#and i shut the door in front of 5 people when they still had 10 mins left to wait for our parents to arrive to pick them up

[aaagustd]

room for two | jjk: prologue

a series from the "Misfit Parent Collection"

⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon

title: room for two

pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader

genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+

summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 

Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 

release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est

note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!

series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3

One year ago.

The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 

Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 

His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 

When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.

If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 

Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.

Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 

Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.

Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 

Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.

Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.

Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 

Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.

"Coward!"

He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.

Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.

With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.

So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 

A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.

He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 

Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.

Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.

He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 

He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.

Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.

He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.

Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.

He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 

Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.

The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.

"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.

With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 

While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.

Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…

His assistant?

The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.

6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?

He doesn't have to.

Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 

He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.

Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 

Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.

7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few

After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.

"Tab or no?"

"No, love. That's it for me.."

He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.

"Keep what's left," he insists.

She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.

As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.

"What the—"

"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.

She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.

"She's trying, but…"

Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.

"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"

She declines.

"It's on me, sweetheart."

Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.

Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.

He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.

The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."

The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—

His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

Once again, the number is unknown. 

Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.

Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.

"Hello?"

"Hi, son."

Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 

"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"

He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.

"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 

He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.

"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"

"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."

There's a pause.

There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.

"He's dead."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

[chappellrroan]

this house is so fun when it's just us kids and no parents

#we have every level of fucked up and just one sane individual #one earning elder #3 of us planning run away and planning out our future trips #the eldest plays with the youngest #we talk about serious issues but then there are two of them insulting each other on how they look #while the other is praising them both because obviously they both look pretty #they'll get you anything you ask for just because you're sick #and sick I can't move much i get called queen and malkini sarcastically #i literally got my 3rd heat pack heated from them #and now finally i can rest after everyone has left snd I've locked the doors #oh also i still have to complain that this idiot brought his shoes in to tie like bhai ye america nahi hai tere jhoote ghar ke andar kaise #main tujhe unke saath bahar phek dungi #and i shut the door in front of 5 people when they still had 10 mins left to wait for our parents to arrive to pick them up #and now i am suddenly in good mood which ik will be ruined in few hours when dad comes home rip ig

[f1fnatic]

100 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU ⤿ l. norris 4

→ ( in which. . . ) it is your and lando's 4 year anniversary and as a gift, you give him a journal of 100 entries of moments during your relationship, here are some of lando's favorite moments.

→ ( type of fanfic. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) lando norris x sainz!reader (gender not specified

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) this is coming from lando's pov, jumps from 2022-2024 at the end

→ ( author's note. . . ) this is my first time with a short summary type of fic, i hope you enjoy! see the end for more

→ ( masterlist )

→ 12/5/2019, the day we first met

it was my first time in the f1 paddock and carlos had invited me to the spanish gp. you accidentally bumped into me, which caused my piping hot, freshly brewed espresso to spill all over the front of my blouse. you apologized briefly before running off to do whatever media duty you had for that day. later, after the grand prix was over, carlos made you apologize the right way and made you buy me a new shirt. p.s that shirt is one of my favorites :)

→ 24/10/2019, the day we hung out 1 on 1 for the first time

we went to lunch and then found this quaint drive-in movie on the outskirts of monaco. they were playing my favorite summer-time movie, grease. i got to see a different side of you that day. you didn't have carlos to bounce off of, it was sweet to see you for you. your presence was so comforting to me. you were so relaxed and laid back. you fell asleep in my lap and that was when your worries truly melted away. i was very giddy after you left, it just so happened to be the first time my heart fluttered at the thought of you. p.s.s sorry for quating grease so much

→ 31/12/2020, new years eve

the day you kissed me for the first time. at first, i was surprised and thought the alcohol was making you act brash and forward. but after you didn't move away, i knew it was on purpose. i do not know what i could have done if you didn't kiss me. carlos got this picture of us and it has become one of my favorites. it marks such an important milestone in our relationship.

→ 23/3/2020, lockdown

when the uk officially shut down their borders and went into lockdown. monaco had shut theirs down a month prior, so i came to live with you until i couldn't anymore. it was hard, i didn't want to leave you and go back to monaco. we were still figuring out if we wanted to be in a relationship and i knew that the time apart would be difficult to navigate. so much uncertainty and change. it helped us grow into the people we are now <3

→ 31/8/2020, the day you asked me to be your partner

it also just so happened to be my birthday. we had been facetiming almost every day/night. i was watching every single grand prix to show my undying support for you. your unofficial home grand prix the day before had gone well, and i remember being so proud of you. you woke me up by surprising me at my apartment door in monaco with a bouquet of my favorite flowers, as well as my favorite snacks. i couldn't help but cry, but then you asked one of the most important questions ever, and obviously i said yes!

→ 8/31/2021, our 1 year anniversary

wow, i could not believe that we had been together for 365 days. one full orbit of the earth around the sun. you yourself are my sun, lando. the light of my life. that night you surprised me with a high-end massage since we were still in lockdown. you do not know how much i appreciated that, work had made me so stressed. it was wonderful to relax. i remember you being upset because we couldn't spend it together and promised that we would never spend another anniversary apart, and so far, you have.

→ 4/1/2022, when i asked you to move in with me

everything leading up to the moment i asked you was so nerve-wracking that i was trying not to have an anxiety attack. i was so scared that you weren't going to say yes, but, obviously you did. once you moved in, my apartment finally felt like a home. it felt so full with you. the happiness that would run through my veins when i saw that your things were next to mine. your clothes next to mine in the closet, our coffee mugs side by side on the countertop, and our shoes piled next to the door, waiting for us to go out together. that was and still is one of my happiest memories <3

→ 14/2/2022, valentines day

our first valentines together in person as a couple! we had such a beautiful ocean view breakfast that you surpirsed me with (it was delicious btw) and then later that night, you took me to dinner and had max decorate our bedroom while we were out. have it on record that that was my favorite night ever ;)

→ 1/7/2022, our first grand prix as a couple

this just so happened to be the day that we confirmed we were dating!! it was such a weight lifted off of my shoulders to finally be able to call you mine in public. the fans were so supportive. i felt so much pride to be able to wear a jersey with your name on it. that whole weekend was bliss.

→ 31/8/2024 our 4 year anniversary

today. that's all i have to say. today has been the best day and everything i could ask for. today you surprised me with the biggest question of my life. today you asked me to marry you. and, without any hesitation, i said yes. of course, i would say yes. lando, you are the best thing to have ever happen to me. you are my world, my everything, my star in a field of black. you have brought such happiness into my life that i can't even BEGIN to describe. i am so unbelievably happy that you bumped into me that fateful day in the mclaren paddock. if you hadn't, who knows where we would be. i love you so much lan, here is to 4 years and so many more.

woww two posts in the span of a week what is happening... i was deciding to add pictures but i could not find any good ones that made sense for the entries. anyways, requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

#+*. 🗃️f1fnatic's archives - +*. #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 2023 #formula one #formula one imagine #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #blurb #f1 fluff #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando fluff

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

I’m the devil

Summary: So you told Wanda your secret and you realised the intense feelings you had for the woman, hopefully she reciprocated them

Warnings: Minors DNI, feelings, and a little sappiness from both sides

Words: 2,700 (I think)

A/n: not proofread properly, I’m tired 😂

Part 1 here

Flashback

You were bored, plain and simple, bored and horny? You couldn’t tell anymore but what you did know was that being the devil on earth wasn’t nearly as fun as you thought it would be

“Nat what’s on the agenda for today?” You spun your chair to your red headed demon pal who just shrugged “I’m not your assistant”

“But you are the greatest demon assistant in the entire world!” You grinned wide at the woman who just threw her muffin at you “hey that was $7! Don’t throw expensive food”

“You-

“Wait! Shut up for 5 minutes, I found her” you pointed her towards the other side of the road where a young woman was walking to what looked like an apartment complex

“She looks weak Y/n what do you want with her? Surely just take the brother for the debt instead?”

“I tried that but they offered her up so easily, ‘take our daughter please’ don’t take our son he’s the favourite’ pathetic actually, yep just give up your young daughter to the devil, she is very pretty though, which makes this all the better, now come on I don’t have all day”

“Yes boss”

End of flashback

“That was amazing!” Carol lay back on the couch satisfied and happy “you’re way too preppy for a demon sometimes Carol, anyway I’ve go to go, can you carry on with manning the young demons while I do something”

Carol sat up pouting “can’t we cuddle?”

You scoffed “what are we, 10? I’m not cuddling you we have jobs to do, now get out I’m bringing Wanda back through here and you scare her”

“Scare her? She’s a dirty human she doesn’t matter here”

You stopped in your tracks turning back to Carol and giving her a hard glare “Carol I won’t hesitate to send you back to hell and clean up after the demon dogs”

Your threat made Carol sink back into the couch “sorry, I’ll go”

You nodded “good” leaving her alone you straightened yourself checking your phone “only been an hour, she can’t have done much damage”

You walked back through the place and to your art studio unlocking the door finding Wanda still sat where she was but now painting a sunset? It looked like that anyway, it looked beautiful that’s what you definitely knew

“I didn’t try to run away” we’re the first words out of her mouth and you had to laugh “obviously you couldn’t escape Wanda, because of you did the rest of the gang would’ve gotten you first, now come on I’m getting you some dinner”

“What are you?” It was an innocent enough question but not something you wanted to discuss on the first day, or did you? Maybe she’d listen to you, maybe submit to you? Women like bad girls right?

You simply smiled “do you really want to know?”

Wanda wasn’t too sure anymore, why were you being so cryptic “I do…I think”

You sat down in front of Wanda and took a hold of her hands “you’re not stupid, you know there’s supernatural beings on earth don’t you?”

She nodded “it’s a little strange but yeah I do know that”

You continued “okay so there’s the devil, they’re real too” Wanda rolled her eyes “pretty sure the devil can’t leave hell since he was banished there”

“So you think the devil’s a man? That doesn’t seem very feminist of you”

Wanda shrugged “god’s a man and so is the devil, that’s what we learnt at home, but either way I don’t think they’d come to earth”

You chuckled pulling Wanda and her chair closer to you and keeping a tight grip on her hands knowing how people get when they see you properly

“What are yo-what the hell?! Wanda couldn’t move as she stared at your new appearance, horns protruding from your head and your skin a deep red, some small parts of your face were showing bone as of you were disintegrating and Wanda couldn’t help but stare intrigued and a little frightened

“Are you the devil?” Her voice whispered and you nodded “in the flesh, or most of it anyway”

“Why are you on earth?” Wanda whispered still admiring your face and horns “truthfully I got bored of overseeing the tortured souls and demons of hell, and in typical fashion when one comes to New York I set up a loaning business, then bought a night club”

Wanda raised her eyebrow in question “you mean LUX? The place that moved here from LA?”

You laughed “the very same, keeping tabs on me?”

“No I remembered my parents saying they’d like to go in an- oh”

“Oh?”

Wanda removed her hands from yours and stood up “my parents went into your club and now they owe money but instead gave you me”

You changed back to your human self standing up with Wanda making her look at you, the small amount of times you met her parents you thought they were pieces of shit “I’ll be honest Wanda I wanted to take your brother, hell the debt isn’t even that high and they could’ve payed it easily but they offered you up so quickly, tell me why”

Wanda didn’t notice herself crying again, she hated how much she was doing that lately, when you wiped her tears away she pushed herself from you “my brother is the favourite and always will be, it’s just something I have to live with”

You didn’t push her, you’d deal with the family later, humans were horrible creatures sometimes, you wondered why god even made them “okay, now that all that’s over with, how about some dinner? To lighten the mood”

“Can you even eat?” That made her laugh a little and you rolled your eyes happy to see her laughing “yes you weirdo I can eat, now what do you want?”

Wanda thought about it “Chinese?”

“Okay I’ll send Nat out for some”

Wanda sucked in a breath “she scares me”

You laughed “yeah she is scary, but she’s harmless, well to me anyway she won’t dare question me”

“Is she something different too?”

Something different? Yeah definitely how you’d describe Natasha “she’s a demon, my right hand demon basically, she enjoys scaring people, she won’t apologise for pointing a gun at you so probably best to just pretend it never happened”

“Okay”

“Okay, wait here for me, continue your nice painting” your turned her back to her canvas “maybe a few birds to liven the picture up yeah?”

Wanda smiled “yeah and a deer too”

**************************************************

“Nat! Need you to go out for me” you found her doing what she does best, kissing Maria against a wall in public like the exhibitionist she is

“You’re such a cockblock I swear to god” Nat groaned pulling herself away from Maria who just laughed “don’t swear to her dad Nat that’s weird”

“Damn right it is Maria, now Nat go and get my usual from the Chinese place, Wanda needs food and I don’t want to get it myself”

Maria pushed Nat gently and placed her hands on your shoulders “are you falling for the human?”

Your eyes widened “absolutely not! But I’m hungry and obviously she’ll need food too, like I told Nat I’ll break her starting tomorrow, I’m obviously luring her into a false sense of security and comfort, gosh why are you two so annoying about it?!”

Maria eyed you for a few moments before releasing you “how about both Nat and I go and get the food and we join you? Make it a cozy dinner between the devil, her human and two of your favourite demons?”

You sighed looking between her and Nat “fine! But Nat leave your gun it scars Wanda”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear any argument from Nat instead going back to your art room where Wanda was just finishing her picture with a couple of deer surrounded by cute robins “that looks amazing Wanda, when it dries we’ll hang it up somewhere, now come on Nat and Maria are getting the food”

“Were you mad when I kissed you?” Why was she full of questions? Why were humans so inquisitive? “You realised I marked your neck don’t you? When you kissed me I would’ve put you on the table and showed you the time of your life, unfortunately stabbing me really kills the mood unless you have a blood kink but I have a feeling that’s not you”

Wanda’s blush was adorable to you, she definitely wasn’t into that stuff, ah well you’d have to do other things together

“No no I don’t like things like that, so anyway you want me then? This whole assistant thing isn’t real and you just want to sleep with me?”

How could you tell her that while you were watching her before taking her, you’d become obsessed with her, she was just adorable, and you were so glad her parents offered her up, you’d wanted her for weeks

You were silent for a while before walking towards Wanda kissing her as soft as the devil could, gently cupping her face as you pulled away looking into her eyes “I hate how much I’m falling for you in such a short period of time, you’re a 3rd place ribbon when I deserve my first place prize money, but I think I prefer this ribbon”

It was her that kissed you this time closing the small gap, a slow kiss but a nice one nonetheless, pulling away you were still cupping her face and her hands were holding your waist, you both enjoyed this comfortable silence when a cough interrupted you making you both jump

“Interesting, the devil and a human? I think this happened once before didn’t it? She died right?”

You turned around keeping Wanda close behind you not letting the man get a glance at her “Tony to what do I owe this awful pleasure?”

“Your strippers at the club miss you, they don’t have anyone to show their moves on anymore, maybe you should go and help them” he laughed but instead of responding how you really wanted to and hit him across the face with fire you simply smiled “very interesting Tony I will look into it and now if you will please leave me and my friend alone”

He looked slightly taken aback, you normally fought back and hard when he turned up, interesting he’d have to remember that “okay well I’ll see you later at the club Y/n, young human hope you have a nice night”

He left without another word and your whole body relaxed, you felt Wanda move around and stand in front of you “strippers?”

You shook your head “they’re not strippers, we have dancers at the club and I’m in charge of making sure they’re okay and if they need anything, nothing seedy”

Wanda laughed “it doesn’t matter, you’re the devil I know you’re probably not a monogamous being” she kissed your cheek and headed for the door waiting for you

You quickly followed her and when she tried to open the door you slammed it shut leaning your body close into her and whispering into her ear “no, no you’re mine and you won’t be treated like some second rate prostitute, this little emotional talk we had where I told you how I feel won’t happen again if you’re not going to take it seriously, got it?”

Wanda was generally stunned in that moment, your eyes turned to their dark red and she didn’t know what to say “I- I I’m sorry” she whispered looking down avoiding your harsh gaze

“Look at me pretty girl” she did so and you offered her a small smile “my pretty assistant, you need to eat, now come on” you kissed her forehead softly manoeuvring you both and leaving the room

Wanda was still a little nervous but relaxed a little when she felt your hand in her own walking through the house, what a fun time she was having, at least she had a partner? Right? Sure let’s call it that

*************************************************

Nat had brought the food you wanted but decided she wanted to sleep with her girlfriend instead of eating with the two of you

“I hope you like Chinese food, I know humans eat anything but they’ve become vegetarian or that vegan thing, I gotta tell you none of it matters, when they come to hell they’ll get raw meat for the rest of eternity”

Wanda took one of the boxes and examining it “I’m not a vegan or vegetarian so it’s okay” she went to sit down at the table but you redirected her “you sit on the table in front of me, cozy”

“Okay”

You sat down with Wanda sat on the table, eating in silence for a while before Wanda stretched her neck “could I sit somewhere properly? My back and neck are getting sore”

“Come here” she shuffled off the table into your arms in a comfortable hug on your lap “are you sleepy honey?”

“Hmm” she hummed letting herself fall asleep in your hold “I’ll take that as a yes” you chuckled to yourself stroking her back in a soothing manner, staying in this position for a while you began closing your eyes drifting off but the door opened and in quickly came Carol

“Y/n! What are you doing?!”

Your father was testing you, you were absolutely being tested and your patience was wearing so fucking thin

You refused to open your eyes but did respond to the shrieking demon “Carol you don’t have to be here so why are you here?”

You sensed another figure enter the room and groaned knowing full well who it was “oh here she is, the king of hell, still trying to take over my domain?”

The woman chuckled settling in the chair next to yours reaching her hand out to touch Wanda’s shoulder making her jolt awake “hi pretty girl, are you okay?”

Wanda glanced up at you seemingly asking for help which you did pulling yourself and Wanda away from the table “If you don’t mind Valkyrie Wanda and I are going to go and get some rest, send my regards to Thor and Loki”

The woman nodded “and what about Hela?”

“Tell her to go fuck herself”

**********************************************

“Here we are my little human” you gently placed Wanda on the new bed and she looked around suspiciously “this isn’t the room i was in earlier?”

“No this is my room, I told you you’re mine, so you’ll never leave my side and this bed is very comfortable”

Wanda sat herself up on the edge of the bed looking around at the minimal decoration around the room “there isn’t much stuff in here”

You hummed turning to your closet removing your blazer “I’m only here at night so I feel no need for sentimental possessions” you finished removing your blazer and just about finished taking your shirt off when you heard Wanda gasp

“Are you okay over there Wanda? Never seen a woman shirtless before?” Chuckling to yourself you didn’t notice Wanda staring at the side of your ribs “what happened to your ribs?”

You looked down realising just how dark your large bruising was “oh yeah I forgot about that, it’s just something from the other day, it doesn’t hurt”

Before you could do anything else Wanda came towards you touching the bruising and you suddenly felt pain and winced “doesn’t hurt? Why’d you flinch?”

You pulled away sharply from her touch “it never hurts, I’m the devil nothing hurts me, how’d you do that?”

Wanda stepped backwards from you scared you were really mad at her “I-I didn’t do anything! I promise!”

“Okay okay let’s just calm down, it’s fine maybe I’m just tired” your gaze landed on a scared looking Wanda and your heart sank, even though it didn’t really work obviously something in you broke

“Hey I promise it’s okay, I am the devil Wanda only god can really hurt me and he’s not gonna do that since he’ll have to look over hell if he does”

Wanda nodded and started playing with her hands, a nervous habit you noticed her doing once in the day “do you need any sleepwear or do you sleep naked?”

The sudden change in conversation made Wanda a little less nervous “erm I think I’d prefer some sleepwear”

You shrugged “suit yourself, here you go” you threw her a shirt that you wore earlier in the day and Wanda looked it over “you want me to wear your top? Like a conquest trophy?”

“Have I not already conquered you?” You disappeared into your closet for a moment and reappearing in a shirt top and boxers?

“Are you wearing boxers? Aren’t they for men?” Wanda had quickly changed into the top you threw her and got under the covers as to keep her modesty

“Clothes aren’t gender orientated Wanda and I like my boxers” you climbed in bed next to her bringing her close to you

“We have a quiet day tomorrow, maybe I’ll get you a cute collar to match your hair” she turned to face you snuggling into your neck “I’m still really really confused about everything and I’m scared”

You let her mould herself into you and felt her heart rate slow as she let sleep take over her body “I’ll take care of you Wanda, you’ll never have to work or worry about anything ever again I promise”

***************************************

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #marvel au #marvel imagine #the devil and

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 11 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt.11

AN: Another one <3 She is very game orientated and action heavy. Bare with me babes! For the plot!

Synopsis: Closely follows the “Kill or Capture” mission from mw2 (reboot). Rights to the game developers <3 Word count: 2.5k Warnings: Canon divergence, canon-typical violence, military shit, guns, explosions etc.  Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign: Rags)

Not proof-read (sorry!)

✧˚ · .

Missions came and went and you slowly but surely found yourself shaking the nerves you had returning to active duty. Trainings and drills were back full force and each night you returned to your room with aching limbs. Ghost and you had returned to the unspoken routine of drinking tea in the small hours of the morning. The Lieutenant had come to relax considerably around you and was less stoic; his replies during conversation longer and more detailed than they had ever been. 

“There’s a briefing tomorrow.” He’d begun starting conversation more too, rather than waiting for you to break the silence. 

“Oh?” You reply, not looking up; eyes skimming the pages of the book in your lap. “What about?”

When he doesn’t respond you frown, closing the book and meeting his gaze. His look is undecipherable, cobalt eyes stern. “Him.”

You narrow your eyes, confused. “Him?”

“Makarov.” The name is spat from his mouth like he’d swallowed something bitter. 

“A new lead?” The team hadn’t had one in months. 

Ghost nods, playing with the string of his teabag. “Price think’s it’s solid – Laswell too.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, shutting the book and sitting up from where you’d been laying on the couch. You eye the Lieutenant cautiously, “I’ll know tomorrow won’t I?”

The man sighs, dropping his gaze to the table where he runs his finger over a dent. “Jus’ wanted to give you a warnin’.”

You can’t help but smile. This man. Simultaneously one of the most intimidating and softest you’d ever met. “Oh well,” you clear your throat, standing and moving to drop your now-empty mug into the sink, “thank you for letting me know.”

✧˚ · .

The briefing room has been rearranged so Laswell can video call in, you slide into an empty chair next to Soap who slings his arm across the back of it, allowing you to see past his broad chest. 

“Do ya ken what this is about?” He whispers to you as Price closes the door, you nudge him with your elbow; shushing him as the Captain starts to speak.

“Mornin’, Kate,” the man speaks to the woman on the screen.

“Morning John,” she nods back, acknowledging those behind him, “team.”

A few people murmur a hello, Ghost, who stands against the wall with his arms crossed, nods with a grunt. 

“Alright, assuming no one has breached our confidence, you all don’t know what this is about.”

You flick a glance at Ghost, he doesn’t even blink; watching Laswell with a blank expression. 

“We received intel just over 24 hours ago regarding the whereabouts of Vladimir Makarov – commander of the Russian PMC Konni Group and associate of the ultranationalist political party.” She types something into her laptop and a grainy image appears onscreen. You grit your teeth, ignoring the way Gaz and Soap look your way. 

“Though we belief the intel to be solid, it is too risky to make a move till we can figure out his intentions.” 

You swallow, almost relieved you won’t have to face the man behind your still-healing scars just yet. 

Price steps forward, “We thought you all had the right to an update considering recent events.” His eyes dart to yours before turning to the laptop in front of him.

“Instead we have orders from the General – a new HVT.” He hits a key and Laswell is moved to the side, images which can only be of the aftermath of a missile strike take over the screen. “Following our strikes against the Russian-backed Iranian forces and the recent assassination of Iranian General Ghorbrani a new player has emerged – Hassan Zyani.”

This portrait is less pixelated than the last, strong brows and a salt-and-pepper beard soften his sharp features. He doesn’t look like a murderer – though you suppose the dangerous ones never do. 

“We believe he has begun funding terrorist activity in an attempt to seek revenge on the United States for the strike which killed Ghorbrani, Shepherd wants as us to put a stop to it before it starts.”

✧˚ · .

You aren’t surprised Laswell doesn’t have much intel on Makarov. He’d only been known to Price and 141 for a short while before your capture. His motives were unclear – a grudge against Price was not a strong enough factor to kidnap and torture an SAS operative on an multinational special operations unit. It was as though he had used your capture to test something – though you weren’t sure what. 

“Wheels up in ten.” A voice interrupts your train of thought and you look up to see Ghost, decked out in his tactical gear. It’s odd seeing him in the kitchen, a place you’d only really ever seen him enter in more casual clothing.

“Thanks LT.” You reply, stuffing a handful of camomile teabags into your empty pocket. Though you drink them when you can on mission, it’d become more of a good luck charm for you to always have tea with you.

Though he’s wearing his hard-shell mask, you can tell the Lieutenant is raising an eyebrow at you. You brush past him, fiddling with the zipper on your pocket. “You coming?”

You swear you hear him breathe out a laugh as he follows you out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the tarmac. 

“I’m starting to think I need to carry out uniform inspections.” Ghost says, reaching over you to hold the door back. Wind tousles your hair as you step outside – the blades of the helicopter already spinning. 

You cast a look at him over your shoulder in disbelief only to find his eyes creased teasingly. You scoff, hitting him softly with your glove – not yet on your hand. “Cigarettes aren’t standard issue either, LT. Cigars too – Captain wouldn’t be too happy.”

If he replies you don’t hear him, the roar of the chopper drowning everything out. Soap’s waiting by the door and you give him a pat on the shoulder as you clamber into the heli. 

You’re being sent to Al Mazrah – the last known location of Hassan. It’s a short chopper ride to an airfield nearby and then a bumpy few hours in the metal belly of a military plane.

 ✧˚ · .

“All shooters have execute authority, but we want Hassan alive for interrogation.” Laswell’s voice echoes in your head, “And be advised, Major Hassan is A.Q.’s lifeline – if he is there, they will die for him.”

You, Ghost and Soap are running point on the mission with a group of MARSOC Marines ordered by Laswell to assist. A rough landing and a rushed briefing later and you’re in a chopper heading for the field. 

“Bravo team offloads here.” Ghost calls over the roar of the helicopter as it lowers to the ground, the red light casting an ominous glow as he marches through the hull of the chopper. “Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.”

You’re on Alpha team, Ghost gives you a single nod and Soap bumps your fist as they exit the heli. 

“Keep up, Soap.” The Lieutenant growls and Soap gives you a grin before following suit. 

The ramp closes behind and your friends are out of sight. The helicopter shakes and flares light up the sky. You make your way to the cockpit, the pilot is yelling into the comms.

“Incoming – Flares! Flares!”

The whole chopper jolts to the side and you just manage to hear someone over the radio scream “second missle!” when the world explodes around you. Fire and metal and smoke consumes you as the heli careens towards the ground. You dive forwards into the cockpit further, heart racing.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot calls and the vehicle meets the ground with a sickening screech. 

Not a single limb escapes the impact and flames sear into your vision. Something is buzzing in your ear and you hack out a cough, raising a hand to the comms.

“Alpha what’s your status?!” Ghost growls in your ear and through the haze you can hear the panic. “Alpha, how copy?”

You crane your neck, taking a quick inventory of the bodies strewn around – some still, some moving. 

“Bravo,” you manage to rasp, lungs burning. You lean over the pilot, fingers pressed under his jaw and against his neck. “Alpha is immobile. Multiple critical!”

Glass sprays as bullets spew in your direction, you lunge to the ground, swearing. 

“Shit!” You swear, comms still on. “We’re taking effective fire here, LT!”

You can hear Ghost swear back, “Alpha, we’re moving to building 1. Hold tight!”

You grit your teeth, you know he can’t just rush over to your aid. The priority is Hassan. You can hear Soap argue in the background but Ghost shuts him down. 

“Roger that, LT.” You reply, ducking as another round is sent your way. You fling a flash-bang back before popping up and returning fire.

You turn around, a young marine called “Red” has managed to pull the wounded inside and flagged the dead. You continue providing cover as he works. It’s dark out but the flames fuck with your night vision. The enemy has the advantage. You take aim at a small group in the treeline, gasping when a single bullet burrows into your shoulder. Pain flares and the impact sends you into the control panel.

“Fuckin’ sniper,” you warn the other soldiers as you push yourself up, “watch it, we’re sitting ducks here.”

“Affirmative.” One replies, from where he crouches near the now-lowered ramp.

“Alpha 0-2, Bravo 0-7.” Ghost crackles through your earpiece and you almost sigh with relief. 

“Tell me you’ve got some good news for me, LT.” 

“Building two secure,” he says by way of assurance, “We’re coming for you.”

“Roger,” you respond, signalling to the marine by the ramp to hold his fire. “Ramp’s down – we’re waiting for you.”

You stumble over to the man kneeling amongst the bodies, holding your shoulder as the figures of Ghost and Soap enter the heli. “What’s the total, Red?”

“We got five KIA and one wounded, not including you,” the soldier says, stumbling to his feet.

“Including you?” Ghost asks, as he and Soap come to stand in front of you. 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, we need to move him though.” You say, pointing at the wounded soldier.

Ghost shakes his head, eyeing the window, gun raised. “No time. They’re here. Get your gun on that treeline.”

You catch some ammo Soap throws your way. “I’ve had my fucking gun on that treeline the whole time, there’s too many.”

Bullets ping off the hull of the heli and you return fire, struggling to see through the haze of the flames, your shoulder burning.

“Got movement.” Soap calls from your right, squinting through his scope.

“Engage!” Ghost responds, firing rounds at the figures moving through the trees.

You spot movement and move your scope to get a closer look. “Shooters at the wall!” You warn.

“You fuckin’ called it, LT.” Soap says, swearing as he ducks to reload. 

The smokey haze is impossible to penetrate and you pull your night vision visor back just as a projectile soars in your direction. 

“RPG!” Red yells, the warning useless as your very bones vibrate as it explodes agains the side of the heli. An arm wraps under yours, pulling you to your feet.

“Gun up, Rags.” He says roughly, already raising his gun. “They’re getting close!”

Your wound throbs as the butt of your rifle returns to your shoulder but you make quick work of a group of hostiles running towards the chopper. 

“We clear?” Soap asks after what seems like hours but is only mere minutes.

Ghost squints through his scope, the gunfire has ceased but flares roar. “For now,” he raises an hand to his ear, “7-6, call for fire. I want air on that treeline.“

He turns to you, “Air-support’s three minutes out. Stay sharp.”

The wreckage shakes with a loud thrum and you stumble into Ghost. He rights you, raising his gun. 

“They’re launching fucking grenades!” You cry, mirroring your Lieutenant, reloading and picking off the hostiles before they can launch more.  

Out of the corner of your eye you see a man fall to the ground. “Red’s hit! Man down!”

Ghost steps in front of you are you make for the marine. “He’s dead. Keep your gun up, Sergeant.”

Tears burn in your eyes. He was so young. 

You force yourself to ignore Red’s body as you take up his position by the ramp.

“Ghost, we should fall back to the house,” you hear Soap call over the bullets and explosions.

“Negative.” is the Lieutenants gruff response, “We clear this position and push hard. If Hassan’s still here, he’s out ahead.”

✧˚ · .

“LT, I spot armoured vehicles! There’s four of them!” A marine from Bravo team calls out.

“Conserve your ammo,” the Lieutenant calls back, “Let ‘em get close.”

The comms crackle, notifying you of incoming air-support.  You send back an affirmative, tensing against Ghost who crouches next to you as the vehicles are cleared – the heat of the explosion flaring as the heli rocks,

He pats you once on the shoulder and you wince. He doesn’t notice, gesturing you to follow and you quickly reload before moving after him. The rugged roads and graveyard of exploded vehicles soon morphs into fields and you flick your night vision visor back down, the light of the flames behind you. 

“There’s a sniper up ahead, Rags you take point.” Ghost calls as you run towards the second building. 

He grips your wrist for a second and you turn, gun poised away from him as you give him a questioning look. He gestures to a body on the right, a marine. Your heart sinks. You follow Ghosts hand and where he points to the rifle in the dead marine’s grip. 

He covers you as you sling your G3 across your back, prising the weapon from the mans grip. You quickly asses it for any damage and nod to Ghost – it’s in good shape. The Lieutenant follows, guarding your six as you squint through the scope. You can see a flash from the roof, something reflective is catching the flames from the distance. The sniper. Now knowing his position you find him immediately through your scope and take a deep breath before firing. The bullet zips through the air, the silencer giving a sharp huff of air. 

“Good shot there, Rags,” Soap clasps your shoulder and you flash him a grin. 

“Not just here to look pretty, mate.” You respond, moving towards the building, covering the squad from your vantage point. Air-support opens fire on the other side of the building and you take it was your chance to enter.  Now is the hard part – find Hassan dead or alive.

✧˚ · .

Taglist

@crosshairs773fp @alanalanalanalanalanna @ghostlythots @hyperfixationwhore @shinebright2000 @sae1kie @zozosrandomthings @hotaruteba @01trickster10 @karurururu @moonsua1 @rorel1a @http-paprika @thriving-n-jiving @lazybutsmexy

Reply if you want to be added :)

Masterlist

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod mw ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #141 x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x y/n #ghost x gn reader #ghost drinks camomile

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 14

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 11/29

Word Count: 7.3K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Friday afternoon rolled around and you were picking up your classroom. The chaos of the school week always left the room needing a little attention at the end but you were taking more time than usual. You busied yourself with organizing materials for the next week, tossing broken pencils that had been carelessly discarded on the floor, and wiping down the tops of the desks. For once, you were in no hurry to run out the door, knowing you were facing a long weekend alone once again. 

You’d effectively avoided everyone from the group since your shocking admission Tuesday night, mostly by not answering your phone any time that it rang. You knew your sister would be frantic if she’d been the one calling, but you couldn’t risk it. You didn’t need even more pity from more people again. And honestly, you could barely admit to yourself what a fool you’d been. How could you tell Kim that you’d let some jerk treat you like shit all over again? You couldn’t, not your strong, wise-ass sister who would never allow a man’s lies to get her into bed.

You wanted nothing more than to go back in time and keep your big mouth shut. In the heat of the moment, it felt good to call him out on his bullshit. He deserved every single ounce of your anger and then some for treating you the way he had. You weren't some tissue to be used and discarded in the trash. But once you’d gotten back to your house, riding your bike through the haze of angry tears that coated your eyes, you’d been horrified and ashamed at your public declaration. 

How would you ever look any of them in the eye again now that they knew you’d allowed Eddie to use you like that? That you’d been dumb enough to believe the pretty words that had come out of that pretty mouth. You should have known better. Of course he didn’t mean anything that he’d said. He’d told you exactly what you wanted to hear and you’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. He’d known you would be vulnerable to his charms after what Cam and Cassie had done and used it to his advantage. Once again, you had chosen to ignore the evidence in front of you in favor of what you wanted to believe instead. You’d wanted to believe he wanted you  truly wanted you, but all he wanted was to find out what you were like in the sack.

You looked up from the desk you had been scrubbing when there was a soft knock on the door to find Gareth standing there, a sheepish smile on his face, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, as he gave you a small wave. You straightened up, wondering what would have brought him to the school on a Friday afternoon. And why would he still assume you were here? Your thoughts took you nowhere good, hoping nothing had happened between Lance and Charlie after school.

“Hey,” he said, taking a hesitant step into the classroom, a gritted smile on his face, “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping by like this.”

“No, of course not. Is everything okay?” Your eyes moved over to the clock that hung to the left of the door. “School let out half an hour ago. Charlie made it home okay, right?”

“Yeah. He’s fine. He’s over on the playground with a couple of his friends and asked if he could play for a while before we headed home. It’s such a nice day so I figured why not and…” Gareth told you, stuffing both hands into his pockets now, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I uh…well, it worked for me because I was actually standing out there waiting for you to come out so I could talk to you but you never did. I wondered if I missed you. So, I figured I’d pop in and check.”

“Okay…” you said slowly, the hairs on the back of your neck rising in suspicion. If he wasn’t here about Charlie, then there was only one other reason you could come up with. A reason you had no desire to talk about. You tossed your rag on the table, propping your hip on top and folding your arms. “So, what did you need?”

“Uh…well…” Gareth ran a hand over the back of his neck, his face scrunching in a way that let you know he was pretty uncomfortable about whatever this was, only making you even more suspicious that this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. Certainly not a conversation you wanted to have with one of Eddie’s best friends, someone who would only defend him and make up excuses for his appalling behavior. “Look, this is really awkward. I probably shouldn’t be saying anything. It’s none of my business but…”

“It isn’t any of your business,” you stated, adding when he looked up at you, surprised, “I assume you’re here to talk about Eddie. I can’t imagine anything to do with your kid that would be this uncomfortable for you.”

He sighed, “You’re right. It is. I just, look, I know he can be an asshole.”

“That’s the understatement of the century…” you muttered, your fingers running over the top of the desk, trying to remind yourself that your anger was at Eddie, not at Gareth. Gareth was the parent of one of your students. You had to be careful what you said, how you treated him. You had to be professional no matter how you felt. Besides, you really liked him and you knew his heart was in the right place. He seemed like a decent guy, unlike his friend.

He chuckled hoarsely, pulling at the collar of his shirt, “Yeah. Maybe. But I heard what you said the other night at the bar. I mean, about what happened between you two. It was a little hard not to hear.”

Your eyes slipped closed, your face blazing with shame. Of course he’d heard it. The whole bar had to have heard it. By now, everyone in town probably knew. You hadn’t exactly been quiet about it, screaming it at his face as you lost all self-control in the throes of your white hot rage, and now you had to live with the consequences of it. 

“Yeah, okay, and what about it?”

“The thing is, I know you’re probably thinking he’s some manwhore who sleeps with a bunch of different girls and drops them all the time but he’s not.” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes. Of course his best friend was going to defend him. Did he really expect you to believe that Eddie didn’t sleep around after he’d just blown you off? Or were you just the exception, so distasteful to him that he couldn’t stomach the idea of even telling you on the phone that he wasn’t interested?

Gareth’s hand rose in front of him, “I know you have no reason to believe me. You don’t know me. You don’t even know him that well but I’m telling you the truth. I haven’t seen Eddie with anybody in years. There’ve been a couple girls here and there. And I’m not saying he hasn’t had some one-night stands. I mean who hasn’t, right? But both people knew what it was going into it. He doesn’t lead people on. He’s…I’m shocked he was even willing to have sex with you honestly.”

“Wow, thanks,” you snorted, folding your arms over your chest.

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, he’s really self-conscious, you know, of his scars and shit. I assume since you two, well, you know, that you saw them. He doesn’t like to take his shirt off, ever. He had one girl who…well, they’d been dating for like a month and when they went to do the deed and his shirt came off, she looked repulsed. She visibly cringed and lurched back from him, asking what the hell that was. Eddie told her about the…you know, the raccoons. She asked him if he could just keep his shirt on when they had sex. You have no idea what that did to his head, man. He won’t even take it off at the pool anymore so the fact that he was willing to show you, to literally bare himself to you, risk your reaction, I don’t know. It makes me think that you’re special.”

Your fingers pressed against your forehead, your heart aching at the thought of Eddie, standing bare. Being as vulnerable as you can be in front of a woman who made him feel anything less than beautiful. You had seen him, seen every single part of him, and there wasn’t a single inch of him that wasn’t magnificent, scars or not. Jesus, the guy could not catch a break. It seemed like all anybody ever did was let him down and tear him down, everybody besides his friends, the only people he let peek through that wall he’d built around himself.

And here you were again, torn, a state that you seemed to perpetually be in when it came to Eddie. Wanting to slap him across the face while, at the same time, wanting to hold him against your chest and make all the bad shit go away.

“If I am so special, then why did he rush out after? Why didn’t he even bother to call?” you demanded, wanting to believe him but terrified to allow yourself to.

“Honestly? Eddie is a locked box, man. He used to be this really open, loud, and proud guy who didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him. He didn’t care that they called him a freak. He wore it like a goddamn badge of honor. He figured if they were going to label him, then he may as well live up to it. He was fun. He was…Eddie. But after all that shit went down with the murders, he changed. He pulled everything into himself. He stopped letting people in. Hell, it’s hard for me to get him to tell me anything and we’ve been friends since fifth grade. So my guess is you scare the shit out of him because he wants to let you in but he doesn’t know how. I guess I’m just saying…I mean, what I came here to say, is maybe don’t give up on him just yet. I really think you could be good for him.”

“I don’t know, Gareth,” you mumbled, thinking back to Tuesday night, the vicious way he’d grinned at you as he basically said that what you had done meant nothing to him. 

“I know. I’m not saying you have to decide anything right now. Just maybe think about it. He’s a jerk but I swear to you, he’s a jerk worth knowing because there’s a good guy in there. There’s a guy who is so damn loyal and who will do anything, I mean anything, for the people he cares about. There’s a guy who could be the best damn person you’ve ever met if you’re willing to work for it.” He shrugged. “That’s all I really came to say. I’m not trying to pressure you. I just wanted you to have all the facts because he’s my friend and after everything he’s been through, he deserves to be happy. And it sounds like you do, too. I’ll let you get back to…cleaning or whatever. Have a good weekend, teach, and thanks again for taking such good care of my boy.” “Of course. Charlie’s a great kid. You’ve done an amazing job with him,” you smiled. “You have a good weekend too.”

You sat on the edge of the table for probably far longer than it seemed after Gareth left, your mind like a runaway train going off the rails. Could he be right? Who would know Eddie better than him except maybe his uncle? And he’d cared enough to come find you and talk. Why would he have even bothered if he didn’t believe what he said? 

Oh, but the thought of fighting back, of trying to get Eddie to let you in, to chip away at those walls, was so damn exhausting. You felt you would collapse under the weight of just considering it. Was it worth that much energy? Maybe Gareth was wrong and Eddie had never wanted you to begin with, never wanted anything from you besides finding out what the new girl was like in bed. It was high school all over again. You were the shiny, new toy that the cute boy wanted before all the others got a chance. You groaned, dropping back onto the desk, your arms draping over the sides as you stared at the ceiling, thinking maybe you’d just stay here all weekend, on this hard desk.

“Girl, it’s Friday. What in the hell are you still doing here? Are you planning on taking a nap?” asked Leslie with a laugh, poking her head in the door. 

“No. Just thinking about stuff, cleaning up a bit, and making sure I’m ready for Monday.”

“All of that stuff will still be here on Monday. All of that crap you’re pondering will still be waiting too. If this is about that meeting or those boys, that issue isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Let it go for now,” your co-teacher scoffed, waving her hand. “Seriously, girl, grab your stuff and go home. Come on. It’s a Friday night. You’ve got to have something better to do than hang out at school.”

“Not really,” you mumbled, swallowing down the lump of heartache that formed as you admitted how very pathetic you were. “I’ll probably just go home, lay on my couch, and dwell on all the horrendous fuck-ups I’ve made with my life. I thought I had made some friends but that didn’t really work out.”

Leslie’s lips compressed together, her shoulder resting against the frame of the door, “Damn. This is just sad. Alright girl, I am not going to let you wallow in whatever this is. You and I are going to get a drink because you sure look like you could use one and I know I could. And then you can tell me about whatever happened with these friends.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have plans. I’m fine. I’m just being pathetic and self-pitying but I’ll get past it.”

“Look, we’re all pathetic and self-pitying at times. You know what the perfect cure for that is? Talking and drinking. My only plans for the night were with a bottle of Merlot, a bubble bath, and a smutty book,” Leslie shrugged. “It can wait a few hours. Come on. Grab your stuff. There’s a bar right around the corner.”

____________________________________________________________

The bar was called Cheers and Beers. It was another little hole-in-the-wall place like The Hideout. Hawkins didn’t really have many places that would be considered upscale but this place appeared to be cleaned, at least, on a semi-regular basis. You and Leslie chose a small table in a back corner and Leslie ordered a glass of Merlot, you choosing a bourbon, hoping the burn of the alcohol would sear away everything else you didn’t want to be feeling or thinking.

As the waitress delivered your drinks, Leslie took a sip of her wine and then leaned forward on the table, her chin resting in her hands, “Alright. Spill. So, what happened with these people that you thought were your friends but aren’t now? Did you get in a fight or something?”

“No. I mean, I did fight with one of them, but he’s not even someone I can call a friend. Not really. But I didn’t fight with all of them but now it’s so awkward. I screamed at him in front of everyone. I completely lost my shit and went insane and now they all know what an idiot I am. I’ve completely humiliated myself and there is no way I can face any of them again. They probably think I am pathetic and gullible. I know they definitely think I am a giant whore now.” You tipped back the bourbon, already finishing it off, relishing the slow burn as it ran down your throat.

Leslie choked on her wine, almost spitting blood red liquid all over the table. Covering her mouth, she swallowed it down, setting her wineglass down carefully before wiping her mouth with a napkin. Leaning back in her chair, eyebrows raised, she looked quizzically at you. 

“Okay, now you can’t say something like that without providing more context. Why in the hell would they think you’re a whore? Did you sleep with a bunch of them?”

“No!” you protested, offended that she would even think you were capable of that. “Jesus, of course not.”

Groaning, you waved the waitress over, ordering another bourbon, knowing you were going to need some more liquid fortification if you were going to have any hope of getting through this conversation. Holding up your hand, you paused the conversation until the drink arrived. You took a large drink when it was delivered and then inhaled slowly. 

“Okay, so I met this girl, Max Mayfield, at the diner a few weeks ago when I went in to grab some food. She was really nice and we just got to talking, you know? I told her I was new here and I hadn’t met a lot of people so she invited me out to a bonfire with her friends at the lake. I went and met a whole bunch of people there and I absolutely loved them. They were so kind to me, all except for one. I think you might know him, actually. At least you seemed to that day after school when he was waiting for me.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, deep lines appearing between them, as Leslie thought back and then her eyes went wide with recognition, shooting your way, “Eddie Munson? Eddie Munson was there because he was waiting for you? Oh god. Tell me you didn’t sleep with Eddie Munson!”

Your cheeks heated as you dropped your face into your hands. Even Leslie knew you’d been an idiot to ever trust him. He must have some kind of reputation in town for being a ladies man. Everyone in town probably knew he slept around, leaving a string of heartbroken women behind him. He was in a band. He probably had a different groupie in his bed every single Tuesday night. The very thought twisted your stomach, thinking of some other girl underneath him, his hands stroking her skin, bringing her to levels of ecstasy that you hadn’t even known existed until him. Him whispering those sweet lies in another woman’s believing ear. 

“Jesus Christ. I cannot believe that you slept with the Hawkins Antichrist.”

“I…I’m sorry. The what?” you asked, lifting your head. 

“You really don’t know? He was suspected of murdering a bunch of people in town a decade ago. They couldn’t prove it so he went free but everyone still thinks he did it. He was always so weird and he loved being the outsider. He’d scream and yell about forced conformity and how the government was brainwashing everyone with media propaganda. Seriously, he would jump on top of the cafeteria table at least once a week to rant about some shit. Everybody knew he was crazy. He played some satanic game and brainwashed a bunch of younger kids to join. They even say the game was just a front for a cult and that the murders were actually sacrifices to Satan.”

Your eyes rolled, your stomach twisting up again but this time it was anger stirring within you. So Leslie wasn’t appalled because she thought Eddie was a manwhore. She was appalled because she bought into all the bullshit about him, the same bullshit that asshole Andy was spewing. Your fist clenched around your drink, arm stiff as your muscles tensed.

Maybe you were pissed at Eddie. Maybe you thought he was a son of a bitch for doing what he did to you. Maybe you thought he wasn’t a great guy when it came to women but you would never believe he could do those things. You would never believe the stupid rumors this town seemed insistent on holding onto. It was ridiculous, absolutely insane. And to top it off, the only reason these ignorant people believed it was because he didn’t fit the definition of what they called normal and you could not stand ignorant people who judged things they didn’t even understand.

“Come on. You can’t tell me you buy into all of that bullshit. Leslie, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“You weren’t here,” she argued, her fist coming down onto the table harshly. “You have no idea what it was like. Nothing like that had ever happened in this town before. This was a safe place, a place where people didn’t bother locking their doors and didn’t worry about their kids being out until the streetlights came on. After that, everything changed. People were terrified. They instituted a curfew. Parents were keeping their kids under lock and key, terrified they would be next.”

“Okay, I understand that what happened was awful but that doesn’t mean Eddie had anything to do with it. People only accused him because of how he looked and the things he enjoyed, which metal music and a fantasy game are harmless by the way. He didn’t run a cult, Leslie. He didn’t induct people in. He took in kids who didn’t fit in anywhere else and gave them a safe place. It was seriously just a harmless game. The name of his DnD club was Hellfire. People twisted it all around after the fact to make him the monster they needed him to be.”

“Chrissy, the first victim, was found in his trailer! How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t. As you said, I wasn’t there but I am telling you that Eddie had nothing to do with it. There’s no way that he’s capable of something like that.”

Leslie looked at you as if you’d completely lost it, “Are you seriously defending him? I am assuming he dicked you over since you’re refusing to face these new friends of yours. Used you for sex and then he’s done with you and you’re going to sit there and defend him? You don’t even know him. You said you just met him a few weeks ago. Let me guess who your new friends are? Steve Harrington? Nancy Wheeler? Robin Buckley? Jonathan Byers?”

“How…how’d you know that?”

“Because that group were the only ones who stuck by him after everything. They will still defend him with their dying breath. I’ve always wondered if they know more than what they’re saying. That group was always involved in all the weird shit that happened here. The disappearances, the mall fire, the murders…them and those kids that are always with them were always knee deep in that shit. They closed ranks after everything, becoming some little secretive group. It’s seriously weird.”

“Look, I think they do know more about what happened back then than they’re saying but maybe they have good reason to stay quiet. They’re good people, Leslie. I’ve gotten to know them pretty well and they are some of the kindest, most inclusive people I’ve ever met. And maybe they defend Eddie because he deserves it, because they know he’s innocent. Have you ever thought of that?”

Leslie sighed, “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. I really don’t. I like you and I love working with you. You’re an amazing teaching partner. I don't want things between us to be strained. But we might have to agree to disagree here. Eddie hasn’t exactly given anyone any reason to think otherwise. He walks around all surly and has a massive attitude all the time like he’s just waiting for a fight.”

“Of course he does! Can you blame him? This whole town was more than happy to crucify him the minute something happened. They didn’t even consider the possibility that he didn’t do it,” you argued. “Why should he have to prove anything to any of you? Innocent until proven guilty, remember? You all condemned him without any proof. Why should the burden fall on him to prove what should have been assumed to begin with? This town didn’t give him a single reason to want to be friendly.”

“I mean…okay, you’re not completely wrong. I remember the town hall meeting vividly. It was like something from a horror movie, something that you just never think you’ll be a part of. I felt like I was watching a car wreck in action. Jason Carver showed up, completely out of his mind, and ranted about monsters and demons and the whole place was ready to hunt Eddie down themselves. My parents were absolutely convinced he’d done it. I just…I guess it was easy to believe. He’d always been called the freak at school and he seemed to like to live up to that title. He seemed to take pride in it. He was always so different. He didn’t even try to fit in. You know? Most people want to fit in, want to conform but not him.” Leslie paused, thinking. “If he really is innocent, I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for him living in this town after all of that.”

“The others told me he’s had his car vandalized and things thrown at his house, not to mention the awful things people have said to him. He only stayed for his uncle who raised him. He didn’t want to leave him alone. I met his uncle and he’s a really sweet guy. And yeah, Eddie slept with me and seems done with me. He completely used me. He’s a jerk for that. I hate him right now. I mean, I want to punch him right in his nose but I still can’t believe he would do anything like that. He’s an ass but he’s not a murderer.”

A sigh fell from Leslie’s lips as she shrugged, lifting her wine glass, “Well, alright. I guess if you can still think so highly of him after he used you like a cheap prostitute, then I suppose I could consider rethinking my views on him. Maybe this town was wrong. Maybe I was. I just believed what everyone was saying without a shred of proof just like everyone else. I never even considered another possibility until now. They called his followers sheep but I believed my parents like a damn sheep following the flock. It was classic mob mentality now that I think about it. God, I kind of feel like an idiot.”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad,” you assured, lifting your glass to Leslie’s, clinking them together. “I have believed a bunch of bullshit that I shouldn’t have more than one time myself.”

“Well, cheers to us both being dumbasses,” Leslie chuckled.

“Cheers to being blind to the truth,” you agreed, downing the rest of your drink.

___________________________________________________________

Leslie pulled in front of your house to drop you off a few hours later. You’d had every intention of walking back to the school and riding your bike home but you’d wound up drinking one more bourbon and after three, you didn’t quite trust your tipsy self to balance on a bike. Better not to take any chances. The last thing you needed was a broken bone and a hospital bill you couldn’t afford. You would just have to walk over to the school tomorrow to get it. You waved goodbye as Leslie pulled away, thinking at least with the help of some alcohol you’d be able to get some good sleep tonight and stumbled your way up your sidewalk. 

Maybe you’d lost all your new friends. Maybe you’d messed that up completely but that didn’t mean you were completely alone. After your little argument about the ignorance of the town, you and Leslie had a good time together, laughing and talking, finally taking the time to really get to know each other outside of the walls of the school. 

You, who’d been keeping everyone at work at a distance for so long, could see Leslie as someone you’d enjoy spending time with. So, maybe there was still hope for a new life in this town. Maybe you wouldn’t have to run away with your tail between your legs to start over somewhere new again. Maybe you could still find your happy in this place.

A small amber glow to the right of your porch caught your eye as you moved to place your key in the lock. You jumped, jerking as you looked over to find Eddie sitting on your porch swing, legs spread wide in front him, one arm casually draped along the wood backing. He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag before tilting his head back, the smoke slipping from between his lips in a thin line.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No. Hell no. Absolutely not,” you muttered, shaking your head, working to get the key in the door as quickly as possible but your inebriated state was not allowing you to work fast enough as he rose from the swing and made his way over to you. 

“Prom Queen…” he began.

“No. Nope. No way,” you insisted, turning the lock and the knob so hard that you half fell into your foyer. You spun to close the door behind you but his hand shot out, holding it open. You pushed back hard but it provided no resistance against him as he stepped inside, swinging it shut behind him. “What do you think you’re doing? Get the hell out of my house.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until we talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about. You got what you wanted from me, Eddie. Good for you. You fooled me. You had me believing you were a good guy and it got you in my pants. You came, you saw, you conquered. You got the new girl first and proved I’m just as empty headed as you first thought. Now you can walk around all proud of yourself, basking in your glory. So get the fuck out.”

“Goddamn it, that’s not what that was,” Eddie huffed, taking a step toward you as you simultaneously took a step back, not trusting yourself to be so close to him. He groaned, both hands coming to the top of his head as he spun in an agitated circle. “I wasn’t just trying to get in your pants.”

“Could have fooled me by the way you ran out of here like the damn house was on fire and then couldn’t be bothered to call me after you said you would. Not to mention what a dick you were at the bar. Weren’t you the one who said you were a good actor? Well, you should win an Oscar for that because I thought you were being genuine. I thought you liked me. What an idiot I was!”

“Goddamn it! I know I did this all wrong. That wasn’t…I didn’t…son of a bitch! I just…this is such a bad idea. Don’t you see what a bad idea this is? I shouldn’t have ever done that. I’ve tried so hard to keep a safe distance between us, to resist what I wanted. It was a huge mistake and then you asked me to stay over and I knew it was a mistake and I just couldn’t face you after…”

“Oh, okay. That’s so much better,” you growled, tossing your arms up in the air. “You didn’t just use me. Thank goodness. That could have been embarrassing. You just slept with me and then realized I was a huge mistake that you wished you wouldn’t have made. Thanks for clearing that up. You can go now.”

You stomped away from him into the kitchen, hoping he would get the idea and leave. You could not do this anymore. You wished you’d never met him. The room swayed in front of you and you grabbed onto the edge of the counter to steady yourself, a roar of frustration ripping its way from your chest when he didn’t leave but instead followed you. 

Why couldn’t he just go away? Did he really think this was any better than ghosting you? Telling you that you were an error, a bad decision, a regret? Why couldn’t he have just left it alone? You’d had no intention of seeking out clarification. You would have been satisfied just calling it what it was, a guy using you for sex. Maybe you could have even twisted it into something positive. You’d never had a one night stand. Shouldn’t everyone have one at least once?

“That’s not what I’m saying! Jesus Christ!” His large hands slammed down on the counter across from you and you jumped. “Don’t you get it? I’m the monster of this town! I’m defective merchandise just like your ex. You don’t deserve that, especially not after what that asshole already did to you. You would be better off with anybody but me! You’re not the mistake, princess! I am!”

Your muddled brain tried to wade through the murky confusion, “What?”

“Why do you think I’ve been such a dick since the moment we met? Sure, I can have my moments but I was really pulling out all the assholery I could for you. I wanted you to hate me because it was easier! It was easier than trying to fight what I really wanted. I’ve been fighting to keep a distance between us since the night we met and I’ve failed. I’ve been holding on for dear life so I don’t drown in you! But no matter what I did, I kept being drawn to you. I knew it was stupid. I knew it was wrong. I knew every single time I showed up that I was playing with fire. I knew you deserved better than me but I kept coming back to you. I told myself I could just be your friend. I told myself it was what you wanted so it was okay. I told myself I would never let it go farther than that. I’d play it safe. I made every excuse in the book, knowing damn well that I was just trying to justify what I wanted. But Saturday, I was just so damn tired of fighting it. And then you…you wanted me too and it was so damn easy to just let it happen, to stop resisting. I gave in and then you wanted me to stay over and I knew I had made a huge mistake.”

Your eyes slipped closed, your grip on the counter tightening as your brain warred with itself once again. Did you allow yourself to believe him again? Did you forgive him? Did you let him back in only to risk him changing his mind once again? Or did you tell him, fine, this was a huge mistake and that was all it was going to be and you should just stay away from each other? That would definitely be the smarter choice of the two but you’d already proven that when it came to him, you didn’t make the smart choice.

And those eyes. Fuck those goddamn big doe eyes. They were so sincere, full of pain, a window into deep anguish that was tugging at your heart. He was hunched forward, arms wrapped around himself as if he were trying to contain all of his emotions inside, shielding himself from the truth he was exposing. This man made you want to jump out of the plane without a parachute, to risk shattering on impact. Anything if it meant that you could make that suffering go away.

“And why do you get to make that decision for me?” you asked, struggling as those eyes pierced your soul; twin brown pools of regret pleading for you to try to understand. “Why do you get to decide if something’s a mistake for me?”

“Oh come on! I know you’ve heard all the shit this town says about me,” he muttered, tongue running under his upper lip, looking down at the countertop. 

“Is any of it true?”

Eddie shrugged, his finger running back and forth over the formica countertop “I didn’t hurt anybody, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not a murderer.”

“Then why in the hell should I care what anybody else has to say?”

“Because I’m broken, princess. Far too broken to ever be fixed.”

“Eddie, everybody’s a little broken. Sometimes those pieces aren’t meant to be fixed. They’re meant to be mended by opening ourselves up to others and letting them heal us. We can glue the parts back together but the cracks will always be there. They remain as scars to remind us of how strong we are, to remind us not to make the same mistakes twice. I’m not exactly perfectly put together myself.”

“That’s not what I mean. You have no idea. You’re not nearly as fucked up as I am. You might need a little glue but I am destined for the trash heap. My pieces can’t ever be put back the way that they were. They’ve been smashed into dust.”

“Okay, so what?” you insisted, your elbows coming down onto the counter as you leaned over it. “Maybe you can’t be put back the way you were before but maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe you have an opportunity to put the pieces back differently, in a way that’s even better, stronger. That is, if your stubborn ass would ever be willing to let someone in to help you. Reassembling yourself is not a one man job, Eddie. It requires a village and you have one. You just have to let them in.”

The pad of his thumb ran over the nail of his opposite one, that tongue of his slipping out, playing at the corner of his mouth. You were making him nervous. You had no idea how you’d learned to read him so well so quickly but you had. Eddie might think he was some mysterious conundrum but he wore his emotions on his sleeve and he had particular tells when something was off. 

“Would…” He breathed in slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, and then they opened, finding yours. Your grip on the counter tightened, your legs like a jellyfish, the intensity in his stare almost sending you to the ground. “Would you consider yourself a part of that village?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging. “I told you before that I wanted to be if you’d let me but you don’t seem to want to. I get that you don’t know me that well. You have no reason to trust me and now, I don’t know if I can trust you. I mean, you’re only the second guy I slept with and you disappeared on me. Kind of makes it a little challenging to be open and trusting.”

“The…wait…” Eddie’s head shook, mouth open in a silent question while he got his bearings. “You seriously had only ever been with your ex? I was…shit.” His palm ran down his face and over his chin. 

You turned quickly, grabbing dry dishes from the rack next to the sink. You began putting them away, anything to keep your hands busy, to keep from looking at him. Great. You really needed to stop putting your foot in your mouth. Now he really thought you were stupid and pathetic. You’d only ever been with two guys your entire life and both had screwed you over. Eddie was probably enjoying this, relishing the fact that you were the shallow airhead he’d pinned you as the night you met.

“Princess…”

The hairs on the back of your neck rose, a shiver running down your spine. Eddie was so close behind you that you could feel his words, his breath softly moving your hair. Your eyes slipped close, your body responding to him the way it always did. Your damn body was a betraying bitch. Why did he have such an effect on you and why was he so damn close? 

“I’m really sorry,” he whispered softly. “I had no idea that I was your first after your split. I had no idea that I was only your second. I guess I should have. You said you’d been with him since high school. Shit. I feel like all I do is apologize to you. I know I’ve been a dick. I know you have no reason to but do you think you can forgive me?”

Could you? Yes. Would you? Yes. Should you? Probably not but you’d never been able to do what you should do when it came to him. What was the point in starting now? You knew you were probably setting yourself up to have your heart broken again. You were probably setting yourself up to be humiliated again but you couldn’t stay away from him. You could try to kid yourself. You could tell yourself whatever you wanted but you knew it wasn’t true. 

Your silence must have felt like an answer to him because his warmth vanished from behind you. You could hear his boots treading heavily across the hardwood floor as he made his way to the door. You should let him go. You should let him walk out the door and put an end to this thing now before it got out of control and you were too deeply in. But you were already too deep. You were hundreds of feet below the surface, kicking your legs, but unable to breach, every fiber of you completely consumed with him. 

“Eddie…” You spun around as you finally broke the silence. 

His head turned, eyes filled with so much hope that you were overcome with a desire to give him anything he wanted just to keep it there. You walked toward him, your hand reaching for his cheek, your heart constricting when his eyes closed, his face turning into it as if relishing the simple human contact. This man was so touch starved, desperate for affection from someone. Desperate for someone to think he was worth something, for someone to care for him, someone more than just a friend, someone he could be the most important to. He hadn’t said it. He never would probably but his body language was screaming it, just hoping for someone to finally hear.

Were you strong enough to take a chance on him? Were you strong enough to push past all his defenses? You didn’t know. Maybe not, but you were damn sure willing to find out because nothing scared you more than the thought of him walking out, the thought that you might never feel for anyone else the way you felt for him. The thought that this all consuming need and desire would never take you over again was unbearable.

His hand came up to cover yours but this time he didn’t remove it. He held it there as he opened his eyes, gazing down at you with such longing that you struggled to maintain eye contact. His other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling your body toward his until your pelvis was flush against him, feeling how much he wanted you at that moment. Your breath hitched as his head dipped, his lips hovering just above yours. 

“Are you sure?” he asked softly. 

“Are you sure?” you shot back at him, putting the ball in his court. You hadn’t been the one to walk away. You hadn’t been the one who shut this down. You’d been sure from the moment your lips met. You needed to know if he was sure.

“I am so fucking sure,” Eddie rasped, his thumb moving to your lips, brushing along the bottom one. 

“Prove it,” you challenged.

Chapter 15

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @eddiesguitarskills @witchwolflea @nailbatanddungeon @emilyslutface @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @corrodedcoffincumslut @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @katethetank

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson smut #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson lives #max mayfield #hawkins #ongoing #fluff #angst #smut and fluff #fluff and angst #enemies to friends to lovers #post divorce #falling in love #second chances #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #jonathan byers

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Deprived | Three

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking (cigarettes) word count: 3.4k a/n: thank you so much for the love on this series!! just letting y'all know it's gonna be a slow burn so it's gonna be quite the long series. also made this chapter a bit longer so pls lmk if you like the longer chapters. things will get more exciting from here dw. love you all <3

pov: layla

I was planning on staying at school the whole day, I truly was. But when I felt more eyes on me than usual and murmurs surrounded me with every step I took, I decided I didn't have the energy to endure the whole day. I would skip my next two lessons and come back after lunch, considering I skipped my last two lessons yesterday and the whole point of me being here was to not get expelled for missing too many lessons.

Matt and Chris talked amongst themselves behind me as I walked to my locker but stopped earlier than when I reached it considering theirs were a fair distance from mine. I swung my locker open, still hearing murmurs of my name as people passed by me and I sighed, resting my head on the small shelf inside my locker. I looked across the hallway to see Matt talking to both of his brothers now, looking like they were having a serious conversation.

I pulled my bag out of my locker, swinging it onto my shoulder before I slammed the door closed louder than I usually would out of frustration. People turned to look at me and I slid my hood on, walking down the hallway as people started filtering out for their next class. I walked out the front door without being stopped by anyone, a breath of relief leaving me but once I noticed how hard it was raining, my shoulders slumped slightly.

I couldn't be bothered walking all the way home and back, especially in this rain but I also couldn't stand being at school at the moment. Amidst my thoughts and pulling my pack of cigarettes out of my bag along with my silver zippo lighter, I hadn't noticed the doors of the school opening.

"Hey, social butterfly," Matt appeared beside me, his hair now covered by a black baseball cap. I placed a cigarette between my lips, throwing the packet in my bag before lighting the end of it, "You're gonna smoke that here?"

"Social butterfly?" I asked, not responding to his question verbally as I took puffs of the cigarette.

"The first thing that came to mind," he shrugged, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him.

"Don't you have a class to get to, Captain?" I asked, sarcasm in my tone as he smirked at me. I made sure to blow the smoke away from his face as I spoke since I knew how much it pissed most people off.

"Don't you?" he retorted and I rolled my eyes, looking out at the rain-filled car park in front of me, "Where you going?"

"Don't know," I shrugged, not looking over at him as I spoke, "Can't stand being here but I can't be fucked walking home and back."

"Why don't you wanna be here?" he asked, his question sounding genuinely curious rather than prying.

"Because people can't shut their fucking mouths about me," I answered more harshly than intended before I looked to my right at him, noticing he was looking at the cigarette in my hand, "You want one?"

"Oh no. I don't- I've never..." he trailed off, shaking his head making me snicker to myself.

"Of course not," I mumbled, taking another hit before I let my right-hand drop to my side again, flicking the ash on the floor. Suddenly, the cigarette had been taken from my hand and Matt held it between his lips, taking a long drag.

He exhaled the smoke before he started coughing, holding his chest in the process making me chuckle at him. I took the cigarette from his hand, his cold rings brushing my fingers as I did so.

"You good?" I asked, amusement written on my face and he nodded, coughing lightly, "Went a bit hard for your first time there, pretty boy."

He had a pained look on his face as he looked over at me while I took another drag, looking out at the rain that didn't seem to stop, "How do you do that? It's not even enjoyable."

With a shrug, I said, "Just habitual at this point."

A silence fell between us for a few moments before Matt asked, "You hungry?"

"What?" I asked, pure confusion on my face as I looked at him and he pushed away from the wall.

"I wanna go to McDonald's. You might as well come with," he answered before swinging the door open to the school and walking inside. I stayed in my position, debating whether or not it's a good idea to go with him.

I didn't have any money on me but I also didn't want to stand here for the next few hours doing nothing so by the time he returned, backpack on his shoulder, I dropped the last of the cigarette on the ground. I squished it with my feet before turning to him.

"I don't have any money for food," I told him honestly and he waved me off as he grabbed his keys from his backpack.

"My treat," he answered quickly before he walked into the rain towards his car. I watched as his pace quickened and I bit my lip out of nervous habit. I shortly followed after him, jogging towards the car before I jumped in the passenger seat and swung the door closed behind me.

"I can pay you back tomorrow," I said as he started the car and he gave me a strange look as if he didn't know why I said that.

"It's just McDonald's. My bank account will live," he replied with a smirk and I shook my head.

"I'm fine to pay you back, I just don't have any money on me right now," I pushed further, never liking the idea of people buying things for me.

"Layla, I promise you it's fine. I asked if you were hungry, not if you had money to pay for your own food," he stated matter-of-factly and I pursed my lips before I slumped back into my seat. A brief pause was placed in the car before he said, "Seatbelt."

"Oh shit. Right," I clicked myself in quickly before he repeated the process of placing his right hand on my headrest, turning around and spinning the wheel with his left hand as he reversed.

"You can be on aux if you want," he said as he put the car in drive and we rolled out of the car park.

"I doubt you will like my music," I mumbled in response and he smirked, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road.

"Try me," he answered and I raised my eyebrows, grabbing my phone from my pocket and plugging it into the aux cable. I clicked on my most recent playlist, the first song being Message in a Bottle by the Police. I looked over at Matt to study his reaction to the music, his hand tapping against the wheel lightly along to the beat.

I hummed along to the song, looking out of the window at the rain pattering along the road. As we pulled into the cark park of McDonald's, the next song began playing which was Paper Machete by Queens of the Stone Age.

"What do you want?" Matt asked as we joined the back of the small queue of cars in the drive-thru, leaning his elbow on the window as he placed his head on his hand.

"Uh..." I trailed off, trying to think of what to get since I hadn't ordered fast food in a while, "Just a large fries is fine."

"You don't want anything else? Cheeseburger or nuggets or something?" he asked and I shrugged, "You like nuggets?"

"I don't mind them," I answered truthfully and he nodded.

"You want a drink?" he asked as we rolled up slowly, only one car in front of us before we had to order.

"Just a medium sweat tea is fine," I replied and he nodded before we rolled up to order.

Matt ordered what he wanted first before ordering my fries and sweat tea but I turned my head when he said, "Oh and can I get a 20-piece nuggets as well. Thanks."

With that, he rolled up to the next window and used his phone to pay for the food before we waited.

"Do you really need 20 nuggets?" I asked and he smirked at me, leaning against his hand again.

"No that's why you're gonna have some," he answered like it was obvious and I frowned. We pulled up to the last window, grabbing our food and Matt handed me the drinks to put in the cupholder before he gave them a quick thank you. He pulled into a car park and slid his seatbelt off.

"Give me the receipt," I held my hand in the middle of the car, sliding the seatbelt off my body and he held the bag in his lap.

"Why?" he asked with a squint of his eyes and I did small grabby-hands with my hand that was reached out.

"I wanna know how much it all was," I answered honestly and he shook his head.

"You don't need to. You're not paying me back," he said with a smile as he handed me one of the large fries from the bag and placed the nuggets on the console in between us.

"Matthew. Give me the receipt," I deadpanned and he grabbed the receipt out of the bag. I was waiting for him to hand it to me but instead, he started ripping it into pieces making me groan, "You're an asshole."

"I'm an asshole because I'm paying for your food?" he asked, a smile still on his lips as I frowned at him while he began eating his food.

"You're an asshole for not letting me pay you back," I mumbled in response as I started picking at my fries.

"Have a nugget and you'll forget all about it," he shrugged, sliding the nuggets towards me slightly and I rolled my eyes, reluctantly grabbing one from the box, "When do you wanna go back?"

"Never," I instinctually answered and he just looked at me, waiting for a real response, "I don't know. I need to go back for my last two periods."

"We can go back at lunch?" he asked and I nodded in response before I turned up the volume on the radio that was still playing music from my phone. The song that was now playing was Hypnotize by Biggie and I lip-synced silently to the words as I slowly ate my food, "So you do listen to rap."

"I listen to everything," I shrugged and he hummed suspiciously making me look at him with a squint, "What?"

"Nothin'," he shrugged, an amused look on his face, "Just hear people say that a lot and they listen to the same three genres."

"Give me a genre and I'll name at least three artists I listen to," I challenged and he chuckled before turning to face me more.

"Pop," he looked at me intently.

"Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, Beyonce," I answered easily and he nodded.

"Metal?"

"What kind of metal?" I asked, knowing he just group all heavier music together, "Nu metal would be Slipknot, Korn and Limp Bizkit. Death metal would be Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel and Blood Bath. Metal core would be Bring Me the Horizon, Parkway Drive and Trivium. Or heavy metal would be Black Sabbath, Pantera and Van Halen. Shall I go on?"

"Alright I got it," he chuckled before taking a sip of his drink as he thought again, "What about rap?"

"Tyler the Creator, Biggie and Trippie Red," I answered confidently and he nodded again.

"Jazz?" he asked and I snickered as he was struggling to think of more genres.

"Billie Holiday, Miles Davis and Nat King Cole," I had a cocky look on my face and he raised his eyebrows.

"Country," he stated, now looking as if he was trying to challenge me more.

"Kasey Musgraves, Zach Bryan and Shania Twain,"

"Grunge,"

"Soundgarden, Nirvana and Alice in Chains,"

"Reggae,"

"Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Jimmy Cliff,"

"Rock,"

"Foo Fighters, that's a big one, Lenny Kravitz and Fleetwood Mac,"

"Okay, I got no more. You win," he held his hand up in surrender with an amused look on his face.

"I mean I could keep going but I'll let you think about it for a while," I answered, a small smile on my lips triumphantly. He just stared at me for a moment, unmoving as he studied my face, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

I wiped my hands around my mouth and he shook his head with a smile, "No. I've just never seen you smile before."

"Oh," I let my smile drop, feeling slightly insecure as he stared at me.

"You should do it more," he shrugged as he threw his trash in the empty bag, "You have a pretty smile."

"Alright, stop gassing me up. I just proved you wrong on so many levels," I answered, brushing off his compliment as I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, you're right. Don't wanna make your ego too big, rockstar," He answered with a chuckle and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Rockstar?" I questioned, finishing the rest of my fries before throwing the trash in the bag he had now placed in the back seat.

With a shrug, he replied, "You like music a lot. Just seems fitting."

"You come up with the weirdest names," I stated and he smirked at me cockily.

"Don't think I didn't notice what you called me earlier," he said making me frown further in confusion, "When I was coughing my fucking lungs up. You called me pretty boy."

"At least the names I call you make sense," I rolled my eyes, trying to brush over the fact I called him that.

"So you think I'm pretty?" he asked, the mischievous look written across his face.

"Now whose ego is big," I raised my eyebrows, a small smile falling onto my lips.

"You're the one who said it!" he threw his hands out in front of him dramatically making me chuckle.

"It's fitting because you're conventionally attractive and that's why so many people love you," I shrugged, a smile still on my lips, "And plus you're captain of the hockey team. That always gets you far in popularity."

"You don't seem to care about popularity though," he stated, a questioning tone behind his words and I nodded.

"Why do you think I never talk to anyone?" I asked rhetorically before I looked out the window, "Yet people still love to talk about me."

"I mean..." Matt trailed off making me look back at him to see he was still looking at me, "I never really intended to be popular. I kinda hate it honestly."

"What's there to hate about being the most loved person in the school?" I asked with a distasteful chuckle.

"I only talk to my friends but everyone still loves to talk about me," he echoed my statement from earlier and I bit my bottom lip while nodding, "It's not all bad. Just gets annoying sometimes."

"At least people say nice things about you," I mumbled making his eyebrows furrow as he looked at me, adjusting his hair in his hat.

"Not always," he retorted making me look at him as I took a sip of my drink, "Especially with Chris being my brother and the fucking idiot he can be. Just because he's with a new girl every week, doesn't mean I am."

"Not as bad as people saying I killed my neighbour's cat," I raised my eyebrows and he pursed his lips, nodding in agreement.

"I can't argue with that one," he smiled a little bit as I bit my lip again, "How many piercings do you have?"

His sudden question threw me off but I answered regardless, "Nine."

"Wow," he seemed surprised and I now noticed the fact he had his ears pierced, the shiny silver earrings dangling from his ears.

"I have my septum, eyebrow, 3 in each ear and then my tongue," I stuck my tongue out to show him the silver bar that was through my tongue and he once again raised his eyebrows.

"Do you have any tattoos?" he asked and I nodded. Instead of explaining, I slid my leather jacket off and my black hoodie. I showed him the black and white tattoos that scattered across my arms, all for various different meanings.

"I also have a couple on my legs but kinda hard to show you those right now," I shrugged and he grabbed my wrist, pulling my left arm towards him gently as he looked at the permanent art on my skin.

"What's this one?" he asked, pointing to one of the bigger tattoos I had on my tricep.

"It's the welcome home cake from Coraline," I explained as his fingertips dragged over the tattoo raising goosebumps on my skin, studying it like he was genuinely intrigued, "My mum and I used to watch it a lot when I was little. It's always been my favourite movie."

"That's cool," he smiled at me, letting go of my wrist and I slid my hoodie back on, the cold air nipping at my skin, "I wanna get more tattoos. Where do you get yours?"

"Uh, one of my dad's friends did them. He's not licensed though so I'd recommend going somewhere that's professional," I smiled tightly before I realised I'd never noticed his tattoos, "I didn't know you had any tattoos."

"My parents said I have to wait till I graduate to get ones that are visible like on my arms and legs and stuff. But I have these on my hips," he lifted up the hem of his hoodie, sliding the waistband of his jeans down slightly to reveal two lightning bolts on either side of his waist travelling along his v-line.

"Oh wow," I took in a breath, feeling my face heat up as he slid the waistband back up and fixed the hem of his hoodie.

"I also have these on my collarbones," he announced as he pulled down the neckline of the hoodie to reveal a trail of leaves on either side of his collarbones.

I smirked as I looked at them before looking up at his face, "Big on the symmetry I see."

He shrugged in response before grabbing his drink and finishing the last of it, "I don't know what to get next."

"You gonna get any more piercings?" I asked, genuine curiosity in my words and he shrugged, "You should get a lip piercing."

"I'd have to wait till the seasons over if I get any piercings because I'd have to take it out before I play," he explained and I shrugged in response.

"It's only another month right?" I asked and he nodded in response, "Come with me when I get my lip pierced when the season is over then."

"You think a lip piercing would look good on me?" he asked, pulling his visor down to look at himself in the mirror.

"Mhm," I hummed in response as I looked at him inspecting his own face in the mirror, "Wait. I have an idea."

I unclipped one of my tiny hoop earrings from my ear, making sure to clean it a bit with the sleeve of my hoodie, "Look at me."

He turned to face me and I grabbed his chin to turn his head to the right further. I grabbed the small ring in between my fingers as he just stared at me before I mumbled, "I can't put it on if you have your mouth closed."

He let his jaw open, leaving his mouth ajar as I slid the ring over his lip. I moved it around, realising it didn't sit properly since it wasn't positioned on the inside of his lip correctly. I used my left thumb to pull his bottom lip down slightly and he looked at me intently while I slid the ring further down his lip till it looked satisfactory.

"There!" I nodded and he looked back to the mirror, tilting his head side to side to see if he liked it, "Perfect."

"Why get a piercing when I can just put on a fake one?" he asked with a smirk and I noticed the ring flash in the light as he turned to face me.

"Because fake piercings are corny," I deadpanned and he ran his tongue over the ring.

"It feels weird," he said before looking back at himself in the mirror, "But it does look good."

"Told you," I smiled at him and he shook his head with a smile on his lips.

"Should I leave it on when we go back to school and freak everyone out?" he asked, a mischievous look on his face as I pursed my lips with a nod, thinking of the shock on people's faces when the Matthew Sturniolo would walk into school with a lip piercing, or at least a fake one.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo

[noria-sweetie]

Wally Darling x Reader - Unforeseen Friendship pt. 10

Part 1 - Part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - You - Part 10

GO BACK HOME? | GO TO NEIGHBORHOOD!!

The sound of your alarm clock going off sounded out, blaring loudly making your eardrums vibrate slightly, you gave a sleepy moan as you reached over for your phone, and you hand patted the bed a few times before you came into contact with the cool surface. You rolled on your side lazily as you turned on the phone your eyes squint as you looked at the time. "10:30... ugh!... Already?" You mumbled sleepily as your arm plopped back down heavily on your bed and your breathing slowly evened back out.

It was quiet as you drifted back off to sleep, but the bedroom door suddenly slammed shut making you sit up in your bed in a blined and sleepy panic. "I'M UP!! I'M UP!!" You yelled as your eyes darted around the room, the blinds to your window rolled themselves up your bathroom door swung open, your tap turned on and the sound of the water rushing out reached your ears. "Ugh!!" You groaned out in annoyance before you threw your cover off of your body. "Why must I go to work today~!!" You whined out as you practically dragged your butt to the bathroom.

You sighed sleepily as you stood in front of your mirror, your hair was a mess and your clothes wrinkled but you didn't care, you yawned as you got started on your morning routine. It wasn't long before Wally joined you as he usually did, he was such a dapper young gentleman. You both wandered around the house, getting yourselves together for the day, Wally was always done before you, happily eating his apple slices at his little table while he watched TV happily.

You were sitting on the couch, curled up as you drew and worked on commissions that people sent in on your vacation. You were deep into your world when the doorbell rang, you perked up from your seat as you looked over at the door and back at Wally. He was in the middle of biting an apple slice as he stared at the door in wonderment before he looked back at you. You smiled at his cuteness before you got up from your seat, neatly sitting your iPad down on the table, you pointed at Wally as you did so. "Stay there and don't move." You ordered. He nodded his head in understanding and you nodded your head back in acceptance before you walked over to the door.

You looked through the peephole, only to see nothing there. You backed away from the peephole in confusion as you looked around back at Wally. He was sitting on his little chair, swinging his feet as he chewed on his apple slice, he smiled and waved at you and you smiled back before your face went back to confusion and concern. You stepped back from the door, ready to go back to the couch when the doorbell rang again, only this time a knocking was followed after it. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the doorbell ring, and you looked back at the door as you walked quickly over to look out the peephole, only to still see nobody there.

You pulled back as you stared in confusion before you decided to unlock the door, you cracked it open and were still greeted with the same emptiness. You opened the door wider as you pocked your head out, looking behind the door and around your yard. "Hello?" You cautiously called out. "HI!!" Came a high-pitched voice. "OOUWWO!!" You cried out as you jumped, your eyes darted around as you looked for the voice. "Down here, silly~!!" Came the voice again, you looked down and your eyes widened. "HI!!" She said again as she waved her hand excitedly. You stared down at her in shock as you tried to process what you were looking at.

She was a very bright pink, her hair was long, blonde, and thick, and was pinned up in a hightail, she had two little horns sticking out of the top of her head, they looked like candy corn. Her eyes were big and wide and full of joy, and her nose was small and orange. She wore a short sleeve, white collared, cute, poofy, strawberry-colored dress, a cute little yellow necktie around her neck, and a white belt to stitch her waist. The bottom of her dress was layered with a bright bubble gum pink and a sun kiss yellow. Her tights were very unique, as they were a green that faded into a pretty blue, and she wore cute little white shoes.

You stared at her for a moment longer before her giggles brought you back to earth. "HELLO!? IS ANYONE HOME IN THERE~!?" She teased as she knocked on her own head to reference you. You gave her a crooked smile as your nervousness peaked through. "Hehehe..." You gave an awkward chuckle. "YOU SEEM NERVOUS!! BUT THAT'S OKAY~!!" She sweetly yet loudly said. She seemed to speak loud without realizing she was. It was cute but slightly annoying. "Sorry... Umm, what can I do for you?" You asked her kindly. She opened her mouth to speak but the sound of a young man's voice caught your attention. "JULIE!!! YOU CAN'T JUST RUN OFF LIKE THAT!!" He shouted as he ran across the street.

She looked back in wonder before she smiled. "OH, SORRY JACK!! I JUST GOT SO EXCITED WHEN I SAW THE PRETTY FLOWERS!!" She explained as she pointed at the flowers. He looked over to where she was pointing at as he huffed while he walked up your little sidewalk. "Roses, I should've known." He said in a tired voice as he bent over his hands on his knees as he did. You stared at him, your eyes wide and unblinking. "Julie... You can't just run off like that, anything could've happened to you." He scolded her as he looked at her with a stern yet concerned stare. She ducked her head guiltily as she placed her hands behind her back while she kicked her feet. "I'm sorry." She said in a small voice.

It nearly broke your heart to hear her sound like that. It seemed to do him the same way as he gave a defeated sigh, he got down on one knee as he looked at her. "I'm not mad Julie, I'm just worried about you is all, you can't just go running into other people's yard, it's no-" He stopped in the middle of his lecture as he looked in your direction for a split second before he did a double take and he stopped speaking. You looked down at him curiously, your mind racing as to why he stopped. Julie noticed his strange behavior also, making her look up at him in wonder before she followed his gaze. Her eyes widen and they gained that happy gleam back as she gasped happily.

"WALLY~!!" She shouted with joy as she jumped, her arms high above her head before she ran towards you. You looked down next to you, seeing a curious Wally poking his head out between your hip and the door frame. His curious stare turned into recognition as he smiled happily at her. "Hi, Julie!!" He excitedly said back as he waved at her, Julie snatched Wally out by his collar and she trapped him in the tightest and most dangerous-looking bear hug you've ever seen. "OH WALLY, HOW I'VE MISSED YOU!!" She shouted as she swung a relaxed-looking Wally around like he was a ragdoll.

Her eyes widen for a second as she gave a dramatic gasp before she dropped Wally as she grasped her face, Wally fell to the ground on his butt, giving a little "Oof" as he did. You winced at his pain, but he seemed to smile once more as he stared up at her with his usual laid-back smile. "OH WALLY, IT WAS AWFUL!! ALL I REMEMBER IS THAT EVERYTHING WENT BLACK FOR A REALLY, REALLY LONG TIME!! THEN THERE WAS ALL THESE SCARY NOISES AND THUNDER AND LIGHTING, AND THEN- AND THEN- AND THEN- THERE WERE THESE PEOPLE WEARING THESE FUNNY OUTFITS AND THEY PUT ME IN THIS FUNNY LIQUID AND THEN THEY PULLED OUT ALL THIS PAPER AND- AND-" She shouted as she walked in circles, her arms flapping about as she went over her experience.

"Julie, Julie, Julie, calm down." Jack said, as he grabbed her by her little shoulders, she looked at him with wide eyes as she huffed and puffed her eyes wide with excitement. You cringed at her over etusiatism. 'Man, I was lucky to get Wally.' You thought, grateful to have stumbled across Wally and not Julie. No hate to the girl, but she was just a little too wild for you, Jack was good. "BUT I CAN'T!!! IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE SEEN WALLY~!!" She shouted as she flapped her arms excitedly, he chuckled at her enthusiasm as he stared at her with a loving stare. "I know you are, Julie, but you've got to calm down." He explained patiently. You stared at the two, lost in thought over this new revelation.

'I'm not alone anymore... I'm not the only one... How many more?... How many more people are out there like me... dealing with this?' You thought, as your eyes gleamed in renewed hope. Jack looked up at you and he smiled, from the look in his eyes, he thought the same thing too.

'I'm not alone.'

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #welcome home arg fanfiction #welcome home arg wally darling #welcome home darling #wally #home #wally darling x reader #wally darling fanfic #wally x reader #wally x y/n #welcome home x reader #darling x reader #welcome home arg x reader #welcome home fanfiction

[greg-montgomery]

Ivy - Part 10

gif by: @hotch-girl <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

my besties <333 i'm sorry it took me a while to update, but i'm here!! don't yell at me for not tagging anyone in this, no one gets notifications from me anymore, so there was no point. idk who is gonna see this without any tags but i'm posting it for the people who ask me about it and are waiting for an update 🥹 ilysm!!!!! this chaper is hurt/comfort and they're all gonna be okay! i promise!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“I’m saying we should double the prize. A hundred thousand dollars for your one and only. Sounds fair to me.”

Spencer held the button of Garcia’s device so he could speak without being heard by the people on the other side of the phone. “Agree with him.”

Sean nodded, looking at his almost empty apartment, left alone now with only Spencer and Penelope.

“Fine. A hundred thousand dollars. Tell me the place and I’ll bring them to you,” he said with confidence.

“I’m not telling you the location more than half an hour before our meeting. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Yes, Sean wanted to say, but he held back. “Alright. I’ll have them ready by eight o’clock tonight.”

“Good. Wait for my call around that time then. Say goodbye to pretty Y/N for now,” the man’s mocking voice replied, before hanging up.

Sean closed his eyes, exhaling as if it was the first time he had breathed all day. “Jesus…”

“You did a great job,” Spencer said. “They think you’re gonna meet in the evening so they won’t attempt to move locations for now.”

Reid’s reassuring words were comforting, but the weight on his chest was still heavy. “I won’t feel okay until Aaron calls me and tells me he has her.”

You, in his brother’s arms. His greatest fear had somehow turned into his greatest wish. As long as you were safe, nothing else mattered to him.

--

Being tied up and alone in a basement left plenty of time for your thoughts to travel wherever they desired. At first, those thoughts were filled with Aaron, and Jack, and Sean. But after that last phone call, your fantasies had shifted. This time they were violent and they involved the chair you were currently sitting at, and you using it to hit your kidnappers in the face.

They had, at least, finally shut up and left the room; although you were certain they were still in the house. You closed your eyes to appreciate the silence before a loud bang disturbed your little moment of peace.

“FBI! Drop your weapons.”

Aaron.

Aaron was here.

You smiled. Aaron was here and it was all going to be okay.

You could hear loud noises and yells from the other room, but you couldn’t make out everything that was being said. Two sentences, though, arrived perfectly clear to your ears.

“Where is she?”

“Hotch, slow down, you’re gonna kill him.”

Listening to the mess that was taking place on the other side of the wall and not being able to see any of it was actively killing you, but that torture ended fast when the door opened and you finally got to see the love of your life after a day full of agony.

Your heart melted at the sight of him and the tears you didn’t know you still had inside you spilled.

“Baby…” you cried, as he rushed to get next you.

Derek and Emily followed him, still pointing with their guns. “There’s no one else here,” you informed them.

“Sweetheart…” Aaron’s voice got your attention again. He kneeled in front of you, and started untying you gently.

It was hard for you to get any words out, your voice choked by your sobs.

“I’m here now. You’re okay.” he said.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here. I got here on time,” he said, kissing your forehead. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself. “I got here on time,” he repeated against your skin. “You’re alive, I wasn’t too late this time. I wasn’t too late.”

“What did you do to them?” you whispered.

“That’s not for you to worry about,” Aaron answered softly, helping you to stand up and then immediately lifting you up in his arms.

You could feel the eyes of his team on the two of you. You knew how it looked, yet you did not have the energy to care. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto one of the straps of his vest, as he walked you out of the building, protecting yourself from seeing the reason behind the blood that had stained the sleeves of his white shirt.

--

Getting checked up by the doctors didn’t take long since - besides the scars on your wrists and ankles by being tied up - there wasn’t a single scratch on your body.

You shut your eyes letting yourself surrender to the safety of being in Aaron’s car. He was talking on the phone with someone from his team, but you didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, his voice muffled with the sound of the few drops of rain that were falling on your windows, the soft melody coming from the radio, and the sound of the other cars passing. His hand was holding yours, resting on his lap. He squeezed it softly every few seconds as if to make sure you wouldn’t suddenly disappear.

“Sean…” you whispered.

“I called him. He knows you’re okay.”

“Good.” You smiled, and finally dozed off.

--

Your nose was buried in something soft. A hand was playing with your hair and the sweet feeling of sleep was taking over your body, but you resisted it. Where were you?

Your eyes fluttered open, being met with the fabric of a gray t-shirt. Turning your body to lay on your back and looking up, you saw a pair of brown eyes staring at you sweetly.

“What time is it?” you asked, not recognizing your own voice.

“It’s four in the morning.”

“Four?” You palmed your forehead and closed your eyes, feeling tired and confused.

“I know you needed to shower and eat, but I didn’t wanna wake you,” he explained himself. “How are you feeling?”

“My throat is dry.”

“Here.” Aaron offered you the glass of water that was sitting on the table right in front of the couch you were laying at.

The feeling of the cool water down your throat was worth a million dollars.

“I feel like shit,” you said, handing back to him the now empty glass.

“Wanna take a shower?” he suggested. “Then we can eat something. I cooked.”

You nodded.

You didn’t have the energy to talk; you didn’t have the energy to cry. And you felt immeasurably grateful it was Aaron that you were with. Someone who understood you, someone you didn’t need to fake it with.

He led you to the bathroom and quietly removed your clothes. An action he had done before, but this time there was nothing sexual in his movements. There wasn’t lust in his eyes. Only care and worry.

“That’s it,” he whispered, as you stepped into the shower. He made sure the temperature of the water was perfect and then he placed the shower head above you so the water would be poured all over you. After a few moments, he opened the shampoo bottle, and dropped some of the product on his open palm. The feeling of his fingers scratching your scalp was what broke you.

Your sobs were soft and your tears blended with the shower water. Still, it wasn’t hard to miss that you were crying. But Aaron didn’t acknowledge it, giving you the space you needed, even though he was right next to you. Just when you thought it was impossible to love him more, he made you fall for him even harder.

“I love you,” you attempted to say, not sure if the words even came out.

“I love you,” he answered, cupping your cheeks. His lips touched yours, the kiss light as a feather; a reminder that he was right there and he loved you.

Aaron moved onto washing your body, his touch reaching every single inch of you, washing away every reminder of that experience.

His clothes had gotten wet and some parts even had soap on them, so you figured it was okay if you did something that would make an even bigger mess. When he was done rinsing all the soap of your body and hair, you opened your arms and pulled him into a tight hug. You held him as close as possible to your body and Aaron lost no time before wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

--

“Your hair is still wet. You’re gonna catch a cold,” Aaron said from the kitchen, as you made yourself comfortable on his couch. You were dressed entirely in his clothes, seeking comfort in every little thing of his.

He walked towards you, with a bawl of soup and his famous Aaron Hotchner disapproving stare. He didn’t fight you, though, letting you settle in his arms even with wet hair, and fed you the soup he had prepared when you were asleep.  

“Baby?” he said, carefully, as you devoured the food.

“Mmm?”

“Are you feeling okay enough to call Sean now?”

His question took you by surprise.

“He asked me if you could call him at some point,” he explained. “He wants to hear your voice.”

“Of course,” you said. “I’m an idiot for not thinking of it earlier. I should have called him as soon as I woke up.”

“No, you’re not. You went through a lot today.”

“Still.”

You were in the middle of dialing his number when you realized what time it actually was. “Aaron, the sun is not even up yet. Isn’t he probably sleeping now?”

Aaron’s gaze dropped on his lap, in what you figured was guilt. “He said he wouldn’t sleep until he heard your voice. He…he thinks all of this is his fault.”

“It’s not.”

“I know. But you know Sean.”

“Yeah…I do.”

As hypocritical as it sounded, you both shared a love for Sean that you were afraid he would rightfully not accept. Sean would beat himself up for what happened to you, and you would not let that happen. You had already damaged his heart enough.

Part 11

#aaron hotchner x reader #sean hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #ivy #hotch 🪐

[neverevan]

☀️ writing patterns ☀️

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10+1 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive

buddie | 51.4k and counting | Explicit

Thursday, day 5

Buck was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened, it was all so quick; the rain, the debris, the mudslide and then the moment of radio silence before the chaotic explosion of noise.

“We’re not giving up on him.” Bobby had said at the time, but after four days, it has become abundantly clear that instead of a search and rescue, most people have already started to treat this as a recovery mission; except they still haven’t recovered the person who mattered the most.

And When You Speak, Angels Sing From Above

buddie + Shannon centric | 2.8k | Gen

Eddie should’ve seen it coming; the fancy restaurant, the idle evening walk in the city and the arranged sleepover giving them all night to be alone. In his defense, he was blinded by how perfect it all seemed.

Right up to the moment they got home, tangled into each other, rolling along the walls of the hallway, kissing and giggling at the increasingly silly things that Buck kept saying — then, Buck was suddenly gone from his personal space, getting down on one knee in front of him instead, saying words that rang through Eddie’s ears, without their meaning managing to penetrate the walls of his brain.

It didn’t matter.

no harm, no foul

buddie | 4.9k | Mature

The last couple of days felt… Well, honestly, confusing would be the word Buck would use.

The one thing that became clear in the recent weeks, was that he and Eddie were done pretending that there wasn’t something going on between them. (Right after spending at least two months violently dismissing any notion of such an idea, while simultaneously wondering if the other was doing the same. God, they could be really stupid sometimes… Buck was honestly surprised they even made it this far like this.)

Unfortunately, that clarity still left something else much more blurry; their direction.

we’ve got something permanent (i mean in the way we care)

buddie | 7.1k | Explicit

In hindsight, Eddie should’ve seen it coming from a mile away, after the week they’ve had.

It started out by having two days off back to back — which Eddie had planned on using to lay about the house, maybe with some slow make out sessions peppered in, while Chris was at school.

Apparently, Buck had other ideas.

Keep My Heart Warm In Yours

buddie | 18.5k | Mature

The whole thing started with Youtube — as most things do when 12-year-olds are concerned.

Christopher shuffled into the living room with determination, where Eddie was trying to figure out the settings of his new smart TV and Buck was folding and flipping the instruction manual back and forth, trying to find the beginning of it when Chris shoved his phone under his nose.

Of Love, Hospital Jitters And Christmas Lights

buddie | 6.3k | Teen + Up

“MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!” Buck shouted frantically as he pushed past people and ran through the sliding doors leading to the ER.

A nurse ran up to him immediately, waving to people behind herself for help and Buck felt his fingers go numb with fear as he tried to focus on her face.

You Ring, I Drool

buddie | 8.6k | Explicit

Eddie had long realized the resemblance, but it started to become more and more evident lately — and much harder to ignore.

Simply put; Buck was like a dog. In more ways than one.

If This Is What The Season Is Bringing

buddie | 2k | Teen + Up

December 25th 2021

Buck went straight to the fridge after he kicked his door shut. He really needed a beer right about now.

Okay, so Eddie was leaving the 118. Fine.

Well, not fine, nowhere near fine actually.

Out Of Order, Still In Line

buddie | 6.2k | Explicit

Buck could barely believe that today was finally The Day.

After weeks of power outages, paperwork mix-ups, unauthorised appointments and last minute emergencies, Buck finally made it to the Clinic.

And now here he was.

I Was Betting On Forever (But Forever Comes And Goes)

buddie | 4k | Teen + Up

Eddie was startled awake by the forceful ring of his phone.

He reached over to the nightstand blindly with an annoyed huff and pulled the phone off of the charger. He held it above his face, the brightness of the screen making him squint as he read the caller ID.

Unknown Caller.

Coming On Ever So Strong / Coming Off Ever So Soft

buddie | 14.7k | Explicit

Today

Buck didn’t have the best track record when drunk.

That was probably the explanation why his head was pounding like someone was trying to break into his skull with a sledgehammer. And why there was someone pressed up to his side in his own bed.

☀️✨☀️✨☀️

oh I feel so exposed lmao all those pointed single sentence lines dropped in there, just to set the tone are definitely something I swear by... I also use timestamps a lot cuz I love to jump all over the place and then of course there's my dearest friend; in medias res.

I was tagged by the wonderful @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon and @wikiangela mwuahhh 💛 and I'm totally no pressure tagging @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @watchyourbuck and whoever else feels like giving this a go ✨

#it feels like ​I haven't done a tag game in ages #😭 #my reading list has been waiting for me for weeks atp and I'm sweating blood to keep up with posting #but I miss pumping out all these fics for my boys 🫶 #but alas I was on a mental health break and now I'm back in training and actively pursuing my career #so I doubt I'll be that productive again #but then again who knows what the new season will bring out of me lmao #buddie #911 #tag games #my fic

[swaqcenix]

༻ It comes and goes | Natasha Romanoff ༺

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

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Summary: You've spent a chunk of your life battling the emotional thoughts of bipolar and have no concept on dealing with your emotions. Sitting in the rain does feel like drowning but it's comforting, until a hand from Romanoff drags you out of the depths of water.

Warnings: reader has bipolar, mentions of low thoughts, a shit ton of hurt/comfort, natasha just allowing reader to understand it's okay to not be okay!

Word Count: 1.8K

AN: This is just a small comfort fic while I work on my peggy!yandere fic and of course the strip club natasha one. (I haven't forgotten them!)

Wrote this a while back just to cope with my own diagnosis and anyone is welcome to gain comfort from it. Be my happy flowers guys! <3

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

There's one thing people never quite clarify with you, that the older you get just becomes more hard to swim. Kids always jump for growing up and throwing away their innocence not knowing of the tidal wave coming slowly along the sea, prepared to drown out your every thought of contentment.

Aged 10 was the last time you could ever remember not suffering with the constant feeling of a pit of anxiety, suffering and longing to allow the waters of the sea to suck you in. The way you used to place fictional games with your friends, always being petty shit's on the concept of, "Ask... it's not my game," or the fighting of being first in the lunch line.

You'd kept the diagnosis quiet when joining the Avengers, not wanting any of your fellow teammates to think any less of you. You'd felt less of yourself the moment the words of the diagnosis slipped from the nurses tongue 5 years prior. 5 years officially diagnosed but you didn't feel any lighter, instead you felt heavier.

"Sometimes we like to do CBT," the woman stated and your head tilted to the side.

"What's CBT?" Your hands bounced on your knees.

Slipping out the compound wasn't the easiest job. You'd all had meetings back to back with Ross and the damn government. An excuse slipped past your lips faster than it should have done. You'd stated only that you couldn't attend the final one as you'd had to go pick up your little sister.

Sure it would have been a valid excuse. If you actually had a sister. Yet, you didn't so you knew you'd be caught out eventually especially if Fury found out already knowing your background including family members. Still, you'd deal with that when the moment occurred for it.

"It's called cognitive behavioural therapy. It's commonly used for depression or anxiety but we do tend to use it on other patients like in your case to help you to cope with living with bipolar."

Your brain tried to stay focused but all you heard was the words 'your bipolar,' then began to shut off. After that the session was a blur. No thoughts passed your mind, no feelings ran through your veins nor emotions. Just the concept of numbness. Nothing to feel.

Heading back to the compound was a stressful moment. As soon as you walked through the doors you'd have to put on a whole front again pretending you were and felt something you didn't.

In all honesty it was comforting to sometimes be able to do that. Around your therapist, the outside world even your family they treaded lightly, afraid one word would break you like shattering glass hitting the floor or a porcelain doll. With the Avengers they didn't know, so you weren't a doll and you weren't glass. You were yourself and that alone.

However, sometimes it would be nice to just let yourself go. Your feet padded up the stairs of the compound entering the main room, the lounge where they sat watching TV and discussing.

"Hey, Y/N.. you okay?" Sam's voice was the first to speak but it sounded.. concerned?

"Yeah, fine thanks Sam," you responded allowing your eyes to meet his own.

Trying to act as casually as you always did, you went to grab a glass of water turning on the tap watching it run down the sink hole. You often wished you could be flushed away like that.

Shaking your head away from deeper thoughts you grabbed your glass sipping at the water looking up to see everyone examining you. A familiar feeling of dread, the emotional tidal waves flushing through your skin wanting out came crashing to the surface.

They surely couldn't know, right?

Vision spoke up first, possibly to ease up the tension though you can hardly imagine toaster man knowing much about emotions. No offence to the guy.

"We were told you.. you're an only child," his voice seemed one not of judgment but of confusion.

"Oh.. right," was the only response your brain could conjure up in that moment.

Tony let out a half-sided smile and you were grateful he wasn't digging too much. Surprisingly none of them were. He did speak up after a beat or two and while it wasn't their fault you did wish they wouldn't at all.

"Whatever is going on, we.. we're here," His tone was the best of sentiment you'd get out of him.

You truly were grateful but you hadn't a moments thought on how to even tell them. Fear of being kicked off the team, living half a life amongst them simply for suffering with some health issues was silly to other's minds, but not to your own.

Shaking your head you grabbed your jacket you'd left on the chair offering them all a tight lipped smile. Your eyes connected with Natasha's and your eyes felt like watering. She wasn't looking at you like you were damaged, nor was it in a concerned only look.

Nat was looking at you like she knew, like she understood what you felt and the pain gnawing away at you only grew. Her emerald green eyes looking one of connecting with nature swimming with the look of understanding was a pain you couldn't bare.

You mumbled that you needed air, heading towards the patio you'd become familiar with at night. It had become a comfort location, you'd seen Natasha out there a few times although, come to think of it lately she seemed to not be heading there anymore.

The mumbling and mainly muffled voices of the Avengers informed you that it was raining, but your brain scarcely paid attention. You just needed out, besides who gives a fuck if the rain touched your skin.

Your brain danced with thoughts of how to calm yourself down and you knew instantly, as your reached into your back pocket slipping in your airpods and connected them to your phone. Sliding open the patio door, you ungracefully sat down on the bench looking down as the rain hit your skin.

Hair becoming drenched you focused on your chosen song, trying to drown out any invading thoughts that would cluster your mindset, instead focusing on how you felt utterly at home.

The chosen song had been Waves by Dean Lewis. It reminded you so much of how your brain's concept of emotions and how your life seemed to go in waves of the ocean.

Sometimes you saw yourself standing next to the ocean as it pulled you out. The freedom of falling, allowing yourself to no longer panic over bipolar or how the world saw you.

The rain splashed down heavily on your skin and you felt wet through but you didn't mind, or frankly didn't care. Nor were you sure how long you had been listening to songs in the rain, it felt late but it felt like seconds.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. Your mind had been dancing to Paris, Texas by Lana until your body almost jolted forward from the contact. The sudden shelter from the rain made your head tilt up to come in contact with emerald eyes.

Natasha stood tall, almost protecting you- sheltering you from the rain, a beacon of hope. You offered the best smile you could give, despite the fact it looked like you were in pain more than smiling before indicating to her to sit down.

Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders, pulled half back into a plait that was elegant but moved with ease. It suited her just as most things did. You'd noticed that about her, for a woman who'd been through so much Natasha did everything with elegance and ease.

"You know, when I was a child I used to run out into the rain, the firefly's came out at night," She confessed causing you to stiffen up.

Natasha wasn't one for opening up, let alone talking of her childhood past, so why you? You let her express her thoughts almost curious to see where she was going to take this.

"My mom she'd come out to find me afterwards and I was always helping my little sister who also danced away with the firefly's. It wasn't real though. Not truly," She proceeded and your heart melted and cracked for the older woman.

"Nat I.."

You weren't even sure what to respond with. Hearing her open up around her past made your own pain seem tiny, insignificant despite the fact she wasn't attempting to do that.

"You don't need to say anything, I understand. Perhaps not what you're going through. The feeling of masking right, I see it," she continued tilting her head towards you.

She proceeded her train of thought.

"It comes and goes in waves. The feeling of this family. I had no one after the family I grew up with, no one but myself. Don't drown your thoughts out in the rain, drag yourself up out of the ocean, trust me Y/N."

You finally looked up making eye contact with the Russian, smiling softly at her nodding. You took off your glove reaching sighing looking down at your hands.

"Sometimes, my therapist gets it to a certain extent but sometimes she doesn't. When it feels like all you can do it float out to sea and drown in a pit of your own emotions. The masking isn't something I want to do, but simply so people don't see my problems.. they just see me."

A tear slipped down your cheek without even realising it and you closed your eyes. Nothing was spoken amongst the pouring of the rain, nothing was needed to be said. All that was needed was the words you let echo. It felt like you were drowning in a sea of hell, with no way out.

Through the mist and fog engulfing your brain, taking you out to the sea you felt a touch upon your hand. Eyes opening wide, you saw it. Her hand clasped tightly in your own trying to drag you out of the suffering, reach to you through the ocean like a beacon of a ship, rising up it's anchor.

Her eyes looked into your own, reflecting what she wanted to say but had no thoughts on how to express it. Her touch was all you needed, the words slipping past your mouth before you could think.

"Your family.. It might not have been directly real, but they pulled you out of the waves while it lasted, it was real to you Natasha," You explained watching it pull at her heart strings.

She offered you a watery smile, her eyes dancing with sea of hope just as your own while you were perhaps an an anchor in the waves you steadied each other out in a balance.

"This family is real to you too. We are real and we see you. I see you Y/N," Her voice bringing comfort and warmth.

You grabbed her hand tightly because while your bipolar had an anchor on you, you had a ship lifting you through the sea's Natasha and your little family. They were there to guide you.

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #marvel fic #marvel #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x gn!reader

[wibixthecowboy]

Play the Song: Chapter 13: Sweet like Candy

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, choking, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV  

A/N: Holy Fuck. Excuse my language but jesus. That last quarter literally gutted me. BUT I PERSIST. Here is what I think is the longest chapter by far? idk I haven't checked. Thank you for sticking around for so long. Smooches for everyone, enjoy! Also! I know the chapter links are broken :( , I'll fix them asap!

Words: 7.8k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

@urfavsunkissedleo@butskii@abbiesxox@itsasecrets-things@thatonewriterthatnooneknows@copiasratscheese​ @Sheviro-blog @Simonsslvt

���Flash

Dust swirls up into a small cloud, forced into motion by Flash's incessant kicking. It travels a few feet before dissipating into the bitter morning wind. She shivers again in the thin cotton of her pajama shirt and sweats and debates going back in. Debates sliding the small phone back into her pocket, shoving off the single stair in front of the base doors, and throwing herself back into her sheets. They'd be cold by now, it's been nearly an hour since she'd tossed back her blanket, dug the phone out of her duffel bag, and sat herself down outside to call her sister. Well, attempt to call her sister. It's been over five years since they'd last talked, when she'd stuck fifteen-year-old Flash on a transit bus to Arizona with a small backpack of keepsakes and photocopies of her registration papers for the Safford Advanced Military Academy. She’d sent a few letters, from the cramped desk in her first dorm but had never gotten any back. The constant schoolwork was a good distraction but it still stung.

Filling her lungs to a near painful capacity, Flash double checks the faded sticky note her sister had slipped into her pocket so many years ago and then the glowing numbers on her phone before shutting her eyes and jamming her thumb into the call button. Flash's breath is stuck in her throat, stilled in anticipation almost as if its waiting alongside her as the phone rings. Much to her surprise, she picks up by the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

She sticks her head between her knees, absolutely convinced last nights dinner is about to come up but after a few breaths her vision clears and she answers in a rush of air.

"Sarah?"

"Who is this?"

Flash tries to swallow back the disappointment building in her stomach and then,

"Grace? Is that you?"

The dinner does come up now and she barely manages to make it to the sad cluster of shrubs before the sting of bile burns up her throat. The world caves beneath her, sucking her chest through the souls of her feet. It ricochets through her brain, slamming hard at each turn. Grace Grace Grace. She gags again, wiping her mouth on the cold skin of her forearm. 

"Hi." She manages, the sound of her voice echoes between her ears. "Yes its me."

"Are you okay- did you just throw up?" Her sister's voice is calm as always, despite not hearing it for several years, the cooling affect is just the same. Sarah was- is the personification of winter. Cold, calm, and biting if you stayed with it for too long. But she's the only person who's ever been there every time Flash really needed her.

"Yeah, I uh," a burning gasp breaks her words and she realizes she hasn't been breathing. "I don't know I think I ate something funny."

"Okay." There's an awkward pause and when Sarah realizes Flash isn't going to say anything she continues. "Did you need something?"

It's at this moment that Flash remembers why she hadn't ever called. Sarah was an expert at talking people off a ledge. Every time Flash got into a fight, Sarah was able to smooth things over with a carefully plated store-bought box of cookies and a sweet smiled promise. But when it came to dealing with Flash and her inferno of a temper, Sarah chose to sit on the sidelines and watch as Flash burnt herself over and over. If it wasn't causing harm to others, Sarah didn't bother. But years of burning herself meant Flash had developed calluses. 

"Is Taryn there?" The words are bitter, whether from the bile souring her mouth or the stinging disappointment, she doesn’t know.

Taryn was Sarah's on-and-off girlfriend and the only woman in Flash's life that gave her the softness she so desperately craved. If Sarah was winter, Taryn was Spring. On the days she came over, windows were opened, wildflowers were picked, neatly arranged in vases, and dinner was always something with potatoes. Taryn had made their small two-bedroom crash pad into a home. How Taryn and her sister had made it work was beyond her.

"Um- yeah, she's here. One second."

There's a rustling as Sarah drops the phone from her ear and then a murmuring of voices, even through the lowered phone she can hear the way Sarah's voice softens as she speaks to Taryn. She'd never spoken to Flash that way.  

"Gracie?"

"Hello?" Flash's response comes out broken and half-whispered and with all the heavy emotion that she’d secretly hoped she’d feel when speaking with her sister. 

"Gracie! Hi!" Taryn's sweet honey voice pours from the speaker, still soft from sleep and the tears building behind Flash's eyes begin to burn. "How are you, sweetheart? It's been forever."

"Good- good. I've been good." She presses her knuckles against her eyes until colors bloom against the backs of her eyelids, unshed tears wetting her fingers. "I just had a question."

"Oh?" There's another round of rustling and Flash can picture her sitting up in bed, blindly grabbing at her side table before fixing the round pair of tortoiseshell glasses she wore over blinking eyes. 

"And what's your question?"

"When you met Sarah," Flash rubs a hand roughly down her face before glancing around, "how did you know?"

"How did I know what?" Taryn's interest has clearly been piqued.

"You know." She hesitates before sighing and feeling five years younger, mutters, "That you liked her."

"It took having a crush for you to finally call me?"

"I don't know, maybe?" There’s another silence, but unlike with Sarah, Flash know’s it’s Taryn waiting patiently for her to find the words that sometimes tangled themselves when making the journey from brain to tongue. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize honey. I'm glad you did, it's nice to hear your voice." Then she continues on, like it hasn’t been five years, and when she closes her eyes, Flash can see the pink sundress Taryn had worn the last time she’d seen her. The hem had been stained burgandy the week before by Flash’s impatient blackberry painted fingers. "It was kind of love at first sight.”

Flash, either in a desperate attempt to hear to a story not about the plight of terrorists, or simply because Taryn’s voice made the world brighter, listened to her whole story. How when Taryn had met Sarah, she’d been enthralled, and even more so when Flash had threatened to break her arm if Taryn broke Sarah’s heart. How she’d so quickly decided that Sarah was the one for her despite Sarah’s supposed lack of interest and to both Flash and Taryns dismay, her complete and utter denial of being at least bisexual. 

Another kick sends more dirt floating along the breeze and Flash struggles to find a way to ask for advice. ‘I’m actually talking about my lieutenant.’ ‘Oh, you didn’t know? I’m not fifteen anymore, I’ve actually killed several people.’ ‘Anyways, I want to fuck the life out of him but when I touch him he looks like he’s either going to piss his pants or bend me over the counter.’ or maybe just ‘How do I get over the deeply rooted fear of love that my dead father and might-as-well-be-dead sister instilled in me at a young age?’. She’s debating rephrasing the last one when a sharp cry cuts through Taryn’s retelling of her and Sarah’s first date. 

“Is that a baby?” Flash’s voice is sharper than she meant it to be. “Do you have-”

She’s cut off by a fake laugh and a breathily muttered ‘no’. Taryn never cut her off.

“No don’t be silly.” Another nervous laugh. “I have to go, Sarah needs me. But do call again! Let me give you my number so you can call my cell next time.” 

Flash listens numbly as she prattles off a long list of numbers, more focused on the static noise around her words. Waiting to hear another cry. When it doesn’t come Flash just shakes her head and tunes back in just in time to hear Taryn mutter another ‘goodbye’ and the quiet buzz of a dead line.

She blinks a few times, simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the call. And then the last few sentences Taryn had left her with slowly start to trickle to the front of her mind. In a rush, Flash flies through the front doors of the base, nearly dropping her phone in the process, grabs a pen from the table and scribbles the number along her forearm, hoping to god she’d remembered it correctly. Hoping she could survive another icily quipped sentence from her sister if not. 

Its then, mouth still gross and breathily reciting Taryn’s number in a desperate attempt to recall the sequence, that the sound of footsteps pulls her attention to the hallway. It’s the team, minus Price who’d left an hour earlier, and only gave Flash a fleeting worried look and a head shake as he passed her on the front steps, to get a headstart in traveling Alejandro’s farmhouse. 

Soap leads the group, hands tucked neatly into the front of his cargo pants. Behind him, Gaz is nearly identical in both stature and clothing, but unlike Soap, his hands fall confidently at his sides. Ghost, seemingly the odd one out, trails a few feet behind, dressed sharply as usual, but there are two distinct purple smudges under his eyes. They pass through the poorly crafted living room before each settling in their respective spots at the table, like an aged high school clique. She’s about to make a remark on this when Soap raises a brow at her. 

“And what are you doin’ lookin’ like that?” His hand waves up and down her body, at it hunched over the table. “We leave in like-” He glances down at his watch, “An hour?”

Ghost sits down heavily in the chair across from her and his eyes almost immediately fall to the messy set of numbers scrawled on her skin. His dark gaze narrows just the slightest bit and Flash can already see him jumping to conclusions. 

“I called my sister.” She blurts out, both to answer Soap and to stop whatever train of thought is starting in Ghost’s head. She’s not sure why she feels the need to defend herself. The three men sitting around her freeze, stopping their respective tasks to listen. “I uh- yeah.” 

“How did it go?” Gaz asks smoothly when the silence has stretched just a few seconds too long. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” 

He slides into the seat next to her, leaning on his arm and giving her just a tad too much concentration. It was times like these when Flash wondered if Gaz operated a black market of gossip, too eager and always asking the right questions. 

“We don’t talk.” Flash’s eyes flick up to see Ghost watching her warily. “Not for five years at least.” 

Gaz raises his brows but doesn’t say anything, just pitches his mouth down in the corner, enough that Flash know’s he’s no longer fishing for details. Part of her wonders just how much he knows.  

She looks across the table at Soap, sitting silent in his chair, picking at his nails, and suddenly becomes aware of the space left between him and Ghost. Now, after hearing Soaps late night confession the day before, the signs are obvious, like Soap has the words ‘I fucked my superior and now we don’t talk about it’ scrawled across his forehead in bright red pen. She clears her throat, 

“It was fine, I just called for-” She hesitates, still not quite sure why she’s telling them this. Maybe Taryn’s sweet tongued optimism rubbed off on her too much. “I just needed some sister advice.” Flash finishes with a shrug, hoping the burn on her cheeks isn’t too obvious. 

“I get that.” Soap starts, and Flash almost jumps at his voice, deep and raspy from sleep. “I’ve got my own sister. She can be annoyin’ as shit but she’s got some good advice.” 

“And what are you getting advice for.” Gaz teases, “You haven’t had game for the last year.” His words falter at the end and Flash doesn’t need any explanation to know he’s talking about Ghost and Soap’s relationship, or whatever the hell Soap had called it. In a quick attempt to smooth things over, she looks expectantly across to Ghost. 

“No. No siblings.” He says, and Flash watches the way his eyes fall to the worn table in front of him.  

“That's too bad.” Flash says, kicking him lightly under the table, “They’re a pain in the ass anyways.” This time, when he glances back up, she smiles at him with her teeth, remembering the way he’d so carefully parted her lips in the bathroom the night before. Something in his gaze shifts and his mouth moves under his mask, pulling up at the corners. But before she can see the full thing, he’s standing and moving towards the kitchen. Glassware clinks around, he pulls one of the bowls from the cupboard and stands at the sink, waiting awkwardly. She catches on a moment later and sits up.

“I’ll go back to my room while you guys eat.” She says, trying not to let the gesture sting too badly. “I’ve got to pack for the trip anyways.” 

As soon as she turns her back, even though she know’s its impossible, the rustling of Ghost pulling off his balaclava echoes through the concrete room. Just incase she has a sudden loss of self control and turns to see him making his breakfast unmasked, Flash speeds up her pace and practically throws herself through her door. 

Leaning against the foot of her bed is an empty duffel bag and next to it a small, half-filled laundry sack. In it are the clothes from that night. Just underwear, a tank top, and her favorite pair of cargo pants. All her other layers had either been torn or cut through. They’d been sent through the wash five times now, but every time she’d braved the task of opening the synched bag, a staggering fear grasped her so tightly that she would pull it shut and give it back to Price. He took it wordlessly every time and they would both pretend. Her muttering something about there still being blood and him nodding while sending it along with the rest of the laundry. Both of them knew the clothes were clean, practically washed thin, but she could smell the brine of the sea, the gory mess of the man as he splattered across her shirt without even opening the bag. 

So instead of kicking it to the side, or ignoring the sad, knowing look in Price’s eyes as she shoves the unopened sack into his hands again, she picks it up and sets it on the unmade sheets of her bed. Her hands shake violently and it almost makes her laugh, how they vibrate when the canvas whispers open.

On the top of the neatly folded pile is a small scrap of notebook paper. When she leans in closer, she can make out a single line of familiar scratchy handwriting ‘you’ve got this kiddo :)’. Tears burn behind her eyes as she picks the note up and sets it aside, reading it one more time before her eyes are too watery to see, and reaches into the bag to pull out the tank top. Her hands still shake, and the fold is done horribly, one strap sits higher up than the other making the whole thing a bit lopsided, but she finishes. The pants follow suit, folded neater this time. She picks them both up, along with the underwear, and shoves them into their respective drawers before leaning heavily against her dresser.

Taking a shaky breath, Flash turns to slide down the side of the solid wood, wedging herself between the wall and dresser she lets her head fall between her knees. There, away from the view of the laundry bag and clothes, she lets the adrenaline drain down her limbs and through her fingertips that rest on the cold floor. It shakes her body and looses a few broken sobs, but she’s alive and the clothes are folded. 

★Ghost

He waits outside of Flash’s door, hand half raised, fingers curled in a fist to knock. Soap had sent him to give her a thirty-minute warning which would now end up being a twenty-five minute warning. Shaking his hand out one more time, he raises his fist, and right as he's about to knock, the door swings open.

Flash stands in front of him, looking down at the duffel bag in her hand. She jerks back when she sees him. Just for a moment, in the few seconds, it takes for her to recover and slide back on her happy-go-lucky smile, he can see the crease at her brow and a small frown tugging the soft shape of her lips down.  

“You ready?” She asks, and Ghost nearly forgets that she is the one they’re waiting on. 

“Yeah.” He starts, and all the confidence he had built, all the words he’d carefully laid out for hours the night before wash away at the sight of her. “We uh- Gaz took the Jeep.” Flash nods for him to continue, and he does after another deep breath. “You, me, and Soap will be taking the truck with the rest of the equipment.” 

Flash watches him carefully, eyes flicking over every inch of skin his mask leaves uncovered. It’s this hungry gaze of hers, the one that scares the shit out of him, that she gives him before responding. Completely ignoring his words. 

“You didn’t sleep?” She says but doesn’t wait for him to answer. “Me neither.”  

Flash shoves her bag into his hand and jogs towards the front door, already arguing with Soap about her “perfectly valid” license. He carries both their bags in one arm and decides that it's the weight of their bags that is slowing him down. Not the fact that Soap reaching the truck first meant he and Flash would be stuck in the back together, strapped to a single bench. He wanted to thank whatever officer had replaced the passenger seat with a now out-of-date comms system.

_____

An hour in, Flash’s cheek is pressed hard into the knuckles of her fist and a shiny patch of drool starting at the corner of her mouth. He both envies her sleep abilities and fears them. 

When his eyes drift back to the landscape outside the windshield, his gaze catches on Soap watching them through the rearview. He struggles to remember if the mirror used to be angled down that far or if Soap had intentionally moved it to watch them. 

“So things are getting pretty serious?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the poorly paved road in front of him. Although he says it jokingly, Ghost can see the underlying curiosity, maybe even a twinge of jealousy. 

“We’re not doing this right now Johnny.” Ghost grumbles, keeping his arms tight over his chest, as if they could create a barrier against Soap’s prying eyes. He knows better. Years of using little to no communication during deployment meant that learning each other's body language was critical, especially in cramped bunks. 

Soap just shakes his head, still not taking his eyes off the road. Ghost can practically watch the countdown until his next snarky remark. A slow scrunch of his brow, followed by a slight downturn of his mouth, before- right on the mark, Soap drags a rough hand down the left side of his face before finally speaking. 

“Has she seen you without your mask?” 

Ghost’s eyes snap to Soap’s, still waiting for biting words to follow, to snap at a tender spot only he knows how to find. Instead it’s something much, much, worse. 

“Just remember what happened last time.”

The words slither through the air between them, squeezing around his ribs before sliding down to stoke the coals of fear burning in his stomach. The cab of the truck is too small and suddenly the heat of Flash’s body pressed so close is so present in his mind that if he doesn’t back away he might just- stop. Stop.

“Pull over.” He mumbles, staring into the dead space between horizon and road. 

Soap obliges wordlessly, slowing the truck to a slow roll before stopping in a cloud of dust on the shoulder. Ghost steps out, stumbling over the edge of the pavement as he braces his hands against his knees and heaves great breaths of warm desert air. 

The sound of a door opening behind him has his shoulders raising to his ears, a poor imitation of hackles. 

“Stop!” He clears his throat before lowering his voice and trying again. “I’m fine. Get back in the truck.” 

But the sound of footsteps persists, light and barely audible, despite the thin layer of gravel coating the road and landscape around them. When he turns, Flash is standing behind him. Her face is pink with sleep, an impression of the seatbelt running from her mouth to her ear, and one side of her hair has been rubbed upward, making her braided hair lopsided. When her eyes fall on his hunched shoulders, the freckled bridge of her nose scrunches. 

“Whats going on?” She asks suddenly, growing more aware. “Are you getting sick?” 

When he doesn’t answer, she steps closer, resting a hand between his shoulder blades. Ghost can't help the low sound that pushes from his chest. She keeps it there, rubbing circles into the expanse between his shoulder blades. 

“It’s okay,” Flash starts, still soothing his hunched shoulders back down. “I get sick too, just on plane rides. I don’t know what it is.” She laughs once, bright and musical. “Maybe the forty thousand feet in the air bit.” 

Ghost’s breaths come easier now, in through his nose and streamlined from his pursed lips, the way his psychiatrist had shown him. The small pouch of his pills sit comfortingly in his breast pocket, but he lets them stay there. Finally, he turns to face Flash, reluctantly letting the warmth of her palm fall from his back. 

“Yeah.” The word comes out staticky, like when the comms are just a bit too far apart. “That part is pretty shitty.” He doesn’t know why he’s agreeing with her. He’s never once felt an ounce of fear flying on a plane. There’s no point when everything is already so far out of his control. But when her lips split and reveal an amused smile he understands why. 

“C’mon.” Flash grasps his hand, pulling him back towards the truck. He hadn’t realized just how far he’d stumbled. “I’m sure we have something in the truck for nausea.” 

Ghost just nods and follows her lead, sliding smoothly onto the bench of the truck and shutting the door behind him. Flash carefully slips her pinky finger around his, squeezing tightly. And that single act sends a rush of heat through his chest both pleasant and burning. She knew. She knew damn well he wasn’t car sick. Soap says nothing.

Instead of folding his hands underneath his arms like usual, Ghost lets them be. One gently grasping the safety handle, and the other tucked neatly under Flash’s tracing fingers. And does his best to ignore the eyes watching them from the mirror. 

★Flash

Flash, in a desperate attempt to get out of the truck, barely manages to let it stop before bursting out and jogging a few short laps around the vehicle. 

“Jesus kid.” Soap swears, stepping out of the cab and stretching his arms overhead. “Weren’t you just sleeping like-” a disbelieving glance at his wristwatch, “three minutes ago.” 

“Four fucking hours.” She bites as Ghost slides from the back. “That’s basically abuse.” 

In a desperate attempt to relieve the cramping behind her thighs, Flash bends forward, slipping her hands under her sneakers. A relieved moan splits her lips, muffled into the fabric of her pants. Careful not to go light-headed, she slowly straightens out before reaching her hands above her and pushing her chest out. It feels fucking amazing.

When she finishes and turns to the two guys behind her, she can’t help but laugh. Ghost’s face is turned away, eyes downcast in a way that promises Flash his cheeks are burning hot. Soap glances between the two of them before laughing loudly and stalking off toward the large building that, in Flash’s humble opinion, does not look anything like a farmhouse. If it weren’t for the large yellow barn nestled into the field next to it, the large concrete building would probably look like a prison. 

Flash is about to follow after Soap, both eager to get to the briefing, and much to her annoyance, nervous to see Alejandro and Valeria, when a gentle hand grasps her elbow. She turns to find Ghost, still hovering near the car, one hand held behind his back. 

“Whats up?” She asks, eyeing his hidden hand and taking a few curious steps towards him. 

“I uh-” Ghost stutters in a way that two days before would leave Flash shellshocked, but after seeing him so vulnerable the night before, she just nods for him to continue. “I have something for you.” 

“Ooh a gift?” Flash says, trying to peek around his body, but the bulk of his shoulders easily blocks her vision. 

“It’s nothing, really. Just something small. I didn’t think you had one and you were looking at it. Then there was that guy.” He rambles, ducking his head slightly. 

Flash has to squeeze her hands into fists to keep from grabbing his face and kissing him. Even through the mask would be better than nothing, but the few moments of silence that lapse between his rambles and her watching the way his hand endearingly fidgets at his belt helps her somewhat regain her self control. 

“If it’s important to you. It’s important to me.” She says softly and steps closer. “Now let me see.” 

He hesitates for one more second before pulling his hand from behind him and showing her a folded blue square in his hand. Flash’s heart stops for a moment and then starts back up so fast that she nearly passes out. It’s the cerulean scarf she’d seen at the market.

“Ghost-” Her voice catches as she reaches up and pulls the silk from his hand, mouth suddenly dry.

“I just thought it would help, the dust is bad and- I think I got the right one, the blue right-” 

He’s cut off with a huff as Flash throws herself against him. She wraps her arms around his chest squeezing hard. The rough velco of his vest scrapes her cheek, and something is pushing painfully against her ear, but she doesn’t let go. 

“Thank you.” She says quietly. 

The words, muffled into his chest, are barely audible. He doesn’t respond, but a few moments later, she feels a hand rest lightly against her shoulderblades. When she doesn’t let go, his other hand slides up, pulling her into him.  

“Let's head in,” Flash says, reluctantly pulling away and sliding her hand into his, before tugging him towards the "farmhouse". 

They make it just a few paces before he slides his hand from hers and takes two measured steps in front of her. Flash is about to question him, but leaning against the open door of the farmhouse is Alejandro, handsome as ever.

"We've been waiting." He nods to Ghost, shifting out of the doorway to let him pass. Flash watches him go with a confused glare. "Everything okay Rubia."

"Yeah," She breathes, brushing past him without looking at his face. "Everything's fine."

_____

Much to her disappointment. The briefing is not as entertaining as she’d thought it would be. Both Alejandro and Price would be making final decisions tonight. This briefing was only to go over the information they already knew. But she still listened diligently and took her notes at appropriate times. Alejandro didn’t do so much as glance in her direction as he spoke, both he and Valeria remained impassive during the meeting. It made Flash wonder how many of the people sitting around her had shared a bed with them. Her eyes land on Gaz, who seems to be a little too focused on Alejandro's hands as he retraces a path on one of the topograph maps. She glances over to Ghost, hoping to point his attention to Gaz and his drooling mouth, but he stays facing the front of the room. Even when she stares at him, practically burning holes into the back of his masked head, he doesn’t turn around. So when the lights shut off and the projector whirs to life, she grabs the pen resting next to his paper, making a point to doodle little hearts at the corner of her paper when he finally looks her way. Instead of shaking his head and laughing like he usually does in response to her minor thievery, he pulls another pen from his pocket and holds it in his hand. 

Annoyed at Ghost's sudden coldness and bored out of her mind, Flash turns to Gaz to whisper in his ear, 

“Do you think if you stare at his crotch enough, you’ll see through his pants?” 

His face goes bright red and a stuttered cough cuts off the briefing. 

“You okay Gaz?” Alejandro asks, raising a dark brow as Gaz hits his chest with a fist, still coughing.

“Yes, sir. Fine.” Gaz mutters. 

Alejandro continues on, using a meter stick to draw an invisible line down a projected image of a warehouse. 

Flash leans back to Gaz’s ear again, feeling malicious. “Is that what you call him in the bedroom? Sir?” 

This time Gaz chokes, coughing wildly as Flash bites back a smile and forces her brows to pinch in concern as she pats his back. 

She does get Ghost's attention this time, but much to her disappointment, yet again, it's just a small shake of his head. Flash glares pointedly back.

“What is going on. Are you sure you’re okay?” Alejandro asks again. 

“I’m going to go grab some water and air, I’ll be right back.” Gaz bites out between coughs. 

Flash lasts another two and a half minutes after he leaves before muttering something about checking on Gaz and wandering out of the room and down the hall. 

It’s here, with fists shoved deep into her pockets that she passes a set of double doors propped open to reveal a small training room. It's modest compared to the one back at their base. The back wall is decorated with an assortment of real and fake weapons and a thick green mat covers the stained cement. A bright red sign nailed to one of the doors threatens suspension to anyone who brings the weapons out of the confinements of the training room. She's about to walk by, wanting to slip out of the building and explore the barn. But her curiosity wins over and she hovers in the dim hallway.

Once Flash is there, watching the fighting pairs, she's surprised it took her so long to hear the grunting and unmistakable thud of bodies bouncing off worn foam. One of the men leaning against the back wall, who'd been intently watching a rather unfair match play out, starts towards her in a slow prowl. The challenge is clear, confidence leaks from him like a poison, and his eyes scan her body, lingering for a few seconds on her chest. She recognizes him from the meeting, but can't quite remember his name. Liam? Larson?

"Get er' Lucas!" One of the guys calls, following with a series of whooping howls. She sends him a withering glare and is about to stalk away to find Gaz when her drifting eyes catch on a brightly colored package peaking from Lucas' pocket. Maybe just one match and then she'd find him.

"What do you say Rubia? Just you and me?" He stops just a few feet from her, close enough that she can smell the sweat that sticks the front of his shirt to his muscled chest.

She has to bite back a laugh at the stuttered way Alejandro's pet name falls from his lips. A far cry from the other man's smoothness. It's not that Lucas isn't attractive, his body is well-shaped and thick dark hair falls into a pair of bright hazel eyes. If she wasn't so busy at the academy she might have even gone for a guy like him. But all she can think of is Ghost's kind eyes and if she's being honest, the shape of his ass in one of the heli harnesses. She doesn't have to see Lucas's backside to know it'll pale in comparison.

"I don't know." Flash looks him up and down, letting the boredom in her eyes shine. "You look a little," she waves one hand around as if it will pull the word from thin air "small."

Lucas flinches back, obviously not used to being rejected. 

"Then it should be quick, no?" His smile is back now, and just as flirty as before.

She relents, “Rules?” She prompts, stretching her shoulders and removing the belt from her waist, doing her best to ignore the pinch as her stitched skin pulls taught.

“Clean fight. First one to tap loses.” 

Flash nods and smiles widely, more than eager to move after sitting for the past five hours. Lucas smiles wide, almost looking feral with a pair of pointed canines.

She follows him to the mat and they square up, him guarding high over his jaw and her standing still, hands at her side. Someone behind them shouts a command and Lucas is lunging, striking hard and fast towards her exposed midsection. She easily sidesteps him, having seen the flex in his exposed calf muscle just a moment before. Childs play. 

Flash lets him lunge, easily dancing around his brutally thrown fists and elbows as he tires himself out. She can already tell he’s used to using his weight as an advantage rather than a tool. Much like every other man she’s fought.

After a particularly poorly timed left hook, Lucas lets out a frustrated growl. Taking pity on him, Flash sighs before darting towards him. In just under two seconds, she’s slipped her leg behind his knees and with one shove of her elbow has him sprawled on the mat, blinking widely. In another second, she’s locked her bicep over his neck and tightened her legs around his chest in a breath-squeezing grip. 

When he doesn’t stop squirming, her bicep tightens around his throat, "Tap." She orders, calm and unwavering. "You've already lost."

Nails scrape at her grip leaving angry red scratches against the back of her hand and wrist. She winces but doesn't relent. His gasping lips have turned pale and the veins at his forehead bulge against sweating skin. If he doesn't tap he'll pass out, she's sure of it. His fingers scratch at her hand again, but this time they’re fumbling and slow. The men surrounding her are shouting at him to fight back and Flash wonders if they're too ignorant to see that the lack of oxygen has left his limbs useless, or if they're just that dumb.

Just as his eyes start to roll back, there's a weak tap against her outer thigh. She immediately releases and Lucas scrambles back against the mat, shoving her to the side in the process, and hunches over, violently coughing between gags.

"What the fuck." He spits out, still curled into himself, red face inches above the dirty mat. "What the fuck is wrong with you."

Pushing herself to her feet, Flash stalks towards him and jabs a finger at his sweating glare. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She wasn't about to let him make her feel guilty, he'd started it, she just saw it through.

Lucas just stares at her with bloodshot eyes and the room around them stays silent. Nosy Bastards.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with you." She continues, stepping forward to rub the dirty tread of her shoe against the white of his shirt before leaning down, their faces just inches apart. "You're too slow."

He says nothing, even as she reaches over and snatches the cellophane bag of sweets from his pocket.

_____

Happily picking through the bag of candy she’d so fairly won, Flash wanders the property kicking rocks and half-assedly looking for Gaz. Just before she's about to turn and head back, she stumbles upon a smell that she can only describe as animal.

When Flash stops in front of the open barn doors, her jaw drops. One of the biggest horses she’d ever seen stands before her, lazily chewing on a mouthful of hay. She has to crane her head upward to see the ginger mane falling in neat tendrils over a huge, muscled neck. It's as beautiful as it is terrifying.

The horse's nose is soft like plush velvet when she runs a single finger across it, and surprisingly warm. The deep chestnut of its eyes stays relaxed and half-lidded so she strokes it again, this time with her palm. When she does, warm puffs of air blow against her hand and she jumps back, heart racing. The horse seems to sense this and with its long, nimble legs, lowers itself to the ground, nestling into the dry hay bed at her feet. Following it down, Flash drops to her knees and sits back against her heels, feeling braver now that they’re nearly face to face. Well, face to muzzle.

“You aren’t so mean. Huh?” She speaks softly, pressing her palm between the dark, watchful eyes and feeling the warmth of its skin. “Are you a boy or a girl?”

“She’s a girl.”

Flash falls backward, feet slipping from under her in the slick hay when a deep voice calls out from behind her. But large hands are under her arms in seconds, pulling her up and to her feet.

Ghost stands in front of her now, mouth quirked into a small smile under the cotton of his mask. “That’s the second time I’ve had to keep you from knockin’ yourself out.” His hands linger, squeezing her biceps reassuringly before dropping to his sides. “How often does this happen when I’m not around?”

“I- what?” Flash’s heart still beats wildly in her chest, partially from nearly cracking her head off the paved ground, but mostly from the looming presence in front of her. “What?”

“She’s a girl.” Ghost continues, choosing not to repeat his question. “Maple I think. One of Alejandro’s first girls. She’s a sweetheart.” He steps closer to Flash and for a moment she thinks he’s about to grab her, but then he’s reaching past her to rest a hand on the patch of cream-colored fur her own had been resting against just minutes before. Maple's eyes close and she pushes against his hand, moving to nose his palm. Ghost responds by loosening each finger of his glove before pulling it off and tucking it in his waistband. Flash watches intently as he returns his hand to the spot and smooths it upwards, following the patch of cream between her eyes.

“Do you still have that candy?”

Ghost's voice snaps her back and with burning cheeks, she pulls the small plastic bag from her pocket, feeling a pinch of shame at being caught but called out. “How did you know?”

“One of the guys was complaining.” He starts before turning to look at her, his brow furrows slightly at the scratches covering the back of her hand and forearm, but it eases when he glances up at her face. “And your mouth is bright red.”

Handing the bag to him, Flash uses the back of her other hand to wipe at her lips but it’s no use. “Horses can have candy?” She asks, now scrubbing her mouth with the sleeve of her fleece.

Ghost responds by pulling one of the round, brightly colored candies and placing it on the flat of his bare palm before extending it to Maple.

“Some.” He speaks lowly and in a calming tone that Flash knows is for the horse's sake, but she can't help but melt all the same. Maple picks the candy up with the soft skin of her lips before crunching it between a powerful set of teeth. “This stuff is just dyed sugar. They sell it everywhere.”

Then he’s grabbing her hand, flattening her fingers with a gentle swipe before setting a purple one on her palm. It's only when he starts to move her arm towards Maple's giant mouth that she jerks back, closing the candy tight in her palm. It’s sticky and in just a few seconds starts to melt against the heat of her skin.

“Keep your hand flat.” His hand curls around her forearm to grasp her wrist. “I promise she won’t bite. Open.”

At his command, Flash opens her palm and with shaking fingers, lets him guide her arm outwards with his hand wrapped reassuringly around her wrist. At the last moment, Flash shuts her eyes tight, not wanting to see the grisly sight of her fingers being ground to a pulp. But she’s only met with Maple’s warm breath and the tickle of whiskers as her soft lips take the sticky candy from her hand. A nervous laugh bubbles up from her own mouth, a mix of relief and joy at the strange feeling.

“See,” Ghost's voice vibrates from a warm chest, nearly pressed against her back. His hand still grips her wrist, “I told you she wouldn’t bite.”

“I trust you.” Flash says to their hands, “I just don’t trust the horse.”

“Give her another. This time with your eyes open.” She doesn’t ask how he knew her eyes were closed.

With open eyes, Flash lets Ghost set another candy, a bright orange one, onto her palm. Her wrist, still encompassed by his gentle hand, moves on its own accord towards Maple’s brown muzzle. She takes it just as sweetly as before, in a soft kiss of whiskers.

Flash does laugh this time, a sweet laugh that has her falling back a step with the effort, right into Ghost.

When she turns to apologize, still laughing, the words die on her tongue. He stares down at her, eyes wide and burning with so much emotion her breath catches in her throat. His own breath comes shakily through his nose as he brings a hand up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear before dropping it back to his side.

“Do you want to ride her?” He whispers, still staring intently at her face.

“Fuck no.” Flash breathes. But she doesn’t stop him as he pulls a saddle off a post and begins to strap it to a now-standing Maple. She doesn’t stop him when he lifts her like a rag doll and places her in the saddle, or when he gracefully swings himself up to sit behind her. And she doesn’t stop him when he reaches around her to hold the brown leather reins and guide them out and onto a dirt trail. She could have, but she doesn’t.

She’d severely underestimated the proximity that riding a horse with someone requires. Every inch of their bodies molded together, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. It’s glorious. She can’t help but settle back a bit, reveling in the way his arms wrap around her shoulders.

The setting sun shines orange and yellow across the tan field, turning it into an ocean of waving ochre honey, and the rest of the green flowing forest into a golden meadow. It seeps into her very bones, dragging her heartbeat to a dull thump that sounds in time with the gentle rocking of Maple's steps. She shifts further back, now laying entirely across Ghost's chest and nestling into the warm spot between his neck and shoulder. It smells delightfully of sweat, oranges, and dirt. He stiffens at first, she doesn’t know if it’s surprise or discomfort, but he relaxes just a moment later, resting his chin gently atop her head. And there, nestled in the warmth of his embrace and lulled by the swaying steps of sweet Maple. Flash closes her eyes and wills her mind to remember every detail, begs her body not to forget the gentle shift of muscle against her back as Ghost directs them down a rough path he seems to know so well.

“You’ve done this before?” Her question is quiet, spoken through a drowsy fog.

Ghost moves the reins to one hand and uses the other to gently knit their fingers together, the way she’d done in his truck. Here in her sleep-drunk state, the effort it takes for him to fit his fingers between her own smaller ones is too comical. “Yes,” His thumb rubs up and down the ridges of her knuckles, no doubt soothing his own nerves, “I’ve spent a lot of time here. Alejandro has done a lot for me.”

“With the horses?”

“Well,” he starts, hesitatingly, “A few years ago, I was having a rough time. Things were not going my way.” A large breath presses his chest tightly against her back “Alejandro let me stay with him for as long as I needed.”

“So you became a cowboy?” She teases, squeezing his hand tight.

“Not right away,” he laughs lightly and Flash involuntarily presses back into the sound, “I was scared shitless. Alejandro had to practically force me into the barn. But then I learned more about them. How compassionate and loving they are. Did you know they can have a whole conversation with just their ears?”

Flash hums encouragingly, hoping he’ll keep talking, if only to feel his voice against her back.

“They can love too. They’ll bond to someone, and love them the same way a human would. Real love.” An eager note shifts his voice, something Flash had never heard before.

“And did you bond with Maple?” Flash speaks into the soft cotton of his jacket.

“No,” a sigh tickles the soft hair at her nape “though we did get close. I have another horse. Her name is Rose.”

“Pretty name.” Flash hums “Where is she?”

Ghost stiffens again, and this time it takes him a few more beats to settle back and even longer to respond.

“She’s being cared for by my neighbor.”

“What’s she look like?” Flash’s voice is drifting, and the lids of her eyes seem impossibly heavy. She starts to imagine his home. A cupboard filled with chipped mugs and a wooden drying rack next to a deep basin sink. She’s decided that he’s not one to use a dishwasher.

“Golden hair,” his hand reaches up to tug at a strand of her own and she bats a hand at him, completely missing through her half-lidded gaze. “Blue eyes.” He’s brushing his hand along her cheekbone now and the feeling is like a magnet, tugging her eyes closed with a final drag down the bridge of her nose. “And a fiery temperament.”

“Are you calling me a horse?” Flash mumbles, half incoherent. But Ghost manages to decipher it and laughs breathily.

“No, I’m just noticing some similarities.” His hand reaches up to smooth the hair at her temple. Its awfully delightful.

“You keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep.” She threatens, even though they both know she’s far past salvation.

“That’s okay.” His hand drops to wrap around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. “I won’t let you fall.”

“Okay.”

And for the first time since the incident, Flash falls asleep without the anxiety of what she’ll miss, what will pull her from her sheets, screaming and clawing. For the first time in weeks, she falls asleep in the sweet embrace of safety.

A/N: You cannot tell me that Flash isn't an ass woman. She's going to be grabbing handfuls soon. 

Also the idea of Ghost hyper fixating on horses AUGGHH HES TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

Anywaysss, thank you for sticking with me through all of this. I love all of you and will talk to you again very soon!

#Ghost x reader #Ghost x female oc #SImon riley #Cod fic #Simon Ghost Riley #Alejandro Vargas #Valeria #Modern Warfare 2 #Ghost stories #Headcannons #John soap mactavish #John Price #MW2 #Gaz Garrick

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Old friends [E. M]

Adult!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: It's been years since you were last in Hawkins and when you come back you get into one of those dating activities. Who would have thought that love had always been so close

A/N: I saw these photos and couldn't help but think of Eddie as an adult and of course write about it. He is so fucking handsome.

You sighed, trying to convince yourself that this had been a good idea before walking into the cafe where a couple of people were already sitting. You never thought you would be so desperate to go to a blind date event, but being 28 years old and single was reason enough to do it. You looked around for the table you'd been assigned to in the mail letter and walked over to the table marked number 5 to take a seat.

You hadn't set foot in Hawkins since you were eighteen and when you got there you noticed that everything had changed drastically. It went from being a town to almost a city, growing enormously in land and population, so the hope of finding a potential partner was valid. You only hoped that some polite and handsome man had moved in, but you settled for someone who had some decency. 

You adjusted your clothes a little and began to look to the sides, paying attention to some couples who were already formed and other people who, like you, were still waiting. To kill time, you ordered a coffee, but when the waitress brought it, your companion still hadn't arrived. Little by little you saw how people were sitting at their respective tables, but after 10 minutes the chair in front of you was still empty. After 15 minutes of waiting, you felt too silly and began to collect your things with disappointment. It was obvious that of all the people it was going to be you who was going to stand up, your luck for love was disgusting and had just been demonstrated.

"I'm not going in there!" you heard someone, complaining from the door. He was a grown man who was practically being dragged away by three young men; one with curly hair and chubby cheeks, one with black hair and a long face, and one with brown hair and bangs. The four of them wore a shirt with the same print and your mind wanted to remember where you had seen it, but it was useless. Maybe they were just a band or something "I don't need a girlfriend!"

“Of course you need one, so shut up and come on in”

“Anyway, when do these things work? You guys signed me up for this shit without me knowing and then lured me here”

“Because we know how you were going to react. You are almost 30 years old, if you don't look for someone now you will be single for life”

"But I can be your kids' cool uncle!" he complained. It was more than obvious that the man was your blind date and it was also obvious that he didn't want to be there. Honestly, you hadn't even paid attention to his face, because you preferred to stay watching the table with a bitter smile.

You left a ticket to pay for your drink and then started to walk to the exit, while the four men were still arguing.

“Here it says the number of your table…” said the one with curly hair, reviewing the sheet that the organization sent “It's number 5, it's over there” he exclaimed, at the same time that you passed by his side.

“It's empty, genius”

"Yes, I'm tired of waiting" you replied. The four of them turned to see you and you could finally notice the man. He was handsome, it had to be admitted, with fair skin and reddish-brown hair that was slightly curled at the ends. His face grew a beard and a mustache that didn’t touch, while his eyes were chocolate brown. From the look he was giving you, you couldn't tell for sure if he was scared, embarrassed, or even shocked “And you obviously don't want to be here and as much as I tried to convince myself, neither do I. So congratulations, problems are over” you murmured with a smile. You didn't have to feel resentment, the guy didn't owe you anything and you yourself had just heard that those guys had signed him up secretly. Perhaps this had been God's sign to tell you not to leave things in the hands of fate “Goodbye”

“Wait” he stopped you, again the curly-haired one “My friend wants to stay, only he's a little nervous. You're going to stay with this lady, right, Eddie?" he asked, more of an order than a suggestion, but when you looked at the aforementioned he still had that goofy expression.

“Yes, I changed my mind” he managed to say. Maybe he hadn't seen you when he was arguing with his friends, but surely he was going to stay just because you were pretty. At the end of the day, you were doing the same thing. "Sorry I'm late and... huh... is it okay if you come back to the table and I'll sit with you?" he asked politely. 

"We're leaving, you guys have fun," the dark-haired man told you, looking at the man with a mischievous smile before dragging his two friends out of the place. The man's name echoed in your head as you searched for the answer to why he seemed so familiar to you: Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

"Sorry if I'm wrong, but isn't your name Y/N Y/L/N by any chance?" he asked him. You widened your eyes in surprise as you heard your full name leave his lips.

"How…?"

"You were at Hawkins Highschool, Class of '86, right?" he insisted. You were racking your brain to remember who it was until he spoke again "I'm Eddie Munson"

And then everything clicked in your head.

"Oh my gosh, I knew I knew you from somewhere!" you exclaimed, grinning "Your shirt is from that thing you had at school, the club of… huh…"

"Dungeons and Dragons"

"Yes, that!" you replied, pointing a finger at him. You had never been a great friend of the boy, you only remembered him because you had shared the last year of high school with him and that you had shared a couple of words. But the memory you had of him was of a guy with wild hair and a chaotic attitude, nothing to do with the man who was sitting in front of you "You cut your hair and grew a beard"

"Yes," he laughed, nervously scratching the back of his neck with his hand. You were silent for a couple of seconds, not knowing how to ease the tension that had built between you until you let out a sigh and spoke again.

“Hey, I'm serious, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can go and we'll pretend like nothing happened."

"Nope! I didn't– I didn't mean to give you that impression, I'm sorry” he explained, with a lost puppy look. Why had he acted so differently from one second to the next? You didn't know “It's just… I really don't trust these things too much and I just thought it would be a disaster. I don't think that something like getting a girlfriend is just coming to talk to a stranger."

“So you don't want a girlfriend” 

"I want a girlfriend, but... I didn't want it to be just any person, okay?" he explained to you. He sounded reasonable. "But now that you're here we can chat, if you want," he added sheepishly. You really didn't think you were going to get very far, but what difference did it make? Even getting some quality time with a former partner was enough at that point.

To be honest, Eddie Munson had never been a guy who attracted your attention physically, but you had to confess that you felt something different when you saw him again. Maybe you were like that love at second sight thing.

"The employees left us with some questions that could help us get to know each other," you said to break the silence, pointing with your finger at a sheet that was on your side of the table. The boy took it and looked at it carefully.

“Well, we can skip the name, school, and all that,” he laughed, glancing over the next ones on the list. “The next one on the list says: What aspirations do you have for a relationship? Something serious, occasional, just a friendship…”

"I'm a person of serious relationships" you answered, although it was most likely that he didn't even care "You know, someone with whom we can adopt a dog, live together, or be able to wash our clothes in the same washing machine to save water" you replied. Eddie looked at you with a small smile and nodded.

"I'm also looking for something serious" he replied. He had confused you a bit, hadn't he specifically yelled that he didn't need a girlfriend? “And please completely erase what I said from your memory, I… I'm here and it would be a shame to miss out on a date, right?” he argued. At least he was trying to fix the situation and you wouldn't be so proud as not to ignore his initial screams. So you decided to recover that enthusiasm with which you had arrived; you wanted to get a boyfriend or (at least) start the process of having one.

And the guy in front of you wasn't such a bad choice.

"Where do you work?" you asked, continuing down the list. He smiled widely when he saw that you had complied with his request.

“I have had a mechanical workshop on the outskirts of the city for a few years and sometimes I give guitar lessons”

“Great” you replied. For some reason it made perfect sense for him to have both jobs.

"Did you leave here to study at the university?" he said, but it was more than obvious.

“Yes, I studied a Linguistics degree at Stanford and after a year they offered me to teach a middle school class. I have been working as a teacher ever since."

"Linguistics?" he muttered, as if he was the best joke in the world. "I'm not surprised, you were the best in Ms. O'Donnell's class” 

"How come you still remember that?" you exclaimed. Not even you remembered the name of that teacher and his memory was fresh as if it had been yesterday.

“Because that class was the one that kept me in school for two more years” he complained “It wasn't until you helped me a couple of times that I was able to pass the subject” he confessed. From the way he expressed himself, it seemed that he had recognized you the first moment he saw you "Don't you remember?"

"I feel so embarrassed, I'm sorry" you whispered with a rather embarrassed tone. Eddie didn't even look upset, just a little amused.

"It's okay. That was a long time ago," he smirked, feeling a little intense from telling you so many things he wasn't supposed to remember. "Hell, if I'd known I was coming on a date I would have worn something better than the shirt I wore for most of the high school."

"I hope it's not the same one because that would be... disgusting" you laughed, while he imitated you. Maybe it was too soon to talk, but you liked the sudden trust that had formed between you.

"I want you to be honest with me, Y/N, can you?"

"Yes, sure"

“Could you really see me as something to go on a second date with or do you just want to chat with me as a friend? I promise not to get mad, I just don't want to get the wrong idea,” he muttered, looking shyer all of a sudden.

"Do you remember that here you are the one who flatly refused to go on a date?"

“And like I said before, I changed my mind. I didn't know it was about you” he exclaimed. Your brow furrowed at this, why would it be any different if you were the one he was dating? And your mind suddenly knew that the answer was very simple: you had seemed pretty to Eddie. There was nothing wrong with him letting himself be guided by the physical, because the first thing to fall in love was always a good view.

You, for your part, were silent for a moment, pondering the pros and cons of deciding to go ahead with this. The first; he was pretty. And I say again that the physical is not everything, but you were not going to despise a pretty face like that. The second; he was charming even if he didn't mean to. He had only smiled at you a couple of times and you had already realized that he had charisma. And third (probably the most important thing in adult life); he had a steady job. It was an almost impossible combination to find on a blind date… it was almost as if God had decided to reward you for all the years of bad luck in love.

“Now that I know you're not that upset with the idea, I'm open to the possibilities. I don't know what can happen at this time, but maybe if you ask me this again at the end of the date, I'll tell you if you convinced me or not” you exclaimed with a small smile, while you shrugged your shoulders.

"I can cook very well if that helps," he added. You continued reading the questions that were left on the list and when you finished them you continued with some of your own. You realized that you and Eddie had several things in common, but the most important thing was the attitude that he was having towards you. He was very joking and almost all the time he had a smile on his face. When you talked, he paid attention to you, he was kind and also respectful. If you had to find fault with him it would only be the excessive way he moved his hands when he spoke, but even that you found extremely cute.

You discovered that after graduating he had not continued studying, because he felt that somehow he had to repay his uncle for everything he had done for him. He no longer lived in Forest Hills Trailer Park, but now he rented a small apartment not far from where your parents' house was (now yours) and he still had the same love for rock as he did when he was young.

After a couple of drinks you felt more lively and also the food helped so that you could talk to him as if you were lifelong friends. Although, technically, you did know him all your life.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you something, but don't lie, okay?" you said, pointing a finger at him as he took a sip of his coffee. It was a cremaet, a drink he had only ordered for the alcohol it contained.

"Spit it out"

"Have you ever been unfaithful?"

“Never,” he replied, without giving it much thought, “That doesn't go with my Munson doctrine. And besides, few people noticed me, and I was still going to be such a bastard to cheat them?” he said. You laughed, because he had a point there “What about you, Miss Y/L/N? Are you a heartbreaker?”

“The only hearts I think I ever broke was by rejecting them”

“You rejected my friend Jeff once,” he told you as if he had been prepared to say it. You were surprised again because you didn't even remember “He wanted to invite you to the movies, but you told him you weren't interested. You were very sweet actually, although the boy came crying with us."

"Jesus Christ, tell me that's not true," you said, covering your face with both hands in embarrassment "Is that why you remember me?"

“It's one of the reasons, yes,” he laughed. The truth was that Eddie had also had a little crush on you, but he had never said anything to his friends, or anyone really. He liked seeing you in his class, but he was too shy to even try to talk to you. It was funny how life took turns "But Jeff fell in love with another girl the following week, don't worry about that"

“What a relief” you laughed, playing with a strand of your hair. It was already getting dark outside the establishment and you realized that you had been there all afternoon. Eddie seems to have noticed what you were looking at, too.

"Do you have to go now?"

"I wouldn't want to," you said sadly. You still had many things to resolve in the house, which had previously belonged to your parents, to which you had moved.

"Okay, we actually spent more time here than the rest," he exclaimed, pointing to the tables around you. There were no longer any of the couples that were there initially, except for you "How did you come here?" he asked him politely, as both of you got up from your seat.

"Walking"

"I'll take you home," he offered, with a smile. You weren't going to refuse to spend a little more time with him, so you agreed, and after leaving you got into the black pickup that he had parked outside. Or well, that his 'children', as he had called them before, had been left there.

"It's pretty," you said, referring to the vehicle.

“My girl? Yes, she is,” he replied, patting the board fondly.

"Will I have to compete with a truck?" you asked wanting to laugh and putting on your seatbelt while Eddie imitated you.

"And against my guitar," he added, wrinkling his nose slightly. He was adorable to you, something you never thought a grown man would evoke in you.

The walk to your house was relatively silent in terms of words, as you preferred to concentrate on the sounds of the latest Iron Maiden album blaring through the speakers. When you finally got home, he parked and now he stepped forward to open the door for you, like a gentleman.

"Thanks for bringing me," you exclaimed, standing on the sidewalk while Eddie stepped in front of you. You could see him biting his lower lip gently.

“It was a pleasure” he replied. You were very close to each other, to the point where you could smell his cologne, which combined with the leather smell on his jacket. It seemed that you were mesmerized by him, unable to move back to enter your house "Hey, Y/N"

"Yes?"

“Is it too inappropriate or too hasty if I… huh…?”

"You kiss me?" you asked with a smile, knowing perfectly well that was what he was referring to and wanting to spare him the nerves of saying it out loud. You saw a flirtatious smile spread across Eddie's face.

“I still don't know if you want to go on a second date with me. I thought this could either help convince you or disappoint you” he argued.

"Sounds logical to me" you replied playfully, licking your lips in anticipation and looking into his eyes "Go ahead" you exclaimed. It had been a long time since you felt this nervous in someone's company and the way he took your waist made you feel even shakier. There wasn't much of a detour, he simply leaned in to capture your lips with his and you felt his facial hair gently scrape into your skin. The kiss was barely a caress, hinting that he wanted to give things their due time. Even that made you realize that he was a great guy. As short as it had been, the kiss achieved its goal and you took it as some kind of free trial for something better. The comparison your brain had made, made you smile.

"And?"

"The beard tickles me, but I think I felt that spark between us" you murmured happily, seeing your date smile "And the truth is I never thought you would be like this"

“Like what?”

“Like so… lovely” you complimented him and you would even swear you saw a blush on his cheeks. Suddenly you felt like a teenager again “I'm happy to be back in Hawkins. Otherwise I never would have found you."

"Thanks to that and because they sneakily signed me up for this," he replied in the same tone. "But now I'm not complaining," he added, shrugging. You stayed silent for a while, just enjoying looking at each other and admiring the opposite face a little better. They were features you could get used to looking at.

“I am happy to inform you that I can now answer your question at the beginning and after comparing good points and bad points I think that I definitely want a second date”

“That feels like looking for an office job. You know, like those 'Thank you for coming, we'll call you' lines" he said and then heard you giggle "You have a very nice laugh" he admitted, in a sweet voice, causing your cheeks to turn red.

“I'll give you my phone number,” you murmured, taking a pen out of your bag and taking the back of his hand, “So you can call me when you want to go out.”

“What about tomorrow?” he asked, more excited than he intended, and you laughed.

“Not so fast, handsome. Take it easy”

"And the following week?" he continued, now being a bit more reasonable. You finished writing down the phone number and pulled it slightly with that same hand, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

"Sounds great," you replied, with a look that made your heart race.

“Then I'll call you,” he exclaimed happily. You said goodbye with a couple of words and then he got into his truck, looking at you from the driver's seat and waving goodbye, with that beautiful smile that he was beginning to make you fall in love with.

You walked through the door of your home and he went straight to Mike's house, where he knew perfectly well that the rest of the boys would be. Along the way he would decide if he should hit them or thank them.

As promised, you and Eddie went on another date the following week. And after that, many more followed, each time with fewer days apart.

As time went by you got to know more about him and each part you got to know you loved a little, just like he did with you.

Every time you went out on a date you spent an hour getting ready to look cute and had even gone shopping for a couple of new clothes to wear when you were with him. You felt like a teenager again, all nervous when he picked you up at his pickup.

There were no more kisses after the first one you'd shared, but he made sure to cut off his beard just in case the occasion arose, something that didn't go unnoticed by you. So he looked younger and when you kissed his cheek his skin felt soft.

Sometimes you went out to dinner, sometimes to the movies, and sometimes you just stayed at your place or at his place to talk.

Although you had applied since you moved back in, one day while you were with him you finally got a call to say there was an opening at the High School, for the position which (ironically) went to Ms. O'Donnell. A week later you started working and it got a little harder dating Eddie, but somehow you adjusted.

One night he finally asked the question you were waiting for and you didn't hesitate to say yes, thus becoming a couple. It was nice to have a romance again, to feel more butterflies in your stomach every time he kissed you, and to be able to talk to someone about your day, as well as hear what had happened in theirs. Plus, the sex was great, another thing you added to Eddie Munson's imaginary list of perks.

It had been many years since you were with someone, but another thing that you liked was this sense of independence that you had between you. He had his job, you had yours and so the few moments you had free to spend together you could make the most of them. There was no jealousy, no recriminations because 'you don't have time for me', because being a couple of adults you understood that things didn't always go according to plan. You liked the way you felt and the way he made you feel.

In addition, he was not ashamed of you, on the contrary, he made sure that you felt loved. You vaguely remembered one occasion, out of many, when he had shown it.

"Hello, miss, how can I help you?" asked a man, dressed in overalls. Not long ago he had become your boyfriend and you were in his mechanical workshop, holding a paper bag and with a shy smile on your face.

"I'm looking for Eddie" you answered and he called his name inside. It was the first time you were there and some of the workers looked at you with curiosity, while the rest you could feel a morbid look. You had started to feel uncomfortable when he showed up, dressed in a jean vest over a sleeveless black shirt.

“Y/N?” he said, happily, but also a little confused, as he rubbed his greasy hands on the fabric of his even greasy pants. "What are you doing here?"

“Am I interrupting something?” you asked first because you didn't want to disturb his working hours. The men had continued with their tasks, but they were still watching you out of the corner of their eyes.

"Not at all. What's going on?"

“I only had an hour off and thought I'd drop by and say hi. I brought you a bagel” you explained, seeing him flash you a sweet smile.

"Well you came at the right time, my guts were already starting to rumble" he joked, making you giggle. His employees were confused because although he was not an arrogant boss, he did not behave so smoothly in front of them either. Honestly, he didn't care if they saw him being soft, he was just focused on you. "Do you want to stay for a while?"

“No, no, I have to go back to school. I just wanted to drop it off for you,” you muttered, handing him the bag. He took it and placed it on a shelf, approaching you to kiss you on the lips, making sure not to touch you directly with his hands or any part of his clothes that could stain yours. He didn't mind being in front of everyone else, rather it was almost as if he was claiming you as his own with that simple gesture.

"Thanks, cutie. Good luck with your classes.”

"Good luck to you too" you smiled, fighting the urge to kiss him again "Huh, excuse me, have a nice day"

“Nice day” answered most of the workers, as they watched you leave. Eddie had a dreamy smile on his face and didn't realize all the men were looking at him until after a moment.

"What are you guys looking at?"

"You didn't tell us you had a girlfriend, boss," one of them mocked, making the others laugh a couple of times.

"Yes, I have one. And if any of you look at her in a way that I don't like, you get fired, got it?" he warned them, pointing a finger at them "Now get to work, I don't pay you to gossip."

Since then, both of you started doing small, but meaningful things for each other. Sometimes he would pick you up before work to take you and pick you up in the afternoon, you offered to wash his clothes (because you wanted to save water) and even bought him a toothbrush for the mornings when he woke up in your house.

One night you were having dinner together when he suggested having a little and that 'little' ended up turning into a bottle of wine for you and a bunch of beers for him.

"And then the asshole drove his car with the fucking busted gas tank and said it was my fault, man, that hole couldn't have been made by me even if I tried!" he said, still angry about the horrible customer who had come the day before. He was frowning and to get rid of it you ran a finger through the space between his eyebrows, shortly before leaning in for a kiss. When you were in public you didn't share too many kisses, but in private it was impossible not to pounce on his lips.

"Easy, Ed," you laughed, feeling him relax considerably after you'd kissed him. 

"I should be hugging you and not complaining about work stuff, right?"

"No, vent all you want" you intervened, separating a little to see him "You look cute angry”

"That's not true," he said, slurring his words and taking another drink of beer "In the end I fixed his mess, but I charged him double," he told you with a proud little smile, while shrugging his shoulders.

"Did you always think you'd end up having your own workshop or something?" you asked, while you were recharged on his chest, closing your eyelids a little to be able to rest from the exhausting day.

“Well, when I was young I used to spend a lot of time fixing up my van, and sometimes I'd ask old Bob to teach me a few tricks. So just before he died, I had enough money to buy the place from him and we've been doing fine ever since,” he murmured, pausing and slurring some other words. His hand drummed on your side and his lips were slightly hidden in your hair. "How was school today?"

“Ugh, the work isn't hard, those youngsters are a nightmare. They're the most creative at getting themselves into trouble and one literally tried to flirt with me today.” You snorted and he laughed out loud.

“If you had been my teacher, I would have flirted with you too. It's unfair that they have you and I had a grumpy old lady” he complained.

"I probably wouldn't have listened to you either," you said smiling, as you raised your face to look at him "Besides you have me right here now"

"And believe me, I still don't know what I did to deserve it," he murmured gently, leaning down to kiss your lips. You let out a shaky breath and somehow, he managed to slowly lean you in until you ended up lying on your back on the couch, putting his body on top of yours to continue kissing you "I like you a lot, Y/N"

“I realize” you laughed, feeling his lips spreading wet, short kisses over the skin of your face.

“If they had told me months ago that that Y/N from high school was going to let me kiss her and prepare dinner for me, I would have gone crazy”

"You recognized me from the moment you saw me, didn't you?” he asked. That question had been going around in your head during the time you had dated him, but you had never dared to ask it. Eddie laughed down your neck at this.

"Of course I do, how could I not?" he said, trying not to make a big deal out of it. His lips began to kiss as much skin as he could reach, making you sigh "It was true what I told you, I only entered because it was about you"

“You sound like you're in one of those cheesy movies” you smiled, trying to hide the blush that had spread across your cheeks, as you reached up to kiss him again. When you parted ways, Eddie spoke again.

“It's funny how we meet again after so many years. Who could imagine it, right? Having you back in my life, I mean”

“And I have some bad news for you,” you murmured, reaching up to caress his cheek gently. “I'm not planning on leaving,” you continued. He put on that mischievous smile of his and gave you a funny look.

“I have a worse one for you: I didn't plan to let you do it” he replied, and kissed you again sweetly.

TAG LIST: @sweetdayme4427 @smol-book-nerd

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn

[dutchvanwinkle]

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 7 - Dutch x Reader

TW for blood and self-injury with a blade – it's not self-harm or anything but I thought I'd drop the warning just in case. (It’ll make more sense when you read it – its still a bit insane but the idea was funny in my head lol) Anyway, eurovision is over and I'm sad so here's another chapter!

Here's the ao3 link!

Summary: The long-awaited wedding of Arthur and Charles finally takes place, with you and all your friends on the invite list.

Word count: 10,477

Content warnings: smut, self-injury

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

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After spending such an intimate weekend with Dutch, for the first time, you found yourself regularly missing him.  

It was a mutual feeling, and the two of you made the effort to escape away and see each other, a couple of times over Easter and a few over summer. He’d been understanding of your exam stress, and while second year had been tough for everyone, your group of friends had one thing to look forward to once it was over.  

Arthur and Charles’ wedding was to be a big affair according to John (and Dutch). In your limited experience with Arthur, you hadn't pinned him to be the lavish type but he was apparently a fan of the prospect of a big family get-together; luckily for you that included close family friends.  

John managed to get you all an invite, and you were unfortunate enough to draw the short straw and drive down with him. You had Sean, too, as he and Karen insisted on travelling separately due to their recent breakup. Thank the lord for headphones.  

How Abigail had managed to fall asleep you didn’t know, but she was using you as a pillow, her head slowly drooping onto your shoulder until she drifted off. It was a good excuse for you to tell Sean to shut it, and in fairness, he did attempt to limit his voice to the front of the car that carried him and John.  

The venue was a couple of hours away from the Van der Linde residence, and Mr Van der Linde had been kind enough to provide everyone with hotel rooms so they could enjoy the celebration in full. You could only imagine how eye-watering that bill was.   

John drove up the long path, Sean finally falling silent as he gaped at the size of the place. It was a big stately home, converted for use as a wedding venue and hotel. You marvelled as you passed the big fountain out front and through to the car park which was beginning to fill up nicely.  

You couldn’t escape the vehicle quick enough once John had pulled into a space and you’d gently woken Abigail. John popped the boot open, and you removed everyone’s bags to place on the floor.  

“God, what a place,” Abigail stretched after exiting the car, taking in the gorgeous surroundings.  

Upon closing the boot, the slight of Mr Van der Linde strutting towards the four of you with his arms outstretched graced your eyes. He was beaming, and you suspected he was thoroughly in his element surrounded by so much planning, organising, and people.   

He was wearing a dressed-down suit, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and you busied yourself with pulling up the handle of your suitcase as you simultaneously pulled yourself together.   

“Hello son,” he grabbed John for an embrace and ruffled his hair, which John did not appreciate, and spent all of 3 seconds trying to smooth it down again before giving up. “Hello all, good journey down?”  

The three of you nodded, Abigail instantly jumping in to answer. “Yes! Good, thank you.”  

Dutch offered her a kind smile, and she and Sean began following John to the house, you just behind them.  

“How lovely it is to see you again, my dear,” Dutch gently clapped his hand on your upper back, and it was impossible not to think about the expanse of that large palm as it remained on you while he led you towards the door.  

“You too, sir,” you smiled, and you really meant it. He enjoyed your endearment about as much as you enjoyed his.  

Thankfully, Dutch’s behaviour was not out of the ordinary for him, and John didn’t bat an eyelid. “Where are our rooms?” he asked, and Dutch gestured to the front desk, giving your names to the receptionist and handing out the appropriate room keys.  

“You’ve got two rooms, a triple and a double - I hope that’s okay?”  

“I’ll sleep anywhere, Dutch,” Sean laughed, and Abigail affirmed it was absolutely fine, thank you.   

You were glad to be sharing with Abigail and Karen, the three of you were always being interrupted by the boys and rarely had time alone together, so you were looking forward to a few days of quality time with them. 

“Shall we go drop out bags and freshen up?” you turned to Abigail who nodded and the two of you turned in the direction of the stairs.  

“We’ll do the same,” John sidled along beside you, Sean joining him.  

Briefly, you glanced back over your shoulder, for Dutch to shoot you a wink. You smirked disapprovingly and began the descent up the stairs.  

-  

Everything fine with the room?  

Yes, it’s lovely, thank you.  

You’re sure?  

Of course – why wouldn’t it be?  

If there was something wrong with it you’d be more than welcome to stay in mine.  

How hospitable of you.  

After plugging your phone in and setting it on the nightstand, you put your feet up on the bed and rested back, watching Abigail as she decided what to wear.   “You look fine in that,” you commented, and she scrunched her nose at you.  

“I’m too dressed down. This is a fancy place.”  

You huffed a laugh, her jeans and jumper were more than appropriate for the setting. “You reckon Johnny will finally ask you out and make this whole thing official?”  

“Ha. You’re funny.”  

“What?” you sat up, “all this romance might just give him the kick up the arse he needs.”  

“Maybe, I’m not getting my hopes up though. Why I had to get feelings for such a moron I have no idea,” she scoffed.  

With a laugh of agreement, you lay back once again and Abigail perched herself on the end of your bed, her expression still one of concern.   

“Mr Van der Linde seems to like you.”  

Thankfully, Abigail was looking between the tops in her hand as she gave you her remark and didn’t witness the panic pass over your face as all your blood drained from it. You earnestly hoped you hadn’t both gotten sloppy. “What?”  

She tilted her head towards you, in a casual manner that had you second-guessing her definition of like. “He’s just always nice to you,” she shrugged, an embarrassed smile creeping onto her face. “Any tips?”  

That calmed you somewhat, though you could still feel your pounding heartbeat as the shock began to subside. You didn’t suppose your uncouth methods of getting Dutch to like you were quite what Abigail had in mind. “I...” you pressed your lips together as you thought, “I’ve known him longer, I guess? I’ve never really noticed it.”  

Abigail tusked, letting out a belaboured sigh. “I bet he’d rather John was dating you.”  

You almost laughed aloud, but thankfully cleared your throat and avoided that display of insanity. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be inappropriate to mention that to Dutch later. “Trust me, that is not the case.”  

“You don’t know that,” she decided on a blouse, throwing the other top into her suitcase before she began changing.  

“Dutch likes you, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t.”  

“See,” she smarmed.  

“See what?”  

Abigail sat on her bed this time, facing you. “You’re even on a first-name basis with him.”  

“I get the feeling you’d know if he didn’t like you,” you nudged the subject back towards her, subtly deflecting her comment.  

“I suppose.”  

There was only a beat of silence before the door opened, Karen making an entrance and already dressed in her skirt and bodice of choice. “Well hello gorgeous girls!” she exclaimed.  

“Look at you!” Abigail hollered as she entered, and Karen did a showy twirl.   

“Oh, for fucks sake,” you stood from your bed, eyes scanning between your two lovely-looking friends, “now I have to change too.”  

“Well it’s a party,” Karen said proudly as she dropped her bag onto the last unclaimed bed.   

“Not until tomorrow,” you laughed, and found a nice middle ground of an outfit choice that wasn’t too dressy; you’d already packed your actual dress for the ceremony tomorrow.  

“How was the drive?” Abigail asked.  

Karen pulled off her boots and flopped onto her bed. “Alright! Javi’s car smells better than John’s, at least. I can only imagine how much worse his was given Sean was in there.”  

Abigail and you exchanged a knowing look.  

“What?” Karen grunted, catching the interaction.  

“You’ll have your tongue in his mouth by this time tomorrow,” you sighed, and Abigail chuckled in agreement.  

“I will not! It’s over this time. I mean it.”  

“Alright,” you held your hands up in surrender, “sure. We believe you.” You didn’t believe her one bit and suspected Abigail didn’t either.  

The three of you only had a brief opportunity to chat, and your dreams of girl time were squashed as you opened the door to the knock of your three idiot friends who proceeded to wander in with beers in hand. Maybe next year, now that you’d all finally agreed on a house to rent, you’d have more time for just that.  

“This place is something else,” Javier said as he entered. “Much too fancy for my blood.”  

“Same here,” you agreed, pushing Sean’s shoulder to move him up after he’d instantly claimed your bed as his seat; conveniently the furthest option from Karen. Thankfully, the three of you were all used to the permanent awkward tension that surrounded them by now. “What’s the plan for the rest of the afternoon?”  

“We’ve got dinner later, I think,” John scratched at his head, and it didn’t escape you that he’d sat closer to Abigail than in usual group settings. Perhaps the romantic atmosphere was having an effect on him after all.  

“Like a rehearsal dinner?” she asked.  

“Don’t think so. Just so we can all get together and catch up before tomorrow.”  

“Then we can drink after?” Javier questioned hopefully.  

“You can,” John scoffed. “I can’t be hungover at my brother’s wedding. Arthur’ll kill me.”  

“Where is Arthur, anyway?” you peered over to check your phone, noticing an unread message from Dutch and deciding to ignore it for now.  

John yawned, tired from the drive down. “Fuck if I know. Probably panicking about something or other.”  

Javier stood to check himself out in the mirror. “You got any cute cousins, John?”  

“I think if I had an answer for that question I’d be a bit of a creep.”  

“True. Besides,” Javier turned to point at you accusingly, “you’re the one that needs a wingman.”  

“I do not,” you huffed in offence.  

“For the love of god, yes please!” Karen agreed, and you scowled at her.  

John nodded with a laugh. “Is there really still nobody on the scene?”  

Yes actually, John, I’ve been fucking your dad for the best part of a few months and I can’t stop thinking about him.  

“Nah, nobody.”  

“We have got to get you laid this weekend,” Abigail demanded.  

“I am fine. Besides, don’t we need to be downstairs soon?”   

“Oh, yeah,” John checked his watch, and you were glad your diversion worked. “It starts in half an hour; I reckon I’ll go down early and check out that bar. No harm in having one, I guess. Maybe two.”  

While everyone agreed and stood to join him, you checked the message waiting on your phone.  

I’m in room 6, if you want to stop by before the dinner.  

Abigail looked back when you didn’t join the clan. “You coming?”  

“I need to do something with my hair,” which wasn’t a lie, “I’ll meet you down there when I’m done.”  

“Alright, see you soon,” she followed behind the others, and you decompressed with a sigh. The weekend may end up being more complicated than you’d anticipated.  

After a gentle knock on the door of room six, you paused to listen for any noise inside, wondering if Dutch had already left. But there was movement, followed soon after by the man himself opening the door, a pleased smile appearing on his face. “You took your time.”  

“I know,” you swiftly stepped inside, not wanting to risk being caught. “Everyone decided to hang out in our room.”  

Dutch shut the door and turned to you, placing a hand on your hip and a chaste kiss on your lips. “Better late than never. Though, I don’t have long before I’ve got to be down there.”  

“I know,” you shrugged, your expression turning to teasing. “Better something than nothing.”  

“Very true.” He moved past you and reclined on his bed, and you followed suit, sitting cross-legged beside him.  

“Are you excited?”  

You already knew he was; he’d called you earlier in the week and didn’t come up for air before he’d told you about every detail of the wedding. Though he nodded, he seemed more reserved than you’d expected.  

“Nervous?”  

“No, not nervous,” he looked down at his hands and back to you. “It’s just got me thinking, is all. Few things I wish were different that can’t be helped.”  

Wishing Annabelle could see it went unsaid, and you rested your palm on his thigh comfortingly. Regardless of the passage of time, it was bound to be emotional for the family. “I can’t believe it’s come around so quickly,” you said, hoping to alleviate the mood some.   

“Neither can I. Are you friends looking forward to it?”  

“They are,” you said warmly, neglecting to tell him that the open bar was the main reason for their excitement. “That reminds me, we may need to be a bit more careful of how friendly we are to each other.”  

“Why?” Dutch frowned, as though the thought itself was an insult.  

“Abigail commented on it. She wants you to like her and mentioned that you seem to like me a fair amount,” you leaned forward with a wry grin. “So much so that she reckons you’d rather I was dating John.”  

Dutch tsked in disbelief. “I couldn’t think of anything I’d want less. Besides, I like Abigail.”  

“That’s what I said.”  

As Dutch sighed, his face became more thoughtful, and a few beats of silence passed over you.  

“I like the thought of it.”  

“The thought of what?”  

He observed you for a moment, placing his hand over yours that was still on his thigh. “Us,” he shrugged genuinely.  

“Dutch,” you pulled your hand away to rub disparagingly at your forehead, and his own wrapped around your wrist before he intertwined his fingers with yours.  

“Would it be so bad?”  

Your expression dropped, and you looked at him with intense incredulity. “Have you taken your meds?”  

Dutch laughed, before bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Of course I have.”  

“Perhaps you need to up your dose.”  

He tugged your hands to his chest, coaxing you into an embrace and then wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I’m serious.”  

You frowned up at him, finding his face void of any teasing. “You’re telling me you want to go out there right now, hand in hand, and you think it’ll go down well?”  

“No, not now... it’s just got me thinking is all. About where this will all lead to.”  

“Well,” you said placatingly, “how about you focus on your son, and son-in-law-to-be, instead? It'd be a shame for you to spend so much on a fancy wedding and depart it with less family than when you entered.”  

“Alright,” he snorted. “Fine. We should get going, on that note.”  

“Agree,” you kissed him and stood, turning back once you were at the door. “We should probably go down separately.”  

“Don’t be ridiculous. We ran into each other on the way, nothing wrong with that – right?”  

“If you say so,” you sighed, and Dutch opened the door and nodded his head for you to come out when the coast was clear. You remembered your previous excuse and began tying your hair up.  

“What are you doing that for?”  

“I told Abigail I was doing my hair,” you grumbled, and Dutch laughed in understanding, and you hoped she wouldn’t question why it took you so long to do something so simple.  

Dutch was right, nobody cared when you walked in together; you were certain nobody had even noticed. He took his seat on the family table and you on the one with your friends, and after he’d convinced Arthur to give a small speech to thank everyone for coming, you ate quite possibly the tastiest meal you’d had in your life.  

-

The three of you could hardly contain your excitement come morning. You’d made everyone’s morning tea or coffee and Karen sorted out the music, while Abigail went to check on the boys and make sure they hadn’t slept through their alarms. She returned with pastries, enough to satisfy you all until the buffet after the ceremony.  

As if Dutch hadn’t had enough to pay for, he’d also insisted you let him buy your dress for the event. You assured him it was fine, you had some you could wear but he was too stubborn to allow it. Even you couldn’t deny that the dress was nice, the material expensive and hugging you at the waist, then flowing out over your legs.   

Once the three of you were ready, you picked up Sean and Javier on the way to the main hall.  

The ceremony was so beautiful you had to stop yourself from crying multiple times. Despite the lavish venue, it was a mostly simple affair – a compromise you imagine Arthur had insisted on.   

But Dutch? That man had never looked so good. His suit was perfectly tailored, he had not a hair out of place, and you just knew he smelt good. If you closed your eyes, you were sure you could smell him and remained pointedly wide-eyed for the duration of the ceremony. You’d need to proactively avoid getting too drunk, as the prospective reality he mentioned the previous day may just come true without you meaning it to.  

After the ceremony came the reception, speeches given by both Arthur and Charles, their made-of-honour Sadie, Charles’ mother, and of course, Dutch. He’d been planning the thing for months, and to be fair he did a very good job. It made you all warm and fuzzy seeing him so gleeful as he addressed the congregation, though you caught more than a few eye-rolls from John and Arthur both.

The couple were overjoyed, the perfect picture of love you and didn’t miss John kissing Abigail’s cheek and tucking a hair behind her ear when he came over once the scheduled program had ended and the buffet had begun. You raised your brows at Karen, who raised her glass in turn with an excited grin.   

Music came on soon after, and you got the chance to congratulate Arthur and Charles, everyone a few drinks down and pretty merry. Dutch had heard you nearby, clearing his throat upon his approach.  

“That was lovely,” you said genuinely as you faced him, and he beamed with pride.  

“It was, wasn’t it?”  

“Congrats on the new extended family -” you began to say and noticed Abigail had entered your conversation.  

“Thank you,” Dutch said to you, then turned his attention to Abigail. “You look lovely, Miss Roberts.”  

“Oh,” she blushed, and you could tell it was a shift in the right direction to convincing her that Dutch did like her. Not as much as he liked you, but that certainly wasn't what Abigail wanted.  “Thank you.”  

Over Dutch’s shoulder, you noticed Karen and Sean lock eyes and knew the rest of their night was history. “There they go again,” you hummed to Abigail in amusement. “What did I say?”  

“What?” Dutch asked, following your gaze to the pair.  

“They broke up. It was a matter of time before they fell into each other's arms again,” you teased, and saw Abigail give you an odd look out of the corner of her eye.  

“Ah,” Dutch chuckled. “I see the open bar has rekindled a romance.”  

“I don’t reckon theirs’ll be the first,” you joked, Dutch humming an amused laugh of agreement.   

“Oh,” something caught Dutch’s attention, “if you’ll excuse me, ladies.”  

After he’d parted, Abigail turned to you with a face full of hardened trepidation. "How much have you had to drink?!”  

“Not that much, why?”  

“You shouldn’t talk about that kind of stuff in front of Mr Van der Linde,” she said in a hushed whisper, gesturing to where he’d previously stood, just in case you’d forgotten.  

“Why not?” you laughed, “he doesn’t care.”  

“Well, because, what if he ends up viewing me and John like that? Just a silly, immature relationship?”  

“He won’t,” you softened, noticing the concern building in her eyes. “But okay, I won’t say anything like that to him again.”  

“Good,” she folded her arms over her chest.   

“Speaking of,” you nudged her forearm, “John has been awfully attentive to you today.”  

Abigail scoffed, unable to stop her smile from tugging at the corner of her mouth. “He has, hasn’t he?” she said sheepishly, as though you’d confirmed something she wasn’t sure was entirely true.  

“Why don’t you go speak to him?” you suggested, nodding to him as he stood by the buffet table, picking at what remained.   

After a short moment debating it as her eyes raked over him, Abigail turned to you and nodded. “Okay. I might do just that.”  

You laughed at her excitement as she went, not long after hearing a throat clear behind you. “Welcome back,” you teased hospitably.  

“Why thank you.”  

“Good job with Abigail,” you said, “she seems more relaxed now.”  

Dutch observed her speaking to John, the two of them laughing about something or other. “I’m glad.”  

You opened your mouth to speak, and noticed a man behind Dutch, beelining for the pair of you. Dutch noticed your gaze pass over his shoulder and turned, extending a hand to the man.  

“Oh - this here is Hosea Matthews.”   

“Nice to meet you Mr Matthews,” you greeted the new addition, dressed in a muted navy blue suit. His existence hadn’t formerly been a mystery, you knew enough about him from Dutch though you expected that fact to remain a secret.  

“Please, call me Hosea,” he batted the air in front of him, and you nodded graciously. “I recall your face from the engagement party, too, you’re one of John’s friends?”  

“I am, he’s lived across the hall from me for the past two years.”  

“That so? Oh, I could tell you some stories about John," he smiled with amusement, "though I imagine you could probably tell me more.”  

“I don’t think he’d be too happy with either of those scenarios,” you chuckled.  

“No, no, I think you’re right about that.”  

The small talk continued between the three of you, and it was no lie that he and Dutch were very close friends. Dutch seemed calmer around him somehow, his hands leisurely tucked into his pockets in what you expected was a rest from putting up his façade to all the other guests. It was nice to know you made him feel that way too, at least on some level.  

After your friends and stolen you away elsewhere, Hosea shook his head at Dutch, whose eyes lingered on you a moment too long as you walked away.  

“What?”  

“I can’t believe it. You're going to get murdered by your own son.”  

Dutch faltered and attempted to disguise it with a laugh. “Whatever do you mean?”  

Hosea paused, allowing the silence to do some of the talking. “I’m not stupid, Dutch,” he said eventually.  

Dutch tightened his lip.  

“You think I don’t know your type by now? You haven’t looked at anyone like that in a very long time,” he said in a whisper.  

“Hosea,” Dutch began, but came up empty on account of having no excuse or ability to pull the wool over his oldest friend’s eyes. “It isn’t how it seems.”  

“How does it seem, do you think?”  

Dutch huffed, his body becoming rigid. “Don’t be like this. Not now.”  

Hosea complied, but only due to the manner of the event. “She’s a pretty thing, I’ll give you that. But you,” he pointed a finger at Dutch’s chest, “mind yourself.”  

Dutch tutted, brushing Hosea off now that the intensity of the accusation had lessened and he was in the clear, at least for now. “Oh, don’t be so constipated.”  

-

Perhaps you’d have been more concerned about the intoxication level of your friends if it didn’t seem like every other guest was on the same level. Thankfully, you’d managed to remain tame, at least in comparison.  

The part of you that yearned for Dutch had been awoken by the drink, though to a level you could contain. That was until you saw him leant up at the bar, squinting over to look at the spirits behind the counter. His suit jacket had been abandoned, and you had a clear view of his ass and waist; two of your favourite things about him.  

Casually, you joined him, after you’d made sure your friends were good and distracted. “Having a good time, Mr Van der Linde?”  

His lip twitched at your formal address, but he remained otherwise nonchalant. “Indeed,” he said as the bartender handed over his drink. “Can I get you something?” he asked as an afterthought, the bartender already serving someone else.  

Why was alcohol so good at making you brave? You sighed slowly, pondering his question before lifting your eyes to his, watching how he noticed the new seductive glaze over your expression. “Actually, I am rather thirsty, now that you mention it.”  

Dutch swallowed, bringing his glass up to his lips. “That so.”  

“Mhm. There’s a bathroom, just down the hall. It’s a little out of the way,” you glanced over the scattered crowd of guests. “I might sit in there for a while.”  

“I see,” Dutch said, dipping his chain. “I think you should.”  

“So supportive,” you hummed and backed away, trotting off to the bathroom.  

It’d only been a minute since you’d closed the door to the bathroom, one that was way fancier than anything you’d ever been in. There was a big mirror over the sink and a small sofa opposite it. You weren’t sure if it was a private one, since there was only one toilet, and it was through another door. That was when you heard a knock and the familiar sound of Dutch clearing his throat behind the door. You unlocked it, and he slipped inside.  

“Nobody saw you, right?”  

“No,” Dutch leaned up on the sink, extending a hand out to you and pulling you to stand between his feet. “You’re getting into all this sneaking around.”  

“I suppose it is a little fun,” you ran your hands up his chest, his dress shirt soft underneath your fingertips. “You look good in your suit.”  

“And you look good in your dress.”  

You kissed him as thanks, the familiar taste of brandy on his lips clouding your mind. Experimentally, you dipped your tongue into his mouth and Dutch hummed, gripping at your waist and reciprocating your actions.   

A passionate kiss led to your torso flush against his, being reminded of the wonderful hardness between his legs, and a simple yet effective way to thank him for the dress came to mind.  

After pulling off you offered him a wry smile, kissing the corner of his mouth tenderly, changing the tempo of your interaction. You kissed down his thick neck, hit with the scent of his aftershave and hint of musk that was distinctly him. Your earlier suspicions regarding the man's aroma were bang on.

“Oh, that’s nice,” he sighed into the air, and you grazed your teeth over his skin.   

Then you lowered onto your knees.  

“What are you doing?” Dutch tilted his head down at you, your expression mischievous.  

“I told you,” you pulled his belt out of its buckle and unfastened it, “I’m thirsty.”  

A strained noise came from Dutch, and you couldn’t help a giggle slip from you. His thighs tensed as you ran your hands down and up them, before continuing to remove him from his constraints.   

The sick of his cock through his underwear sent a shiver down your spine, a wet patch where he’d leaked some precum visible by the head. He gripped the sink behind him, watching you with apprehension and excitement. Coyly, you leaned in and pressed your lips over it, leaving a gentle kiss on the fabric.   

After running your fingers up the back of his thighs, you pinched either side of his underwear and peeled them down, delighted to be so close to his thick, hard cock.   

Dutch chuckled proudly above you. “You whisk me off from my own son’s wedding,” he placed his palm under your chin, “because you’re that desperate to have me in your mouth?”  

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”  

“Oh, but it is,” he pressed the pad of his thumb onto your bottom lip, “it’s a very bad thing.”  

In response, you opened your mouth and sucked his thumb in, watching his eyes turn dark as he watched from above. You released it with a quiet pop. “I’m okay with that.”  

With a smile that told you that was the right answer, Dutch released his hold on your chin. “Then please, miss, do proceed.”  

Eyes locked firmly on his, you brought your tongue out and pressed it flat against the underside of the head, licking up some so you could fit your mouth around it and suck gently before releasing. Dutch released an audible breath, almost a hiss. His jaw was so hard you half-expected him to crack a tooth.   

You repeated the motion, enjoying the salty taste of him on your tongue. He’d even gone the extra mile of perfectly trimming his dark public hair, and you appreciated the effort.  

“Sweetheart,” Dutch said, his voice on the verge of cracking, “you’re killing me.”  

“Something the matter?” you asked, purposefully widening your eyes.   

“Oh,” he hummed, “I’ve been too soft on you, haven’t I? It seems you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”  

It was true. Dutch was a rich, successful, powerful man, but that wasn’t what came to mind when you thought of him. Instead, he was caring, loving, passionate and a consistent perfectionist. The side of him you got to see was rarely put on display, and while you revelled in not having to pretend around him, that fact went both ways. He’d let himself slip so much that you often forgot who he was at the surface, and perhaps who he was deeper down.  

You flattened your tongue against the base of him, licking up his shaft and once again closing your mouth around his spongey, straining head. “You may have to remind me.”  

“Alright,” Dutch’s chest decompressed with the tension of your teasing, “either you work your way along my cock until it’s down your throat, or I fuck your mouth until you don’t have a choice.” As an afterthought, he added onto his statement, “I’m being a gentleman by giving you the option.”  

“Aren’t I a lucky girl.”  

“You are, as a matter of fact.”  

A forming response lacking in your brain, you ran the tip of your tongue along the slit and Dutch let out a breathy laugh.  

“Oh, my girl,” he rumbled, his palm resting on the back of your head. “You truly are perfect.”  

The tantalising static running through your body hummed at your fingertips and toes, and Dutch allowed a moment to pass over before adding pressure to your head, bringing you forward, and you opened your mouth willingly.  

Dutch eased his cock past your lips, pushing in slowly until he was hot and heavy on your tongue. You muffled a moan around him, feeling deliciously filthy in this state. His fingertips in your hair, Dutch eased you off him, and you licked your lips, already wanting to taste him again.  

“If you’re on your knees for me, then you ought to remember what that means,” he warned, his expression verging on dangerous. “You are of service to me like this, sweetheart. I have had a rather stressful few weeks, and if you offer me such a relief as this then rest assured, I am going to take it.”   You took a breath to respond, and Dutch dragged his cock over your lips. “Ah ah. There’s only one thing that mouth should be doing right now.”  

With that, he pressed on the back of your head, simultaneously thrusting his hips forward until he was a couple of inches in, then pushed you right down to the base. You gagged, spluttering some and feeling the urge to pull off but Dutch held you there, drunk on the power of having you like this. “You can do it. Be my good girl, now.”  

You actively relaxed your throat, attempting to swallow and regulate your breathing through your nose, and gradually you relaxed, Dutch sighing in approval.  

“That’s it,” he cooed, using his free hand to run a knuckle over your temple, “you’re doing so well.”  

His hand in your hair, holding you in place while you were powerless on your knees, his proud gaze radiating down on you, and the gentle affection made your insides turn to mush, combined and you were thoroughly overjoyed to have him so pleased and infatuated with you. You placed your hands on his thighs, steadying yourself, and felt them tense underneath his suit pants.  

“Now. I’m going to fuck that throat of yours.”  

At least he gave you some warning. His fingertips hardened on your scalp, vice-like in the way they kept you in position. His hips did the work, fucking his cock repeatedly past your lips, hitting the back of your throat on each thrust. He grunted with each one, and a dull ache making itself known in your jaw. It was beyond worth it to see his face screwed up in ecstasy above you.  

You soldiered on, Dutch evermore vocal, littering the air with praise about how warm and wet you were around him. His movements increased in intensity, and tears slipped from your watering eyes at the sensation, both from the repeated hits to the back of your throat and the tugging against your scalp.  

“You are fucking gorgeous like this, darlin’,” Dutch huffed, face reddening with beads of sweat journeying down his forehead, “I’ve got to use you like this more often.”  

You moaned at the thought. The two of you had always been so keen to get straight to fucking, you’d never made time for this sort of stuff. You cursed yourself internally - what a thing to be missing out on.  

The thick cock in your mouth began to twitch, and you watched as Dutch tipped his head back, finally taking his gaze off you. He groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “I’m - I’m gonna – right down your throat -”  

Ropes of his cum shot down into your mouth, and you instantly swallowed to avoid spluttering, allowing you to be able to keep your mouth on him. His load was larger than you expected, but you continuously swallowed until his palm relaxed on your head and you were able to ease off him.  

His gaze down at you was full of affection and ecstatic after his orgasm. “Look at you,” he marvelled, “didn’t waste a drop.”  

With a laugh, you accepted Dutch’s offer of being helped up, and he held you by the waist while twisting around to get some tissue from by the sink. Tenderly, he dried the corners of your mouth of spit and your under eyes of tears. He even made a point of cleaning your smudged makeup. “I hope you brought some makeup in that bag of yours,” he said hesitantly.  

“I did,” you reached behind him for your bag, and pulled out your powder to begin applying after swapping positions so you could use the mirror. As you did, Dutch fasted his trousers and belt, then stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing kisses on your shoulder and then observing the two of you in the reflection.  

“We look good together.”  

“Shut up,” you chuckled, digging around for your lipstick when there was a knock at the door.  

Dutch tutted at the intrusion, but swiftly stilled at the sound of Arthur’s voice on the other side of the door.  

“Dutch? You in there?”  

You frowned at him, growing concerned at how the two of you were going to escape this one.  

“Shit,” he grumbled, checking his watch, “it’s been a while.”  

After glancing at his watch, you shot him a glare. “We’ve been in here for forty-five minutes -”  

“Well I was hardly tracking the time -”  

“Perhaps you should’ve -”  

“Of course, let me just set my handy blowjob alarm -”  

“This isn’t helping,” you hissed, irritated at him for being so snarky and unhelpful. You broke free from his embrace, as Arthur called his name out again.   

“Just a second,” Dutch called back, and you opened your arms in irritation. “What else am I meant to do,” he whispered sharply.  

“How the hell am I meant to get out?”  

Dutch took quiet steps to the door and put an ear up to it. He backed away, looking at you with uncertainty before whispering again. “Sounds like there’s a few people out there.”  

“Shit,” you glanced around, looking for any sort of inspiration. During a search of a drawer under the sink, you found a pair of scissors and Arthur calling for Dutch yet again sent panic through you. “I suppose you don’t have any ideas? We need to do something now.”  

“I - no,” he began, then frowned at the scissors in your hand. “What do you plan on doing with those?”  

At that moment, it didn’t seem like there was any other option. After all, the two of you needed a good excuse for being in the bathroom together, alone. Now or never.  

You turned your gaze away, held the scissors a few inches from your upper arm, and drove them into your skin.  

Dutch rushed towards you, holding your arm and taking the scissors from you. “Jesus! What did you do that for?”  

“We need an excuse –“  

“And you do that?!” he applied pressure on your deeper-than-intended wound, “you really are drunker than I thought.”  

You frowned at him, blinking a few times. “I feel... A little faint.”   

“Goddamnit,” he hissed, leading you to you the sofa, “and I thought I was the insane one. Stay here, and hold your hand over your arm.”  

Once he’d guided your other hand to hold your arm, Dutch rushed to the door and flung it open. “Sorry,” he began, stepping out of the way and gesturing to you, “there was an incident.”  

Arthur stepped in, Dutch returning to your side and clutched your arm.  

“What the hell happened?” asked Arthur.  

“Jesus,” John said, trailing behind with a horrified Abigail in tow.

“It was my fault,” you blurted, ignoring Dutch’s uncertain gaze, “I - I cut myself on a glass. Rushed down, ran into Dutch, and -” you gestured as well as you to yourself. “Here we are. I’m fine, looks worse than it is,” at that you looked down at the sight of all the blood, wincing.  

“Could one of you find the hotel medic?” Dutch said, irate, and you shrank a little in your seat. Maybe this wasn’t the brightest of ideas.   

“Sure,” Abigail responded, immediately jogging back out to hunt down a medic.  

“You are an idiot,” laughed John, and Dutch shot him an annoyed look.   

“Does this look like the time for jokes, Johnathon?”  

“She’ll be fine,” John shrugged an arm at you, bemused.  

“He’s right,” you said pointedly, hoping Dutch would quit being so outwardly concerned, “I really am fine.”  

Dutch muttered under his breath, still gripping your wound while Arthur attempted to clean away some of your blood.  

“Sorry Arthur,” you said to him, realising this is not how he should be spending his wedding night.  

“S’no bother,” he said easily, “glad you’re okay. We was just wondering where Dutch got to, Molly said she’d last seen him over this way.”  

It wasn’t noticeable to anyone but you the way Dutch stilled at the comment. You didn’t have time to think on it further when Abigail returned with a medic.  

“Hey there,” said the new face, and she knelt in front of you and opened her first aid box. “That’s a nasty cut. Are you okay to keep that pressure on for me?”  

Dutch nodded, adding more pressure for good measure and you grunted at the increasing sting. “Sorry,” he muttered.  

“It’s okay.”  

The medic used some antiseptic wipes to clean around the area, Dutch moving his hand so she could get a good look at the wound. “Well, good news is there doesn’t appear to be any broken glass in there, which is lucky. I can stitch you up, probably best if you come to the medical room – how do you feel? Can you walk?”  

Oddly enough, you weren't in all that much pain. Perhaps the alcohol, or the adrenaline, was responsible for that. “I feel a little nauseated. But I can walk.”  

“Alright,” the lady helped you up, Dutch on your other side and you moved past the others, Abigail and John then following behind. “Just one of you needs to come if that’s alright,” she said looking between the three of them.  

“I’ll go,” Dutch said immediately, “I’ve already got her.”  

“You sure?” asked John.  

“Yes. Don’t worry about it.”  

You offered a reassuring smile to the two of them, clearing your throat as an afterthought. “Thanks, Dutch.”  

“Don’t mention it.”  

Once you were seated in the medical room just off the reception, the medic got to work in fixing your wound with the help of another doctor.  

“We could take you to the nearest hospital, but we’re more than well-equipped to deal with it here. Plus, I wouldn’t recommend the journey when you’re bleeding like this,” she said, after injecting a local anaesthetic to numb the area in preparation for a few stitches.  

“That’s fine,” you said, “there’s no need for us to go to a hospital. It’s not that bad.”  

“How did you manage this?” asked the other medic.  

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I broke a glass in my room, then forgot I’d done it and lay back on my bed... the thing must’ve been sticking up. Then I came down for help and ran into Dutch,” you gestured at the man who was intently watching their work on your wound. “Suppose I panicked at the blood.”  

“That’s understandable,” she said comfortingly, “you bleed more after drinking so it’s no surprise.”  

Once they were finished, they gave you their emergency number and asked you to go and see them in the morning, provided you had no issues overnight. They asked you to at least lie down for a while if you insisted on returning to the party, which you did, and Dutch was more than happy to escort you to your room.  

“You are a rather good liar,” he said once the two of you had entered, and you’d ambled over to your bed.  

“Hm. Dating my best friend’s dad has given me a lot of practice.”  

“Oh, dating are we?” Dutch asked in a teasing voive that wasn’t as humourless as he’d intended.  

You lay back on the bed with a sigh. “You seem annoyed.”  

“Well,” he sat on your bed, adjusting the covers around you, “that was a rather stupid thing to do.”  

“I don’t see what choice I had,” you countered.  

“If it’s between stabbing yourself in the arm and not stabbing yourself, I’d go with not stabbing yourself.”  

“Well, I don’t want anyone to find out,” you yawned, feeling floaty all of a sudden. 

“Would it really be the worst thing?” he asked genuinely after a beat, taking your hand in his.  

“Depends on how much you like your son.”  

Dutch laughed, once again mirthless. “I like you.”  

“Let’s not do this now, please,” you groaned, and Dutch nodded despite himself.  

“Okay.”  

“You go back down, you can’t miss any more of your son’s wedding because of me.”  

Dutch appeared conflicted, agreeing with your statement but not wanting to leave you.  

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured.  

He brushed some hair from your face and nodded acceptingly. “Just have a rest for a bit. I’ve got my phone on me if you need anything, there’s some water and painkillers for you there.” With that he stood, placing his hands on his hips. “Make sure you take them.”  

“I will,” you assured him, and he placed a kiss on your lips. “I’ll see you in a bit.”  

“Alright. See you later.”  

-

You did as Dutch asked, taking the painkillers, finishing the water and remaining still for a time. After around an hour, you grew bored and started to wonder what you were missing out on. Sitting up slowly, you found yourself no longer feeling dizzy and placed your feet on the floor by your bed.   

Miraculously, there was no blood spilt on your dress, and you stood to give yourself a once-over in the mirror. A minor fix of your hair and a touch of makeup later, you walked a lap around your room and found yourself not the slightest bit dizzy. Your arm only felt numb, and you were okay with not being able to drink for the rest of the weekend, even if it did seem like a waste of an open bar.  

The girls and John had messaged you, telling you to let them know if you needed anything, but there were no messages from Dutch. In fairness, he had more than enough hands to shake and people to thank for their attendance, along with the fact you’d taken up more of his time than you’d intended on such a special day.  

Note to self: don’t give Dutch a blowjob in the bathroom at his son’s wedding. And don’t impale yourself with scissors after doing so, should you insist on doing it again.  

You made the walk back to the hall, the party now in full swing.   

John and Arthur were chatting nearby, and you walked over to them with an apologetic smile.   

“Oh, here she is!” John exclaimed, patting your back and being mindful of your new injury.  

“Yeah, I’m so sorry. It was so dumb of me.”  

“Don’t apologise to me,” Arthur grinned. “Just glad you’re okay?”  

“Completely fine. Just a case of the idiot.”  

“What else is new,” John muttered and tutted at him playfully.  

“There you are!” said Karen as she rushed over, “I heard you got in a fight with a wine glass?”  

With a friendly smile, you angled your arm away from her slightly swaying form. “I did. The wine glass won.”  

She barked a laugh, and you were reminded of her own escapades from earlier.   

“I see you and Mr Macguire are on good terms once again?” you asked, wiggling your brows.  

With an eye-roll, Karen began explaining. “Oh yeah, well, see that whole thing we fell out over -”  

John and Arthur had edged away, presumably to finish the conversation you interrupted. But you could hear them and couldn’t stop yourself from tuning in following the mention of Dutch’s name.  

“He’s off with Molly,” Arthur groused.  

“You’re kidding?”  

“No,” Arthur said through his teeth, and took a breath to remove the tension from his body. “I don’t think it was like that. Not again.”  

“I sure hope not.”  

“You and me both.”  

Molly? Like what?  

“Are you even listening?” Karen snapped you out of your nosy trance. “What sorta meds did they even give you?”  

“Yeah, I’m listening. Sorry. Still just a bit sleepy.”  

“Well, I would recommend a drink,” Karen looked round at your arm, “but I don’t fancy getting between you and the China cabinet later on.”  

With a scoff, you shook your head, noticing the end of Arthur and John’s conversation.  

Apparently, you’d missed the cutting of cake and Arthur and Charles’ first dance, but that didn’t mean you missed out on receiving a slice brought over by Abigail. You were glad for the excuse of not being allowed to over-exert yourself, given the swirling pit in your stomach at the second mention of Arthur’s friend Molly. The plan was to slip it into conversation with Dutch sooner rather than later, but he’d been AWOL for another hour until he took a seat beside you while you watched your friends as they danced; the slow song sparking more room for romance between Abigail and John, and now Karen and Sean.  

“Hello, my lady.”  

Turning in your seat you were met with Dutch, and offered him a restrained smile.  

“Feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” you nodded mutually, “just fine.”  

“Alright, good,” his expression dropped minimally, and he visibly searched for another line of conversation. “Will you dance with me?”  

At his nod to the dance floor of couples, you frowned at him and lowered your tone. “We’ve been through this. That’s asking for a death sentence, we can’t up and dance together in front of all these people.”  

“I don’t care,” he shrugged. “I want to dance with you.”  

In the corner of your eye, you noticed his hand edging towards your thigh and you stood, shooting him an angry glare. “Don’t be stupid,” you said, attempting to keep your expression neutral.   

“I’m -”  

“Actually,” you interrupted him. “I think I’m spent for the night. I reckon I’ll just head up to bed.”  

“Don’t,” Dutch stood, appearing casual and relaxed to an outsider but you could see the concern in his eyes. “Not yet, the party is still going.”  

Whether it was the alcohol still in your system, the mixture of it with the painkillers, or Dutch’s blatant disregard for subtlety you weren’t sure, but you began to get wound up. “I’m sure Molly is free for a dance.”  

His expression hardened, and you instantly regretted your words. You didn’t know a thing about the situation, and what you did know was vague hearsay. “What are you talking about?”  

You shrugged, genuinely uncertain. “I’m going to bed.”  

Without another word you turned, knowing full well he couldn’t follow you without rousing suspicion, and made for your hotel room.  

Hours passed of you staring at the ceiling, scrolling on your phone, and fidgeting in bed. The faint noise of the party you could hear from your open window had died down, and you closed it once the room grew chilly. Knowing John had his own room, you imagined Abigail was joining him, and assumed Karen had gone to Sean’s. For Javier’s sake, you only hoped he did end up finding a pretty cousin of John’s lest he want to sit through a rather unsavoury interaction between his two friends.  

It was no surprise that Dutch had continuously messaged you, some of questioning, some of apology, but most asking you to return to the party.  

There was a break in his attempts to contact you, and you grew irritated with yourself for snapping like that. You could’ve just asked him, instead of jumping to conclusions and making him bear the brunt of it. Nonetheless, there was a quiet part of your mind that wondered if it was warranted; wondered if he was hiding something from you, after all.  

It’d make sense, that if he had some sort of history with Molly, considering your actions, now would be the perfect time to rekindle anything that had existed before.  

As you followed the pattern of the swirls on the ceiling, your phone vibrated continuously. Glancing over, you found that Dutch was calling you. You ignored him.  

He called again, and you ignored him again. Of course, he couldn’t come to your room and demand an audience, considering the likely possibility that you weren’t alone.  

But you were, begrudgingly so. You’d hoped the girls would return, while you couldn’t confide in them about your feelings you could at least benefit from the comfort of their company. It wasn’t a lie that you were happy for them, off with their love interests, but still. It made for an annoyingly demanding train of thought with regards to your situation, and no means of interruption for it.  

After the fifth buzz of your phone, you decided to quit being stubborn and put yourself out of your misery, even if it did mean facing Dutch.  

“What?” you answered, and there was a pause as though Dutch hadn’t expected you to pick up.  

“We need to talk.”  

Oh, the dreaded line. “I don’t think we do.”  

“Come to my room.”  

“Why?”  

“I’m not doing this over the phone. I want to speak to you in person. Come to my room. Please.”  

You sighed, rather childishly kicking off your covers. “Fine.” You hung up the phone.  

The hallways were quiet, and you dragged your feet at the very real prospect that Dutch was about to break things off. Your repeated displays of immaturity throughout today alone were likely reason enough for him to second-guess it all and lose interest. After preparing yourself, you knocked gently at his door. He opened it instantly, wordlessly stepping aside and allowing you in, shutting the door behind you.   

He walked past you to sit on the bed, and when you remained stood in place, he patted the bed beside him. “Sit.”  

You did.  

“Look,” he began, rubbing at his brow, “there’s no easy way to have this conversation. I’m stressed enough as it is.”  

“Sure.”  

“I’ve been putting it off for a while, and I take the blame for that.”  

“I see.”  

“Still, it’s not exactly an easy situation. For either of us, I imagine.”  

“I know.”  

“This whole thing has weighed heavy on my mind.”  

“I understand.”  

Dutch frowned at you, observing your unchanging face for an extended moment. “I’d appreciate it if you weren’t so short with me.”

“Sorry.”  

He tutted, resting a hand behind himself. “I know you’re annoyed about Molly, but I’m trying to explain.”  

“You don’t have to.”  

“What?” he paused, “how do you plan on moving past it if we don’t talk?”  

You tilted your head at him, wondering if the two of you were even on the same page. “You don’t have to explain,” you repeated. “I’d rather you just get it over with, honestly.”  

“Get what over with?”  

“Breaking this off,” you shrugged, and Dutch looked at you incredulously.  

“You think that’s why I asked you to come?”  

You nodded.  

“And what of Molly? Where’s your grousing with regards to that?”  

“You don’t need to save my feelings. You’re at liberty to be with who you please, though I’d rather not have confirmation if you’d rather spend your time with her.”  

“That’s how it is, then? You think I’m going to bolt at the first sign of trouble? And what - jump into the arms of someone else?”  

“I’m sorry,” you glanced over his face, “is that not what’s happening?”  

“Of course not,” he said earnestly. “Jesus, what sort of man do you take me for?”  

You shrugged. “Just a man, I guess.”  

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I have no intention of ending things.”  

“No?”  

“Not one bit.”  

“Oh,” you settled, feeling even more like an idiot than you had at any point that day, which was saying something. “You can’t deny that it looks suspicious, though.”  

“I’m not denying that. But I – you,” he took your hand in his and kissed the back of it tenderly, “you mean a lot to me. It’s not a coincidence that I keep bringing up our future.”  

“It’s not?”  

“No. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”  

“What about it?”  

“Mainly the fact that I want one. I don’t know what your thoughts are, about me or our situation, and truthfully, I don’t know my own, either. But I do know that you’re special – very special – to me. I want something; in whatever form we can manage.”  

“Better than nothing,” you said quietly, and Dutch huffed a laugh of agreement.  

“Better than nothing.”  

You blinked at the ground, a sad sigh rippling over you, and Dutch pulled you into an embrace and rested his head on yours. “You silly girl. It’ll take a lot more than that to scare me off.”  

Nestling into him, you began to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll keep that in mind.”  

“You better.”  

Dutch released you, a pitying expression on his face as he took in the view of yours. “What is it that you’ve heard? About Molly?”  

“I’d rather you tell me what’s gone on first,” you said, hoping to put a little pressure on him not to try spinning you a lie.  

“Fair enough.” Dutch cleared his throat, preparing to tell the story. “For starters, I went to see her today to make sure she hadn’t seen me disappearing with you after Arthur mentioned she’d seen me by the bathroom. She hadn’t, so all is good. But I do owe you an explanation of our history, which is what I was trying to do earlier.”  

“Right,” that made sense, now that you thought about it. “Go ahead.”  

“I’m not proud of it,” he sighed guiltily. “There was a time a few years ago when Molly had come onto me after a few drinks at one of our family parties.”  

He observed you for a response, and you remained silent.  

“Rather stupidly, I pursued it. We only kissed,” he clarified, and it seemed like the truth, “just the once. I knew instantly that I was being stupid, that it was the whisky talking – not that that’s an excuse, I know – and that I had no interest in her.”  

You elected against offering a response just yet. It wasn’t the nicest thing to hear.  

“Unfortunately, she told Arthur. For whatever reason I’m not sure, the sting of rejection, perhaps. Of course, he flew off the handle at me, rightfully so, and things between us were rocky for a time. Eventually, he accepted my version of events, that I hadn’t purposefully tried to get with someone younger, no less one of his friends.”  

“So, you didn’t like her?”  

“Not a bit. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely girl, but there was never anything between us.” He smiled wistfully at you, “not like it is with you.”  

“No?” you asked, a little tender and in need of some reassurance.  

“There was something about you from the moment I met you. I know,” he laughed self-depreciatingly, “it sounds cheesy. But it’s true. Still, I didn’t let myself entertain the thought. I knew it would only lead to more trouble and make me seem like even more of a creep.”  

You smiled a little at that. “That’s generally the outcome when you steal people’s underwear.”  

Dutch laughed genuinely. “I only steal yours, though I’m not sure that makes it any better. Anyway,” he looked down at his hands in his lap, “it all changed of course, when you kissed me.”  

“Oh yeah. Sorry about that.”  

“Don’t apologise,” he said warmly. “I admit, I allowed myself to indulge in your company, and I shouldn’t have even done that. But I did, and you kissed me, and I didn’t think of anything else until I got to kiss you again.”  

“Makes me feel better about your initial rejection, at least.”  

“I was worried you’d tell John. Stayed up all night planning how I was gonna talk my way out of it.”  

You sighed, inching towards him and looking him in the eye. “And that’s the truth?”   

“Absolutely,” he confirmed.  

“All of it?”  

“Every single bit. I promise, darlin’.”  

It was conflicting. Part of you wanted to think that maybe you were just another young thing that’d taken his fancy, but he seemed so genuine. You knew your relationship, you knew the time you’d spent together, and you knew how real it was. There was no way he could be faking it.  

“Darlin’?”  

“Yeah. It’s - it’s not ideal,” you settled on. “And I wish you’d have told me sooner. But still, I’m glad you have.”  

“I’m sorry. Really, I am,” he took your hands in his. “I meant what I said about our future. I want us to have one. I’m - maybe this really isn’t the right time to say this but screw it. I have fallen hard for you. So much so that I find myself loving you. I do, I love you, and I don’t need you to say it back, but you deserve to know -”  

“No,” you smirked, brows softening. “I love you too.”  

Dutch’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Well, thank god.”  

Your lips tugged upwards in tandem, and you kissed him sweetly. This was real, and serious.  

“I wish you’d have danced with me.”  

“Even if it weren’t for all this, I still wouldn’t have. Come on, Dutch,” you placed your hand on his flank, “you know that’d be crazy.”  

Dutch nodded against his desire to disagree. “I know, you deserve more than this, that’s all. You deserve to be shown off, not kept as some dirty little secret.”  

“I don’t feel like your dirty little secret. Maybe one day, we’ll figure out a way to approach this whole thing, but I can’t, not right now. With finals coming up this year I really don’t need anything to get in the way of that.” Dutch’s brows pulled together, and you placed your hand on his jaw. “You understand, right?”  

Begrudgingly, but with acceptance, Dutch nodded. “I do. I understand. We won’t think about it until after your exams are done.”

“Thank you.”  

Dutch kissed you once, twice and then planted a third on your nose.  

“I do have one request to make of you, actually,” you offered, and Dutch’s brows pulled up in interest.  

“And what might that be?”  

You stood, offering a hand to him. “I believe you do still owe me a dance. Even if it’s in secret.”  

Dutch smiled and stood, taking your hand in his and placing his other at your waist. “Now, how could I say no to that.”  

The two of you slow-danced, to the music of nothing other than the sound of your bodies in the dimly lit hotel room. You lay your head on his chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, and couldn’t help but think about the fullness of your own.  

It seemed the pair of you had too been afflicted by the romance permeating the air. 

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

[introspectivememories]

it's late by the time bernard gets home from the grocery store. he takes off his shoes by the shoe rack they he kept by the front door.

"ti-" his voice falters, "i'm home."

tim's not here anymore, remember? you broke up with him.

"shut up." he tells himself. he enters the kitchen and starts putting away the groceries. bernard hums to himself as he works.

tim had loved that about him. you're always humming he used to say like my very own disney princess.

"oh but love grows where my tim goes!" he sings, thinking about all the times he used to serenade tim with this song.

(tim used to blush furiously at the name substitution and then he'd try to sing back and they'd go back and forth singing the song to each other and it didn't matter that both of them could barely sing because they were so in love. they were so in love.

there's a sob building in his throat and he will not cry. he will not.)

the song is building to the climax in his head and he spins around using a leek as a prop microphone when he sees the people sitting their his living room.

"what the fuck!" he screams as throws the leek at them.

the wayne brothers -- all 4 of them duke, dick, jason, and damian --stare back at him unimpressed.

"what the fuck." he repeats when he's calmed down. "why the fuck are you guys lounging around in our. in my living room.?"

damian, predictably reacts first, pulls out a switchblade, and waves it around in what would be a threatening way if it wasn't coming from someone bernard has seen melt at his cow's babies.

"you made drake cry dowd. explain yourself."

"put the knife away, dami." dick says, never taking his eyes off bernard. "what did i tell you about pulling knives on people?"

damian sulks and mutters, "that it's not nice."

there's a hot, vicious, anger brewing in bernard's gut. "what the fuck is this. what did tim send you guys?"

"no, we came on our own accord." duke says

"oh enough of this." jason says, "why'd you break up with the brat? he's at the house fucking ugly crying because of you. you better have a damn good reason."

"because i couldn't do it anymore. now get out of my apartment."

"what does that even mean?" jason says.

bernard inhales for 5 and exhales for 5. "do you know how many dates tim's run out on me in the past 3 months alone? not to mention how many over the course of the past 4 years? do you know how many nights i woke up to his side of the bed empty and cold? do you know how many dates i've been stood up? do you know-"

he cuts himself off.

"drake loves you. is that not enough?" damian says.

"i keep forgetting you're only 14."

"what does that have to do with anything?"

"it means, that no, love is not enough," bernard responds.

"they were family emergencies." duke says quietly.

his fists clench and unclench at his sides. "do you think i'm stupid, signal?" he says quietly.

all 4 of them still.

"you know." dick says

"yes."

"how?"

"it's not that fucking hard. he runs out and then 10 minutes later, red robin's on the scene. once you know that, it wasn't too hard to figure out the rest."

"so then what's the problem?" jason says "you know why he has to keep running out."

"this is why all of you can't keep a relationship," he says.

"he has a duty." dick says, "to the city, to it's people, to-"

"what about to me?" bernard cuts in, "what about his duty to me?"

the anger is bubbling up.

"what about his duty to me?" he says louder, "what about me?"

"kid," jason starts, "you can't expect him to drop every-"

"4 fucking years of this. i figured it out 3 months into our relationship. y'know. and i understood at first. 'oh he's a vigilante. he can't just reveal himself.'"

"so i thought that maybe if i proved myself, that i was trustworthy, that i loved him, that i'd do anything for him, he'd tell me himself. and then a year went by and i thought, 'oh it's just a year. it's probably too new. he can't just tell me." and then the second year and the third year and the fourth year. and then i realized he was just never going to tell me."

"so you're mad cause he didn't tell you he was a vigilante?" duke asks incredulously

"no i'm mad cause he keeps leaving! he keeps fucking leaving. date after date. night after night. and i'm just left to sit at the tv and watch the news reports and pray like i'm some wife from the 40s hoping her husband comes back from the war."

"4 fucking years of you guys just hiding or outright lying about injuries. and maybe it's just me, but i don't think it's selfish to want the man you love to stop going out in spandex to fight crime."

there are tears dripping down his face. he wipes them away angrily.\

"i don't think it's too much to ask to want the man you love to prioritize you instead of fucking mr. freeze."

"i love your brother." bernard ignores the way his throat hurts and his voice cracks and his heart aches, "he is the light of my life. i want to marry him. i want to have children with him. i want to build a life with him but i can't do that if he keeps on leaving."

they're frozen, staring at him.

"am i supposed to be married and live with him making excuses as why he has to leave cause the fucking condiment man decided to terrorize gotham? if we have kids, am i supposed to watch him leave them again and again, cause dr. isley decided gotham looked better if it was a forest?"

he stares at them, "when is he going to stay? when his body is 60 and he can no longer physically fight crime anymore? if we had kids, do you think they'll need a dad 30 years down the line or are they going to need both of their parents?"

"i'm not lois lane." he says quietly, "i can't spend the rest of my life waiting around for him. i can't spend the rest of my life sharing him with the public. i can't spend the rest of my life living off the rare days he decides to come home."

"i love him. i'm in love with timothy jackson drake-wayne. i want to marry him. i want to have children with him. i want to spend the rest of my life with him but as long as he keeps choosing red robin over me, i can't be with him."

#i fucking hate writing action. why can't just be all dialogue #anyway i'm not really happy with this #but here you go #there is more #but like i don't know if i'll write it #please feel free to write more for this if you want! #just tag me if you do #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #duke thomas #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #dc

[lancermylove]

Teen MC 34: Influenced by the Internet (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Demon Bros x gn!Reader, platonic

Warning: Language

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Could I request Obey Me headcanons for a teen mc who's being groomed on the internet? I know this sounds like and odd topic but something I feel is really prevalent is the stuff that teens these days do online and the lack of intervention from adults. Teens just shouldn't be dating online and it's so sad to see how their manipulated.

A/N: Anon, I can't agree with you more. It's sad to see how kids/teens are exploited without realizing it. I know you said you meant both the formal definition and internet trend, but writing for the formal definition of grooming is disturbing for me. I honestly can't even fathom how sick-minded people can be. I will treat your request as MC closely following different internet/trends.

Series: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27][28][29][30][31][32][33]

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Lucifer heard you crying and asked what happened? He was worried they were injured or someone had said something to them.

But he wasn't expecting MC to say their nose was too big, their skin had textures, and their figure was not on trend.

"I need surgery to make my nose smaller...and stop eating and exercise more. Is there a way to get rid of skin texture? Maybe I should ask -"

"(Y/n), you are fine as you are. Would you kindly stop belittling yourself?" Lucifer sat down beside you and squeezed your hand between his hands. "You may not believe me, but you are perfect. Your nose suits your face. Your skin texture adds to your beauty. Your body is beautiful. There is no need to follow trends. Follow what makes you content, not to suit the unnecessary standards of insecure people."

Lucifer never understood trends but didn't bother to stop Asmo. Now, though, seeing you following the same trends bothers him much more than he wants to admit. Lucifer refuses to let you look down on yourself - your beautiful self.

Mammon raised an eyebrow and pressed an ear to your door. What were you watching? Why did it sound like...oh hell nah.

He kicked open your door and ran straight for you, not giving you enough time to react. He stared at your screen in horror.

"(Y/n)...why are ya watchin' things meant for adults? How did you learn 'bout this?"

You rolled your eyes and told him you were already a teenager, which meant you were practically an adult. "Besides, everyone my age is watching stuff like this all the time."

"Well, you ain't everyone. (Y/n), you're different than 'em...so don't go around comparin' yourself to 'em," Mammon sighed and shut the laptop but not before exiting the rated site. "You ain't gotta do what others do - you've your own mind and thoughts...you're your own individual. I'm not tryin' to lecture ya or anythin', but (y/n), enjoy the innocent times while ya still have 'em. 'Cause when ya get older, you're goin' to wish you were back to these times...so enjoy it while ya still can, y'know."

Mammon set your laptop in front of you and met your eyes, "Also, I ain't gonna tell Lucifer 'bout this, but if you go onto these kinds of sites again, I'm gonna tell him."

Levi went to get a glass of water in the kitchen, but as he passed your room, he heard you say, "So in today's video, I will hang myself from this noose and see how long I can stay."

He ran into your room, only to find you standing on a small stool pretending to hang from the noose. What were you doing?

A few days later, he found you in the woods with torn clothes and muddy makeup, making a video about how poor you were. He was confused but didn't think much.

Nothing made sense to him until he found your social media account. Were you doing all this for clout? Were you lying to your audience just to get likes and views?

Levi almost brushed it aside as you were trying to make it on social media, but then he saw the comments. Most of the comments were criticizing the demon brothers for not taking care of you.

It finally clicked. For the past two weeks, he and his brothers got hateful looks and nasty glares whenever they went outside. No one knew what was happening, not even Lucifer. He brought this up to Diavolo, but even the prince was clueless.

"(Y/n), can you stop?" Levi was nervous about confronting you alone but had to get answers.

"Stop what?"

"Making posts for clout. Did you s-see the comments? Everyone is looking down on us..."

"Who cares what they say? Just ignore them! My videos are getting so popular. Did you see how many likes and comments I got on my last video?"

Were likes and comments the only things that mattered to you? You were destroying their reputation and hurting them as well. They worked hard to build their reputation in Devildom, but that didn't matter to you, did it?

Levi quietly dragged his feet out of your room. He needed to tell his brothers before things got worst, but you will get mad at him. Why did he have to be the one to find out the reason the truth?

"You fckng b*tch."

Satan stared at you with wide eyes. Since when did you start using such language?

"Your outfit is just like your face. Ugly."

That was uncalled for. He watched the poor lady you criticized walk away with tears in her eyes. Where did the (y/n) he knew go, and who was this new person?

'You are such a bad actor. No one likes you, and your movies are horrible. Find a bridge and jump off.' Satan watched over your shoulder as you posted that comment on the actor's recent post.

Okay, this was crossing the line. Day in and out, he heard you using cuss words, trolling people online, and roasting everyone around you, including his brothers.

"(Y/n), what enjoyment do you get from hurting others?"

"Hurting? What are you talking about?"

"You just told the actor to take his life..." Satan furrowed his brows.

"I don't have anything against the actor. This is just how people talk today - it's on trend."

"And the day you told the lady her outfit was ugly like her face?"

"She asked for my opinion, so I roasted her."

"And when you cuss others out?" He curiously asked.

"It's cool to use cuss words," you laughed.

So that was it, huh? You were hurting others and demeaning them because it was trendy and to seem cool. Did you forget people had feelings? Your words had the power to hurt them? What if the actor actually listened to your comments and jumped off the bridge then what?

Satan massaged his temples as he felt a headache coming on. He had to figure out how to teach you an unforgettable lesson, so you would stop following useless and mean trends.

Asmo was all about being charming, cute, and seductive when needed, especially when it came to his social media posts. There's nothing wrong with giving your followers a little fan service. But what you were doing was unacceptable, even for him.

"Why are you doing this, (y/n)?" He asked uncomfortably.

"What? The thirst traps? I'm adding a little oomph for my followers. What's wrong with that?"

"You are not an adult...and there are creeps out there who might be misusing your content..."

"That's not my problem. I am following my heart, and there's nothing wrong with that," you huffed. "Why do you care anyways?"

"I do care. About you and your well-being...at least wait until you are a legal adult."

"Don't lecture me, Mom. I'm done talking about this."

Asmo watched you stomp out of his room while biting down on his lower lip - your behavior almost had him in tears. He needed to talk to his brothers about this.

"No, I don't want to eat that..."

"Are you feeling okay?" Beel asked, concerned. "Your...taste has changed, and you're a picky eater...did something happen?"

"No. Oh, Beel! Let's go to that cafe."

Even at the cafe, you were more interested in taking photos of the food than eating it. Beel watched you in confusion but brushed it aside until you took one bite of the sandwich and winced. Despite not enjoying the taste, you continued to eat it.

"Why are you forcing yourself to eat something you don't like? I can finish it for you..."

You shook your head, "This sandwich is trending on social media, so I have to eat it."

Your words made no sense to him. Why were you eating something you disliked just to follow a trend? Your food choice should be based on your liking, not what social media tells you to eat. "(Y/n), are you only eating trending food?"

"Yup! I want to feel included."

Beel sighed. That was far from healthy. He wondered if Solomon's cooking became a trend tomorrow, would you still eat it?

Belphie was asleep on your shoulder and woke to find you texting someone.

You were a little too friendly, but he assumed you were talking to your close friend. Then you switched to a different chat and were just as friendly.

"(Y/n)...who are you talking to? Your friends...?"

"Nope. They are strangers?"

He sat straight up and stared at you with wide eyes. "Haven't you heard of stranger danger?"

"That's stupid."

"But (y/n)...you are giving out personal information..."

"You are overthinking."

"No, (y/n)," Belphie sighed, "That's not okay. People aren't as nice as you think. They might try to take advantage of you..."

"Belphie, I know what I'm doing. OMG! Stop lecturing me."

After that response, Belphie didn't say anything and excused himself. He half wanted you to learn your lesson the hard way but didn't want you to have permanent scars.

He plans to talk to his brothers later to figure out how to scare you to get you to understand the possible consequences of your actions.

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