#GODS I’M. PUBLISHED. OFFICIALLY.

[zsbrainrot]

Happy Buddy Daddies Friday! This week you guys get a fic AND a drawing of Kazurei’s first meeting (based on the First Drama CD)

#also with this fic I’ve officially published 100k words on ao3 :3 #I worked really hard on this fic so I hope you all enjoy 💙 #also you cannot convince me that Kazuki didn’t carry Rei Back to his apartment bridal style #god I love them #also I’m gonna post an art dump in the next few days bc I have been drawing but social media is once again making me tired #kazurei #buddy daddies #my art #reikazu #buddy daddies fanart #kazurei fanart #rei suwa #my writing #zsart #buddydaddiesfanart #buddy daddies Friday #happy buddy daddies Friday

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

See No Evil

Pairing: John Price x F!reader

Synopsis: The flowers came every week -- Tuesday, two O’clock, two minutes after your break. The only problem was that you knew they weren’t coming from John.

Word Count: 17.5k

Warnings: Stalking, violence, intense gore, blood, abduction, angst, fluff, protective!John, not quite smut, swearing, stereotypical ‘Bad Guy’ character who gets his ass beat, minor character death

A/N: Finished this at 3am so forgive the absolute deterioration of the plot near the end.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The flowers came once a week – Tuesday, two o’clock, two minutes after your scheduled break. The Triple Twos your coworkers would joke, slapping you on the shoulder with wide smiles and questioning eyes as they continued by asking if John had done something to piss you off. That was the only excuse to spend so much money on flowers every single week; the man had to have done something absolutely unforgivable. 

You always found yourself fake chuckling at the accusations with a tense jaw and flickering eyes, looking to the empty corners and the glass front doors as the delivery man exits the building; whistling a tune. Choking down the bile in your throat.

The problem was that John hadn’t done anything wrong, and the tightening in your chest had told you that something more sinister was going on even if you didn’t know exactly what. Another part of you, the common civilian voice in the front of your mind, hissed that you were just being paranoid. 

But something was just off.

There was always a note that came with the gift, and it was always stuck on a cardholder; the metal shimmering in the white light. It was a stark contrast to the black paper trapped in it, keeping your eyes transfixed like a void in the earth. You could feel your heart drop every time your gaze locked onto it and the blood-red lettering, like the fibers were bleeding with every stab of a long-gone fountain pen. 

The flowers themselves made you pause the first time you had gotten them. Jess, the kind old woman who works the front desk, had come and gotten you herself, and that alone was unusual. Like a man wearing shorts during winter – not entirely uncommon, but still surprising when you saw it happen to say the least.

“Why,” Jess had muttered to you as you gave her a confused look as to why she was in your department in the middle of the day, “That John of yours is just the sweetest. The hydrangeas are the prettiest shade of blue, Dear. The man of yours was an absolute God-send. A pity I’m married – I would have tried to snatch him up!” 

“Flowers?” You frowned, running over thoughts about presentations and powerpoints you still had to get done by the end of the day. Already you were at the edge of your rope, “What are you talking about, Jess, I don’t think that John…”

Jess had already bounced ahead, quite limber for her old age, you had thought before you followed after; sucking in a deep sigh. Turning a corner with the clack of your work shoes, you saw a flash of color in the otherwise dull gray of the lobby, kissing the sides of your vision. 

“Woah,” Your eyes widened, taking in the sight in front of you as a hand lifted to your lips in shock. 

The arrangement was massive – bigger than any you had seen except for one other place.

The first official date you and John had gone on was at a fancy restaurant downtown with similar gargantuan bouquets – a really nice place with candles and red tablecloths.

Throughout the course of the night, both of you had gotten to know each other exceptionally well, but it wasn’t like the two of you were unfamiliar in the first place. If anyone would have asked, many of your coworkers would have told about how, months ago, you had first started gushing about the most handsome man you had ever seen leaving the local library once more. Through many fake threats and warnings that if you didn’t snag the brown-haired Brit soon, they would steal him from you, you shoved down the nervousness in your throat and went to the library on your days off.

It was a week before you gained the courage to even look in his direction, and when you did, you had already found him sneaking glances back. You had offered a friendly smile, albeit a nervous one, and had flushed when he had given you a twitch of his lips and a tilt of his head back.

For six weeks you had gone back, borrowing books you had no intention of reading just to have a chance to speak to him – and when you did, you had both become infatuated with each other. John had asked you about any history book recommendations and you had laughed and said you only read fiction; the man had looked offended, but slyly commented that he would have to change your opinion over dinner.

It was easy to admit that you had agreed right away, body fuzzy and warm.

But on that first official date, you had told him something that you never imagined would come up again when the waiter had put the first-course dish in front of you. Blue Hydrangeas and pure white Orchids. Your favorite flowers. 

“John sent these?” You had wondered aloud at the first vase of flora on the granite desk-top, blue and white immediately catching your eyes. Your chest had lightened with love. This was so kind of him. 

“Look,” Jess had squealed, placing her withered hands on her cheeks. It was almost like she was getting the gift instead of you. Your lips had quirked in amusement, “There’s a note too. Quick, read it to me! I want all the juicy details.”

That was when you realized something was wrong. 

Note? You had raised a brow, John left a note? 

Your boyfriend was many things – loyal, brave, an absolutely lovely person to hug because of those muscled bear arms, and hard-headed when it came to you walking nowhere near the edge of the road – but a note writer? No. 

If John wanted to tell you something he would tell you – whisper it into your skin as he leaves gentle kisses behind, mutter it into your hair as he brings you into a slow dance in his house’s living room. Smugly grunt it into the hot air as he leaves you sobbing from pleasure, his fingers curling inside of your heat. 

Your nose had twitched at the smell of the flowers, but your digits had gravitated to the black note card and its red writing. 

‘Thinking of you now, 

Long to be with you always,

Morning, noon, and night.’

The paper crinkled as you held the edge slightly tighter, but other than that no outward expression told anyone how confused you were. This wasn’t like John at all and your feet fidget a bit as you try and think if you had missed a massive date on the calendar to elicit such a break in character. But no, you tilted your head, there was nothing going on today.

How did John even order these? You had raised your free hand and brushed one of the white Orchid pedals, He’s out on deployment, not down the street standing in the floral shop.

Jess was gushing at your side, and a few other coworkers come by and say how happy they are for you. 

Maybe I’m just overthinking this – John can send flowers and notes whenever he wants. He’s my boyfriend. 

Looking over to your coworkers you agree to a comment about how attentive John is, “Yeah,” You force a laugh and shove down the swirling in your gut, “He’s really great – you have no idea…Did you know he makes the best waffles I’ve ever had? He even brings them to me in bed when he’s home!”

Then the whistling delivery man, named Don as you had found out the second week deep into this strange event, had become just as familiar as your coworkers. 

Which leaves us in the present. 

Tuesday, Two O’clock, two minutes into your scheduled break. The Triple Twos. 

You’re already waiting by the front desk, leaning back into it with the granite top digging into your back like a heavy hand. You try to stop the way your stomach twists when you hear Don whistling – Jess laughs to your left. 

“Like clockwork, Dear.”

You don’t answer, only tighten your lips into a line; tap your foot on the floor. Your arms crossed.

If you had the option to contact John this would have been easier – ask if he was responsible and finally put this to rest. But your Lover had told you right before the relationship was made official that his job was demanding and that it could even put you in situations that would be less than enjoyable. John had long hours, few breaks with stretches far in between where he would be able to see you. No contact when he was away overseas unless you were in a life-or-death situation – too many possible variables of who could be listening over the line if you called.

“It’d make me feel better if I know there’s no chance of anyone coming back to London to mess with my girl, eh?” He had said, pressing a scratchy kiss to your forehead as he was about to leave your apartment to gather his gear at his home. John would be away for months this time, you knew, “Put my mind at ease about it. But don’t you worry, Love. I’ll be back soon, yeah? We’ll watch that movie you wanted to see when I’m home.” 

Don opens the door, holding another damned vase with blue Hydrangeas and white Orchids sticking out of the top. Your eyes find the note all too quickly and your fingers tighten over your biceps.

“Hell,” The delivery man snorts at you, “I’m starting to think this guy is going to buy up all the Florists’ stock at this rate! The hell did he do? Cheat on you?” 

You roll your eyes, not replying to the comment and never doubting John’s loyalty to you in the slightest. Muttering a soulless ‘thanks’ before moving to help Don, you take the object from him with a grimace. The vase is like iron in your hand – heavy and cold to the touch akin to a corpse. Like death gripping at the slim vines of life, petals blooming through its fingers. 

“I still wish you’d tell me the name of the person who ordered them,” You utter, moving to drop the vase with a plunk on the front desk. It was like you were repulsed by even touching them.

Jess narrows her eyes, “What?” She comments, tone exasperated that you were bringing this up again, “Do you think someone else is going through all this effort? Come on, Dear, no one but John would send these. They’re your favorites!”

“See you next week!” Don calls behind his back, already sneaking out the door to continue his work. 

“I don’t know, Jess,” You run your hands over your face, pushing back the hair over your forehead with a groan, “Something just seems off about it. This isn’t like John – if it was I wouldn’t be making a big deal over it, I mean, why would I? I like flowers as much as the next person, but really? This is a bit much.” 

“So what I’m hearing in the man never gets you gifts?”

“No!” You snag the black paper note with your fingers, huffing, “The flowers aren’t the problem – It’s the damn note that throws me for a loop.”

“The note?”

“It’s a fucking Haiku – since when have I ever mentioned John writing poetry?” Your voice turns into a gruff imitation of what it once was, “The man is romantic, sure, but he definitely doesn’t take his time to write out poems. He writes so many reports he barely picks the pen back up after he throws it down.”

Jess hums. 

“Oh, maybe he’s just trying out a new pass time – perhaps he’ll come back to London as the next William Blake, hm?” The older woman waves her hands around, creating grand gestures as you watch with a blank face and a raised brow.

“Now that’s funny.”

John had hobbies – reading and cooking being two of them. The only time he wrote was when he was working on reports from an Op. and locked away in his office to make sure you never saw what he was getting red, tired, eyes over.

“There are some things that I never want you to see,” He had told you when you had asked what he was working on once. You had come to his house to visit, and he promised to go out with you when he was finished with a report to Laswell, “Images that have no right living in that beautiful brain of yours.” 

“Why should you have to see them, then?” You muttered, gazing into his eyes with concern. He put so much on himself, “Don’t they make you sick?”

“Yeah, lie of the century, that is,” He had smiled stiffly, dragging you into his arms as you melt. Your hands wrap around his tapered waist, sighing, “But it’s the mission. Someone has to get their hands dirty. And I’d rather it always be me than anyone else – least of all you, Love. I’ll be ready to go in half an hour, copy?”

“Well,” Jess sighs, typing something on her computer, “Is the note the same as the last four times?”

You blink, and look down at the tiny paper you had been strangling in your grip. Black and red – just as always. Freezing you look at the letters and numbers written in that fountain-pen script. It takes you a moment of realization before it feels like a knife hits you in the heart, breaking open your ribcage and splaying the bones into the light. 

Your lungs chill over, air stagnant and unmoving so that your breaths are reduced to gasps. The pulse inside of you increases so suddenly that your feet stumble and your skin vibrates as your veins work overtime. 

The red script burns the exact address of your apartment building into your retina. 

“Call the police.” 

—

“Hello, this is Kate Laswell,” The voice over your phone wafts into the lifeless air of John’s home, and your skin crawls as it bounces off the walls. It felt wrong to you – taking refuge in John’s place without telling him first. But going back to your apartment wasn’t an option, “...Hello?”

With a start, you realized you had forgotten to reply. Placing a finger on the drawn curtains to the front window, you peak outside with tense shoulders, eyes roving the empty street.

“H-hi, Kate, I know this is probably stepping over a line, a big one, but I found your office number in John’s house,” You give your name tersely and clear your throat before stating you were the man’s girlfriend. Laswell stays silent, letting you explain yourself even if she was overwhelmingly confused. You appreciated that immensely. If she were to start asking you questions you might start crying, “but I would be really appreciative if you could tell him – if John’s even working with you on this deployment, that is, that I have to stay in his home for a few days… o-or a week…possibly.” 

It didn’t take an expert to know that you were shaken, your voice cutting out at the wrong times as the phone picks up the static of your constant movement and fidgeting. Your eyes follow a white car as it drives down the street outside, pupils small and eyebrows drawn in. You drop the fabric and take a step back, sucking in a deep breath. 

Focus.

A pause over the line makes your heart beat faster as you begin to go and pace the front hallway. There’s a paranoia in your blood that oozes out into the lines of the hardwood and around your socked feet as you zip back and forth. 

Kate utters your name over the phone slowly. She doesn't ask why you’re in John’s house or why you're staying there, just gets to the root of the problem, “...Are you alright? Do you want me to mention anything else to-”

“No!” You gasp out, waving your free hand in front of you, “No, I don’t want to make him distracted. I just…” Your voice trails off, air getting harder to suck into your lungs.

A gentle sigh flows out over the call, and the sound of a body shuffling closer to the landline. Feet sliding over the floor.

“What’s going on, Dear?” 

You stop pacing. 

Laswell was a good deal older than you, you knew, and the tone she was taking reminded you of a mother who was trying to console a child; particularly one who had just hit their head after falling to the ground. Smooth, calm, and with a kind insistence. It made your chest tighten as you swallowed down saliva in your closed throat. Your eyes sting.

“I-” You rub a hand up to your cheeks, feeling the heat enter your clammy palms as a glassiness coats the back of your eyelids. Before you knew it, everything comes spilling out in a spew of hiccupped breaths and tears, “Something’s been happening at work for a while and the police are involved,” You try to steady your voice, “But…but they can’t do much because there’s no imminent threat to my safety. Yeah, well, the problem is that this fucking freak knows my address and I didn’t know where else to go.” 

Your story jumps around, telling of the flowers and the notes. You take no linear path and instead you have to go back steps and explain that you didn’t even know who was doing this. By the time you had finished, you were sitting on the floor, knees drawn to your chest and sniffling. Your clothes were ruffled from you constantly flattening them down, wrinkles like veins visible in the fabric.

Kate coughs over the line as you come to a sobbing stop, trying to muffle your panic with a hand to your mouth as you tilt the phone down parallel to your chin. Tears drip from your face one by one.

“I’m sure John won’t mind you staying in his house,” Laswell speaks slowly, trying to ease your nerves and stop the panicked breathing over the call, “I’ll call my contacts in your local police force, alright? We’ll get someone on this; just take a breath for me, okay?” 

“Please, don’t tell John,” You gasp, wiping away the waterworks with your hand, “It’ll make him worry too much.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that.” 

—

John had gotten a text from Laswell just as he had finished taking off his gear, the small bleep from his phone distracting him from the straps of his leg holsters. He blinks, furrowing his dark brows and looking at the black device as it sits on the bench. The changing room lights fizzle for a moment, and the bear of a man spares them a grunt. 

The Captain’s athletic shirt is neatly folded under the phone, the fabric creased and drowned with sweat and dirt. He walks over with only his cargo pants on, liking the way the chilled air felt on his flushed skin as the adrenaline from the latest step in the mission wore off. 

AC, he decided, was one of man's greatest inventions. His dog tags clink over each other around his neck as a trail of sweat dripped down his abs.

John’s fingers snatch the phone, one hand going to unbuckle his belt so he can take a shower and wash all the grime from his body. The lights bounce off his physique, biceps becoming more prominent as he brings the phone up, but before he looks at the screen the back of his hand travels to his forehead. He takes a moment to wipe at his slick skin before sighing and itching at his hairline. Bringing the phone down, John looks at the screen absentmindedly, preoccupied with the thoughts of warm water to ease his aches and the forming bruises over his skin. 

Laswell: “Get to my office. ASAP. It’s about your girl.”

John stops, his pants only held up by his tense hips; his free hand at the front zipper about to send the slider down the tiny metal teeth. He utters your name with a grunt of breath, eyebrows furrowing as a concerned frown overtakes his face. 

It takes half a moment for him to shuck his pants back up and grab his nasty shirt from the bench. John shoves his feet into his mud-slick boots without a second thought; he doesn't tie the laces, instead, he shoves them into the sides. Sending a reply with one hand, he’s rushing out the door in under fifteen seconds, heart taking off like a plane and pulse being re-set alight. His jaw clenches and his tags bounce as he thunders onwards. 

Price: “On my way.” 

His feet hammer the floor, sending small shockwaves over the ground as the man rampages on. John sprints past room after room and runs down multiple hallways before finally getting to where he needs to be with stiff limbs. He grasps the side of the open doorway with a heavy hand and all but swings himself into the next hallway before he skids to a stop at the first door on the right. An all-encompassing grip is slammed onto the metal handle, and he mercilessly twists before opening it with his other hand on the woodgrain; his shoulder ready to ram the barrier open if it happened to be locked. 

It wouldn’t have been, but John’s mind isn’t thinking straight. In his head, all he can do is come up with the worst possibilities. You, dead back in London, or severely injured due to a freak accident, maybe on life support with no hope of waking back up. There were too many options – John had simply seen too much, he knows that if the worst could happen, it will. But fuck nothing was ever meant to happen to you. Not you. Anyone but you.

You were supposed to be safe – always.

The Captain doesn’t bother to knock before the door is swung to the side. Your voice is the first thing that John hears, high-pitched and strained as you sob into the landline on Kate’s desk. Papers had once scattered the woman’s workspace, but all are pushed to the side as Laswell’s hands are clenched on the metal top; full attention on the hysterical lady a world away. 

Kate snaps her hardened eyes up to John watching as his chest heaves before bringing a finger to her lips. Her expression twists into a frown. 

Clenching his jaw, John feels his heart sputter at the sounds from the landline – what were you saying? His ears strain as he pushes the door closed with a muffled click, feet unconsciously carrying him to your voice like you were in the room with him. He wishes you were. John stops by the edge of the desk, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides before he crosses them over his chest; fingers digging into the meat of his arms. 

His feet shuffle and he picks up the sniffled words of ‘don’t know him’ and ‘figured out where I live.’ 

Laswell sends him a glance as John’s eyes widen, beginning to paint a picture for himself of what was going on. A heated rage flies through his bloodstream, lips pulling back in a snarl, but he stayed silent so he could let you speak.

Has her address? Where is she now?! 

“I’m sure John won’t mind you staying at his house,” Kate mutters calmly, slowly, and John is thankful that the woman was who you had decided to call – even if he felt bad that you didn’t think you could get in contact with him directly for something like this. 

I told her not to, He lays his hands on the table, leaning closer to the landline, and takes a deep calming breath to help his head from exploding, Bloody hell, I made her feel like she shouldn’t. 

John’s face steadily gains a red sheen of self-hatred under his beard and over his cheeks. He would have made time for you – found a secure line and waited for you to call. So why hadn’t he done that yet? He should have checked in.

The man brings a hand to his face, running it over his beard and pulling at the strands. There was just so much going on with the Task Force that it must have slipped his mind. Laswell continues from her seat at the desk chair, not oblivious to John’s state.

“I’ll call my contacts in your local police force, alright? We’ll get someone on this; just take a breath for me, okay?” John hears your static-filled voice let out a muffled whimper and he suppresses a flinch, breath getting caught in his throat. He never wants you to make a fearful noise like that again.

“Please, don’t tell John,” You gasp out and the two in the office pause – John becomes as still as a statue, his face pained and eyes widening – they hear you wiping away tears with a ruffle of fabric, “It’ll make him worry too much.”

Against his better judgment, the man lets a small, emotionless, quirk of his lips grace the tense atmosphere. 

She’s the one being stalked and she’s concerned about me worrying about her? Damn this woman. If only she knew how much I actually think about her when I’m away, regardless. I couldn’t not think about her well-being if I tried – halfway around the world and I can’t get it together.

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” Laswell speaks after a moment. John hears you suck in a quick breath and he takes a deep intake of air in turn, filling his chest and trying to ignore the scent of his own stench. God, he really needed a shower, but warm water was nowhere in the vicinity of what he was thinking about right now. Not anymore. 

You took precedent. Always.

“...John?” Your voice wavers out, thin and cautious. 

“I’m right here, Doll,” The Captain utters, speaking softly as Laswell grabs her personal phone from the top drawer of the desk and slinks away – going to make that call to her contact no doubt. She sends him a close-lipped smile, nods to the exit, and walks out of the room. John tilts his head in her direction as the door closes, “I heard the last half, alright? Don’t you worry about a thing, it’ll all be sorted. Stay at my place long as you need and don’t worry ‘bout making a mess,” He nods his head even if you can’t see him, body wanting to hold you to his chest, “Even have your favorite snacks in the pantry for you, Love. Stocked up a few months ago just in case you ended up staying over…lucky guess on my part, yeah?”

“The chocolate ones?” You snort wetly, and John smiles in contentment at the noise of your slowing breath. Hearing you calm down was making his own pulse return to normal. You were okay – for now at least – and that was enough to make the tension in the man’s shoulders subside; the clenching of his fists on the table loosen. But there was a special section of his heart that held the knowledge that someone had made you fearful for your life – left you crying and desperate to have protection from the unknown. And here John was, not able to even press a kiss to your head. He can’t help the sliver of self-resentment at the thought, “But I…I thought you hated those?”

“Hm,” John grunts, conceding just for you. He tries to push his anger aside and force out his teasing comment, just focus on her, “The bloody things grew on me. How can I hate something you love so much? Especially when you’re making fun of me for not liken’ ‘em.”

A content silence falls, with your body shuffling occasionally as your try and find your bearings again. The man knows your mind will come back to you if you just focus on him; just like his own would. John’s lips fall into a line. 

“Darling,” He whispers, but knows you can hear him by how you make a small noise in the back of your throat, “I need to ask you, how long has this been going on?”

John's ears pick up a sigh, “A little more than a month,” The Captain’s eyes close, head slightly turning down into his chest as his fingers drum the desktop, “I just…I thought it was you at first - even if It felt a little off, you understand? Then the most recent note had my apartment address on it and I-I panicked. I didn’t know where else to go except to your house. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” John firmly states, eyes flaring as he moves to sit in Laswell’s chair. A slight creak echoed out as he puts his weight on it, leaning forward intently, “Never apologize – this is some pathetic Muppet’s fault and will never, for one moment, be yours…Now, you stay at my home and lay low for a while. Did they give you time off from work? If not, I’ll send a call to your boss and–”

“You can’t just do that!” Your voice is coated with amusement, light laughter playing off your lips as you interrupt his methodical and soldier-like rant. John stifles a deep chuckle, closing his eyes and listening, “I already took a week off, I promise. I was just planning on staying here and letting things cool down...Just wanted to let you know first.” 

 John’s lips release a hum before he runs a hand over his beard and scratches the skin under the bristles. Dirt and flecks of ash fall to the floor, but he doesn’t notice.

“I’ll see if I can’t finish up here within the next few weeks. Come back to London early and help you figure all of this out. Look into it myself if I have to.” 

“You don’t have to do that, John. I know your work is important.” 

“You’re important, Love,” The man teases, “The Op. over here has run dry, the leads have gone for the moment and there’s no reason for Laswell to keep us here cleaning the empty rooms; I know for a fact I’m able to make sure you’re safe far better than anyone else back home. I can be back soon,” He growls, and his accent becomes thicker as he continues on in the ‘Captain Voice’ you had grown to love, “I’ll bloody make sure of it.” 

“How have things been, by the way?” You ask, steering the conversation away from you, worried about how his efforts had affected him. He sounded tired, “Everyone’s alright? No new injuries, I hope. I don’t know if I can deal with you coming back and having another gunshot wound right now – you know how I get when I’m doting over you.” 

“Hm,” John huffs, amused. He remembers how, when he had come back once with a shot to the thigh, you had practically restrained him to the bed as you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. You had cooked, cleaned, and even helped him into the bath as his humongous body had towered over you. But it wasn’t like he was complaining about the last one, “Nothing to twist your hair over.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Only scrapes and bruises on my part. Should’ve seen the other guy.” 

Laswell enters the room silently as you giggle, heels not making a sound as she lowers her personal phone from her ear and closes the door behind her, “My contact is en route to your house, John. He’s going to check in and get a statement. With any luck, she’ll get a security detail to bring her to and from wherever she needs to go.” 

“You hear that, Love?” John shifts his narrowed eyes to the landline after nodding. 

“Yup,” You muttered, spirits now higher and the waver in your voice noticeably gone. There was no doubt that over the line you were calmer than you had been in probably over a month. John just had that effect on you, “I really can’t thank you enough, Laswell. And I’m so sorry for invading your privacy by calling you like that.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Anyone important to John is just as important to everyone over here. We take care of our own…The man that’s going to be coming to your door is named Mahdi Karim – black hair, tanned skin, and a cut just above his right eyebrow. Should be in a police uniform.” 

“I’ll be on the lookout. Thank you, Kate. Truly. If you ever find yourself in London, I make a great casserole – just ask John. My door’ll be open.”

Laswell smiles softly, wrinkles disappearing for a brief second, and John can’t stop the wave of love that sweeps his gaze. He stops a lovesick sigh just before it enters the air. 

“Be safe,” Kate tells you, “I’m sure John will be in touch with you soon and I’ll be sure to have a secure line ready to go.” Laswell nods before turning to John, “You were needed in building five for a debrief fifteen minutes ago. Gaz has been asking around for you…sorry, but you’ll have to make the goodbye quick.” 

John looks away, jerking his head into a firm nod and groaning out, “Affirm. Tell the Sergeant that I’ll be there in a minute for me, yeah?” 

“On it.”

“I’m sure Gaz is ripping the place apart for you, Love,” You laugh, and John’s eyes snap to the landline to give his attention back to you. Like a wave in an ocean, “Don’t keep him waiting. From what you tell me the boy can get into a startling degree of trouble when you’re not with him…something about falling out of a helicopter?” 

John feels his chest jerk with chuckles. What did he do to deserve you? Someone who could make him forget about the aches in his shoulder muscles from the stock of his M13 – forget about the layers of sweat, blood, and dirt seeping into his pores; death lives on him like a second skin. But, strangely, you either didn’t notice or didn’t care. That was the part that struck John every time you barreled into his chest when he came home – you stayed by his side so adamantly; waited every time he left and was over the moon when he returned. 

You love him, and he doesn’t think he deserves it. But like the selfish man he is, he’ll keep you at his side as long as he’s able, and love you back just the same. You were one in a million. And the thought of someone reducing you to something other than a god-send – to a mere object someone could prey on was enough to reduce the Captain to a feral rage. 

If I ever get my hands on the prick that made her feel like this, he’s as good as dead. Mark my fucken’ words – he’s dead.

“I’ll call you tonight, Love, you alright with that?” John clears his throat, grunting as he stands from the desk chair, “Around 0900 your time?”

“That’s nine O’clock, yeah?” You continue not waiting for him to answer, “...How late is that for you?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still ‘gonna call.” 

You seemed to know that trying to sway him on this was pointless by the way you muffled an exasperated laugh, “Alright. Nine O’clock. I’ll answer.”

“You better,” John huffs, “Goodbye, Love. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, John. Be safe – Love you.”

“Love you, too. Be safe for me.” He whispers, letting you hang up the phone instead of him. Kate and he stand in silence for a moment before John growls, eyes suddenly burning. It was like his only tie to being civil was severed after your presence – even as limited as it was through a call – disappeared, “I want whoever’s doing this put in cuffs before I’m back in London, Laswell, yeah? Otherwise, it’ll be someone else's bloody problem to pick up the pieces I leave behind of whatever bastard is responsible for this.”

—

Mahdi Karim was perhaps the only person in London that listened to you. He had told you in a soft tone as the both of you sat in John’s dark living room that he would work on the case you had brought forward personally – with the influence of Kate Laswell giving him all the jurisdiction he needed. 

You had briefly wondered how far Laswell’s hand reached into the inner working of the city’s police force but had decided it was probably better if you never figured that out. For just one American CIA agent – she sure knew how to play the game to her favor. 

“I’ll make sure to have another officer with you when you need to leave the house – Mrs. Talley – whenever you need to go somewhere she’ll be just a call away.” Mr. Karim had told you as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap, “And I’ll be at the station working on leads. Kate told me that you had handwritten notes?”

“Yeah,” You cleared your throat, nodding as you stare out the window; the street lights come on outside with an automatic timer. Your lips flattened, whispering out, “They’re all in my work bag.” 

God, you wished John was here. He would have held you to his chest with a firm hand on the back of your head; all-encompassing and steady as his heart beat directly over your ear with a steady thum-thump, thum-thump. John’s heart was always something of a comfort to you. When he was with you, staying the night, you wanted to keep your head on his chest and feel the melody of his pulse lull you into a slumber – like your own personal lullaby. 

It reminded you he was here; alive, and in turn, it kept you steady. His gentle kisses to your hairline were just another perk along with his fingers carding through your locks. Whenever he did that you swore you turned to mush, just like a cat letting out vibrating purrs. There were so many things that John Price did that could calm you down without even trying – the way he slow danced with you when you put his vinyl records on, his fascination with old movies to the point his eyes would light up when he explained them to you, and the press of his gargantuan body laying on top of you. 

That last thought brought a smile to your lips. He was always worried he would crush you.

“You sure, Love?” He would ask when you smiled smugly from your position lying on the couch, “I’d hate to have my girl suffocate because she asked me to lay on top of her. You trying to get me arrested?”

“John,” You had laughed, “I’ll tell you if I can’t breathe. I just want to feel you. It’s like a weighted blanket – just more you shaped! Come on,” You whine playfully, arms outstretched and making grabby hands, “Please?”

The man huffed, smirking before shaking his head and sending you a warm glance. He stalks over to come and lay on top of you, his thin shirt letting you memorize the press of his abs and pecks sliding over your body; the dig of his biceps over the small of your back as they circle behind you. John lay in between your legs, forcing them open and around his fitted thighs before your limbs slip down his legs. Your hand had gravitated to his soft brown locks, messing them up lovingly with a chuckle and a soft smile. The Captain’s head was tilted up, beard itching your neck as his grip over your waist lightly squeezed over your shirt. You stared down at him with that look on your face – the one you reserved only for John. 

Against better judgment, you feel a heat enter your body at the heavy press of his pelvis slotted perfectly into you. And the way he was staring up at you, his large nose just by your chin…

A cheeky smile filters over your boyfriend’s bearded face as you caress his forehead with your thumb. John’s eyes crinkle. 

“This what you had in mind, Doll?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t enjoy this, Captain.” His eyes had sparked, narrowing as he paused a moment. 

A deep chuckle rattled against your body, and John tried to press you tighter into him; leaving you softly yelping in surprise, eyes widening, even though the glee stayed. The action was incredibly soft and left a deep yearning in your compressed lungs. As you sucked in small breaths, you found John’s dilated eyes watching you closely; like a deep blue river around a circular black rock. The gaze left a heat flowing to your face and neck – a pulsing in your lower body. You resisted the urge to roll your hips as your legs tighten around his own.

“Hm,” The man grunted, making your breath stutter for a moment. He felt it and smirked.

“Hm, what?” You ask breathlessly, John’s nose moving up your neck and tilting your head back. 

You open the skin to him readily; your skull falling back to the arm of the couch. Gasping, John’s lips pull apart, teeth grazing your pulse point before finding the one spot that makes you whimper. He lays open mouth kisses and swift nips, leaving the area red and pulsing causing your eyelids to flutter shut with pleasure. The heavy set of your boyfriend’s build makes the sparks that he leaves behind with his mouth increase tenfold. The man’s fingers dig into your waist, kneading the flesh.

You let out a breathless whimper as your hand trailed through his hair, pulling at the roots and leaving John grunting as they get messed up. Suddenly, with a sharp and confident bite to that perfect spot behind your ear, his hips lightly jump up into you; pelvis bones digging into the skin of your inner thighs as the fabric of your shorts hitch up. 

A breathly keen escapes your lips before you can bite onto your lips to stop it. Burning, your face moves closer to John’s as he licks the hickey he made and blows on it. You shiver as his lips pull in a smirk against your skin.

“This your plan all along, Pet? Get me to give you a good fuck?” John clicks his tongue, “Naughty girl. You know what you do to me – just had to bloody ask if you wanted me stretching you open.” 

His accent always became more pronounced when you both were horny; rutting against each other like animals. John sends another thrust up into you and your eyes roll back, eyelids snapping shut at the steadily growing feeling of wetness staining your panties. Fuck, you needed him – now.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. If you like me pressing into you so much, maybe I’ll take that cunt of yours right here, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucken’ hell I think I enjoy this just as much as you do.”

“Please…” You sigh, gasping as John grabs your hips and starts to force you to move in tandem with him; fingers digging into your bare flesh. Fuck that felt good – all his weight on you as your breath was forced to puff out when his chest bore down on you with every orchestrated pump of his pelvis.

“Please, what? Use your words now…Hm,” He angles deeper, and your nails dig into his back, sliding under his shirt and attacking his skin, “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you? You’re trying so hard to get me in that cunt of yours, might have to hurry this up.”

“Please, C-captain.” Your face burns, words coming out muffled as his lips smash to yours and forces his tongue down your throat.

“...There’s a good fucken’ girl.” One of his large hands moves to your abdomen, just about big enough to span the entire area of your skin before traveling down slowly to enter your shorts. His callouses burn so perfectly.

Shaking your head, you realize Mr. Karim was waiting for you to give him the notes. Startling, you stand and send him an apologetic glance before rushing to the kitchen and grabbing your bag off the counter, rifling through it with a quick hand. 

Pulling out all of the black paper notes, you turn back to Karim and shuffle up to him, “Here.” 

Holding out the notes and trying not to look at them, the man takes them from you with a gentle pull. Mahdi gave you a pitying look.

“I’ll get these dusted for prints and try and see if we have any records of the handwriting in our database.” 

“Okay,” You mutter, nodding, “Do…you need me to come with?”

Mahdi shakes his head, hair moving around his head, “No. You’re free to stay here and get your bearings.” The man stands, his officer uniform’s badge glinting in the light from outside, “How about you order out? Get some food and take a nap, yeah? Leave the rest to me, Ma’am.” 

He makes his way over to the front door and you trail behind, flicking on the outside house light for him but leaving the interiors pointedly off.

“Stay safe. Lock the door after me, okay?” 

“Yeah,” You lock your fingers together in front of your stomach, “No problem. Drive carefully, Mr. Karim, and thank you for coming by.”

“Anytime you need something done and no one’s listening – come directly to me. Sleep tight.” With that, the officer opens the door and disappears, going to his car in the driveway. Closing the door immediately after his departure, you watch his vehicle take off into the dark night with a tight chest. 

Clicking the double locks and turning off the outside light, you suck in a deep breath before turning around and falling back to place your spine on the woodgrain. You slide to the floor, eyes turning glassy. 

Mahdi said to order out – not strain yourself. But you had no appetite, even if you hadn’t eaten lunch today. Your stomach was in twists, intestines clogged with bad thoughts and concern. Closing your eyes, you waited for John’s call tonight at nine, tension living like a weight over your shoulders and neck. 

You would have much preferred your boyfriend’s mass holding you down instead of this, but no matter how much you wished you knew he wasn’t coming back to you for a while. But you’re patient. You can wait. 

—

You still hadn’t gone back to work even after Jess had told you the flowers had stopped – about two and a half weeks later. The older woman had said over the phone that Don had come by the building to explain that no more requests for delivery were coming in, either. That had made you breathe a sigh of relief. 

Maybe this is coming to an end, You had thought while pulling John’s green comforter closer to your chin, fixing the position of the phone over your ear as Jess comments on the handsome officer that had come in and asked about you. 

You blinked, cocking a brow.

“I told him you were staying at your boyfriend's house – had to give him the street too – though I don’t know why he had to ask me, Dear. He seemed quite pushy too. Such a dreadful boy. It’s a good thing you found that John of yours, I–”

Your ears started ringing halfway through the word vomit, eyes stuck onto the ceiling as the whites show like snow in the corners of your orbs. The quivering of your lip was the only part of you that moved – frozen over with frost and piloting stiff limbs. The comforter was suddenly suffocating you. 

“Jess,” You calmly spit out, breath hitching as you interrupt. The woman pauses over the line, and she asks if you were alright. Ignoring her, your fingers turn numb, “Did he show you a badge?” 

“Why, yes, of course, he did – it was a silver…oh…oh my…”

Silence falls, a tense rope being tightened over your throat as you sit up slowly, pushing the covers off of you with a shaking hand.

“Police badges are gold.” Dropping the phone from your vibrating fingers onto the bed, you rush to the dresser, pulling on John’s gray sweatpants over your underwear and grabbing a stray t-shirt to sit on top of your thin tank top. Nearly tripping over your feet, you huff out uneven breaths as you hang up on a blabbering Jess, quickly finding Mahdi Karim’s contact information and slamming a finger onto the green call icon. 

It takes three rings before the man picks up, and hot adrenaline is lighting your nerves; telling you to run and hide. John’s scent – gunpowder, pine needles, and smoke – is ingrained in the clothes you wear and yet you can’t bring any comfort from it. Your bones weigh more than lead, one hand going to cover your mouth to stifle a ragged inhalation as Karim’s confused voice comes through the receiver. You jump into an explanation with a waving hand, and the man says he’ll be over himself in just fifteen minutes while another officer goes to your work to get a statement from Jess. 

He hangs up first.

Fifteen minutes, You think about calling John but don’t want to phone him on his flight. He had said he should be back today or tomorrow the last time you both had spoken – when he was boarding the C-17, the whirling of the large plane’s engines blocking out everything else besides his voice. Carrying yourself into the living room, you reach up and close all the curtains; double-check the door locks, and clutch your phone in your hand with white knuckles near your hip, I don’t even know how long this guy has had his head start on me. What if he’s already outside the door?

Licking your lips, your mind runs with scenarios – what if this deranged person broke down the door? Ripped the window off its frame and jumped in? Your eyes snapped to and fro as your feet shuffled back over the hardwood; trying to figure out if you should go wait for Mahdi somewhere not near the front of the house or stay to make sure no one suspicious was walking outside. 

You chose a middle ground, moving into the kitchen and pacing with your bare feet as the morning light streamed in from under the fabric barrier over the window. Fifteen minutes passed far too slowly. 

A knock sounded on the door, and you rushed to the entrance to sneak a look out the sidelight. Mahdi stood shuffling in his uniform, peering behind him and speaking into a radio on his vest with tight features. You open the door with a shaking grip and usher the man inside with fearful glances behind him. 

Mahdi takes a few steps inside, keeping the door open behind him and frantically grabbing you by the arm. His eyes are wild.

You yelp.

“We have to get you to a secure area – quickly.”

“B-but I–” You send a glance behind you, not entirely willing to leave John’s house and the familiar solace it brings. You only utter half a sentence, not even able to explain your hesitance, before a sound like a great boom echoes into the morning air. Some type of liquid splatters the side of your face, dripping down your forehead before falling off your chin and your eyes snap shut instinctually.

Only able to flinch with a slight yell, you turn back just in time to lock onto Mr. Karim’s face. Or lack thereof. 

Half of the man’s visage was gone – white skull visible to the naked eye as the eviscerated tendons of his jaw leave the orientation off; hanging off his face and only on the unmarred side. Mahdi’s brain matter was splattered over your face, and your eyes widen in horror at the realization that you can see what remains of the officer’s cerebrum in the now half-circle of his skull. His remaining eye was bulging like an egg – nearly popping out and bouncing on the floor.

All of this happened in only half a second – the gunshot, you getting bathed in perhaps more blood than you initially realized, and then the limp body of kind Mahdi Karim falling into you; dead. His weight hits your numb body, your eyes wide, and your mind a thousand miles away as your arms snap to steady him. Your phone falls to the floor, with a deep thump, and at this point, you don’t register the fact that the man’s dead in your arms until it’s too late.

His head hits your shoulder, and your ears twitch at the sound of a wet splat – something mushy hits the floor before you stumble a few steps backward. Baptized in blood. It coats you like a second skin. How could a human body hold so much blood?

“...Mahdi?” You whimper, ears ringing and body shaking so badly you feel the man slide off you. The corpse slams to the floor, vibrating the hardwood. 

Your hands are held outstretched, fingers clenching and unclenching in shock. You don’t notice the shadow running up to you before the man has you by the wrist. The phantom utters your name into the air just as you notice the neighbor across the street rush to her front window.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry – I’ve got you.” 

Reality comes to you in the thin moments between the realization that Karim’s body was bleeding all over John’s foyer and the knowledge that you were being dragged outside. For everything that was going on, you can’t help that your first coherent thought is ‘John’s going to have to replace the hardwood. That’s so expensive…I’ll have to pitch in.’

When your heels get skinned on the hard concrete is the exact moment you felt a shred of sanity come back and weave its way into your brain. 

“What the fuck?!” Screaming, your arm jerks back, eyes borderline feral as the adrenaline finally prompted you to consciousness. Looking up as the stranger's grip only tightens to a painful degree you stifle an enraged wail.

The man was familiar to you – not in a ‘this is my friend I've known for years’ type of way but more of a ‘this is a man I’ve seen in passing’ you think to yourself. 

It was the waiter. 

The fucking waiter from the restaurant you and John had gone to for your first official date. He had heard you talking about your favorite flowers while he poured you wine…

But that was upwards of a year and a half ago. Your skin crawled, feeling violated in such a way you had never experienced before.

As you feel your heart bursting through your chest, you bring your opposite hand up and clench it; trying to land a sucker punch to the bastard's smug face as he stares at you with dark eyes. Your fist grazes his cheek, bearly causing a reaction. 

His other hand holds a revolver, glinting in the light.

Before your shock-filled brain can attempt to understand what's exactly going on, the Waiter’s gun raises as your nails scratch at his face, peeling back skin and leaving red lines behind. As the butt of the weapon slams into your temple, the last words you hear are uttered right next to your ear – foreign lips whispering the sentences and making you want to throw up. Maybe you do, but you can’t be sure at that moment.

“I’ll take care of you, Orchid. Better than John Price ever could. Steady now. I’ve got you.”

Hands drag you by the arms, and you hear the opening of a rusty car door before you’re thrown into the back seat. Images swirl in your vision, and blood makes your skin taunt with gore. 

Your last thoughts are of John’s blue eyes.

—

The first sensation you feel is the tight bindings over your wrists and ankles. They weren't rough – and you instantly knew the restrictions didn’t have the fibers belonging to hard rope. Keeping your eyes closed as the pulse in your head pounds to a degree that leaves your hands shaking, you strain your ears. The wooden chair keeping you up leaves your neck limp; chin compressed into your collarbone.

To your left, your ears twitch at a noise. Classical music wafts like wind off walls you choose not to open your eyes and see. But based on the echos the room is small – not large enough to allow the tune to carry far. Your feet shuffle, and in the process your knee slams into a hard object that leaves you clenching your jaw to stop a yelp of pain. 

The jolt causes a reverb of wood sliding over the floor. Lightly peaking an eye open your blurry vision lands on the tall table in front of you – the stain is patchy, with paint flecks living on the legs as you look down. A morbid curiosity flows through you, and your horrified gaze jumps from one object to another; your chest palpitating. 

Everything in this room was worn down, old, and ancient. A radio sits to your left on a nightstand with one duck-taped leg; the momentary static that overtakes the eerily playing tune shows that the device was having trouble receiving the channel. 

Where am I? You ask yourself, looking at the table with a set of dust-layered plates and utensils. Two wine glasses glint in a single overhead light attached to a roof that comes to a sloping stop. This looked like a dingy attic room – the type where the Christmas decorations were shoved away to rot for a whole year and where young children were terrified to enter. Sniffing as your hands experimentally clench, you catch the scent of rotting wood and water damage. 

“...What the…?” Your lips grunt out, shaking your head to dispel the fog as you notice the blue silk bindings keeping you tied to a white-painted wooden chair. No one else was in here except for you, “What is this?”

Jerking your arms, your mind runs over the obscure facts that John would drop – either calling attention to the true crime shows you would watch in your free time or simply because of his extensive service career. 

Most people who are abducted are killed within a short amount of time from when they’re taken…three out of five women who are in this situation are sexually assaulted, abused, or exploited, You pull more heavily at your binds, feeling one on your left leg loosen as you let out a wavering sigh of achievement, Only 0.1% of people are abducted by strangers.

“Fucking hell,” You whimper as a pulse from your blood-stained temple leaves you light-headed, “Add me into that percentage, I guess.” Your thoughts border on hysterical, sweat coating your hands as a humorless chuckle shakes from your throat. You have to bite your lip to shut yourself up from divulging into loud barks of laughter.

The silk digging into your skin holds, and you don’t dare make any more noise than you already are. Looking around frantically, your flickering eyes land on the twin forks on the table; tantalizingly out of reach and mocking you. 

“Oh, screw you,” Growling, you throw your head back and try and look behind you, straining your neck to a point you start restricting your airways – maybe there was something of use? 

Nothing. Just a window covered in newspaper and the faint glow of a setting sun. You hadn’t even thought of the time. How long had you been unconscious? The blood staining you from head to toe was all dried and made your clothes hard and stiff; the wound at your temple had stopped bleeding. You licked your lips and couldn’t stop the sting in your eyes. 

Hours had passed. Precious hours. 

John has to be back in London by now, You reason, hoping against hope, He knows I’m gone and’ll be on it in no time. I have to hold out until then. 

Gasping at your lack of air, you turn your head back around and cough into your shoulder raggedly; sucking down breaths. Black dots fly over your vision in squiggly patterns. 

In that moment of trying to get your lungs to understand you weren't dying, a sound had started up from below your feet in this decrepit house. At first, you hadn’t noticed it – the thumps so muffled your mind had mistaken them for your own skipping heartbeat, but then there was muttering. 

Someone was speaking to themselves downstairs. Your body froze; becoming so still that not even your hair moved with the shallow puffs from your nostrils. It was like your nerves had turned to stone, and your ears strained to hear. 

“...hope she likes it…worked so hard to make it perfect…” Footsteps bounce off the wood as your eyes stay locked onto the door directly across the room. It wasn’t long before the handle started to jiggle. 

Keeping a scream locked in your throat, John’s voice comes to you from between the racing of your mind. 

He had been telling you about how he was captured by Russian Special Forces on one of his Black Ops. – totally alone and unable to contact his team.

“But I had to play their game,” John had muttered into your hairline; laying gentle kisses as you caressed a long scar up his abdomen and right peck. He grumbled his appreciation, shivering as your nails raked through his chest hair, “Make them think I was giving them what they wanted until I could loosen the rope.”

“That sounds stressful,” You had murmured, pressing your lips to his raised skin and feeling his mustache nuzzle your forehead with a delicate scrape, “How did you manage it, Love?”

“Well, I had years of practice under my belt.” John’s eyebrow rose with a smirk, “But they also knew what to expect from me right off the bloody bat – I just had to surprise ‘em; to keep them on their high horse. A little white lie is better than a punch to the gut, eh?”

The door opens, and a plan already starts to form before it closes with the click of a lock.

“Orchid!” You flinch, your body throwing itself back into the chair as your head snaps to face the entrance. The Waiter’s head of blonde hair was greasy with a product – slicked back and trimmed. Red marks are traveling down his face from your nails.

He was handsome, tall in a lanky sort of way, and in a suit; holding a handful of blue Hydrangeas and white Orchids. Even looking at the flowers causes your stomach to roll; bile to fill the base of your throat and burn to be expelled. 

You decided at that instant that you never wanted to see any type of flower again for the rest of your life. 

“You look stunning, My Love!” The man exclaims, rushing into the small space; placing the flowers down on the table delicately, and grabbing you by the cheeks. 

You let a small sob, trying to move farther back but his fingers only dig deeper and threaten to break skin. Something flashes over his dark gaze, irritating perhaps, or pleasure from seeing you finally in front of him? You don’t like either option.

Play the game; buy time.

But could you play it correctly with all the raging blood pumping through your veins? Hot sweat slithering down your spine like a snake? Would John find you before something horrible happened? 

“What’s the matter?” The Waiter asks you, caressing your cheek with one of his thumbs, “I’m sure I didn’t hit you so hard you forgot me? Right?” 

“O-of course not.” You choke out, voice hoarse. If your chest was any tighter it would implode on itself. 

The Waiters eyes brighten. 

“But,” The light overhead sways, and a slight pattering over the window hints at a coming rainstorm, “I think I must have forgotten your name – my head hurts really bad.” Stifling a yell, the man’s head rears back in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” He gasps, removing his hands and shuffling back a few steps. You move your wrists experimentally, but the silk was still tight over you, “I was just so concerned you might start screaming,” The bastard dares to laugh, a sultry bark of a sound – nothing like John’s deep grumble, “I’m Colby, there, now you must remember me.” 

Colby was speaking so normally it made you even more afraid of him, but you still made a smile flicker over your quivering lips.

“That’s right,” You say, “Colby. I remember.” 

He smiles with all teeth, but his eyes hold nothing inside of them; his dress shoes click over the floor as he shuffles to the opposite end of the table to the empty chair. Colby moves the plates and utensils. One is placed carefully in front of you and after a moment the position is fixed by his slender fingers like he had envisioned this moment millions of times over. 

“I’m making dinner downstairs – Honey Roasted Duck. One of your favorites. You told,” Colby grumbles, venom leaking into his tone. His digits tighten before they slam a fork down on your plate. Your legs jerk, knee once more slamming into the table leg and making you hiss in pain. Colby doesn’t notice, thankfully, “John Price when we met for the first time, but I always listened better than him. He’s never made you Honey Roasted Duck before.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You try and reason, body shaking violently; your leg starts to struggle as you attempt to loosen the already slack silk of your left leg, “But, uhm, how am I going to eat my favorite food if my hands are tied?” 

“I’m going to feed you myself. Don’t worry, my Love.” Colby looks up and shakes his head, locks flying. He sets the glasses down and takes a step back, looking at the scene with roving eyes. 

“Oh,” You swallow the saliva in your throat, “But I don’t want to be a burden. I just want to–”

“No!” Colby suddenly yells, eyes flashing and making you release a yelp in fear, “I’m going to help you – what don’t you understand about that?!” 

“Okay!” You appease, waving your hands up as far as their able. A panicked look crosses your face and your eyebrows draw in, “Okay, but c-could you at least loosen them a small bit, please – I promise you I want to stay with you but my arms are losing circulation. It’s hurting me, Colby.” 

Colby’s expression is hesitant, lips taking a downturn as the storm outside starts to pick up, the wind hitting the house and shaking the walls. Rain slaps the window like tiny bullets. 

You try not to think about Mahdi Karim – about his body laying in John’s foyer. But he had been so nice to you. Your head starts running, running over possibilities about the officer's life. What if he had a family? A spouse? Kids?

Fuck, Your throat tightens, and your nose scrunches right after. Tears burn the side of your vision and a slight sniffle enters the stale air. Everything becomes blurry in a vile vale of waterworks. The agony at your temple increases as you tilt your head up to the ceiling, don’t cry. 

“No, no, no, Orchid,” Colby pleads, “Don’t cry! I’m sorry it hurts but It’s for your own safety.” He rushes over grabbing onto your shoulders, digging his fingers into the meat of our skin over John’s bloodied shirt.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You scream, your voice echoing off the walls as you begin to struggle. You weren’t John. You couldn’t play this game, “You goddamn freak! You killed Mahdi! I’m-I’m covered in his blood!” 

A clammy hand snaps over your neck, restricting your airways. 

Your eyes bulge; body stiffening as your mouth gasps open like a fish. The grip is hard – firm – and you already mark the way your legs try and break out of the silk from under you in desperation. Your mid-section dances around, arms bounce, and hands splay.

Colby only stops when you feel your own saliva drip down the side of your mouth, and the struggle has left your body until dark dots nearly swallow you whole. 

His hands fall, and your head does as well. Wheezing and feeling the burning in your throat, above the ringing in your ears, you make out the man’s sobbing snarl.

“Why would you make me do that?! God, can’t you see I’m trying to make things work?! God this is all that John’s fault. He’s the one that got in the way!” He stomps out of the door, slamming it so loud that everything on the table either falls to its side or hits the floor. The click of a lock is heard a second later as you try and will away the burning in your lungs as lightning cracks outside.

Gasping and feeling your tears slap your sweatpants like a river, you whimper under your breath but find that speaking only makes your neck hurt ten times worse, “John.” 

You stay in that room for two days. No food. No water. Colby had all but disappeared except for his muttering from downstairs and his shuffling; the occasional shadow would stand in the hallway just behind your door. In all that time the storm hadn’t let up and from what you could tell there was a leak in the attic ceiling because the constant drip of water was sounding off from behind you.

Drip-drop, drip-drop, drip-drop. 

You don’t know when the idea first pops into your head – maybe it’s when Colby finally peaks inside on that second day near suppertime – but since seeing the broken pieces of the plate on the floor a grim silence had settled in your bones. 

Colby doesn’t linger and with a promise of coming to check in on you later and ‘make up’ the deep swelling bruises along your neck pulse. It felt like your entire throat was held under a knife that was slowly being rocked back and forth like a seesaw, peeling back the blackened skin until your tendons and nerves were open to the air. 

Swallowing a thick glob of saliva and mucus down your dry throat, your foot catches on one of the longer plate fragments which ends with a razor-sharp tip. You know the sharp edge bites into your flesh, piercing it as your toes angle it just right but silk was an easy fabric to rip if you got the right angle, and pain had now become secondary. 

Survival was all that mattered – not how, just that you made it out of this with your head screwed on. 

What would John think about all of this? You numbly wondered, hunger and thirst working their way through you as your foot tilts up, heel hitting the floor. With a tooth biting into your lip, you drag the fragment back and begin pinching it into the flesh of the front of your upper ankle – right where the top edge of the silk skins you. Struggling the last two days had given you nothing but weeping wrists and ankles; blisters that leak puss and stain the blue fabric a nasty yellow.

Sucking in a quick breath that leaves more tears gathering in your eye sockets, your lashes flutter over your cheeks just as you hear a small tear. You jerk your leg up, and the silk completely falls from you, ripped with the sound of a zipper playing like a melody in your ear.  

The plate piece clinks to the floor nearly soundlessly and the storm covers for you as a bewildered smile cracks your lips open. 

I did it! 

You look down, and with your free limb, you go to pull the knot on your other ankle, eventually just getting to a point where you pull so hard one of your toenails completely rips off. Not even noticing, your continue until the floor is pooling with your blood, nails having completely torn into the flesh of your restrained leg until, once more, the silk tears with a blue glint. 

Yes! 

Pushing yourself up, you stop yourself from passing out by focusing on the broken wine glass on the table, stumbling forward, and nearly falling right into the table in the process. A moment later your fingers are all cut to hell, having grasped the glass and moving the pieces in your hand until one the right size cuts your palm open. Panting like a dog and whimpering, you tilt your mangled hand and use the piece to cut away half of your remaining restraints. 

Just like that, You tell yourself, just like that. 

The chair clatters to the floor just as you free your last hand. 

Remaining frozen, stilled into shock, the house goes silent in an instant. No shuffling. No muttering. Stale air and a storm that rages outside. 

You take a breath…then two. 

Maybe he didn’t hear–!

Running footsteps are coming up the stairs. They slam into the wood, and an enraged shout spurs your leaking body into action. There was only one way out of the house from this level – one exit that Colby wouldn’t take even if you were stupid enough to. But what choice did you have? By the time the door was blasted off its hinges by a rampaging man with a revolver, your body was disappearing from the attic window – the one once covered by newspapers that you had spied the first time you woke up. The storm pounded, and for a moment you imagined you were a raindrop, falling from the clouds to hit the earth and shatter into a million invisible pieces. 

In essence that’s exactly what you did. You fell. You hit. You broke. 

But adrenaline is a powerful drug. 

As Colby stands awe-stricken in what remains of the window, not even able to aim his revolver. Your body jolts up from a three-story drop into a dead bush and peels out over the abandoned neighborhood; old houses falling apart and more broken down than the last. 

You pant and sob, knowing that many of your ribs were broken even if you had never experienced the sensation before, and push on with failing legs. Glass sticks from our skin like porcupine quills, leaving stains of gore behind you as our blood footprints are washed away by the rain. 

It’s completely dark out – not a single street light on or able to illuminate your flooded concrete path.

Slamming into the side of a house, you scream, knowing your arm shouldn't be hanging like that by your side but not there enough to care. Rain pelts your head, cleansing you of the blood and puss and everything else. 

Taking a confusing path through the alleyways and open backyards, your feet dig into the mushy grass until you zip around a corner. Running so fast and banking so suddenly you don’t have time to stop yourself before you’re slamming into a wall. The solid mass causes your body to reel back, a wet, strangled, gasp ripping from you. Your clothes only add to the weight of your limbs as you fall a weak outcry meeting the air. 

But before your body can slam into the ground a weight snaps to your wrist and a frantic voice meets the air. Not a wall, then.

“Holy fucken’ shit!” The masculine voice coated in surprise meets your ringing ears above the downpour, British in accent, “Ma’am?!” 

The world is blurry, but with your flickering eyes you can make out a dark face, a ball cap with the British flag embroidered on the front, and wide brown eyes set into a visage with light stubble. He wears gear that you had become familiar with – John wore something similar; a beige vest with packs and straps down his arms and legs. An M13 hangs over his chest, his other hand holding it steady by the side.

“Ma’am?! Are you alright?” The world snaps back into focus, a great snarl of wind ripping down the alleyway and ruffling your frame, “Can you tell me your name?”

Wait, You blinked sluggishly, Didn’t John show me a picture of his teammates? Why does this guy look familiar?

Your boyfriend had a single picture of him and all of his Task Force buddies put in his living room above the fireplace – when you had asked about who he worked with he had grabbed it and told you. It put you at ease to know that in the field he was surrounded by the impressive caliber that the sill image had shown. John had been all too happy to tell funny stories about incidents in the field; careful to leave all the bits that he didn’t want you to hear, out. 

“Kyle Garrick?” The words sound like nails on a chalkboard; eyes narrow on both sides, yours in fatigue and his in confusion. You shiver and shake before weakly trying to pull your hand away from him. His grip remains firm, but not enough to hurt. The soldier moves his gaze down your body, eyelids lifting. 

“Fuck.” After the exclamation, Kyle brings you into him, just as you feel your legs tremble and buckle. Collapsing into his chest and feeling your body press uncomfortably into his pouches as you let out a bleat in genuine agony that most would only hear in a movie. 

The man utters your name breathlessly into that air and you resist a sob that bubbles in your chest.

“Bloody hell, Sweetheart, you’re coming with me. I’ll get you out of here, just keep your eyes open a little longer.” Kyle’s arms travel down wrapping around the backs of your knees and lifting. You yell, eyes scrunching, as waves of heat travel down your spine, “I’ve got you.”

The sentiment was nice, and the man that John calls ‘Gaz’ is incredibly kind, but you don’t want his arms around you – you want your boyfriend’s. 

Where’s John?

Gaz huffs as he stares down at you, cataloging the bruises and cuts – the dislocated arm that hangs uselessly out of his hold. Your head is pressed into his neck, the Sergeant’s reliable body suddenly taking off at a quick pace through the alleyway, boots rushing over puddles and garbage with surety. 

Off farther down the street, enraged screaming echoes out and you force yourself deeper into Gaz’s grip. The man curses under his breath, taking a turn out into the road and booking it with his long legs. Over the pounding of his heart in your ear Kyle’s fingers dig into your clothes, keeping you tight against him. After a minute of jerkily bouncing in his hold, Gaz’s feet stomp up a set of old wooden stairs, causing your body to flinch up and down. He utters a soft apology and shoulders his way into an abandoned house.

The decaying door smacks the far wall as the man drags rainwater all the way into the front hallway.

“Ghost! We have a problem - A big one – where have the other two gone?” 

A voice wavers in from upstairs as Gaz sets you on your feet, guiding you by your shoulders to lean against the wall as he takes frantic glances outside. He shuts the door quickly; letting darkness once more descend in the sheltered area.

“What you mean ‘we have a problem?’” Gaz brings a flashlight from his front pouch, coming up to you and grabbing you lightly by the chin. 

“Careful, Love,” He mutters, clicking the light on, “I just need to shine this in your eyes, yeah? Won’t take more than a second.”

You swallow and send a small twitch of your lips in approval but even that hurts. Your eyes squint when the man finally angles the flashlight right in front of his face, moving it back and forth from one of your orbs to another. It makes your eyes water, but you can’t tell if that’s from the heavy realization of what’s happened to you or if the light only agitates the sensitive makeup of your optics. 

“Sergeant?” That same voice flows from upstairs, and footsteps suddenly thunder from above. The sound makes you flinch back, snapping your head away from the light and locking to the staircase at the far end of the hallway. Gaz clears his throat ahead of you.

“It’s just Ghost – a-a friend. He’s here to help you.” Your lips thin but you nod carefully. 

A hulk of a man comes down to the ground floor, clothed in the same attire as Gaz beside a half-skull mask that covers his face. Under the covering, a black sheet sits over his head. You can only see Ghost’s eyes – blue and numb. Much colder than John’s…like ice rather than a Blue Bird’s underbelly. 

He stops for a moment and the two of you lock eyes. Shuffling, you look away first, gaze flickering to the side as Gaz stands to his full height. 

“Bloody hell,” Ghost monotones, “That her, then?” 

“Get the Captain and Soap on the radio, I need to stop the bleeding,” Gaz barks, grabbing you around your shoulders and practically dragging your body into the adjacent room – the living room, “Tell them I got her and that we need Medical Evac!” He sets you down on the couch and kneels on the floor; digging through his equipment and sending quick glances from under his cap at your rapidly deteriorating state.

You never registered Kyle’s sentence – already the veil at the edges of your vision is taking over. Your pain had begun to dim. In your mind, you knew that was bad but couldn’t, at that moment, care. The glass still sticks out of you, your bones still broken and arm dislocated; feet bleeding and neck more black and blue than any other color, but the euphoric feeling in your brain was enough to block it all out. Mahdi Karim’s life, at that moment, had never ended and you don’t wear the evidence in streaks down your face or on John’s clothes. 

“Hey,” Gaz lightly taps your forehead with a finger, making your eyes refocus for a moment before they blur again, “Hey, now,” He attempts to smile, forcing out a chuckle, “Come on, keep those eyes at me. I know I don’t look like John but I don’t think I’m that bad to stare at.” 

A pressure is settled on your ribs, and with a sharp inhalation, you pull back as bile fills your mouth. 

“Easy,” Kyle whispers, pushing the rag he holds deeper into a long cut over your side that weeps crimson. You blink down at it – you had never even noticed. Had you gotten that in the fall? 

“Tell me about how you met John.” Your eyebrows furrow, body beginning to slump forward as your hands shake violently in your lap; the clothes over your skin sticking to you uncomfortably. 

“Library,” You slur, voice gravely. Oh, that hurt.

“A library?” Gaz presses his hand tighter, smirking up at you, “Well, can’t say I’m too surprised. I’ve seen the man go through five books in a single Op. over in Egypt. Never understood that, to be honest. I can’t focus on one for more than an hour.”

Weak amusement filters over your expression.

“Garrick,” Ghost’s voice sharply enters the room, his presence making itself known as it lightly jogs into the room, “Mark’s near the kitchen window; coming around clockwise.”

“Shit,” Gaz hisses, about to stand up before Ghost stops him.

“I’ve got the curtains, keep pressure and make sure she doesn’t pass out.”

“Affirm.” 

Ghost rushes across the room, grabbing the moth-eaten fabric that was swinging uselessly over the living room and snapping it shut. His hands hold his Grau 5.56 Assault Rifle firmly as he angles his body on the wall next to the window. 

Watching his eyes flicker, his gaze once more finds yours. Blinking, both of your orbs stay locked for a minute or two until he looks away, going back to guarding the window. His feet move, legs angling themselves onto a ready stance.

Clenching your eyes shut, your lips pull down – pins and needles making your skin itch. 

A shadow moves from outside, leaving a melting outline that slithers past like a serpent. 

“Where the fuck are they,” Gaz snarls under his breath. Adrenaline was making the man’s hands vibrate over your side, and your eyes were becoming heavier. The hypnotizing sound of the rain puts you into a trance.

Your body slips forward. 

“No!” The man ahead of you harshly whispers – grabbing the limp form of your frame and rearranging you until you were on your side, body lying on the couch. His hands quickly return to your still-bleeding wound, setting his shoulders so he can bear more weight down on you. 

Your lips release a small exhale of air that wheezes from you and the squelching of a blood-soaked rag makes your eyelids flutter and skin wrinkle. 

“Gaz get the woman’s bloody eyes open.”

“I’m trying! Come on, Love…please–!” 

Gunshots ring out from outside, yells growing out over the thunder and lighting – a static sound enters the living room. At this point, the only part of you working property was your ears; in the thin bits of reality you could make out voices that leave your ears twitching in familiarity. 

“--outside! We’re coming in…Cover us!”

“Copy!” Ghost yells, rushing away from the window to thunder his way to the front door. 

The echo of running feet from outside suddenly became closer and the sharp ring of “MacTavish – Go!” 

That voice was so familiar, but why couldn’t you place it? 

Multiple feet storm inside, thumping over the floorboards, one continuing down the hallway as Ghost and the other stay to shut the door and stand watch.

“Where the hell is she!?”

“Here!” Gaz calls and a groan exits you at the loud voice so close to your sensitive ears. A heavy body can be felt moving rather than heard as it rampages closer. A shadow moves behind your eyelids just as a strong bout of wind makes the house’s windows rattle. There’s a pause, and then a slow breath inhaled.

A deep voice, layered with grit and dipped in urgency.

“How bad is it, Sergeant?” Your body tenses and with a flickering eyelid, you force your consciousness to come back to you. Opening your eyes halfway, the blurriness only peels back enough for you to notice a looming figure broader and more built than Gaz – a wet bucket hat sitting on top of a beard-covered face. Concerned blue eyes bore into you as the man knees down. 

“John?” Your voice wavers, a strangled tormented type of imitation of normal speech. Gaz’s hand leaves your side and your boyfriend replaces it. Your entire abdomen had lost feeling. Was this a dream?

“Garrick, where’s the fucking Evac?” John hisses, wild eyes falling from one open wound to another. His body orients itself next to you, free hand coming to grip your cold cheek. You breathe out a sigh of relief, familiar scared fingers and calloused palms wiping away rain, blood, and tears.

John was in the state he always was when he was on missions and a teammate was struck down – he had to be. If he thought about you too hard, or the blood that stains his grip, he would put you in even more danger; lose his edge. He would panic.

“Ghost contacted them, Sir. They’re ten minutes out – police are fifteen.” 

“We need to move.” The conversation continues, but you space out every once and a while, at least until the hand on your cheek shakes your head. 

“Love, I’m going to move you,” Your eyes refuse to stay open as John calls your name getting increasingly louder, “...Shit...!” 

Gaz’s voice warbles from across the room, “The Mark’s still out there – you sure we should make a move? We don’t have eyes on him, Captain.”

“What else do you bloody suggest I do, then, Sergeant? Let my girl bleed out? Not on my fucken’ life. We’re making for the Humvee. Guns hot…I’m going to need you on my six.” 

Arms go to wrap around you, dragging you to a warm chest that you go to limply and without protest. 

“Stay with me,” John’s breath hits your cheeks and you feel his breath stutter, his panic growing as your body grows colder in his grip, “please, stay with me.” 

But the Captain was an experienced man – praying for a future event was worthless to him. He had to act for it. 

So the man tightens his hold, hiking you farther into his sheltering grip with a brief and shaky kiss on your forehead that leaves your nose wrinkling.

“Muppets,” John barks, looking up and stalking out of the living room, “we’re making a run for it. Gear up.” 

Your boyfriend doesn’t know if he’s carrying your dead body in his arms, but as Ghost opens the front door and rushes out with his weapon at the ready, John doesn’t stop to think. Soap takes up a stance near his side, sending concerned glances at your non-responsive form, and Gaz settles on taking the rear. 

The street is silent besides the rain, and the entire Task Force rushes out with snapping eyes and tight chests. It was a dead silence – one where the air is quivering with tension.

John looks once more down at your face, pulling to memory the panic he had felt when he found Mahdi Karim’s body in his foyer. He had entered his house, gun drawn, when he had noticed the front door was open; a specific type of agony he had never felt before constricting his throat. 

Of course, he had relationships before you, but never had he felt this strongly before – never felt this level of anger and hatred for someone who had caused harm. 

You were so vastly important to him that it made him sick to think of you dead before him. 

Grunting, John increases his pace over the ground, now sprinting in complete distress.

“I promised you we would watch that movie, Love,” He whispers, rainwater weighing down his hat, “Go for a walk down in Green Park so you could see the baby birds.” A wet laugh bursts from his chest and he plays off the tears in his eyes as he clenches his jaw. John doesn’t care about the rain, or your blood staining his vest, not even the water in his boots. All that matters is getting you back to the Humvee; getting you immediate medical attention and making sure that the son of a bitch that did this is–

A shot rings into the night and John lets out a strangled shout. Burning pain erupts from his right shoulder. He falls, but conscious of the precious cargo in his arms, the man twists his body to shield you as he connects with the ground; water flies around as he lands in a puddle. John’s breath is momentarily expelled from his lungs.

“Contact! Contact!” Gaz screams.

“Steaming bloody Jesus!” Soap yells out, moving into a circle of John and your’s bodies, “Captain’s been hit!”

“I’ve got him! Johnny, Gaz, flush ‘em out!” 

John groans, cursing under his breath and drawing your body closer to him. 

Keep her safe, He thinks as he blinks away black dots, get her back home. 

“Come on,” Ghost’s shielded visage appears above him, gripping him by the uninjured shoulder and forcing him up. More shots ring out over the night, but far off in the distance sirens start to breach the night, “Now, you want to explain to your bird when she’s awake why you’ll be off on leave for a bloody month, or am I going to have to do it?”

John clenches his jaw to stop the waves of pain. Ghost offers to take you from him, but he snarls, forcing himself to his feet as his blood splashes over his clothes.

“Fuck off, Lieutenant.”

—

The beeping was becoming too annoying to ignore, like a fly buzzing around your head. With a groan, your eyelids flutter and it takes a few minutes for you to open them fully. Squinting, the dim white lights meet you and a small breeze from an open window makes goosebumps ripple up your arms. 

You first notice the fuzziness around your body – strong pain meds making you loopy and floating. Twitching your fingers, the mattress under you shifts as you do; you test the mobility of your limbs with gentle movements, a rotation of your ankles, which are all heavily bandaged, and a rolling of your shoulders. All actions spark a numb shiver of caution. 

It would be unwise to move. 

Lifting your now re-set arm and tilting your head down, the tight bandages around your neck make you pause. 

John was there, Your eyes widen; body messing up the cover over your lower body. The beeping of medical machines suddenly increases as you strain yourself to sit up. Just as you do, a voice from across the room causes you to halt, veins freezing under your skin; your heart skips a beat before you recognize the voice a second later.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Gaz whispers, “I just got him to fall asleep, you know.” Blinking, your gaze goes to the window across the hospital room there the tall man leans near the glass. He smiles lightly, and bags take shape under his dark eyes, “I’m sure you know how stubborn he can be. Especially about you. I’ve never seen him so damn restless.” 

Your brow furrows, not trusting your voice to speak your confusion. Gaz points, and you follow his gaze to an uncomfortable-looking chair mere inches from your bed. 

It’s made of wood and a small blue cushion, a hard backing that you could see someone getting a stiff neck over. But you focus on the man sitting there instead of the dented frame – the slumped build in a hospital gown and an IV in the left hand that’s held down by two pieces of medical tape. John’s face and neck are slack, small eyes shut as his chest rumbles with soft snores that put your heart at ease like listening to a cat purr. His skin was illuminated by the gentle glow of a new morning, but under his eyes, there was the heavy burden of black and blue bags. 

Had no one gotten any sleep beside me? How long have I been out?

“He wouldn’t let the nurses force him out,” Gaz mutters, but you don’t move your wet gaze from John, “Nearly punched the bloody Doctor, too – Laswell had to sort it out, or else he would have been discharged. Decking a Civvy isn’t a good look for a Captain, now is it?” 

The man shakes his head, releasing a highly amused chuckle, and walks to your opposite bedside; grabbing a glass of water he taps your shoulder and causes you to turn forward. Unwilling to stop looking at the ethereal image of your sleeping boyfriend, you keep him in the sides of your vision as Gaz brings the glass to your lips. You’d be unable to hold it – the nearly inch-thick gauze over your hands and wrists was incredibly restrictive. 

You gulp down the liquid thankfully and tap on Kyle’s wrist when you’ve had enough. He pulls back and your wipe the droplets from your chin before you delicately smile at the man as thanks. 

Gaz nods, placing the glass back on the table.  

“...The staff had to just about rip him off of you. They said you had to go into surgery for your ribs and he ‘bout lost his head. But he had lost so much blood himself that it was easy enough for Soap to drag him away.” 

Lost blood? Your head snaps his way so hard you sway lightly. 

“Woah, careful, Love,” Gaz holds out a hand and hovers it above your arm, but looks sheepish and spares a silent glance to John when your boyfriend grumbles in his sleep, “Yeah,” He scratches the back of his neck, “Cap. took a bullet to the right shoulder.”

You turn and look at John more carefully, landing on the afflicted side and spying the extra bulkiness under his garment. 

What do you mean he took a bullet?! 

John shifts and your eyes widen in horror when he flinches in pain. His chin had hit his shoulder, forcing his eyes to flutter open in retaliation.

“Sergeant,” He grumbles, the huskiness of his voice making your cheeks heat, “I told you not to let me fall asleep.”

“Sorry, Sir,” Gaz smirks, taking a step back and sending you a wink, “Must have spaced out.”

“Hm.” John shifts, moving and running a hand over his face and down his beard, scratching at the wire hairs and stifling a yawn. Your heart is in your throat as he blinks his eyes. Blue so momentarily being glimpsed in between flickers of dark eyelashes. You briefly hear the sound of receding feet and the door closing.

The sting of tears makes itself known to you.

“Gaz?” Your boyfriend questions, face squinting, and body shaking in a stretch, “Where did you–” He sees you sitting up and stops, eyes locking onto your own with shock. 

Your head tilts and a slow smile creases your face, making tears dribble down your cheeks. John sucks in a quick breath, immediately trying to stand, but you hold out a hand – stopping him. 

Just calm down, You want to tell him, Everything’s alright. You’re hurt too.

“Doll,” He breathes, hand coming to grasp the side of your face and keeping you there with a relieved smile. It looks like a weight had been lifted from his body, “There you are…How are you feeling? If there’s any pain just say and I’ll go grab the nurse – she’ll fix you right up, yeah?” 

You want to tell him that you love him, but settle on kissing his palm instead, feeling the heat of his skin on your own and wanting nothing more than to disappear into his hold. You don’t want the nurse, you want a hug. 

John’s eyes weave over your bandaged temple, and he runs a thumb over it as if his touch could make it better. If you had your voice you would say it did. Silence reigns for a few long moments.

“I thought he killed you, Sweetheart,” He whispers, vulnerable as his eyebrows turn in, and your hand comes up to run through his locks; dragging him closer until his face is slotted into your neck. Your heart breaks as John’s beard presses into the gauze, “I heard the glass from the attic window break, just about scared me half to death, that did,” John had never admitted to being scared before – not even when he was captured by the Russians. The realization has your heart skipping beats, nose going to press into the side of his head, and stifle a sob in his hair. Your vision was blurry, but not from the fatigue, “I saw so much blood but I searched and searched. I couldn’t find you. Then when Gaz had you in the living room, pressing that bloody towel to your side…You were so lifeless that I didn’t…I didn’t know if–”

“John,” You force out through gritted teeth, “Stop.” 

He was shaking just as badly as you were. You were both quite the pair, it would seem. Your Captain pulls back and begins pressing kisses to any skin available to him – your forehead, cheeks, eyelids, and finally your lips. You revel in the feeling of his soft kiss, leaving you breathless as he pours himself completely into you. 

You don’t know if you had ever met anyone as perfect as John Price before, and you would be content if you never did again.

He pulls back when you both feel your hearts slow and you look at him, eyes sliding over his face until they land on his right shoulder with a glint of guilt. But he notices. He always does.

“None of that, now,” John whispers, placing his forehead on yours and swiping your tears away. His tall frame blocks everything beside him and he smells of gunpowder, pine needles, and smoke, “You are so incredibly brave, you know that? You’re absolutely bloody brilliant, you are…but everything’s been taken care of – just leave the heavy lifting to the others for a little while. The only thing you need to do is rest for me, Love, can you do that?”

Your brow teasingly raises even as your heart bursts at the praise.

“Please.” You smile and point to his chest, poking right into the middle and huffing.

Only if you do too. 

John grunts and a chuckle makes his body rattle in the way only his could, “Won’t find me fighting you on that.” He disconnects your foreheads. 

You haven’t been sleeping, You brush the bags under his eyes, watching his eyelashes flutter, Oh, John…when will you stop being so stubborn? Your body was fighting with you to drag itself back to the mattress – lay down, it seems to say, go to sleep and rest. 

John’s heavy presence is like a weighted blanket, and although you knew there was much to talk about – when you were able – he gave off waves of comforting heat that made your muscles loosen. You seemed to have the same effect on John because he lays all of his body against the bed frame breathing deeply. 

“Wanted to be awake when you came too,” He whispers, and you smile, nuzzling into his neck, “Didn’t want you to be scared.”

I never could be, You think, not when you’re here. 

Getting an idea, you pull back and shake John’s head from side to side with your hands to get him to watch you. The man grumbles, opening his eyes with mock annoyance.

“Yeah, Love?”

Your body moves, and John’s tired eyes widen, “What are you–!” 

Scooting to the far side of the bed, you only release one grunt of uncomfortableness when you have to place weight on your reset arm. Around your middle, you feel the telltale pull of stitches and stop sooner rather than later. You pat the empty side and send John a look. 

“Alright,” He groans, “Just stop moving around.” 

John’s large body barely fits in the bed, leading you to mold into his side and him to wrap his arm around your shoulders. Wanting to show your disapproval as John clenches his jaw in pain as he moves his right side to give you more room, you slap his chest. 

“What else do you want me to do, woman?” He looks down at you, raising a brow and laying his hand on your arm; running a thump up and down, “Let you fall off? This was your bloody idea.”

You roll your eyes at his grumble, moving your head to rest on his peck. Already your eyes were drooping once more, and John presses his lips into the top of your head. A sigh rises his chest.

“Sleep, Love.” He whispers, beard getting caught in your hair as a deep rumble enters his body, “You’ll never have to worry about that Muppet ever again. Made sure of it.” 

Smiling, you fall asleep to the sound of his heart and the feeling of his large hands creating patterns along your arm; not long after he follows, small puffs of breath from his snores moving your locks as the morning light enters the room. 

Gaz would return not fifteen minutes later with two trays of hospital food, Soap tailing after and talking to Ghost about what Laswell was going to do with Colby. The Manchester man only slides his eyes down to the Scot from over his lower-face covering and hums; scratching at his neck.

“Laswell? I’d be more cornered with what Price is going to do with the bloke. Bastard’s not going to be able to hide in his cell when the man gets discharged. Kate knows it too.” 

Gaz peaked his head into the room and paused spying two softly embraced individuals holding each other as if they would disappear when their eyes would open. Light pays off your forms, and John grumbles in his sleep before shifting even closer to you and letting out a sigh. He had never looked so peaceful. 

Gaz smirks before letting the door silently slip shut. He turns back to the pair with the trays raising as his shoulders shrug comedically.

“Sleeping.”

“What?” Soap raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, “Not ‘gonna wake ‘em up?”

“Do I look like I want to be eviscerated by a certain Captain, MacTavish? I’d quite like to keep my bloody neck, thank you.”

#john price #captain john price #john price x reader #John price x you #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #kate laswell #cod #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod x you #MW #MW2 #Call Of Duty MW2 #mw2 2022 #captain price #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

First Time With Someone Like You…

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, brief mentions of Billy x reader

Word count: roughly 10.1K

Eddie and his girlfriend finally put a label on it at last and now they’re feeling ready to take another new step together.

Warnings: NSFW (Minors do not interact), oral (f receiving), protected p in v sex, mentions of kinky shit but no kinky shit, reader’s first time having sex, inexperienced reader, terms of endearment (baby, pretty girl, sweetheart), AFTERCARE INCLUDED BECAUSE YES, fluffy sweet sex. 

Author’s note: I got a message the other day from @wdsara48 sending some very sweet thoughts about Bumpy Ride which is my other NSFW piece currently published and asking if I had ever written Eddie with an inexperienced reader and yes I have! This is that piece! It's again part of the same longer work that most of my Eddie stuff is from! Anyway it's on the longer side and I hope you all enjoy!

The Hideout was never a big spot, never drew a big crowd, but recently Corroded Coffin had managed to get a bigger gig - a going away party for a good friend of Gareth’s. The group had all banded together in order to make sure their setlist was flawless, down to a t, and needless to say, it had paid off. 

Corroded Coffin had just finished their rendition of “Jessie’s Girl”, which had left the crowd more than satisfied and their pockets heavier than usual as they began packing up their belongings. Music blared over the speakers, although it was nothing compared to them live. Eddie was also a little stoked on the premise that his girlfriend was here - something that always made him excited. Up until this point, they had never said the words to each other and had never put an official title on it but now…tonight they were ready to introduce her to the band as the girlfriend. People were still laughing and talking, but Y/N and her friend Jude who she had come with weren’t quite ready for the party to be over.

 “Hey Y/Nnnnnn”, Jude sang as they ran up and poked their friend. “Jonathan’s going to drive Nancy, Robin, and I home. Do you want to come?” 

“Oh,” Y/N said as she looked between her friend and the boy she was now thrilled to call her boyfriend, before shaking her head, “Thank you but…I think I have other plans. I appreciate it though! Have fun! And be safe!” She tacked on to the end despite herself. Jude engulfed her in one last hug. 

“You little freak “ they whispered, before heading out the door with the rest of their friends. Eddie was closing his guitar case and walked over to the bar to collect a few last donations people had left for the band. Once he gathered his money, he smiled and jogged to Y/N.

“Hey you”, he looked down at her. 

“Hey there yourself,” she laughed as she took one of his hands into hers, “You put on a remarkable show Munson. Really.” He blushed.

“What can I say?,” He took a pause before asking, “Seriously, what can I even say to you right now? I’m getting so distracted.”

“Maybe brief introductions to your bandmates who I don’t know and then…” Y/N had to take a little breath to gain the courage to ask, “We go back to yours?” Eddie looked into her eyes with disbelief. He grabbed her hand and started fiddling with her fingers out of nerves.

“For sure, yeah. They’ve been dying to meet you”, he said absent-mindedly, as he pulled her over to the boys sitting on the stage. “Hey fellas, there’s someone I want for you to meet”, Eddie beamed. Y/N stood at his side, his hand still in hers as she gained the attention of his bandmates. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.” God did it feel good to say it at last. The band stood in stillness. 

This stillness lasted for eternity. 

Gareth and Jeff looked at each other, trying too hard to hide their smile. Finally, Harrison broke the silence.

“Wow…” he cleared his throat. “ That’s… excuse me….that’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet this girl that Eddie hasn’t been able to shut up about, since the beginning of summer,” Jeff reached out to shake her hand. Y/N let go of Eddie’s hand to return it only for Eddie to take the free hand on the other side of her with a little squeeze.

“It’s equally as nice to meet his wonderful bandmates at last,” Y/N said, returning the hand squeeze with one of her own. 

“Honestly we thought he was making you up,” leaned Harrison, who leaned on the mic stand in order to properly shake his head. 

“Oh really?” Y/N laughed as she looked at Eddie, “He made me sound too good to be true?” 

“You would not believe it. He said you were hotter than Phobe Caits,” Jeff laughed. “Which you actually are,” Eddie turned to face Jeff with a look on his face that spelled out danger, “Respectfully,” Jeff modified with his hands up in the air.

“No one is actually hotter than Phobe Caits,” Y/N said with a smile, “But I appreciate the compliment. Well, I don’t mean to keep you all from cleaning up, let me know if I can help but if not, I’ll just wait until you’re done.” 

“Hey, no worries at all. Just enjoy the music, we’d be happy to give you a ride home,” Harrison said. 

“Considering that I am the one that drove you gentlemen here, I’ll be the one to offer,” Eddie said with a hint of agitation in his voice. He faced Y/N and winked. “The ride offer is also extended to you. We won’t be very long. Right men?”

“Right,” they barked. Y/N decided to let them work and headed to take a seat at the bar until they were done packing up, enjoying the people still partying around her. It wasn’t very long at all before Eddie slid up next to her.

“Hey,” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Just so you know I didn’t do anything tonight. Like, I’m sober. In case you wanted a ride home. Scout’s honor,” he smiled and put up his hand. “And I am totally down for if you want to come over, but if you….” he faded.

“I really would like to if you want,” Y/N said softly, “I am sober too. I had half a drink and called it quits and…I want that but only if you do.” 

“Legendary,” he chuckled. He took her hand. “By the way, my van smells like armpits because of those little shits. Just so we’re clear,” he led her to the door of the bar. He took her hand and led her out of the bar and towards his van parked at the very edge of the parking lot.

“And the smell of weed?” Y/N teased completely as she enjoyed their hands swinging back and forth together. 

“Yeah…that’s me,” he chuckled as they got closer to the car. “You don’t mind it too much?”

“It’s ok, I’ll just have to sit closer to you since I like the smell of your cologne,” she smiled, making his heartbeat pick up.

“Damn,” he opened the car door for her, and offered his help, “you’re making me feel like a princess tonight.” 

“Simply trying to return the favor since you always make me feel that way,” she beamed at him as she got in the car before the rest of the band brought their stuff out and began loading it in. He shut the door gently behind her and continued to hold her hand through the window. He kissed her hand gingerly and then simply leaned against the rearview mirror, gazing at her. He completely ignored his band’s cries for help and complained. He just sat and looked at her. 

“Nice view?” She asked without looking at him. He said nothing. He lost his smile. His face turned into something else. Before Y/N knew it, he was kissing her more passionately and carefully than she had ever been kissed. 

“EDDDDIIIIIEEEEE” the band cried together. He parted from her regretfully and took one last look in her eyes before he continued onto the driver's side. Y/N was absolutely breathless as she processed it with all her fingertips coming up to trace over her lips. Eddie was opening the driver’s side door before she knew it and she had long forgotten his bandmates were present.

“Do me a favor baby and buckle up,” he said as he reached over and buckled Y/N’s seatbelt for her before not buckling his own, “it’s gonna be a bit of a rough ride.” 

“Hey Eddie, are there seat belts back here?” asked Harrison.

“Nope.” Eddie turned on the ignition and pulled out of the space, “Clench your butt cheeks to the seats and shut the hell up!”

Eddie drove as recklessly as possible, having absolutely no regard for the safety of his fellow bandmates… only becoming careful when he remembered Y/N was in the car. 

“Get out” he would say as he pulled up to their house. 

“I had fun Eddie,” they would say sheepishly.

“Out!”

Finally, when the last member had been dropped off, Y/N could watch the tension leave Eddie’s shoulders. 

“They’re good friends, huh?” She asked. 

“They are,” Eddie pulled his van into reverse and sped off the road towards his castle, “They’re young and can be idiots though.”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence until Eddie deemed that as usual, he had something more he needed to say.

“I am beyond proud to be your boyfriend,” He started making Y/N smile, “But I think, for your sake, we should come up with some kind of protocol. I’m not sure if you’d want anyone else to know that we were dating. It could ruin your reputation.” Y/N looked over at him as he drove, processing for a minute. 

“Respectfully, Eddie, I don’t care about my reputation. But…I do understand if you care about yours,” she said honestly, “I mean having me as your girlfriend kinda ruins the scary guy who hates everyone thing you’ve got going.” 

Eddie shook his head and gripped her thigh tighter. “Believe me, if I had things my way I wouldn’t be thought of as scary. People just fear what they can’t understand. And for everyone else in this dumb hick town, I am an enigma.” He pulled into a lot that had multiple trailers and drove slowly. He pulled up to his Uncle’s trailer and turned off his headlights. “I’m saying that it could be potentially dangerous for you. You could be the target of a lot of hate and gossip. Just promise me you will think about this….” Y/N felt her heart break for him just a tiny bit as she looked at him. Taking his face into her hands and turning her to look at him she nodded.

“I will. I promise,” she placed a soft kiss on his cheek which made him melt, “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“I got you,” He murmured softly, “Always.” Y/N beamed as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips gently before pulling away. He let out a light giggle before he practically leapt out of the car and scurried to open her door for her. “M'lady," he offered her his hand. She giggled as she took it and allowed him to help her out of the car, shutting the door behind her. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

“It’s actually Sir Eddie, to be precise, Lady L/N '', he led her to the front door, puffing his chest out to be the most chivalrous version of himself that he could be. 

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a laugh as she headed up the steps to stand beside him. Hearing this gave Eddie superhuman strength and he bounded up the stairs to open the door for him. Good to note, Y/N thought to herself.

“Just so you know, my Uncle works nights and I think he’s staying with his girlfriend tonight,” Eddie opened the door and bowed to let her in first. 

“That’s probably for the best,” Y/N said as she stepped inside. She admired the place, the hats that lined the walls, the countertop filled with stuff, and how warm it felt instantly, the warm lighting making her feel at ease. “I mean… never mind,” she cut herself off and stepped fully inside, pushing nerves and fear of saying the wrong thing aside.

“Sorry about the mess,” Eddie said as he moved some things here and there as Y/N continued to take it all in. She thought for a split second he maybe hadn’t heard her remark from before but as he turned to her she knew he had, “And don’t make me laugh. You know what we’re about to do”, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the left of the trailer into the far right room. “This is me”, he opened the door for her, revealing his bedroom. 

“Wow,” Y/N said, admiring how eclectic it was. The walls were crammed with stuff and despite things being fairly clean, she could tell the place was usually messy. 

Maybe I wasn’t the only one hoping for this, Y/N thought as she looked around, admiring the photos and band posters as she stepped all the way into Eddie’s room, missing that he closed the door behind and leaned against it as he watched her. Without thinking much about it she pointed to the blank spot on the wall which was remarkably out of place with the rest of the decor. 

“For your guitar?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah!” He nodded as he took a step off the wall, his eyes trained on Y/N, “You should meet her sometime. Her name’s Roxie and she has the clarity of an angel. But she’s out in the van and…. I don’t feel like she’s my main focus right now”, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in so that her back was pressed against his chest drawing a gasp from her as he moved her hair to expose her neck to him, “No offense Roxie,” he whispered before placing a kiss on Y/N’s neck softly and delicately to test the waters.

“Very respectful of you to leave her in the van when having another woman over,” Y/N teased as she leaned into him, head tilting back to rest on his chest, giving him permission to continue. He smirked and complied leaving another, and another. 

“She’s a strong and independent woman. I guess I have a type”, he said as his hands slid down her waist, giving a little squeeze to her hips. “I’d never leave you in a car though, to be clear,” Y/N laughed out loud as she slipped off her jacket. 

“I appreciate it,” She said as she turned to face him. “Eddie, I just want to say if you have any hesitati-”. He picked her up between her legs and threw her on the bed. She would have bounced but before she could Eddie wrapped his arms around her thighs, effectively pinning her hips down as he looked at her from between her legs, kneeling on the ground still. He looked at her for a moment before confessing with a sigh, “I’m hesitating like crazy.”

“Because…?” Y/N prompted as she sat up just a bit to be closer to him. He grabbed her wrists and threw them back on the mattress, positioning himself comfortably on top. He paused and looked at her for a moment before his expression shifted and he let out a sigh as he sat up to kneeling, leaning back on his hands. 

“I…I’m gonna be honest here and vulnerable and stuff,” he said, trying to keep his demeanor casual but Y/N could tell he was being serious, “But I’ve never been with someone I actually care for in the way I care about you. Most people want to hook up with me - get the town freak’s dick, learn a bit about themselves so they can get off, and leave - and that’s fine but…I guess I’m worried that since I’ve never been with anyone I cared about beyond wanting to learn…well stuff…I won’t compare to Hargrove,” he said with a little look down before shaking his head, “Which is stupid I know-”

“I wouldn’t know what Billy is like,” Y/N cut him off as she sat up. Eddie looked at her and raised a brow. 

“But you…” Eddie’s eyes went wide as he looked at her, “You and Billy never did it?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, not meeting his eyes, “We did not…we just…made out a couple of times…” His expression changed, it lightened. 

“Oh,” he slowly rubbed the sides of her thighs back and forth. “So… and correct me if I’m wrong. This would be your first?”

“Yes,” She said, looking at him because if she couldn’t admit to him she wanted him to be her first she didn’t deserve to have him as such, “It would be.” He leapt up with a drive she knew only from days when he was really pumped for Hellfire. 

“Well, then this is ALL WRONG”, he paced back and forth looking for something. “Hmmm.” He stopped when he saw his stereo. “Well, we obviously need music,” he smirked and bolted to his cassette shelf, diving in and throwing random tapes on the wall. 

“No! Seriously?” Y/N asked as she sat up, laughing as she took the time to examine his room a bit more to distract herself from the nerves, “Eddie I don’t think that’s…” Her eyes caught on a metal shiny piece hanging from the wall near where he was searching for music and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Why did he have those? Just then “I’m On Fire”, by Bruce Springsteen. The soft guitar played through the speakers as Eddie tried to diffuse the tension. 

“Oh,” he ran to his desk and ripped out a piece of notebook paper. He went to work doing something on it, but Y/N was all too distracted by the handcuffs on the wall. He finally turned around and offered her an origami rose made out of said notebook paper. “Next time, I’ll get you a bunch. Sorry, I only had one,” he sat on the bed next to her and brushed her hair aside, drinking her presence. “Whatcha looking at?”. 

“Nothing,” she said far too quickly as she turned back to him, beaming at the rose and at him. “That’s impressive,” She said, trying to clear her mind and focus on how sweet he was being, despite her stomach being in knots. 

“Well, middle school Munson didn’t have the musical talent or sexual prowess that he does now. So…. I… spent all my time making origami.” Y/N laughed out loud, a smile coming to her face.

“That’s sweet,” She admitted, “Do you do this for all the girls?” She said in an attempt at an old cheesy line, batting her eyes in a mock manner. 

“The other girls haven’t seen my bedroom”, he replied matter-of-factly. Y/N sat in silence, her eyes wide as she took in that information.

“Oh,” was all she managed, her mind drifting back to the handcuffs as she went red. Is that because he has his personal stuff here? Maybe it’s because he didn’t want them to know him…does he want me to know him? Her mind raced and he could tell by the hazy look on her face. 

“You like that?” He got up and started walking towards the wall. He looked back at her with a knowing smile. 

“Yes,” she said, completely honest, “Not to sound like a cliche but…it makes me feel…special-god, that’s such a shit thing to say-”

“Oh no, not at all,” he smirked getting closer to the wall, “I like them too. I only break them out for special occasions.” 

“Oh!” Y/N said quickly as she looked at him, “No, I didn’t mean…I meant that no one else has been here…I didn’t…” 

“Hm?'' he scrunched his face as he turned to look at her again, his hands coming to rest on his heart in mock pain. “I’m surprised at you, L/N. Do you not like it?” He pointed to the Metallica poster right next to the handcuffs. “I thought you loved Metallica- Oh did you think I was talking about…” he trailed off, trying to feign, trying to read her thoughts on the handcuffs matter. But genuinely, he was curious despite the fact he was teasing her to put her at ease. 

He hadn’t considered that they would use those ever, especially not for her first time. He didn’t mind if Y/N was vanilla which would have been his guess looking at her. Sure, she could and did talk back from time to time, something he adored, but he wouldn’t have pinged her as being kinky. But Y/N was unlike anyone he’s ever met. And if she wanted it, he’d be happy to oblige. 

“Oh god,” She said as she buried her head in her hands and laughed, “I’m so sorry, I can’t…I just…” She couldn’t even complete the thought she was laughing so hard. This broke him from his thoughts and completely focused fully back on her at this moment.

“You laughin' at me L/N?” He took this as a challenge. He puffed out his chest. This only made her giggle more as she looked up at him with a beaming smile. 

“I like Metallica,” she started as she continued to smile at him, “I also like the fact that I am the first person you’ve had here, for this…and I do like the handcuffs but not for tonight,” she said as she continued to smile at him but it shifted to a smirk at the end, “You’ve gotta ease me into it.” Eddie’s eyes went wide for a split second. Holy shit. She not only rose to the bait, she baited me back. This girl is going to be the end of me. She batted her eyes up at him and he realized in this moment of shock she had managed to get the upper hand, something he couldn’t allow. 

“Hey now”, he bent down on his knees, looking up at her. “Don’t get cocky”, he flipped her over on her back and pinned her hands down on the mattress. “That’s my job”, he paused for laughter. “Get it? Cocky?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed as she looked up at him, “I get it alright. You’re so…I don’t even have words to describe you!” 

“Ah jeez you can’t think of any?” his eyes ran over her body. “Do I make you that nervous?”

“You don’t make me nervous,” she said honestly, “You make me happy and feel important and…you just make me feel like me. Sex…” She hesitated before shaking her head, “Sex makes me nervous!”. His demeanor faltered slightly. 

“Understood”, he said with the most seriousness he could portray, despite the fact that she had just made his heart explode. “ And we don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t want to-”

“No!” she said quickly, “it’s not that! It’s just…look I’ve made out with people but this is totally different from that,” Y/N said quickly, “Because I didn’t love any of them so this is different because…” She trailed off as she realized what she had admitted to. Sure the thought had been in her mind for a bit but she had never dared to say it out loud. Eddie almost missed that last part because he was concentrating so deeply but he heard it. He wanted to ask her if he had heard her correctly. That was his intention. To ask her and then if he heard her correctly. That was the plan.

But he knew he had heard her correctly. He knew it. And instead of replying, the words were moving too fast in his brain and it was all he could do to pull her into him and press his lips to hers. 

Y/N gasped as he did it, her heart racing before she melted into him, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as he laid her back down. It was only an instant before he was all over her, his lips touched every inch of her he could. He quickly slotted his knee in between her legs and pressed into her, the whine that fell from her mouth like heaven, drawing a sigh of his own. He moved away from her mouth as he pressed kisses down her jaw and to her neck. He was deliberate in his actions, strategically pressing kisses until he felt her grip on his hair tighten, earning a smirk from him. He began to abuse the spot, sucking and gently nipping at her skin as she muffled her sounds with one of her hands.

“Come on,” he coaxed as he pulled away ever so slightly to revel at the sight of her lust-blown eyes as she laid under him, “let me hear it all, baby. Just us, and you sound so pretty.” It was at that moment that he pressed his knee into her even more, drawing a whine from her that she didn’t hide as she gripped his black button-up which was still half done and revealed a couple of his tattoos. 

“Eddie,” she said softly as she looked up at him. 

“Yes, baby?” He prompted with a teasing grin as he leaned down to press more kisses to her neck, trailing lower to her collarbones. 

“Remember when you said it was my next adventure to find out how many tattoos you had?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady as he continued on his course. He hummed in reply, and though he couldn’t see it, a smirk came to her face.

“How can you expect me to do that when you’re still dressed?” The chuckle that fell from his lips had her thighs pressing together, his knee still embarrassingly sandwiched between them so she knew he could feel her move. 

“Trying so hard to get me out of my clothes,” he said in a mock attempt to shame her as he pulled back a bit, “Too bad for you I’m a gentleman so…” He went to his knees once more and looked at her with pupils blown wide, “Ladies first.” Y/N’s smirk only grew as she got up from where she was laying down on the bed and first took off her fishnet tights, setting them aside with her jacket. She reached for the hem of her dress before turning her attention back to him. 

“Sure you don’t want to undress me?” The grin on his face would put the Cheshire cat to shame as he leaned back on his hands. 

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he leaned back even further, truly getting comfy, “I want to watch you strip for me.” Y/N slowly pulled up her dress without any more fanfare, his request being more than enough to do her in. She set aside her dress and was suddenly struck with nerves once more as she stood in the underwear she had carefully chosen. She went to meet Eddie’s eyes to get any sense of how he was feeling about it all and felt her breath hitch in her throat at the way he was looking at her.

She had people have crushes on her along the way. She’d made out with a few different people, enough to count on a single hand, and she had had sex before but no one, no one on earth had ever looked at her like Eddie was looking at her now. 

He pushed off of the bed and stood up, taking slow steps toward her as his eyes raked over every single inch of her bit by bit. When he came to stop in front of her, he gently took her arms which had come up on instinct to cover herself, and lowered them at her sides, allowing him a full view. She looked at him as he stared at her body, his one hand coming up to cup her bra-covered breast.

The piece she had chosen was mostly sheer with a few red lace flowers covering here and there and without an ounce of padding, something all too obvious as he ran his thumb over her nipple before giving her breast a soft squeeze. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he felt how soft she was underneath his hand. His eyes then met hers, his free hand coming up to rest on her cheek, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Any semblance of the cocky arrogant character he had put on at his show and even the teasing tone she so commonly heard from him had left his voice. As she looked up into his eyes, all she could see was sheer adoration, idolatry even. 

“You’ve seen me in my underwear before,” She said with a soft giggle as she thought back to the night last summer their little group of friends had all stripped down to their underwear for a midnight Lover’s Lake swim. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her. 

“But this is different,” his voice was deep and so full of emotions she couldn’t name as he spoke, “You’re letting me see you, touch you…you’re letting me take you as mine and allowing me to become yours. This is…you, are everything.” Y/N looked at him with that same look of adoration he had been giving her written across her face. Their eyes met again before he pressed his lips to hers once more, softly this time, so gentle it was like he thought she was at risk of breaking. She kissed him firmer, more so to assure them both that they were here, really here, together than anything else. He kissed back with equally as much passion, his hand on her breast squeezing even tighter to match drawing a gasp from her. 

Before she knew it, his hands had come to her hips and he had picked her up, her only option was to wrap her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He let out a hum into their kiss as she did, his hands coming to hold her ass and giving it a squeeze. 

She gasped not only at the action but at the feeling of his cool rings against her heated body. He made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, resulting in Y/N sitting in his lap as he continued to kiss her. When he pulled away it was only so he could trail one of his hands up to her neck, kissing down the other side as he used his hand to manipulate her body exactly how he wanted it, listening to every little sound she made as an indication of what she wanted. He wanted to learn every single intricacy of her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to know her heart as well as he knew his own. He kissed her neck all over until he found a spot that made her breath hitch. He smiled as he did, beginning to gently nip at the skin there. When her fingers tangled into his hair and she let out a whimper that made him throb in his pants, he all but lost it. 

“You like it when I leave marks on you, pretty girl?” He asked between kisses, his hand that was on her neck coming to grasp her breast and gently pinch her nipple, drawing a moan from her. “Need words, baby.” 

“Yes,” She moaned out, fingers pulling in his hair as her head fell back when he went right back to it at her confirmation. “Feels amazing.” Eddie’s mind wandered momentarily and he pulled away causing her to whimper in complaint. He looked at her as she sat in his lap and a question came to his mind. 

“Y/N, has anyone ever eaten you out?” 

“No,” she confessed breathlessly as she looked at his swollen lips, ones she was sure matched her own. “I um…people have offered but I didn’t feel comfortable returning so I didn’t want them to so…but I’m ready now, with you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he praised as he gently brought his lips to hers before pulling away and smiling at her, “All I want in the world right now is to eat you out without wanting anything back. I just want to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. We’ll have plenty of time to fully explore each other later if you ever want to. And if you don’t that’s ok, alright?” She looked at him and he watched as the tension visibly left her body as she leaned in to gently press her lips to his. As they kissed, her hands came down to the buttons on his shirt and she began to undo them. He let out a hum of approval as she did, pressing kisses to her neck and breasts as she continued until his shirt was fully unbuttoned. He untucked it from his pants when it was and opened it so she could better see him once he had. Y/N pulled away and her eyes ran up and down his body, reveling in the sight. She brought her hands up to where the shirt was on his shoulders and looked to him for permission to push it off his shoulders. He nodded, giving her all the confirmation she needed to expose his torso to her. 

She took this moment to look at the tattoos on his left shoulder, ones she hadn’t been paying that much attention to the first time she had seen him shirtless out of a need to be polite and not stare. But now, she really took them in. There were two of them on the left side of his chest, a spider and a demon. The spider was a bit higher up but they rested very close. She took a moment to trace her fingers over them as he watched her before she leaned in, pressing soft opened mouth kisses to them. Eddie’s hands both flew to her his as she felt him grind up into her, hard as a rock as she worshiped his body. She moved ever so slightly, pushing him to lay down on the bed so she could be on top, trailing kisses down his torso and to the little trail of hair that led down below- 

A little whimper of pain came from Y/N as Eddie’s hands tangled in her hair and pulled her up to straddle him. 

“Shit,” he swore as he moved his hands from her hair and gently cupped her face in his hands searching for any indication, “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry-”

“It’s ok,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his lips to stop his worries. She pulled away to find that the concern had partially eased and she felt a little bit bolder, leaning in to whisper to him, “Besides, I like having my hair pulled.” 

“Jesus,” He swore as she pulled back and smirked down at him beneath her, “You, Y/N L/N, are going to be the death of me.” Y/N chuckled and leaned down to continue as Eddie’s hands wound in her hair again, pulling much more deliberately this time. “Baby, this is about you, not me,” He scolded as he sat up, taking his hands out of her hair and running them down her body, “And I’m trying so hard to be gentle so make it easy for me pretty girl. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He knew it was a risk that Y/N might be against being spoken to in such a way but he watched as her eyes glazed over and her jaw dropped just a bit as she nodded. 

“Then do me a favor, pretty girl, and lay down for me.” She complied in a heartbeat, moving out of his lap and laying down on the bed. He smiled at her as he took a moment to admire her before kneeling beside the bed and adjusting her so she was exactly where he wanted her. 

“Spread your legs for me.” She did, a hint of embarrassment and anxiety coming up as she knew he may not like what he saw. She knew people who condemned girls for having bigger thighs and stretch marks and things like that and for a brief second, she let herself consciousness kick in, something Eddie seemed to be remarkably aware of. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said, drawing her gaze to look down on him, knelt between her legs, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want but I’m telling you now, you are the most stunning person I’ve ever laid hands or eyes on. Genuinely. You have nothing to be nervous about.” She melted as she could see the honesty in his eyes and again he watched her relax. He brought his hands up and slowly parted her thighs, loving the goosebumps that appeared on her skin as his rings came into contact with her body. He had to fight the moan that threatened to slip from his lips at the sight of the wet patch on her underwear with every fiber of his being. He pressed kisses all over her thighs, slowly working his way closer to her still-covered core, his hands finding their place on her hips as he held her on the bed. When he did finally get to her core, he pressed a soft kiss to her heat through her underwear, drawing a gasp from Y/N. 

“Do you want me to take them off?” He asked gently as his thumb ran circles on her lips. 

“Please,” she said, a smile coming to his face as she angled her hips in such a way that he could pull them off. He leaned up and ever so gently removed her underwear, setting them aside. 

“Holy shit,” He whispered as he looked at her. He knew he needed to be slow, to ease her into it, so he tried his best, repeating the kissing of her thighs, this time without her underwear there until finally he got to her core. He pressed a soft kiss to her clit and felt her hips move on instinct, keeping them pressed to the bed. He continued, slowly getting bolder until he slipped his tongue inside of her. 

Soft whimpers and moans fell from her consistently now as she relaxed into the pleasure he was so skillfully giving her. She felt so very at peace and was truly unable to do anything else but think about him between her legs. 

“Eddie-” She moaned out, the man letting out a moan of his own at the way she moaned his name. 

“Yes, baby?” he asked, briefly coming up for air. 

“Can you…can you also…”

“Y/N say the word and it’s yours,” He said as he leaned back to be able to look at her, “Anything you want baby.”

“Can you use your fingers too?” She asked sheepishly. The grin that lit up Eddie’s face instantly melted any worries she had about being needy. He replied with actions not words, instantly slipping two of his fingers inside of her causing her to gasp. 

From their previous encounters - though simple and brief ones - he knew that usually two was her comfort zone but if he was going to actually fit inside of her he wanted to use at least three. The general theory was if he started with two instead of one then three wouldn’t be such a stretch. 

That theory seemed to be working as she whimpered and moaned from the stretch beneath him. 

“You’re doing- so good,” he praised between moans as he put his mouth right back to work, sucking on her clit like his life depended on it and right now, it felt like it did. As much as he wanted to solely focus on her pleasure, he couldn’t help the little grind of his hips against the carpet every time she moaned. It slowly became a consistent rocking until he feared he was going to cum completely untouched just from eating her out. While he’d love to do that another day, tonight they had a plan and if she had gotten herself all ready for it, he refused to spoil it by finishing too early. He had been so distracted by his name coming out in moans from lips that he hadn’t even registered it was probably because he had been fucking three fingers into her for a while. Her hands were tangled so tightly in his hair and he quickly put two and two together on what was coming, leaning it to suck on her clit more as he continued doing exactly what he was doing until Y/N suddenly gasped and moved away from him with a little, “stop.” Eddie’s hands let go immediately and went into the air as he looked at her breathing heavily. 

“I'm sorry-“

“No, no,” she shook her head at him, moving back closer as her chest heaved, “I was just…I knew I was going to…squirt and I didn’t want it to be while you were-“ 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said as he pressed her down against the bed and climbed on top of her. “You were going to squirt and you stopped me!” 

“Yes!” She nodded, “I…most guys wouldn’t want to be anywhere near that!” 

“First off, yes they would,” Eddie nodded, his fingers already back between Y/N’s legs slowly slipping inside of her again, “and secondly, we already know I am not ‘most guys’.” He went back to what he had been doing before and watched as Y/N relaxed under him at his words. He liked this even more because of how at peace she seemed so he kissed his way down her body and got right back to it. Instead of changing anything he was doing, he continued right on with what he had been doing, putting his whole heart into it and reveling in the fact that he was able to get her like this. It didn’t take long until she was crying his name again, her eyes squeezing tightly closed and her fingers tugging at this hair with a vice. 

“Let go, baby,” he commanded and she did. Her release gushed over his face and he licked her clean with a fearless new to him. He had been with others before but never anyone who got this reaction out of him. It was only when she let out a little whimper of pain he realized she was already feeling overstimulated and he couldn’t have that…not yet. 

“How are you, pretty girl?” He asked as he came to rest over her again. She nodded as she looked up at him, a smile on her face as she pulled him in for a kiss. It was gentle and sweet and he felt his heart melt at her sweetness despite what they were doing. 

“So good to me,” He murmured as she pulled away to kiss down his neck. Her hands quickly found his belt buckle and began to mess with it, a pathetic-sounding whine coming from her when she realized she couldn’t figure out how to undo it. He chuckled as he batted her hands away before pressing a kiss to each one. 

“I got you,” He smiled and she returned it as he undid the buckle. He quickly set it somewhere on the floor to be forgotten about as he sat back on his knees. Y/N quickly sat up and ran her hand down to where his hands were on his zipper. 

“Can I?” She asked, looking up at him with complete adoration. He couldn’t deny her anything and nor would he ever want to so he just nodded and sat back, allowing her to do exactly as she wished. She unzipped his jeans with one hand, using her other hand to trail down his body, following the little trail of hair downward. As she finished unzipping his jeans and looked to him to get up and take them off, something he complied with, slipping them off and setting them next to his belt. Now in just his black boxers, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of anxiety. What if he couldn’t please her? What if he couldn’t manage to learn what she liked? He stood with his back facing to her for clearly too long as she was out of bed. 

“Hey,” Her voice was soft as she gently turned him to face her, her one hand coming up to turn his face to look at her as her free hand held his hand, “We can stop here if you want or do something else-”

“No,” He shook his head, “I want this. Really. I want you.” Y/N smiled at him and gently pressed a kiss to his lips before it became less gentle. She managed to move both hands to Eddie’s chest and he walked back until his back hit the door with a little gasp at how easily she had taken over. She chuckled as she began to press kisses down his chest, her one hand coming down to palm him gently over his boxers which made him gasp again. 

“Is this ok?” She asked as she pulled away from his neck for only a moment, taking in the sight of how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back against the door, his eyes shut in pleasure. 

“Yes,” he replied, a breathy moan following. “You can…you can take it out if you want.” Y/N didn’t reply with words, smiling as she did exactly that. She took it in for a moment, her eyes going wide as for the first time ever she processed the idea of him being inside her. She ran her thumb over his tip gently causing another groan to come from him as his hands grasped her hips with a force. He was so hard and she was impressed that he hadn’t finished yet but god did she feel bad for him. She wanted to please him so bad so that’s exactly what she set out to do. She stroked him gently, seeing what he liked and what got the best reaction from him, reveling in each sound he made. As soon as she started to get the hang of things, one of his hands moved from her hips and took hold of her wrist. Her eyes shot up to meet his which were now open and looking at her. 

“Sorry,” he said gently, “You were doing great…it’s just, I’m pretty worked up so I didn’t want to finish yet.” Y/N smiled at him and nodded 

“I get it…but I mean…you made me-”

“It’s different,” he said as he picked her up again and carried her back to his bed, laying her down gently, “Takes me longer to get back to it.” His choice of phrasing made her giggle and his focus snapped to her, “You’re really laughing at me? Now?” 

“Yes,” she replied as she shook her head. He chuckle and pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling away. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” He said as he leaned over and opened up one of the drawers near his bed. He easily found a condom and held it up to her, his expression going a bit more serious. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” she said as she took it from him and opened it much to his surprise, “I’m ready.” He watched with a smile as she pulled it out and rolled it onto him, careful as always with delicate hands before setting the wrapper aside. He wrapped her thighs around his waist and looked down at her. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop at any point, ok?” He said as he lined himself up. She nodded, words escaping her at this moment. Right as he was about to press in, he heard her speak. 

“Just…be gentle. Please?” He felt his heart melt at her plea. Eddie leaned down and kissed her so softly and whispered, “I promise,” as he began to press in. Y/N automatically tensed at the feeling, it was brand new to her and he pulled away from their kiss to whisper to her. 

“I know,” he said as he fought for his own breath as he waited with just the tip in her, “Just breathe for me, baby.” She nodded through a whimper and took in a shaky inhale, causing him to press into her a bit more, “There you go,” he praised. “Just keep breathing.” While she relaxed for a moment, she instantly tensed again as he started to move.

He instantly noticed and without a word brought his hand up to hold hers, pressing them both into the mattress with a gentle squeeze. The tiny gesture and his soft smile allowed her to breathe easily. Eddie smiled as he noticed the calm this brought Y/N, pressing another kiss to her lips as he slowly pushed into her, stretching her out. As he did, her eyes squeezed shut and her toes curled as a moan was forced from her lips. Their one set of hands parted and Y/N’s nails instantly find their way to Eddie’s back. He let out a shaky moan as she left marks he knew he’d love to see in the mirror tomorrow.

“Fuck. I’m not even halfway in and you’re already...so tight...fucking...damn.” Y/N squirmed under him as he attempted to let her adjust, his words causing her to want more than he was giving her. 

“Don’t squirm,” Eddie commanded in a dark stern hiss, causing Y/N to instantly stop moving and clamp around him, forcing a moan as Eddie buried his head into her neck. Interesting, he thought storing the information away for later. He pulled his head out of her neck and spoke gently, “I’m going to push the rest of the way in now, ok?” Y/N nodded at him and he began to slip in once again. 

“Fuck,” He swore as he bottomed out in one fatal thrust causing them both to gasp, “God Y/N, you feel so good.” She managed to give a little nod to him which instantly caused him to check in with her.  

“How are you feeling?” He asked, making sure to remain very still to give her time to adjust to the sensation.  

“It hurts just a tiny tiny bit,” She confessed, thankful that all the rumors she had heard about it hurting a lot the first time were just that. “I just feel...full.” He gave a little chuckle and began to pepper kisses all over her cheeks before kissing her lips again. 

“Well that’s good,” He smiled as he pulled away, “All I want is to make you feel good, baby. You were still a bit tense. Just relax now, pretty girl,” He purred as he ran his hand down her body, “I’ve got you and everything is going to be ok.” Seeing the genuine and kind look in his eyes made Y/N instantly melt and any trace of tenseness was gone. A dull ache soon settled between her hips and she found herself rolling them in an attempt to ease the pressure causing Eddie to let out a little hiss.

“Is that my sign to move?” He asked with a smile. 

“Please,” Y/N begged softly. Eddie can feel his heart melt at her little plea. Instantly, all he wanted to do was hold her and never let go but he quickly brought himself back to the moment at hand. He pulled out just a little before thrusting into her making her let out a little gasp of a moan at the feeling - his own moans echoing along with hers. Eddie then dropped his weight to his forearms on either side of her head which brought them even closer together. He slid both of his hands into her hair lightly as he quickened his pace causing more moans coming from the pair as they began to fully lose themselves in it all. 

Even through the pleasure of it all, Y/N could tell how remarkably gentle Eddie was attempting to be and it made her heart flutter. Despite his best efforts, Eddie naturally became a bit rougher by second nature, but as things speed up and the knot in Y/N’s stomach came closer to bursting, she don’t mind a bit. Her free hand tangled into his hair and pulled causing him to groan into her neck, nipping at the skin there enough to leave even more marks. Call him possessive, he was and wanted her and everyone else in this stupid fucking town to know that she was his now. 

His need to mark her up though was only overcome by his want to etch every expression that crossed her face into his memory, so he pulled away to watch her beautiful face contrast beneath him.

“Fuck,” He swore as she let out a cry as he hit what he assumed was her G spot, angling to make sure he kept that up, “So fucking pretty for me.” Y/N could tell how close Eddie was getting by the absolutely stunning expressions painted on his face and the little praises that he uttered. His one hand slowly found its way to her clit and he softly attempted a couple of different things to see what elicited the best response. After a particular movement, he felt her tighten around him with a high whine and he knew he'd hit the jackpot. He repeated the movement while continuing to thrust into her, causing Y/N to cry out in response as she felt the coil come this close to snapping. 

“Eddie, I’m going to-”

“I know baby, I know,” He moaned as she clenched around him, “Cum for me.” His command was all it took for her to come completely undone beneath him. Her high and the feeling of her gripping him like a vice was all it took to have him finding right along with her, burying his face into her neck to muffle the long whine that came from him as he pressed as deep as he could get into her. He continued to thrust into her, allowing the pair to ride out their highs before finally stilling. They both lay there, breathing heavily a mess of tangled limbs and sweat, glowing with love. Finally, when he caught his breath, Eddie pulled away enough that he could see Y/N’s face. 

She was always beautiful but damn did she look good post-orgasm. He wanted to burn the sight of her into his brain forever.

“How are you feeling, pretty baby?” He asked as he ran his hands through her hair and cupped her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as she looked up at him, the love in her eyes and smile on her face all too innocent considering what they just did. 

“So good,” Y/N replied, her voice high and soft, music to Eddie’s ears, “How are you?”

“So good,” he echoed back to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I know I just like…popped your cherry and all,” he smiled as she giggled at the expression, “But I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“I’m real,” Y/N giggled as she flicked his forehead, making him beam, “That real enough for you?”

“Yeah that works,” he said as the pair fell into giggles making them both realize Eddie was still very much inside. “Oh shit,” He swore, “I’m gonna pull out now, is that ok?” 

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed as she gave his hand which was still held in hers a little squeeze. He gave her a small smile as he pulled out both of them letting out little moans as he did. He instantly wrapped her into his arms, holding her so close to him as she buried her head into his chest. She had never felt so safe in the arms of another person before, wanting nothing more than to hold him forever. 

“You did so well,” He praised her, “You know that?” He pressed kisses onto the top of her head as she stayed buried in his chest. 

“Thank you,” came her soft reply.

“You don’t have to thank me for praising you baby,” He chuckled.

“No, for…for everything,” she said as she pulled away ever so slightly so they could look at each other. Her eyes were so sleepy as she looked at him but the adoration was still written all over both of their faces. 

“Oh Y/N,” he said as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “You don’t need to thank me for that at all, baby. I loved it. I really loved it.” 

“Me too,” she replied as she beamed up at him, shifting ever so slightly and grimacing. It was that little grimace that reminded Eddie of what needed to come next. 

“Baby, I’m gonna get stuff to get you cleaned up, okay?” He asked as he gently pulled away. 

“M’kay,” she nodded as she looked at him, “But don’t be gone too long.”

“Getting all clingy on me already?” He teased as he slowly slipped out of bed and slipped off the condom, throwing it away before looking back at her, his eyes going wide.

“Fuck,” He swore as he took in the sight of her sprawled out in his bed completely fucked out. The very worst part of him had never wanted to take a damn Polaroid so bad but his top priority was getting her cleaned up and comfy. 

“Weren’t you going somewhere?” Y/N teased as she realized the effect she was having on him, rolling onto her side to give him a different view. He chuckled at her and gave her ass a little swat as he left the room.

“Little brat,” he reprimanded as slipped on his boxers, “And here I was trying to be chivalrous.” 

“Chivalry is dead Munson,” She said as he walked into the bathroom and wet a towel with warm water, ringing it out before heading back into the bedroom.

“Oh yeah?” He asked as he gently ran the towel over her body, cleaning her up, “Then what, pretty girl, would you call this?” 

“Common courtesy after that,” Y/N giggled as she looked up at him. He shook his head and gently moved the towel to clean between her legs, lifting her one leg as he did and pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. 

“I don’t know,” He teased as he set the towel aside when he was done, “I think I’m a pretty chivalrous guy.” 

“You are,” she said with all genuineness. 

“Anything else I can get for you?” He asked softly as he cupped her cheek again, “Water? Food?”

“Clothes?” Y/N asked as she looked down at her still very naked body. 

“Right,” Eddie said as he got up and walked over to his closet before thinking better of it and coming back over to her, “Wanna come pick out your pjs?” 

“I get to pick?” The joy in Y/N’s voice, as she sat up with a little wince, made Eddie’s heart melt. God I lo… his thoughts trailed off with a little pang in his heart as he made his way over to her. 

“Mhm,” He nodded as he picked her up bridal style in his arms making her smile, carrying her over to his closet, “Take your pick.” She looked through his little t-shirt collection before looking at the Metallica one he had been wearing the second time she had met him. 

“That one,” she said with a point. He smiled and nodded as he set her back down on the bed, grabbing it out for her and bringing it over to her. 

“A good choice,” He said as he watched her slip it over her head. 

“You wore it when Jude first brought me over to your house to pick up their drugs,” Y/N said as she searched for her underwear. “Can you bring me my underwear?” Eddie was frozen and didn’t even register her request. “Eddie?”

“You remember what I was wearing?” He asked softly as he looked at her. 

“Of course,” she nodded, “I thought you looked so handsome. You are so handsome-” Y/N couldn’t even get her thought out before he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the mattress again before he pulled away. 

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish chuckle as he wrapped her in his arms again, “I don’t know what came over me-”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with a smile as she pulled him fully into bed with her, “Just stay here with me?”

“Always,” he replied and he meant it with every fiber of his soul. The pair curled up together, limbs tangled, needing to be so close and neither one had ever slept so well in their lives as they did that night. 

So that's the fic! Yay! 10k words bby! As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are throughly appreciated!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #billy hargrove x y/n #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.1

[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4

i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.

ch 1, part 1

masterlist

By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.

He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.

Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.

Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”

“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.

“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.

“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”

“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.

“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”

“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.

He hated phone calls.

“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.

“I do, actually! Two.”

“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”

“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.

“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”

“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.

Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”

“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.

“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.

Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.

“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”

“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”

“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.

i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you <;3

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners

#and so it begins :D #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤 #unsteddie writing

[shitpostingperidot]

Ok you know what, the level of lesbianism of this part of Higher Further Faster (Palmer 2019) deserves its own post. Also, my post with the front cover is taking off but just look at the illustration of Maria on the back cover:

So. This is the emotional climax of the official Captain Marvel tie-in prequel novel:

That’s right, an angsty Danbeau love confession is the core of Carol Danvers’s backstory! Marvel published this!

And then, Carol gets in an anxiety spiral about not deserving Maria:

But not too long after, they reconcile, reiterating their love in a calmer moment:

Oh yeah, and they were roommates.

And this! This is the turning point of Carol’s character arc!

This is what defines her character for the final chapters: the knowledge that she’s found someone who makes her feel safe and loved and happy. Hello?!

And they don’t even no-homo it by calling themselves sisters until like 3 chapters later. This book makes me unhinged and I’m probably gonna write an essay about it but like. My god. This part is just another level.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #maria rambeau #danbeau #carolmaria #the marvels #higher further faster book #Liza Palmer #I think the essay is gonna be about homonationalism inspired by max teeth’s video about cadet kelly! #like the intersection between how incredibly gay this book is and its portrayal of the Air Force Academy

[kitspindles]

Nobody crucify me for this but I really don’t get why people are so mad about the “Percy is still 17 thing” because like… Rick’s explanation made sense enough to me? In a book series that’s spanned almost 20 years now and takes place in “our world” but not “real world time” (and where there’s schist like literal gods and monsters), people are fuming that the timeline doesn’t make sense with all the references to pop culture? Like, we already know the actual plot timeline within the books is a little screwy and not perfect, but why are we all big mad out here trying to fight the author in a Denny’s parking lot? Just because Percy isn’t canonically 18 yet? (Or 30 something). I don’t blame him for keeping Percy on the cusp of legal adulthood with the way some of you guys have been acting lately.

There’s no year ever given in the books to date the exact time of Percy’s adventures (or his birth year) because, like Rick said, his adventure is happening whenever you pick up the book and read it. Yes, there’s a wide range of pop culture references and jokes from over the years in the series but like… so what? He writes jokes that the current audiences and year will understand, that’s all. The series has been going for, what, 17 years now? And new fans of varying ages are always joining. The series and the jokes are ever evolving to reach these newer fans (many of whom are elementary and middle school aged, remember). As far as I know he never claimed for there to be a strictly linear timeline based in our real world time. He’s kept stuff vague on purpose to avoid giving exact years.

I think we all forget that The Lightning Thief started out as a bedtime story for Rick’s son, and that it took some time to even be accepted and published as a book. He didn’t initially set out to create a whole series with 15+ books spanning almost 20 years. I’m sure he didn’t know how large and expansive the series would become, and so that’s why there’s no set in stone timeline. Some authors give their series set years and stick with it throughout (Cassandra Clare, for example, has a whole intricate timeline going for her Shadowhunter books and sticks to it like glue), and some don’t. It’s just how it is. And most characters don’t tend to age outside their books… so yes, Percy is still 17 because, as of The Tower of Nero (which came out 2 years ago now, btw), his last canonical book appearance, he had yet to celebrate his 18th birthday or even officially start college. Just because we’re out here “celebrating” his birthday in the real world doesn’t mean he’s actually aging. It’s just a little goofy thing because he’s a popular character.

Are people just mad because this character we grew up with who kept aging in the books is now frozen at 17 (because his story is done) and we keep aging? We do need to remember that it’s a kids/young adult series, ergo, the characters are all still teens and pre-teens. Not yet adults.

Anyway I’ve just been thinking about that sorry

#please don’t rip my head off for this #I’m just really confused as to why some fans are frothing at the mouth about this #you can be mad about him not aging #free country and all that #but some people really went off the deep end over this #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo #rick riordan #rrverse #riordanverse #my stuff

[admiringlove]

exes.

synopsis. hq boys bringing up their exes during an argument.

genre. headcanons; angst to fluff.

characters. sakusa kiyoomi, kuroo tetsurō, oikawa tōru.

warnings. swearing, crying, etc.

author’s note. i contemplated publishing this, it’s been sitting in my drafts for a month :/

navigation. main menu, hq menu.

— SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

sakusa was a very private person. so, dating him came with the fact that he had boundaries. and his career wasn’t easy on you either, because he preferred to keep your relationship private. 

you weren’t the type of person to argue with that. in fact, even you preferred it this way. it would be way easier if the two of you were hidden away from the crazy fans and the invasive media. so you went along with it. you’ve known kiyoomi since college; you’ve adjusted to his mannerisms, his quirks, his ups and downs—everything, really. he couldn’t be more grateful to you. 

but everything came crippling down when you thought that it had been too long since the two of you started going out. that maybe, just maybe, you and kiyoomi could still lead a private life if he just announced to his fans that he has a significant other—just mentioning it, or posting a story on his instagram or any other social media. the first time you had brought it up, he’d dismissed it lightly. you’d tried again and again, but he just wouldn’t budge. 

just like today. but something was off about today as well. you hadn’t exactly had a good day at work, and neither had he. but you approached the argument either way, even though you probably shouldn’t have. 

���we’re happy, aren’t we?” he asks in a taunting way, “why do we need to tell the whole world we’re together if we’re content.”

“omi,” you take in a sharp breath, “we have been together for eight months. eight. that’s more than half a year.”

“yeah, so?” he raises an eyebrow, shrugging. you hate the way he’s so dismissive whenever the two of you come to a disagreement. while you’re usually level-headed, you tended to have a complete change in personality when you were arguing with someone. just like today. 

“do you- oh my god, kiyoomi!” you huff, “i’ve been nothing but patient for the past seven months, but this is a limit that you’re crossing. i thought that after so much time you would be comfortable but no-”

“this is getting annoying,” he sighs, “why are you acting out like this? everything was fine until last month.”

“because,” you grit your teeth, “i don’t wanna be some secret fling anymore. if you can’t take responsibility then i don’t want to be a part of whatever this is.”

“you do realize you’re behaving just like nami, right? that nagging pain in my ass who kept telling me to make our relationship official even though we dated for only two months. 

“w-what?”

“what else do you think?” he taunts. you can tell he’s lost his cool but the things he’s saying pricks at your heart. it hurts. it hurts so much that you don’t know how tears start flowing down from your eyes. sakusa isn’t looking at you, he’s pouring himself a glass of water in the open kitchen while you look at his back in disbelief from the living room. you wipe at your cheeks and when your boyfriend finally turns around is when he realizes how badly he’s screwed up.

“[y/n]-”

“save it, you jerk,” you spat, “go find another pain in the ass to sleep next to tonight, i’m going over to atsumu’s.”

sakusa’s eyes widen in fear, he keeps the half-empty glass on the counter haphazardly, following after you like a lost puppy until you slam the door on his face. he flinches, breathing unevenly and irrational thoughts racing in his brain. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against the white door, “that was a jerk move.”

he hears shuffling on the inside—it felt like you were sliding your back down on the door. he heard a few sniffs, and guilt ate away at him. he didn’t mean to hurt you at all, but the words came out on their own. maybe it had been the swarm of fans outside the gym today because of hinata’s birthday that ticked him off. or the fact that one of his tires punctured on the way back home from work. he doesn’t know why all of this happened, but he wants to go back to how the two of you would be in the bathroom applying lotions and creams to your faces before going to bed. you would make jokes saying that kiyoomi looks like a ghost and he would say that you don’t look too different either. sometimes he’d poke your waist before leaving the bathroom just to see how you’d react. sometimes he’d kiss the top of your head and immediately make a yucky expression because some of the lotion got onto his lips and made his whole mouth taste like bitter, soapy flowers. 

he doesn’t get a reply from you. but he still stands there, waiting for you to open the door or give him an earful. 

and after around fifteen minutes, you do come back out. but with a bag filled with some essentials, and a mask covering your face. sakusa’s eyes perk up, “where are you going?”

“move,” you seethe, “i’m going to atsumu’s for the night.”

“i can’t let you do that,” he says, shaking his head and trying to cup your cheeks. you take a step back from him, and his heart breaks. he tries to look into your eyes but you’re looking everywhere but at his own.

“well excuse me if i don’t wanna be a pain in someone’s ass,” you mock, “now, move.”

“i didn’t mean it,” he cries. his eyes are red, and he looks miserable. you roll your eyes, even though you want to believe him, “omi, i’ve known you for five years. you say shit you mean when you’re angry.”

“i wasn’t angry,” he reasons, “i’ve had a bad day, and i know that doesn’t excuse anything but you’re not like her. i’m so sorry. you didn’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you.”

“look, kiyoomi,” you sigh, “figure it out, okay? i don’t wanna be treated like crap. i’m leaving for now, but i’ll come back later.”

“[y/n]-”

“no, omi,” you say, walking away from him, “i said, figure it out. i’ll be back tomorrow night. until then, sort your thoughts out. okay?”

you turn, walking towards the door and opening it. you glanced back one last time to say goodbye when you catch a glimpse of his face.

“please don’t leave me,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. your eyes soften, “i’m not leaving you, dummy. i’m just goin’ over to atsumu’s to cool off for the night. i’ll be back tomorrow. till then, just. reflect, or something.”

“o-oh. um, okay. uh, can i ask you a question before you leave?”

you nod, humming as you grip your bag tightly. his voice is quiet, “are we gonna be okay?”

“i don’t know, omi. i don’t know. but we can try.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ.

kuroo was always sophisticated. you appreciated that about him. in fact, it's what drew you to him more. he was so ambitious in college; he could go on about volleyball for hours. it would be like that on your dates at first. you, him, a muffled movie, blankets and random talks about your futures together.

but when your futures are what drift you apart, can you really blame each other? you weren't college kids anymore—the pipedreams you shared weren't real, life caught on and jobs became hectic. schedules didn't fit with one another anymore. you grew up, and so did he.

and that might've taken a turn for the worse. the complete opposite of what you had imagined it would be.

"tetsurō," you say, losing your patience by the second, "i'm only asking for you to make time. you work overtime way more than you need to and it's honestly affecting our relationship-"

"does your job not affect our relationship?" he asks cockily, raising an eyebrow. you scoff, "you know i gave up that promotion so we could spend more time together. why can't you put in some effort too? it's not like i'm asking for much!"

"i'm only working overtime for us, [y/n]. where the hell do you think all the money goes? it's savings. for us. i work for us. what, am i just not supposed to do that anymore?"

"i didn't say that," you pause, "make time for me, tetsurō. that's all i'm asking from you."

he grumbles, running a hand through his gelled hair. and then, he says something under his breath that you thought would've never come out of his mouth.

"nari wasn't like this at all. tch."

you blink, tilting your head to make sure you heard him correctly. he's taking his coat off and hanging it in the rack. he doesn't see the way your eyes fill to the brim with tears as you whisper, "what?"

he pauses abruptly, turning around, "love, i didn't mean-"

"your ex didn't give up her promotion for you because she was fucking her boss behind your back," you grit your teeth, "if you want me to do that too, all you had to do was just say so."

kuroo stops in his tracks. mouth opening and closing like a goldish’s. he looks shocked at the sudden change in your attitude, but he knows it was deserved. you run up the stairs, locking yourself in your shared bedroom as your fiancé paces around the apartment in worry.

he fucked up. and that too, terribly. it took him a long while to move on from his first love—and who was the one who helped him throughout the process of him returning home drunk off his ass or needed soothing? you. you, his best friend, his roommate (at least, that's all you were back then), and someone who was irrevocably in love with him but never uttered a word.

it took him a long time to convince you that he was over his ex, and that he'd realized he was in love with you all along. college kids might've been all you were, but you were intelligent enough to know that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. his corny chemistry jokes, your clumsy habits, him being better at sports and you being better at video games, him knowing how exactly to make your coffee in the mornings, you knowing just what he needed whenever he was sick. you two just clicked. there was nothing complicated about it, really.

he was the one who proposed to you. and now, it seemed like he was the one who was breaking your relationship into pieces. kuroo cursed, taking his shoes off and racing up the stairs. just then, you stepped out with a bag.

"i'm going over to kenma's," you mutter, "leave me alone for now."

he shakes his head, "no."

you raise an eyebrow at him. your somewhat calm composure scares him, but he continues, "i can't let you leave. i need to fix this."

"you can't just ‘fix this’, tetsurō," you say, trying to walk down the stairs. but he grabs your arm, "i'm sorry. none of that should've been said."

"but you said it anyway, didn't you?" you retort, "what, you want a fortune cookie for apologizing?"

"[y/n]-"

"go back to your so-called nari if you miss her," you snarl, "i'm done."

"no," he cries, "we aren't done. stop."

you continue walking towards the front door, and he grabs your bag. you tsk, trying to take his hand off. but his grip is too strong.

"stop walking away and listen, will you?" he says. his voice is barely a whisper. your eyes cloud with anger, "i've been trying to talk to you for the past hour. but all you've done is demean my feelings for the entire time, and you even had the audacity to compare me to your ex. do you know how hard it was for me to date you in the beginning?"

"i-i do," he sighs, "please, just listen to me. i'm sorry. reminding you of my ex was uncalled for. i won't do that ever again. it was an honest mistake, i swear."

"tetsurō," your voice cracks, "do you even know just how much you hurt me tonight?"

and he sees it. you break down. you stop acting like everything is okay, and your eyes finally let out tears in front of him. you had probably already cried in the bedroom as you packed your overnight bag, but here you were, sobbing as you tightly held onto his dress shirt, hands forming fists. his eyes soften, and he cradles your cheek with his hand, "i know saying 'sorry' isn't gonna be enough. but i really am sorry. i love you, and i can't lose you because i was an idiot and said shit i didn't mean."

he looks up, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes, "i'm sorry. please, just-"

you place your head on his chest, your forehead making contact with his clothed skin. he looks down, abruptly stopping as his hands reach the back of your head, caressing your hair. your cries are quieter than before, tuning down to mere sniffs, "you hurt me, tetsurō."

"i know," he says, nodding, "i shouldn't have said any of that."

"do you," you pause, as if to wonder if you should really say it out loud. to save yourself of the pain, maybe. but you keep going, "do you still think about her?"

kuroo cups your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes, "i'm gonna be honest with you. i found some old high school photos on my laptop today. it's the only reason i even thought of her."

you whimper against him. god, how he hates seeing you like this. he kisses the top of your head before reassuring you, "you don't have to worry about me thinking about anyone who's not you. i can assure you that literally everyone around me knows how much i love you."

you almost roll your eyes. he lets out a sad chuckle before continuing, "no, really. kenma gets annoyed by how much i talk about you sometimes. so do some of my co-workers. i was gonna ask you to come to the expo with me, and they were all going to complain about me to you."

a giggle escapes your lips as some tears fall. kuroo presses a kiss to your nose before whispering, "you don't know how much i love you. the words simply aren't enough. and i hate myself for making you think any less."

"tetsu," you let out a sound before wrapping your arms around him. he laughs, wiping a stray drop away from the corner of his eyes. kuroo lets out a strangled sigh, "you don't know how much it means to me that you're calling me that again."

"tetsu," you say again. he looks down to see you peering up at him, "i love you. please don't say anything dumb like that ever again."

"if i do, i give you full permission to throw concentrated hydrochloric acid into my eyes."

— OIKAWA TŌRU.

you were embarrassed by your fiancé today. again.

oikawa tōru was your high-school sweetheart. he was your first love, your everything. his smile made your heart skip a beat, his touch made you forget about the rest of the world, hs gaze made you think all your problems were tiny compared to your love.

until he had to leave, that is. that was probably one of the most strenuous parts of your relationship—life, maybe. he loved you too much to make you feel the pain of his absence, and you loved him too much to let him go without you. so what did you do? you applied to universities in argentina for your courses.

and you got in. the day you broke the news to him through a surprise party with your friends by your side, you saw him be the happiest boy on earth. his eyes went from the dullest brown to being as bright as the sun. his smile returned, and you embarked on a journey. together.

years flew by. you grew older, more mature and responsible. you had some ups and downs—one really bad argument happened back in college where the two of you took some time off and thought about everything you wanted from life. but then he showed up outside your friend's apartment(where you were staying then). it was raining heavily that night, his hair was slopping wet and sticking to his face. he was with someone during your time off, and he realized that everything that he wanted in life was you.

because it was you, who understood him. you, who supported his dreams. you, who he was so irrevocably in love with that he compared everyone else to you. the three-month break meant nothing. the words he had said during the argument meant nothing. he was yours; he was always going to be yours. ever since he met you at the park as a child trying to chase his toy car, he was yours. remember that time when the two of you had your first kiss while star gazing on the roof of your home? yeah, he still blushes while thinking about it.

you were bitter at first—that he'd gone to someone else after the two of you had taken a break. but with time, you understood that too. he couldn't ask for more.

but today irked you. the past two months irked you. you were grown-ups now. you had responsibilities. just as how oikawa was your responsibility, you were his. so why is it that, in the past two months, oikawa tōru stood you up on every single date the two of you had meticulously planned to fit into both of your schedules? all six of them.

"tōru," your voice is stern, "what part of 'you stood me up' don't you understand? even after i spent a week trying to plan tonight out? i get that your career is important but you spending extra hours at the gym practicing isn't work. it's you being stubborn."

"if i'm stubborn then you're a hypocrite," he retorts, "you pin the blame on me all the time. do you not remember how you kept postponing because of your dumb endless meetings? when i was the one that was free? when it wasn't volleyball season?"

"those dumb meetings are why i earn so much more than last year," you're firm as you pour yourself a glass of wine, "you're being childish, tōru. do you know how embarrassing it was for me? at the same restaurant where you've been abandoning me for the past few months? it's been six times where i've had dinner alone."

"oh, so i'm being childish?" he asks, in a mocking tone. his voice gradually getting louder, "i was at work, [y/n]. i had to work. because i have a game next week. what part of that is so complicated for you to understand?"

"what part of 'we planned this beforehand because you have a game next week and won't be free then' is not understandable for you?" you retort, sipping from your glass as you walk toward the living room. the hardwood floors feel nice against your feet, and just as you're about to sit down on the couch, you hear something you never thought you would.

"tch. yuri wasn't like this at all when i was with her."

the glass of wine in your hand almost falls, but you get a hold of your grip in time. the mature argument you thought you were having isn't 'mature' anymore. oh no, it's much more. you place the glass on the coffee table before looking at him with fury.

"excuse me?" your voice is much ruder than before, "the girl you pity fucked? the girl you were with for the three months when we weren't together? the girl you fucked, pretending that it was me? really, tōru?"

he flinches at your sudden change in tone. his lips are pressed in a straight line as he finally looks at you. your eyebrows knitted together in confusion and betrayal, your eyes covered with rage—but oikawa knows that there are tears behind the clouded anger, ready to spill at any given moment. you were an open book to him, but right now, you were building walls between the two of you that he wasn't sure he could break.

"i-i didn't mean that-"

"oh yeah?" you taunt, stepping a little closer, "what would you do if i went back to the one-night-stand i had when we took a break, huh? what then? do you want me to tell you he was better than you?"

he winces at the words. gosh, he doesn't remember the last time you lost your cool in this way. the last time you two had an argument as serious as this, was in college. both of you were childish back then. but now? you were the one who was trying to stay calm and talk it out, whilst he acted like a total buffoon.

"you know what?" you voice cracks, "screw this. screw you. i'm going over to a friend's. fuck whoever you want."

your footsteps are like pins pricking into his heart when you walk up the stairs of your home. the slam of your shared bedroom door makes him flinch, and his eyes close. when they open, he sees your degree hung up on the living room shelf where his trophies and medals sit.

fuck.

he remembers how he'd warned you that argentina would be nothing like japan. back when the two of you were just kids. back when you left your country and came here, just because he would be alongside you. 

he still remembers the day you’d shown him your acceptance letter. you moved halfway across the world for him. you didn’t even bother applying to japanese schools because of him. you learned a whole another language for him. and what did he do in return? he told you that the two-and-a-half month fling he had was better than you. 

he curses himself as he runs up the staircase. when he opens the door to your bedroom, he finally sees you. sitting at the edge of your side of the bed, clutching a bag as small sobs escape your lips. your ring sits prettily on the nightstand, staring back at him in horror. the ring that was always on you, that you never took off, was sitting somewhere that wasn’t your finger. 

he walks up to you slowly. taking in a sharp breath, he kneels down in front of you. he takes your hand in  his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. you choke back a sob as you ask, “what do you want now?”

“i’m sorry,” he voice is soft, “whatever i said down there was uncalled for. i was acting like a child. you shouldn’t have had to go through that. i’m pretty sure that one-night-stand you had would treat you better than how i’m doing at the moment.”

you chuckle before mumbling, “all i wanted was to spend time with you. we even planned it together because i didn’t wanna bother you with the upcoming season.”

god, how he wishes iwa-chan was here right now so he could get a beating. this is probably the first time he wanted to get beaten up by his best friend willingly.

“i know. i’m sorry. i love you, and i think i just,” he pauses, as if thinking of what to say. or confirming in his mind that it’s the right thing to tell you, “i think i said what i said because you weren’t agreeing with me. i got so used to you doing things for me that i took you for granted. and you didn’t deserve any of that. you deserve someone way better than me. hell, you studied your ass off in high-school so you could come to a whole new country just because of me. you did so much for me. i guess... i guess that got to my head a little. you love me so, so much and i’m so grateful. but [y/n], i proposed to you because i don’t think i can even breathe properly without you by my side. so call me selfish, but i still want you to stay. please don’t leave me because i was an arrogant idiot who said things he didn’t really mean.”

“i’m not going to leave you, tōru,” you murmur, “i’m not going anywhere just because we had a stupid argument. we’re both adults.”

“do you um,” he’s scared of completing his sentence because you might say yes, “still need to go over to your friend’s house? i can drop you if you’d like. i don’t want you driving while you’re feeling so low.”

“no, no,” you wipe away your stray tears with your other hand, still holding onto oikawa. you pause, pondering if you really want to say the words you’re thinking, “tōru?”

he hums. 

“please don’t say anything like that ever again,” you look at your lap instead of his honey-brown eyes, “i don’t know what i’d do if you did.”

he understands what you mean. he gets it. he knows that you will leave if he repeats his mistake. because as complacent as you were, you still had a lot of respect for yourself.

“i promise.”

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

#haikyuu angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa toru x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #sakusa angst #sakusa kyoomi headcanons #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro headcanons #kuroo tetsuro angst #sakusa kiyoomi angst #oikawa angst #oikawa toru headcanons #oikawa toru angst #oikawa drabble #sakusa drabble #kuroo drabble #sakusa fluff #kuroo fluff #oikawa fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! drabbles #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hurt comfort #haikyuu fluff

[transguygardner]

Taylor’s Guide for Getting into DC Comics

decided to make an official post for my method on getting into DC Comics

I don’t know anything about DC Comics and comics continuity scares me

if you’re intimidated by how many comics there are and all the different timelines and continuities and oh my god there’s so many characters then i suggest starting with watching Batman the Brave and the Bold

what it is: it’s a three season 22 minute cartoon from 2008. it focuses on Batman teaming up with a bunch of different heroes and is generally episodic in nature

why i recommend it as a starting point: at this point pretty much everyone has heard of batman in some shape or form. so this gives you a familiar character while being exposed to an enormous cast of different characters. it doesn’t give you the origins or much explanation for many of the characters or how they all know each other which is much like reading modern comics! so it helps you get used to not knowing who everyone is and not getting an origin story every time someone shows up. it also shows you pretty much every corner of the dc universe so you gain some passing familiarity with someone from every niche even if its by name only

some of its flaws: since its an adaptation there are things (many things) that don’t line up with how things are (or ever were) in the comics. which brings me to my next step

READ THE WIKIPEDIA PAGES OF CHARACTERS YOU’RE INTERESTED IN

i’m not talking about the wiki/fandom pages. i’m talking about wikipedia. this will give you some broader context for the characters both in universe and in the cultural landscape. also if you don’t feel ready to read the comics yet/don’t know where to get those comics it will give you other adaptations of that character if there are any. it could also mention another character that you also think is interesting and then you can read their pages

when you’ve done that then you can move onto

I know what character I want to read but how do I know what to read?

your two best friends are going to be googling “[character name] comic vine” and “[character name] dc wiki”

both comic vine and the dc wiki keep lists of character appearances. the dc wiki has them linked at the bottom of each character page while comic vine has them linked at the top

whats the difference between them?

comic vine keeps every appearance of the character under the same list even if its from a different continuity. they also list trade paperbacks and other language reprints under the same page. comic vine sorts it by series so you will see the series that your chosen character has the most appearances in first. which might not always be issues about them

the dc wiki separates out the character appearances based on which continuity its under. so characters will have multiple appearance lists depending on when it was published and if it was for an au or not. for example: bruce wayne (new earth) and bruce wayne (prime earth) are two of the MANY different pages with appearance lists for batman on the dc wiki. vs comic vine where they’re all under bruce wayne. the dc wiki does not include reprints and trade paperbacks under the appearance lists and sorts it alphabetically

so which one do i use?

personally i’d start with the comic vine list. its easier to get the relevant info from and then use it to answer these questions

does your character have a solo series?

a solo series is anything that’s named after that character. sometimes they’re duo series (batman & superman, blue & gold, fire & ice: smallville etc). if yes start with one of those. if you plan on reading everything and don’t mind older writing styles pick the oldest one and move through the list of solo series. if you are turned off by the older writing styles start with the oldest one published in or after 1986. if you just want to read more modern/current stuff start with one labeled “rebirth” at the top

is your character on a team book?

if your character doesn’t have a solo or you read the solos and want to read something else see if they’re on a team book! team books are just what they sound like. books that focus on a bunch of characters that are operating under the same team name. if you read their wikipedia page it probably mentions if theyre on a team. you can also double check with the dc wiki (check the [character name] new earth and [character name] prime earth pages to see if they’re affiliated with anyone)

if they’re in multiple volumes of the same title team book i would generally start with the oldest. again skip any from before 1986 if you can’t handle the older writing styles. and if you only want the really new stuff start with ones with the rebirth label on them

my character doesn’t have a solo or a team book!

so you’ve got a few options.

look up a reading guide (which honestly you couldve done for the other characters too but i think it’s better to learn how to choose which ones to read yourself since they don’t always have reading guides)

start at their first appearance then go from there (if comic vine has your character listed with 250 or less appearances this is a decent choice especially since anywhere from 10 to 25% of those will be reprints)

choose based on the artwork (good art/art you like can get you through a lot of bad writing)

generally all of these are good options to take. with option three just be wary if the writer is tom king since he is known to take extreme liberties with characteristics

tips and tricks

if you really like the writing or the art on a book take note of who wrote it or who drew it. if you search “[creator name] comic vine” it will pull up a page similar to the character ones and you can check what other stuff they made. following a creator’s career is a good way to branch out your reading list and helps you identify what you do and don’t like

if there’s a specific kind of character you want to read (divorced, fire powers, alien, etc) you can check the category pages on the dc wiki. just find the page of a character you know fits that category (maxwell lord for divorced for example) scroll to the bottom. expand the categories and click on the one you’re looking for. you’ll find a list of characters with that tag on them

some characters are just confusing so don’t worry about it. hawkman, hawkgirl/woman, and supergirl have three of the most confusing continuities in dc comics. so if it seems confusing don’t let it stop you

you really don’t have to understand the nuances of continuity in order to enjoy comics. that has never stopped a writer before. so it shouldn’t stop you!

you can read comics with the dc universe subscription or comixology or going to your local comic shop. some used bookstores also have comic bins. if you google “read comic online” you should probably find something. make sure you have a good adblock though

thats basically it. just rinse and repeat with however many characters you want!

final notes

personally i think reading stuff from oldest to newest is the most interesting way to read comics because then you can see how the character has evolved over the years and find out which writers like to collaborate with previous ideas and which ones like to bulldoze it all down

1986 is chosen as a dividing point because that is when DC’s first MAJOR continuity reboot happens. it’s Crisis On Infinite Earths and basically just combines all the different DC earths into one. so there’s a lot of explaining whats going on in those earlier books. you CAN start with the 70s stuff if you want but generally its easier to start with the late 80s if you don’t want to go all the way back

books labeled rebirth are chosen for the people who want to start with the now because that is the start of the last major reboot and will introduce you to the modern interpretation of the character. which imo isnt always the best since a lot of the modern interpretations are more shallow. but to each their own

#dc comics #comics guide

[aaronsrpgs]

"Ancient World Fantasy" Reading List

(A little context to start. If you just want book recs, scroll on down to the first image.)

As I’ve been getting into RuneQuest (Wikipedia link), one striking component of the culture and community surrounding the game is that they’re very into the lore of its fictional world, Glorantha. I’m saying this as a comparison to a game like D&D, where the game is spread across tons of settings with no real sense of obligation to keep things in line with earlier editions.

Glorantha’s canon and worldbuilding has been going on since it was published in 1978 without, as far as I can tell, any big reboots. Which means that, unlike D&D, where people are bringing in all kinds of influences and doing direct adaptions of Jane Austen books and whatever, the RuneQuest game remains pretty tightly tied to the original setting. (There have been some exceptions. But not many!)

But since I run games for people who have ADHD or aren’t interested in studying up, I’ve been looking at all kinds of inspiration to drop into the game. Here are 20 novels that are roughly “ancient world” or “Bronze Age” like RuneQuest and deal with people interacting with strange gods, tight communities, and a world without fast overland travel or transferal of information.

I’m presenting them alphabetically by author’s last name.

The Brazen Gambit, Cinnabar Shadows, The Rise and Fall of a Dragon King by Lynn Abbey

I'm sorry for starting this post off with licensed RPG novels, but these are good! And I don't mean "good for licensed RPG novels." I've read tons of them, and most are so bad! But these are actually fun. Good character development in a sword-and-sorcery world. It's also an ecological apocalypse world, with godlike beings oppressing common folks, leading to a lack of technological advancement and knowledge of the past.

The Long Ships by Frans G. Bentsson

Written in the 1940s as a series of novellas, these stories take you on a tour of the Viking-era world, from Europe to the Middle East and beyond. Like a bunch of books on this list, this places them post-Bronze Age, so they're not officially "ancient world." But it gives a big spread of cultures, from the more clan-based Vikings to the bustling metropolises of Turkey. And it doesn't place any of them on any kind of linear advancement scale or whatever other gross way people "rate" cultures.

Tales of Nevèrÿon and Neveryóna by Samuel R. Delany

The master of weird sci-fi and gay historical novels, Chip Delany also wrote a fantasy epic. And it rules! Set on pre-historical(ish) Earth, these books describe the stories that maybe inform the myths we tell today? Dragons and slave revolts! A sort of "What if Game of Thrones was good?" series. Lots of good stuff about how people learn and how understanding expands.

I'm not listing the third book only because it's also a historical look at New York during the AIDS epidemic. It's an amazing book! But it strays from the "ancient world" aesthetic.

Baudolino by Umberto Eco

Another novel expressly set after the Bronze Age (this one starts in the 12th century). BUT it's about Medieval people's interaction with the knowledge they inherited from the past, specifically the myth of Prester John and the works of Herodotus.

I think I keep putting books like this on the list because roleplaying in a fantastical ancient world is not too far off from how Medieval people might have worshipped and referenced works from ancient Rome and non-European places.

Black Leopard, Red Wolf and Moon Witch, Spider King by Marlon James

One of our best living writers! These are fantasy novels expressly set in a fantastical version of ancient/Medieval Africa. The books explore the same events from multiple points of view and are full of cool magic, awesome spirit combat, and a vast number of places and cultures that actively deconstructs most games's portrayal of fantasy Africa as a homogeneous place.

The Wake by Paul Kingsnorth

I think Kingsnorth has been outted as a sort of eco-fascist? I totally believe it, so feel free to skip this one. It's a historical novel set in England in 1066, as the Normans invade from France. It's written in a faux Middle English language and focuses on the lower classes and how they try to resist the invasion. A good reminder that "Medieval culture" (and especially the Renaissance as a time that "culture advanced") is often based on certain classes of society, such as rich people and/or men.

Iceland's Bell by Halldór Laxness

Speaking of how class intersects with technological advancement, this book is set in the 18th century, but it focuses on Iceland at a time when it was ruled by Denmark, and the lower classes there were under an enforced poverty. It's a book about how a rich Icelander was trying to recover the stories of his people in order to create a sense of national identity and resistance. But it's also a story about how a destitute man acts like a total weirdo when he's not allowed to fish in his own waters and is cut off from understanding his place in history.

The Raven Tower by Anne Leckie

A big part of RuneQuest is people interacting with and enacting their gods. That's what this book is about! And it's about the strange vertigo that comes to people when they try to interact with the impossible timelines that gods exist on. Very good stuff.

Night's Master and Death's Master by Tanith Lee

Ostensibly set on Earth back when it was flat and demons roamed the world, which is basically RuneQuest. Sort of like a series of hornier, gay bibles? With lots of gender fuckery, fun sex, and cool monsters.

Circe by Madeline Miller

The story of the witch from The Odyssey, told from her point of view. Beautiful prose, tragic and beautiful characters, and a great share of mythical strangeness. Perfect if you want to learn how to run NPCs that are adversaries without being shallowly evil.

Ronia, the Robber's Daughter by Astrid Lindgren

Semi-Medieval again, but low class and vague enough that it could exist throughout ancient history. The daughter of a robber grows up in a tower full of robbers and generally has a wonderful time. Lots of weird monsters live in the woods, and there's a great starcrossed romance with someone from a rival robber gang. Perfect inspiration if you're running some cattle-raiding runs in RuneQuest; this is how to make robbers fun and sympathetic.

Read the book, watch the 1984 Swedish movie (which includes a great comedic scene of full-frontal dudity), and then watch the Studio Ghibli series.

A Stranger in Olondria and The Winged Histories by Sofia Samatar

Set in a world of pepper farmers and religious fanatics who worship a mysterious inscribed stone, these books do a great job of showing how people might interact with religion, rival cults, and mystery rites. It also portrays literacy and learning to read in places where it's gated behind social gatekeeping. And once again, the prose is beautiful.

The Palm-Wine Drinkard by Amos Tutuola

The first African novel published in English outside of Africa, The Palm-Wine Drinkard is a funny, hallucinogenic story about getting drunk, stumbling through weird landscapes, and encountering fantastical spirits and people.

Tutuola also wrote My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, the inspiration for the famous(?) David Byrne/Brian Eno album. I haven't read it yet, but I'm keeping an eye out!

The Green Pearl by Jack Vance

This is a sequel to Lyonesse, which I haven't read because I love staring in the middle of things. Set around a mythical British Isles when Atlantis was still above the sea and part of the group of islands. Some great wizard shit, warring clans, romance, and a wizard whose name is fucking Shimrod (in case you need more convincing).

Those are my 20 novel recommendations! I'm gonna come back to add some nonfiction, comics, and myth resources for running games in fantastical ancient worlds. You can read SpeedRune, my ancient fantasy game, here.

#runequest #books #fiction #fantasy

[justcallmenikki7]

Hi, it’s Nikki.

I’m writing this to give you all, the ones who are still here even tho I’ve been basically hiatus for a while now, with some posts here and there. You probably all, also, saw this coming, but I’m sadly done writing.

God, im crying lmao.

Anyways, I realized after constantly trying to write something, outline, everything, I couldn’t write anymore. Maybe it’s because I went through a severe abusive relationship at the beginning of April 2022 to the end of November of 2022, and it completely changed me as a person. I lost a lot of love, likes, whatever you may call it, from that relationship. It changed me, and one of the things it changed in me was my love for writing. My spark isn’t here anymore, and I’ve been trying to hold on for the last possible year and a half for you guys, but it hasn’t happened. I’m afraid of change, I’m afraid of letting go, and have a bad time of accepting the fact that i mayve grown out of a phase, you know? My love for the boys will always be there, always.

What has also caused me lots of stress, and is a sign of losing my spark, has been trying to write and come up with ideas, and creat stories for those who have messaged me privately, and I feel terrible for not being able to do that, and I hate breaking promises/not keeping my word because I wanted to make you guys happy, and I’ve failed those individuals. I’m sorry for not finishing those requests, and I’m sorry that I never actually started them because I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to make you happy, but I couldn’t get anything out and so I sat for the longest time, trying to get a good paragraph, or in a general a sentence out, but i couldn’t and I didn’t.

And I’ve sadly relapsed the other night after almost 2 years of being clean from s/h. My depression has been in the dumps, and even tho I have so many positives going on in my life and such amazing people, and an amazing partner, my mental health is deteriorating and I need to focus on myself.

I know I’ve once done a short hiatus before and came back because sometimes a small break is good to have, but sometimes all things must come to an end, and I’m officially closing my chapter with tumblr and writing for good.

I’ve made a couple of friends on here, and those friends I want to address real quickly and say my peace.

@wickizer , girl you know everything and ily

@minniepetals . My gosh, I remember reading your story String of Fate when it first came out, and I swore up and down, still today I do, that it’ll be published in the hall of fame. Despite it being on its hiatus, it’s still the best story so far. You deserve an award for your writing, and your story Cry Me A River is such an amazing masterpiece. I’ve been meaning to read it all, but life has gotten in the way and I’m so proud of you. Even tho we haven’t talked in the longest time, I’m still cheering you on, on here and outside of tumblr.

@aft3rhrs . Love, you’re amazing and I hope you take care of yourself and take time for yourself. Self love and self kindness is a priority and make yourself a priority. Your writing is beautiful and I’m glad we befriended each other. I’m cheering you on, and always will. Thank you for being a kind person.

And every other writer that I bonded with on here, I love you and will be a huge cheerleader for you. To those who I reached out to when I was still new for advice, or for me to fangirl to, thank you for being kind and helpful.

And to my followers, the ones who cheered me on to keep writing when I first joined tumblr, thank you for being kind and supportive. I love each and every single one of you. You made this place a safe place for the longest time, and I’m thankful for all of you.

I’m sorry for the longest apology and me basically dumping my issues on here, I just needed to be honest with you all. I didn’t want this to sound like a ‘poor me’ ‘feel sorry for me’ but I needed to, like I said before, be honest with you.

This is scary for me, but this is me saying goodbye.

Love forever and always, justcallmenikki7.

[thieves-in-the-palace]

okay so apparently the shiny new thing is much shinier and newer than I thought, here’s a rundown of what info I can find

The protagonist has no official name yet, as is typical. He’ll probably get an unofficial and official one later, much like Akira/Ren and the previous protagonists. His codename is Wonder.

His Persona is Janosik, presumably based off the Slovak highwayman Juraj Jánošík. Though the real Jánošík was understandably Just Some Guy (of the robber variety), his name has been attached to the concept of a folk hero comparable to Robin Hood – someone who steals from the rich and gives to the poor.

His design seems to be directly based off of Joker’s, to the point I’d wager that they probably share (or at least have extremely similar) model rigs. He wields a knife.

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

Our little animal dude this time around appears to be an owl named Lufiel / Luffy. His codename is Cattle for some reason??

His Persona is Rob Roy, who takes on a distinctly mecha appearance for being based off a Scottish outlaw. Rob Roy, real name Robert MacGregor, became a folk hero within his own lifetime after a dramatized account of his life (The Highland Rogue) was published in 1723; MacGregor was 52 years old at the time.

Like Morgana, Lufiel’s appearance switches between “fairly normal animal” and “just a little guy” depending on which world he’s in. Also like Morgana, he can transform into a vehicle and transport the other main characters. He appears to wield tonfa.

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

The third and final identified member of the main cast at the moment is Motoha Arai, codename Closer.

Her Persona appears to be Arveda, though don’t take that spelling to heart. Given the nautical-themed appearance, I THINK it’s based off Alfhild, Viking pirate and daughter of Geatish king Siward. When her father arranged for her to marry Prince Alf of Denmark, Alfhild ran and became a pirate instead, captaining crews of other female pirates and raiding along the Baltic coasts.

Ngl I’m pretty sure she’s the final form of that one untextured model found in P5′s data. God help me but I don’t know what to call her weapon, it’s a chain with a weight on the end?

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

Other stuff of note:

A female student at Kiba Kokatsu Academy, which is the featured high school this time around. It’s unclear if this character will join the main team.

The design of a strange new app which, like the MetaNav, appears abruptly on phones, can’t be deleted, and allows access to a separate world.

New Velvet Room attendant! Her name appears to be Merope, breaking from the Frankenstein character naming convention the other Velvet Room attendants have followed.

#persona 5 the phantom x #persona phantom of the night #p5x #lufiel #arai motohane #arai suwa #merope #p5x luffy #p5x merope #Kidd speaking #not aesthetic

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 17 - Somnophilia & Blowjobs]

Pairing: sub!Namjoon x soft Domme!Reader

Kinks: consensual somnophilia, blowjob, nippleplay, finger sucking, body worship, praise, tears, clothed cock worship, blindfold, they are so in love

Wordcount: 3k

a/n: besties, sub!joon is now my new official obsession uhm? help? Enjoy besties he is legit the bestest boy 💛

Being a self-publishing author means that your hours are long and the days at home are way too little. Your husband understands, as his own job as a music producer keeps him terribly busy and often far away from home, but you still can’t help but feel shitty for always having to leave. 

Tonight however, you are finally coming home again after a month-long business trip. The hour is way past midnight when you enter your house. Until last November, you and Namjoon still lived in an apartment in the city, but with your careers finally taking off, you were finally able to afford your dream house right at the nature-heavy outskirts of the city. Namjoon has been busy filling your house with artworks and wooden furniture while you have been busy staying away far too much.

But not anymore. You will finally stay at home for the rest of the year, looking forward to it greatly.

You don’t call out for your husband when you come home, knowing very well that he will be fast asleep. So you abandon your luggage by the shoe rack and go straight for the kitchen for a light snack. The flight took way too long for you not to get hungry. Once the snack has been successfully consumed, you make your way to the bathroom, admiring all the new artwork you meet on your way. You can't wait to talk about it with Namjoon, you are sure he has the greatest stories to tell about all of them.

The shower you take feels relaxing and like everything you ever needed, leaving you with a feeling of intense comfort. And then it was finally time for you to meet your husband.

Namjoon, just as you had figured, is sleeping soundly, wearing his sleeping mask because he seemed to have been too lazy to close the blinds.

You appreciate his laziness, not only for allowing you to maneuver through the room successfully but also for giving you an opportunity to look at your sweetheart. 

You sit down at the edge of his side, placing your arm around him. 

Namjoon has his legs pulled to his chest and one hand under the pillow. His mouth is open, letting free the smallest snores. You can’t see his eyes, but you know that they are oh so pretty. 

"Hello my love, I’m back", you whisper, running the back of your hand down his cheek, "I missed you like crazy", you say, leaning down to kiss his temple. 

Namjoon mumbles in his sleep. It was incoherent, but sounded happy. Maybe he was greeting you. 

You kiss his temple a second time, then lift yourself to finally get into bed with him. You have just managed to get under the duvet when Namjoon rolls over in his sleep and drapes his arm over you. 

"Oh my god, baby", you almost squeal because of how cute he was, but control yourself to instead hug him back. His head slips into your chest, his back rumbles in his content little mumble and his fingers come resting on your lower back. 

"My baby", you sigh, hugging him tightly, "oh my big, soft baby. I missed you." 

Namjoon whimpers softly, nuzzling into you. You are aware that he is still asleep. But it makes you feel so much. To know that Namjoon searches for you the second you are back in your bed and the fact that he will chase you with soft whimpers even when deep asleep, breaks something inside you. You feel so guilty and terrible for ever abandoning him for so long, so happy to finally be back again and so desperate to make it up to him.

You push Namjoon to his back as gently as possible, placing yourself halfway on top of him and with your leg between his thighs. 

"I'm sorry", you whisper, "I'm sorry for taking so long", you breathe, rolling his head to the side gently to kiss up and down his neck. 

Namjoon sighs in his sleep, lips parting and never closing again.

You know that you are allowed to touch him. You and Namjoon had a long and thorough conversation about somnophilia and whether or not this was an enjoyable kink for both of you. You unanimously came to the decision that you indeed loved it both and just two days after that conversation, Namjoon woke you up with the most mind numbing, pussy-wetting head ever. Ever since then, you regularly wake each other for sex. Sometimes it is simply for a quick midnight wank, other times it serves as a sweet morning wake up call, other times it's the result of your wettest dreams and most of the times it is the desperate craving for another after a long business trip. 

Just like tonight. You are desperate, oh so desperate, for him. 

You abandon his neck to kiss down his collarbones, doing so with your eyes closed in bliss. His skin is softer than you remember, tasting oh so sweet. His pecs feel bigger under your lips, making you roll your hips against his thigh. Even that feels bigger than a month ago, grinding right against your sensitive clit. He is becoming so strong these days. Bear in mind, he will always stay your sweet baby, but you can’t deny that Namjoon's tits feel especially meaty tonight.

"So sexy", you murmur, massaging them with eager fingers, "so big. They’re so big all of a sudden", you add, kissing your way right along his underboob before moving on to his nipples. 

"Ah", the sound he lets out is still distorted in obvious sleep, but it manages to make your pussy wet nonetheless. Sucking on his pretty nipple, you massage the other, basking in how swollen they already feel.

Namjoon writhes slightly, letting out another sound. He must be caught in a deep sleep, because despite the very obvious pleasure you bring him, he continues slumbering. 

"So sexy", you sigh, slipping off his nipple to kiss down his soft tummy, "oh Joonie, you’re so pretty", you say and whimper, holding his waist between your hands as you suck hickeys onto his lower tummy. 

Namjoon moans softly, lips opening and closing and cock throbbing in his boxer shorts. The movement manages to make it grind against your chin. 

You lift your lips, now gawking down at the big bulge. 

"Fuck baby", you press out, placing your hand over his cock to rub it softly. 

"Ah mhm", Namjoon moans, cock throbbing under your palm. You look up at his face, realising that he was still sleeping. Poor boy, he must feel so desperate right now. 

You look back at this cock, wrapping your fingers around it as best as possible to glide them right along the shape of him. His boxers prevent it from standing free, forcing it to lie against his thigh and stretch the cotton fabric. It looks so big and hard. You touch his tip, rubbing it between your two fingers. 

Namjoon whimpers, squeezing his thighs together and failing miserably as you sit right between them.

"Cute, so cute", you mumble to yourself before lowering your lips to his cock. You kiss every inch of it, sighing from how nice it feels against your lips. Even if fabric covers it, the shape of him is already enough to still some of your aching hunger. 

Namjoon begins panting when you reach his tip to suck it right through the fabric. Your hand is on his balls, rubbing them slowly. Your eyes are closed, burning in grateful tears. You can taste him through the fabric. You missed the flavour so much. 

You tasted many cocks before Namjoon came into your life. Many, many terrible ones. But Namjoon is different. Not only is he a passionately clean person with a very hygenic cock, he also tastes so very sweet. Maybe it is because you really love him, but you genuinely think that Namjoon tastes oh so sweet. 

"I missed this", you croak, "fucking missed this like crazy", you rasp, kissing your way up his cock to the hem of his boxers. You tug them down as best as possible, revealing nothing more than his well groomed bush of pubes to you. You kiss them because you’re so crazy for him, inhaling his scent like an addict. 

"Fuck baby, you smell so good", you groan, trying somehow to get him outside. 

You manage after some struggle, holding his big cock by its base as your hungry eyes race over it. 

It looks so pretty in the moonlight.

His veins are swollen and throbbing, his tip is glistening and oh so dark in desperation. Truly, it is so much darker than the rest of his pretty cock, letting you know that his sleepy body is burning up in pleasure. 

You give it to him gladly, opening your mouth as far as possible to take him as deep as you can. You can’t waste any time easing into it, all you wanted for the past month was your husband’s pretty cock. You want to suck it until you're dizzy and his soul has left his body. Suck it, lick it, fuck it. You need it. Want it. Crave it. 

Your hand is around his balls, wrist aching from getting it bended weirdly by his shorts. Your lips are stretching around his girthy shaft, his tongue is swirling right around it. You spill some tears of happiness, moaning around his cock even if that sends an aggressive jerk through him.

"A-ah", Namjoon moans loudly, arching his back before dropping it. He flinches and gasps loudly, making you moan again because you know that means he is finally awake.

You begin bopping your head up and down his cock, eyes glued to his face even if the position is difficult to hold. 

"What the fuck?" Namjoon croaks out, deep voice three octaves lower than normally. 

"Mhhm", you moan loudly, squeezing his balls. 

"What the fuck?" Namjoon groans, ripping off his eye mask to look down at where he feels the hottest aching. He whimpers, face contorting in both happiness and pleasure, "you're back", he gets out. 

You slip off, flashing him a smile, "I'm back baby, I’m back", you say, fighting against your happy tears.

"Oh", he gets out and with his hands cupping your cheeks tugs you up his body. He giggles happily. You giggle just as happily, stumbling into the happiest, most desperate kiss ever. Hands grip the other, fingers are gluttonous in their touch, tongues waste no time finding each other. All you need and want is to kiss each other. You couldn’t do so for thirty long days and now it feels like heaven. 

"I'm so happy", he gets out, squeezing your head softly, "when, when did you come back?"

"An hour ago? Don’t know", you sob softly, "I missed you so much."

"Me too", he says, pulling you back into the kiss. 

You giggle, cradling him against your chest. Namjoon giggles, hugging you oh so tightly. He is so happy to have you back. This is all he craved for since you left him. 

The kiss breaks because you need to look at his face again. You caress his cheeks, eyebrows, temples and cute button nose before tracing his lips. They are puffy and soft from kissing. 

His eyes race over your face, his fingers trace your cheeks.

"I fucking missed you", you press out, wiping his happy tears.

"I missed you too", he whispers, drying your own remnants of tears.

"You've got new art."

"I did. Do you like it?" 

You nod your head, "you've gotta tell me all about it tomorrow, baby", you say nuzzling into his neck for one kiss before you shimmy down his body again back to his cock. You want to taste him.

Namjoon moans softly, lifting his hips so you can finally tug down his shorts. The piece of clothing gets thrown to the side. Then you kiss your way up his inner thigh, guiding your lips with your fingers.

"Ah, please", Namjoon moans, parting his legs. 

"So strong. Joonie, you became so strong while I was gone", you say, kneading his thigh.

"I worked out", he gets out then retorts to moaning again. One month without you left him so desperate for your touches. He jerked off a lot, but nothing compared to you. All masturbating did, was make him even needier for you. And now that he finally has you again, kissing his inner thigh, Namjoon swears that he is on fire. 

You trail your kisses from his inner thigh to his balls, taking them between your lips to suck on them gently. 

Namjoon bucks hls hips up, legs closing around your head in reaction. 

Chuckling, you force them open again, making him lie them back down.

"Relax baby, everything's okay", you soothe him, caressing his thighs as you sink him back into your mouth.

"Oh god", Namjoon croaks, throwing his hands over his face to moan into them. He throbs inside you, thighs trembling and hips trying to chase you. He tastes even sweeter than before, courtesy of being awake and actively taking in the sensations. And how he takes them in, gasping and wheezing for air as his body squirms desperately just for you. 

"I missed this", you tell him, flicking your tongue over his frenulum while jerking off his shaft.

"Please slow please", he begs, rubbing his hands over his face before burying them in his own messy hair. 

"Why? Is someone sensitive?" you tease, taking him back inside. You let his girth glide over your tongue, moving your head up and down slowly whilst massaging his heavy balls. 

"Yes, ah", Namjoon arches his back, "p-please it's been too long."

You merely moan him around him, reaching up with your unoccupied hand to play with his nipples instead.

"Please", Namjoon croaks, twisting the pillow, "please, please s-slow."

"Joonie", you slip off of him, "I am slow, you’re just too sensitive", you say in a faux scolding voice, fingers busy with flicking his right nipple.  

"I can't help it. I, I didn’t have you for a month", he whines and pouts, reaching down to touch your shoulder, "please slow", he whispers. 

"Okay, I’ll go slow", you say, taking him back inside to fuck his cock with minimal movements.

Namjoon sighs softly, eyes glued to your lips and mouth agape in bliss. His hand slips from your shoulder to instead dance up to your fingers on his nipple. He touches your wrist softly, drawing little circles on your skin. He doesn’t pull your hand away however, and something let's you know that his touch was actually meant to keep you close. 

You purr softly, still moving slowly but making sure to slip more and more inside, massaging his balls as you do. When Namjoon finally realises what exactly you were doing, it was already too late and you managed to take him all the way to the back of your throat.

"Oh my god", he presses out, head dropping into the pillow, "p-please slow, please." 

You merely chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. The movement shifts his cock even deeper and Namjoon makes the most desperate sound ever. He touches the back of your head, hips chasing you in an involuntary thrust. One you take with a grateful moan, throat clenching right around his sensitive tip. 

"Fuck, oh fuck. Oh god", he chants, "oh-" he stops talking to instead grip your wrist and tug your hand to his face. He wraps his lips around two of your fingers, whimpering loudly.

You almost pass out. This is so hot. Your husband is such a good boy. You suck him harder, head finally moving faster and moans growing in volume. 

Namjoon mewls around your digits, sucking on them harshly while his eyes are squeezed shut tightly. If he didn’t do that right now, if he didn’t stuff his own mouth with your fingers, he would scream.

All that is keeping him sane is the heaviness of your digits. Namjoon is losing himself and he can’t stop it from happening. 

He throbs inside your mouth, feeding you the distinct taste of his approaching high. You welcome it hungrily, licking it right off his burning tip before sinking back down and fucking him quickly. 

Namjoon bites down on your fingers just slightly, moaning oh so loudly and arching his back. 

His thighs try to fall closed, his balls tense in your hand. 

You growl, throat filled with his girth and spit running down his shaft. 

Namjoon squeaks and then you feel his hot cum shoot down your throat. You take it happily, sucking him hungrily to really get every last drop. 

And Namjoon is writhing, sobbing around your fingers while his head pounds and his limbs feel weak. 

He drops with an aggressive arch of his back, slipping your fingers free to wheeze for air. He feels changed. This orgasm just changed him.

You slip off of him, lying his spent cock on his tummy as gently as possible, before kissing your way up to his lips.

Namjoon lets you kiss him gladly, moaning softly at the taste of himself lingering on your tongue. He probably would have kissed you for the rest of the night, but you break it before he can, cupping his heated cheeks.

"I love you", you say.

"I love you too", he rasps tiredly.

"This was amazing."

"Yeah, it was amazing", he agrees and smiles softly, "thank you."

Your eyes light up in fondness, "god Joonie, you are the cutest person ever. I fucking love you like crazy", you say, climbing on top of his lap to attack him with kisses.

Namjoon takes them with sweet giggles, hands falling to your hips and heart racing like crazy.

"Your pussy's so wet", he mumbles into the kiss. 

"I'm so horny", you answer him.

"Then use me", he whispers, "please."

"Fuck baby, I’m gonna fuck you all night", you moan, shimmying up his body until his face rests under your pussy, waiting desperately to be used.

#namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #sub!namjoon #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #sub!bts #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #sub!bangtan #fanfic: kinktober22

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Guys I am on the edge I am losing it. I haven’t written fanfiction since freshmen year of high school, since then I’ve said all my writing will be publishable. And yet I am mere seconds away from losing myself to a Sully family adopting Spider fic what is wrong with me. The chokehold this series has on me. Anyways here are some headcanons that have been giving me holes in my brain:

-All the Sully's constantly argue over who Spider likes best, especially Kiri and Lo'ak. "That's my best friend" "NO, that's my best friend." "I knew him first." "Well, that's not fair you were born first. I've known him my whole life." Then dark horses Tuk and Neteyam come in like "You'd be surprised to learn spider actually likes me best." For a while after Tuk was born the competition was HEAVILY in her favor and everyone was mad about it. Neteyam doesn’t participate unless he wants to annoy someone, but no one thinks he’s in the running as much as he actually is. Spider has no idea this competition exists and whoever tells him is instantly disqualified so he never will. 

-This shit absolutely applies to Jake and Neytiri too if/when they officially adopt him. Which parent Spider likes best competition. Who can get him to call them mom/dad first wins. It’s absolutely RUTHLESS and everyone knows about it except Spider. I’m fairly certain Jake and Neytiri’s love language is borderline unhealthy competition. Bets are made, sabotage is attempted, Tonowari definitely tries to help his bestie Jake and whatever plan they come up with is dumb as hell, I don’t know what it is but it’s stupid. Ultimately, Neytiri wins. Jake is not sad about it actually. 

-Tuk is every parents worst nightmare. Her siblings are so much older than her, she has been desensitized to everything. When Lo’ak and Kiri were Tuk’s age they were fighting over a toy, but Tuk is pretty sure she’s ready for an Ikran. She is the ringleader of all her friendgroups and she can manipulate anyone into anything. She was the youngest to do everything in her family just to keep up with her siblings, and that means she knows so much more than all her friends her age. She taught them all the swear words they know, and she definitely told every child in the clan how babies are made as soon as Lo’ak told her and they were ALL way too young to know. 

-The entire clan is worried Jake and Neytiri will have another accident child. Only they were surprised by Tuk, no one else was. 

-Neteyam confides in Spider in a way he can’t with his siblings. Not only are they the oldest, but I think he isn’t afraid to not be perfect in front of Spider (This is why Neteyam is Spider’s favorite jkjk). I think they have a lot of chill talks up on the mountains, or they go flying and Neteyam’s just like “What if I fail at the hunt tomorrow?” or some shit and Spiders like “Well, it would be about time, and then you would just try again.”

-Spider is Mo’at’s least problematic grandchild, and the one that annoys her the least consistently. Kiri is still her fav tho. There is no Mo’at’s fav competition because everyone knows Kiri would win, but sometimes Lo’ak says he’s her fav because their names are similar and then everyone calls him stupid.

-Speaking of Mo’at, I’m pretty sure her and Jake get drunk together at least once a month. I don’t know what they talk about but GOD I want to. Only Norm has ever been invited and that was like one time and it’s because he and Mo’at are secret besties.

-Spider gives the best advice ever, because of being the only human child on Pandora he has empathy for everyone. He’s the best person to go to if you did something wrong because he’s for sure done something worse. Unfortunately he is incapable of taking any advice himself, and he is def suicidal a lil. You cannot convince me that kid doesn’t wake up every day wanting to die a little bit. 

-For a solid half a year certified dumbasses Lo’ak and Jake were pretty sure Rotxo was some sort of spirit from Eywa because they never met his parents and never saw him go home and he was always somehow around. They shared this theory with no one but each other, which is good because it’s dumb.

-I think once adopted, Spider is a mama’s boy. He craves physical attention and he has been raised essentially Na’vi in a way that Jake hasn’t. I think he would connect with Neytiri’s parenting style more, I think they’d do a lot of weird shit together that the other kids would rather die than help with, like cooking or mending shit. I think Spider would be literally delighted to help with boring household chores with his mother and that’s so mamas boy of him. He’s a “mother, do you need help with dinner, can I do the dishes so you can sit down?” kid while all the rest of them are gagging and calling him a suck up in the background.

-It comes to a head when he tries to help make lunch instead of going surfing with Lo’ak, Kiri, and Ao’nung, and they have to have an intervention. It’s very serious, everyone was there, Tsireya, Ao’nung, Rotxo obviously came because I’m convinced he doesn’t actually have a home. They treat Spider like a five year old going to his first day of preschool.

-Spider and Neytiri also both have experienced such immense loss, and it shaped them both so much at such a young age. I think the way they would talk about it would be similar, and it would be a connection discovered that wouldn’t be vocally acknowledged often but they would both have that. It’s a mutual understanding that the others can’t get as much that helps them get past any animosity and fear. It takes them longer to get to casual conversation actually.

-If Spider ever got an Avatar Mo’at would make them put off the full transfer until he was older 50% because of his safety and 90% because he’s forced to spend time with her every night when he goes back to his human body no matter where they are. She is vocally grumbling always about how her family never visits. He does not pretend to hate it.

-It started out because Spider wasn’t taking care of his human body well enough, for sure. He’s Jake coded. Mo’at was on Feed New Grandson For Daughter duty. But now it evolved and he’s popping out of the link after a long day of Spearfishing with the Boys (I believe this is Tonowari and Jake’s fav father/son + Rotxo bonding activity) and Mo’at is there with Norm and Spider’s dinner like “you will not believe what this idiot warrior did” and Norms like “Do tell” and Spider has his second dinner with the HOTTEST TEA in the Omaticaya camp that Norm and Mo’at can spill. And one time he’s like “Lo’ak fell off a tree today because he’s too used to the water now” and then when Lo’ak finds out about that he pushes Spider out of a tree (from a safe height).

-(He has to recount this tea the next morning to Jake, this is what he and Mo’at did when drinking, he pretends he wants to be up on current affairs in his former tribe but Jake Sully is a gossip whore and he isn’t hiding it well). 

-No one else is interested in this but Lo’ak. He cares so much. It’s Spider spilling the hottest tea with so much disinterest (he only cares because it’s Mo’at and Norm) and Lo’ak and Jake like gasping and then pretending they didn’t. 

-Obviously Kiri and Spider’s bond is insane and unbreakable but I think one time he stepped on a bug and she didn’t speak to him for the entire day. He probably has nightmares about that day. But also Lo’ak did the same thing once and she didn’t talk to him for a week so. 

-I like to think the rest of the Omaticaya do love Spider cause he’s just that weird little guy that’s always like crouched on the rocks and in the trees and shit. I think he and the Sully’s do have other friends and do spend time with others, but Spider, Kiri, Lo’ak, and then later Tuk, all spend literally every waking moment together because they all can’t escape that little feeling that they don’t quite fit in. 

-Tuk doesn’t feel this way she just wants to be there. Neteyam totally feels this way he just feels like he has to be responsible.

-Neteyam also spent every waking moment with them until he had Adult Business to attend to, like learning to be in charge. Now he just spends all his free time with them. His friends are probably like “Why do you want to spend all your time with your little siblings?” and he has Vietnam flashbacks to the 17 things that Lo’ak and Spider did that almost got them killed that week alone (but also he loves being with them all).

-When the Sully’s leave Mo’at is really sad but Norm visits her annoyingly for weird advice that he doesn’t actually need every day and she pretends to hate it but doesn’t because they are secret buddies. 

-Idk if this even happens to Na’vi but Neteyam’s human dna finds a way and he goes prematurely grey for sure. Kids so stressed it’s a miracle he doesn’t go into cardiac arrest. 

-Tonowari and Ronal literally don’t know where Rotxo comes from half the time. He’s just always there. One time when Ao’nung was a baby Tonowari turned around for like 15 seconds to stoke the fire and then there were two babies, Ao’nung and Rotxo, on the mat. 

-Lo’ak doesn’t think things through. Spider has no self preservation skills. There is a difference. So when Lo’ak suggests a dumb thing Spider will probably do it first cause he has recognized and acknowledged the risks, he just doesn’t care, whereas Lo’ak hasn’t realized yet. So he’ll test it out for Lo’ak first. The amount of dumb shit Lo’ak did went way up when Spider was captured because his human test dummy wasn’t there. 

-Once with the Metkayina, Spider and Lo’ak have found a kindred dumbass in Ao’nung (+ Rotxo). He’s never thought a single decision through in his entire life (neither has Rotxo, he’s just here to vibe). They are menaces.

-Unfortunately for everyone, Jake and Tonowari created them from their own very loins, and they too, are dumbasses. If the RDA ever leave them alone the amount of bad decisions the five of them (and Rotxo) will get up to will be astronomical. There’s at least one incident that gets Jake and Tonowari exiled from their respective marui for the night and they have an Adult Men sleepover on the beach that is like the most fun either of them ever had, but they pretend it was no fun at all when they come back. 

-After that Tonowari replaces Mo’at as Jake’s monthly drinking/gossip buddy. Tonowari has never met most of the Omaticayans, but he could ruin lives with some of the info he has. 

-This one might be out of left field, but I think every single Sully child has had a crush to varying degrees on Spider at some point. I think Spider has never even remotely fathomed that anyone on planet Pandora has ever or will ever like him, and if anyone ever did he might just die of shock. He thinks he’s dying a virgin, probably at a young age.

-Ronal and Neytiri go on pretending to hate each other long after they became friends just for fun. No one figured it out until Neytiri was the first choice babysitter for Ronal and Tonowari’s new baby for like the tenth time.

-If Spider ever beats anyone at anything he believes they let him win and literally nothing can change his mind. He’s convinced baby Tuk let him win in a foot race one time, and that Lo’ak fell out of a tree on purpose to let him win a climbing race. The most criminal one is his claim that Ao’nung got a hole in his net intentionally so all his fish escaped and Spider had more. The joke is that no one other than Neteyam or Tsireya would ever let him win. 

-The amount of times a Sully child accidentally dislocated Spider’s arm trying to pull him somewhere is way higher than anyone wants to admit, but Spider can now relocate his arm on his own like a pro. His pain tolerance is way higher than anyone’s should be. Kid just braces that shit against a tree and pops it back in and everyone is horrified every time. The first time it happened in front of the Metkayina kids Ao’nung threw up and then Lo’ak laughed until he cried. Spider shouldn’t use that arm for at least the rest of the day but he used it to shove Lo’ak for Ao’nung.

-Spider loves babies, will stop, drop everything to watch any baby, because he knows how much Na’vi treasure children and he never feels more important then when he gets to watch a little kid because he was trusted to keep the kid safe.

-Lo’ak and Spider are equally matched at sparring because Spider knows where Lo’ak is ticklish.  

-One time Kiri and Lo’ak had a sleepover with Spider at the lab. Norm pretended to hate it but then let them sleep in the room with Grace’s tank and also made them cookies. It was the best night of Spider’s life. Tuk was too little to go and threw the most massive fit ever about it so Neteyam stayed back to keep her company and he was Very Mature and Not At All Jealous about it. 

-They brought him back a cookie, and then everyone was tired all day because literally no one slept except for Tuk. They all took a nap halfway through the day all in a little puppy pile and that was the real sleepover. 

-Post sleepover, the amount of printed out images of human Jake Sully from video logs with like dumb things drawn on him that have made their way around camp is insane. Norm made the kids draw mustaches on him for sure. Jake can’t take a single solitary step without there being a picture of him with a dick for a nose on a tent pole. He was probably stressed about something and this was Lo’ak’s brilliant Cheer Up Dad plan. It was the worst plan ever, but for some unknown reason it worked, and Jake keeps cackling at them like a crazy person when he sees them. Retaliatory Norm pics are in the works, Jake got all the kids in on it this time. Tuk is really good at drawing pa’li shit on Norm’s head.

-Neteyam knows everything about everyone so when he gets in on teasing and jokes his are fucking crazy accurate and targeted, you’ll never recover. Tuk has picked this up from him and she has that little kid talent to destroy you. 

-Every single time someone goes somewhere Spider says some shit like “I hope I see you again!” and everyone knows it’s not a joke and no one finds it funny but he can’t stop doing it.

-The pact that was born between Ao’nung and Lo’ak to impress their respective love interests is the Fight Club of all pacts, either would kill the other to keep it quiet and not feel even a little bad about it. Lo’ak teaches Ao’nung to climb trees to impress Neteyam and Ao’nung teaches Lo’ak to surf to impress Tsireya. Ao’nung eats shit so hard that Lo’ak almost literally dies laughing but then Ao’nung doesn’t warn him about rip currents so he can rescue Lo’ak in front of Neteyam like he’s in Baywatch, coming out of the water all dramatically and with a lil hair flip and then presenting him with his half murdered little brother like a gift.

-The Sully children have been divvying up who gets what of Jake’s stuff when he dies since Tuk was like four. Obviously, they will be devastated, but it’ll be a little less sad when Kiri gets Jake’s coolest knife and not Lo’ak, or Tuk gets his best arm band before Neteyam can call dibs even tho it won’t fit her. It was a lot funnier before the RDA came back. 

-No one has ever dared to do this to Neytiri’s stuff. 

#these oscillate between #canon universe #and one where neytiri was just chill with spider the whole time #as you can tell #anyways I probably will come up with more but feel free to add #or write anything based off of any of these #for the love of god I have actual submissions due i CAN'T BE DISTRACTED BY THIS #anyways #i refrained from any lo'ak/spider headcanons because i too am surprised that i got got by that ship #bitter man #that fic got me #sorry some of these are silly and some are NOT #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #jake sully #neytiri sully #neteyam sully #lo'ak sully #kiri sully #tuktirey sully #tonowari #ronal #tsireya #ao'nung #rotxo #norm spellman #mo'at #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar

[ganbaramen]

Link! Like! LoveLive! SPECIAL STAFF INTERVIEW

[This interview was published online on the G's Channel website, and is print in the Link! Like! LoveLive! FIRST FAN BOOK, released Dec 27, 2023.]

The Hasunosora Jogakuin School Idol Club is a group of virtual school idols that made their striking debut in April this year. How did their fan engagement app “Link! Like! LoveLive!” come about? Fujimoto Yoshihiro and Sato Kazuki discuss the app’s origin and what they think about the project.

It’s all about enjoying Love Live!—! The untold story behind the birth of the fan engagement app LLLL

—The smartphone app “Link! Like! LoveLive!” (which we’ll refer to as “LLLL”), celebrated its six-month anniversary in November. Let’s look back on the past six months and discuss the birth of LLLL. To start us off, could you two tell us about your roles in developing this app?

Sato: I’m Sato Kazuki from CERTIA, a producer for this app. I’ve worked for game companies as a planner and director, and now I’m a self-directed game producer. From arcade games to consumer software to apps, my path has involved a variety of media. I’ve been following Love Live! as a fan since the µ’s era, and became a producer for Hasunosora’s game after being consulted for a Love Live! app where the members stream.

Fujimoto: I’m Fujimoto Yoshihiro from Bandai Namco Filmworks, and I’m also a producer for LLLL. I started with the desire to make a Love Live! smartphone game.

***

—LLLL’s official start of service was May 20, 2023, but I heard that the road there was quite long. Could you talk about that?

Fujimoto: If we want to start from when development began…. we’ll have to go back to 5 years ago.

Sato: A big part of the appeal of Love Live! comes from these school idols being independent and putting their souls into it as a club activity, so there is a certain kind of enjoyment and emotional payoff from supporting them.

If you insert a “player” who can essentially play god into this, it inevitably feels like a mismatch. Then wouldn’t it be great to turn that idea on its head and instead have an app where you support these independent idols? And streaming would be a great match for that. As we worked out this concept where you cheer on the members as just another fan, this “school idol fan engagement app” took form.

—What led up to integrating motion capture into the app?

Sato: From the very beginning, we had decided that virtual concerts and streams would use 3D models. The development team already had the know-how for streaming with 3D models, so of course we were going to use them.

The key idea is to have the virtual concerts, live streams, and story intimately linked to make the entire experience real-time, so we decided it would be best to have them appear in the same form in both the streams and the activity log (story), which is why the story also uses 3D models. The visuals should be precisely linked so we carefully animated the story with 3D models.

Fujimoto: It is quite rare for the cast to also do motion capture, but it was necessary to realize the vision that Sato-san has described. Yes, it would technically be doable to have the cast only voice the characters and instead have actors do the motion capture, but that would be a lot less palatable.

Sato: It certainly feels a lot more real when the cast is both voicing and moving their characters. The fact that this project is a part of the Love Live! series helped a lot in being able to implement this. The cast loves Love Live!, and it’s because of how much the project staff and cast members put into this that we could make it a reality.

—As an example of this hard work: the cast had intense training on motion and talking, with lessons and rehearsals starting about a year before the app was released.

Sato: In both the live streams and virtual concerts, the cast do the motion capture, in real-time too! Even now, this fact isn’t well-known, or rather, it seems like there are a lot of people who think “No way they go that far!”. Yes, the cast do it themselves!

—So why does doing it in real-time make it good?

Sato: What a pointed question! (laughs)

Fujimoto: What’s important depends on what you value. What we’re aiming for is the feeling of a real concert.

Sato: Putting it concisely, the feeling that it’s live is very important to LLLL. It seems to me that the feeling of being live has recently been highly valued, not just in concerts but in the entertainment industry as a whole. We can look back on works of the past whenever we want through subscription services and the like, so following something now has its own appeal that can evoke a certain zeal. Bearing witness to this moment in history is now viewed as being more significant than it used to be. That’s why we maximize that feeling of being live by having the cast do the motion capture and by streaming in real-time. We felt that those two points are essential.

—So rather than just being parts of the concept, these are essential to the project.

Sato: At one point, we considered doing only the talk and MC in real-time, while having the performance part be recorded. But because we want to get at the heart of the pleasure of having it be real-time, we couldn’t make that compromise.

Actually, the cast do occasionally hit the wrong notes or mess up their dance formations, but these are little things that signal that it’s live—in fact, such happenings can increase how real it feels, which can make the performance feel special if you approach it with the right mindset.

***

—Can I ask about the Fes×LIVE production, like the camerawork, lighting, and outfits? It feels like the production value goes even higher every time.

Fujimoto: I think that’s probably because, just like how the Hasunosora members are growing, the staff is as well, going further each time after saying things like “For the next performance, I want more of this!”.

Sato: Things like flying over the stage or swapping outfits in the instant that the lighting changes—we won’t do those. A core principle is that we aim for a production that matches what school idols would do and constrain ourselves to portray what’s possible in reality.

***

—The story following school idols at a school steeped in tradition—that’s a new challenge, too.

Sato: We had certain reasons for setting this at a school with a long history—so long that this year is the 103rd. There’s this common image of streamers debuting as no-names, and then working their way up to become more popular. But if Hasunosora were like that, the fact that there would be a lot of fans from the beginning would make it very unrealistic. After all, there’s no way your average rookie streamer could be like “This is my first stream!” and yet have 5000 viewers. (laughs)

We thought hard about how to resolve this in a way that makes sense. Then, we figured out that it would work to have a tradition-laden school that was already a “powerhouse”. So in the end, we made it a point to have the school be a powerhouse with a history of having won Love Live! before.

—So the school already had fans following it, with high expectations for the new school idols: Kaho and the other first years.

Sato: Yeah, it’s meant to be like one of those schools that are regular contenders at Koshien, the national high school baseball championship.

—The world-building is done so thoroughly that such an answer could be arrived at pretty quickly.

Sato: We consulted with many people, starting with the writer team, about implementing the concepts that we mentioned before—having the cast do motion capture to maximize the live feeling, and doing the streams in real-time.

In the beginning, there was a lot of resistance to the idea of trying to successfully operate an app while constructing the story and streams such that there would be no contradictions between them. If you do streams in real-time, such contradictions can certainly arise—you have to work out the setting in quite a lot of detail, and even then, things can happen that are impossible to predict.

But my thinking was always that this is doable if we adjust how often we synchronize the story and streams. I think it’s impossible to stream every day and release a new story every day. But on the other side of the spectrum, if we were to write a year’s worth of story ahead of time, and then do however many streams within that year, that would certainly be doable. 

Following that line of thought, in the early stages, we had a lot of discussion about how often we could do streams, searching for the limit of what would be possible to implement. As a compromise, we arrived at the system of fully synchronizing once a month. For each month, we can keep the setting relatively flexible, not setting everything precisely in stone until the month is over. We thought that a monthly frequency should make it possible to both maintain the charm of the story and implement streams.

But right now we’re streaming three times a week, so there end up being a lot of things like “they shouldn’t know this yet” or “this event hasn’t happened yet”. It feels like putting together a complicated puzzle.

Fujimoto: There’s one aspect that we haven’t made clear before—I don’t think there are many people that have realized it. It’s that the talk streams are the furthest along in the timeline, while the story shows what has already happened. It’s not that the story happens on the day that we update it, but rather that the story describes what happened up to that day. People who have realized this have probably read quite closely.

Sato: That’s why it’s called the “activity log”. The With×MEETS serve the important role of synchronization between what happened in the activity log—the world of the story—with reality, so we carefully prepare for them each time.

—That makes sense! One nice thing is that if you keep up with the With×MEETS in real-time, then watch the Fes×LIVE, it feels like keeping up paid off—”Good thing I watched the With×MEETS!”.

Fujimoto: It would be great if our efforts got through to everyone enjoying LLLL.

—If you set things up that carefully, it must be difficult when irregularities happen. In August, several cast members had to take a break to recover from COVID-19, causing many With×MEETS to be canceled. How did you deal with that?

Sato: The silver lining of that period was that it avoided the most critical timing. If that had been off by even a week… it might not have been possible to recover from that. This project always has this feeling of tension, because there is no redoing things.

***

Tackling the Love Live! Local Qualifiers! The culmination of the story put viewers on the edges of their seats!!

—On how people have reacted to LLLL: was there anything that went exactly as planned, and on the other hand, was there anything that defied your expectations?

Fujimoto: To bring up a recent event, the Love Live! Local Qualifiers in October very much stood out. There was tension all around—even I was nervous about how it would go. The feeling that “these girls really are going to take on this challenge, at this very moment”. It was like watching the championship of the World Baseball Classic… Well, maybe that’s an overstatement, but an atmosphere similar to that. I’m really happy that we managed to create such an atmosphere with the cast and everyone who participated as a user.

Sato: Not just in sports, but also in the world of anime or fiction, there is definitely a certain excitement that arises when you “witness” something. Bearing witness to the moment that “drama” is born produces an impulse, something that hits deep. This is not something that can be produced in an instant. Rather, such an overwhelming concentration of passion can come about only because so much has happened up to that point.

That’s why, aiming for “that moment”, we first have people experience the Hasunosora members’ existence and reality day after day. After having connected with the members and viscerally felt the sense of being in sync with their “now”, something new will be born…

The closest we’ve gotten to an atmosphere of tension that’s as close as possible to the real thing is what Fujimoto-san just mentioned, the Love Live! Local Qualifiers. I think part of why that was such an “incredible” event was the weight of everything that happened in the Love Live! series up to that point.

—Is there anything else from the fans’ reactions and the like that was unexpected?

Fujimoto: For the talk streams, we have a system where everyone can write comments in real-time. Some users go all in on the setting and act as if they’re in that world.

Sato: The characters are not aware that their everyday lives can be observed in the story, so these users adhere to the rule of not talking about anything that’s only depicted in the story, commenting as if they don’t know what happened there. And if you do that, your comment might get read. So you really can be a participant in the performance. We were surprised at just how many people were earnestly participating like that.

—It’s like making a fan work in real-time, or rather, it’s like playing a session of a tabletop RPG.

Sato: I think what we’re doing here is very much like a game. It’s the “role-playing” of a tabletop RPG taken to an extreme, a pillar of a certain kind of “game”, or maybe more like a participatory form of entertainment.

—Oh, I see! It’s as if we’ve returned to the classic reader participation projects of Dengeki G’s magazine, which is kind of touching.

[Translator’s note: Love Live! originated from Sunrise collaborating with the Dengeki G’s magazine editorial department, bringing Lantis in for music.]

Sato: Yes, indeed. In the era of magazine participatory projects, the back-and-forth would have several months in between. In comparison, a real-time system makes it easier to participate, which I think is a significant and useful advancement. For now, in the first year, it feels like we’ve been grasping in the dark while trying to do the best with what we have. But we’re thinking about how best to adjust the frequency and volume of activities from here on.

Fujimoto: Also, the users have largely figured out all the hints we cooked in!

Sato: They’ve been looking in quite some detail. (laughs) Our cooking has paid off.

***

—Is there any challenge that LLLL is taking on anew?

Sato: Going back to what I said at the beginning, I was a huge fan of µ’s, so I started by trying to analyze and put into words just what made me so attracted to, so crazy about them. 

A big part of the charm was that it involved youth and a club activity, so by following their story and cheering them on, you could vicariously re-live the passion of those three years in high school. So I wanted to make it so that you could re-live that experience of youth in depth.

My goal is to have it feel so overwhelmingly real—through LLLL’s real-time nature—that you can unwittingly delude yourself into the sense that you’re re-living your high school years.

Fujimoto: If we’re talking about a new challenge, maybe it’d be good to touch on how frequent the interactions are.

For example, let’s consider a one-cour anime. No matter how much you’d like to keep watching it, it ends after three months. Even if it turns out there’s a continuation, you’ll have to wait before you can watch that.

In contrast, if we turn to virtual content, people are streaming three times a week on YouTube. In that vein, what we’re aiming for with this project is this: you can follow this group you like throughout that limited time between matriculation and graduation, and during that time they’ll always be there for you to meet.

***

—Some people are expecting an anime as one of the future mixed-media developments. To put it bluntly, what do you think about that?

Sato: What we are doing right now with Hasunosora would not work outside the structure of an app. As mentioned before, it’s not quite a tabletop RPG but rather a participatory form of entertainment, and it’s that structure that allows fans to experience the true spirit of the Hasunosora Jogakuin School Idol Club.

—So for now, we should experience it through the streams in the app! Is that what you’re saying?

Fujimoto: Exactly. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that LLLL is a project to make you fall for these girls throughout their streams—that’s how much effort we’re putting into it.

Sato: Starting LLLL by going through the story and then participating in the With×MEETS streams might be more common, but you can also start enjoying it in a novel way by just jumping into the latest With×MEETS stream. The members’ engagement with the comments has been especially noticeable in the most recent streams—it feels like a symbiotic relationship.

***

—Finally, a word for those who are looking forward to the project’s future.

Sato: I can confidently say that LLLL is a new experience made possible because of the times we live in. Because of that, it is very high-context, so it’s hard to explain how it will make you feel or what kind of game it is—you must play it to understand. We are very aware of how much of a hurdle this is, and how it might be difficult to get a grasp on if you start later.

But if you’re willing to take that first step into the world of LLLL, we promise to bring you content that is worth following. So to those reading this interview: please do consider trying it out once, even if it’s with a window-shopping mindset.

Fujimoto: Hasunosora’s story can only happen because of everyone watching. We hope you’ll keep supporting us!

Sato: We’ve prepared plenty of tricks up our sleeves for the end of the school year in March, so please look forward to it!

Credits

Translation: ramen Translation check: xIceArcher Various suggestions: Yahallo, Yujacha, zura

#love live! #translation #hasunosora #link! like! lovelive!

[porcelaintoybox23]

Ways the Ric/Talon arc should’ve permanently affected Dick Grayson

He should’ve killed someone. I refuse to believe the court of owls wouldn’t make him kill someone. I don’t care that he’s Nightwing, you want a talon you commit, you cowards

Paler skin and gold rings in his eyes

Sensitivity to cold and bright lights leading to extra layers even in warm weather and maybe glasses or shades

Spacing out and not moving due to the after affects of being a zombie slave. Like needing to be told to fucking use the bathroom

General trauma

Every owl has eletrum so should Dick. Either do it, or don’t make him a talon. Why waste the effort to give him fake memories?

Rage at everyone since they literally abandoned him to suffer

Taking a break from Nightwing since y’know fucking trauma

Less social

Flashbacks

Memory loss, like forgetting a few memories so he questions his reality

The pain of knowing he’ll never be the exact same because that’s what mental illness and acquired disabilities make you reckon with

I really hate comics

God, I know normies people are fucking obsessed with the bats and their “No kill” bullshit but it’s getting to the point where their stories can’t be adequately explored because DC writers, besides being shit, never push the envelope. It’s not like canon resets every five business days or that there aren’t elseworld comics. If you don’t have the stomach to actually explore the horror of Dick losing his memories and becoming a talon, an elite assassin, then don’t do it. I’m sick of seeing people praise some of the worst writing I’ve seen. These are officially published works. Grow a goddamn spine and write stories that are compelling and make sense.

#so help me I’m may write a fic #dc #dick grayson #dc comics #ric grayson #talon #talon dick grayson #the court of owls #nightwing #were the comics ever good or are they just crap over the last decade? #100 people read this and no one told me about the wrong their 😭

[blue-rick24]

Cover art & previews from the new Official Rick and Morty Coloring Book published by Insight Editions!

(Available on Amazon.com)

Hi, I just wanted to highlight how cute this artwork is... Especially how the artist drew all the Ricks, plus the inclusion of Shrimp Rick, one of my favorite Ricks XD

These previews from the first few pages of the book seem to be based on S4 only, but the listing says that the book includes art based on “fan-favorite scenes from seasons four, five, and six”, so I’m excited to see what other scenes they’ve chosen to recreate in this adorable style from illustrator Austin Baechle!

That’s it, Enjoy the previews from the Amazon listing! 

WAIT ALSO, I have just one more very important highlight from all of this XXDD:

GOD LMFAO this part is actually so in character XXDD

#my post #why did they make rick's pants green on the cover lmao #I'm actually debating on whether or not I would actually color in this or not XXD #also rick actually drew himself wrong on the cover there LOL #he's trying #rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #amazon #not sponsored #coloring book #art #insight editions #Austin Baechle #rick and morty season 4 #rick and morty season 5 #rick and morty season 6