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wineauntie · 4 months

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can you write on for quinn where you cook dinner together

A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE – quinn hughes x gf!reader (smut)

note: I know this isn’t my Luke imagine but I couldn’t sleep until I wrote this request! I was so in love with this idea and I can’t lie, I hadn’t planned on it slipping into nsfw material but it all just happened before I could stop, so I hope you enjoy it!

Smut will be separated with asterisks***

warnings: SMALL SECTION OF NSFW CONTENT, MDNI 18+, fem!reader, smut, fingering, f receiving, reader is a ray of sunshine, fluff to the extreme– Quinn is so whipped for reader. Use of nicknames: pretty girl, sweet girl and baby. Quinn has a dirty mouth fr, reader likes cooking and baking.

word count: 3.7k+

One thing you had yet to get used to was the coldness that could sweep across Vancouver. Winter was never too extreme here but occasionally, the snow and stormy weather would infiltrate and last anywhere from a few days to a week. You loved the snow with your whole heart, you just hated being cold...hence why the heating in the apartment had been on blast since you’d reentered your home. You'd been sent home early, by your manager when she'd heard that there was a storm inbound. You'd jumped at the opportunity and rushed home as soon as possible.

Upon your arrival home, you'd instantly stripped yourself of your multiple layers and shrugged on a pair of your fluffiest socks. You'd flitted around the apartment lighting several candles around the kitchen, and living room, along with turning on various lamps you'd found in thrift shops downtown.

You hummed lightly, content in the comfort as you moved into the kitchen, an empty cup that had once been filled to the brim with tea tucked in your hand. The kitchen was your pride and joy out of the whole apartment. It had been painted a softened yellow hue, with white vinyl cabinets and rustic wooden shelves stocked with plants, cooking books and various trinkets. Your varnished wooden countertops lay home to multiple chopping boards, even more plants and a range of appliances.

"I'll be home in five :)"

Your smile widened as the text lit up your phone. You bit your lip as you placed the cup by the kettle and leaned against one of the countertops, your eyes scanning the silent kitchen. You turned towards the small radio hidden between the plants behind you on the windowsill, as your thumb scrolled through your Spotify playlist on your phone whilst the Bluetooth connected. Selecting your favourite playlist, you let out a content sigh, turning up the volume to fill the quiet.

You were in the mood to cook. The need always swept over you every time you stepped into the kitchen, but tonight it was overwhelming. You moved around the kitchen, opening cabinets and the fridge, searching for inspiration to hit you.

Your search was interrupted as the creaking of the front door erupted from the hallway. You heard rustling before the door creaked shut once more. You beamed and hurried towards the door, barrelling towards your boyfriend as he swiped the grey beanie off his head.

"Oh, hello," he smiled, letting his arms fall around you as you crashed into his chest. You felt giddy, quite like you always did when you found yourself around Quinn. "Have a good day?"

"Mhm..." You nodded as you unlatched from him, allowing him to take off his jacket and shoes. "Got sent home earlier due to the storm. How was practice?"

"Good, we just ran drills" Quinn supplied before he turned towards you and tackled you in another hug, basically carrying you towards the kitchen. "'m feeling a bit hungry though, will we order in?"

"I was thinking of making something," you spoke, your hands draped around his neck and your feet on top of his as he moved to set his keys on the counter. "I couldn't decide though...I wanted to wait and see what you'd maybe like."

It was Quinn's turn to hum as he bent down to bury his face in the nape of your neck. "What about pasta?" He suggested, as your eyes ran around the shelves for any stand-out cookery book.

"We had that yesterday," You dismissed with a frown whilst your eyebrows scrunched together.

"We could have it again," he shrugged, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse point. "The Italians have that stuff almost every day, surely we'll survive."

Your eyes lit up at his words as you yanked yourself from his grip and bounded across the kitchen. You pulled yourself up on top of one of the counters and grabbed a cooking book from the top shelf. As soon as you moved, Quinn followed, his arms anchored on either side of your legs in case you were to fall.

"How do you feel about pizza?" You questioned with a gleam in your eyes as Quinn helped you down from the counter. "I have a recipe that's easy to make from scratch...ooh! We could also make garlic bread!"

He watched you with soft eyes as you spoke excitedly, your eyes scanning the open cabinets for the ingredients. He loved to see you like this, with happiness radiating out of you. It made the stormy and snowy days like today seem incredibly irrelevant because who needed the sun when you'd bottled it up and released it with every grin you let slip across your face?

"Pizza sounds great, pretty girl." He smiled, his hands running down both of your arms soothingly. "As long as I can help?" He didn't know your twinkling smile could grow any larger, but it had as you practically bounced across the kitchen to grab two aprons.

"Apron up, Hughes," you teased, handing him the pale green apron you'd bought him when you'd moved in.

"I should be saying that to you," he remarked, tying the apron behind his back with a smirk. "I know how messy you can get."

With a feigned look of shock, you playfully whacked Quinn with your apron, stumbling when he caught it in his grasp and pulled it towards him so that you were now nose to nose.

You watched with bated breath as he placed the half apron around your waist, turning you to tie a neat bow in the back. His hands lingered over your waist as you turned around to face him once more. You stood on your toes and pressed a delicate kiss to his lips.

"Welcome home, by the way," you laughed as you pulled away. "I forgot to do it when you walked in."

"Oh, I know," Quinn replied, leaning forward and claiming another kiss before allowing you to grab your cooking book. You hummed along to the song playing in the background as your fingers skimmed through the pages, looking for the pizza recipe.

"Okay, I have dough left over in the fridge from those garlic and rosemary knots I made the other night, so it should be okay to use that for the base," you began as you moved to open the fridge and rummaged for the dough. You retrieved the container you knew was filled with dough and glanced at Quinn. "This should be enough for one big pizza? And we could share it with the garlic bread?"

"Sounds good, baby," Quinn agreed from his place at the sink where he was drying his washed hands. He made his way towards the cabinets and began to pull out an array of ingredients.

You let him walk back and forth to the countertop you intended to use as you scrubbed your hands in the sink. Quinn was continually examining the cookbook, depositing all the ingredients one by one until they were organised in front of the refrigerated dough.

"Okay," you huffed, your hands settling on your hips as you joined his side. "We need to preheat the oven, make the sauce and roll out the dough." You moved towards the oven, pressing a few buttons before returning to your station. "Step one, done! Alright, how about you crush one clove of garlic for the sauce and then maybe four or five for the bread and I'll start mixing the tomato passata and basil?"

Quinn nodded, his mouth slightly agape at how easily you controlled the world when cooking. Whilst he began rooting through the drawers for the garlic crusher, you began to pour out the passata into a large mixing bowl, which Quinn had grabbed and placed down whilst you were washing your hands.

Your humming filled the kitchen as you stirred. Quinn quickly crushed the garlic, looking at you for confirmation as he dumped the one clove into the sauce. You grinned from ear to ear, thanking him as he moved on, crushing the rest of the garlic and grabbing the butter from the fridge. You continuously stirred, ensuring the sauce had been mixed thoroughly. You made light conversation with Quinn as you worked, recounting your day from start to finish.

Quinn listened intently, soaking in your words as if they were honey. He listened as you told him all about your lovely local customers at the cafe to the cat you saw in an alley on the way to work, and he drank all of it in, his eyes finding it hard to focus on the task when your magnetism sought out for him.

"Oh, Q, there should be fresh ciabatta in the bread bin," You told him, "I picked some up when leaving work earlier, just in case we needed it…lucky us!”

"You are something else," Quinn commented with a lazy smile, his hands lightly brushing your allowed back as he moved to grab it. Shivers erupted down your spine at the sparse touch, a breathy sigh escaping your lips.

"Okay, so," You clapped your hands, "the sauce is all mixed, so is the garlic butter–thank you, now...it's just the dough and then toppings!"

Quinn helped set out a large baking sheet and sprinkled some loose flour across the countertop as you retrieved the dough from its container.

"Why don't you grab toppings, and I can start rolling?" You proposed, your bright eyes examining Quinn's face.

"Yes, chef," he saluted, causing you to laugh and push his chest. You slightly shook your head with a smile as you rolled out the dough, trying to maintain an even base. You focused on rolling, your eyebrows scrunched in concentration as your fingers darted out to roll the edges for the crust.

Quinn soon returned to the countertop with an armful of toppings in suit. He placed them all carefully nearby, so as not to crowd you as you focused.

"Why don't we split the pizza into four and do a different topping for each quarter," Quinn murmured, brushing a fleck of flour off of your cheekbone.

"You are incredible," You gushed, your eyes widening at the thought before your face turned rather stern. "but if I see one tiny sliver of pineapple, Quintin Jerome, I will not be happy!"

"No pineapple, pretty girl," he chuckled, "I got it."

Quinn helped to hold the sauce bowl as you gently scooped out and spread the sauce across the base of the pizza before the two of you scattered the mozzarella on top. You and Quinn each took half of the pizza, allowing the two of you complete control of the two quarters.

On one of yours, you placed sliced tomatoes and green peppers with a scattered spread of pesto, whereas on the other, you dispersed diced onions and spinach. Satisfied with your side, you glanced at Quinn, knowing all too well, he would add the meat to both of his. Lo and behold, he had placed pepperoni on one and pre-shredded chicken and red peppers on his other.

His arm fell around your shoulder as both of you stepped back to admire the masterpiece you'd created.

"I almost feel bad having to put it into the oven," you say sombrely.

"I can do it," Quinn spoke, his raspy voice low. "Saves me from worrying about you burning yourself."

"That was one time, mister," you huffed, pointing your finger at him in mock accusation, but your smile betrayed you.

"One time too many," he chided as he removed his arm from your shoulder and cautiously lifted the baking sheet that the pizza had been rolled on, moving it onto a tray before sliding it into the oven and setting the timer.

You watched until he shut the oven door before you sprang into cleaning mode, gathering all of the used equipment and placing them by the sink. Just as you took off your apron and were about to roll up your sleeves, your arms were restricted by Quinn's hands around your wrists as he slowly tutted.

"Nuh, uh," he shook his head with a pointed look, spinning you slowly to face him. "I'll clean up after dinner."

"But–"

"No buts,"

"I thought you liked my butt," you simpered cheekily, causing Quinn to roll his eyes.

"I do...very much," he agreed, pulling you into the centre of the kitchen before he lowered his voice. "Especially when it's squirming beneath me as you beg me to let you come."

All air left your lungs as a nonchalant Quinn stretched out a hand to turn up the music. Etta James' A Sunday Kind of Love had just begun to play, her sultry and smooth voice echoing around the kitchen as your boyfriend held you in his close grasp.

"Dance with me," He held your arms, his eyes searching yours for an answer. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you stepped closer to him, your chests pressed together, one of your hands clasping his, whilst the other curled around his neck, toying with the strands at the base.

The soft glow of the candles and kitchen lights created a warm ambience, casting intertwined shadows that danced along with your synchronized movements. Quinn's fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, pulling you even closer as the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in the timeless embrace of the music.

Your head lifted from where it had found itself nuzzled into him. Quinn's loving gaze locked onto yours, his eyes reflecting a mixture of playfulness and desire. The warmth of the kitchen, the subtle scent of dinner lingering in the air, and the rhythmic beat of the music made you want to bounce up and down with joy, belting from the rooftops that you adored your boyfriend and anything he did.

The dance floor was the small expanse of tile under your feet, but at that moment, it felt like you were lost in a world of your own creation, each step cementing the love and care you had for the man in front of you.

In a stolen moment with the music as your witness, Quinn leaned in. His lips met yours in a tender kiss as if sealing an unspoken pact, and for a fleeting instant, the only thing you could fathom was the taste of his lips.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. Your smile traipsed across your face as you leaned forward, recapturing his lips, and deepening the embrace. His thumb caressed your cheekbone as you sighed happily, your fingers soothingly twirling around his hair.

In a sudden move, Quinn's hands dropped down and grabbed your waist as he picked you up and carried you towards the dining table. You emitted a loud squeal, the two of your faces remaining close together as he monitored your emotions. You were still laughing when you were placed down on top of the table, his arms caging your body as his nose skimmed along the warmth of your neck. He placed a gentle kiss on the supple skin beneath your ear, earning him a quiet gasp for air whilst he moved across your jaw until finally lingering a mere centimetre away from your lips.

You whined as you tried to lean forward and take his lips with your own only to be stopped by an amused and dishevelled Quinn, avoiding your movement. His blown pupils examined your wide eyes and pouting mouth before he finally crashed his lips to yours once more.

***

This time, your kiss was feverish, your hands grasping at Quinn's shoulders as his ran along your thighs before creeping towards the waistband of your pants. You careened into his touch, panting into the kiss as he slowly shifted your weight so you were against him before he yanked down your pants, and tossed them across the room.

You gasped at the suddenness of it, your head spinning in need as Quinn pulled away to let you breathe, continuing his tirade of kisses down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point to slowly suckle at your skin. You let out a prolonged moan, your neck arching as one of his hands held your cheek to tilt your head, giving him more access to the skin there, whilst the other hand's fingertips traced circles on your upper thigh.

You melted at his touch, your body putty as he ran his tongue over the reddened patch of skin on your neck once more before he pulled away, placing open-mouthed kisses up to your ear. You gulped as his fingers brushed across the fabric of your panties, your eyes fluttering shut as he stroked his thumb against your cheek.

"Oh, baby," his deep and comforting voice drawled, "you're soaked through." You whimpered as Quinn removed his fingers from the material, placing them lightly in your pubic bone. "You been waiting all day for this, hm?"

You looked toward Quinn, whose darkened eyes kept a careful watch on your face. Your throat tightened as your words failed you, nodding frantically, while your hands desperately gripped his shirt.

"Words, y/n/n," he spoke more softly, his nose brushing yours as he shifted his position.

"Yes," you immediately gasped out, your half-lidded eyes overwhelmed with desire. "Need you...please!"

"So polite," he cooed, his finger tucking a strand of hair out of your face. "I'll tell you what, pretty girl, since you asked so nicely, I'll give you what you need." His fingers above the waistband of your panties slipped beneath the fabric as you let out a breathy moan. His fingers met your wetness instantaneously, a deep grumble slipping from his lips at the feeling.

"All this for me, huh?" He murmured, his finger circling your bud as you struggled to speak. Your head fell back in silent ecstasy, with your mouth agape as he slowly worked a finger inside of you, your walls clenching down as he moved it in and out. "You look so pretty like this," Quinn spoke in hushed tones, "all wet, needy and mine."

"Yours," you parroted breathlessly as he sank another thick finger inside of you. His other hand remained cradling your head, his lips ducking to kiss yours as your body trembled around him. He pushed his body closer to yours, causing your legs to spread further, his clothed groin skimming your own.

"You take my fingers so well," Quinn praised, his eyes unmoving from your blissed face. The feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of your drenched core, fired up every brain cell to send you into overdrive, wiping away any thought other than the pleasure he was giving you. Your hips bucked towards his fingers with a shameless moan, as you tried to feel as much of him as he was letting you.

He curled his fingers inside of you as he moved them quicker, his thumb moving upwards to stroke your sensitive bud whilst you crumbled on the table, the only thing keeping you upright being Quinn's steady hand on your face.

"Oh, does my girl need to come already?" Quinn lowly taunted, as he picked up the pace, his fingers now in an upbeat rhythm, in and out of you, as his thumb furiously rubbed your clit. Your staggered breaths and squeaks of pleasure grew rapid as your fists clenched tight around his shirt.

"Please, Q," you babbled as you begged, your eyes swimming as you found yourself stammering—drunk off of the feeling of Quinn's intoxicating touch. "Please, let me come, please?" You practically sobbed out your words, your back arching as the knot of warmth in your stomach grew tighter.

You felt his breathy laugh against your cheek as his fingers continued their onslaught of pleasures. Quinn leaned closer, letting his chest press flush against yours before he whispered a single word.

"Come.”

You needed no more prompting as your eyes fell shut and you cried out, a loud series of moans tumbling from your lips. Your body shuddered as the knot in your stomach snapped and pleasure erupted across every nerve, sending tingles down your spine all the way to your toes as Quinn worked you through your orgasm. He pumped his fingers in and out until he'd drawn out as much pleasure as he could, leaving you a panting and soaked mess.

The sharp ringing of the oven timer resounded and Quinn chuckled, removing his fingers from you as you whined at the loss of his touch. He raised the fingers to his mouth and licked your juices off of them, his gaze never straying from your overwhelmed self.

***

"Just in time," he said as his fingers popped out of his mouth. His lazy grin returned to his face as he moved both of his hands beneath your shaking legs before placing you down on a blanket on the couch in the living room. He moved the blanket to cover your legs as well as the couch beneath you before stepping back.

"You sit here, sweet girl, I'll sort the food." He told you, his hand lightly brushing over your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your head as you slumped into the softness of the couch.

You sat happily, watching as Quinn moved around the kitchen so freely as if he hadn't just pushed you into oblivion. You found yourself smiling softly as you settled into the warmth and it hadn't taken him long to reappear with one large serving platter with your pizza on top.

He sat down beside you as you quietly sprang to nestle into his side, trying to get as close to him as possible. He held a slice of pizza towards your mouth as you slowly bit into the end, before swallowing it. Quinn talked quietly to you as you ate, choosing to feed you at least one whole slice before he dug into his own. You remained cuddled into his side as you finished the slice, his arm draped around your shoulders.

"The garlic bread's just gone into the oven," Quinn whispered, watching as your eyes searched for something. They snapped towards Quinn at his words and he raised a brow knowing he'd hit the jackpot. You buried yourself in his side once more, his hand running through your hair as he plastered a joking smile across his face- the smile you adored.

"I got so caught up in dessert that I completely forgot about the sides..."

a/n: I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this man <33

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes smut #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism #literally toothrotting fluff #soft!quinn hughes #I love quinn hughes what a man #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks

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dwuerch-blog · 2 years

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How Rich I Am

This blog was inspired from listening to Air1’s Christian radio DJ. He and his co-DJ were asking their audience what they did to economize. One listener said she cuts open the toothpaste tube and scrapes out enough toothpaste for several more brushes! That’s beyond my squeezing the tube with the use of a straight edge to push out the very last bit. I won’t be cutting up the tube. And…

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#abundance #Air1 Christian Radio #blog #christian #economize #financial status #health and wellness #How Rich I am #inspiration #John W Peterson #poverty mentality #Psalm 23:1 #Savers #talking scale #the lord is my shepherd #thrift shopping

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

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More of You, Pt. 1

Direct continuation from the fic Wildflower! I'd recommend reading it first before this one (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

Part 2

One month since Ghost got deployed, one month since their 'date' got postponed, until Laswell called Jade to tell her that he'd gone missing in action.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC)

Word Count : ~ 7.8k words (I overdid it but idc lmao)

Warning : some angst with flufff don't worry, some whump, light gore, hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Prompt : There's only one bed oop

Title and story inspired by the song with the same title by JP Saxe!

*****

“Ghost, give me a sitrep now!”

“Watcher-1, things are not lookin’ good-- They found me.”

“We cannot get you an exfil in that area. You need to lose them first. Get out of there right now!”

“My ammo’s runnin’ out… I can’t lose them—”

“Ghost, do you copy?!

“Ghost!”

---

It's been two months since Simon told her that he's going out of the country to go on a mission. It's honestly crazy how much she missed him already, considering the fact that they were not even a couple yet. Jade couldn't even fathom how much his presence, or at least his mere existence in the same country, meant to her. Two months felt so long. Too long.

No one to call her names, no one to ask her to go explore London culinaries, no one to go thrifting with (for Ghost's lack of variety of wardrobe), no one to have a drink while stargazing.

And no one to hug.

Well, not that she ever hugged him for more than 2 seconds anyway. Ghost was certainly not a hugger. The only times they hug were after each… 'date', they'd come in contact for a short hug, before Ghost took off.

He must've hated hugs.

Jade sighed, resting her chin on her palm at the Le Jardin floristry counter.

It was a slow day. There were a few pre-orders, but there weren't even 15 clients that came in. One hour until the shop closes, and Jade was the only person at the shop. Her employees had left, while her parents were on a trip to Asia. Honestly, it miffed her, because now her mind was full of Ghost and Ghost only.

Where is he?, she wondered.

The ringtone of her phone snapped her out of her thoughts. Jade reached for her phone on the counter, and Laswell's name was written on the screen. She raised her eyebrow at the sight, thinking of what else the CIA agent had in store for her after Jade clearly told her that she was retired.

Rolling her eyes, Jade tapped the green button and put the phone on her ear, "Kate, you can't just call me whenever you run out of people to send out–"

"Ghost is MIA."

Not even a second later, her legs brought her to the front door before she flipped the tag from 'Open' to 'Closed'. "For how long?"

"Yesterday." Laswell's calm voice continued on the phone, "Ghost going dark is not an uncommon occurrence. He's used to it, and all this time he always comes back, but the situation was awry."

"What happened before he went MIA?" Jade switched the light off, climbed the stairs to reach her room and quickly opened her drawer to change into 'proper' clothes.

"We had an intel about a hidden drug stash in South America. There was a suspicion that it might be related to the Las Almas drug cartel. After months of tracking, Ghost then found a hidden facility. He went to investigate, but it appeared that his position was compromised, and the last thing we know, he was being chased by the Narcos before the radio cut off." The CIA agent explained, her tone was stable, yet there was a tinge of guilt in them. "I fear he might be in a dangerous situation, or worse."

Zipping up her turtleneck, Jade then walked to her father's study, obtaining the key to open the discreet stash of weapons behind the shelves.

"Price and Gaz are with Farah in Urzikstan, while Soap is halfway around the globe on another mission."

She took her plate carrier, her karambit knives and their holsters, plus her firearms along with the ammo.

“I apologize to you, Jade. I truly do. But you're our best tracker, and I know what he means to you, so I notified you first.”

Putting all the necessary pieces of equipment into a duffle bag, Jade then lifted the bag downstairs, moving fast to the backdoor and made her way to her sedan, sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Your wheels are up in 3 hours and I'll brief you more on the way. Are you up for this?”

“Brief me now.”

-----

The facility was deep in the middle of a rainforest. Made of cement, hidden by the tall trees of South America, it was a well-hidden building, obviously far out of the public eye.

Hiding behind the tall bushes and her steps covered by the pouring rain, it was relatively easy for her to take a tour around the building to scout the area. Jade could at least count 12 armed guards outside, guarding the many sides of the building. They rotate the place constantly every hour, occasionally talking into their radio for reports.

Twelve was a ton of people for the building’s size, almost too much. They were in the middle of a rainforest and far from any city. The only reason they need this much guard out would be a whole pack of hungry jaguars.

However, judging by the number of Narcos' dead bodies that Jade had encountered in the mud along the way, the reason for the many guards was definitely not big cats.

Ghost.

He must’ve stealthily killed his way in, and somehow he got noticed by a guard, and they started to hunt him down with guns blazing.

Jade swallowed. The only thing she was relieved about was the fact that none of those lifeless bodies was Ghost’s. It had been 4 days since Laswell lost contact with him. Ghost being captured had the highest possibility at this point, as the guards might not be placed to guard against who’s outside.

But to contain who’s inside.

"Watcher-1 this is Sierra-4, twelve armed guards on the exterior. I'm thinking of infiltrating them from the south side of the building." Jade spoke with a low voice to her PTT, preparing herself to go in, picturing every single step of her feet towards the building, every motion of her limbs to reach the point of entrance.

"Copy that, Sierra-4, you may proceed. Keep updating me on the situation."

Just after Laswell’s confirmation, sounds of gunshots rang from inside the building. That shocked and confused Jade as she lowered her scope which she had used to scout the area. All the guards turned around to face the building as more shots were fired from the inside. She could hear their loud chatters and shoutings through their radios, panic was written all over their faces as most of them ran inside to check the situation.

Jade couldn’t quite hear what the guards were talking about as their voices were muffled by the rain, but one thing she could clearly hear in Spanish was,

‘The prisoner escaped!’

Ghost was fighting his way out.

"Watcher-1, I hear gunshots from the inside. I suspect it's Ghost." Jade spoke with urgency in her voice.

"Copy that, Sierra-4. It's your move. You need to go in and help him." Laswell replied.

"Way ahead of ya."

"Good luck."

She scoffed, half-afraid and half-amused, taking aim with her rifle again as the guards were lowered to five. It was equipped with a suppressor, and taking out the dumbfounded guards outside was an easy fit. Their heads exploded upon impact with her bullets before collapsing to the ground, leaving the exterior unguarded. It was finally time for her to get inside.

To finally see him.

'See you tomorrow, Lottie.'

Ghost had said before he softly kissed her on her cheek, promising to ice skate and eat Korean barbecue with her on the 15th of February, only for her to be left disappointed when she received a text from him the next morning that he’ll be going on a mission. This mission.

Jade gritted her teeth at the memory, "I'm going in."

Rushing forward to the entrance of the building, She used her feet to silently press herself to the cement walls, the sound of gunshots was still going, albeit muffled. It’s like the sounds were coming from below.

Basement.

Loading her HK416, Jade infiltrated the area. She perceived at least four armed people in the main room, all looking towards one particular hallway while muttering nervously in Spanish, which she immediately suspected was the way to where Ghost was. Throwing a stun grenade inside, five bodies quickly fell to the ground from her shots.

Suddenly, another group of armed narcos came out of another room from the northern side, opening fire towards Jade while she was reloading. A bullet went past her shoulder, the sound of it ripping the air around it left a ringing sound on her ear. She could do nothing but quickly hide herself from the incoming rain of bullets behind a wall. The narcos emptied their mags like their fingers were glued to the trigger. It seemed like they were not properly trained.

When they were reloading, Jade took another flashbang and threw the can to the middle of the group. Quickly canting her aim, her rifle couldn't pick a better time to be jammed, prompting her to curse and switch to the pistol on her hips on the right and picked up her karambit blade with her left.

While the guards were stunned, it became muscle memory from there. Taking out three front-most people with the gun, using another as a shield from the incoming aimless fire, slitting the throat, and then another Narco in the face with the butt of the gun before forcing her blade up to the under jaw.

Having cleared the main room, Jade huffed, quickly fixing the jammed rifle, and proceeded by silently going even further into the building.

There was a long hallway with a number of doors along them. Jade smacked one door open, only to see white-coloured blocks of drugs on a table, and judging from the colour, cocaine must be the identity of the drug. She checked each and every one of the doors and found the same things. This building was a drug warehouse; a place where the drugs were stored before their export or distribution for sale. At first, she couldn’t discern for sure if this facility was indeed owned by the Las Almas drug cartel, but when she looked upon the notable stamp of El Sin Nombre’s skull, her doubt vanished.

Jade then moved further into the hallway and reached an intersection, where another set of gunshots and screams found her ears. Her legs brought her closer to the noise, finding a stairway downwards to the basement area. She quickly descended the stairs, finding herself surrounded by a dirty, poorly dug tunnel. Nevertheless, the ex-MI6 focused on her objective and ran to the source of the sound, when she finally reached the source of all the ruckus.

She turned from a corner with her aim up on an intersection, finding Ghost with his mask on, fighting four men at once, below them were the bodies of Narcos that he had killed prior. With a knife in one hand and his own pistol in the other, he stabbed a Narco in the neck and used his body as a shield from the incoming bullets. He then threw the knife straight at his assaulter’s face as Jade saw the other two taking aim at him. Upon reflex, Jade shot down the remaining Narcos, leaving Ghost the one standing alone in the tunnel seemingly dumbfounded at what just happened right in front of him.

With relief washing over her, Jade rushed towards Ghost, finding him still standing, still fighting, still alive. “Ghost!”

Only to be welcomed by the barrel of his gun aiming straight at her.

Before Ghost could pull his trigger, Jade’s reflex kicked in and defeated her own sadness and sorrow of not seeing him for more than two months, and leapt to his side, grabbing the barrel of the firearm away from her. She then used her speed and abundance of energy to kick his ankle strong enough to push Ghost off his balance. He fell down to the ground with a loud thud on his back. Jade kicked the pistol out of his hand, before putting her whole weight to press on his entire figure.

Still, Ghost was known for his superior combat ability and survival instinct. His hand found another knife on his hip holster, ready to stab the person who was holding him down.

“Simon!”

The sound of his first name stopped his knife on its track, stopping right beside her neck – a few mere inches before blood could’ve been spilt. And just after he heard his name, he felt a soft touch on his uninjured cheek.

Jade had opened his mask, revealing his face in the open. With how skilled and lethal Ghost was as an operator, she never thought she’d ever see Ghost in this state. His left cheek and eye were swollen, and there were traces of blood running down his temple. Even though black in colour, his clothes had darker spots where only blood could stain them. He had his plate carrier and his knife holsters on, but they too were stained with blood.

And his eyes, it was filled with rampage, pure anger and wild want for blood. Yet it was unfocused, like a blind beast ready to get rid of anyone standing in his way.

Imprisonment. Torture.

“It’s me. It’s me. I’m here for you. You’re okay.” He blinked a number of times, and the red fog that had been clouding his vision disappeared, finding the face of the woman he loved right above him.

“You’re okay now. I’m here. Please, it’s over, Simon.” Her shaky voice continued, desperation filling her tone. Her green eyes were already brimming with tears threatening to fall down. “It’s over.” She breathed, hoping that somehow, her voice could bring him back.

“...Midget?”

Hearing her nickname in his deep, hoarse voice was all the sign she needed. Ghost lowered his knife, and before he knew it, Jade dropped down to hug Ghost tightly, burying her face in his shoulders. She sobbed into the side of her neck, grasping his clothes with her fingers in relief. Finally, finally, he’s back in her arms. After days of anxious and dark thoughts about losing the only man she’s ever allowed herself to love, he’s finally here, in her arms.

However, that relief was short-lived as Ghost grabbed her shoulders and lifted her smaller figure away from him. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN’ HERE?!”

That response startled her, “WH– I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU, YOU BIG BOZO!”

“YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE!”

Jade then wrestled her way out of Ghost’s weak hands, “YOU WENT MIA FOR DAYS!”

“FUCKIN’ HELL–” Trying to sit up abruptly turned out to be a big mistake as a sharp pain burst out from his side, making him grunt out loud. Noticing this, Jade held him up before he fell back down to the floor. She then glanced to his side, and there, she caught sight of a fresh graze wound on his side. Observing him further, she found a crudely tied, blood-stained bandage wrapped around his right shoulder. Judging by the sight of it, this might be the lucky shot that had subdued Ghost and made the Narcos manage to capture him.

Nevertheless, they needed to get out of this building before reinforcements arrived. Seeing the condition he was in, he'll need some assistance to even stand now. fighting off the reinforcement would be impossible. “This warehouse – where’s the supervisor?”

“I gutted him.” He growled, hatred filling his voice. She could easily deduce that the supervisor was the one who had been inflicting these wounds to him.

And so, she used all her strength to lift and help Ghost stand up. "Can you walk?"

"I can–" he stumbled to the wall, using his pained arms to support himself up. "Fuck…" It had been four days since he went MIA. That meant four days of badly treated wounds, blood spilling from the tortures, and no food. Still, he managed to escape and fight his way out, leaving dead bodies as his footsteps.

Such mental fortitude was something to be feared indeed.

"Alright, come 'ere, Big Man." Jade sneaked her hand behind his back and circled his arm around her shoulder before assisting him to quickly walk out of the damned warehouse. To hell with these drugs and the people inside.

"Watcher-1, this is Sierra-4.” Pressing the PTT, Jade contacted the CIA. “I've secured Bravo 0-7. I repeat, Bravo 0-7 is secured."

—------

Prior to arriving at the warehouse, Jade had located a rickety old cabin inside the forest. It was placed near a river far away from the warehouse. Though it’s not fully hidden, it worked well as a resting place for the night as it was pretty deep inside the forest, and of course, because there’s no way that the man that she was currently holding up could walk all the way to the nearby city.

Stepping into the wooden floors of the cabin, Jade glanced to the side where she found a single bed placed on the edge of the room. “There’s a bed there. Let’s get you down.” Straining her voice from holding Ghost’s weight for the entire 30-minute walk there, she finally sat Ghost down on the bed before he collapsed to his back, panting heavily and clearly out of fuel.

“Fuck… I’m beat.” He managed to breathe out with his sore voice.

“Here, drink some water. Drink all of it since we have a river in front.” Jade gave her own canteen to him, to which he chugged down to the last drop while still lying down.

In the meantime, Jade tinkered with her radio, pressing down on her PTT to contact Laswell.

“Watcher-1 this is Sierra-4 do you copy?”

Not long, the radio buzzed, “Sierra-4 this is Watcher-1, send traffic.”

“We’re currently holed up in an old cabin near a river about four clicks northwest of the warehouse. His radio was destroyed by a bullet, so that might be why his comms suddenly disappeared.”

A loud sigh of relief could be heard on the radio, “That’s great news. How is he looking?”

She took a glance at Ghost, who was still laying back while covering his eyes with the back of his hand. “Beat. But alive. Very lean. Injuries and wounds all over. He’d worn his mask when I found him, but…” A thought had been weighing on her mind the whole way they walked to the cabin. “If he got captured, then the first thing the Narcos did was obviously to take off his mask. Is his identity compromised now?”

“No. It’s still the same as ever. Even if they saw his face - as long as Ghost didn’t give out his name - there’s no record of his face anywhere. Every earlier visual identity had also been redacted.” Jade raised her eyebrows. So that’s how he maintained his anonymity all this time.

“That sounds like him. Anyway, we’re pretty deep in the woods. Sun’s going down, and the nearest town is around 15 kilos from here. I think we need to lay low for a while.”

“Copy that. I’ll see what I can do for your exfil, I’ll be in touch. You guys should rest for a while.” Laswell finally said, a tone of calm in her voice. “And thank you so much, Jade. I’m sorry for dragging you back again.”

Jade could only scoff at that. “It’s fine. Besides, if you’d sent out anyone else to find him… I’d be a wee~ bit offended.”

“Oh? Is this what I think it is?” She could clearly hear the wide smile on the CIA agent’s face.

“I’m gonna go patch the big man up now. Sierra-4 out.” Finally finishing her report with Laswell’s chuckle as the last thing she heard, Jade sighed, watching the strong and steady flow of the river below. It was freezing, but at least they had shelter. Now all she needed to do was keep Ghost alive and comfortable while keeping tabs with Laswell.

—

"Lottie, why are you here."

Ghost’s strained voice pulled Jade’s attention from the wound that she was currently treating on his shoulder. That crudely-tied bandage was not replaced at all after his capture and left a terrible-looking injury, which by the look of it, was obviously infected that when she’d pulled it, the skin that already tried to heal got pulled along with it.

"What? I thought I said to you already. Your radio cut off abruptly, so Laswell sent me out to find you." Jade answered, still dabbing cotton onto the lacerated skin caused by the bullet.

"Fuckin' hell…"

That tone irked her. "You sound like you don't want me here."

"That's right! I do NOT want you here!" Ghost yelled to her, making her lean back on the chair she was sitting on and stopped what she was doing. His angered face was a new sight for her.

"What?! Are you telling me to just stay back while I know you were captured?!"

“Laswell knew for a fact that this was not my first time going MIA. She did not have to tell you about it because as you could see, I got out on my own.” He told her harshly, that tone starting to aggravate her.

“You were missing! Can’t you see that I was worried for you?!” Jade countered, trying to keep her composure while he palmed his face in visible frustration, “More than two months you’ve been gone for a mission alone, and now that I finally have news about you, I was told that your radio cut off with gunshots!”

“You should’ve just stayed home and get on with your days. I never asked for you to come here.” Gravely he told her as he saw Jade’s eyes start to turn sombre. Those words came out of his mouth on their own.

Deep inside, Ghost knew what was coming – He needed to stop himself.

“I found you battered and bruised, Simon! You can’t just expect me to–”

"I don't need you to save me!” He raised his voice harshly, shocking her.

No. That was not what he wanted to say.

He knew; he truly knew it was the opposite.

He didn't want her to get hurt.

"I don't need you!”

Her face was everything he needed to know that he fucked up. Ghost saw her face turn to dread like her heart just got stabbed a thousand times over, that after everything she did, after everything she felt – it was only for him to tell her those words.

For a moment the only thing they heard was the pouring rain outside.

Before Ghost saw the woman in front of him grit her teeth, seeming like she chose to not believe what he just said.

“There were at least a dozen armed guards outside! What did you think you could do with those wounds?!" It was her turn to raise her voice, “If I hadn't been there to find you, what could you do with a gun an a knife?!"

It was the last thing that snapped him. Ghost ignored all the pain in his arms to grab onto her shoulders,

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU!”

And just like that, Jade gasped as she blinked. His grasp on her shoulder felt firm yet shaky, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of the searing pain or from the emotion he felt, as this is the first time she saw Ghost with that expression. Maskless, bruises all over, bloodshot eyes brimming with tears, and a face that had desperation and sorrow painted all over it.

He started with a low voice, but the emotions in his words still remained, “You’ve left this life for a reason, Lottie. And for a good one. Think of your mother, your father, your friends, who love you and care for you! What if you get hurt alone inside this fucking rainforest?! What if you die, huh?! What do I say to your parents?!"

"What if you die?!" Jade countered, trying to make sense of his words.

"I don't fucking care if I die!"

"You say that as if no one is waiting for you to come home! I DO!” Jade grabbed both of his hands from her shoulders, gathering them with her own. ”I love you!"

Her action surprised Ghost, but more than anything, the last three words felt like an epiphany.

"You think Kate should've just shut up about it and left me in the dark?! Well, that's just fucking stupid, Ghost. If you think that you did this for me, then you're wrong!” She shouted bitterly, her scowl taking over her face in such a way that it looked out of place, tears already brimming in her eyes.

"You think I didn't know that your missions are dangerous? I know that! That's why I can't just stand back while I know I have the full capability to find you! If it means that I can finally have you back, then to hell with my retirement! Great, now I'm crying!" All that stress and frustration of finding him these last four days came out of her in the form of tears streaming down her cheek. The thought of finding him beaten up, all bloody, or even worse, lifeless on the ground had been eating her mind. Nevertheless, she moved her body to find him, clinging to a desperate hope that he was still alive somehow.

Ghost could only watch as Jade buried her face in her palms, her sobs muffled by her hands. "We had a date, Simon…" That sentence felt like a thousand knives impaling his heart. He remembered being very excited that early morning, anticipating the ‘date’ with her. He remembered himself being so happy and delighted for the date, heck, he even fucking looked through his wardrobe to find the best fit for the occassion, only to be left feeling empty when he suddenly got a call to go on a mission. He could still recall how shaky his hands were when texting Jade that he couldn’t make it for the date.

"I was waiting for it. It's my first date, ever. So I'm sorry if I'm a little excited to see you, alright?" Jade raised her head to face him again, revealing her messy hair, red eyes, and cheeks smeared by tears. “I can’t lose you too."

Ghost didn't know if it was because of his courage or something else, but he moved his hand and put it right above hers, gently enveloping her hands. "I don't want you to get hurt, especially because of me." He started, looking softly into her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Hearing that broke something in him, as for once in his life, someone waited for him to come home. Someone wanted him to be fine, and it felt… foreign.

Now, that person was sitting before him. The woman he loved, and the one who loved him back, more than he deserved.

The fact that Ghost initiated the touch made butterflies fly wildly inside her stomach. The temperature of his skin was quite alarming though, so she kept that in mind. "Well thank you, for your consideration, but please,” Jade lifted her arm to wipe her face from the tears aggressively, sniffing her nose. “I can't have you just promise me a date one day and then disappear the next. I won't let you ghost me." Her lips pouted in a way that made him chuckle. He might go crazy if she kept doing this. "If it means finding you, then getting hurt is nothing. If you went MIA again, then I will go out and find you again."

Ghost still felt the pain all over his body, that argument took all the spare energy that he got. Meanwhile, Jade took the sewing kit from the side table, getting them ready to close Ghost's laceration.

"Also, put some credit on my name, alright? You know I can take care of myself, Ghost." Jade muttered while taking the forceps.

"I almost stabbed you though." He replied.

"Ah." That only occurred to her now. When he was fighting off the Narcos, he thought she was an enemy and launched a knife straight to her neck. "You were in full survival mode since the whole warehouse was trying to kill you. I understand."

"Shit… what would I say to your parents if I'd killed you?"

"Hmmm. 'Sorry, Sir, Ma'am. I killed your daughter by accident.’, and then your body would never be seen ever again, perhaps."

That got a light laugh out of him, "We're a crazy lot aren't we?"

"Damn right we are."

There was barely any alcohol to hold the pain as Jade sutured his wounds close, and even though she had mastered the medical suturing techniques, the searing pain was going to be there to stay.

All the while her hands work, she started again, "What did they do to you?"

Ghost flinched at the question. She really hoped it wasn't something too bad. From her observations, he was badly injured on the left side, which meant he must've been punched and kicked quite a lot by the Narcos. The right side had way fewer injuries, but the little lacerations on his head looked like something sharp.

He took a deep breath, "After they caught me, I was brought to the basement and they tied my hands on my back to a pole with a rope. My feet as well. They interrogated me about who I am and my ties with Alejandro Vargas. Of course I shut my mouth the entire time."

Jade still looked at him, sending him a signal that it was not was she was asking about. Ghost sighed, before answering again, "It wasn't much, just punches and kicks, splashed water on me. The leader was a huge twat though. He smashed a bottle of alcohol on my head." Ah. There's the answer to her questions.

"And I'm assuming you used the shards to cut the ropes to escape?" She inquired, her hands still working.

"Yeah."

"...You okay?"

He always hated the question, but coming from her, it felt different. Ghost knew how she had experienced the same things before considering they work on similar grounds. And if he wanted to be honest on the answer, she won't get much. "I'm mostly annoyed at their leader the whole time. Just thinking of how to get out of there." Ghost finally answered, "I've experienced far worse. If anything, they lacked creativity."

Jade sighed, not the worst answer. Either he was hiding the mental trauma or he's just that dulled to tortures. From the outside he looked fine and he acted like this was just another business day, but she could never guess what's going on inside his mind.

That last sentence made her chuckle though. "What do you think they should've done to make you speak?"

Ghost looked like he really considered it, "...To make me speak? No idea. Probably your favourite method."

"My method?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Nail-pulling."

"I--" Oh good heavens, he'd set 'nail-pulling' as her favoured method of tortures. "Okay, if and only if you have the right tools, alright."

He let out a chuckle, prompting her to laugh as well as she finished the suture on his wounds.

—---

Cleaning up Ghost's injuries was relatively easy, as he didn't have any lethal wounds that required urgent care and deep medical knowledge. Still, watching him hiss and grunt as she sewed his lacerations was hard to do. She kept mumbling soft "Sorry, sorry." to him in a vain attempt to soothe his pain. At some point, it appeared that Ghost was completely out of fuel and dozed off sitting up while she was cleaning his skin from the blood and dirt. Closing his wounds was only the first step of first-aid care because what came after could be harder to treat since he had that infected wound on his shoulder.

He hadn't eaten in days, was completely out of energy, had a significant blood loss, bruises all over his body, and that infected wound had finally shown its damned effect: fever.

Jade sighed. As much as he needed the rest, he needed to eat. She'd brought some antibiotic meds, but in order to have them he had to eat first. Her legs brought her to the cabinet near the end of the bed, fortunately finding a good clean sheet of the blanket. Though, it wasn't thick enough for her liking, plus it was pretty small in size and would barely cover his large frame. Beggars can’t be choosers, so she draped the cloth onto his shoulders and his legs, making sure his figure was covered.

Opening her backpack, Jade fished out two sets of MREs, along with a ration heater. With his wounds finally dressed up and he's sleeping soundly, she walked out of the cabin to the riverside, filling her canteen with fresh river water. Pouring the water into the ration heater along with the MREs inside, Jade walked back to the doorway to avoid the rain, waiting patiently as she wiped the rainwater off of her skin.

While she was letting the heating pack do its job, she sat back on the wooden floor, slowly untying her braids that had gone messy from the actions and the rain. Fully getting the braids undone, her hair finally became loose completely, falling on her shoulders, back, and chest in the most chaotic way possible that Jade had to run her hands through her thick hair to detangle the mess.

"Lottie?"

Ghost's weak voice startled her, making her turn around and saw the man himself standing right behind her, blanket around his shoulders. “Ghost?! What– you should’ve just slept! You can’t stand just yet–”

“Relax,” He said softly, sitting down beside her with visible struggle. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I won’t die from moving 10 steps.”

Seeing how he coughed wetly made her pout in disagreement. She still thought he needed to stay in bed. “How are you feeling though?”

"...like death.”

“I thought so. Your temp was concerning. May I touch your forehead? I have to feel your temp." Ghost nodded, still, her soft touch on his forehead and neck caught him off guard, as she stared at him trying to concentrate on measuring the heat of his skin. “You’re burning up! Dammit.” Jade exclaimed upon feeling the rise of his fever, it baffled her how he still had the energy to stand up with all those wounds.

Out of nowhere, Ghost felt pressure on his chest, before realizing that it was Jade pressing her ears to his thorax.

He froze right there and there, turning into stone like Medusa just stared him down. Ghost sucked his teeth and looked up to hold in his blush. He knew a hundred per cent that she was checking his breathing for that terrible wet cough he let out, but his brain had turned into a mush, his heart beating so fast like he just ran a fucking marathon. She definitely could hear his racing heartbeat, but no matter how much he tried to tell his heart to stop fucking beating like there's a whole damned carnival inside his chest, it was proven futile.

“Take a deep breath.” Her voice was the only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts, doing what she told him to do.

After hearing the air going in and out of his lungs a number of times, Jade finally leaned back again. “Yup. I’m no medic, but I can hear pneumonia coming when I hear one. You need to go back to bed.” She stood up and tried to pull him up, which was to no avail as he was still dumbfounded on the event that just happened. "The sun's setting down and the rain won't stop anytime soon. It'll get colder than this."

“I just got here–”’

“Back. To. Bed.”

Has she always been this demanding? He never liked being told what to do when it's not from someone of higher rank, but he could surely get used to this one. Ghost couldn't help the small smile on the corner of his lips as he stood up, walking towards the hard bed slowly before sitting down again. She gathered the steaming rations on her hands and sat back on the chair, his heart swole in a way he never thought it could.

"I brought chicken sausage and… pasta bolognese. You can choose whatever and I'll take the other one." Jade said, opening the lids to let the heat out while waiting for Ghost's answer, but when he didn't say anything, only gazing at the foods, a thought clicked in her mind. "Or or or, you can have both of them, if you want. I'm sure you're starving."

"...What about you?" Yep, she guessed right. He wanted both of them. Big man needed a big meal.

"Don't worry about me. You haven't eaten in days. I already had mine before coming to the facility, so I'm good, I promise."

A gulp, "Can I have both?"

"Sure."

----------

He’s back under that suffocating, smothering coffin under the ground. Trapped alone in the dark, he felt his heart beat racing, pounding against his chest that he could hear it on his ears.

He couldn’t breathe.

He’s afraid.

Ghost tried to bang his fist against the roof, but it wouldn’t budge. Even until his arms were bruised, until blood came out, he felt that the earth would swallow him whole any second, before Ghost felt the wooden base of the coffin disappear into dust, which made his body fall into a deep, bottomless void, getting farther and farther from the coffin.

Just as he thought that he’d forever fall without end, his back hit the ground with a great force, waking him up from his nightmare. Ghost opened his eyes with a jolt of his entire body, breathing fast and laboured as if he’d just gained back his ability to take air in.

"Hey."

The familiar voice called to him, prompting the man to focus his blurred vision, finding Jade. He’s finally awake enough to register that this is no longer inside the coffin where he was buried alive, but inside a wooden cabin deep in a rainforest. The rain still falling outside, the sun long gone, only the moon to accompany them. His surroundings were dark, save for the soft yellow lighting from a portable bonfire on the bedside table. Ghost was laying on his side facing her, nothing to support his head from the absence of pillows.

He then saw that his hand was grabbing Jade’s wrist in a death grip, almost shaking. She looked like she was startled by the sudden grip of her wrist when she'd just been wiping the sweat off his face with a handkerchief, but she didn’t show any sign of panic or daze, just calmness inside her eyes. "Nightmare?"

Ghost released his grip and answered with an alarming wet cough, his breathing starting to sound difficult, before weakly muttering, "Why aren't you asleep?"

"You can have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor–" He tried to wake up before being pushed down back to the bed on his side.

"Your fever got worse, you were sweating, and shivering as well. That infected wound on your shoulder added to the problem." Ghost might not be in his best condition, but he could hear her worry as clear as day.

She looked messy with the very long red locks of hers undone, contrasting with her usual tidy and orderly appearance. And to be frank, she’d had that worried tone since the second she found him in the warehouse, since she heard that he was missing, and probably since the day he texted her that he’d had to go on a mission.

"That is total nonsense! I'm not the one who's beaten up right now!” The logic must have left him because of the fever. Did he really want to sleep on the hard wooden floor with those bruises all over his body?!

The usual Ghost would retort some sarcasm towards her, but all he did right now was to stare at her. Jade would've thought that he's completely out of it from the illness, until he mumbled,

"...You should let your hair down more often."

"...wHaT?” her voice cracked at his words. Why was he talking about her hair all of a sudden?

A light cough, “I said you should let your hair down more.”

“Wh– Why?" She chuckled, half amused and half confused. "Look at them. My hair's a mess if I let it down. It's really hard to take care of, especially in the wind. Let it touch the rain, and air drying it is basically a recipe for disaster." The ginger said while rubbing her heavily tangled hair. She had intended to brush them when Ghost was asleep earlier, but she must admit that she didn’t have the energy to do it. Days of tracking and helping him had taken more of her than she’d expected.

"That's precisely why." Ghost started, still eyeing her face softly.

"...What do you mean?"

"Beautiful.” He confessed, "You're beautiful when your hair's a mess, so let it down."

A pause as he tried to rack up an answer in his jumbled brain. "It's not sudden. I've always liked it."

The sentence baffled, perplexed, and shocked her. Why did he say that? Why was he doing this?? What kind of dream or nightmare did he have?? Jade’s jaw dropped to the floor, her face turned almost as red as her hair because of that particular sentence. Ghost had never been one for talking, let alone compliments. That was the normal, healthy Ghost, then. So if he's on the opposite condition…

"I– What's with the sudden flattery??"

No one ever complimented her hair. Since she was a baby, a child, a kid in the orphanage, she kept being skipped by potential parents because of her striking red hair.

Jade recalled how she would see a couple shake their heads as they whispered among each other, quickly looking at the other orphans. Her brothers and sisters come in and go to their new parents, while she stayed. And for that reason, she grew to dislike – hate her hair, only until recently did she ever see a good in them.

And now, this man just admitted that he had always liked her hair since the day he met her, albeit… in a feverish, delirious state?

"T-thank you for saying that, Simon." Finally finding the courage to react, Jade continued, "but anyway, how are you feeling? Dizzy? Nauseous?"

"...cold." Ghost mumbled.

For sure that thin blanket would be doing anything in the cold rain. There was no more piece of clothing or any blankets left inside the house to use. She had started a little portable bonfire on the bedside table to give the room some form of luminescence as the sun was long gone, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop his shiverings.

Holding his eyes open was already a heavy task for him, but this cold felt like a thousand knives on his skin. He wanted to sleep, God, he wanted to sleep. He’s exhausted, except getting trapped in that coffin and buried alive inside that dream was the last thing he wanted to experience right now. Getting air into his lungs was also a burden to his chest. Even with the painkillers and antibiotic Jade had given him, his wounds hurt all over.

However, this is nothing.

Ghost had experienced this before, far, far worse than this, and he was still alive. He’ll tank through the cold, he could endure any pain.

It’s the same as ever.

Nothing’s different.

Had he ever heard that kind of sentence before?

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Jade softly muttered to him, looking at him not with a look of pity, but of compassion and willingness to help.

"Do you mind a– um… A cuddle?” The woman sitting beside his bed said nervously, prompting him to look at her face. "Shared body temperature. I suppose it's effective in this situation."

He took that back.

It's different now.

“...No.” He replied shortly.

"Really?”

“Yeah.”

“O-okay! The bed’s small, can you face the other way?” She asked, to which he nodded before he used all the energy he had left in his body to lie on his other side. With heavy clumsiness, he finally faced the wooden wall. The light of the moon shone through the window, hitting his face softly. Not long, he felt a dip on the other side of the bed. Jade had climbed on the bed and fixed the thin blanket to cover his figure properly. Ghost could feel her presence on his back, looming behind him. He didn’t know what to do, obviously. He never really shared a bed with anyone in a long time, let alone a woman. It’s almost pathetic.

“Can I… wrap my arm around you?” Jade asked hesitantly to the back of his head. “I–I don’t mean anything weird, just to warm you up! Like I said I love you and all – and I do mean that – but in case you’re not comfortable with me hugging you I will totally understand and—”

“I said I don’t mind it.” Ghost cut her off before she could blabber more.

“Okay… I’ll just. Put my left arm above you. Like this.” Lifting her arm, she then gently put her wrist on his shoulder, just barely beyond his side line. “This okay?”

“...Hm.” She’s pressed to him. She’s affirmatively pressed to his back. Her warmth instantly traveled to his entire figure, pleasantly so.

“Good. That’s really great, yeah. Your shoulder is really high, wow." He couldn’t say anything to that. Is that a compliment? “While we’re at it, lift your head up a little bit.”

Even though it confused him, he did what she told, and an arm sneaked its way past his cheek and placed it firmly there, and before he could ask her what was she trying to do, he got his answer. “I’m your pillow.”

Ghost let out a chuckle at her retort, and to be honest, he didn’t have any strength left to refuse the offer. His neck hurt and his head felt dizzy without a pillow, so he dropped his head right then and there on Jade’s bicep, and what she didn’t expect was the fact that he deliberately scooted back even further, finally clinging to her figure – a relaxed huff leaving him.

And just like that, Jade’s assumption that Ghost didn’t like hugs went down the bloody drain. She had to bite her lips in order to hold in the scream inside her. God, he must’ve felt her racing heartbeat on his back. He sounded like a literal puppy with that last huff. If she has a third arm she would’ve loved to pet his hair.

------

The rain hadn’t stopped since they arrived at the cabin. The cold seeped through the woods, piercing through Jade’s skin as she made Ghost have the blanket. Other than that, the woman couldn’t deny the soreness on her arm as his head was pretty heavy. She didn’t mind it at all though, as long as he was comfortable, a sore arm was nothing compared to what he must be feeling.

It’s been about an hour since she climbed the bed to cuddle with him. Jade could really tell a lot about his condition from this distance. He’s really hot to the touch, his shoulders moved up and down in a quite fast pace. Still, it seemed that the shared body temperature worked as his shivers stopped. Was he already asleep?

Jade moved the hand that was on his shoulder to the front of his face – waving it up and down.

"I'm still up." His deep voice startled her.

Shit. He’s still awake. "S– Sorry. Just checking."

Meanwhile Jade was waiting for him to sleep, Ghost couldn’t even bring himself to sleep, for fuck’s sake. And not because of the nightmare, but because of her presence on his back was all he could think about. He felt relaxed, but not relaxed at the same time. It’s like his entire being felt safe in her arms and presence, yet his mind thought that he didn’t deserve this. Because she had searched for him, she had to leave her home, family, and friends again, and even though Jade had told him that she would always go and find him – and the things he said to her – he still felt like an arse.

"Lottie."

Jade noticed the name, prompting her to blink. "Mm? You okay?"

“Thank you... for saving me. And about what I said,” A brief pause, “I've hurt you. I'm sorry."

She stayed silent, looking at the back of his head. Ghost was always a blunt person, and it wasn't the first hurtful thing that he'd said to her. Calling her a midget was one thing, but saying that he didn't need her?

She knew he was in immense pain and under heavy mental duress from the imprisonment, but if what he said was true…

"Did you mean it? What you said?" Jade finally replied back, questioning him about the words he'd said. She wanted to know if he really mean what he said. She needed to know.

It took a few seconds for Ghost to answer, seeming like he was preparing himself. "No. Quite the opposite."

Hearing those words from him felt like a earning medal, prompting a smile coming from her lips. "Thank you, Simon. For staying alive.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“I forgive you, because..." Jade lightly sighed behind him, "I need you too.''

And he thought he had a cold heart. That one simple sentence coming out from the one person he allowed himself to love after such a long, long time, made his heart - no, his entire being melt right then and there, in her arms.

A mosquito decided to land on Jade’s hand, making her sway the bug away. “Oof, there’s some bugs here.”

"...What's the bugs' favourite band?"

Oh great heavens. A pun at a time like this? "...what is it?"

"Bee Gees."

"Oh that's goooood." She must admit that his timing was immaculate. "You ever watch Bee Movie though?"

"...Only bee I know in movies is Bumblebee in Transformers."

"Yeah well. Suits you I guess. And good for you for being oblivious about the Bee Movie."

"What kind of movie is that?" He asked.

"A movie. About bees suing humans."

"The fuck?"

"Yea yea yea we'll watch it when we get home. Now sleep." Jade chuckled. "Good night, Beanpole."

"Goodnight, Midget."

"I'm right here if you need me."

*****

"I know."

It's finally here!! To be continued in Part 2!

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bettyfrommars · 3 months

Text

I teamed up with @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing to bring you some Stranger Prompts directly from the Twilight Zone.

Choose a prompt from the list, add in your choice of Eddie or Steve, and spin the story however you like! Please mention us so that we can enjoy your creations and tag the fic "strangerprompts".

18+ONLY MDNI

He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.

You mistake him for the man who is supposed to be your blind date, and he decides to go along with it.

You register for a supernatural dating app

You get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. Come to find out, he's from another decade.

A stranger leaves a letter in your mailbox. It says, "we don't know each other, but I need someone in this world to know..."

You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

You find a box buried in the backyard of the place you just moved into and there is something unexpected inside.

You step into a hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink and suddenly find yourself in a different decade.

You both decide to get a tarot reading on a whim, but then the predictions start coming true.

You put an ad in the paper saying you need a date to an event, and he answers it.

You find a man hiding in your house, and he says he's from another dimension.

You find an old diary from the 80's at a thrift shop and take it home with you. You start reading it and a face appears in your dreams.

You're switching stations on your radio when you pick up the signal of someone on a Walkie Talkie. They say they're in trouble and give their location.

You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

It's rush hour and you're stuck in standstill traffic. He is in the vehicle next to you and motions for you to roll your window down.

#strangerprompts #prompts #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #strange prompts #Stranger Things #Stranger Things prompts

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bloatedandalone04 · 9 months

Text

Done Right

➪the one where you and hayden get back to your unfinished business.

Part 2 of Open Invitation,

Warnings: unprotected sex, smut, fluff, swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling

Word Count: 4.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine♡

The houses passed by in a blur, the speed meter seeming to not exist for the entire drive home. The constant ache and strain Hayden felt in his jeans was too much of a distraction for him to care about how fast he was going.

Even the lack of music coming from the radio did absolutely nothing to calm his racing heart. He had turned it off completely in hopes that the silence would keep him focused on driving, but it did the exact opposite. With the car being silent, he was left to remember the way you sounded when you moaned on the phone earlier, and how you whimpered when he went down on you this morning.

He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearing twelve in the morning. Hayden was glad that he had managed to get through the rest of filming and didn’t have to reshoot anything, but he was also frustrated that he wouldn’t get long with you before he had to return to set in about seven hours.

Hayden would be exhausted by the time he was called onto set, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes and relax his body until he brought you to that sweet release he knows you both have been craving all day.

He felt awful when he couldn’t finish what he started and had to leave you before properly waking you up in the way he wanted to. Though, after your teasing phone call earlier, while he was at work, he didn’t feel as bad as before.

It was considered a miracle that he made it home in one piece. Hayden barely had the car turned off before he was making his way up the small path that led to the front porch. He had a hard time concentrating on unlocking the door, and he was both grateful and frustrated that you hadn’t bothered to unlock it for him after he left this morning.

You lived in a good neighborhood, so he wasn’t worried about leaving it unlocked when he left, but he also preferred to know that you were safe at all times when he wasn’t there. Hence why he had made sure to lock it as he left for work this morning, something he was seriously regretting now as he gave the door a harsh shove before it swung open.

As he stumbled into the house, his eyes met yours almost immediately. You were sitting on the stairs, directly in the middle as you watched him struggle to open the door with a teasing smile on your lips.

You slowly stood up as he closed the door behind him, his hand reaching behind him to blindly turn the lock as he kept his eyes on you. “Welcome home,” you say quietly, knowing how quickly he got turned on when you used that tone.

Your words, like you had expected them to, had him groaning quietly as he made his way over to you in three strides. You had stepped down a few of the stairs and was now only a few inches taller than him, making you the perfect height as he finally reached you and lifted his head just slightly to be able to press his lips to yours.

A sigh of relief left him as his hands snaked around your waist and tugged you forward until your chest was pressed against his. “Baby,” he mumbled against your mouth and you refrained from moaning at how desperate he sounded and how good his hands felt on your body.

You were wearing one of your favorite shirts, a black t-shirt that had an image of Luke Skywalker fighting Darth Vader, along with the words ‘I’m Married to Darth Vader’. When you saw it at a local thrift shop, you knew you had to get it. Turns out, it was one of Hayden’s favorite things on you as well, as it was an inside joke between the two of you.

If he was being completely honest, he thought you looked hottest like this when compared to any of the lingerie you own, not that he’d ever compare you in any way. He’s always found your casual outfits unbelievably attractive, but then again, he found you attractive all the time.

You let your hands trail up his body and squeeze his shoulders before reaching up to knock his hat off his head. He had placed it on backwards after leaving the set so he would have easier access to you without the brim being in the way, but he was also more than happy to shred the article if it meant he got to feel your hands tugging on his hair, just like they did this morning.

Your hands, mixed with the hat, had successfully messed up the neat style that his character had, and Hayden groaned against your mouth. “I missed you,” he mumbled against your lips and felt you grin. “So much.”

“Not nearly as much as I missed you,”

He groaned again when he lifted the shirt you wore up a bit so he could feel your soft skin. “I find that hard to believe,”

You hummed, tugging at the chain he wore underneath his shirt until it snapped open. You pulled the chain free and slid off his wedding band, lifting his left hand and slipping it back on his finger. Hayden always kept his ring on him when he was filming, whether that be on a chain under his shirt or in his pocket.

It felt wrong to take it off, let alone keep it at home when he was away filming.

“I wonder what I will find that’s hard,” you tease and trial a hand back down his chest, pausing just above his jeans. Your thumb runs along the zipper, and you feel him involuntarily buck into your hand.

Hayden groans as you slip your hand into his jeans and tease your fingers along him. “You and I both know what you will find,” he mutters and you grin, pulling your face away from his.

“I could always get you all worked up then leave before you get to come,” you shrugged and pulled away from him entirely, turning and quickly making your way up the stairs.

Hayden was left to stand there in shock as he watched you enter the bedroom. It only took him three seconds before he was bolting after you, nearly tripping on the last step as he went.

He enters the room and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he meets your eyes. You were propped up on your elbows on the bed, one leg bent at the knee and making your shin cover your most private part from his view.

You tilt your head and a smirk forms on your lips when his jaw clenched as he watches you lean further back. The stretch causes your shirt to rise and expose the skin of your stomach, and he was crossing the room within seconds.

His hands wrap around your ankles and he tugs you back down to the edge of the bed with a single pull. His strength caught you off guard, and it turned you on, like it always did.

You bite your lip as he trails his hands up your thighs and pushes your shirt further up, exposing the pink lace that covered your core from him. The same pink lace that you had on in the photo you sent him hours ago.

He groaned loudly as he crawled over you and settled himself between your thighs. His lips press a chaste kiss to yours before moving down to your neck and peppering your skin with open mouthed kisses.

You sigh and turn your head to give him better access, your eyes landing on the clock that showed just how late it was.

12:32 AM.

But Hayden showed no signs of stopping or speeding up, and you knew he was going to take his time with you, his sleep schedule being the last thing on his mind.

This was going to be a long night, you could tell from the way he sucked and kissed the skin of your neck without rushing. He runs his lips over your collar bone and nudges the shirt a bit higher, exposing more and more of your chest to his lust filled eyes.

Suddenly your shirt was off and discarded on the hardwood floor of the bedroom, leaving you only in the scrap of pink fabric that was getting more and more damp as the seconds went on. “You have no idea how difficult it was for me to have to pretend I wasn’t hard on set today,”

His words, the filthy ones they were, had you whining quietly, desperate to hear more while also needing him to speed up the pace.

“I take full credit for that,” you say and bite your lip when his mouth trails down your chest and in between your breasts. His hands grab at the flesh as his lips descend even further, licking and kissing all over the smooth skin of your abdomen.

“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?” He mutters as he hovers his mouth over your core and kneels on the floor. “Just like how you wouldn’t let me forget how I had to leave you this morning after getting you so close to coming.”

Your breath hitches as he presses a kiss to your fabric covered hip, refraining from bucking up and towards his awaiting mouth.

“Getting me all worked up when you knew I felt awful about having to leave early,” he continued, lifting his gaze so he was looking right up at you. “Makes me question if you even deserve to have me pick up where I left off.”

Your eyes widen at that. “What? What do you mean by that?”

Hayden hums as he trails his index finger along the lace trim of your lingerie bottoms. “You tell me,”

His touch was feather light and not enough to satisfy the burning desire you’ve been feeling all day. “No,” you whisper and watch as one corner of his mouth turns upwards. “No, please. I promise I won’t do it again. I’m sorry for teasing you, but I just needed you so badly.”

He sticks his lower lip out in a pout. “I know,” he murmurs and presses a chaste kiss to your covered clit, making you gasp slightly when he continues, “I know, baby. I’m sorry for not getting you off before I left. I wanted to….wanted to taste you for hours.”

Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head at how deep his voice had gotten since he returned home. How he managed to be so effortlessly hot all the time, you had no idea.

“Maybe I’ll let you get away with it this time,” he mumbled and you eagerly lifted your hips when he began to tug the last remaining article of clothing down your legs. It drops to the floor as well, and you didn’t get the chance to wince at the cool air that fanned over your core before he was leaning in and licking a flat stripe up your folds.

“Fuck,” you moaned as soon as you felt his mouth on you.

Hayden wasted no time at all, quickly resuming where he had left off this morning, and wrapped his lips around your clit. Your hips lifted involuntarily as he sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth without working you up to it, your legs already beginning to shake at the overwhelming and sudden jolt of pleasure that shot through your body.

He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, his eyes casting upwards to watch your upper body fall against the bed. With a proud smirk, he leaned further down and devoured your core like he was starving. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wished he got you off this morning. Going down on you was one of his favorite ways to make you come, so the fact that he was so close to doing so but had to stop at the last second was his motivation to get you there again as soon as possible.

“Hayden,” you moaned his name, titling your head further back into the bed. You were so relieved to have the feeling of his mouth back on you after it had been ripped away from you over twelve hours ago.

Like you expected, the way you said his name, in that breathless and needy voice, had him groaning against your core. The vibration had you gasping slightly, your ring-clad hand reaching down to tangle in his dark hair.

“So good,” you whined quietly and spared a look down at him, finding him already looking at you. His blue eyes have darkened considerably in the short amount of time he’s been home, and you were brought back to this morning for a second, when he looked at you in the exact same way he was looking at you right now. “You’re so hot.”

And he really is; still fully dressed in the clothes he threw on this morning in his rush to leave, and going down on you within seconds of returning home.

Hayden laughed against you, making your stomach clench at both the sound and feeling, before he began to fuck his tongue in and out of you.

You were so worked up from before, and you had been turned on for pretty much the entire day, so you really weren’t expecting to last too long at this point.

Usually, Hayden goes slow at first to work you up to your high, then speeds up once you seemed ready for him to do so. He likes to try and prolong this as much as he can, simply because he absolutely loves going down on you and tasting the sweetness that only belonged to you.

Not tonight.

He was determined to get you off as quick as he could, so he can do it again, and then one more time before giving you both a rest and falling asleep.

Hayden glanced up at you and groaned at the sight of your brows furrowed and your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I can’t believe the prettiest woman in the world is my wife,” he had to say.

You let out a surprised laugh and lift your head to look down at him. “You would say something sweet at a time like this,”

He grinned, “I can’t help it,” he hummed, dragging his lips back up your slit and making your whole body shudder. “You’re just so pretty all the time.”

You were briefly brought back to when you and Hayden first got together, and he would compliment you at the most random times. He still did it, but in more appropriate settings, like when you got yourself all dolled up before going out to dinner, or whenever you tried on new lingerie for him, or when you and he found the time to have a lazy day and you’d end up going makeup free.

“When did you become such a flirt?” You find your voice to ask. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Since you decided to call me while I was at work and act all needy,”

His words shut you up again, and he just grinned up at you before leaning back down and sucking your clit into his mouth.

The sudden stimulation had you dropping back down onto the bed and letting out a cry of his name, your hand tugging on his hair as you came unexpectedly.

His tongue shot out to clean up any evidence of your high, the muscle rubbing against your sensitive clit and making you jolt upright. You weren’t used to being overstimulated so quickly after an orgasm, but Hayden wasn’t letting up.

He seemed persistent to prolong the pleasure that coursed through your body, and you had no choice but to lift your hips up against his mouth as you felt another knot forming a mere few seconds later.

Hayden pulled away from your core and crawled back up your body, keeping you stimulated by slipping his right middle and index fingers into you. He braces himself on his forearm next to your head and leans down to press a messy kiss to your mouth.

You moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you. “I missed you so much today,” you nearly whispered against his lips.

His fingers continued to fuck into you at a slow pace, his thumb now beginning to rub soft circles against your swollen clit. “I missed you, too, baby,” he murmured and took pride in the small whimpers you let out against his lips. “I wanted to spend all day in bed with you, just like this.”

You moaned a bit louder at that. “I need you,” you whined as you lifted your hips to grind against his hand.

“I know. I need you, too,” he promised as he began kissing your neck. “But I’m going to get you off with my fingers before giving you the real thing. Gotta make up for lost time.”

You involuntarily clench around his digits, and couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed at the way your walls sucked them in deeper. A few more thrusts of his hand had you coming for the second time, much quicker than the first as you had been continuously stimulated since he stepped foot into the bedroom.

His fingers ride you through your high, before pulling out when he caught sight of the way your legs were shaking. Your core, though relieved to be receiving a bit of a break, clenched around nothing as you watched him slide his fingers into his mouth and clean up every last drop you had spilled on them.

“Fuck,” you huffed out, bringing your hands up to run through your disheveled hair. Hayden laughed as he reached behind him to pull off the black t-shirt he was wearing, keeping eye contact with you as he let the fabric drop to the floor. “Fuck.”

“Is that all you can say right now?” He asked as he popped open the button on his jeans and slowly slid the zipper down.

The teasing tone he was using had you squeezing your thighs shut as you stared up at him. “No,” you muttered, fisting the comforter under you.

“No?” He asked, tugging the jeans down just enough to expose the lining of his black boxer briefs. He kneeled on the bed again, kicking off his converse as he leaned down to press a kiss to your thigh, and then your hip. Within seconds, his arms were tucked under yours as he pulled you further up on the bed, and you gasped quietly as your head hit the pillows. “That’s what it sounds like to me.”

You whimper as he settles his hips against yours and wraps your thighs around his waist. “Please,” you mumble against his mouth when he leaned down to press his lips to yours. “Please, please, fuck me, Hayden.”

He must’ve really gotten you worked up if you’ve turned to begging. It wasn’t often you found yourself begging for him to do anything to you, but you were needy and turned on and craving the feeling of him being buried so deep inside you, his words he said on the phone earlier making you want to keep him in bed with you forever.

“Yeah?” He asked as he tugged at the rough edge of his jeans. “You want me to?”

“Please, I need it,” you moaned as he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You said you’d do anything to be buried inside me earlier on the phone. Does that offer still stand now that you’re back home?”

Hayden muttered something under his breath as he pulled away from you to fumble with his jeans again. “You know it does,”

You turn to look at the clock once more, seeing that it had been nearly an hour since he returned home, and nearly an hour since he’d been so adamant on getting you off in all the ways he could.

“Well, then. What are you waiting for?” You ask as you pull him free from his jeans, leaving them to stay constricted around hips as you wrap your hand around him. You gave him a harsh tug that had him releasing a quiet groan, before leaning up so your lips were next to his ear. “Fuck me like you promised you would.”

And, really, that was all he needed.

Not even a second passed before he was pinning you under him by your wrists and sliding himself into your inviting walls. The both of you let out sounds of relief at the feeling of one another, and you wrap your legs tighter around his hips when he bottoms out.

“Finally,” he groaned once his hips were pressed to yours. Finally back where he belongs. “I missed this.”

It felt like it had been months since he had been inside you, when in reality it had only been a couple of weeks, but he had been so on edge all day that he felt so relieved to have you wrapped around him.

“So good,” he muttered as he gave a sharp thrust of his hips, making a broken moan escape your mouth. “So good, pretty girl.”

You hummed and tipped your head back against the pillows, your hands reaching up to grasp his biceps. “Hayden,” you moaned when he began to slowly thrust into you. “Don’t be gentle with me, I need you, need it hard.”

Like you expected, your words spur him on and his slow thrusts were replaced with sharp and hard fucks.

With how stimulated you already were, and how turned on he had been all day long, it was obvious this wouldn’t last as long as it usually did without the teasing and previous orgasms, but neither of you cared.

His hips hit yours with a brutal force, one that has you squeezing your eyes shut as your nails dig into the skin of his arms. Hayden grunted at the sting from your nails, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure he got from it as well. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered. “Mark me up. Maybe then they’ll understand why I was so pissed off when I got to set this morning after being told I had to leave you.”

You moan loudly at his words, arching your back as your nails dug deeper into his skin and marked him up like he praised you to do. “Fuck, Hayden,”

Since your eyes were still closed, you felt his lips against yours before you were able to see him lean down and kiss you. His teeth knocked against yours every time he slid back into you, your tongues meshing against each other.

Your walls sucked him in deeper, your body desperate to feel every inch of him as he reached down to grip your knee and wrap your leg tighter around his waist.

The slight change in position had him reaching even deeper into you, and his hips stuttered when you clenched around him. The lewd sounds of your heat greedily taking him fueled him to resume the fast pace from before, and he began railing into you in a way that had you crying out against his mouth.

Your lips broke away from his and you instead latched your mouth onto his neck, sucking his skin so hard you knew there would be a pretty dark patch there by the time he was set to leave again in a few hours.

Hayden usually tried to keep his skin and body pretty spotless whenever he was in the middle of filming something, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care about the extra time he’d have to spend in the makeup chair so they could cover up your markings on him. If anything, it only turned him on more, if that was even possible at this point.

It would also further get the point across that this was what he was missing out on when he was called to set, this was what he was robbed of on his so called ‘day off’ with you.

Keeping one hand pinned next to your head, Hayden trailed his other down until his index finger was rubbing quick circles onto your throbbing clit, the poor bundle of nerves beyond spent at this point, but it felt far too good for you to get him to stop now.

“I love you,” he murmured directly into your ear, his voice deep and raspy as he kept your body pinned to his.

You whimpered and clamped down around him as you felt your third orgasm of the night wash over you in waves. Broken moans left your mouth as you held onto him with a death grip, your whole body feeling far too sensitive for you to even function properly.

As you shook slightly, Hayden began to pull out before he could even finish, asking, “Is it too much?”

But you just quickly shook your head and pulled him back against you, fastening your legs around his waist once again until he was situated back inside you. “No. I love you,” you barely managed to say, your body tensing up when he began to slowly rock back into you. “Want you to…inside me, please.”

Unprotected sex was not a new thing in your relationship, in fact, he had only ever used a condom maybe four times in the five years he’s been with you, so your request was not uncommon. It was actually what he usually did, but he thought you needed a break from it all, hence why he was content with getting himself off with his hand after your third time coming because of him.

But, no.

You begged him to finish inside you, and you took him like the perfect wife you are, your throbbing walls begging to be painted white by him.

It all became too much, and within seconds he was coming, just like you had asked him to, with the heel of your foot digging into his lower back until he reached the deepest part of you.

His throaty groans had you writhing underneath him, your arms wrapping around his body when he all but collapsed against you. You ran your hands through his slightly damp hair as he lifted his head to glance at the clock, a quiet groan leaving his lips when he saw what time it was. “I need to be up and ready to leave in less than five hours,”

You grinned and peppered a few kisses along his neck. “But it was worth it, right?” You asked, still breathless from the events that just took place.

Hayden was still buried to the brim inside you as he glanced down to see where the two of you connected. He bit down hard on his lip to stop the groan from tumbling out, before looking back up at your fucked out expression. “You’re always worth it,”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin star wars #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #hayden christensen smut #smut

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speedycoffeedelight · 14 days

Note

Hello! I've returned with more 'Reader helps get everyone a job' scenarios! And this time, not anon ✨️

Also, so happy to see you referenced my first ask, really made my day!

Anyway, scenarios begin.

Reader: Velvette, this is the second job you've been fired from since you got here. There isn't exactly many clothing store in town and if you keep getting fired, you'll be deemed 'unhireable'.

Velvette: *Rolling her eyes on her phone* I don't see why you're so bothered by that, I'm already a small time influencer and with the way I'm manipulating the algorithm, I'll be monetised in no time. Besides, the clothes they sold there weren't even good enough for a dumpster fire.

Reader: Anyway... There's atleast 2 more clothing stores available before we have to start looking elsewhere, a sports clothes store and a thrift shop.

Velvette: Pfft, thrift shop? You can't in your right mind think I'd be touching second han- wait. *Types on her phone* Thifting is in, sign me up! And then call Princess in here, her little lamb form is guaranteed to get me more likes then that bitch Geraldine's yappy mutt in socks and sunglasses.

Reader: Lute, I don't mean to be insulting or anything but I'm not sure if you could handle being a supermarket security guard. It can be a very dangerous job.

Lute: I understand you're concerns but allow me to lay them to rest with a quick demonstration of my capabilities.

*Lute quickly tackles Sir Pentious to the ground and pins him as he shouts a quick 'Why me?!'*

Adam: Listen Babe, I don't see what the issue is.

Reader: Adam, the bar is looking for a live band to there regularly, not a solo guitarist. Now I'm sure you are a wonderful singer-songwriter but they're not looking for a solo musician.

Adam: *Crossing arms* Fine. What other jobs are there.

Reader: Plenty, and almost all of them are places we've already got someone in so they can recommend you and you're pretty much guaranteed to be hired.

Adam: Okay Babe, fire away.

Reader: Well, the local cafés looking for another waiter (Charlies workplace).

Adam: Uh, pass.

Reader: The fast food joint needs another cashier. (Vaggies workplace)

Adam: Next.

Reader: The restaurant-dinner is willing to train up a sous-chef with no prior experience or qualifications (Angels/Husks workplace).

Adam: Eh, I don't cook.

Reader: The council is hiring more trash collectors, it sounds bad but has incredibly good pay (Niftys workplace).

Adam: As much as I'm down for driving a massive truck, somethings telling me to stay away from that little freak. She might stab me in the back or something.

Reader: You also don't have a driving license. Anyway, the radio station is hiring a files clerk (Alastors workplace).

Adam: They play rock or metal?

Alastor: *From another room* Nope!

Adam: Then, nah.

Reader: *Muttering to self* And I don't think you can work for the mechanics without a driving license either (Cherris workplace).

Reader: The florist is hiring. (Lucifers workplace).

Adam: *Fake gags*

Reader: What about working at that bowling alley and arcade pizzeria? (Voxs workplace)

Adam: *Sticks out tongue*

Reader: The clothing store? (Velvettes workplace)

Adam: *Raises eyebrow*

Reader: The local supermarket? (Lutes workplace)

Adam: *Pours slightly*

Reader: *Sighs and starts rubbing temple* Well, the only other places available is the post office and that steakhouse on the outskirts of town.

Adam: Steakhouse? Now that's what I'm talking about! Sign me up straight away.

Reader: I thought you said you don't cook.

Adam: Listen Babe, it's grilling, not cooking. Big difference. Besides, I literally invented the grill, you know? It's like 1 of the top 5 best ideas I ever had, you know, right next to naming a bunch of birds 'tits'.

Reader: You invented the grill? That's actually kinda impressive.

Lucifer: Don't flatter him, love. He had to invent a whole new way of cooking meat or else he'd have starved everytime Eve made him sleep on the coach.

Adam: HEY!

HEYYY!! Good to see you back again!! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Yeah , velvette gonna be a real bitch(HAH-) working at stores. She won't settle for anything that's not up to her taste.

* Reader sighing in the corner trying to find more shops.*

Poor Pentious, he had to be the example 🤣🤣

*the cast and reader giving Pentious concerned glances*

And there's Adam, the first man who can't settle on one job( just like girls- *gets shot in the head*). I can definitely see him inventing grilling like this 😂😂

Thank you yet again for your creative and unique headcannons! I truly enjoy reading them!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #velvette x reader #lute x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie x reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin alastor #hazbin niffty #hazbin hotel husk

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deanwritings · 7 months

Text

The Guest House - Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,375

Your fingers drum along the steering wheel as you navigate the winding backroads, nothing but bare trees and a littering of snow to keep your mind occupied as you hum along to the radio station.

You had exited the highway almost an hour ago, and the longer you drove, the less cars you passed and the more trees appeared.

A part of you was worried you were making a mistake; what if this town ended up being too small? Or what if your rental was a total sham and you got scammed? You could always dispute the charge with the bank, but the embarrassment of being conned and having to admit that to your family would be the worst part. An “I told you so” would definitely be waiting for you from your mother.

But your GPS showed another thirty-five minutes before your arrival, so you figured you might as well check it, hoping to be pleasantly surprised.

This was definitely out of your comfort zone, but you deserved this. A month of no work or responsibilities. Just taking each day as it came and answering to no one but yourself.

This is going to be good for me. You keep reminding yourself.

About twenty minutes later, a few buildings appear in between the trees; houses and some small, specialty shops like a hardware store and a car repair shop. As you drive further in, brick buildings, all connected to each other line your path. You slow down as you begin taking in the shops and restaurants, noticing an antique store and Irish pub first, as well as some art galleries and thrift stores. The town is certainly picturesque, with a charmingly old downtown, the stone sidewalks dotted with trees that are surely full and vibrant in the warmer months, but their bare branches still clinging to string lights from the holidays.

You smile, this was exactly what you were hoping for. Maybe this was going to work out after all.

True to the posting, your GPS announces your arrival about ten minutes later. The driveway is long and unpaved, and your eyes widen as the log cabin that sits proudly to your left comes into view behind the trees. Large, dark logs, perfectly sat on top of one another, leading up to a green, gable roof and thick stone chimney. A large porch adorns the front facade, and you see two empty rocking chairs swaying in the winter wind.

Continue past the main house for another 15 seconds or so, and the guest house is located towards the back of the property. Lisa had messaged you instructions after your booking was confirmed.

As you keep driving, more trees appear, the back of the property not as cleared out as the front. But through the lifeless trees you spot your home for the next month, exactly how it appeared in the posting; gray, wooden siding with two porches; one off the front and another off the bedroom. The same gabled roof graces this home, though shaded red. A small, tin chimney sits perfectly atop, completing the picture you saw online.

Turns out, you didn’t get scammed at all. Maybe it was your Aunt Rose, or a guardian angel, but someone was clearly looking out for you and made sure you were getting exactly what you deserved.

You park on the side of the house, per Lisa’s instructions, and gather up all your bags, not wanting to make more than one trip. You struggle with your suitcase against the gravel, but thankfully it doesn’t take you long before you arrive at the front, all-glass door, allowing you a sneak peek before you even step foot inside.

Key is under the flower pot to the left of the door. And you smile when you find it exactly where it’s meant to be.

You unlock the door and push it open, and despite the purse and backpack you're carrying, your shoulders immediately slump and you take in an easy, deep breath of relief. The house is immaculate; bright, pine plank floors, plaid, comfortable looking couches facing the tv and wood-burning stove. The living room continues into the kitchen, the whole floor plan wide and open. The cabinets match the floors, and the countertops are a forest green granite. The appliances are a bit outdated; the older, white stove and microwave combo that looks very similar to the one you had in college, but that doesn’t bother you. You can see straight back to the only bedroom, the open door and revealing a sliver of the bed for your next month. The house is adorned with floor to ceiling windows, making the atmosphere feel light, even in the dark, winter twilight.

You drag your stuff back to the bedroom, heaving your extra large suitcase up the four steps that lead to the space.

The bedroom is simple; a queen bed with cream comforter, curtains that match the bedding, and two pine nightstands, each with a glass-bottomed lamp.

You drop your suitcase onto the floor and carefully place your purse and backpack on the small ottoman in the corner of the room.

As you turn in the space, you spy the hot tub on the back patio, string lights strung above, and you smile.

After three and half hours in the car, you knew exactly how you were going to start your trip.

The clock on the radio dash illuminates 6:27 as Dean throws his car in park and cuts the engine, exhaustion radiating through his shoulders and down his back as he steps out, the gravel crunching beneath his work boots. He’s looking forward to reheating leftovers, pouring himself a beer, and hitting his bed early tonight.

The shop had been overrun today, and with Benny out sick and Adam on vacation, Dean found himself without a single break since he started at 7:30 this morning. He usually tried to be home around 5, but by the time he finished the last car, cleaned up and closed up shop, it was well past 6.

As he takes a few steps across the unpaved driveway towards the front steps of his house, he perks up, his ears catching a sound. He stops, narrowing his eyes as he realizes it’s music. He can’t quite make out the lyrics or the beat, but it’s definitely music. And as he focuses closer, he realizes it’s coming from the guest house. The empty guest house.

With careful steps, Dean hurries to the garage, unlocking the side door instead of using his automatic opener which would make enough noise to alert whoever wasn’t supposed to be here. Dean makes quick work of opening the locker along the wall and typing in the code to his safe, revealing his pistol, the marble-handled one his father got him when he turned eighteen. He checks to make sure the magazine is loaded and clicks off the safety, not wanting to be caught off guard by whoever was where no one was supposed to be.

With his weapon ready, Dean takes quiet steps towards the guest house, expertly avoiding the creaky first step as he walks up to the porch and peers in through the open windows. He doesn’t see any movement, but his brow furrows at the shoes resting to the side of the door.

He reaches for the handle, and it twists open, the lock undone, but not broken, and steps inside. His eyes scan the front room, looking for anyone or anything out of place besides the shoes, and seeing everything in order, starts towards sliding back doors that lead to the patio, where the sound of the music grows louder. As he reaches the door, he peers out, his shoulders dropping as he notices the string lights illuminated and the hot tub cover pushed off, a head lounging against one of the built-in pillows.

God damn kids pool hopping again. He sighs and clicks the safety to his gun back on. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with after the day he had.

This wasn’t the first time he’s found someone using his hot tub when they thought he was at work, but he figured he had put a stop to it after the McDowell twins and their girlfriends had snuck in and he called the cops on them for trespassing. Granted, he didn’t press charges, Dean wasn’t out to ruin the kids' lives, but the embarrassment of getting picked up naked and brought to the police station was enough to scare them and anyone else from trying it again.

Or so he thought.

The tension in his shoulders builds again as he pushes the door open, making his presence known with heavy steps before he shouts, “I thought you kids would know by now to stop–”

His words drop as a woman jumps up from the hot tub with a screech, her eyes wide as she takes quick steps away from him, or as far away as she can get in the hot tub.

She’s definitely not a kid. From the looks of it, she’s probably in her late twenties, or maybe someone who looks good for her thirties. Her short and wet Y/C/H drips onto her shoulders, and Dean unintentionally follows the path of a water droplet as it races down her chest, through her bikini-coveraged cleavage and down to her navel, before getting soaked into her bottoms.

Yeah, definitely not a kid.

“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.

“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.

“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?”

“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.

“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.

“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him.

“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever. Especially not for a fucking month.

Dean had no problem chatting with people at the shop or meeting friends for drinks downtown, but here at home, this was his private space, where he came to get away from it all. He rarely had anyone over as he just didn’t want to bother with people in his space.

“I rented this house from you and your wife on AirBnB.” She states simply, having no idea the weight behind her words as realization crosses Dean.

“That bitch.” He mutters under his breath and runs a hand down his face.

“Excuse me?” The woman seems to have heard him and he looks back to her.

“No, not you.” He quickly clarifies with a sigh. “My soon-to-be ex wife. I’m gonna take a guess she’s behind this.” Her brows fold again.

“Is her name Lisa Brandon?” She asks, and with a tight lipped, ghost of a smile, Dean nods, noting the use of her maiden name. He hadn’t heard her called that in years.

“How’d you know that?”

“She’s listed as the homeowner. She sent me the instructions for how to get into the house.”

Dean lets his head fall back and groans. His day was getting worse and worse.

Now he had to call his bitch of an ex and find out why there’s a woman planning to stay in his guest house for the next month.

“Got it,” Dean straightens himself out though his shoulder slumps. Leave it to Lisa to bring some poor woman into the middle of their mess.

“Seems we have a miscommunication. Sorry to ‘ave scared ya.” He holds his hand up in a half wave and forces a smile as he begins to turn back to step off the patio. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Dean hurries down the small path around the side of the house, not wanting to cut back through the house now that he knew someone was staying there, even if it was his space.

He vehemently shakes his head as he makes his way to the main house, his fists tight by his side as he prepares for his upcoming battle.

This was actually the last thing he wanted to do after the day he had.

Dean and Lisa have been separated for almost two years now, both unhappy for a long time before Lisa declared one day she had enough and had met someone else.

As he stomps into the house, he kicks his boots off messily at the door and removes the pistol from his waistband and drops it next to the keybowl. Initially he was thinking a beer, but now, he wandered over to the bar and poured himself a finger of whiskey, quickly throwing it back and feeling the warmth spread as it travels down to his stomach.

He runs a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath and pulling out his phone.

Her. Is what her contact is now. It wasn’t always. But that ship had long sailed.

He closes his eyes and licks his lips as the line rings, four times, before she answers.

“What do you want, Dean?” Her exasperated voice sighs through the other end of the line. He’s bothering her, but he’s only calling because she’s started it.

“You’re renting out my guest house?” He barks. He knows her well enough to know she’s smirking.

“Our guest house.” She corrects him and his hand balls into a fist. “Figured I’d make use of that house. No one’s used it in years.” He lets out a deep breath through his nose.

Except you and your boyfriend. He wants to throw in, but he won’t get anywhere if he starts throwing low blows, even if they are well deserved.

“You’ve got my attention, Lisa, now what do you want?” Dean cuts to the chase. He wants to keep this call as quick as possible.

“I want the property.” Dean scoffs. This was the one reason the divorce hadn’t been finalized yet. Both Dean and Lisa wanted to keep the house they bought together. She wanted it for a second income, and he wanted to keep it just to spite her because she wanted it. Was he proud of it? No. But after everything that happened, he wanted to keep her from getting the only thing she wanted in the divorce. Plus, she couldn’t marry her boy toy until their divorce was finalized, so Dean saw no reason to give in anytime soon.

“Nice try. You know that’s off the table, and I’ll have my lawyer look into this little stunt of yours.” Dean figures he can either hit her with a cease and desist since she was the one who left and moved away or negotiate getting half of the income she’s going to earn off the rentals. Not that he wants anyone in his space, but if he figures he can take half the cut, Lisa may just stop bothering.

“In case you’ve forgotten Dean, we’re still married.” No one needed to remind him that. “And my name is still on the property agreement. So that house is just as much mine as it is yours, and I have every right to rent it out. But feel free to get the lawyers involved. All you're doing is wasting my time and yours, not to mention your money.” Dean shakes his head and tightens his jaw.

The goddamn lawyers. As much as he was enjoying prolonging the inevitable, it turned out, lawyers were pretty damn expensive to keep on retainer. He made good money at the shop, but it wasn’t two-years-worth of lawyer money, and Dean knew that he was close to ruining his finances just to satisfy his pettiness. But Dean was stubborn, and wasn’t ready to give in just yet.

“Get her out or I will, Lis.” And with that, Dean ends the call. He picks up the bottle of whiskey, this time forgoing the glass as he takes a big swig. There was no way he was going to bed early tonight now.

Once your heart had finally settled and you were sure you weren’t going to pass out from the fear of the strikingly tall and broad-shouldered man who apparently was the co-owner of the home sneaking up on you as you relaxed in what was his hot tub, you whipped out your laptop and settled down on one of the bar stools that sat under the extended kitchen counter. You had opened the bottle of red wine you had brought up with you, not expecting to open it so soon, but after your hellish meet-and-greet with the actual owner, you needed it.

You cross your legs underneath you as you pull up your AirBNB inbox, finding Lisa’s name and starting a message as you take a big sip of wine that you had poured into a coffee mug, the cabin not equipped with any barware.

You sigh through your nose and purse your lips. The other shoe had to drop at some point. Between the amazing rental price, picturequest town, and beautiful guest house, everything had seemed too good to be true. Turns out, it was.

Hi Lisa, it seems there is a miscommunication. I met your husband this evening and it sounds like he was unaware I’m renting the space. I’m not looking to get in the middle of anything so would you please be able to refund me and I’ll stay elsewhere? Your message flies off with a whoosh and you take another sip.

Your life had been enough of a mess the last few months, you had no interest in getting involved in someone else’s drama. So you would have Lisa refund you for the stay, try to find a new spot to stay, and hopefully be on your way in the morning, even if it meant spending more than you initially were planning.

You’re about to stand up and head to the tv but your inbox pings with a response from Lisa.

Don’t worry about him. You rented the guest house and it’s yours for the four weeks. And per the booking site, I do not need to issue you a refund for any reason unless the house is uninhabitable, which it isn’t. So if you are going to leave, that’s up to you, but I will not be refunding your stay. But if you will be canceling, let me know.

You stare at the text flabbergasted. What a bitch. You don’t even know her and you were getting a glimpse into why this marriage didn’t work out.

You really didn’t want to be a part of her mind games, you had had enough of that in your own life. Your vacation had barely started and it was already on the verge of being ruined.

You hop onto the booking site and start looking for other options, with a check in starting tomorrow. As you scroll through, the few options available are wildly expensive, and seem to be a room share versus a private rental. And you couldn’t return to your apartment; you had told your landlord about your trip and agreed to let him sublease the space while you were gone, which initially you agreed to since it would cover your rent for the month, but now was just another series of bad decisions since you quit your job.

Which really just left you with one option; suck it up, keep your head down, and try to make the most of your trip.

Well this sucks.

Keep Reading

NEXT TIME:

“Look,” You snap and point a finger at him. “I’m not here to be the pawn in your divorce game. I came here to relax. Problem is, every other place I’ve looked at in the area is either sold out or way more expensive than here, and I can’t afford it. You wife-”

“Ex wife-” He interjects curtly.

“Whatever,” you snarl at his interruption. “Rented this place for a good deal, and considering I don’t have a job right now, I can’t really afford to go somewhere else.”

“If you don’t have a job, what the hell are you doing here then?” He challenges, crossing his arms and matching your stance.

“That’s none of your business.” He tsks his tongue and throws his head back with an exasperated sigh.

“Look,” You lower your voice, hoping a calmer tone will help ease the situation. “Unless you need this house for anything, I promise I’ll stay out of your way. I won’t bother you, and you’ll barely know I’m here. But I already paid Lisa and I don’t have any other options, so you’re stuck with me.”

The man takes a deep breath through his nose and purses his lips.

“Fine.” He snaps. “Enjoy your freakin’ vacation.” He huffs before he storms away from the porch and back to the main house. You shake your head at his antics.

Like a toddler having a temper tantrum.

Between Lisa’s bitchy attitude and his man-child behavior, it’s a wonder how those two ever actually liked each other enough to get married.

Tag List

Forever

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213

TGH

@suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @spnbaby-67 @jackles010378 @itsdesiree86 @becca-rebel38 @rizlowwritessortof @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @briagallen @crxstxlxtxs @kazsrm67 @waywardxwords @winchestergirl82 @ladysparkles78 @deansbbyx @rach5ive @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @justrealizedimmascifygurl @justherefortheficandsmut

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #the guest house

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deadpoolsoci3ty · 2 months

Text

so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 1

(a/n: so i've been posting this on ao3 for about a week and just decided to post on here too now. also i do not have a posting schedule im busy lol sorry)

summary: finding the radio at that thrift store may have completely changed the course of my life, but really i'm not complaining at all.

word count: 1,789

warnings: none i think (let me know if should add some!)

ao3 link

masterlist

Chapter One: thing of beauty

The cold wind of Chicgo bit at my face as I walked the short walk from my apartment to the thrift store. I’m not totally sure what I was going there to look for, but I just needed to get out of my apartment. The walk was pleasant because I’m a college student home at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the sidewalks are barren. The store finally comes into view, and then I’m walking in. I greet the woman at the register, and immediately book it towards the trinkets in the back. I look through their selection of shot glasses and mugs, not seeing anything that I just had to have. I pace around the back of the store until I see this gorgeous antique radio. A radio would be great for background noise when I’m reading, and plus this was a thing of beauty. I may not have a lot of money, but I knew in my heart whatever price this radio was, it was coming home with me. I rushed over to pick it up so I could find the price, but before my eyes could land on the price tag they first saw a small ‘A’ carved into wood in the corner. Maybe it was like an Andy Toy Story situation, a cute little memory from a previous owner. Then I found the price, a solid $60 which I am truly willing to part with for this beautiful radio.

With an extra pep in my step, I made my way to the register to pay for my lovely new friend. I greeted the employee at the register once again, and she looked somewhat excited that I put the radio on the conveyor belt. “Has this been here long?” I asked because I was confused how someone would pass up this piece of art.

“Longer than me, pretty sure,” she shrugged, “all the employees here have made up our little stories about the history behind it.” She rang me up and the screen prompted me to put my card in, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get a sweet treat for a week or two but the radio was worth it. “It has been bought before though,” I furrowed my brow because what was wrong with this damn clock? But, to be honest I didn’t care if the radio even worked or not (I was hoping it did though) it was just beautiful. “The people always come back in basically begging us to buy it back, don’t even care for how much. One guy sold it to us for fifty cents one time.”

Now, normally I would not be caught dead with an object that people had been begging to return, and with the way the employee had been describing the situation the radio was definitely scaring the shit out of everybody that purchased it. But, for some reason I needed this radio. A little about me, I’m a textbook snobby english major. I love all things vintage, I think the classics are the greatest works in English literature, and hold a deep detestment for many aspects of modern culture. Yes, I am annoying.

“Mmm, something tells me I’ll be keeping it for the long haul.” I don’t know what possessed me to say something like this, but I’m just gonna go with it. I thank the employee and make my way out of the shop.

The walk home was much less brisk now that I was carrying this heavy radio, but I didn’t think about it much. I was just so excited. My roommate was out filming for some school project so I could fiddle with it when I got home.

After what feels like forever, I see the fence in front of my apartment. I whip out my keys, and put them in the lock of the first door and lock it behind me, while putting the key into the next door which leads to my apartment. I take off my shoes and lock the door. I walk over to the dining room table and put my purse down along with the radio so I can take my coat off. Once coatless, I grab the radio and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I mess with the knobs and dials until I hear a crackle. “Yes!” I yelled, as I began switching through the stations, most of the stations I knew from the radio in my car were entirely static. After a couple of minutes I heard someone speaking, the voice was filtered through what sounded like a microphone from the early days of audio.

“Hello dearie!~” the strange voice spoke, I assumed it was a prerecorded file a station was playing. Like a radio version of the history channel. So, of course I didn’t speak back to the radio. Then, the voice came back, “I said…” a loud static started to emanate from the speaker, “Hello!”

My first thought was ‘fuck me, if this is a demon in here, I’m definitely going to fall for one of his traps’ I had just though about this a couple days ago, I want things! Sue me! And I’m not fucking with you two days ago I had been thinking about this shit and now here I am. Welp, I’m fucked, but still I carry on. And now I was sure I had completely lost my mind, so since that had already happened and I was obviously in the middle of an episode of psychosis, I decided to reply, “Oh! Umm I didn’t think you were speaking to me. My apologies!” Whoever this person who was speaking was, I definitely did NOT want him to be upset with me.

“Oh dear, oh dear! Far in the past now! You’ve got my radio!” I could tell whoever was speaking was smiling, I could hear in their voice.

“This is yours? It’s gorgeous, I can assume you’re the ‘A’ on the bottom of it.” I could have asked so many questions, but I went with this one. I’m not totally sure why, but I really want to know more about the strange voice.

“Alastor! That’s my name, sweetheart!” He seemed excited to introduce himself, and honestly I was just as excited as him.

“Hello Alastor! My name is Y/N! It’s nice to meet you! Where do you live, Alastor? I found the radio in Chicago!” Why was I telling this strange voice over a creepy radio where I live.

“Oh when I was alive, my home was New Orleans. Absolutely fantastic! It made it all the way to the Windy City!” My heart froze after his fifth word, hair standing up, goose pimples all over my skin, and a shock through my spine. When he was alive??? What the fuck does that mean? He’s definitely a demon, yep fuck me.

“Just to clarify, you did just say ‘when you were alive’ right? That wasn’t me hearing things, right?” I was hyperventilating out of my damn mind. I absolutely understood now why people had returned this freaky fucking radio

“Oh yes, of course, dear! I’m coming to you straight from Hell.” The way he said it like it was the most casual thing ever, had me feeling like I was overreacting to what he was saying.

“And you’re not messing with me?” After it came out of my mouth I heard him clench his teeth.

“Oh, now what is your impression of me that says I would do that to you?” He seems frustrated with my question, and that did not sit right with me. I was quick to appease him.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant by that, I promise!” I try to stop myself from spilling my guts to this man who I believe might be a demon, because the voice in my head was telling me giving personal information to a demon was probably not the best decision I could make, but I just couldn’t stop myself. “It’s just I never believed in an afterlife or a religion, so it’s just that you have just told me that hell is real and that is absolutely insane to me because now I’m terrified hell is horrible. Is it horrible? I mean I guess that’s the point?” I took a deep breath before I continued my word vomiting, but before I got the chance, Alastor began speaking again.

“Sweet girl~ please stop with the yammering…” His voice seemed like nectar to me, I could listen to him speak all day, “before we continue with our little back and forth, I am going to need to know what I’m getting out of this?” I immediately started thinking about the things I could offer him, not my soul. Wasn’t there just yet.

“What could you possibly want from me?” This was the most genuine question I had asked in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to offer him. I had money for groceries, rent, and utilities. Most of my possessions were books, he was in hell what use could he have for anything I could give him.

“I just adore your voice, little deer!” He was back to being his chirpy self, and it rubbed off on me making me feel a little calmer. “I’m sure you would love to continue our little chats, and in return I’d just like for you to read to me, from a book of your choosing of course.” I was trying not to let off how excited I was, I wanted him to feel like he was getting more out of this than he was. “I’m trusting you have immaculate taste, but give a couple of your favorites just so I can tell.”

After a few quick beats I respond with, “My favorite book of all time is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, I’m a big fan of the classics, nineteenth century literature.”

“Oh how swell!” he seemed like he was buzzing with glee, “A beautiful voice with even better taste!” He seemed to chuckle to himself and as his laugh faded out his voice came back, “Well, dearest, I’m afraid I must be going for now! I’ll excuse your payment for today, but be ready for next time, my dear,” I took a deep breath at the thought of a next time, “When you want to contact me again, just tune back into this station, I’ll be able to tell. I won’t always be able to talk, but when I can I’ll be there in a jiffy!”

Before I could respond to him the static that accompanied his voice faded and it eventually became silent in my apartment once again. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and leaned back into my couch.

(a/n: i've written five chapters so far i'll be posting the other four asap)

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor fic #hazbin fic #hazbin hotel fic

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aphroditness · 1 year

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"Oh god, have you seen the new girl ?" South park headcanons with a really pretty+feminine Y/n <//3 (Requested)

(All characters are in highschool +aged up, about 14-15)

!! GIRLBOSS Y/N AU 😍🔊🔊

You always knew you were pretty, if beauty was a weapon, you would be locked and loaded. (Ginny and Georgia reference LMAO)

Your parents weren't the best, but they were filthy rich. So you had all the freedom you got, especially since being the only child can have its MANY perks. You would always go out with your friends to shopping malls, thrifts stores, salons, and allll thatt gooddd stufff

When you moved, you and your parents moved into this really big house. It costed an ass load of money but you could afford it, y'know, cause your rich n' shii.

When you knew it would be your first day at south park high, you got up at 5AM, curled your hair, did your makeup and put on your cutest outfit. Your pretty smile was the cherry on top. Of course, you missed your friends. But you were still excited to be going to a new school. Maybe your life could be better here. Without all the drama, and rumors spreading about you.

Once those doors opened, all eyes were on you. People were whispering and a few people even FAINTED. F A I N T E D. But you just laughed and brushed it off, you would always get these reactions from everyone. For you, this was normal. You already had all your classes set, and your locker was decorated to your liking. You owned the school now, and even the teachers accepted their fate.

Entering your classroom, you were most intrigued by four boys. A boy with black hair, a boy in an orange hoodie with blonde hair, a red head, and a very degrading boy with brown hair who seemed to really get on everyone's nerves.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and for the first time in years, the classroom went silent. The same classroom those annoying boys (from what you heard) were in. You walked up to the front, and with a sickingly sweet smile and a pretty voice, you introduced yourself.

You twirled your hair, made eye contact, and spoke with perfect confidence. And the whole class, was instantly flustered by your beauty. Cartman decided what would happen if he tried messing with you. He pulled your chair, which Kyle pushed back before you could sit down. And he even tried spitting gum in your hair, but missed when you bent down to grab your pencil. He was getting pretty annoyed since he couldn't do anything, but he wanted to try one last thing.

Insulting you infront of the whole school.

You were sitting in the cafeteria. With Wendy, Bebe, Clyde, Tweek and Craig. You all were giggling and having fun until Cartman screamed your name across the room, making everyone turn heads.

"Hey Wh0re! What's it like being the center of attention?" | "Excuse me? Would you care to say that again?" | "You heard me, bitch." | "Sorry, Eric. But I dont really think I wanna be wasting my time listening to bullshit from a cocky fatass."

The room started laughing so hard, Cartman's face was turning red. He got played by his own game. Gave him a slap in the face with that one. Kyle's drink was literally about to explode out his nose and you just sat there, face to face, smiling at Cartman.

God you were such a Girlboss, and a total hottie.

The girls (Wendy's girlgroup) Invited you for a sleepover at Bebe's house, and you accepted right away! You had made friends with the entire school in just one day, I think it's pretty obvious that your the most popular girl in school now.

♡

At the sleepover, you and the girls shared your music tastes. After you shared your playlist with everyone, they blasted your music on Wendy's radio. <//3 Melanie martinez -> Taylor swift -> Lana del rey -> MARINA -> Nessa Barret, and all the latest pop songs!

(Until the guys decided to break into the sleepover, and they had to stay over as well.)

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hauntedtrait · 1 month

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Julian O'Neal is Cherishing Cherry (@wrixie)

Julian did not have a good life growing up, music being the only constant thing in his life, the one thing he could take comfort in at the end of every day. In his teens, he started working at Dead Man's Records, a local record shop he could walk to after school, and the same place he'd spend his hard earned money at, buying himself records, cassettes and everything he needed to listen to them at home.

Whatever money Julian had leftover after buying his records went into his savings, and as soon as he was 18, his boss ( and owner of the store ), let him crash in the bedroom upstairs. This little record shop tucked in a corner of Copperdale was his entire life, and he was grateful for it, he loved it so much he barely saw working there as labor. He loved the music, the ambience, the customers, and the friends he made there. He transformed the place, bringing in new clientele and adding a space for people to perform music and read poetry.

When Julian was 23, the record store owner passed away, leaving Julian the shop and the apartment in his will, and it's been under his care ever since. In recent years Julian added a recording booth to the shop as well and got a little radio show started, as well as using the space to teach kids and teens how to play guitar. Private DL if chosen! More info below ⬇️

In regards to his love life... there isn't much to say other than he has been abysmally unsuccessful. His longest relationship ended a year ago, and had been a failed attempt at being married. Julian and his now ex-wife had only been dating for about 3 months after having been friends for 10 years, and drunkenly decided to get married by a Judith Ward Drag Queen impersonator. 6 months later the pair realized they were much better off as friends and broke things off. They're still friends and share custody of a cat named Custard.

Still, Julian has all but lost hope on love and is slightly desperate. Dating apps are NOT his thing, at all, as the man is quite the technophobe, he doesn't even own a smartphone. So here he is, giving love another try, going out of his comfort zone in the process.

Likes: thrifting, vinyl records, collecting record & cassette players, making mixtapes as a love language, music from before the 2000s, distillery tours Dislikes: smartphones, music subscription services, most vegetables, vapes, electronic music, futurism

Traits: Restless, Music Lover, Technophobe

Fun Facts: collects record players and tape players, loves movies too just not as much as music ( especially slasher horror ), his favorite movie is Scream, his favorite band is Filter, secretly likes to dance, is a competent enough cook but usually too tired to do it so he tends to order food a lot, never had pets growing up but would love to have more of them now, he just needs the space for it, cries easily, is the go-to person to invite to a concert, friends with pretty much all his customers and students.

#cherrysbc #julian o'neal #my sims

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femoso-seben · 8 months

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Immortal Shenanigans

Chapter 1: Pots and Bullets

Pt. 2, Pt.3

Warning: mild violence.

You stare into the darkness and frown. You had finally remembered the location of your first-ever temple, your pride and joy. At last! But all of your Gold, Statues, and mercury river was gone! What was left were thousands of years old footprints of the thieves who robbed you.

You sigh and walk around with your flashlight in hand. You fell in through a trap door and forgot how to get out. It’s been over 5,000 years and your memories of this time long faded into the back of your mind. You walk around before stopping your eyes widen as joy sets in.

Your pots!

They survived. They were rudimentary and shabbily made, but for the time it was the best. You looked at them and gently picked on up, it was used for wine when mortals bestowed God-hood onto you. It was so long ago, to be worshiped, what bliss.

“AAAAHHH!” You turn around to see the trap door closing and a new figure with you.

“What the fucking hell was that?” The man with a Mohawk grumbles. “Hello! Anyone here me?” He shouts before walking around. He’s like a mad toddler throwing a tantrum. You giggle and he twirls around gun in hand.

“Aaah!” He screams. “What are you doing down here?”

“This is my temple.” You casually reply. It was your temple, the temple of Hauhet. Many believe you were Hauhet, the goddess of eternity.

“Your temple?” He asked his accent strong and annoyed.

“My temple,” you repeat. He stared at you with a look that called you dumb in every language possible.

“What are you a grave robber?”

“Excuse me, child! I am an Antique collector! I fell down here just like you!” You snap annoyed this young man was back talking you.

“I’m pretty sure I’m older than you,” he states looking you up and down. You give him a stink eye, of course, he thinks he’s older, you haven’t aged past the age of 20. You had long lost your actual age or the date of your birthday. You roughly believe you are 5,000 years old maybe a tad younger, you couldn’t remember.

“I look very young for my age!”

“Yeah, sure.” He turns away and begins to talk to someone, The smart man had a radio or phone on him, either way, you would have eventually gotten out of there, maybe taken you a century but you’d get out.

“Ghost do you copy?”

“Affirmative, it appears I fell down a trap and there’s a random lady done here with me.” His strong accent, Scottish from the sounds of things was talking to a fool called Ghost.

You sit down on your throne as old memories of your culture seep back into your mind. The strong smell of the river, of lotus. The heavy sweet taste of honey. You remember the scent that used to adorn your skin the Kyphi only used for a god. Whenever you smell saffron it hits you like a truck.

You could no longer remember the memories but your heart never forgot the sensation of those times long passed. You open your eyes to see the man staring at you.

“You look comfy.”

“It’s my throne.”

“How long have you been down here for?”

“A day at most, at least an hour? Time moves by fast for me.” You wiggle your fingers at him, he nods.

“You fell down the trap?”

“Yup, I was digging around and fell through,” You explain shrugging and looking down at him. He was mildly handsome.

“There is an escape somewhere here…”

“How do you know that?”

“This is my temple!” You state for the again. The man rolls his eyes.

“And where would this exist be?”

“I don’t remember, this place is about 5,000 years old, I’ve forgotten.” The man sighs and walks around.

“This place is shit for a temple.”

“It used to be filled with so much gold it lined every wall.” He turns to me shocked.

“And what happened?”

“Thieves.”

Soap looked at the girl, she was no older than a teenager. Her clothes look like she shopped at a thrift store, specifically the old lady section. She sat on that throne like she owned it, her crazy ramble might be due to dehydration. She could also be a spy for the opponent.

“What’s your name?”

“Which one?” You cock your head to the side and gaze down at him.

“Your real name.”

“I have many “real names” be more specific.”

“Which name are you using right now?”

“We’ll I have several.” The man glared and walked off. He groans, he is dealing with an absolute weirdo.

The trap door was activated and light shone into this hidden temple. You stand up and walk under the light. The sun felt great on your dark skin.

“Soap you down there?” A gruff-sounding man pokes his over the hole.

“Affirmative.” A rope was dropped down. And soap walks behind you. “After you.” You grimace but climb the rope using just your arms. Your legs dangle like dead weight.

Another man helps you up, and behind you, Soap (another dumb name in your opinion) climbs up to the surface. You look over to see a man with a skull mask on.

“What took you so long?”

“I was looking for the damn trigger.”

“I literally told you where it was.”

“Are you two married?” You asked rearing your arm against your knees and stared at this with a devious smile. They turn to you with a glare.

“No!” A smug smile spreads across your lips, they are funny. You stand up and put on your backpack that you stowed under the sand.

“Well you two love bird have fun, I need to return to my—“

“You're coming with us.”

“Eh?”

The next thing you know you’re strapped down to a chair surrounded by 4 big guys. You would have laughed if it wasn’t for the gun pointed at your head— actually, you didn’t care. This situation seems so porn esc.

You look up trying to stop yourself from laughing. You fail and you begin to cackle like a hyena. Tears roll down your face. “Oh meh gawd this is funny!” You say between a gasp of air.

“What’s your name?” The man with incredible facial hair asked you, a cigar in hand. Your laughter stopped and you gave into the man’s face.

“I have many, be more specific.” You tease. You know how this looks, you had many names, you’ve lied so much you long forgot names you give people who might remember you.

“The main one you used.”

“I have like 5 in rotation.”

“What are they!” He bellows, You gaze at him coldly, barely fazed.

“Mary, Nina, Mia, YN, and Pot stealer.” Soap unfolded his arm, did his ears deceive him?

“Pot stealer?” Ghost mutters.

“Now I have to ask, why’d you steal pots?”

“I like pots!” You tell Soap. He stared into my face before covering his and laughing his ass off.

“You can not be serious!”

“Look old people are ruthless when it comes to antique collecting, they always like to throw the term thief. It’s not my fault I’m rich!” You complain. Soap drops to his knees laughing so hard he couldn’t even stand.

“How many— how many pots do you have at home?” Soap asked through gasps.

“Like a thousand or two thousand, I’m not a math guy.” You wiggle your fingers. The binding on your hands is tight. It was constricting the flow of blood.

“YN? She went missing a week ago?” The cigar man mumbles.

“A week? Pogs! Huh, time really does pass by fast.” You smile nodding my head. It was an accomplishment, this is the shortest time you’ve been stuck somewhere no one could find me.

“How are you still alive?”

“…I don’t know.” You truly have never figured out how you became immortal. Just one day you stop aging and never age past that point. You have seen husbands, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren die, yet you were frozen in time.

“How don’t you know?”

“I’m immortal.” Everyone stared at you with eyes that said it all. You are stupid and a little bit crazy in the head.

“Yeah right.”

“So you really think you're immortal?” The mustache man asked.

“Shoot me in the head and you’ll see,” I state back.

“The news reports you’re a photographer, yet why would a photographer have many names?” Ghost asked walking around you.

“For shits and giggles.”

“I think she’s a spy.”

“I was—“

“So you are a spy!”

“Bro, literally what you just did was like calling a thirty-year-old who used to work at a Starbucks in their teens barista, it’s insulting. I haven’t been a spy since the 70s!” You shout.

“That’s like,” you begin to count on your fingers, “that’s like 50 years ago!”

“Did you have to count?” Soap asked.

“I’m not a math person!”

“Either way your sketchy.”

“That is true!”

“Or delusional.”

“That is also very true!”

“She might be working with the enemy.” The only black man said.

“That is less true but go off.”

“For someone who claims to be thousands of years old you sure do know a lot of pop culture words.”

“I feel really connected with this generation. Their want to die is such a valid emotion. Also, I might be old but I’m also 20, so I know shit.”

“She’s crazy.”

“What do you want me to sound like the Bible? Dost thou well to be angry for the gourd?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Thou hast had pity on the gourd!”

They all stare at you confused. Soap opened his mouth and closed it, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m asking you do you expect me to sound medieval?”

“Yes.”

“Art thou a muttonhead?” You state with a bored expression.

“Did you call me dumb?”

“Yay.” You nod your head. If they wanted vintage language you’ll give them Shakespeare flashback.

“If thy willa eald then thine becuman eald.” You state speaking English was a massive gulf ball in your cheeks. It was a mix of the older version of English. It didn’t matter which age it came from if it’s vaguely understandable that’s good enough.

(If you want old then you’ll get old.)

“What?”

“Sceotan me dead, and thy wilt seon.”

(Shoot me died, and you will see.)

“Speak modern English!”

“Imma lives rent-free in your head because I hit different, I’m a whole ass vibe check! And that’s on periodt.” You quickly state. “Y’all being so extra about this it ain’t it, chief. I’m not sus I’m not capping. But this entire situation is sending me!”

“What— what?”

“I don’t know I’m just saying stuff.”

“That’s enough,” the cigar man snaps his patients at its wit’s end.

“Oh poor fool, are you getting tired of me?” You tilt your head before smiling.

“Are you working with the Russian?”

“I’m not snitching on my buddies,” You had no clue what he was asking but you decided to play along. Life has long lost its sparkle. You chose many names and many identities just to amuse yourself. When you fall through the creaks of the lies seeing the world crumble around you is entertaining.

Bang!

You slump over. The world turns dark. You blink and you are alive. You kept your head down. Blood oozed from your head. And the loud complaints of the men make you smile.

“Oi,” you loudly call out causing a few to jump. They turn to you eyes wide in horror. They turn to each other, “Can ya untie me, I really need to get that bullet out my head.” You tilt your head casually to the side.

“I’m waiting.”

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1.8K words

First stupid idea idk if anyone will see this lol

If you want more please tell me!

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #call of duty #141 #modern warfare 2 #captain price #john price #cod #cod x reader #shananigans #idk what else to tag #idk

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say-al0e · 2 years

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Radio Silent

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Eddie has a habit of going radio silent but it never lasts very long. When he goes nearly a week without calling, you fear the worst. Turns out, Metallica has him just a little distracted.

Warnings: Mentions of drug use (on Eddie’s part), worry about his driving and his dealing, a little anxiety, Eddie has undiagnosed ADHD

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Stranger Things Taglist | Stranger Things Masterlist | Accepting Requests for Eddie and Steve

There were a few facts about your relationship with Eddie Munson that, when considered, made your life easier.

First, Eddie rarely answered the phone. It was never personal - you knew that, if given the chance, Eddie would’ve chosen to talk to you over anything else that could’ve captured his attention - but he hated being tied to one space, waiting for the phone to ring.

The vast majority of his time was spent wandering about - at school, or, at the very least, on school grounds; in someone’s garage, practicing with Corroded Coffin; in his van, waiting patiently for whichever Hawkins High student wanted to buy from him; in the woods, smoking and writing and hiding from the rest of the world. When he happened to be at home, it was rare he could hear the phone ring over the sound of whichever tape he’d fixated on that day.

Second, Eddie was impulsive. He had dreams, certainly, but rarely full-blown plans. The only exception to this fact was Dungeons and Dragons - each campaign was meticulously planned, written out to the letter by Eddie himself.

Most days, Eddie was content to wander wherever the wind blew him. If the mood struck him, he would attend class. If not, he would do whatever it took to scratch the sudden itch in his brain that wanted something more stimulating than Ms. O’Donnell’s class. Often, that meant scouring local thrift shops or hiding in a dusty corner of the library, researching his latest campaign.

Third, and most important, Eddie tended to lose track of time easily. No matter how many times he was reminded of the watch around his wrist, no matter how close he kept a clock, Eddie rarely knew what time it was or how long he’d been lost in whatever task caught his attention.

Eddie could spend hours lost in his own world; writing for a new campaign, scribblings lyrics in a composition book, plucking at the strings of his guitar. Most of his time was spent alone - not that it bothered him; before you came into his life, and once you left for college, Eddie had grown used to it - which meant there was no one to inconvenience with his lack of timekeeping.

Combined, Eddie could - accidentally, and with some frequency - go radio silent.

The silence never lasted very long - if Eddie went too long without hearing from you, he took it upon himself to call; sheepishly apologized when he realized he was the one who had neglected to reach out in the first place - but it happened and you still worried. Even if, deep down, you knew that Eddie was fine, just a little distracted, every hour that passed without so much as a quick call needled at your nerves.

Eddie’s record for radio silence was two days. He’d gotten a little too high - tried something new with Rick, just to get his mind off you, off of school - two weeks after you left Hawkins and had a hard time coming down. His uncle knew what he did in his spare time but Eddie hated disappointing him.

Instead of going home to suffer in the comfort of his bed, he hid in Rick’s boathouse and waited for the world to right itself once more.

When he finally called, you were considering driving back to Hawkins - had an overnight bag ready at the foot of your bed, paced the tile floor of your dorm room and worried your roommate half to death - but he promised that he was fine. He swore that it wouldn’t happen again - that he would, at the very least, call to bid you goodnight - and that was that.

For months, Eddie kept his promise. If there was ever a time when he got a little too involved in something - needed time to plan a campaign, felt the manic urge to write, wanted to try getting homework done (rarest of all, but it happened) - he still made an effort to call, say hello and remind you that he loved you. It was short, less than a minute, but he tried, even if it was just for a moment, and you were never left wondering very long what captured his attention.

Except, six days had passed since you last heard from Eddie.

There were a million things that could’ve captured his attention and held it - the Cult of Vecna was close to wrapping up, waiting only for the final night with a horde of hyperactive children; Corroded Coffin had gotten a handful of gigs outside of Hawkins, shitty dive bars that made you wrinkle your nose but made Eddie feel like a rockstar; Ms. O’Donnell was riding his ass, grading harder than ever before as he limped toward the finish line, and her final was known to be a killer - but nothing would’ve kept him from calling for six whole days.

The few voicemails you left went unanswered, calls unreturned, and you knew that his uncle would’ve answered the phone if you’d called during the day. He would’ve taken the time to sigh, inform you that Eddie had locked himself in his room to re-read a Lord of the Rings book or maybe work on a new campaign - possibly even clean, as he knew you would be home, spending more time in his bed than your own, in a matter of days - but you hated to bother him.

Calling Wayne would embarrass Eddie and, though his uncle could be a little gruff at times, you knew he liked you well enough to call if anything of note happened.

Spring break was around the corner, so close that you could taste it, and though you hated to skip anything - class, an inconsequential club meeting, a trip to the record store with friends - you were too worried to be anything more than a body occupying space. Each day that passed, the words scribbled on chalkboards and the conversations happening around you made less and less sense, flew in one ear and poured straight out the other, and everyone could see it.

There was little for you in Indianapolis when you felt this way - lost, anxious, nervous - so you packed your bags Thursday night and left for Hawkins at first light.

A sharp anxiety, ice cold and persistent, needled at you the entire drive. Each limb felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds, heavy and uncoordinated as you drove in silence, but nothing seemed to work to calm you. Dread settled in the pit of your stomach, crept through your veins and wrapped tendrils of fear around your lungs, even as you tried to talk yourself down.

Rationally, you knew that Eddie was fine - distracted, probably exhausted from whatever pursuit had been keeping him occupied, but fine. However, rationality did little to calm the racing of your heart as you blew past the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign and headed straight for Forrest Hills.

Visions of everything that could possibly go wrong - an accident, most likely with the way he drives; a deal with someone he should’ve left alone, a joke made in error to the wrong person; a wisecrack too many to a state trooper, ending with him in cuffs; a moment of trust in the wrong person, a little less caution than he knew he needed - plagued you, had you pressing the gas a little harder than you would’ve liked as the winding roads carried you closer.

It was a miracle, really, that you made it without a string of red and blue lights following behind.

As you rolled to a stop, you noticed Eddie’s van was parked in front, haphazardly settled into the space unofficially reserved for him, and the panic you felt seemed a little silly, a little irrational. It was unlike you to get so worked up over a few missed phone calls - it was nothing for you to go weeks without speaking to other friends, days in a row without speaking to your parents - but Eddie always called.

Even before you left for school, on days when you’d spent hours together, Eddie called. He talked, content to prattle on about nothing, until he knew you were on the verge of sleep. He called to say good morning, called to say good night; Eddie never missed a chance to talk to you and that was the thing that contributed most to your worry.

Any other time, you would’ve knocked - waited patiently at the top step, grin on your lips and fingers playing with the ring looped through a chain around your neck, for Eddie to find you; waited for him to throw himself at you, nearly send you both tumbling down the steps as he dragged you into an embrace - but the worry still clouding your brain had you stepping through the unlocked door without a second thought.

The trailer looked exactly as you remembered - cleaner, with only a few signs of life in the form of a coffee mug on the counter and a pan still on the stove scattered about - and it calmed your nerves, if only minutely. The space was comfortable, welcoming in a way you’d never expected, and you were glad to see that little had changed in your absence.

To no surprise, you could hear the strum of a guitar - coupled with a smattering of swears, whispers of frustration that filled the gaps - from Eddie’s room and your heart hammered against your ribs as you crept down the hall. Without thinking, you threw open the door with wide eyes and parted lips, and allowed a quiet sigh of relief to escape you at the sight.

Eddie sat, plaid pajama pants slung low on his hips and cut-off Iron Maiden t-shirt covering his chest, in front of his stereo with his guitar on his lap. A composition book laid open at his side, page covered in hurried scribbles, as Metallica’s Master of Puppets filled the room. The volume was low - loud enough to hear, quiet enough to fade into the background as he strummed at his guitar - and his attention snapped to the door the moment it thudded against the wall.

The concentrated frown on his lips, the pinch between his brows, relaxed and he brightened considerably at the sight of you. There was a hint of surprise, obvious in the part of his lips and the width of his eyes, but he grinned, just the same.

“You’re home!” Eddie glanced at his watch, then, as if the thought of time suddenly hit him, and blinked. “Shit, you’re early. D’you skip class? You can’t do that, sweetheart. One of us has to be studious. I think that ship’s already sailed for me, though.” He waved a dismissive hand at himself, at the pajamas he still wore though it was well past noon, and laughed as his attention fell back to the composition book at his side.

Eddie’s laughter rang in your ears, white noise that joined the music still pouring from his stereo, and drowned out the questions of ‘what if’ that no longer mattered. He was alright, wholly unaffected and lost in the strum of his guitar, and that was all you needed to see.

As his hand moved, dragged a pencil across the page - scribbled chords, rewound the tape a little to catch what he’d missed - you focused on keeping your breathing even as you nodded. “Everyone was skipping today,” you explained, though the words fell from your lips slowly, struggling to push past the cotton. “Nothing happens before break.”

Tears prickled at the backs of your eyes - relieved that he was alright, embarrassed that you’d panicked so thoroughly - as you watched him pluck at the strings of his guitar. “Why does college sound so much cooler than high school? I’m sure Ms. O’Donnell had something super important to cover today.” He rolled his eyes as he scribbled another note, this one a question mark, an option. “When I graduate, move to Indy with you, maybe you can sneak me into a class someday.”

“I think you’d like Cultural Anthropology. The professor likes Metallica.”

The conversation was as casual as you could muster, words slipping out in a puff of measured breathing, but Eddie didn’t seem to notice as he nodded. “See, so much cooler. Speaking of Metallica, though, I’ve almost got Master of Puppets down! The solo’s kinda tricky but I’ve been practicing and it’s starting to sound alright.”

“That’s good, Eds. I’m glad.”

If Eddie hadn’t been paying attention before, the hollow reply you offered was enough to reign him back in. The response was devoid of the fond exasperation you usually leveled him with - absent the soft admonishment for skipping school, just to learn another cover - and he frowned as he dropped his pencil and turned to you. Warm brown eyes raked your heated skin, took in the sight of you standing frozen in the doorway, and he shook his head.

“Shit,” he laughed, a little sheepish as he placed his guitar on his bed and stood. “Sorry. Got a little caught up. But I missed you, pretty, and I’m glad you’re home.”

As he moved to close the space between you, Eddie blinked, doe eyes wide and suddenly so concerned as they met yours. He seemed to realize the state you were in, fingers twisting in the fabric of your skirt, and moved slowly. He reached out with gentle hands, fingers rough from his guitar, and frowned. “Sweetheart,” he cooed, voice low, soft. “What’s wrong? Why d’you look like you’re gonna cry? Is it… I’m sorry, I really am glad you’re back. I missed you a ton. Like, enough that Harrington, of all people, started pitying me.”

A bubble of laughter, combined with a sort of cry of relief, escaped as you shook your head. “I know,” you promised him, certain of the fact. “I missed you, too. It’s not that. It’s stupid.” Your laughter sounded brittle, forced, and you hoped that Eddie would drop it as you tilted your head to hide from his scrutiny. “I’m just glad to be home.”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth curved into a frown, deep and concerned, as he lifted his hands to cup your cheeks. With gentle pressure, he tilted your head - warm eyes focused as he searched for any clue as to what was bothering you. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid,” he reminded you, tone gentle as his eyes flickered to yours. “Is it… is whatever’s wrong why you’re home early?”

Eddie knew you, knew that you wouldn’t have skipped class just because there wasn’t much going on. Still, you’d hoped he would be too distracted to really question it. There was really no way to admit your concern without sounding paranoid or controlling - he didn’t have to call you every day, there was no need for you to know what he was up to - and you felt an embarrassed heat creep up your neck as you shook your head.

“I just…” Eddie waited patiently, thumbs brushing along the apples of your cheeks, for you to wade through the syrupy slow thoughts rolling around. It wasn’t easy, finding the words that you wanted to say, so you settled for an honest sigh. “I was worried, I guess.”

“Worried? About what?” When you blinked, lips pulling into a thin line as you desperately hoped Eddie wouldn’t be able to read your concern - that this time, he would chalk it up to an exam or a fight with a friend or your parents - and avoided his gaze, his frown deepened. The hand cupping your cheek stilled, warm metal of his rings pressed to your jaw, as he asked, “Sweetheart, were you worried about me?”

Eddie could read you like a well-loved book, saw right through the embarrassed heat of your skin and the way you worried your bottom lip with your teeth. He could tell, immediately, that he was right and saw the fire in your eyes as he took a step closer.

“A little.” The admission was quiet, whispered into the sanctuary of Eddie’s bedroom, but he heard it, anyway.

The warmth of his body enveloped you as his arms fell to your waist, and you wasted no time wrapping yours around his neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, curls loose and frizzy from running his fingers through them repeatedly, and you tugged slightly - just to remind yourself that he was there.

“I know it’s silly,” you began, words muffled against his chest, “it’s just been, like, a week since I’ve heard from you.” You swallowed, blinked back the tears threatening to fall - a dizzying mixture of frustration and relief, embarrassment and love - and shook your head. “I’ve been calling but you never called back and that’s fine,” you added quickly, words stumbling past your lips a little too fast as everything you’d been worried about tumbled into the open. “I don’t expect you to, like, wait by the phone for me to call or whatever. I just… I was worried something had happened.”

“Shit.”

Eddie exhaled heavily at the tears lining your lashes, held you a little tighter as your breathing trembled, and smoothed his hands over your back. Blunt nails dragged carefully across the cotton of your shirt as he tried to calm the residual worry that still prickled at your skin.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled, voice muffled as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “I got distracted, lost track of time.” It was a soft admission, a little embarrassed on his part, lost against your skin as he pressed another soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ve been trying to learn chords,” he explained sheepishly, lips twisting in a rueful grin. “I didn’t even… Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Warm brown eyes glittered with unshed tears as Eddie lifted his head just enough to meet yours. Your heart still beat a little too fast and your breathing remained a little too shallow as your fingers wrapped in the cotton of his shirt but he understood. He leaned in, pressed another kiss to your heated skin - this one to your temple - and you nodded.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, voice soft in the still of the room. “I figured… Whatever happened, I figured you were just distracted. I knew Wayne would call, if… I just have an overactive imagination, I guess,” you admitted, fingers soft as you traced the black ink etched into his bicep. “If something happened and I wasn’t here… I don’t know.” You turned your head, buried your face in the soft fabric of his well-loved shirt, and mumbled, “I’mm just glad you’re okay.”

Eddie pressed another kiss, this one a little firmer, to the crown of your head and lingered for a moment. “I’m okay,” he assured you, voice strong, “and I’m not goin’ anywhere.” The declaration was certain, weighed heavy on your shoulders and warmed your body pleasantly from within, as he wrapped his arms tighter around your middle. Eddie held you as close as he could manage, heat from his body and scent of him overwhelming your frazzled nerves. “You’re not gettin’ rid of me that easy, sweetheart.”

A sniffle escaped as a final tear rolled down your cheek, escaped your harsh blinking, but calloused fingers were quick to wipe it away. Glittering brown eyes met yours, worried but warm - grateful and glowing, glad to feel the weight of your love; guilty and apologetic, regretful at making you panic - and you smiled a watery smile. “Good. I’m kind of attached to you, Munson. Seeing as I love you and all.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s assurance was worth its weight in gold, made your body feel a little lighter - soul a little brighter - every time he uttered those three little words. They meant more to you than he knew, made you happier than he could ever imagine, and knowing that he wanted to continue uttering them calmed the still unsteady thump of your heartbeat.

The words lingered in the air for a moment, quiet and warm - both of you wrapped in the comforting embrace of your love, you developed by the steady thump of his heart and even rise and fall of his chest. It cast a quiet spell over you, eased your heart, and was only enhanced by Eddie’s quiet, “Wanna hear how it’s coming so far?”

Anyone else would’ve considered the moment broken, shattered into a thousand little pieces, but as you lifted your head to study his bright smile, you knew better.

Instead of huffing, sighing or complaining - harping on the fear you felt, the fact that he’d disappeared for a week to teach himself the chords to a brand new Metallica song - you shifted just enough for him to see you smile. The offer was designed to ease the tension, a way to make you smile after the panic you’d felt, and it worked.

Quiet puffs of laughter escaped, broke free from your chest in a surprised snap, and Eddie looked pleased as you nodded. “Show me what you’ve got, rockstar.”

Eddie tipped his head, leaned in to press a soft kiss to your mouth - tasted the cherry chapstick on your lips, the mint of your gum - before pulling away with a grin that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I love you.”

“I know.” When he rolled his eyes, unamused by the Star Wars reference, you giggled and gestured for him to pick up his guitar. “I love you, too, Eds. So much.”

As the unmistakable chords of Master of Puppets filled the silence, marked by the few gaps Eddie had yet to figure out - he was transcribing it all by hand, picking it apart by ear and painstakingly teaching himself, after all - you were struck with an overwhelming warmth.

Though he’d gone radio silent, he’d spent the week lost in the throes of a passion that meant the world to him. He never meant to avoid you, never meant to worry you, and you could see that as he spared you sideways glances every few moments.

With the strum of his guitar in the background, you realized that there were a few facts that defined your relationship with Eddie Munson - he had a habit of not answering the phone, had a habit of losing track of time, was prone to bouts of impulsivity - but the most important fact, the one that mattered the most, was that he loved you.

_______________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I was the only one in my office today and I swear I’m going to hear a phone ringing in my dreams. Anyway, this was absolutely inspired by that Reddit post about him only having two weeks to learn Master of Puppets. Eddie’s a good boyfriend, I just thing he has ADHD and would get distracted/fixated super easily. Anyway. No one asked for this but I’ve been anxious so have this.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff

If you’re not tagged, it’s because Tumblr wouldn’t let me!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #v's fics

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