eyes and allow slumber to engulf you.

You hear Blackie's growl, awaking you from your sleep. You lift your head, looking around the room for anything. It's pitch dark and you aren't sure when you closed the blinds. Or if you even closed them.

Were they closed when you got here?

Remy stands on the bed, appearing defensive and you sit up cautiously. You look between the two dogs, noticing their defensive stance.

You stand, ordering them to stay as you do. They whine at your order and your suspicions are confirmed when they do. They want to defend you from the danger they feel coming, so you hurry out the room and close it behind you.

Any harm happens to those dogs and you're positive a wrath you're sure you have somewhere in you will be released.

You wander over to your brother-in-law's office, finding his autographed baseball bat hung on the wall. You snatch it off its display and stare at it.

You debate whether to use it as a weapon or not. You shrug dismissively.

"I'll get him another one," you mumble, resting the bat on your shoulder as you prepare your search of the house.

As you peek over each wall as you wander down the house's halls, you hear your phone ring in the kitchen. You had left it there charging, not wanting to search your sister's room for an extra charger.

Making your way to your phone, you're still vigilante, guard still up.

The ringing doesn't stop, not even after ten rings. You huff, unaware phones could ring for that long.

Taking your phone off the charger, you finally answer the phone. And wait.

"Hello, Y/N."

You roll your eyes, already tired of this conversation.

"Sup, Ethan," you greet in return and smirk at the silence. "So, what exactly goes on during these calls? Do we share secrets?"

Silence continues and you check to make sure he didn't hang up.

"Well, I got one," you continue after seeing the call remained connected. "I never really liked you. Yeah. Since the moment Anika introduced me to the group, you were just...I don't know, I just didn't like you," you shrug.

There's a pause on the other end of the phone, and you hear a shuffle then creak over the line. "This isn't a game, Y/N," he finally speaks, and you keep your eyes wandering around to avoid him surprising you. "I'll give you one chance...stay out of this and you won't get hurt; anymore."

You hear his words, you do. But all you can think about is, "I hear you, I really do..., but I also didn't hear you deny that you're Ethan." You stupidly laugh, angering the killer even more. "Yeah, I'm not staying out of this. You almost killed me!" You shout, anger resurfacing at the memory.

"Ten seconds," he says and you roll your eyes, exiting the kitchen, entering the living room. "Run, while you still can."

"What makes you think I'd run?" You scoff, tapping the end of the bat against your foot.

Pause. Another creak sounds.

"Because you run from people who need help," his words echo in your mind and you freeze in place, jaw tightening. You hear a sinister laugh, and it sends a chill down your spine. "Time's up."

Bless your sister and her need for a random mirror in her living room. You swiftly avoid the knife after catching sight of him through the mirror. You turn and swing the bat, dropping your phone on the ground.

GhostFace grabs the bat and rips it from your grip, snapping it in half.

"Hey!" You shout, irritated now.

He tilts his head, and you think you see amusement behind the mask. You take a few tentative steps back, creating some distance.

You see him begin to lunge, but you hold your hands up and shout, "Wait!"

He actually listens, freezing his arm in the air.

"Can we move this outside? My sister will kill me if I make a mess in her house," you say and he unfreezes, attempting to slash at you. You grab his wrist, holding it in place. "Fine! But I'm sending you the bill for everything you break." You snarl before shoving back.

Ghostface stumbles back, surprised at your sudden burst of strength. He tilts his head again, almost considering your words. There's a brief pause before he lets out a low, distorted chuckle. "You don't know when to quit, do you?" he hisses, his grip tightening on the knife.

The voice sounds weirder in person, you think.

You take another step back, keeping your eyes locked on his every move. "I've been told I'm stubborn," you shrug, focusing on his movements. You try to calculate his next move. "Is there usually this much talking during a fight in horror movies?"

He lunges again, ignoring your question, but this time you're ready. You sidestep him, shoving him toward the bookshelf. The shelves wobble, and a few books topple over, but you don't give him a chance to recover. You hear something shatter and you gasp.

"That was my sister's wedding portrait!"

Ghostface lets out a frustrated growl, clearly not expecting you to keep up the banter. He's quick, though, recovering faster than you'd hoped. You barely manage to duck when he swings the knife at you again.

"You talk too much," he snarls between slashes.

You dodge each slash, confusion crossing your face. "You were a lot faster last time," you comment, grabbing his wrist and knocking the knife out of his hand.

Mindy's words return to your memory. She used the term, "killers." Plural.

You're distracted and he uses it to his advantage, lunging at you, toppling you both over. You both crash into the front door, knocking it off its hinges. You manage to lift your arms to blow each of his blows, and you realize these punches are much lighter than the one you felt in Sam's apartment.

"Oh, so not Ethan," you murmur as you succumb some extra strength, kicking this GhostFace off you. You scramble back, feeling the deck under your hands. When you stand, you find the door on the floor. "Come on, man!" You exclaim, gesturing to the broken door.

GhostFace tilts their head, and slowly lifts the knife up to your eyesight. You raise your fists up, getting into an offensive stance. They dangle it in the air for a moment, as if taunting you.

You drop your fists, annoyed, your patience wearing thin. "Can we...please," you make a come here motion, and they take it as permission.

GhostFace charges at you, knife raised. You decide to take them head on, wanting to get close again. You don't why you haven't ripped the mask off yet.

You grab their arm just as the blade nears your neck, and, because you're focused on getting the mask off, you don't see their other hand raising. Your jaw aches and you get light headed for a moment. They get another hit, knocking you down, onto the grass.

It doesn't help you at all, and you take hits to the face twice before you see the glimmering blade of their knife. You stare at it and huff, this is what I get for being cocky, you think.

Then, you see a flash of blue and red. You think you're hallucinating for a second but when you tilt your head back to look, you see it. A chuckle escapes your lips.

"Ha, the cavalry has arrived!" You shout, then grunt when you feel a punch to your face again. You shake your head and lift your head to look around, but GhostFace disappeared. "How do they do that?" You let your head fall back, tired.

There's a plethora of shouts. One from the police, either saying to freeze or announcing their arrival. Then, you hear your name being shouted soon after.

From two different people. There's an outstretched hand in front of you moments later. Your cousin stands before you and you smile, chuckling at the irony that, once again, he's there to pick you up.

You grab his hand, using him as a crutch when you stumble slightly. He makes sure you're well enough before letting you go.

Tara's next to him, eyes filled with worry. You're beginning to hate yourself for making her worry so much. Sam isn't that far behind, and you offer them both a small, but reassuring, smile.

You look back at your sister's house and drop your head with a sigh. "My sister is gonna kill me," you mumble.

Danny pats your back carefully. "Let's get you checked out," he walks close to you as you make your way over to the paramedics.

The flashing reds and blues calms you a little, given that GhostFace appears scared of it. You settle on bumper of the ambulance, allowing the paramedic clean the cuts on your face.

Tara, Sam and Danny all silently watch as you get cared for, almost like they can't believe you made it out alive. It hits you then, along with the sting of your cuts being cleaned, you're alive.

You didn't run. Even when given the option to run.

"I didn't run," you say aloud, and it had a weird taste in your mouth. You notice them all give you looks of confusion. "I didn't run," you repeat to them.

Danny smiles, an actual smile that isn't one to reassure you. But a proud and happy smile.

You look between Tara and Sam, expression contorting into one of determination. "Whatever plan you guys have, I want in," you say, thanking the paramedic when she's done. You stand, more steady than before. "Once you're in, you're in, right?"

Tara and Sam share a look, small smiles on their lips. They look back at you, nodding.

"Okay," Sam says, extending her hand. "You're in then."

You see Tara's smile widen when you take Sam's hand in yours.

[wildrangers]

Book Lovers // Quinn Hughes

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Quinn x fem OC author

Content: prolonged meet cute, flirty banter, fluff. Truly, I saw the clip of Quinn sharing he's a reader and knew I had to write something based on that.

Quinn took a deep, contented breath as he perused the shelves before him. He had a rare day off and was doing one of his favorite fall activities: book shopping.

Normally, he just went to Chapters or Barnes, depending on what country he was in, but he’d decided to explore a new place. He’d been discussing books with Lauren, the new social media manager, and she’d ranted about how they and Amazon were “destroying local markets and harming author profits.” Most of her argument had gone over his head but he took away enough, so here he was at Thomas’ Tomes–the closest locally-owned book shop to his apartment. He figured that was as good a place to start as any and it certainly didn’t hurt that it was a block from his favorite coffee place. 

Which is how he found himself, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, soaking in the relaxing energy of the cozy shop. He’d already selected a few historical fiction novels and was scanning the mystery section he’d just entered. He pulled his phone out, scanning his notes app for the title Lauren had recommended. She’d said it was pretty gruesome but he figured he could handle it…probably.

“Can I help you?” a voice nearby asked, startling him. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you sure a mystery book is a good idea?” 

His gaze rose to meet warm, golden brown eyes filled with amusement. “What do you mean?”

“It’s broad daylight in a public setting and you almost dropped your PSL because I greeted you.”

“You didn’t scare me, I was just in my own world” he argued, but felt his cheeks pinkening. She really had set off a fight or flight response just by doing her job.

“Of course” she replied and he couldn’t tell if he was being sensitive or if there was a teasing glint in her eyes. “My offer still stands.” 

“I’m sorry what?” he asked, confused and scrambling to keep up. 

“To help you find something…preferably a book. I don’t know how much help I’d be beyond that.” 

“Oh sure, yeah, thanks” he mumbled, setting his stack of books down on the table next to him so he could more easily show her his phone screen. “Someone recommended this book to me, do you have it in stock?”

He caught a whiff of something earthy and relaxing as she leaned closer, her eyes scanning the note. “Ah, yes we actually have a display over this way. Theo’s a local author.”

He picked up his items and followed her, moving much quicker than he anticipated having to to keep up as she weaved through the store. “Have you worked here a long time?” 

“My whole life essentially” she chuckled, throwing a grin over her shoulder. Just as she turned back, they passed a window that set her red hair aflame in the midday sun. 

“Oh, yeah? No labor laws then?” he teased, he hoped, successfully.

“I mean, I basically harassed my parents to let me stock shelves or talk to customers. Now I’m slightly less enthusiastic about inventory.” 

He laughed at her light tone, drawing to a stop as she did. “Wow, is this a series or something?” he asked, taking in the full display. 

“Well, the one your girlfriend recommended is the first in a new series” she answered, pointing it out. He was about to correct her but she continued quickly, “And the sequel isn’t out until early next year, so you’ll be waiting a bit for answers. Maybe start with this one?” she suggested, pointing out a title with the fewest books available. 

“Only a couple copies left, it must be popular. Have you read it?” 

“More times than I can count” she huffed.

“You’d think if you kept rereading it’s because you enjoyed it, no?” he chuckled. 

She simply shrugged, turning fully to meet his gaze, “Well, what’s the verdict? I do feel the need to warn you, these books are much closer to horror than just a normal mystery or thriller.” 

“Why does no one think I can handle these books?” he sighed in mild annoyance, grabbing the one she’d recommended off the shelf. 

“You just don’t seem like a horror enthusiast, that’s all.” 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Do you want me to answer genuinely?” she responded, eyebrow quirked in a challenge he couldn’t help but rise to.

“Sure but if you hurt my feelings, can you at least give me a discount?” he joked and she snorted out a laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal” she smirked, offering her hand to shake on it, which he did. He wasn’t at all surprised when her handshake was firm and she maintained eye contact the entire time. “Well, you have two historical fiction books with you and that was the first section you went to when you walked in.”

“You were watching me?” he laughed, earning him an eye roll.

“It’s 11AM on a Tuesday, there’s not much else to do,” she replied, gesturing to the otherwise empty store. “Plus, it’s a fun game to play when I procrastinate on doing actual work. Anyway,” she emphasized, closing her eyes briefly to seemingly get herself back on track. “Once you found those, both of which are part of long, ongoing series, you debated going left to nonfiction or right to mystery. My guess is, you normally would go pick out some biographies, maybe some historical nonfiction or even, oh, maybe some kind of ‘how to maximize yourself’ guide. How close am I?”

He felt his cheeks warm from pink to scarlet, “I mean, close but that doesn’t mean I can’t also like mysteries…” he argued weakly. 

“True enough, who’s your favorite thriller writer?” The long silence was answer enough so she continued, “If you want, you can go pick out a nonfiction book and I’ll throw the thriller in for free.”

“You don’t have to do that, my feelings weren’t that hurt.”

She shrugged, “I can’t in good conscience let you pay for that book, you must have done something to piss off your girlfriend.”

“My coworker, actually” he corrected and her eyebrows rose. “What?”

“What did you do to the poor girl?” 

“Nothing! I even took her suggestion to shop locally.” 

“Our hero” she fake swooned and he rolled his eyes, making her laugh. “Fine, how about when you’re done you bring up your haul and I’ll throw in a surprise? I feel like you’re making it a pride thing to buy the book now.”

“Color me intrigued, we have another deal” he replied. “My name’s Quinn, by the way.” 

“Dora” she replied but a loud snort erupted from near the registers. “Fuck off, Richie” she snapped, turning away from him to seemingly go yell at whoever laughed at her.

Quinn tried to relax back into the calming routine of ambling through a bookstore but he kept hearing her voice and couldn’t focus on much else. He grabbed a biography Jack had recommended, both dreading and eager to be teased by the redhead.

“Don’t let her manipulate you into buying that garbage” the guy, presumably Richie, called as soon as Quinn was in his line of sight. 

“I’m doing no such thing! Tell him, Quinn” she replied, cheeks flaming red in annoyance, her golden eyes fierce with indignation. 

“My coworker actually recommended this author. A different book but still…” he shrugged, placing his other selections on the counter. He noticed her eyes appraising his selections and the quick, amused quirk of her mouth before she whirled to focus on Richie. 

“See I told you!”

“I’m sorry for not believing you” Richie said, seeming sincere to Quinn’s ears but Dora’s eyes narrowed. “It’s just that Theodora here often tries to swindle impressionable young men to improve her book sales.” The heavy emphasis on the girl’s full name made Quinn pause. 

“Wait a minute…” he blinked rapidly, processing this new information. “Your family owns this shop, right? Thomas’ Tomes?” 

“...yeah” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at the giggling Richie. 

“And when you gave your name as Dora, he laughed. And this book, it’s written by Theo Thomas. And he just called you Theodora, which I think means you wrote this?” he questioned, feeling proud of himself for putting the pieces together and a little embarrassed it took him so long.

“He’s solved the mystery! Maybe he can handle your book after all, dear sister” Richie teased. 

“I was going to tell him!” Theo argued, grabbing a pen and opening the book. “That was the surprise, Quinn, now you have a signed copy of the book. You’re welcome, you can thank my asshole brother for ruining the reveal. I also signed a copy of the one your coworker recommended, can you pass it along to her? On the house.” 

“Are you sure?” Quinn questioned and she nodded, shifting to ring up the rest of his purchase. 

“Theo, stop” Richie huffed, shifting her away from the till. “You need to stop procrastinating and finish that last round of edits, they’re due within the week.”

“It’s just garbage anyway, you said so yourself” Theo replied mopily, sitting down on the stool next to the register.

“Oh come on…” Richie sighed, pausing his scanning to give his sister his full attention. “I was just messing with you. I know the sequel’s giving you a hard time but you’re at the finish line now, just a few more days of work then it’s out of your hands. And you’re an incredible, if worryingly grotesque, writer so I have every faith it’ll be amazing.”

“Did you hear that, Quinn?” Theo asked, grinning widely. “He finally admitted I’m a good writer.” 

“Oh fuck off, you guilted me into it!” Richie replied, grabbing the debit card from his outstretched hand. “Quinn, right?” 

“...yeah?”

“Quinn, can you please take my sister anywhere other than this shop? The cafe, the movies, a strip club? I literally don’t care, she’s driving me nuts.” 

“Richie! I’m sorry, he’s kidding, he knows that would be a weird, rude thing to request of a total stranger.” 

“A total stranger you’ve been flirting with…” he mumbled and Theo jammed her elbow into his side.

“Here, let me walk you out…” Theo said, grabbing his bag of books and rapidly leading him away from her brother. Once the cool fresh air surrounded them, she turned quickly towards him. “I am so sorry, Richie thinks he’s funny when he’s really just weird.”

“I have two brothers, I get it” Quinn assured her, reaching to grab the bag from her hands. “It was nice to have someone sign something for me for once.” 

“Do you sign things for people often?” she questioned, confusion evident in her eyes as she scanned him, trying to place who he may be. 

“Most nights yeah” he chuckled shyly, embarrassed by his comment. “Forget about it though…”

“No, no, I’m curious now” she smiled, head tilted in appraisal. “Not an author, I’d know you already. You definitely don’t give off musician vibes…but I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything either so not an actor. Who are you really Quinn? Here I was feeling bad for putting you through the ringer for my own amusement back there and you were a celebrity the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughed anxiously, running his hands through his hair. 

“Well you’re either someone of import or completely delusional and just handing out signatures to people on the streets, so which is it?”

“I’m a hockey player.”

“...okay, and?”

“We’re in Vancouver.” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” 

“This is a huge hockey city! You don’t know the Canucks?”

“I don’t live under a rock, of course I do” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was raised in a bookstore though so sports aren’t high on my list of interests.” 

“Are they on your list at all?” 

“Take a wild guess, Quinn” she replied sarcastically. “I guess you’re a big deal then?”

“I mean, I am the captain…”

“Is that normally what gets girls interested in you?” 

“Damn, tell me how you really feel” he answered, averting his eyes and trying to play off how the quip hurt him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry” she replied, her voice gentle as she tugged softly on his coat sleeve “That’s not how I meant it. I guess I’m just surprised you felt the need to try to impress me when I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I walked over to you in the shop.” 

He was briefly stunned into silence, causing her to rapidly continue, “Oh god, I’m leaving. I hope my book doesn’t traumatize you and I’m sorry for assuming you were trying to impress me, that was weird and presumptuous of me.”

It was his turn to grab her sweater sleeve lightly, “Can I have your number?” 

“Are you sure you want it? I’m clearly an expert at putting my foot into my mouth…” 

“I’m 100% sure but only if you’re interested. There's no pressure.” 

Theo reached into the shopping bag, adding her number to her signature before returning it. “Text me when you finish chapter eight, not a minute before okay? You need to know what you’re getting into here.”

***

Theo sighed, finally closing her laptop for the night but not before catching the time: 1AM. She’d procrastinated most of the day before forcing herself to do the one chapter she’d promised herself she’d get done. She was confident in the overall story but she felt like a single thread was missing that would lead to the next book’s central plot. Should the apparent villain be more gray and get a redemption arc? Or should she double down? Or maybe…her phone vibrating across the desk stopped her obsessing.

Respectfully, your mind must be a truly terrifying place. What the FUCK was that twist?

She smirked, butterflies tentatively taking flight in her stomach at the unknown number’s text.

I’m sorry, who is this?

How many men do you secretly sell your book to, sign said book with your number, and give detailed instructions on when they can use that number?

At least three today that I can think of, so any additional information would really help.

It’s Quinn.   

Ah yes, the biography and historical fiction lover! What twist are you referring to? 

I think if I typed it out I’d get flagged by an FBI agent or something…that was gruesome

I tried to warn you…

Take my advice, try harder with your next group of guys

I’ll do my best. I suspect the more I’d try to warn you off the more you would have dug your heels in though

Nah, I don’t have a competitive bone in my body 

Of course, my bad. Will you finish the book or is it too much? You can always give it to your girlfriend

*Coworker. I wouldn’t be texting a beautiful girl I just met if I was in a relationship

How charming and reassuring of you!

Are you always like this?

Like what?

Chirping

…I’m sorry what?

You don’t know what chirping means? That’s disappointing given you're a writer, Theo… 

Please, enlighten me

Chirping is a hockey term for when you’re ribbing someone. During a game, guys will chirp or make fun of each other to get under their skin. 

Are you saying I’m getting under your skin?

I’m saying I feel like my brain has to work overtime to keep up with you

That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me

That can’t possibly be true

As she mulled over what to say next, the three blue dots popped up so she paused until his response appeareed

Can I ask you a forward question? 

Shoot 

Are you free tonight? 

Are you asking me on a date?

Not quite, I’m asking you to come to my hockey game 

And why’s that?

Because you’re clearly smart and cute and have a twisted mind that I’m curious to learn more about. But you gave me a warning, so asking you to go to my game is mine

Ah, so since you passed my test you want to see if I can pass yours?

If you want it to be a challenge, sure. I just think it’s fair for you to get a glimpse of my weird life before I actually ask you out. Just like how you showed me a glimpse of your weird brain. 

Challenge and pre-date screening accepted. Where do I go and when? 

Which is how Theo found herself weaving through the crowds at Rogers Arena. Quinn had offered to get her a second ticket so she’d have company but she figured it was fair she went it alone since he was game to read her book. How terrifying could a hockey game be in comparison to a brutal serial killer story?

Quite scary, it turned out. The crowd was electric, the arena was sold out, and the noise was deafening. She’d never admit it to Quinn but she did watch some basic hockey rule videos on YouTube so she wouldn’t be totally oblivious. By the third period, she felt settled into the rhythm of the game and was actually enjoying it a bit. Especially when a fight broke out and she could cheer for violence against a random man she didn’t know alongside thousands of people. There was something very cathartic about the experience. 

It also turned out that Quinn, in this world, is a big deal. She’d immediately noticed that a huge percentage of fans were wearing his jersey. And as the team warmed up, Quinn had traded a puck for a piece of candy causing the teenage girl to scream in hysterics afterwards. It was both bizarre and fascinating to watch given she’d met this random man the day before at her family’s store. Maybe she should have asked for a signature, it probably would sell for a pretty penny…

A roar from the crowd pulled her attention back to the ice and her heart dropped to her stomach. Fights were a lot less fun when you knew and had budding feelings for one of the guys involved, especially when who he was squared off against had almost half a foot on him. To her surprise and relief, Quinn could hold his own, using speed to his advantage. When they both fell to the ice before finally being separated, she took it to mean it was a draw but the crowd screamed like he’d single handedly won the championship game, even as he was guided off the ice by the officials. There was less than three minutes left in the game so she hoped that was why rather than that he was hurt. She worried her lip between her teeth as she pulled out her phone.

Idk if you’ll see this before the end of the game but are you okay?????

She sighed as the minutes passed, the final buzzer sounding without a reply, so she stood to leave with the tide of people. Just as she tucked her phone in her pocket, she felt it buzzing insistently with a phone call. 

“Quinn, are you okay?” she asked without greeting him. She was focused on his answer but noticed a few fans within hearing distance whip their heads towards her at his name.

“Yeah, sorry I jumped right in the shower after the major.”

“I don’t totally know what that whole sentence means but I’m relieved you’re alright.”

His warm chuckle through the phone made her toes curl. “Did I scare you off?”

“I’m offended you’d think so” she replied but if he’d been with her, he’d easily tell she was a little shaken by the experience. 

“If you say so, Dora…” he teased and she laughed loudly, accidentally drawing more attention her way. “Can I take you out for a drink then?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’m currently in a sea of your most devoted followers though so I’ll need some help finding you.” 

He stayed on the phone as he guided her through the arena to the parking deck where he’d meet her shortly, only hanging up once she confirmed she was at the right car by reading his license plate number back to him. She scrolled through her phone while waiting but she felt eyes on her. She couldn’t help but be a little uncomfortable at the thought that these strangers knew Quinn’s car or at very least understood players would be emerging into this section of the parking garage. As a lifelong Vancouver resident, she obviously knew how hockey-obsessed her city was but she never thought much about these details.

She heard male voices approaching from the opposite direction of where she’d come so she tucked her phone in her purse. Quinn emerged with a tall blonde, their two heads bent together in serious conversation. When a young boy approached, they both paused, kneeling down to greet him and sign his jersey. They repeated the motion a few times before excusing themselves from the small crowd that had formed. 

“Hey! How’d you like the game?” Quinn asked, briefly pulling her in for a hug.

“I really liked the fighting until you were involved, then it was less fun” she admitted, smiling to greet Quinn’s companion. “I’m Theo.”

“Elias, good to meet you. Enjoy the rest of your night and maybe help Theo into your car before loading up, yeah?” Elias suggested and she felt her brows furrow. Quinn quickly glanced back towards the small group of people and her eyes followed his, noting that several phones were out and seemingly recording everything.

“Thanks man, drive safe” Quinn replied, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the passenger side “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine” she replied despite her confusion and frazzledness. He must have seen it on her face though because he quickly unlocked the door and helped her in. A moment later he was in the driver’s seat, backing up and speeding through the parking deck. 

“I think this is the longest silence I’ve experienced in your presence” Quinn mused at the long, but not uncomfortable, quiet that had settled.

“I’m sorry that was just…”

“A lot? Too much? I can drop you off if you’ve changed your mind, I get it” he nervously filled in.

“Quinn, stop,” she laughed. “That’s not what I was going to say, it’s just a lot to process. I really thought you were trying to, like, gas yourself up when you said people wanted your signature daily but the girl you gave a puck to almost burst into tears afterwards” 

His cheeks flamed a deep crimson which she found wildly endearing, “Yeah, it’s a lot to process for me and it’s my life.” She took in his tired eyes and the dark circles beneath them. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I have a full bar cart and you seem like you could use some quiet” she offered. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Quinn, I extended the invitation, of course I’m sure. Just take the left at the next light.” 

She guided him through the city to her apartment, allowing silences to stretch while he seemingly decompressed from the game and its aftermath. Contrary to his initial impression, she was comfortable with quiet and enjoyed when someone’s company didn’t require constant banter and attention.

“Here, park in this spot, my neighbor’s away this week so no one will care if you're there.” 

He did as instructed and she went to open the car door, nearly knocking him with it, “Jesus, Quinn! Did you sprint over here? I can open the door myself, you know…”

“I didn’t sprint, I just moved quickly. And I know you can open the door, I just wanted to do it for you” he mumbled and she smiled at his nervousness. 

“Well, thanks and I'm sorry for almost injuring you. It seems like something that could really fuck with your job.” 

“Just a little” he chuckled, offering his hand to help her out of his truck. She took it, enjoying how warm and calloused his fingers felt against her own. He went to remove his grip but she squeezed his fingers in a silent request to keep holding on, which he did. 

“This is a great spot” he complimented as they rode the elevator up to her floor. “I guess the writing’s really working out?”

“I moved in about a year ago. I’d been doing pretty good but then my most recent book, the one your coworker recommended, kind of blew up. Which is great but also has made getting the sequel done a bit stressful” she admitted, reluctantly releasing his hand to unlock her door. 

“Why’s that? Wouldn’t the success kind of add to your confidence?”

“It did, for a little, but if this next one tanks then it just proves it was a fluke and then what?” she questioned, flicking on the lights. “Penny!” she called, squatting down to pet her beloved dog. 

Penny wiggled into her body, pushing her over and onto the floor making Theo chuckle. “Settle down, it’s only been a few hours.” 

“She’s beautiful” Quinn complimented from behind her, closing the door as he stepped inside. Penny was immediately investigating him, sniffing his hands as her tail wagged excitedly. “What a sweetie. You said her name’s Penny, right?”

“Yeah, short for Pennywise” Theo elaborated as she stood back up to slip her shoes off. 

“Of course, how silly of me to not make the connection” he chuckled. 

“I mean, I’m named after a horror novel character so I had to continue the family tradition with my own child” she explained, making her way towards the kitchen. 

“Are you really?” 

“Yeah, Theodora from Haunting of Hill House. Richie was named after Tozier in Stephen King’s It.” 

“That makes your choice of genre less surprising.” 

She laughed and shrugged, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Honestly? I don’t really drink, I just wanted to see you tonight since the game didn’t scare you off.” 

“I tried to tell you, I don’t scare easily,” she teased. “I don’t really drink either. Hot cocoa?” 

“Sounds great, thanks” he replied and she busied herself getting the ingredients together. “Seriously though, what did you think of the game?” 

“Like I said, it was fun until I worried you were hurt, then it was significantly less enjoyable” she answered, handing him a warm mug. “Want to hang in my library? Your book taste is questionable but I still think you’ll enjoy my collection.” 

“Why is my taste questionable?” he scoffed but followed her down the hall. 

“It’s just very…dude bro-y.” 

“How elegant” he teased and she rolled her eyes. 

“Maybe not elegant, but accurate, no?” 

“Whatever, Dora” he grumbled and she laughed.

“Is that going to be a thing? You call me by my least favorite nickname when I annoy you?”

“To be fair, it was you who offered that name up.” 

She sighed, sipping her drink and settling into the couch in her study. She watched as he slowly made his way around the room, every wall lined with books from floor to ceiling. “This room is incredible.” 

“Thanks” she beamed, genuinely thrilled at the compliment. “It’s kind of my pride and joy, aside from Penny, of course.” 

“I can tell,” he replied earnestly, settling beside her. “There has to be some nonfiction in here, right?” 

“Sure, if you’re into true crime, psychology, forensics, and/or mental health memoirs.” 

“I actually really enjoy psychology, it’s helped my game a lot.” 

“Really?” she asked and couldn’t hide the surprise from her tone which earned her a light glare. “I just meant that hockey seems much more physical than cerebral.”

“Oh it’s super mental actually” he argued and she nodded her encouragement for him to continue. “Okay so tonight for example. I didn’t have to drop my gloves and fight but doing so showed my team that I have their back and the other team that even though I’m smaller, they can’t push me around. Since I’m a quieter guy, I choose my actions carefully to kind of speak without speaking if that makes sense.”

“It does but you’re not small, silly. Not that it would matter even if you were but you’re not.” 

“I’m hockey small” he corrected and she didn’t know enough to argue. “Oh, another example. When a player is approaching the goal, they have to strategize what they can physically do while also anticipating the goalies expectations. Which is hard because the goalie is doing the same thing. So, it becomes really strategic in addition to the skill you need to play at this level.”

She nodded, genuinely intrigued by this new element of the game she watched tonight. He must have taken her silence for boredom because he quickly continued, “I’m sorry, I can be a bit of a hockey nerd.”

“Don’t be sorry, it honestly makes the game more interesting to me to think of it that way. Plus, I already knew you were a book nerd, what’s one more level of nerdiness?” 

He rolled his eyes and she laughed, lost in their deep blue. The air shifted between them, tension developing where there had been none. She set her mug down, eyes dipping to his lips and back up. She really wanted to know what his mouth would feel like against hers. 

“I come with a lot of baggage” he admitted quietly and she shrugged. 

“Don’t we all?” she asked, matching his quiet tone. She couldn’t help herself from raising a hand to gently trace the curve of his cheekbones. “I really like looking at you” she mumbled before she could think the comment through. 

He chuckled softly, covering her hand with his own, “I really like looking at you too, weirdo.” 

She grinned at his response, closing her eyes as his mouth finally met her own. 

A/N: Sorry for the cut to black, I'm debating if I want to continue with this OC so let me know what you think! It's my first OC in a very, very long time so sorry if the grammar is wonky in spots.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Read

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: Your sister can't read

"Oh, shit."

The suitcase clatters to the ground.

"Mummy says that's a bad word," You tell your sister.

Your sister runs a hand over her face as you stare at her, unblinking. "Yes, well, Mum isn't here right now."

"Mummy's on holiday," You agree, bobbing your head up and down.

"She is," Mary says as she hurriedly tries to pick up all the bags," Which is why you're with me."

You look around the area as Mary takes your hand, holding it firm in her own as she brings you along to the entrance.

"Morning, Mary," A man behind a phone camera says," Who's this?"

"Morning," She greets, nudging you," This is my little sister, y/n. y/n, say hello."

"Hi!" You chirp before losing interest and looking around again. "Mary, I'm hungry."

"I'm not too sure when lunch will be. Sorry," Mary says as she grabs her room key.

"But I'm hungry now."

Mary flounders a bit, patting her pockets. All she ends up with is a half eaten protein bar. She's not sure if little kids are allowed to have protein bars. She gives it to you anyway.

"Here, rugrat," She says," Don't tell mum."

You cram it into your mouth. "Why?"

"Well...I don't know if I'm meant to give that to you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't."

"Is it because you can't read?"

Mary freezes in the middle of the hallway, trying to ignore the snickers of the teammates who have poked their heads out of their rooms to watch the interaction.

"Who told you I can't read?"

You shrug. "Mikey from school says footballers can't read because all their brain power has to go to their legs. If you can't read Mary you have to tell me 'cause then I need to find someone else for my bedtime story."

"I can read, rugrat!" Mary says a bit indignantly as she tries to wave away the other girls.

You give her a look. "Are you sure? You shouldn't lie, Mary, it's mean and I'll tell on you."

"I can read!"

"Don't worry, y/n!" Ella jeers from her doorway," I can read! I can do your bedtime story."

You smile. "Thank you, Ella!"

You like Ella. She plays with Mary at Manchester United and she's a little silly sometimes and you're sure that she can do all the different voices for the characters.

You turn back to Mary. "It's okay if you can't read," You say," I'm sure Ella can teach you."

"I can read!" She insists.

You pat her on the leg in comfort. "It's okay. You still have time to learn."

You leave Mary with Ella (who promises to help her learn to read) at lunch and scamper off to join Lessi. She used to play with Mary and she used to be your most favourite at United but now she's your most favourite at Arsenal.

She sits you up nice and high at a table with some of the other Arsenal girls like Lotte and Beth.

"My sister can't read," You say in greeting," Mikey from school says it's because United players are knuckleheads, except for Ella because she can read. Are Arsenal girls knuckleheads?"

Beth laughs under her breath and tries to disguise it as a cough but you know better.

"Are you asking if we can read?" Lotte asks.

You nod.

"We can read."

"That's good." You poke at your food. "It must be sad that Mary can't read."

Beth stifles another laugh, clearing her throat. "Yeah, very sad."

You glance around the room. "Can anyone else not read?"

Alessia shrugs. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"Mikey from school says Manchester City players are smart so that must mean they can read. Can Chelsea girls read?"

"Do you want to go and ask?"

You nod and hop off your chair. You pick out the Chelsea girls easily and tug on Jess Carter's hand.

"Hey," She says," Is everything okay?" She looks around. "Where's Mary?"

"Learning to read." You peek up over the table on your tiptoes so you can see everyone. "Mikey from school says Manchester United players are knuckleheads. Are any of you knuckleheads?"

Niamh snickers before sending a teasing smile to Lauren. "LJ's a bit of a knucklehead sometimes."

LJ rolls her eyes and flicks a pea at her teammate. "You're one to talk."

You gasp and wiggle away to take Lauren's hand, pulling her up out of her seat before you grab at Niamh too. You cart them away without explanation, mentally counting Fran and Jess out of team knucklehead.

You pass by Maya and Millie Turner and call out for them urgently.

"What's going on, rugrat?" Maya chuckles as you lead the group of four on. "Are you building an army?"

You shake your head as you wander through the hallways up to the bedrooms. You count three doors down from the elevator and drop Niamh's hand to knock.

Ella opens the door with a smile before it's dropped for a look of confusion when she's greeted by the equally confused group of four behind you.

"You building an army or something, rugrat?" She laughs.

"That's what I said!" Maya says and you shake your head, forcing everyone inside.

Mary's sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone. She looks up and groans. "What have you done this time?"

"Haven't done anything!" You insist, sticking your tongue out at her before turning to Ella. You point at the girls. "They can't read!" You tell her," 'Cause Niamh and LJ are knuckleheads and Maya and Millie play for United."

"I play for United," Ella says.

"But you can read. You're special," You tell her," You have to teach them."

You sound so serious and Mary can't help but burst into laughter.

That annoys you a little bit but you know just how to shut her up.

"You can't leave until you've learnt to read!"

[blaithnne]

Local big sister experiences emotions, more at 6

Been wanting to do one of these with Lauren for AGES, but I never got round to it. Then I saw the Lydia and Phinium expression sheets on @littledigits’ website and I felt inspiration like never before.

The funniest struggle I have with Lauren’s design right now is that she nose too big for she got damn face. Literally, Hilda characters noses take up a fairly small portion of their faces, and her’s took up WAY too much, leaving little room for her to make facial expressions. But I struggled to find a fix because when I made the nose smaller it just didn’t look like Lauren anymore, so I took this as an opportunity to work on that!

She still has a larger nose than most characters, starting higher up (like her grandad!) and ending lower down (but not quite as low as before). I also made her eyes a little smaller and with a shape similar to Lydia’s (though you can see in some of these I hadn’t quite landed on that yet and her eyes are a bit too big), which works both as a nod to her parentage and because I think it makes the nose look bigger. This still doesn’t leave as much room for the mouth as most other characters, but that’s okay — Lauren is a very private person who keeps her feelings close to her chest, I think it works for her to have subtler expressions, adds to how guarded she is! Oh and I also updated the shape of her hair slightly, just to make it a bit more style accurate.

These changes are pretty small on their own, but I think combined they work well to make Lauren feel a lot more…alive? Far less stiff, anyway. I think she also has a more unique facial structure now, instead of just “what if Johanna was 90% nose”. She’s still got a big old nose and I love it but now she can emote, yay!

This is really all just concept stuff, I’m hoping to get a new fullbody style-ref for Lauren out soon! Now that I’ve improved the main issues I had with her face in the last ref, now it’s onto the silhouette! I want her to read as more of a strong character (though it comes across decently in her current ref, I wanna push it more without being as exaggerated as Ahlberg, which is. A challenge for me lol), streamline her silhouette, and finally make her taller than Johanna like she’s always meant to have been <3 I made her shorter for so long because I thought it would help her read better as her daughter but you know what? That’s dumb actually, she’s tall.

ANYWAYS, thank you for listening in on the annual Lauren redesign, and to the artists behind the show for posting so much amazing inspiring show stopping concept work for free because it makes my autism worse /pos

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Humping it up on hump day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You taste the cocktail and make a face. As sweet as it is, the alcohol is stringent in your throat. You set the glass down as Bucky’s fingers tap on his pint. You glance up, surprised to find him watching you. 

"Don't like it?" He asks. 

"Mm, no, I mean yes. No." You stutter out. "It's good, I just... don't drink much." 

"She's a good girl." Your mom teases. "I always had to push her out the door. Oh, don't even ask about prom." She grabs his forearm and cackles. "You would think buying a dress would be fun. Nope. I think she'd have rather gone to the dentist." 

Your cheeks turn hot. Four years past and you still cringe at the fitting room torture. You look down and fiddle with the cutlery wrapped in a red napkin. You really wish she wouldn't treat you like a child. You suppose at times you might act like one. 

"Those things can be tough. I barely remember mine. Only went so my buddy didn't feel like such a loser," Bucky shrugs. "But look at how far you've come. I'm sure high school is like a blip on the radar. Now the real fun begins, huh?" 

You know he's trying to help and you appreciate. But it only makes your chest tighten. The dread throbs in your temples. Life, it's all ahead of you but you have no idea where to start. 

"Yeah, I... I barely remember." You talk to the table. 

"She's a smart one," your mom praises. "I really lucked out. No teenage angst, no rebellion." 

You chew your lip and pick at the trim of the table. You sound lame. You are and you never minded the safety of that trait. Still, you'd like to be known as more than a boring little bookworm. 

"Okay, here we are." The server rescues you from further humiliation. "Chicken caesar." 

She puts your salad in front of you, "cheese steak sammy and macaroni salad." She lays a plate in front of Bucky, "and the sizzling fajitas." 

Another server appears with a wooden plank, set with a cast iron pan atop it and fixings; tortillas, salsa, guac. It smells delicious but you know it's too early for all that. You'd be even sleepier and you still have to get unpacked.  

"Enjoy," the waitress smiles and struts away. 

You unwrap your cutlery and use the knife and fork to shred the lettuce. You should've known better than to order salad. It's always so awkward to eat with others around to see. 

"Mm, pretty good," Bucky says. "Lauren, how's that extravaganza? Really went all out." 

"Wasn't expecting all this." Your mother scoops grilled peppers into a tortilla, daintily with her fork as her nails shine in the light. You remember when you asked to get a manicure and she said they were impractical... 

She's changed but you don’t feel all that different than when you left for college. Maybe you should have tried harder. Well, it's not like your life is over. Far from. 

"How about you?" Bucky prompts and once more you meet his gaze with a startled blink. You nod and swallow. 

"Good. Just boring old salad." You say. 

"Always chicken caesar," your mother chirps. "Creature of habit. Don't worry. You'll hardly be surprised. By tonight, she'll have one of her books and you won't hear another peep." 

You bite down on your tongue. You're not sure anymore if she's bragging or she's chiding you. Her life is so exciting now. Her hair is highlighted, her nails are filled, and her makeup... she's actually wearing makeup. 

"Didn't think you could work with those." You say as she catches her nail on her napkin. 

"Oh, yeah, I'm not in the ward anymore. Sweetie, didn't I tell you? I do clinicals now. I just show the new ones what to do. Not much hands-on stuff." 

"Uh, I remember. Sorry." 

"Too sharp," Bucky chuckles. "Can't even hold her hand without getting clawed." 

She jabs him with her shaped tip and he grunts. They laugh together and you look around. You're the sore thumb sticking out. Ever the third wheel. Even when you had 'friends', you sat on the sidelines, confused by their inside jokes. 

"It's very good. Thank you." You sit forward and focus on the salad. The sooner this is over, the sooner you can do exactly what your mom expects. Hide with a book. Alone. 

🩵

Home is always a comforting sight but not as much as you expect. A flicker of guilt sparks in your chest. Bucky just bought you lunch, you shouldn’t be so negative. Still, you just want to unwind after a long day of traveling. 

As much as you want him to just go, you would never say as much. Your mom seems happy with him. She even seems healthier. It’s nice to see her taking care of herself, she’s done enough of that for others for too long. 

You get out of the car but Bucky’s too fast. He has you bag in his hand before you can react to the trunk opening. He smiles and insists, “I got it. You lead the way.” 

“Mm, I could nap about now,” your mother calls over the car roof. 

You agree internally. The whole train ride, you looked forward to burying yourself in blankets and leaving the world behind. It would be rude to do so with company around, even if they aren’t yours.  

You follow your mom to the front door and she unlocks it with a yawn. You enter and slip your shoes off on the mat. Things are different. Not too different, you can’t quite place everything. Yet you notice that the coat rack has been replaced with mounted hooks across the wall and the rug at the bottom of the stairs is new. 

“Oh!” Your mom spins, surprising you before you can sneak past her. “I forgot about your surprise!” 

You look at her then over your shoulder at Bucky as he plunks down your bag. You wait for him to respond. He just offers a small curve of his lips. You turn back. 

“You,” your mom taps your nose. “Come on. Ah,” she waves around you at Bucky, “bring her bag with you.” 

Your mom grabs your arm and ushers you upstairs. You can’t resist, too swept up in fatigue and confusion. He follows behind you. What’s happening? 

“Okay. I hope you like it,” she goes to your door and your stomach flips. Oh no, what did they do? She swings the door open and backs up, waving inside, “tada!” 

You hesitate but make yourself step into the doorway. You glance around and your mouth slowly falls open. You blink at the room. Wow. 

It’s not awful, just another change you’re not ready for. Instead of your old rectangle bookcases, new circle ones have been built into the walls; white instead of brown. Your bed is the same but the wood is newly re-stained and the bedding is shade of pink you wouldn’t necessarily choose. A heart shaped rug is spread across the floor and your previous desk has been replaced with one that folds into the wall. 

There is an entirely new piece that stands out. A vanity in the corner. The mirror is the same shape as the carpet and the stool has a fluffy seat. 

“Oh, wow...” you utter as you step further inside. 

“Bucky is so handy! I always wanted to do this but I didn’t know where to start. Oh, just wait until you see his place,” she rambles as she trails you. “He built the whole thing himself.” 

“I had help,” he tuts and sets your bag down. “Tried not to do too much but just added a fresh coat to everything.” 

You’re silent.  

“Sweetie?” Your mom touches your arm. 

“I’m... surprised. That’s all.” 

“She’s speechless, Bucky!” She squeals and claps her hands. “I knew she’d love it.” 

“Heh, yeah. Well, I hope it isn’t too much.” He rubs his neck as he looks around. “You can let me know. I can change whatever you need.” 

“No, no, it’s really nice. Like really. I...” you wring a finger in your other hand. “Thank you.” 

“Lauren,” he sidles past you and nudges your mother gently. “Why don’t we let her get settled in? I’m sure she’s beat from the road.” 

“Right, right,” she beams around the room before she faces him. “Of course.” She glances over at you, “sweetie, let us know if you need anything, okay?” 

“Mom, I’m fine.” You show your teeth sheepishly and hover around the wall. 

Bucky leaves first, your mom following as she cranes to stare at the room. She leaves you with an excited wiggle and you go to close the door behind her. Once it’s shut, you sigh. You weren’t ready for any of this. Somehow coming home has proven even more disjointing than going away to college. 

You plod to the bed and flop onto it. You roll onto your back and let your eyes rove. It is so cute. You would have killed for a room like this in high school, even on campus. Yet it does seem a lot. You’re sure once you get a job, your mom doesn’t expect you to stay too long. 

Maybe this is a good thing. A little less pressure on you to get out but not exactly. With Bucky hanging around, you can’t help but be in the way. You’re not the only one who needs to adjust to your return. 

You can worry about it all later. For now, you need to close your eyes and stop thinking. 

🩵

The afternoon wears on as you dawdle away on your phone. You can barely keep your eyes open as the screen glares back at you. It’s almost six when you make yourself stop the addictive word game.  

You lay listless, trying to urge yourself to get up and do something. You lose the battles as your eyes close and you drift off without realising it. In your subconscious, you’re just as you are in reality. Just lying there, motionless and mindless. 

You wake slowly as pressure squeezes in your pelvis. Your bladder forces you to action. Even with the painful weight throbbing inside, you move without urgency. You sit up slowly, dizzy from the unexpected doze. You stand and shuffle to the door. 

You leave it open as you go into the hall and let your feet guide you. Habit takes down to the bathroom door and you reach for the handle. It turns from the other side and you recoil in surprise. Bucky stops short as he emerges and apologises. 

You stammer as you gape back at him. Somehow after the whirlwind morning, you forgot all that change. In your grogginess, you didn’t see the new walls or the white bookcases or think. 

“S...Sorry...” you murmur.  

You’re consumed in radiating heat as you stare at the stubble along his neck. Any lower and he might be embarrassed. He is shirtless after all. You’ve never been the best at looking people in the face but you have no choice. You examine his silver-streaked hair, slightly tussled, and his grizzly beard with its dusting of white along his chin. 

You step back as he raises a palm and dips his head. “No problem. Gotta get used to each other, I guess. Bad timing, is all.” 

“Right,” you agree dully. 

He looks back at you and his forehead creases. “You okay?” 

You wince. “Yeah, why?” 

“Nothing, nothing. Just... you look... a little out of it.” 

“I fell asleep,” you run your fingers along your throat nervously. The motion catches his eyes. Their startling blue hue gleam in the light. 

“Right. I figured you needed it. Long ride...home.” His gaze flicks up to meet yours. “Sorry you’re stuck here with us boring old people. You probably miss it already.” 

You shrug, “not really.” 

“Not really? What about your friends?” He rests his hand on the door frame and leans. 

“Didn’t... just study buddies. Classmates.” You look away and shift as your bladder aches. 

He clears his throat and stands straight. He steps out of the frame and you jump at his sudden movement. He touches your hip to keep from colliding with you and sidles by. 

“I’ll just get out of your way, baby girl,” He squeezes, his hand lingering for a moment. “Welcome home.” 

He lets go and turns, strutting down the hall as you stand frozen. You hurry forward and shut yourself in the bathroom as you scramble with the sudden agonizing pang. You don’t have time to think, you have to go! 

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Seven Days of Suffering: Rescue

I hear you whisper underneath your breath / I hear your SOS, your SOS I will send out an army to find you / In the middle of the darkest night / It's true, I will rescue you / I will never stop marching to reach you / In the middle of the hardest fight / It's true, I will rescue you - Lauren Daigle

Event Masterpost | CW: kidnapping, beating, discussion of murder | Text messages between Vincent and Chidi. Vincent has been kidnapped.

Transcript

C: Vincent

C: Vincent, we’re looking for you. Reply if you’re conscious and have access to your phone.

C: I don’t want to alert anyone with text notifications in case they’re making noise so I’ll stop now, but if you can tell us anything about your location, it will help. Reply as soon as you can, sir. Please. I love you.

V: im in atrunk. muted the phone

V: I love you

C: Thank God. I’m going to call you now but don’t say anything. I don’t want anyone up front to hear you. I’m just confirming it’s you.

Video Call, 1m 23sec

V: Why the fuck did you hang up

C: You have to conserve battery. Turn down your screen brightness, and turn on your phone tracking.

V: Please tell me it wont take that lng to get here

V: Im sorry I keep typing wrong

V: I am shaking a lot

C: It won’t, I’ll be there very soon. I just want to be able to keep texting you the whole time, okay? Breathe slowly, like we do together. I promise I will rescue you.

V: Tracking is on. Where am I?

C: Headed East, near the Italian border

C: The entire army is converging on your location. Are you injured, sir?

V: Yyes

C: How badly?

V: I don’t know. They just kidked things for a while. This isn’t for ransom is it

C: Are you in pain?

V: What a stupid question

C: It’s for the medical team that’s headed for you. Where are you hurt? And how much can you feel it? They need to know if you’re in shock.

V: I think my rigs are broken

V: Ribs. Fuck. I am not in shock I’m just shaking because my hands were tied up so long.

V: Anyway, I said is this for a ransom? I shouldn’t have to repeat myself Chidi

C: I don’t think so, sir. We haven’t been contacted for funds. My guess is a personal grudge. Did you see their faces?

V: No

C: Don’t worry. I’ll know who they are soon enough. They’ll be so sorry they ever touched you, sir. Their deaths will be slow and will involve ribs being torn out.

V: <3 thank you

V: I’m sorry I went off without you

C: NO. This is not your fault.

V: How longjis it going to be?                    

C: Not long. I am approaching by helicopter. Myrmidons in the area will reach you first, in a few minutes.

V: Thank you. Keep replying.

C: Of course, sir.

C: I love you so much. You have no idea what im feeling right now.

V: You’re being sentimental again Chidi

C: Yes. You have that effect on me, I’m afraid.

V: What are you feeling then?

C: Power. I could wipe nations off the face of the Earth. You make me strong, sir.

V: Sometimes I like you sentimental

[mountttmase]

Winter Sun - Chapter 3

Note - chapter three already I can’t 😭 honestly thank you so much for all the love and interaction on this it’s really warming my cold little heart 🥹 enjoy this one kiddos and let me know what you think 🩷 also sorry if the tag list didn’t work last week I think I’ve fixed it for this one 🤞🏻

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.1k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

After your late night between the sheets, you treated yourself to a lie in the next morning. Waking to find a text from Carly to meet her by the pool with the others when you were ready, so you quickly threw on a bikini and shorts before throwing over a shirt and grabbing your things to go and find her.

You knew they shouldn’t, but Mason's words from yesterday were playing in your head a little bit still. You knew he meant nothing by it and was just being his cheeky self but you didn’t want to be a customer of his no matter if he meant it as a joke or not. It made you feel as if you were in a long line of girls he picked up whenever he felt like it and yes you were technically just friends but you couldn’t help but feel upset about it. Especially after the awkward good night you’d suffered through after you were both done last night and you felt like the whole arrangement you had going on was a bit weird now.

By the time you were outside pretty much everyone was there bar Woody, Kayla and Mason and you quickly said hello to Dec and Lauren before making your way over to Carly who had Ben's head laid in her lap as she played with his hair.

‘Morning lovebirds’ you smiled, standing at the end of their sun lounger before Carly patted the one next to her.

‘I’ve saved you a seat’

‘Oh, that’s a double though I don’t wanna take up a whole one to myself’ you told her, looking to see if one of the single ones were free but they were on the other side of the pool so you wouldn’t be able to speak to her.

‘There’s plenty for everyone else, come on it’s fine’ she pouted and after another quick scan around you realised she was right so you got yourself comfortable. The pair of you sat chatting and catching up until the others emerged and about half an hour later Mason showed up. The sight of him making your mouth water as he made his way over to everyone.

You’d seen him in a lot less by now but the tiny black swim shorts were making your tummy churn as they accentuated all your favourite features of his. Low on his soft hips but his thighs were still strong and the mole on his tummy was driving you wild. You kept your eyes down though and pretended to read as he made his way over to you.

‘Morning all’ he chirped and you sent him a quick smile before going back to reading. It didn’t deter him from flopping down next to you though and when you didn’t look at him, you felt his hand gently trail up your thigh before giving it a quick squeeze.

‘What are you doing?’ You whispered, heart racing from the feel of his fingers. Gulping down a nervous lump and quickly flashing your eyes his way to look at him. He was giving you his usual cheeky, innocent smile but you knew he knew what was happening.

‘What?’

‘Don’t, people might see’ you told him, moving your leg so his hand dropped onto the cushion with a thud and you could see his scowl from the corner of your eye.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, I’m fine’

‘Did you sleep okay?’

‘I said I’m fine’

‘Y/n, I grew up in a house full of women. I know fine doesn’t mean fine’

‘I just wanna read my book’ you told him lowly and after a small nod he slowly got up and made his way over to the pool.

You felt awful instantly, watching him over your glasses as he swam a few laps with a solemn expression. You knew Mason and you knew he meant no harm with what he’d said yesterday. This was a tricky situation, lines were a little bit blurry but there was no use being snappy with him for something you knew he meant as a joke and you were being sensitive over. No matter how much he’d made you feel like it was something else, even in this short space of time, you were friends and the friendship comes first.

The longer you watched him, the more guilty you felt and you watched as he propped himself up at the end of the pool. His chin resting on his arms as he faced away from you and you knew you had to talk to him and apologise so you carefully got up to go and see him. Plonking yourself down at the edge of the pool next to him so you could dangle your legs in the water before looking at him in hopes you could catch his eye.

He looked up at you instantly, his big brown eyes making your tummy sink so you reached out to gently grasp the back of his head so you could pull him closer to you and he thankfully went with it. Your heart leaping when he settled himself between your legs, arms wrapping around your thighs before he rested his cheek on top of one so he could look up at you.

‘Sorry Mase. I didn’t mean to be moody’ you told him quietly and the small smile on his lips filled you with relief.

‘S’okay. Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine, I promise’ you reassured him, feeling even worse that he didn't seem to mind your mood swing. He just wanted to make sure you were okay. ‘Maybe I should have stayed in bed a bit longer, huh? I’ll be fine after a nap’

‘You’ve only just woken up’ he chuckled, eyes brighter than before which caused you to smile as you knew you were okay again and you let your hand get lost in his hair.

‘Hey, naps can be taken anytime of the day’

‘Very true’ he giggled, squeezing your thighs gently. ‘Let me know when you’re taking one I’ll join you’

You weren’t sure if it was the sun bearing down on you or if it was Mason himself but you felt warmed from the inside and as your hand was trailing over the top of his back and you were surprised at how warm his skin felt too. ‘Have you put sunscreen on?’ You asked but he shook his head shyly. ‘Come on, I’ve got some let me help you’

‘You don’t wanna come for a swim?’

‘No thanks, waters not really my thing. You should be thankful I’m even sat here’ you laughed before he kissed your thigh and swam back slightly to let you up.

Mason managed to dry off a little bit before he sat at the end of the sun lounger with his back to you and you slid in behind him to get to work. You'd never really taken a good look at his back before but he was much broader than you realised and you loved the way his muscles contracted under your touch. Taking your time to really look at him and feel him before telling him to turn and face you.

You let him get comfortable, one leg stretched out on the lounger now so you could sit yourself closer to his body. Noticing the way he shivered as you applied the cold cream to his skin before sending him an apologetic smile. He didn’t seem to mind though, a soft smile playing on his face as he watched your every move and you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart going at a mile a minute as you touched his chest and down to his abs.

It felt weird having these feelings. Mason was a friend and you knew that. But he was a gorgeous, funny and kind friend with an incredible body and you couldn’t believe you were sat here touching him up like this in front of everyone. Only made worse when his hand reached out to touch your thigh carefully.

The sound and feel of his belly rumbling as you applied the sunscreen to his body made you chuckle, eyeing him curiously as he laughed at himself before you rested your hands on his hips.

‘You not had anything to eat yet?’ You asked, watching him shake his head before you let out a little sigh. ‘Why not?’

‘You didn’t make me anything’

‘Oh so it’s my fault?’ You laughed, squeezing his sides playfully and watching him giggle and squirm before he nodded his head.

‘Well sort of yeah. It’s sort of your job whilst you’re here’ he winked causing you to roll your eyes but you knew he was right.

‘Fine. Just your face to do then I’ll make you something’ you smiled, applying some more cream to your fingers before awkwardly pushing your sunglasses up your face so you could get a better look at him. Thankfully for you the sun was behind you so you could see him perfectly and the sight almost took your breath away. Admiring all the tiny freckles that littered his face, the curve of his nose and the fullness of his lips. He really was beautiful and you used the excuse of putting sunscreen on his face to look at him like you never had before.

You knew he was watching you too, his bright brown eyes following you out of the corner of your eye but as soon as you tried to make eye contact, he looked down and a rosy tint began to flush over his cheeks.

‘I’ve never noticed how many freckles you have before’ you told him quietly, letting his eyes flicker up to you again before looking away. ‘They’re really pretty, I’m actually very jealous’ you whispered but before he could reply the sound of someone else’s voice caught your attention.

‘Oi Mase, why are you so red?’ Ben laughed from behind you and the fact that Ben had noticed only made it even worse. ‘Are you blushing?’

‘No, fuck off. It’s the sun’ he retorted, his hands suddenly retreating from your leg as he played with his fingers in his lap and you felt your heart sink a little bit.

‘Ben’ you suddenly heard Carly moan. Drawing his name out in disappointment followed by the sound of a gentle slap to the back of his head. ‘Will you stop it. Leave him alone’

‘What? I’m just-‘

‘No you’re being mean’

‘Come on, let me go make you something’ you smiled softly, standing up and offering him your hand even though you knew it was a bit risky but he took it anyway and let you pull him up before following you into the kitchen. ‘You want anything in particular?’

‘Whatever the chef recommends’ he winked and after a quick look in the cupboards you found everything you needed to make pancakes.

Mason sat and watched as you got everything together, asking if he could help in any way so you passed him a few bananas for him to slice up so they were ready before asking him to get the drinks ready. When you finally placed his food down in front of him he sent you the most appreciative smile and your heart thudded at his wide grin.

‘Thank you, Muffin. These look amazing’ he smiled as you put your plate down opposite him and watched him dig in. You loved waiting for Mason's reactions whenever you made him something to eat as he was always seemingly blown away and this time was no exception. Shovelling it in like he’d been starved for weeks as he let you know how good it was in between mouthfuls.

‘What’s going on here?’ You suddenly heard, turning to see Dec walking in, eyes on your plates as he licked his lips before sitting down next to you. ‘Why is he getting special treatment?’

‘He’s not’ you laughed, cheeks flushing at the thought of being found out. ‘Do you want something?’

‘No thanks, Lauren made me something earlier’ he teased whilst nicking a few blueberries from Masons plate.

‘Why are you moaning then?’ Mason laughed, moving his plate away out of Declan’s reach so he couldn’t take anymore of his food.

‘Cause that looks better than what I had’

‘You wait till I tell Lauren that. You won’t be eating for the rest of the week’ Mason teased, watching Dec’s face drop before standing up.

‘You do that, and I’ll make things difficult for you’ he scoffed before grabbing a few bottles of water out of the fridge. ‘Now hurry up you two, we need someone else for water volleyball’

‘I’ll be out in a minute, y/n can keep score’ Mason told him, sending you a quick wink as if he was acknowledging what you told him earlier and once you were both done he quickly helped you wash up before meeting them outside.

Kayla had also decided to sit this one out so you sat with her, pretending to keep score as you got to know each other a little better and you were pleased to find out how suited to Woody she was. She seemed to really care for him and when Woody jumped out the pool to grab his glasses she blushed as he placed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

‘You and Mason seem sweet together’

‘Oh we’re not together’ You told her, ‘we’re just friends’

‘Oh I’m so sorry’ she panicked, face going ever redder and she tried to hide in her hands but you just laughed which seemed to make her feel better. ‘I just assumed, thinking it was a couples holiday. That’s why I was so confused about you having separate rooms, you seem really close’

‘Its okay, we are pretty close and I think since he’s moved away i just miss him a bit more than usual. It’s nice to be with him again for more than a couple of hours’

‘Oh trust me, Woody doesn’t shut up about him and then every Tuesday at 8pm on the dot they have their little weekly facetime. Sometimes I think I should be worried’

‘You should speak to Lauren about that’ you laughed, watching Mason try and climb on Ben's shoulders so he could reach higher for the ball. ‘I think she’s genuinely worried Dec might leave her for him one day’

After another 20 minutes or so everyone was ready to get out, Woody stealing Kayla away to their own lounger and you’d noticed Mason had sunk down on the one you’d been occupying earlier. His eyes caught yours straight away as he called you back over so you gathered up your things to go and sit by him again.

‘Mase you’re all wet’ you complained as you got there, walking round to his side so you were further away from Carly and Ben and hopefully out of ear shot before watching him shake his hair like a dog as he sent you a lopsided smile.

‘It’s alright, I’ll dry. I wondered if you fancied that nap you spoke about earlier?’ He asked and you couldn’t deny him. Placing your things down on the floor but he was quick to stop you before you tried to lay down. His hand on your thigh to cease your movements causing you to look down at him in confusion. ‘I have conditions, and those are that those shorts and that shirt need to come off’ he told you quietly. Fingers dancing over the backs of your legs as he teased you but you figured two could play at that game.

‘You wish is my command’ you laughed, stepping back and away from him so you could remove the open shirt off your arms before unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs so you were just left in your white bikini. ‘That better?’

‘Perfect’ he smiled, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he looked you up and down before helping you back onto the lounger. He wasn’t sat down for long though, quickly getting up to pull the umbrella over you so you could both be out of the direct sunlight and you smiled to yourself at the thoughtful gesture. ‘I’ll try and have a think about what I want for lunch next’ he teased, laying beside you as you turned to face each other.

‘Hey Mase, why don’t I have a FaceTime time slot?’

‘What are you on about?’

‘Kayla told me you and Woody facetime every Tuesday at 8 and I bet Dec and Ben have a slot. Where’s mine?’ You teased, watching his face hide in the pillow as he laughed before facing you again with a wide smile.

‘I can add you to the rota. I’ll have my receptionist send over my availability’ he teased but you just rolled your eyes before turning onto your back.

‘Very funny’ you huffed, shutting your eyes as you could feel them becoming heavy but the feeling of Mason's pinkie linking yours made your heart thud and when you opened an eye to look at him he was still on his side but his eyes were shut.

You woke up a little while later pressed up against something warm but soft. Opening your eyes to find yourself laying on Mason's chest with your arm across his waist whilst he rested his hand on your back, dangerously close to your bum.

‘You make sure you’re behaving, Mason’ you whispered, noticing he wasn’t fully asleep and the little chuckle that fell from his lips let you know he’d heard you.

‘I always am’ he smiled. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead as his fingers danced just above the waistline of your bikini bottoms. ‘You’re not a bad sight to wake up to, Muffin’

‘Gee, thanks Mase’ you laughed, attempting to move but he didn’t let you. Holding you tighter to him as he trapped your leg in his and you knew better than to try and escape.

‘Don’t go, I’m comfy’ he breathed so you stayed where you were even though you knew it was risky but by the looks of it everyone else was asleep too so you basked in the feel of him while everyone else napped around the pool.

After you’d made Mason some lunch, you topped up his sun cream and he offered to help you with yours. Your skin tingling as his hands massaged you slightly and you had to bite your lip so you didn’t start laughing.

You and the rest of the girls went off to get dressed early, going all out tonight and the four of you were in the upstairs sitting room so you could do your makeup together before you popped downstairs to slip your outfit on. You hadn’t got dressed up like this in a while and you couldn’t wait to see Mason's reaction to your frilly lemon two piece that was showing off your tan perfectly.

The plan was to meet in the kitchen at seven so at two minutes too, you grabbed your bag and made your way out of your room. Just as you closed the door behind you, Masons opened. Standing there dressed in cargos and a baggy blue button up but his face was a picture. Eyes wide as they scanned your body fully but it was his tongue nearly falling out of his mouth that made you laugh.

‘Do I look alright?’ You asked, giving him a little twirl but the shuddery breath he let out told you all you needed to know.

‘Are you joking? I’m an actual dead man. Have your worn this just to taunt me?’’

‘No, I just thought it looked cute’

‘Well that’s one word for it’ he breathed, letting you walk in front before he gripped your hips and placed a kiss behind your ear. ‘I think yellow might be my new favourite colour’

‘Come on Mase keep your hands to yourself’ you chuckled, a tingle heading straight down your spine at the feel of his lips on your skin and you were hoping there would be more where that came from later.

‘How can I? I know what you’ve got hiding under here now’ he teased but he slowed down on the stairs so it looked like the pair of you weren’t too close.

Once you were out for dinner, Mason sat next to you again and his arm was back around your chair as you all casually chatted amongst yourselves. Laughing and joking as the boys told stories from camps and all the adventures they’d been on and you felt so full of happiness to be there with them enjoying moments like this.

You’d known it all day, but you were so thankful for Mason and his kindness. You knew you wouldn’t be here without him and you were having the best time so when you caught his eye and he sent you a wink, you had to hold yourself to your seat so you didn’t lean over and kiss him.

The club you were all going to wasn’t far and all the girls led the way with the boys trailing behind and it’s like you could feel Mason's eyes on your bum. Feeling his hand on your shoulder as you neared the entrance so he could lead the way in and over to your reserved table.

Carly ordered your drinks, four pornstar martinis showing up a little while after for all the girls as well as a few bottles of some sort of spirit the boys had ordered and you made it your mission to let loose tonight. Accepting as many shots that were thrown your way, even pouring them straight into Carly’s mouth at one point until Mason cut you off for a little bit and even though you sent him a pout you knew he was just looking out for you.

You were buzzed enough to join the girls for a dance, thankfully not being touched up by any random men this time so you could finally let go. Not caring about what you looked like or who was even looking at you in the first place. Just you and your girls having the time of your lives.

You had to take a break eventually, running out of steam so you plonked on a table in your section and Mason appeared as if by magic with a glass of water ready for you.

‘You’re a lifesaver, thank you Mase’ you gasped, gulping the whole glass down as he looked at you with a funny look in his eye.

‘That’s alright, Muffin. You having a good time?’

‘I really am. Honestly thank you so much Mason, I’ll never be able to repay you or say thank you enough for letting me come here’

‘Don’t be silly. You belong here with us’ he teased, bumping his shoulder into yours playfully but you knew he was just feeling a little shy.

He sat with you for the next 15 minutes or so, talking about the boat trip tomorrow and if you were going to be okay on there. Promising if you didn’t like it he’d get you off and you could spend the day on the beach together but you let him know you’d be fine and you were excited as long as you stayed in the middle.

‘Hey Mase, come join the boys’ you suddenly heard Dec shout from not too far away but Mason just scoffed at him.

‘I’m fine here’

‘Mate come on’

‘I’ll come in a minute, I’m in the middle of a conversation’

‘Look mate I’m not gonna lie, you’re ruining my plans’ Dec told him seriously but you both looked back at him unsure as to what he meant. ‘How are we supposed to find y/n a shag when you won’t leave her alone’

‘Dec I’m not here looking for a shag thank you very much’ you laughed. ‘This trip is supposed to be about us spending time together’

‘Yeah yeah whatever, I’ve made it my mission to get you a man’

‘Dec, I don’t need your help’

‘Sure you do now come on, who’s got your eye’

‘I’m not having this conversation with you’ you laughed as Mason finally stood up.

‘I’ll take one for the team and go with him’ Mason laughed, squeezing your thigh gently but as you looked up to Dec you knew he’d seen so Mason quickly scurried away to go and sit with the other guys.

‘I’ve got my eye on you’

‘What do you mean? What have I done now?’

‘I’m not sure yet, but I’m watching you’

The girls were back soon, coming to sit with you so you could order more drinks and take silly selfies before joining the boys again. Noticing Mason was standing just off to the side on the phone and you wondered who he was speaking to before he walked back over, rolling his eyes.

‘Mase? Everything okay?’ Carly asked but he just let out a huff before speaking.

‘No the bloody security alarms going off in the villa. They’ve tried turning it off remotely but they need someone to put a code in. It’s fine it’s not loud or anything and they said it can wait but I’d feel better if I sorted it out. I’ll pop back there now it won’t take me a sec’

‘I’ll come with you, just to be safe’ you offered and even though you could see him trying to hide a smile you knew it would take some convincing.

‘You don’t have to’

‘No these shoes are killing me, I can change them while we’re there’ you replied and that seemed enough for him.

The house wasn’t far away and it was a nice night so you suggested walking, only making it two streets before your shoes became unbearable and Mason noticed straight away.

‘Shall we just get a cab?’ He laughed, pulling his phone out before you even answered but you were grateful for his suggestion. Popping yourself down on the wall next to the pavement so you take them off and the sympathetic smile he was giving you made your heart melt.

‘I’m wearing flats the rest of this week’ you huffed, looking up to find Mason taking a picture of you but he just shrugged when you raised your brow at him.

‘You look cute tonight’ he winked, popping his phone back in his pocket before taking a seat next to you and you knew you were blushing. ‘Cab shouldn’t be much longer’

‘Thanks’ you nodded, pulling your phone out and taking a picture of him unaware and when the flash made him look up you sent him a wink. ‘What? You look cute tonight’

‘Very funny’ he rolled his eyes, before holding his hand out for you to take. Pulling you flush into his side so he could wrap his arm around you. ‘Can I ask you something? About this morning?’

‘Of course, what’s up?’ You asked, unsure of what he wanted to talk about but he seemed a little shy about it.

‘Are you okay? You know after this morning when you were a bit upset? I know you said you needed a nap but I just wanted to make sure you’re fine’ he explained, your heart melting at his concern for you but you knew you’d have to be honest with him now. ‘I know I keep saying it but it really is fine if you don’t wanna carry on-‘

‘No mase, that wasn’t it’ you laughed, resting your hand on his thigh and he smiled at the gesture.

‘What was it then? You can tell me, even if it was me. I just want you to be comfortable with everything’

‘I am, I promise. I just… you said something last night and I couldn’t stop overthinking it but I realised earlier I was being silly and it’s fine. You’ve done nothing Mase, I promise’

‘What did I say?’

‘I’m gonna sound ridiculous’

‘That’s okay, you normally do but I’ve learnt to just go with it’ he joked and you playfully scoffed as he tickled your side.

‘Thanks Mase’

‘I’m kidding, please tell me’

‘Last night, you said you like to keep your customers happy. I don’t know it just felt weird being referred to as a customer of yours and I know that makes no sense but-‘

‘No, it does. Sorry I shouldn't have said that I was just trying to be funny’ he told you, rolling his eyes. ‘I’m sorry Muffin, I didn’t mean anything by it’

‘I know you didn’t, and I didn’t mean to have a strop, like I felt awful for how I spoke to you’

‘Let’s just forget about it yeah’ he laughed, placing a kiss to your forehead but wished he’d kissed somewhere else. ‘But if I say something stupid again just tell me’

‘I will’ you laughed, squeezing his thigh gently. ‘And if I have a strop again please just ignore me’

‘I’ll try. You’re pretty hard to ignore though, Muffin. Especially dressed like this’

You didn’t have time to say anything else, the taxi pulling up and you both jumped in the back seat so you could take the short journey back and before long Mason was carrying you on his back up to the door.

‘I’ll call the people, you change your shoes and we’ll head back, sound good?’

‘Yes sir’ you winked, watching his eyes nearly rolling back in his head at your words.

‘Fuck, don’t do that’ he groaned, laughing as you ran away from him before he could reach for you but the growl that left his lips gave you butterflies.

‘Behave, Mason’ you told him, trying to give him a cheeky smirk. ‘Go sort the alarm and I’ll meet you in a sec like we promised’

You were just pulling on your left shoe when Mason knocked on your open door, turning to find him leaning against the frame with a sweet smile on his face

‘Alarms off’

‘Perfect, I’m good to go now too’

‘You want me to get us a cab back?’

You didn’t have a chance to reply, your phone ringing as you walked out into the hallway to stand by him and as you took it out of your bag you saw Carly calling.

‘Hey, you alright? We’re just leaving now’

‘Yeah good, don't worry about coming back if you don’t want to. Woody is feeling a little fragile so him and Kayla are heading back and we’ll follow shortly. The boys just want to finish their drinks so give us about 40/45 minutes and we’ll be back’

‘Oh okay’ you breathed, looking up at Mason's confused face but the fact you now had some alone time made you smile, much to his confusion. ‘In that case, I think I’m gonna have a shower and head straight to bed then but I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?’

‘Yeah I think we’ll all do the same’ she replied and after a quick goodbye you popped your phone back in your bag before wrapping your arms around Mason's neck.

‘Woodys not well. He’s on the way back with Kayla but we’ve got about 40 minutes until the others get back’

‘Oh really?’ He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he backed you up against the doorframe to your room. ‘You know now that we’re here, we could use this time to our advantage’

‘Oh yeah?’ You teased, running your fingers through the back of his hair as his face got dangerously close to yours. ‘You know I was thinking of taking a shower’

‘Funnily enough so was i’

‘Maybe we could share one? Save water and all that’ you offered, causing him to squeeze your sides playfully.

‘You’re a very smart woman you know’ he winked but he didn’t give you a chance to reply, kissing you with a moan as he tried to back you into your room, kicking the door shut behind him so he could press you up against it. ‘God I hate this no kissing rule. I’ve wanted to do that all day’ he confessed, whispering his words against your neck before pushing himself off of you slightly. ‘Wanted to take this off you all night too’ he mumbled, reaching for your skirt and not caring to look at how to undo it, so you pushed him off with a laugh so you could get it off without ripping it.

‘Well calm down, this was expensive’ you laughed, blushing from his words and how needed he seemed for you but you were just as needy for him too so you carefully unzipped the back and pulled it off before doing the same with the top. Thanking your lucky stars that you remembered to put one of your new underwear sets on and you could see him practically drooling at the sight of you in your strapless lacy set.

‘You’re the biggest tease I’ve ever met in my life’ he breathed, pulling you into his still fully dressed frame and as you let out a little giggle he captured your lips again in a hungry kiss. Feeling his hands dip into the top of your underwear and grip you bum tightly as you moaned into his mouth and you swore you could have stayed there kissing him forever but you didn’t want to wait any longer for him. Reaching to the collar of his shirt so you could start undoing the buttons before trailing your fingers up his body and under the shoulders so you could push it off of him. Feeling him shiver under your touch but he just pulled you closer afterwards so he could feel your warm skin on his.

You were frantic, pulling away from him so you could focus on unbuttoning his trousers but he didn’t seem to want his lips to part from you. Kissing all over your neck and shoulders as you finally pushed them down his hips and to the floor before he hugged your thighs and threw you over his shoulder so he could take you into the bathroom and you squealed as he lifted you. Holding onto him wherever you could before he popped you down and shut the door behind him. Making sure to lock it just in case someone came in on the off chance.

The pair of you quickly rid yourselves of your underwear and walked behind the glass. Giggling like kids as you took each other in your arms so you could pick up where you left off outside the bathroom before Mason broke away, fiddling with the shower panel to make it come on so you used this time to kiss over his chest. Sneakily leaving a little love bite by his nipple before you felt his fingers thread through the back of your hair so he could tug you away and his dark eyes made your knees weak as he tutted softly.

‘Thats naughty’ he whispered, lips attaching to your jaw so he could kiss along up to your ear. ‘Turn around for me’

You did as he asked, turning away from him and walking towards the shower wall as he held your back and walked with you. Propping your hands on the shower wall as he pressed you right up against it, your head turning to the side so you could just about see him over your shoulder before his lips came to your ear.

‘Good girl, that’s it’ he mumbled, placing his knee between your thighs so he could inch them apart. One hand gripping your bum and the other grabbed hold of himself so he could guide himself in. ‘You ready for me?’

‘P-please Masey’ you breathed, hearing him groan one final time before he pushed himself in gently. Knowing there wasn’t much foreplay involved so he needed to take his time but the stretch of him felt delicious. Moaning louder than you’d intended to but the slow movement of his hips were speeding up by the second until he was pounding into you. Your back pressed firmly against his front as he laid some of his weight on you whilst his hands reached round to grab your chest. Slowly kneading your flesh before you felt his teeth ever so slightly sink into your shoulder.

‘M-Mase, fuck that’s so good’ you panted, wanting to grip onto something more tangible as you fingers were slipping on the wet shower walls so you reached behind you to grab onto him and the feeling of your hand on his lower back made him plough into you even harder.

‘Arch your back for me, Muffin’ he asked, pulling your hips away from the wall and with him a step, forcing you to stick your bum even higher in the air before his hand came to hold your waist so he could control you a bit more. ‘That's it’

‘Mase’ you whimpered, this new angle hitting even better. Feeling your knees almost give out but his strong grip was holding you up as he used your body how he wished.

‘You can take it, I know you can’ he panted, the sounds of skin slapping in skin making your brain go foggy but you knew you’d never felt like this before. ‘God you feel so fucking good’

You had no idea Mason had the power to be like this with you, to be rough with his touches yet make you tingle with his praise. You wanted to be good for him, to take what he wanted to give you and make him feel good too and from the way he was moaning and groaning behind you you had a feeling he was enjoying it just as much.

You were close, closer than you wanted to be as you were enjoying this far too much and he must have felt it as he slowed down ever so slightly before pulling out of you and spinning you so your back now pressed against the tiles.

Your eyes followed his every move, letting him hook your leg over his arm so you were more easily accessible before he was pushing back into you. Your hands settling on his shoulders so you could support yourself as his free hand held your waist.

He was taking things much slower this way round. Gently rocking himself in and out of you but you weren’t sure if this pace was better or worse for you as you felt your high build once more.

‘You’re doing so good, I can feel you wanna cum though so just let go for me okay?’

‘Okay’ you whispered, letting him pick his speed up again and it didn’t take much more for you to be tipped over the edge. Moaning his name as he still went at you relentlessly until you felt his hips stutter, a string of curse words falling from his lips before he slumped against you slightly so you could both get your breath back.

‘Was I too much? I was still thinking about you calling me sir just before and I think I just went a little crazy’ he laughed in your ear, pulling out of you with a hiss so he could pull you straight into his arms and under the running water. Your heart thumping at his sweet gesture.

‘No mase, I liked it’ you laughed, holding him around his waist as he did the same to you and you couldn’t help but mirror his shy smile.

‘As long as you’re sure?’

‘Positive’ you winked before he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You didn’t spend long in there, quickly getting washed and out before meeting Mason in the main part of the bathroom where he was sitting on the closed lid of your loo. Beckoning you over to come and stand in between his legs but as soon as your hands made contact with his skin you knew something was off.

‘Mase, your shoulders look a bit pink’ you told him. His skin feeling hot to the touch and he slightly winced as you stroked his skin.

‘Yeah they feel a little weird I think I’m a bit burnt’

‘Stay there, I’ll put some after sun on for you’ you told him. Reaching for the bottle on the side so you could apply it but you felt bad as soon as he flinched when the cold cream hit his skin so you rubbed it in as soon as possible. Feeling his muscles relax under your fingers as you massaged him slightly before he looked up at you with his big brown eyes.

‘What’s all that stuff up there?’ He asked, nodding to the shelf under your mirror and you smiled when you caught onto what he was referring to.

‘My skincare’

‘Why do you have so much?’

‘We weren’t all blessed with clear and baby soft skin like you unfortunately’ you teased, tapping the end of his nose lightly which caused him to blush. ‘Would you like to try some?’

‘Okay’ he whispered, watching you with curious eyes as you applied various creams and serums to his face. His hands holding the backs of your legs the whole time and when you were done you pressed a light kiss to the end of his nose without even thinking.

‘All done’ you smiled, taking a step back to you could reach for the after sun and start to apply it to yourself but he took it from your hand and stood behind you. Massaging it into your shoulders as you caught eyes in the mirror in front of you.

‘Do you think we need to tone it down a bit?’ You asked, picking up your cleanser so you could start on your own skincare. ‘I don’t want anyone to suspect anything and I’m pretty sure Dec’s picking up on some vibes’

‘I’ll tell him to back off, don’t worry’ he laughed, hands smoothing over your skin still even though the after sun was all rubbed in. ‘Plus if we go too far the other way they’ll be suspicious too’

‘I guess you’re right’ you shrugged, Turing in his arms after applying the last of your moisturiser before covering your face with your hands so he didn't see you yawn.

‘Aww is my little Muffin sleepy’ he teased

‘It’s been a long day’ you defended with a light laugh so hand in hand he walked you to your bedroom door and with a quick kiss to your forehead he walked across the hallway to his room opposite.

‘Oh wait’ he suddenly called, just over the threshold of his room and by the time you looked up he’d removed the towel from his body and was standing there completely naked. ‘You can have this back’ he laughed, throwing it in your direction and thankfully it landed on your head so you couldn’t see him anymore but you heard the door click and the sounds of his muffled laughter ringing through the halls.

y/n

liked by masonmount, laurenfryer_, woody_ and others

y/n yellow to make the boys say hello 💛

view more comments

declanrice yeah right you wouldn’t leave our side let alone say hello to anyone. I know your game

y/n wow sorry for wanting to spend time with my friends 🙄 won’t bother next time

laurenfryer_ don’t listen to him girl 😩 we’ve got the whole week to find you a man 😉

masonmount who’s that handsome devil in the last picture?

y/n no idea, I don’t see one

benchilwell I don’t either

woody_ neither do I

masonmount ☹️

okaylaaa girly you look delectable 🤭 like a little lemon cupcake I’m living

y/n SAYS YOU 🥹 you’re actually the cutest

conorgallagher92 Mason I think that shirts a little too big mate

masonmount it’s called fashion

y/n if you say so

conorgallagher92 good to see you in blue 😉

carlywlms_ my beautiful bestie 🥹 so excited for our week together like you don’t understand 🩷

y/n trust me I think I might be more excited than you 😭

masonsprivate hello

y/n 👋🏻🙊

Tagged: @footiehoemcfc @prideofpd @yoursselo @chelseachilly @willow-writer-ivy @mm-vii @katharinanadiaa @mmountseb @carlottawllms @saltyheartnightmare @masonmtxo @harvestmount @chillymountsjess @treblebluesblog @pulisicsgirl @bluesswift @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps

[vixensbrainrotts]

Committed to you (part 2) - Manjiro <Mikey> Sano

Content: part two to Committed to you (read here)

Summary: After vigorous brainstorming and planning, Mikey can finally propose to you in the City of Lights.

Vixen's two cents: Thank you so much for the support on the first part- quite a few people ended up wanting a second part so who was I to deny them? I had so many ideas writing this, I hope this isn't too all over the place... now let's see how Mikey does it... enjoy!

It took Mikey and co. a short month to put together the perfect trip around Europe, the time slot falling into early summer- perfect for sightseeing and splurging tourism. With the help of Emma’s expertise in pretty places and things, and Ken’s keen eye for price, the three of them ended up with a perfect booking schedule. The request was sent, the confirmation received, and the bills paid, which rendered the trip ready to go.

The only part that was missing was you. Mikey had yet to surprise you.

That was his current mission as he sat on the couch, thinking deeply about how he was going to present this. You were coming home in less than 15 minutes- not enough time to make or order a cake, not enough time to set up a big confetti-filled explosion, not enough time to make a song to serenade you with… What to do?

Mikey glanced at the clock again, eyes widening when he realized that two minutes had passed already! He ran a stressed hand through his hair and centered himself for a moment and reminded himself to think… what could he do? What is he doing?

That’s right. You and him- eight weeks- Europe. Now he just has to tell you all about it, and hopefully not spoil his plans of proposing to you whilst he’s at it. What to do, what to do…

-

Coming home from work you were very much ready for the coming week off. It was a regular Wednesday, on which nothing special or specific happened but it tired you out nonetheless. Unlocking the door with a swift jangle of your keys, you tossed them on the little tray at the side of the entrance, taking off and hanging your coat in the same move. Kicking off your shoes you sighed a bit at the relief.

“Jiro?” You called, a bit confused that he hadn’t come to you yet. Normally he would have been with you by now, at least shouting a quick welcome when he heard you come in (which he surely had). You took your purse with you towards the living room where you hoped to find him. When you stepped into the room however, your eyes nearly popped out of your skull. “Mikey?”

He stood in the middle of the living room next to two of the largest travel suitcases you owned, dressed in a layered Ralph Lauren Pullover overtop of a dress shirt, the tails hanging out sloppily from the bottom and the collar half-unfurled. Atop his head sat a beret, your beret you noted, taken that he didn't own any, and your eyes drifted to his face, jaw hanging open. On his face was a heavy streak of sunscreen over the middle of his nose and across both cheeks and a very scraggly moustache was drawn onto his upper lip, probably with your eyeliner. Safe to say that he looked absolutely ridiculous, if not even a bit cute.

"Oh my god, Mikey what-" you started but he interrupted you, apparently springing to life with an almost rehearsed poise. "Ohhhh mon amourrrr~~" He purred from where he stood, putting on a heavy French accent and hollowing his cheeks to make his face seem slimmer. "Would-eh you like to accompany me around the world-eh of the Cheri Europé?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you for good measure and gestured to the luggage. "Do not worry dearest, all your circumstances have been cared for you, all that you must do is comply to my affections."

Your grip on the purse loosened and you felt it slip out of your grasp, falling to the floor as your hands cupped your smiling face. "What? Mikey, I only have a week off and-" He cut you off again, not even letting you finish thinking the sentence as he came in closer to you, circling his arms around your waist and pulling your body to his with a firm tug. "I said, all your circumstances have been attended." He mumbled as he stooped his head down into the crook of your neck and reigned a tiny little assault of affection of the skin, making you laugh heartily.

"Mikey! Oh my- Wait! Stop! I-" You laughed, looking into his eyes properly when he finally pulled away. "Really?" You asked, letting the prospect set in your mind, and you found yourself giddy just thinking about it. A vacation to Europe of all places? What a dream!

"Yes really. Eight weeks, you and me, all of the prettiest places in Europe. Unless you don't want to, in which case I don't know what I'd do because we'd be flying tonight."

-

That's how you found yourself packing in an almost childish joy, despite being rushed by the short notice, and then driving to the airport on a Wednesday afternoon to catch a flight to Sweden, Stockholm, where you found your tour would be starting. You had tried to press Mikey for more details about where you'd be headed, but he wouldn't give any information.

Whilst this annoyed you greatly, in retrospect you were almost thankful that he chose to do it this way, surprising you with new places and sights every time you travelled across boarders.

Down the Scandinavians- Sweden, Norway, and the Netherlands, where you took about a million pictures of landscapes, wildlife, and urban and rural heaven, and even got to observe northern lights on a warm summer night.

A short detour to London, watching theatre performances and standup comedians, visiting the Palace and Big Ben, and strolling through Central Park before continuing through Belgium where you tasted a million different sweets, and even got to attend a chocolatier course- courtesy of Mikey's planning.

All in all the past three-and-some weeks had been perfect. Now the two of you are situated in France, Paris, with a quaint little AirBnB that has a wonderful view of the Eifel Tower.

Speaking of, that was tonight's destination after a ride over the Seine.

Mikey offered you a hand as you stepped off the boat, thanking the helmsman with a quick "Merci!" as you turned to face him again. "That was wonderful, I would have never thought that the Seine was so long!" you gushed to Mikey, holding onto his arm as he started guiding you away from the docks and towards the direction of the Eifel tower.

The two of you chatted up about nothing on the way, you hung pretty off Mikey's arm, mindlessly telling him about something wish he could focus on, but something very specific kept him from it.

He could feel his heart start beating harder as the two of you got closer to the place and as the clock ticked on closer to the time. The very then and there he had promised himself he would do it.

His hands felt clammy in the pockets of his shorts, one hand fingering at the paper that contained the entire speech written out, just in case he completely blanked and forgot. His other hand was occupied half opening and closing the smooth, black silk box that sat pretty in his palm.

"But in the end, who are we to judge, right?" you seemingly finished your thought, looking up at him expectantly. Mikey's eyes widened a tad as he realized that he hadn't been listening to you at all, way too worried about.. other things... so he opted for the tactical agreeing head nod, even mumbling a soft "yeah" to make himself seem more convincing.

You, however- always the observant type- noticed his slightly off behavior. "You alright, love?" you asked him, turning to face him completely to make eye contact. Mikey felt himself flush in the cheeks a little, shrinking into his polo shirt. "Yeah, yeah don't worry. Maybe I'm a little low on sugar or something..." he drifted, half-smoothly saving the situation.

"Oh," you state, concerned, as you check your purse for something and then scan the nearby area. "Well, how about you sit down and I'll go buy some crepe from that stand over there? There are some benches over there, maybe you can grab us a seat in time for the glittering to start."

Pleasantly surprised at your offer, Mikey nods and goes to find the most aesthetically pleasing bench he can find, giving him a few crucial moments to prepare himself. Breathing deeply he runs his finger over the slit of the silk box again, rehearsing the words one last time before he fumbled his hands to his back pockets, pulling out his phone.

"Oh, please propose to her in front of the Eifel Tower! Or the Coliseum! Or on some romantic Bridge in Venice!" Emma swooned and held her hands over her chest, hearts in her eyes.

Mikey smiled at her and nodded again. "I'll try and film it if I can."

Mikey remembers the moment not much of a month ago and smiles down at his Lock Screen: an image of you blowing kisses at him through a mirror when you were getting ready for your ninth anniversary this year.

Nine years strong, through thick and thin but always side by side. Fierce loyalty and fierce love, and finally he would put a ring on it.

Snapping out of it before he lost too much time reminiscing he set up the camera in an appropriate angle against the back of the bench. checking himself in the reflection one last time before he was satisfied, he chose the "video" option and hit the red record button as he heard your footsteps approach again.

This is it Manjiro. Dont fuck it up.

He turned to face you again as you walked closer, the promised crepe in your hands as you smiled widely at him. "Im back!" you chirped, clearly excited by the soon-to-be world-famous sparkling of the Eifel Tower.

"Hey Baby." Mikey replied and took the sweet teat from you as you presented it to him, laying it on the bench on some napkins out of sight of the phone. Before you could say anything he turned back to you and grabbed both your hands with his, looking straight into your confused eyes.

"Listen, you don't get how long I've been trying to do this for, and the adventures I've been on trying to make this all happen. I owe a few people a real number as thanks, and I hope that I can make this even half as special as I envisioned it being..." He breathed for a second, collecting himself one last time and making sure that his voice was working all the way.

"Since we were fifteen it's been you and I, since we've been eighteen we've lived together, and since we've been twenty-one I've been wanting to do this.

I want to honor you, and how you've supported me with nothing but unconditional love for all this time, and I want to thank you for all the things you've stuck with me through. Good and bad you didn't falter, and even at the worst of times, when I was spent and exhausted, I watched you fight for our love; for us.

I think that's one of the things that I admire about you the most. One of the things I fell in love with you because and one of the things I love you for now. You're incredibly strong and you're not afraid to fight for what you think is right, not to mention your unconditional beauty.

Time and time again you sweep me off my feet in worlds of wonder and awe, and I hope that I've lived up to that on this trip, and I vow to live up to you in the future.

Let me sweep you off your feet, dearest. Let me be your one, and let me honor you."

You fought hard to keep tears at bay, hands having risen to cover your mouth as you stared at him. Nerves were tingling in your entire body as if there was liquid glitter running through your veins. Your breathing hitched as you watched Manjiro sink onto one knee and produce a little box from his pocket in one swift movement.

"Will you marry me?"

He presents the open box to you, allowing you to look at what had to be the most perfect ring ever. White gold, diamond-encrusted excellence shined back at you from the satin-lined box, glinting and sparkling even by the sheerest reflection of light.

It didn't take you long for you to respond, nodding violently against your hands, locked in the moment as you cried "Yes!", tears slipping down the planes of your cheeks.

What seemed to be inconspicuous onlookers erupted into a small applause, some whistling and hollering celebrating the proposal as the world slowed down for just a moment. Your hands came to wrap around Mikey as he kneeled on the floor, pressing his head into your chest as you pressed your nose into the crown of his head. Mikey's arms tighten around your waist as you feel him tremble against you, his hands shaky as they grip your blouse.

The world around you started twinkling, bathing you both in a flashy bask as the Monument behind you started glittering behind you. When you pulled away, Mikey's face was streaked in tears, his nose a little red.

Puling his hands from around you he presented you with the box again. "I wanna.." he started, carefully plucking the ring from its pollster, "Lemme..". You caught on and gave him your left hand, letting his shaky hands hold yours as he pushed the ring down on your finger, admiring it on your hand.

He kissed the back of your hand looked up at you and whispered "I love you." Entranced, you leaned down to him and held his face in his hands, allowing his hands to rest on your hips as you whispered back "I love you too." and locked lips with him.

A thousand words were left unspoken as the two of you exchanged affection through the kiss. The gentle caress of skin on skin sending waterfalls of warmth down your body, the sensation spreading from your chest down to your feet and all the way up to your head, a dizzying lightness replacing every thought you had beforehand.

When you two pulled away and shared the ever-lasting lover's gaze, you pulled Mikey to his feet again and fell into his arms. "Thank you Manji, this is so special." you mumble into his chest and squeeze him a little for good measure.

Mikey laughed breathlessly and ran a hand over his face, wiping the tears as he collected himself with a sniffle again. "No problem Baby. It had to beg it was all this or nothing, no joke there." Mikey's hands raked over your back soothingly, holding you against him as he looked over to the glittering tower, gently rocking the both of you back and forth silently as you both admired the twinkling lights.

"We still have that Crepe to eat, you know?" Mikey teased once the glittering ceased, remembering both the treat and the phone which was still recording.

You huffed a silent giggle and pulled away from him. "Yeah, I think we need some sugar right now."

Side by side you two shared the treat, nuzzling impossibly closer to one another despite the hot summer temperatures when Mikey put an arm around your shoulder.

Side by side you two fell asleep together later that night, cradling another dearly, deeply tangled in the sheets as your breathing patterns aligned, and your heartbeats worked in perfect synchronization.

Side by side you two stood at the altar a longer while later, exchanging vows and words of love, "yes"-sing another and kissing, now married, bound to one another indefinitely.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 4

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

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Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

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After a half-hearted attempt to watch the tennis tournament, you, Hugo, and Eddie retreated for afternoon tea.

"Me? The criminal organization in this country want me?" you asked incredulously.

Eddie nodded, casually adding sugar to his tea, with Hugo mimicking his actions. "They're still trying to figure out who you are. They won't ask Barnes since they despise him. They've made inquiries, but your identity remains a mystery to them, given your recent arrival."

"What about you, Eddie?" you inquired.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he sipped his tea. "Hmm?"

"Why didn't you expose me to them?" you clarified.

Eddie set down his cup, meeting your gaze directly. "And let them exploit your expertise? You're too valuable for that, my dear."

The endearment caught you off guard, evoking memories of summers spent at Manor with Eddie's parents, particularly his mother, who often referred to you as "My Dear" during afternoon tea. But when Eddie used the term, it carried a different weight.

Eddie continued, "I faced a similar situation last year. This organization is far more dangerous than most people realize, even those at the UN dealing with cross-border issues."

"True," you agreed, contemplating the chaos of the criminal underworld. "The real zoo is here. But what about your organization?"

"My cannabis business remains neutral in conflicts," Eddie explained. "Even in our silence, there are those who seek to undermine us."

He paused, then offered, "If you want to join forces, you could. You could easily settle the debt."

The air hung heavy with the implications of his proposition, the tension palpable as you considered the possibilities.

"No," you interjected firmly.

Hugo finally joined the conversation, shooting Eddie a defiant glare. "My dad paid a high price to cut ties with cannabis."

You were surprised by Hugo's sudden assertiveness, especially considering his awareness of Rupert's dealings.

Eddie chuckled, unfazed by Hugo's challenge. "I could see you as a Duke in the future."

But before the tension could escalate further, another voice cut in, catching you off guard.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Are you cheating on me in broad daylight?"

You tensed at the sound of Bucky's voice, turning to find him standing beside your table, impeccably dressed in Ralph Lauren, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

"Can't I have a day without seeing your face?" you retorted, unable to hide your irritation.

Bucky feigned injury, clutching his chest dramatically. "Ouch."

Eddie intervened, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What are you doing here, Barnes?"

"I wanted to try tea time. Felt like a royal for a change, but the cake tasted like shit," Bucky quipped, oblivious to the disapproving looks from nearby tables and the waitress.

"Well, I just wanted to say hello and meet the Duke of Horniman. Say hi from me to Bobby Glass, will you?" Bucky continued, his smirk never faltering.

Eddie's smile turned sour. "I won't."

"Great," Bucky replied casually, turning his attention to you. "Wait for my call, Your Grace."

You responded with a curt, "Fuck off."

Hugo nearly choked on his drink at your blunt retort, while Eddie struggled to contain his laughter.

Unfazed by your harsh words, Bucky simply bowed and took his leave.

Eddie glanced at you, his expression sympathetic. "I can see what you're dealing with."

As you drove back to the manor with Hugo, his voice interrupted the tense atmosphere inside the car. "Can we switch our ride?"

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong with this one?"

Hugo's enthusiasm was palpable as he explained, "My buddies have got green cars, red cars, even yellow ones. And get this - their car doors pop up like wings when they open!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his excitement. Seeing him like this, he seemed more like a kid dreaming of his favorite toy.

If Rupert weren't neck-deep in debt, you'd have no qualms about splurging on Hugo's dream car. But for now, you couldn't bear to crush his hopes. "Yeah, sure. Once we're done here, we'll get you one."

As you drove back to the manor with Hugo, you delved into a conversation about Rupert's work.

"You know a little about Rupert's work?" you inquired, curious about your stepfather's business.

Hugo nodded thoughtfully. "All I know is, dad wanted to quit the cannabis business because of Charles."

His mention of Charles brought a warning to mind. "Don't ask anything about weed with Bro Charles," he cautioned.

"Why?" you asked, intrigued by the sudden seriousness in Hugo's tone.

Hugo shook his head solemnly. "Ask Mom or Charlotte."

"Fine," you conceded, understanding the need for caution.

Upon your return to Evergreen Manor, you inquired about your mother's whereabouts from the butler. Learning that Susan was out shopping with friends, you sighed in frustration. With no one else to turn to, you realized you would have to seek answers from Charlotte.

Entering the living room, you spotted Charlotte engaged in a live conversation with her followers. It was clear she was preoccupied. "This will take a while," you muttered to yourself, bracing for what lay ahead.

Four hours later, Charlotte's hostility lingered as she addressed your inability to come to a conclusion on your own.

"Can't you figure it out on your own?" she snapped, arms crossed tightly as if she couldn't bear to share the same air as you.

You sighed, bracing yourself for another round of her disdain. "No, I can't. I've been out of touch with everyone for the past 15 years," you admitted, resigned to the reality of your isolation.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Charlotte gestured for you to follow her. You trailed behind her to the barns, where an out-of-place container caught your eye.

As Charlotte swung the door open, a wave of nausea washed over you as the unmistakable scent of weed filled the air.

"Weed," you muttered, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.

"Dad was making extra money with this, but he wanted out because of Charles," Charlotte explained, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"Why?" you pressed, eager to understand the full extent of the situation.

Charlotte remained silent for a moment, her expression guarded. "This is why you should at least read the emails that Mom sent you, even if you don't want to reply," she scolded.

Her words struck a chord, and you listened intently as she revealed the shocking truth. "Charles overdosed," she continued, her voice heavy with emotion. "We almost lost him. The doctors said he was brain dead. It's truly a miracle that Charles could come back alive. That's the reason why he became a priest."

The revelation left you speechless, your ignorance laid bare before you. "I had no idea," you whispered, grappling with the weight of the revelation.

"But now you know," Charlotte replied, her tone softer. "And you understand why my dad cut off all contact with anything related to drugs."

Charlotte's words hit you like a punch to the gut, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"If you never came here, none of this would have happened," Charlotte muttered, her gaze heavy with accusation.

You bristled at her insinuation. "None of that is my fault," you retorted, feeling the weight of her words bearing down on you.

Charlotte's voice was laced with bitterness as she continued, "Your existence changed Charles."

You recoiled at the truth of her words, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Charles's feelings for you had always been a taboo topic, one you never dared to confront. It explained so much—the distance, the tension, the unspoken truths that lingered between you and your family.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, even though you knew deep down that you were not to blame. "I didn't even ask to be born," you muttered, a bitter reminder of the unfair hand life had dealt you.

The tension crackled in the air as you and Charlotte locked gazes, each refusing to back down from the confrontation.

"You can't blame me for Charles's choices," you snapped, your frustration boiling over.

Charlotte's eyes flashed with resentment. "I'm not blaming you for his choices, I'm blaming you for existing!" she shot back, her words like daggers aimed at your heart.

Your jaw clenched as you struggled to contain your rising anger. "Well, I'm sorry if my existence inconveniences you so much," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's not just about inconvenience, it's about ruining lives!" Charlotte spat, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Ruining lives?" you scoffed, incredulous. "I didn't ask for any of this! I didn't ask to be the reason Charles spiraled out of control."

"Maybe not, but you're still the reason!" Charlotte's voice rose with every word, her frustration reaching its peak.

You took a step closer, your own anger boiling beneath the surface. "And what about me? What about the life I've had to live because of all this?"

Charlotte's expression softened slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. "I know it's not fair to you either," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Then stop blaming me for everything!" you pleaded, the weight of years of resentment and guilt bearing down on you.

"Stop it," Susan's voice cut through the tension, her breath heavy as she approached.

Both you and Charlotte halted, the argument stalling at Susan's arrival. She hurried over, concern etched on her face as she reached Charlotte, who appeared flushed.

"Are you alright?" Susan's voice was laced with worry as she checked on her daughter.

You felt a pang of resentment, knowing that despite being her biological child, Susan often treated Charlotte as her own. It stung, a constant reminder of your place in the family hierarchy.

As Susan tended to Charlotte, you clenched your fists, a surge of frustration coursing through you. You turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer.

Walking away, you pulled out your phone, dialing a number with shaky fingers. "Where are you?"

Inside the car, you and Bucky sat side by side, watching the second target intently. The bomb had already been discreetly placed under the car, and now it was just a matter of waiting.

Bucky's voice broke the silence, filled with genuine awe. "Damn, watching you do your thing is like watching Picasso paint."

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to downplay your talent. "Yeah, turns out anger can make me completely focused."

Bucky let out a low whistle, his admiration evident. "Well, color me impressed, sweetheart."

As you both observed the target, a man stumbled out of the club, clearly inebriated. His drunken antics drew attention, and he shamelessly flirted with every girl he encountered, much to your disdain.

"What's the reason for him?" you inquired, unable to hide your distaste for the man's behavior.

Bucky's response was simple yet cryptic. "Someone just really hates him."

Moments later, the target climbed into his car, oblivious to the impending danger. Without hesitation, Bucky pressed the trigger.

'BANG' The explosion echoed through the night as the car erupted in flames, sending shockwaves through the surrounding area.

'KYAA!!'

The chaos erupted as the explosion sent shockwaves through the crowd, eliciting panicked screams from bystanders.

"Too bad the wedding will never happen," Bucky remarked casually, his tone laced with dark amusement.

Your heart sank at his words, a sense of dread settling over you. "Huh?" you muttered, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

Bucky's pointed gesture toward the burning car made everything click into place. "He's your step-sister's fiancé," he explained bluntly.

A wave of guilt washed over you as you realized the ramifications of your actions. You cursed your ignorance and lack of foresight.

In frustration, you turned on Bucky, your voice trembling with anger."Next time, how about a little warning before we go blowing up someone's bloody ride?"

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[fullofobsessions]

It annoys me when people say Hamilton doesn't have enough feminism in it and that the women in it aren't "strong enough".

Are you kidding me?

All four main women in the musical represent a different type of feminism.

Angelica Schuyler represents the rebellious type of feminism; she's the one that blatantly resists oppression and refuses to be ruled by men's opinions.

She stood up to Aaron Burr, thus creating her own revolution against prejudice and sexism.

She shows us that sometimes, to be strong is to stand up for yourself.

Elizabeth Schuyler represents the supporting type of feminism; she's the one that listens to other people, always giving them a shoulder to cry on in their hardest times.

She comforted Alexander when he was worried she'd leave him because of his lack of money, saying that she doesn't need more than just him being alive.

She shows us that sometimes, to be strong is to show kindness to those who need it.

Peggy Schuyler represents the quiet type of feminism; she's the one that follows rules and listens to her father without asking questions, nudging her sisters to go back home (which she does to keep the three of them safe), but is also helping her sisters out whenever she can.

She kept Laurens out of the way at the winter ball so Eliza could have her chance at finding love with Alexander.

She shows us that sometimes, to be strong is to help the people you care about, even if they don't always know or appreciate it.

Maria Reynolds represents the misunderstood type of feminism; she's the one who is being constantly hurt and torn down by a man, but is still begging to be saved by another man, and then being victim-blamed for it.

She silently endured abuse to keep her daughter, who is not mentioned in he musical, safe.

She shows us that sometimes, to be strong is to know when to be weak.

Hamilton is full of feminism, not to mention the fact that the musical ends with Elizabeth Schuyler being the reason people still know about Alexander Hamilton and his legacy, more than 200 years after his death.

All thanks to a woman.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 

"Because she takes her pills?" 

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.  

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 

Tony, however, was taking no chances. 

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

[xhoneygirlxx]

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: The cheerleading and boy's basketball coaches are the talk of Hawkins High. When they can't seem to put two and two together, the students have to take matter into their own hands to get the pair together.

warnings: fluff. Steve and reader are both in their 20s. gender/body size/ethnicity are not discussed (the name of the fic was simply picked based off of one line). a little cameo from our favorite metal head. a bit sappy but who cares. idiots in love. we stan the students in this fic, they were doin god's work frfr. also modern au! spelling errors/shitty writing, i'm sick so forgive me for any mistakes lmao.

*if i miss anything please let me know*

a/n: As we all know, today would have been the last day of Honey's birthday bash. That was the plan my friends but bc of party festivities, hangovers, and now a bad cold, we are now behind on schedule. Thank you all for hanging in there with me :) I hope you all enjoy this, love you bunches!

The whole school is rolling fake dice.

Whispers traveled through the echo chamber hallways, bets being placed with the shaking of hands, and gossip being passed back and forth in the lunchroom like a breadbasket at dinner. All anyone could talk about was the two coaches that were blind to their own attraction to one another.

Unbeknownst to you and Steve, you guys were in the middle of a storm of circulating rumors since the beginning of the season. From the moment you two met all hell broke loose, a wildfire spreading through the classrooms of the school.

Everyone could see how much you liked each other, it was so clear like the scoreboard that shined brightly in the gym, except for you. The perfect love story, the cheerleader and jock, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

It started as a game between the cheerleaders and the basketball players, betting on who would break first and finally make it official. Soon it became a game amongst the rest of the student body, all of them biting at their nails and crossing their fingers in the hope that one of you would crack.

To everyone's disappointment, neither of you ever did. It was exhausting watching the two of you dance around your clear feelings for one another. The two of you tried to play it cool, act like any of the accusations were just that, accusations. But it was there, bright as day, on display for the whole world to see.

It was in the way your eyes would find each other's in a crowded room, feather light touches that would linger for way too long, shy smiles and rosy cheeks. The way you talked to one another was anything but two people who worked together. It was teasing, flirty, and breathless any time you talked.

There was a big wager for this whole thing, which team would win the biggest check and which one would have to fork over all the money. The cheerleaders and half of the school had their money on Steve, his reputation as a ladies man helping them with their decision. The basketball team and the other half of the school bet on you, knowing you were more outspoken then he is.

Now it's been months since the bets were placed but neither of you finally crossed over the line from friends to lovers. So the cheerleaders did what they do best, they rallied everyone on their side, made a plan that would guarantee their win.

Winter formal was only a week away, both of you were sure to chaperone without a date. So the cheerleaders got to work, making sure their plan would be executed flawlessly.

Phase #1: Plant the seeds

Two loud knocks against the heavy wood door of Steve's office bring him out of his computer screen. Shouting a come in, he's met with the sight of the student council president, Lauren McPhee who holds a white paper.

"Sorry to bother you but I need this form filled out for the dance next week!" She's too chipper for a Monday morning, smiling brightly like the sun that hangs in the cold December sky.

"Oh yeah, let me just get a pen." Wheeling back on his desk chair, Steve begins to pat his shirt while looking around at his cluttered desk for the writing instrument.

Once he snatches the ballpoint pen from under the stack of papers, Steve grabs the flimsy sheet from Lauren's hand and scribbles down his signature on every empty line.

"Alrighty, there you go." With a tight lipped smile, he hands it back to the nice girl.

Steve watches as her eyes flit over the paper, flipping it front to back to make sure everything is filled out properly. When her features twist in confusion he can't help but wonder why.

"Everything look good?" He questions and she shakes her head while still reading over the curled letters of his name.

"Y-yeah, it's just," pulling her lip between her teeth, Lauren begins to chew on it anxiously, "the section for your date has been left blank. Excuse me if I'm crossing a line here, coach, but you're not bringing a date?"

Her voice is sympathetic, lips pulled into a deep from and her eyes sparkling with pity as she looks at the older man. Steve isn't sure why she seems so upset about him going alone or why it would be a problem, but when she looks at him like a dog that's been kicked he feels the need to answer.

"Oh, well I don't really have anyone to take. Plus it's more important for me to be paying attention to the punch bowl to make sure no asshole- I mean jerk, spikes it." With a forced laugh, he waits to see if his answer is enough to suffice the girl's curiosity.

"O-oh that makes sense I guess, I just though maybe you and the cheerleading coach would go together. You know cause they're also going alone and from what they told me, they never been to their winter formal before." Shrugging, the girl moves her sights from him back to the paper.

"They told you that?" Steve's answer is met with a hesitant nod from the girl. "I-I didn't know that." He breathes.

"At least they'll finally be able to go, right?" Again she shrugs, pulling a folder from her bag to put the paper away.

"Wait!" It comes out louder than he expected, cringing slightly at his volume. "Can I hold onto that and then had it in later?"

"Sure! I'll be back on Wednesday." A sunny smile shines at him, the white paper being passed back to him. "See you then, coach."

Waving him goodbye, Lauren shuts the door behind her where the cheerleaders wait for her. With a singular thumbs up, they begin to jump with joy only for a moment before moving on to phase two.

Phase #2: Destroy the band room

Now destruction of school property was not something any student was willing to get written up for, but with the help of an adult maybe they wouldn't have to.

Mr. Munson was the band instructor and drama teacher, as well as Steve Harrington's right hand man. Before he was an educator, Eddie Munson menaced these halls for many years. Before getting his act together and after he quit selling weed to the students in the woods, he worked as an apprentice for a while, following a plumber around for months while he went to college for education.

"Mr. Munson come on, don't you want to see your bestie finally get a happy ending?" Karissa Thomas batted her eyelashes at him as she begged for his help.

"I don't know guys, I could get into a lot of trouble." Rubbing his forehead, Eddie sighs as he weighs out his options in his head.

"Think of it this way, you can finally give principle Higgins the finger. At least metaphorically." Anthony Whitmer adds.

"Plus, we'll give you some of the profits." Mark, another band kid pleads from the group.

Eddie leans against his desk wide eyed, smirking slightly at his band students. Who knew they would be so devious.

"Fuck it, I'm in." The group before him shout in victory while Eddie laughs devilishly. Somethings never changes, he thinks.

So this morning when he arrived at school, Eddie made sure that no one was around when he began fucking with the pipes. After about twenty minutes and sore upper arms, he finally succeeds by springing a leak.

When he reported the leak to principle Higgins, he was met with a side eye before getting the approval of the gym slot after school, which meant you and your team would be forced to share with Harrington and his team until it got fixed.

Phase #3: Offer planning services to coach Harrington

Now to bring this whole plan together, cheer captains Dan Morrison and Amber Hall needed to be in the same place at the same time as Steve Harrington. The only problem was his office and where he usually occupied the most was the east wing of the school. The east wing was the closest to his office and it was the least traveled hallways out of the whole school.

That meant they needed to make it look like they were that way for a reason. Luckily for them, the art room was also in the east wing, so they would make it look like they were grabbing poster boards for last minute winter formal posters.

Lunch time was the best time to put this into motion, so the minute the 11:50 bell rang, Dan and Amber sprinted to the east wing in the hopes they would catch him.

After rummaging around for glitter, markers, and poster boards, the two waited at the door, peaking over the frame in the hopes to catch the older man. When the door of his office opened, the two seniors began to walk out of the room talking about random things to not make it look so obvious.

In the hopes of sparking a conversation with him, Amber dropped the container of markers causing colorful pens to fall all over the hard floor.

"Amber, I told you not to drop them!" Dan laughs, putting the white posters to the floor in order to pick up the rolling markers.

"You made me laugh!" The girl argues back, laughing loudly as she crouches to help.

"I didn't even do anything." He replies, making the girl laugh even harder at his comment.

The echo of Steve's heavy footsteps could be heard by both teenagers, but they ignore it so he wouldn't catch on.

"You guys cool?" Steve asks, crouching down to help pick up what fell.

"H-hi coach," Amber greets, catching her breath from her heavy laughter, "We're okay, Dan just made me drop these."

The boy in question huffs and rolls his eyes playfully, continuing his actions of gathering the rest of what's on the floor.

"So what are you guys doing with all this, anyway?" Steve asks, pushing off on his knees to stand.

"Oh, just last minute posters for the dance." Dan says nonchalantly as he gathers his pile of supplies.

"You're going, right?" The young girl asks and Steve responds with a small sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah I'll be there." Nodding his head, the man places his hands on his hips looking at the two kids in front of him.

"That's fun! Are you bringing a date?" Amber wiggles her eyebrows.

Shoving her playfully, Dan looks at her with a gasp. "Oh my gosh, Amber you can't just ask that. Sorry, coach." Doing his best to look sympathetic, Dan offers his best smile to the older man.

"It's okay, Dan," Steve places a hand out, looking at the brown haired boy, "Actually, I was wondering if you guys could help me with that."

"Sure!" The cheerleaders agree in unison.

"Let's talk about this in my office." Pointing a thumb to the end of the hall, spinning of the ball of his foot to lead the way.

Steve defiantly doesn't see how bright both of the teen's smiles are from where they walk behind him and he surely doesn't see them giving each other a high five.

Phase #4: Get you to go to the parking lot before practice

This phase was probably the hardest of them all. You were very keen on punctuality, always the first to be at the building to make sure everything was set up. Now that you'd be sharing the gym with the basketball team, you were more than likely to be there a whole lot earlier than usual.

Now this is where the most important players come in, Lauren Hernandez and Simon Carter. The two freshmen were bright stars at Hawkins High, the leading members of the mathletes and very trust worthy students.

When this whole plan started it was known that they'd need someone who was convincing to divert your attention, so the two meek students volunteered without a second thought. The amount of money they'd win if coach Harrington made the first move was way more important than credibility at this point.

When they spotted you coming through the outside gym door, the two kids began to put on their show. Rushing through the two gymnasium doors, Lauren and Simon pant acting as if they ran a mile.

"C-coah, we need-" Simon bends over, bracing his hands on his knees while breathing heavily, "We need your help!"

You immediately drop your bags, sprinting over to the two youths. Worry is written all over your face, eyes immediately checking for any visible injuries on them.

"I-is everything okay? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Placing a hand on your chest, you wait for them to catch their breath.

"There's a fight outside. Max Newman and Devon Lewis are fighting in the parking lot." Lauren rushes out, eyes wide and glassy under the gym lights.

You're more than shocked at the news, the two boys have been great friends the whole time you've coached them. In a flash, you urge both kids to get coach Harrington from his office while you break up the fight.

What you don't know is neither Simon or Lauren have to get him, waiting until the slam of the heavy gym door both run after you to make sure they don't miss a single moment.

Rushing through the entrance doors, the cold winter chill instantly hits you but you don't pay too much attention to it when there isn't a fight happening.

When you walk outside, you see your team of cheerleaders lined up on both sides of the steps, a red rose in each hand. As you walk, they hand them to you, bright smiles on each of their faces when they do.

You can't speak with the amount of confusion that runs through your brain. Even though you want to ask them what all of this is about, you just let your feet carry you out into the parking lot.

You jump slightly when you hear Wildest Dreams being play, the only difference is the band kids stand off to the side with their instruments. Giggling slightly, you imagine Eddie Munson teaching his kids a Taylor Swift song but Bridgerton style.

With a bundle of roses in hand, you continue out into the snow covered parking lot. Under the street lights you see him standing with his hands in his pockets. Behind him stands some of the drama kids, holding big white posters. Taking a moment to read the blue and silver lettering, you gasp when it finally hits you.

F O R M A L ?

Tears prick your eyes and not just because of the cold winter wind. The thought and dedication that went into this must've taken so much (more than both of you even realize), you're heart beaming with the thought of Steve putting this together.

"So what do you say, coach? Will you do me the honors of being my date to the dance?" Steve's cheeks are red and his teeth glimmer under the florescent lights.

You can't help but let more tears fall, all of the pining and wishing finally coming true under the darken sky, right where the two of you first met. It feels too good too be true, a real life fairytale happening in real time.

"Of course I will." It comes out loud enough for only him to hear, the two of you looking at each other in adoration.

In a split moment, Steve's strong hands pull you in and wrap you in the tightest hug, something you dreamt of all this time. Even in the cold temperatures, his body heat, his touch holds the heat of a thousand suns.

The roaring cheer of all of those around you, besides the band who continue to play, fills the open air. You and Steve are so wrapped up in each other you don't even notice the flash of the camera, Andrew Johnson of the yearbook committee getting multiple shots of the whole thing.

Pulling back enough to look at one another, you smile brightly up at him. Steve looks so pretty like this, cherry nose, snow flurries collecting in his eyelashes and hair, and a smile so sweet it could rot your teeth.

"I can't believe you did all of this." You say with a laugh, shaking your head in amazement.

Chuckling slightly, he looks down bashfully at you. "Yeah well, I had some help." The two of your look all around the parking lot where multiple students stand, all from different clubs, groups, and social brackets beam and cheer for the two of you.

The two of you turn back to one another, gooey looks on both of your faces and love filling your eyes. "Who would've thought." You say breathlessly and he agrees.

"Can I kiss you?" It's breathless and hopeful when Steve says it, and you're answer is just as breathless.

Connecting his lips to yours felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, it's feels like home, and it feels right. Like a snow globe, you and Steve are frozen for just a moment under the December snow.

I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3

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[supernatural-dreamer]

The Unnatural and Unexpected (Embry Call x Black! Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hiya everyone! We're baack with another installment. School just started back for me and it's been kicking my butt so apologies for any delays. This part changes focus a little from the main character and is little bit of a filler, but rest assured it's getting juicy... Enjoy! Cheers!

~Lauren

This is set during Eclipse around newborn battle. This is tailored for a African American/Black female reader specifically, however all are welcome to read..

—

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

—

Imagine being Embry’s imprint and tagging along with the wolves to their newborn training session. However, you’re always in for an unexpected surprise when you’re around Bella..

Unfortunately she was right. The wound was deeper than anticipated. No wonder why it was hard for you to stop the bleeding. As much as you cared for him, you were silently cursing Embry and Jasper every which way. 

Damn superhuman strength.

Not even fifteen minutes after she walked in the door, Emily had your wound disinfected, helped clean you up, and even started heating up leftovers she brought over. Bless this woman.

“Just one more stitch, I’m almost done, hon. Hang in there.” You winced in pain as she covers up your fresh stitches with a bandage dressing. 

“I at LEAST owe one of them a slap for the fight. This is crazy.” Sitting up gently from the living room couch, Emily helps you into the kitchen. 

“Deal.” She pulls out a small bottle of vodka from her bag with two shot glasses and places them on the counter. You raise an eyebrow, smirking. 

“This is JUST for now until I can get you some painkillers tomorrow. Unfortunately, you’re out of Tylenol and the drugstores are closed.” She shrugs her shoulders at your slight shock and amusement. 

“Being an ex-nurse has its perks. Food’s almost done, you hungry?” 

——

After finishing up eating and graciously accepting the little alcohol. It was only then you remembered the days earlier events.

As much as you wanted some time, you thanked your lucky stars that the one person you probably needed showed up at your doorstep.

“Sorry about how I answered the door earlier.” Sheepishly, you start to look down at your kitchen floor.

“Nothing to apologize for. Sam told me everything that happened and I came straight over and don’t worry, they don’t know I’m here.” 

“I appreciate it. How’s Embry holding up?” Sighing heavily, Emily places her plate and yours in the dishwasher. 

“Sam, myself, and their partners let him have it after finding out he hurt you. Is he justified in his anger, yes, but he shouldn’t have let it get the best of him.” At this, you bury your face in your hands. This is such a mess. You didn’t mean to cause any of it.

You hear her shuffle to sit next to you as she gently pulls your hands from your face. 

“Hey, NONE of this is your fault. You never asked to be in this situation. The only people at fault here are Embry and Jasper. Jasper chose to keep it from you and both of them hurt you. As much as I love the pack, they do not get to decide anything for their imprints, especially after they hurt them.” It was then you looked up at her. The fluorescent light of the kitchen made the darkness outside look endless.  For the first time, at least to you, her scar was more prominent on her skin. 

“I made the choice to stay with Sam, but you don’t have to. As much as I’m not a big fan of the vampires, I value yours, and the other imprints, well-being above all else.” She pats your shoulder. 

“Now, for the most important question, Comedy or Rom-com?” 

—

tags: @fckwritersblock , @zoexme , @abluejay-comments , @solar2solstice