#i think about five pebbles everyday

[s-citrus]

surely nothing bad will happen to these silly robots

#rain world #five pebbles #looks to the moon #i think about five pebbles everyday #he's so angry and tragic and all his problems could be solved if he just got out of his own head #and hes just like me fr #im biting him and shaking my head back and forth #also i love moon and im giving her a kiss upon the forehead #jar art #idk expect more rain world its grabbed me brain

[formulaforza]

oh, simple thing— c.sainz

"the earth laughs in flowers" pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 4.1k notes: guys remember when i used to write? back in january? crazy times. anyways.

You were five years old the first time you proclaimed that you were going to marry Carlos. It came, of course, after the implication that you would also be marrying Prince Charming (as long as he didn’t keep your glass slipper–shoes are a woman’s best friend, your mom had told you once and you never forgot it) and the gym teacher at your primary school, whose crush you’d never admit to anyone but your mom. Can you imagine the teasing? Thinking a grown-up is cute? It’s completely preposterous… or, when you were five, super-duper silly. 

All three of the loves of your life were completely coincidental, coming to your brain while your mom read you a bedtime story completely coincidentally. You’d had gym class that day, of course. Played with the rolling scooters and argued with the older kids about getting a turn on the tube slide. Scooter day was always your favorite, so it was no surprise your teacher was in your good graces that evening. A

After dinner, while flipping lazily through channels on the big square television in the family room, your dad had clicked on the Disney Channel by mistake. Cinderella was halfway through and you threw a fit every time he tried to change the channel. You just thought she looked so pretty, in her big princess dress dancing at the ball. 

Carlos, what had Carlos done to be in your good graces that day…? He wasn’t in your class, so you couldn’t enlist him in the war of the slides or crash into him on the scooters. He definitely wasn’t running around your house after dinner. If he was, your Mom would still be cleaning up after him somewhere in the house. Carlos, Carlos, Carlos… what had he–oh! That’s right! The flower on the way home from school. How could you ever forget the first flower? He’ll give you shit for it later. 

Your mom and Carlos’ mom had been best friends long before you and Carlos burst into the scene. They liked each other more than just about anyone, and you never did understand how Reyes never tired of your Mother’s antics. She was always bossing you around, forcing you to clean up your toys and read your books. Carlos got away with whatever he wanted, his parents would even lie for him on his reading logs. Anyways, stay focused. Because your parents were such good friends, you and Carlos grew up side by side. Parallel play or bust, since neither of you were particularly apt at sharing. Everyday on the walk home from school, your moms would catch up on the gossip from the night before while you and Carlos tried to kill each other with various objects found on the sidewalk. This day, there had been eleven pebbles, two rocks, a stick, and Carlos’ metal water bottle (the one with the HotWheels logo on the side). Now, Carlos was charging at you with… a flower? A bluebell, one he’d picked straight from the ground, root and all hanging from his fist. When he held it out to you, you scowled. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. In fact, it was about as perfect as a bluebell from the sidewalk can get, but, you’re a little shit. 

“It’s dead,” you said, took it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s not nice to pick flowers, Carlito. It kills them.” He burst into tears and your mother scolded you the rest of the way home, even though it was her who always told you to leave the wildflowers wild. After some time and consideration (a plate of dinosaur nuggets, half of Cinderella, and a bedtime story) you’d decided maybe Carlos was right to cry about the dead flower. 

Carlos, it seemed, had gotten over the dead flower incident pretty quickly because, the very next day, he was already making a joke of it. He’d held up the walk home for fifteen minutes while he searched through a field in the park. Both of your mothers and Blanca had already shown him what had to be a hundred or so healthy, perky flowers. Carlos shook his head at each one of them, typical. You sat on the curb of the garden and played with the ants that had built a sandy hill beside your foot. You resisted the urge to stomp it, only because you knew you’d be lectured about leaving the bugs alone in the same way you were about leaving the flowers alone. After a lifetime–or enough time to have an after school snack–Carlos finally settled on the ugliest, most wilted flower you’d ever laid your eyes on. He presented it to you with a laugh and, because you’re just as stubborn as he is, you accepted the gift graciously and let it sit vaseless on your dresser for three days before someone threw it away. 

Truthfully, though, the real reason you probably proclaimed your intent to marry him that night wasn’t some flower. It was that Blanca had defended you from his water bottle strike with a pebble to the back of his head, and you thought that would be a good kind of person to have as a sister. 

Carlos was seventeen when he figured he’d probably end up with you eventually for the first time. There wasn’t anything romantic about it. It was more of an ah, fuck. It’s gonna be her, isn’t it? 

Your families were in Mallorca, touring some vineyard–well, your parents were touring the vineyard. You, Carlos, and all of the siblings had snuck off from the group one by one and met up in the grove just outside the property. Carlos was bumming a cigarette from Blana when Ana finally turned up, stomping her way through the grass and wildflowers annoyedly. Carlos takes a puff of the cigarette and passes it over to you. 

“You’re going to start a wildfire, you know?” Ana says, crosses her arms over her chest and pops out a hip all bratty. 

“Ana,” Carlos groans, “shut the fuck up.” You exhale a puff of smoke through a laugh. 

“If you’re going to be mean, I’m going back to Mom and Dad.”

“Okay,” he says, “have fun.”

“I will,” she proclaims, visibly annoyed that she isn’t drawing a reaction from her big brother. She loves to piss him off, everyone does, because it’s just so easy. “I’ll have sooo much fun telling them about how you’re all in the woods smoking. I’m sure Dad will love that, don’t you think, Carlos?” Blanca rolls her eyes. Sometimes it’s fun to mess with Ana, and sometimes keeping her humble becomes more of a chore than anything else. 

Ana stomps away, her whole sneaky journey wasted, the group’s entire smoke session ruined by the pesky baby sister who can’t decide if she wants more to be included or to be a tattletale. “Don’t kill any more flowers on the way back!” Carlos calls after her, passes the cigarette to you again for one last puff before the lot of you have to make your way back to the winery, to the bathroom you’d all claimed to need to use over the past hour. Ana turns on her heels to make sure Carlos can see her eye roll. He just smiles, and you think if Carlos was your brother you probably would have killed him with your bare hands a long time ago. 

You squat down to put the cigarette out in the dirt and Carlos digs a hole with his heel for you to drop it into, kicks the dirt back over it and stomps on it a couple times. “Fuckin’ snitch,” he mutters under his breath. 

He snatches up one of the stomped on flowers, pulls it from the ground–root and all–and presents it to you. “You really are such an ass,” you say, take the flower and link your arm through his for the remainder of the walk back. “I love you,” you add, “but you’re an ass.”

You were twenty the first time your friendship with Carlos became a threat to one of your relationships. It wouldn’t be the last time. You’d been together for seven months, you and Mateo, Mateo and you. Met at a club in Barcelona and the rest was history. It was a simple conflict of interest, a scheduling woe. You were forced to make a decision. Your boyfriend’s grandma’s birthday party… or Carlos’ debut in Australia. To you, it seemed like the easiest decision in the world. His grandmother isn’t even that old–she’s got plenty of birthdays ahead of her, ones that you’d be happy to celebrate. But Carlos’ debut? Really? That’s once in a lifetime. It’s the shit you just don’t miss, even if you’re in the hospital or literally on your deathbed (which Mateo’s grandma is NOT, by the way. She lived seven more years according to recent Facebook posts). 

“You’re going to Australia?” He’d scoffed when you told him, mentioned it so nonchalantly over dinner. When I’m in Australia, don’t forget to water the plants, or something along those trivial lines. He was just as offended as you were utterly confused. There’s no way he thought– “What about my abuela’s birthday?”

You’d laughed. The wrong thing to do, you know, but it was an action done without thought, without intention. “What about it?”

“You’re supposed to come with me.”

“I never said that,” you shake your head and he pulls a face. You set your silverware down and prepare for the coming argument. Normally, you’d just back down, but this is Carlos we’re talking about. Carlos, and his dream. Carlos, and his reality. “I didn’t,” you reaffirm. 

He leans forward onto the table, elbows shaking the entire thing, rattling the wine glasses and ceramic against the wood. “I assumed you–”

“–I don’t know why you would assume I‘d be doing anything except supporting Carlos,” you say, more defensive than you intend to be. It’s just, you can already see where this is going, even if it’s never gone there before. You’ve watched the girls Carlos brings home look at him the same way Mateo is looking at you right now, or more importantly, how he doesn’t look at you. 

“You know, I don’t either.” He nods, but it’s more of a full body movement, like he’s rocking forward, lips pursed and jaw tight. His eyebrows raise like he’s going to shrug, like he’s surprised with himself. You doubt you read the emotion right. “It’s always about Carlos, isn’t it?”

You lean back in your seat, cross your arms over your chest, close your eyes just long enough to hide the eye roll, and then you’re piling the silverware and the napkin onto the plate and moving the party to the kitchen sink. “I’m not doing this right now,” you say when you grab the wine glass carelessly. 

“Oh, so you know what this is about, then?” He calls after you, gathers his things sloppily and follows you into the kitchen. 

“You just said it’s about Carlos,” you say, slamming the sink on and clattering the plates into the bowl. Carlos had told you about these fights, about the ones he’s had with his girlfriends. You’d laughed about them, always thought it was so funny–the idea of someone left fuming by your friendship. The crazy assumptions, they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. You and Carlos are nothing but platonic, you’ve always been platonic, you’ll always be platonic. When you know someone as long as you’ve known Carlos, they just become a part of you, build this little home in your soul that blends in so perfectly you could never cut it out with clean margins. It’s not just Carlos, either. It’s Blanca and Ana, too. Hell, it’s even Carlos Sr. and Reyes, but nobody ever seems to understand that. 

“It’s my Abuela,” he says, like you’re supposed to be moved or something, and he sets his dishes in the sink on top of yours. “It’s her birthday, and you’re supposed to come with me. I told my family you were coming.”

“I don’t understand why you would do that,” you start scrubbing the first plate with far more aggression than required. You’re not a good fighter, you get mean, and you get mean quick. “I was never not going to Australia.”

He laughs, leans against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at the ground, at the crumbs waiting to be swept up. “Because you’re never going to choose me over Carlos, right?”

“Mateo.”

“Answer the question.”

You freeze, squeeze the soapy sponge in a fist until there’s nothing left to ring out of it. “I’m certainly not going to choose your Abuela over my friend. Over my brother.”

“He’s not your brother.”

You sigh, go back to cleaning. “He’s like my brother.”

“Yeah, if you wanted to fuck your brother,” he says, and meets your eyes with wide, proud eyes like he’d done something, caught you in some illicit love affair. You resist the urge to grab the wand from the sink and spray him with a jet of water. 

Instead, coldly, you’d replied, “get out,” and pointed to the door. 

His hands shot up in some great defense. Or maybe it was offense, you really never could read him that well. “I see how you look at him.”

In. Out. In, and then out. Deep breaths. “I said leave, Mateo.”

“Because you know I’m right.” In, then out. “You know how fucked up it is that there’s three people in our relationship,” in, out. “Four, if you count Carlos’ girlfriend! What do you think she thinks about all this? You looking at her boyfriend like your favorite candy?” In, then. In, then–in, and then you slap him with a wet hand, the contact reverberating into a splash, coating the walls and the ceiling and the entire fucking room in anger. Anger, and dirty dish water. 

The anger is deafening, the room so quiet that the sink makes the kitchen sound like it’s directly behind a waterfall. 

He storms off into the living room. You return to the dishes, hear the jingle of his keys, the door opening. “Fuck you!” You call after him, but what you really mean is Fuck Carlos. 

When you get the breakup text a few days later, you’re not surprised. You put on your best face and pretend you never read it because while your boyfriend did just break up with you in a seven word text, you’re sitting out the back of the Toro Rosso motorhome watching Carlos pace.

You’ll tell him later, you think, after the race. And then, you don’t dare ruin the celebration, ride the high out until it can’t be ridden any longer. By the time you do get around to telling him, you’re all but moved on, mentioning it nonchalantly amongst the chaos of his first season. It falls away to the backburner, into irrelevancy, and Carlos never does ask what happened to sour the relationship. He does, however, have a wilted arrangement of flowers delivered to your front door with a handwritten note–ugly and dead, just like your relationship. You’d laughed for maybe twenty straight minutes. 

Carlos was twenty-four when he realized he was in love with you, that maybe he always had been. He’d just broken up with a girlfriend, one whose name he hardly remembers now. Alessandra… Alena… Adrianna–oh, screw it. It was definitely an “A,” and if it wasn’t, he’s sure it was a vowel. Not the point. He was twenty-four and had just dumped whatever her name was because it just didn’t feel right. (What does right feel like at twenty-four? And how do you know it when you see it? The world may never know). 

It was three races into the 2019 season, and he’d been having a particularly unlucky start with his new team. He’d spent the offseason relatively alone in Woking, finding his footing in a new place, a new team, a new car. Everything is gray, you’d told him the night he announced his impending move, scrolling through your phone at Google search results for the town. “It’s not gray,” he said, and without needing to say anything or flash him a look, he backtracked. “Okay, it’s a little gray.”

Three races in–an engine fire and two first lap collisions–in, and everything is feeling pretty gray, not just his rainy apartment (flat, he’s been taught to call it) in Woking. The cards felt stacked against him, and reluctantly, he’d called in reinforcements to Baku, a couple of good luck charms in the form of the people he loved. You, Ana, and Blanca flew in together and made Carlos come pick you up from the airport himself. 

You climbed into the backseat and were anything but gray. You were glowing, completely and utterly sunkissed, and your hair was messy from travel but it reminded him of what you’re like after a good nap. Groggy and sleepy and desperate to stretch out like a cat. He hates that he knows how you like to stretch after a nap, the exact pattern of movements you do. Do you know how much time you have to spend with someone to memorize their post-nap stretch routine? Too much time, that’s how much. 

You got into his car, all bright and sunny, and sure, his sisters were there and he loves them so much. But, you’re here, and you’re bright and sunny and everything feels just a little less gray. He pulls out from the airport and while he doesn’t realize that he loves you just yet, he knows something in him has been chemically altered by your smile, irrevocably so.

It’s Sunday when he realizes, somewhere between the checkered flag and the team debrief when you and the girls appear, practically crash into him like you’d been dropped down into the garage right from the sky. He hugs you, and you smell like sunshine. He wants to bash his head into the wall of his driver's room, to lay in front of Lando’s car and ask him to run him over because he’s not supposed to take note of the way you smell (unless it’s to call you out for smelling like shit). 

You kiss his cheek and shove his shoulder because you’re so happy for him, because you’re always so happy for him. He doesn’t think it’s fair for someone like him to always have someone this happy for him. He loves that about you. He loves everything about you. He loves you. Fuck, he’s in love with you. 

Lando nearly pees his pants over a tweet the next day. Carlos has reached a new level of Carlos-ing, it read, with a picture of him visibility distracted while being fed to the media pen. He can’t tell his teammate that the reason he’s so distracted is because he’s internally debating the pros and cons of ruining your friendship forever. 

You’re twenty-four when you and Carlos start dating. The two of you drag it out for as long as humanly possible, stretch the patience of everyone around you so thin they won’t be surprised (or concerned) at the idea of you and him getting together. It’s scary. Really, really scary to admit your feelings for each other, to tell the rest of the world about it, but Carlos keeps bringing you these mis-shapen flowers, ones where the dye is soaked up poorly or they’re a couple days too wilted. It’s our thing, he would always say, and kiss you while you cut the stems to fit in your favorite vase. 

He was right, it was something that was just yours. There was nobody else actively searching out dying flowers in the shops or carefully picking the dirtiest wildflower from its root on an evening walk through the city. That was just the two of you, and nobody else understood it. 

“It’s gross,” a friend told you, twiddling one of the half-dead flower stems between her fingers while you shared gossip over glasses of wine. “You got these today and they’re ready to be thrown in the bin.”

“You don’t get it,” you’d swatted her words away. The dead flowers weren’t understood, and they didn’t need to be. They were special to you and Carlos, and when it came down to it, nothing else mattered to you. 

“Seriously, though,” she’d continued, “It’s… I don’t know. Dead flowers, it’s just weird.”

Carlos is twenty-six when you break up. It’s mutual, it is. Even when it doesn’t feel like it’s mutual, when either one of you desperately searches to blame the other for the pitfalls, it’s still mutual, still two people who love each other. Who just aren’t in love with each other anymore. 

There’s a lot of reasons if you want to get into it, but his new drive is the catalyst for pretty much all of them. Carlos is with Ferrari now, which is the dream, but it's also the nightmare. McLaren is iconic and historic but Ferrari… well. Everyone knows the Vettel quote, everyone knows the kid’s car is red. Ferrari’s Ferrari and you’re just… you. Time runs out, patience runs thin, and that’s the end of it. 

You’re twenty-seven when you see him for the first time post-breakup. It’s a setup by your parents. Mallorca and the vineyard, again. You don’t think anything of it, so much has happened in the last decade and Mallorca is half of Spain’s favorite vacation destination. 

He’s sitting with his family at the bar, the whole clan of them sipping from a wine-tasting tray. His eyes shoot up to meet yours with the loud creak of the old, heavy doors. He does a double take, and your stomach turns into a ball of knotted necklaces. 

During the same tour you’d been on all those years ago, you sneak off with the same excuse you’d used. Blanca and Ana don’t follow after you to debate the environmental damages of bumming a cigarette in the grove or to threaten to snitch on you to your parents. They stay behind and listen and you stomp through the wildflowers to get some air. You’re already outside, Carlos would say if he were there. You’re my dirty air, you’d tell him, and he would roll his eyes, shove his hands deep in his pockets and rock on his heels. 

He knows you’re not in the bathroom, there isn’t a single nerve in your mind that thinks he doesn’t know exactly where you are. He doesn’t sneak off behind you. You gather your thoughts in the grove by yourself, leant against a tree older than you’ll dream of being. You pick a wildflower, one that looks picture perfect, snap it carefully from the root and stick the stem behind your ear. 

When you return to your party, they don’t notice you’ve been gone for far too long to use the bathroom or that you’ve got a flower in your hair. Well, all of them except Carlos, who slows his walking pace to drop to the back of the group next to you. “Nice flower,” he comments quietly. 

You nod, watch your feet as they move in synchronized steps with him on the grassy path. “Thanks.”

“It’s dead,” he adds, and you smile dimly. “It’s not nice to kill the flowers.”

Carlos is twenty-eight when he’s perusing the birthday card section at the local gift shop. He’s trying to find one that perfectly sums up his birthday wishes for you. It has to be sunny and happy and so, so sorry for everything (even when it’s nobody’s fault). It has to say, I’ll always love you without saying I am still terribly in love with you. It has to be subtle and obvious and endearing and serious and funny. It has to be everything his words can’t be. 

He eventually settles on one, tucks it into the yellow envelope and licks it shut. He handwrites your name on it messily, like you could get confused about who it’s for and need a label, or like he has a stack of yellow envelopes for dozens of other people sitting sealed on his kitchen counter. He goes to the florist next, picks out a stock arrangement from the fridge and a package of flower seeds. The final stop on his city tour is your apartment. Three knocks on your door, and then you’re undoing the deadbolt. 

“Hi,” you say, confused by his presence on your welcome mat. 

“Happy Birthday,” he smiles. “This is the last time I get you dead flowers.”

You and Carlos are thirty at your wedding. He cries when you walk down the aisle and there isn’t a single real flower in your bouquet. It’s all fake, and one of your friends asks if you’re worried it might look tacky or cheap. Anyone who thinks that shouldn’t be at our wedding, you’d told them. 

#pls nobody speak to me about the quality of the photos. #thank. #mack500 #do i hate this? yes #was i told to post it anyways? yes #ugh #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz angst #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 angst #f1 imagine #cs55 #ferrari #formula one #charlos #carlando #mclaren #red bull racing #ur mom says hi

[uniltsatirey]

In the Canopy

Pairing: Lo’ak x reader || Lo’ak x Na’vi Reader

Warnings: unedited, a bit rushed, probably ooc, Jake being weird 🫠

Summary: The day Jake thinks he’s finally caught Lo’ak in the middle of doing something stupid

Notes: this was much longer but bc tumblr deleted it, I cut down a lot of details I remember putting in so it can actually be a drabble and not a 2k+ fic… I’m sorry! 💗💫

To say that his son was a troublemaker was beyond accurate in his opinion, it was like constantly having to have eyes on the back of his head. He swore he could catch a pebble being thrown his way at this point with how much he’s had to pay attention since Lo’ak was able to run around. He loved his son all the same, but everyone knew Jake needed a rest before he aged another ten years in one.

So being told to see what Lo’ak was going out to do everyday before last meal wasn’t his idea of fun at the end of his day, leaving him annoyed as he silently follows behind his son. He was intent to just follow him and watch what he does, unwilling to put in more effort than he may actually need to use.

The canopy was thriving was syaksyuk, chirps and trills to every side both quiet and loud. Jake could hear yerik beneath him on the jungle floor, but he was eyes on Lo’ak— climbing to the upper reaches of the canopy. Jake had no idea why he was going to far up, until he began picking utumauti.

“Are you really out here to pick fruit..?” Jake mouths under his breath, relaxing back as he inhaled— the smell of a now busted fruit filling his nose, Lo’ak tossing the fruit down to the jungle floor for an animal to eat on.

It felt like a large waste of Jake’s time to sit and watch Lo’ak pick a small basket of utumauti and berries, even some mushrooms as he walked back. However when Lo’ak suddenly turned right, Jake caught back up.

Where was he going now? The tree was the other direction,

“I knew I seen something…”

Jake couldn’t see at all, not enough to see what his son was digging out of the river’s edge. He watched silently as Lo’ak eventually pulled up a washed off stone, purple and green fading together softly in almost muted tones.

Jake almost didn’t believe his own eyes.

Was Lo’ak really just out here gathering stuff?? For no reason? At least, no reason he could think of.

“This is perfect…”

He hum was quiet and excited, making jake bite his tongue. He was excited so maybe he’s just not gotten up to the trouble part yet. Jake swore Lo’ak was up to no good, he just hadn’t done it yet. Jake’s muscles were stiff by the time Lo’ak wandered off from the river, now with five stones in hand in varying color shades. He also held a black and blue flower in his hand, twirling it as he walked.

“Paskalin,”

His brows could raise no higher as his son spoke, the endearment leaving Jake to eye to young Na’vi girl his son was now sitting beside in a tree, facing the hometree but out of sight.

“Lo’ak? You said you were busy,” the girl smiles, hugging Lo’ak from the side.

“Mm, I made time for you… eat.”

Lo’ak was smiling, staring down as she began to eat the fruit. Jake didn’t believe it. He really felt like this wasn’t all of it. Like it was a pit stop on the way to cause trouble.

There was no way Lo’ak did all that just for her?

Except as Jake continued to bide his time, hidden in foliage and complaining in his head about stiff muscles and wasted time, he began to realize the longer the two teens talked that maybe… just maybe,

This time, it’s just Lo’ak.

“Thank you, Lo’ak…”

“For what, paskalin?”

“Going into the canopy for me, for fruit. I was telling you the other day I love utumauti.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s no big deal… I don’t mind getting you fruit, have to keep you as sweet as berries.”

“Lo’ak!”

#GhostieWrites🫡 #avatar #jake sully #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #loak fluff #loak sully #loak x reader #lo’ak fanfiction #Lo’ak drabble #Lo’ak x Na’vi reader #Lo’ak x fem reader

[tkpuke]

No Shame in Running

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3,830

In which you’ve always wanted to get your hands on the fantasy game your parents strictly banned in your household because of their beliefs of teenagers gaining a satanic/demonic worship. You soon realize there’s one person in Hawkins High who runs a club campaign around the game. You see this as your only chance.

(HEAVILY inspired by @sugars-fluffy-escapes ler!Eddie hcs. Go check her blog out!)

This is a tickle fic. Please do not read if that’s not your thing.

You, who’s barely surviving senior year, can’t place your finger on where exactly this sudden bravery came from. You had countless nights standing in the mirror, going over your lines, on how to persuade the leader of Hellfire club to let you join them without making it obvious this is your first time ever playing.

Your lunch table was near his, ears always picking up their discussions on the next campaign night or Eddie slamming down another news article about concerned parents believing their children are doing satanic rituals in their basement all due to the fantasy roleplaying game. You knew members of Hellfire club all had one thing in common. Labeled freaks or outsiders.

A clique you’re far from, thanks to the sports you’ve forced yourself into to make many friends as possible so you wouldn’t end up with a reputation of a lost sheep. You aren’t what Eddie typically scouts out for when it comes to new members. Loyalty, you’ve heard, is also a big part when it comes to campaign nights. You’ve seen more than once Eddie never takes excuses where you can’t make it tonight so lightly.

You would turn down every game with zero hesitation if it means getting to play Dungeons & Dragons until night falls.

So here you are now, clinging your sports bag a little too tightly from nervousness, because you tugged on his jacket to grab his attention and now his eyes are meeting yours, confused. It’s not everyday Eddie gets stopped heading home by a chick who walks down the halls with the title “Princess of Hawkins”. Being a goody two shoes and passing tests with flying colors gets a little exhausting over time. Thanks to your strict religious parents, you won’t be making much changes to that reputation anytime soon.

“Hello, can I—uh maybe uhm—talk to you for a minute or so..?” Oh god, you already feel the lump in your throat forming. You sense it all going downhill from here. You watch him cross his arms, leaning against the car but you still felt a bit intimidated on how easily he looms over you. To be honest, all metal-heads you’ve come across whether it’s at school or Starcourt mall, they’ve all looked too terrifying to approach. If you ever admitted that, your parents would never shut up on how they’re always right and to always listen to them.

“Uh, sure. Okay. I don’t see why not.” He says ever so casually which does not ease your worry, because you know from here you’ll continue to stumble over your words and take forever to get straight to the point. You don’t remember when you started fiddling with your sleeves, but it’ll be another nervous habit added to the list.

“The uh—y’know the uh—Game? The Dungeons and Dragons game? Of course you know—“ Eddie deserves a medal for being so patient, you thought. Whenever you seem to have trouble finding the right words to your question, your friends half the time finish for you. Frustrating, to say the least.

“Well, I’ve been thinking..” you let yourself continue, releasing a held back sigh. Kicking a pebble around keeps you busy from not letting your eyes hold his stare for more than five seconds.

Oh, just rip the bandaid off!

And so you did. You told him you want to play, told him no, you can’t go buy the game yourself because your parents would kill you if they ever found out, and how he’s your only chance. Or so you see it. You may have fell on the more dramatic path of persuading, telling him it’s been your dream to indulge in the fantasy worlds the game holds and how you stay up on school nights writing away about your potential characters, and if he declines for whatever reason you will die on the spot. Maybe. Possibly.

Jesus Christ, you sound like a big nerd right now. Hence explains you checking your surroundings every few seconds to be clear your teammates aren’t searching for you on why you haven’t showed up to practice yet.

It’s because you’re trying to plead your way into Hellfire club with their leader Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

Who, you now realizing, hasn’t said a single word after your rushed explanation. You finally bring your eyes to his, a chuckle spilling out which is the last reaction you were expecting. Well, being laughed at was something you imagined. You wouldn’t take yourself seriously either.

“Pinch me if I’m dreaming, but did the Y/N L/N just ask what I thought she asked?”

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself.” You stand up a little straighter, trying to show off the little confidence you can find in you. You blame your parents for having such strict rules on you and being told what’s the essence of evil and what isn’t. The do’s and don’ts you’ve been following since you were a child gotten you into shit like this. Brought more curiosity and fascination to you than anything, something your parents are trying to steer away from. You truly believe this is your biggest interest, rather than the common curricular activities parents hope their children take apart in. Anything but getting together with a few close friends in a hideout, spreading the game apart on a table, and become heroes in a fantasy land which turns out to be all fake in the end.

Heaven forbid that.

“You sure the demons, ohh the orcs, the monsters,” Eddie wiggles his fingers high in the air, slowly bringing them close to your face in mock of a so-called monster about to capture you, of course morphing a petrifying face for special effects. “Won’t scare your socks off?”

You all but scoff at his little theatric. “Is it suppose to?” You were tempted to pull out your sketchbook right then and there. The sketchbook you never dared to show anybody, pages filled with pencil drawings of creatures you spent hours on. To the smallest ogre to the biggest dragon. The absolute joy it fuels you up with is unexplainable.

So then your Tuesday afternoon just got a little better after you parted your ways. Eddie suggested next Friday at the trailer he lives, where it’ll be you two together where he has a starter set for newcomers. You were a bit surprised it’s possible to play the game as a duet, Eddie assuring a player and a dungeon master would do just fine. I guess it’s best to start off easy than immediately being embarrassed by the group with your zero knowledge on how to play.

Although, your interactions with him didn’t end there. You spent the following days before next Friday rolled around the corner by making small talk. Those small talks turned into full conversations after school, letting him walk you to practice. To passing notes in history class you share with him, trying to get you to laugh which ends up you getting a stern look from the teacher.

You couldn’t wrap your head on how well you were getting along with Eddie Munson, sharing a few common interests. If you would’ve known the labeled Hawkins High freak isn’t mean and scary like everyone’s description of him, approaching the guy wouldn’t have been so hard for you. Hated by those who don’t understand him, but become so lovable once you do. You kind of acknowledge his dislike towards the popular cliques, feeling quite thankful he saw you weren’t a copy and paste of their stuck up personalities.

Friday finally arrived. You were fired up all throughout the day. Your assignment scores were most likely affected by how distracted your mind was, leg bouncing in all classes from eagerness. The minute the last bell rang, you sprang out of your chair, slightly startling those around you. Being the first one in your locker row, having few seconds of trouble when picking the combination code. You collected all your stuff, shoved them into your blue Jansport backpack that looks to be on it’s last life, then closed your lock—

“Boo!” Fingers suddenly squeezed your sides ever so lightly, but apparently with enough pressure to pull a giggly squeal from your lips.

It does not get unnoticed by him.

You can only guess who would be amused by seeing you jump unexpectedly, quickly turning around to land a soft slap on Eddie’s shoulder. His stupid grin is what you’re mostly glaring at because of how much it overtakes his facial features. “Tonight’s your night, Y/N.” He says while giving your shoulders a few victorious shoves. You lend him your bag to help carry, the fifteen pound books causing a strain on your poor back.

“My parents think I’m going over a friend’s house to help tutor.” You tell him as you hop into the passenger seat, grabbing the seatbelt. You do tutor often, so the excuse didn’t rise any suspicious questions from them. As long as you’re back home before dinner, you’ll be all good.

“Little do they know…” He begins with one of the many impressions he does when putting on a dramatic act, this one sounding deep and groggily. “Their daughter will be participating in a satanic ritual! Losing her soul to the dying king of VECNA!” You almost burst out laughing by how ridiculous he looks, shaking your head in disbelief.

Don’t be fooled to think his theatrics end so soon, for he is now faking a wholehearted sob which almost causes a double take from you. “My poor daughter, she’s now ruined. This game is killing her, oh please, my poor sweet daughter!” Couldn’t be more obvious Eddie is doing a perfect imitation of how your parents would react if they ever found out your real whereabouts. Even clutching his heart, you rate the acting five stars, a little too well done.

“You’re an idiot, Munson.”

You watch him set up the game on the kitchen table, not sure on what else to do besides stare. You slowly circle around to view photo frames on the walls, judge on the decor designs, and the choice of coloring in the living room. You heard chairs being pulled apart, seeing Eddie pat one to signal you to sit and let the fun begin.

In doing so, your opened backpack spilled out two cassette tapes by the force of carelessly slinging it off your shoulders. Before you had the time to quickly bend down and pick them up, Eddie has already beaten you to it.

“Tears for Fears? Abba? How cute.” He couldn’t resist but tease, gladly letting you snatch them from his hold as your cheeks are a tint of pink thanks to embarrassment.

“Shut up, let’s just start.”

So far, you’d be happy to say the amount of enjoyment your having has caused you to lose track of time. The street lights turning on which is your cue to head back home for dinner, but the game was far from being over.

You slayed every villain who dared to cross your young hero’s path, Kaliope Darkwalker. Class? Half-elf. Eddie once brought up it’s no fun to go the basic route of choosing your first character to be pure human or pure elf, so you settled with a bit of everything. Your charisma and wisdom levels aren’t complain worthy, overall patting yourself on the back for how great you’re doing. Eddie occasionally breaking character to acknowledge your small success.

Handed success tends to reveal a cocky side, though.

“This the best beasts this module can bring to the table? I call this light work.” You mindlessly say, not catching the swift demeanor change from Eddie in the corner of your eye. The smirk itching on his face speaks volumes, whipping out a character and slamming it in front of yours without warning.

You eye the figurine, painted red from head to toe with horns being on every place on his body. Wings spread out, claws looking like they get sharpened every five minutes. Buff to the core, making your character look like a total joke compared to this spawn of Satan.

“W..who’s this?” You meekly ask, seeing the future of you calling quits on this battle. Eddie seems thrilled you ask, standing a little to tower over you so he can earn some horror points. His eyes don’t blink once when his gaze falls upon yours, but you on the other hand tells a different story.

“Your most gruesome battle yet.” Eddie starts off, startling you by completely standing to wander agonizingly slow behind you. “This evil overlord has a not so pretty history of his victims. Mercy does not exist in his world, you’d be a fool to believe he’ll ever make this a fair fight.” The hairs on your arms rise up from his low whispers close to your ear, cursing mentally to yourself on how terrifyingly great Eddie is in being in character. Or maybe you’re just a wimp, one of the two.

Before you had the time to ask what exactly are his most effective attacks, Eddie’s introduction speech hasn’t come to an end. “Do you know what replenishes his mana?” A question, but Eddie answers before you even registered it.

“Laughter.”

Well, that’s a new one. You’re not sure if you heard him correctly, but Eddie flat out doesn’t flinch by your puzzled expression settling in. You decide to call him out on his bullshit. “You’re making this up. This guy came out of nowhere, I was heading to visit a merchant. What’s his deal?”

A d20 and d4 dice rolls to your direction, hesitantly picking the two up. You look up to see him lay back in his chair, releasing a relaxed sigh. “What are you waiting for? Place your attack.” You must’ve looked like you were waiting for his permission, but in all honesty you didn’t felt the need to try knowing how this fight would end. There’s no way in hell the total roll would equal or exceed this beast’s armor class.

Eddie’s aware. Of course he is, that little shit.

“You know I won’t win.” Eddie tsked, resting his elbows on his knees to level more with you. “Now, you won’t with that attitude.” His chair scoots in a little closer, ready to be fueled of entertainment on your poor attempts. Your poor, poor attempts where it’ll lead you nowhere. “Best hope luck is on your side, Y/N.”

Needless to say, you found yourself seconds after covering your face in loss, head hanging low in disappointment. You weren’t dumb. This outcome was seen miles away, but there wasn’t a door to escape. You slump defeatedly in your chair, blowing a couple of hair strands away from your face. Your attention goes back to Eddie, seeing him stand before rounding the table in a questionable stance.

Almost like he’s about to pounce.

“A very unfortunate turn of events on this young hero. Kaliope watches in terror the monster cornering her, fingers wiggling high above the half-elf, prepared to deliver his own brutal attack.” You got to your feet quick as lightning, putting distance between you and those goddamn wiggly fingers you have no interest in finding out where they’ll land.

“You’re kidding, right?” You say in hopes he reassures everything is for the sake of dramatic effect. Well, sorry, but he doesn’t. Instead gifts you a grin, that stupid grin you can’t help but notice a dimple poking out. You also can’t help but notice your heart fluttering whenever he does that. Huh.

“There is no shame, in running.”

You did not need to be told twice. There’s really nowhere to run off to, betting you’ll get caught in a minute. All you know is the trailer is not fit for a full on chase, so you end up outside. You thought participating in track your freshman year would help you out at a time like this, but arms wrapped around your torso and soon your feet weren’t touching the ground anymore.

Eddie plopped himself down on the couch, your back against his chest. You felt fingers crawl in position on the top set of your ribs, going straight for the kill and he doesn’t even know it yet. “Ready to face the consequences of your actions?”

“You literally told me to ru—WAHAIT!” A ear piercing screech immediately ripped from your throat, Eddie halting his moves because he seriously couldn’t debate whether he just accidentally hurt you or it tickled badly. “Don’t tell me I found your killer spot? So soon?” There is no need to confirm, but his growing smirk caused you to panic by the second.

“Eddie plehehease, let’s taHAHALK!” A new strong wave of laughter interrupted your sentence, squirming left to right as fingers danced around your rib cage like he’s playing some sort of guitar. Your laughs are the tunes, sweet music to his ears. “Sorry, what? I didn’t catch what you said.” He leans over to hint at you to repeat yourself, and you gladly would if he didn’t fucking stop switching the paces of his squeezes to leave you going crazy.

“I cahan’t! ihihit TICKLES!” A squeal spills out whenever Eddie scratches dangerously close to your navel, catching onto this discovery. A fake gasp escapes his lips, a mock of sympathy lacing his tone. “Are you serious? Shit, I’m sorry.” The sweet spot around your stomach area was then greeted by ten fingers pinching and prodding on every place of skin they found. Your cackles shot an octave higher, gripping onto his wrists to pull them apart with all the strength you could muster up, but they never budged. In response to your failed attempt, Eddie began to crept his way up to your underarms.

“NO! Noho! Don’t you fucking dare you big—“ whatever insult you were about to hit him got thrown out the window by his blunt nails going to town on your underarms, getting trapped by your arms snapping down to your sides. “No no, finish that sentence. I’m a big what?”

You completely went ballistics. Eddie joined your laughter, but for your over the top hilarious reactions because of a little tickling. In your opinion, you surely don’t consider this a little tickling. Your first wheeze came out, after that your laughs became hoarse. He took this as his cue to stop, for now, watching you suck in air greedily. “Anywhere buhut there..” you told him like he wasn’t already aware you couldn’t handle being tickled at that deadly spot.

“Well, you see, I would go somewhere else but my hands seem to be stuck.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for a few seconds, as if he’s attempting to pull them out. You giggled hard, but quickly raised your arms up to free his hands. You were fooled to believe it ended there, climbing off but to only be pushed back down on his lap by a curious tweak of your hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie asked then placed rapid squeezes on your hipbone, catching you off guard that you snorted. A sound that makes you want to die on the spot. Eddie removed his fingers from your hips, seeing you crumble in a heap of leftover giggles by his side. “Wow, I’ll save that type of fun for another time.” He raises his hands up in surrender, softly smiling down at you to let you know he’s done. No more surprise attacks.

You rub the ticklish sensation off your sides, taking a cold glass of water from Eddie and thanking him. This wasn’t something you imagined how this night would go, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. You had fun. A type of fun you don’t normally have with your lunch table friends. A fun where you truly could express who you are without worrying about judgmental eyes falling on you.

“You’re such an asshole.” You broke the silence, shaking your head, but he knew you meant it in a playful manner. You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down before speaking. “I wonder if you’re just as ticklish as me.”

Eddie backed away with his hands held up defensively, giving you a stern look. “Calm down, let’s not do something you’ll regret.” You scoffed as you trailed your eyes outside, seeing the stars scattered around the dark sky. A beautiful full moon to be adored.

Hold on. How long have you been here?

You jump up from the couch, running to the kitchen to snatch your backpack. The urgency got Eddie to chuckle, opening the door for you to run out. “I’m assuming your dinner is now cold?” You nod frantically, cursing to yourself mentally for not keeping an eye on how fast the time went. Your parents are definitely gonna bombard you with questions the minute you step inside the house.

You insisted on walking home since Forest Hills trailer park isn’t far from your neighborhood, but he wasn’t having it. After a couple seconds of bickering, you eventually climbed into the passenger seat. You weren’t really looking forward on walking home in the chilly darkness, anyways.

He parked next to the curb, tossing you your backpack once you were fully out. You waved a goodbye, making your way to the front porch. Eddie stayed to make sure you got inside safely, but before you searched for your house key you glanced behind you.

“I’ll see you next Friday, maybe?” You asked, both of you sharing a smile as he shoots you a thumbs up. You tiptoed to grab a plate of the leftovers your family had, heading up to your room to continue on the history flash cards you made yesterday for your upcoming exam. Feeling blessed your parents are already in bed when you arrived, so you didn’t have to frantically find an excuse on why you’re an hour late.

In the end, you have gotten what you wanted. Playing the game of your dreams, experiencing the thrill you knew it would give you. You may have also made a new friend along the way, a person you never thought you would get along with. Someone who you’ve been told to stay away from. Although, the more time you spent with the guy who had his name bounced around in negative conversations, you did not see what half of Hawkins high are seeing. You did not see a freak, or someone mean and scary. Eddie Munson is any ordinary guy trying to get through high school like the rest of the attended students, the one difference being having a hobby that isn’t art or sports.

It’s the love for a innocent fantasy game. The love of creating your own campaign with your friends who are more than happy to get together and go on countless adventures, never guessing how it’ll end. The game brings the best imagination out of the people you play with, and that is something you truly admire about your new friend, Eddie Munson.

#ler!eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader tickle fic #tickle fic #stranger things tickle #stranger things tickle fic #stranger things fic #stranger things eddie munson #tickle community #tickle fluff #tickle hcs #stranger things tickle hcs #tkpuke fics #my first ever tickle fic lets go??? #dnd fanatics don’t come for me because I know there might be some inaccuracies abt the game #i never played mb

[softmick]

tag game thursday

once again i’m late on tag game tuesday (and other things) because i just cannot tuesday (and other things). so here’s a picrew that i was tagged to do and also wayyy too much about me! 

super big thank you to @catluvver118​ @mybrainismelted  @krystallouhoo​ @energievie​  @ardent-fox​ @lingy910y​ @such-a-barbarian​ for tagging me

ayyyyy.

Name meagan.

Whereabouts in the world are you? southern usa.

Do you have any pets? two! an orange cat named chunk and a tabby named scrappy (they are actually both chunky).

What do you do for work? i am blissfully unemployed.

Favorite fruit? i’m gonna say strawberry but it might be mango.

A pet peeve of yours: when people leave carts all over the parking lot or put them back sloppily.

Are you a fast walker or a slow walker? usually fast.

How do you usually wear your hair? side part, down.

Sunny days or rainy days? i need both, but generally prefer sun.

What time do you usually go to bed? it varies wildly because i am bad at taking my meds and performing self-care. 11pm-3am?

what time do you usually wake up? 9am-12pm (see above).

if you were a cartoon character, what would be your everyday outfit? in the summer a black tank and jean shorts. in the winter a black tshirt and gray sweatpants, maybe a jacket.

Something you’d like to learn: so many things. scuba. better writing. fluent spanish. embroidery. time management.

And finally, tell me something that made you happy recently: i had a really good birthday yesterday!

🩷❤️🧡💛

name: still meagan. :)

pronouns: she/her.

where do you call home? florida.

favorite animal: i love cats and sloths and cows and possums and manatees.

cereal of choice: i don’t really love cereal, but i’ll eat honey nut cheerios, honey bunches of oats, fruity pebbles, cinnamon toast crunch.

are you a visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner? i’ve always thought that i do best with linguistic (reading/writing) but i’m questioning it now. probably auditory?

first pet? my family always had animals, but the first to really be mine was a gray tabby named peter pan.

favorite scent? if i had to pick one it would be my partner. but i have lots.

do you believe in astrology? horoscopes, no. signs as a tool for self-inquiry and reflection? sure. i follow a lot of astrology meme accounts. but my actual knowledge is very very basic.

how many playlists do you have on spotify/apple music? 16 in my library, but i didn’t make all of them!

sharpies or highlighters? highlighters!

a song that makes you cry: joanne by lady gaga. it was my grandma’s name and when i hear it i think about her and my aunt and my sister. all of whom have passed.

a song that makes you happy: hmm. any 80s pop but this is the first one i thought of was hungry like the wolf by duran duran.

and finally, do you write/draw/create? if so, use this as an opportunity to shamelessly (😉) promote yourself! all i have atm is on here tagged #mine 🤞but hopefully i’ll be posting something on ao3 this weekend!

💚🩵💙💜

Rules: pick five songs that someone else introduced me to that have made their way into my regular rotation then tag 5 people.

#tag game #me #music #Spotify

[draagu]

just beat rivulet its rambling time

this will also include gourmand's run because i forgot to talk about it when i beat it xp

SPOILERS FOR GOURMAND AND RIVULET BELOW!!!

(first off i adore this completion art work i hadn't seen it before and i smiled so much when i did)

augh where do i even begin

this was my first run with major changes in the map so it was really neat exploring all of that! i knew the rot in five pebbles was a thing but i had never actually seen it and man that was an experience to go through

also memory crypts! i didnt know that one changed either! honestly it was a lot easier to run through because i didnt have to wait for miros birds and pray that they werent camping a tunnel

the movement was definitely something to get used to. i struggled at first but after getting the hang of it im definitely going to miss it when i play spearmaster. backflipping to skip areas my beloved <3

quick segment to talk about my slugpup because they were with me almost the whole way!!

i think i found them back in industrial complex within the first hour or so? we went through the whole adventure together waaah

i even installed immortal pups so they wouldnt drown when going through submerged superstructure only to be TORN APART AFTER GETTING TO THE HEART AND BEING TOSSED AROUND?? i was so sad when i rested and saw their little food pip bar fade :(( miss u everyday pup that i never named </3

its been a couple of weeks so i dont have the biggest memory of the experience but i was able to get and bring a slugpup the whole way haha. i think i found it in the beginning of outer expanse maybe? i forgot what my friend named them but it was something from avatar?

anywho that slugpup would not stop picking up explosives im a little scared of it

i dont think i ever found the opportunity to squish something which is sad, but i did do the challenges surrounding that feature and they were fun :D

thats sort of it for now! not excited to deal with red lizards in spearmaster but i gotta do what i gotta do :')

#dragurambles #rain world #rivulet #gourmand

[strawberryvanillablast]

Bubbly Hex (Giorno Giovanna X Reader)

. 

This wasn’t a good idea, you figure. 

You and Giorno were on the trail for a Stand User that was hypnotizing people to do their bidding. Not exactly what you’d call original in terms of motivation but it’s a threat nonetheless. Of course, the Stand User split themselves into two and it’s Giorno’s idea to split up. Did he not want take the risk of you being hypnotized or did he want to prove a point? Anyway, turns out you were tracking down a copy. 

Well, that could only mean one thing. You made your way towards Giorno and it was a tight battle, you had to admit. Of course, the Stand User aimed something at you but Giorno moved and took the brunt of the hit. You clutch onto him in the hopes that it would reduce or nullify the Stand affect. Your fingers clutch onto his hair gently and you mused that it was soft and fluffy. Using some quick wit, you’d began to trap the Stand User in some mucky goop, noting that they’re trapped. 

“Giorno,” You ask, holding his face in your hands. “Giorno, can you hear me?” 

It was a little weird to see Giorno, of all people, in a trance like this. He blinked in steady beats, his green eyes glazed over. You bite your lip, hoping that the other guys would arrive soon. Sure enough, Mista, Fugo, and Narancia arrived in four, no, five minutes. Giorno slowly blinked and stood up straight, towering over you. 

“G-Giorno,” You shiver, intimidated by his stare. “It’s just me, remember?” 

You watch as Giorno closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and undid his braid as well as those victory curls on his head. You and the others stood confused. Then he opened his eyes again and gave all of you a sincerely cheery grin before you were pulled into the biggest bear hug that he could muster. All of you gaped. The Don of Passione obviously didn’t care as he continued to hug you. 

“Oh, [Y/N], you are just too cute for this world,” Giorno cheerily squealed. “You’re so cute and lovable and oh my gosh I can’t handle it at all! So cute, so cute!” His face looked softer and more cheerful than you’ve seen him when he pulled away a little from you. “I’m so happy that you’re here in Passione!” 

“...Giorno,” Mista blinked, not believing his eyes. “Giorno, dude, are you okay?” 

“Mista, Mista,” Giorno turned to him, not letting you go. “I’m more than okay! I’m great with a capital G!” He giggled as he buried his face into your neck, hugging you like you were a teddy bear. You felt yourself bounce up and down as Giorno jumped up and down with unbridled joy. 

“Uh, that’s great, Giorno,” Fugo added uncertainly. “But is it okay if you could let [Y/N] go?” He looked at you in sympathy. “I think you’re restricting their moving.” 

Giorno blinked slowly as he looked at Fugo and then at you, his cheer turning in an expression of confusion. You gave him a weak smile as a response. If you’re being honest, you didn’t know if the Stand’s effect would make him volatile. As it stood, his confusion turned into shock and then into horror.

“Oh...Oh no,” He blubbered. “Am I hurting you, [Y/N]?! I’m so sorry! Here, I....!” 

He gently released you from his grip and you gave him an affectionate pat on the head. You didn’t know how to feel about this new development, but for Passione, you were willing to pacify Giorno through the effects of this Stand. And it was the change to see stoic Giorno, calm and collected, be this hyper and bubbly. Giorno smiled and leaned into your touch, chirping happily. 

“Woah,” Narancia spoke what everyone was thinking. “This is way too weird.” He waved a hand in Giorno’s face. “I thought hypnotized people acted like zombies.” Narancia continued to stare at his Don, who was smiling like a giddy child. 

“I think I reduced some of its effects,” You frowned as you saw Abbacchio as well as Bruno appear on the horizon. “But I don’t know how long this effect is going to last.” You look at Giorno, who was busy turning random pebbles into flowers. “Er, perhaps we should apprehend the Stand User and get back to the villa. I mean it would be, uh, the best option for now.” 

“You guys caught the Stand User,” Abbacchio asked, narrowing his eyes. “Then, let’s get going. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can fix this mess.” 

You nod and looked back at Giorno, who was bouncing up and down like a kid in a candy store. You hesitated for a brief moment before gently taking his hand. At that, you gasp. It was warm, smooth, and barely had any calluses. You looked at him and nearly died at his expression. He was grinning from ear to ear, blushing, and flowers were growing at your feet. 

“Oh my gosh, we’re holding hands, we’re holding hands! This is like a dream!” 

“A dream,” You raise an eyebrow. “I thought your dream was to become a primo mafioso.” 

“Can’t I have two dreams at once~?” 

You laugh. You knew that it was a fabrication due to the Stand but you couldn’t help but be flattered at how the Don was treating you. You decided to indulge it for a little while and then think about the consequences later. You led Giorno by the hand to the van where the others were waiting. Fugo took you aside as the trouble duo took Giorno. 

“So, we got some information out of the Stand User,” Fugo explained. “And the effects lasts for about a week.” He paused before giving you a gentle glance. “I also found out that the Stand effects don’t fabricate emotions. So, it’s good that his feelings for you are genuine.” 

“...What.” 

“Hey, Fugo, [Y/N],” Mista poked his head out. “You might wanna hear this.” 

You and Fugo look at each other before getting into the van. Narancia and Bruno were with Giorno and Narancia beckoned you to come over. You scooted over to hear what Giorno had to say. You were conflicted. On one hand, you were sure a plenty that the Stand User might be lying to you. On the other hand, Fugo didn’t, to your knowledge, have any reason to lie to you either. 

“Hey, Gio,” Narancia smiled. “How much do you like [Y/N] and why do you like [Y/N] so much?” 

“Uh, Narancia,” You began. “I don’t think...!” 

“Well, I like [Y/N] tons and tons,” Giorno replied giddily. “In fact, I love them! By a lot! By this much!” He held his arms out wide. “And the reason why I like them so much is because they’re really cute and really kind! And because they were nice! Not just everyday but also when they first met me!” He rocked back and forth. “It, uh, felt nice when they were nice to me even when I was just a scary Don!” 

You remembered what he was talking about. It was when you decided to join the mafia. You gave him your best smile and had a nice chat with him. And your first impression of him was that he was a generally kind if somewhat stoic and cool. 

“I felt really, really, really happy inside,” He continued. “But I couldn’t say it right there and then because we were busy. But I wanted to tell [Y/N] that every day! But I couldn’t.” He frowned. “And now, they think I’m lying.” His eyes welled up. 

“O-Oh,” You blink, biting your lip. “G-Giorno, I...” 

“But I’m not lying,” Giorno piped up. “I feel nice whenever I’m with you, [Y/N]!” It was a moment before he pulled you into another hug. “You didn’t treat me at all like I was your enemy! You treated me with respect! You didn’t lick my face or... or try to make me drink urine in a cup or be wary of me when you joined!” 

You had to raise your eyebrow at that last line before turning to the others, who’d all look incredibly guilty. Sighing, you felt a wetness on your shoulder. Oh dear. It must be a side effect of the Stand. You rubbed circles into his back. 

“Oh, Giorno,” You smile. “I know you’re not lying. And I like-like you too! In fact, I love you more than you can ever know!” 

You decided to give him a sweet smooch on the bridge of his nose. He squealed in happiness and returned the favor by peppering you with lots of kisses. Both of you laughed and soon, the others joined in too. 

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #jojo part 5 #jjba part 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno giovanna #bruno buccellati #guido mista #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #leone abbacchio #reader #fluff

[talkfastromance4]

Flowers 4+1// ashton irwin oneshot

A/N: this is my first ever 4+1 fic so I’m kind of nervous, thank you Angie @littledrummerangie for the idea! This is also SUPER indulgent as being a birthday fic for me and a birthday fic with Ashton😅 since mine is the day before his. This has everything I love in it, flowers, hot tubs, a cabin, christmas, love… This is 4 times Ashton gives you flowers and 1 time you give him flowers

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

Enjoy!💕

*****

One

The first time they met was when Andy and Sarah invited Ashton to help her move into her new place. The movers basically set all the boxes and furniture into her house and then left her to her own devices. She called Andy and Sarah for help and if they had any reinforcements it would be greatly appreciated. 

She was trying to find wine glasses when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it she had to look up at her guest. His copper brown hair fell in waves and necklaces hung perfectly down his neck, his hazel eyes were bright and friendly.

First, she noticed how good looking he is and the second thing she noticed was the mason jar filled with orange and peach flowers. 

“Uh, hi can I help you?” she asks suddenly feeling very self-conscious of her ratty t-shirt and paint splotched shorts. 

“I’m Ashton and I’m your honorary mover,” he smiles. “Andy called me. You must be Y/N.”

“Must be. I mean--yes, I am! And oh, right, wow. Sorry, please come in and thank you for helping,” she says, moving aside to let him in.

“Yeah, of course. These are for you,” he holds out the mason jar. “A housewarming gift.”

“Thank you so much,” she smiles, taking the flowers with both hands. Their fingers brush. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really?” his eyes bore into hers and she’s momentarily frazzled. 

“Apart from my mom or grandpa but...um, I’ll put these in the kitchen. Andy’s in the bedroom putting the bed together if you’d like to help in there.”

She escapes into the kitchen where Sarah is wiping down the fridge. 

“Who was at the door? What pretty flowers!” 

“Your friend Ashton and he gave me these,” you touch one of the roses before burying your nose in the plumage. The petals tickle your nose and the scent is wonderful. 

“He’s sweet like that,” Sarah smiles. “Did you find the glasses?”

“No,” Y/N huffs, setting the flowers on the counter by the sink. “They’re probably in the bathroom or something.”

“We’ll find them.”

The four of them continue working on unpacking and it isn’t until about 10 o’clock when Andy and Ashton enter the living room.

“The bed, vanity, and dressers are all assembled,” Andy announces wiping at his brow. 

“We’re the poor man's Avengers,” Ashton laughs. “We put the bed in the middle of the wall and the vanity next to the window. Best lighting to do make-up.”

“That’s...perfect actually, thank you guys,” Y/N smiles, balling up the newspaper and shoving it in a large garbage bag. She just finished placing her books on the shelves, she’ll sort them later in the week. 

“We were thinking of getting pizza,” Andy says.

“Pizza sounds great! Here, I’ll give you some money--”

“No, my treat,” Ashton says, “you’ve been working hard.”

After eating pizza they all went back to unpacking and Ashton made comments about the art pieces she has. He asks where she wants each one hung up. 

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll put them up later,” she waves her hand at him. 

“It’s my job as honorary mover,” he grins. 

Midnight came upon them sooner than she would like. Andy and Sarah headed out because of Pebbles, she’s been cooped up all day so it was just Ashton and Y/N. He asked questions while unpacking to get to know her better and he was very open to her questions. 

He stayed until 3 in the morning but he made sure to get her number before he left. She took a photo of the flowers on the counter before going to bed.

Two

She changed her outfit about a dozen times. Her bed was covered in discarded clothes and she still had to put on her makeup. The clock on her wall ticked reminding her that Ashton would be here in a little less than an hour. 

It’s been six months since he helped her move in and in that time, they became close. He showed her all of the best coffee shops and bookstores he knew of. He introduced her to the rest of his band and they accepted her kindly. 

She accompanied them on outings, parties, and Ashton always made sure to stick close with her. He knew she was shy around new people so he always made sure to include her in conversation. 

One night when he was walking her back to her door after going to dinner with the band and their significant others, he was acting strange. He was unusually quiet and she’d find him staring at her across the table. 

“So, I’ll see you Monday, right?” she asked, shuffling through her purse for her house key. 

“How about Saturday?” 

“This Saturday? I thought we were going to try that new restaurant Monday with Andy and Sarah?”

“I mean, we can do that, too but I was thinking...Saturday could just be us. You and me.”

The air changed between them and she stopped looking for her keys. She turned to face him but she couldn’t quite read his expression. 

“Oh, okay. Did you want to watch that new movie on Netflix?”

“Y/N, I’m trying to ask you on a date here,” he laughed nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Ask me on a...you are? Oh God, and I’m ruining it. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

“You could never ruin anything,” he smiled. “But, would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” his hazel eyes were hopeful and Y/N couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

“I’d love to Ash,” she smiled. 

And now here she is, half naked and indecisive on what to wear. She shouldn’t be freaking out like this, it’s Ashton. But it’s also *Ashton. Ashton who can always make her laugh and he makes her feel safe and they always have fun together. But it’s also Ashton who gives her butterflies whenever he touches her lower back and her heart race when he gives her a hug. 

Her phone buzzes and it’s Ashton letting her know he’ll be there in forty-five minutes. She lets out a loud groan and goes back to her closet, maybe a new article of clothing she’s never seen will just reappear. 

To her astonishment, there was a maroon dress that she wore to a wedding. 

“Might as well,” she sighs and puts it on. It really doesn’t look half bad as she looks at herself in the mirror. 

She rushes to put on her makeup and by the time she spritzes on her perfume, the doorbell rings. She checks that she has everything in her clutch and moves to the door. 

It’s like a deja vu moment from six months ago because he’s handsome as ever and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. His necklaces are perched perfectly in the V of his white button up shirt and it contrasts nicely with his skin. These flowers are full of pink and white flowers with a hint of peach thrown in there. The ivory paper crinkles when his fingers squeeze it, his eyes widen at the sight of her. 

“Wow, you look...wow.”

“You’re pretty wow yourself,” she giggles then glances at the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Um, yes,” he holds his hand out, the flowers bumping your chest. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she laughs, taking them from him and buries her face in the center of it. “They smell wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

He follows her into the house, she doesn’t see him glance down at her ass in the dress. He’s rubbing his neck again when she looks at him getting a vase from the counter. She fills it with water and arranges the flowers. 

“So, where are we going?”

**

They’re sitting outside the restaurant, it’s a warm breezy summer night. The rustic atmosphere feels comfortable but when she flicks her gaze at Ashton over the drink menu, he’s drinking his glass of water heartily. His other hand is tapping against the table, it’s a thing he does when he’s nervous. 

“Thirsty, huh?” She tries to ease his unusual activity and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, throat’s a little dry,” he clears his throat just as the waitress comes by. 

She takes their drink order and Ashton requests a pitcher of water if it’s available. Their roles are reversed, she’s the one doing most of the talking and he’s the one who’s listening. She can tell he’s still being reserved so she takes out her phone and points it at him.

“Smiiile!” She sings turning on portrait mode. 

“Why?” He laughs nervously but it makes him smile so she snaps the photo. 

“Because, the lighting is perfect and you look cute,” she flirts with a smile.

Ashton laughs again but it’s his real laugh, the laugh that always gets her laughing. She snaps as many photos as she can and it seems to have done the job of making him act like himself. Even though they’ve hung out nearly everyday, the evening still had the air of a first date. 

They even tried each other’s food. She stabbed her chicken and noodle with her fork, blew on it, and fed it to him across the table. 

“Wow, that is really good,” he hums in approval. He swirls his own noodles on his fork and feeds her slowly. 

“That sauce is amazing,” she moans, loving the lemon flavor. 

They share a dessert of chocolate mousse and split the strawberry. After dinner, he took her to the art museum. They're open later in the summertime. There were only a few people meandering in the open space and standing stagnant in front of pieces. 

“This is why I wanted to bring you here,” he says, taking her hand easily in his own. 

Her butterflies returned and he lead her all the way to the back. It was a Claude Monet exhibit and she tried to look at the paintings but Ashton was on a mission to a certain piece. He stops in front of it and she stares in amazement at the painting. It’s of Claude Monet on his boat. She gasps, staring at it and Ashton is staring at her. 

It’s the painting she tried to replicate when she was younger in her art class. It’s the painting that introduced her to Monet because the style was similar and it always stuck with her. She told him she wanted to find the painting when they first met and stayed up until 3 in the morning.

“You remembered this?” she asks, stepping closer to it. She makes sure their hands are still locked together, his thumb is rubbing her skin in soothing circles. 

“Your eyes always light up when you talk about things that matter to you. They’re always so bright when you talk about him...and when I give you flowers.”

“Ashton this is…” she shakes her head at a loss for words. She gazes upon the painting, loving the visibility of the palette strokes and the blending of the colors. Tears formed in her eyes. “This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she wipes the stray tear that slipped from her eye.

“Hey,” he says softly. His fingers graze her cheek tilting her face towards him. 

His thumb rubs at the leftover tear, his own face inching closer to hers. She closes her eyes, exhaling when his lips brush against hers. He squeezes her hand, his lips controlled and gentle yet also hesitant. As if he’s testing the waters. 

They unabashedly makeout in front of the paintings and in her mind she’s thinking of what they look like to an outsider. Still life man and woman lost in each other.

Three

The holidays arrived faster than she wanted them to. She still had a ton of shopping to do for her family but at least her flight is scheduled. Ashton is accompanying her on the trip and she’s so excited for him to meet her family. 

“Make sure you aren’t doing anything the weekend before the holiday,” he tells her unravelling lights from her box of Christmas decorations. 

“How come?” she asks searching through the tv for the claymation movies she loves to watch.

“That’s when I’m going to give you my present.”

“You need a whole weekend to do that?” she laughs. 

“I won’t say anything more than that,” he smirks at her. 

“I can help with that--”

“I got it sorted,” he waves her off, “you enjoy your movies.”

“Have I told you you’re the most amazing boyfriend?” she wraps her arms around his waist. Ashton shifts the lights into one hand so he can hold her against him with his free hand. 

“You’ve never told me that,” he grins and kisses her. 

“I’m sure I have,” she mumbles between kisses. Her hands slip under his shirt, thumbs grazing over his warm skin causing Ashton to grunt at the contact.

His hand rubs up her back and into her hair, he breaks the kiss with a shaky breath. “Let me finish putting these lights up and we can get back to this, baby.”

“We could get to this faster if you let me help,” she stresses, pinching his skin. “You never let me do anything.”

“You do plenty, baby,” he smiles, kissing her forehead. 

She sighs and retreats to the couch curling up to watch the movie and Ashton wrap and weave the lights around her tree. Two and a half movies later he was finally finished and turned the lights on. The white light reflected on her wooden floor and she beamed at his job well done.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!” she throws her arms around his neck in a big hug. 

“My pleasure,” he chuckles and kisses her temple. She starts to give small kisses to his neck, featherlight and ticklish on his skin. “Get outta here, you know I’m ticklish.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” she teases continuing her small attack of affection. 

Ashton shifts her in his arms making his way to her couch and drops onto the cushions. She situated herself so she’s straddling his waist. His hands smooth over the curve of her ass while his lips suction kisses along her jaw and to her neck. She shivers at the contact, tugging at his curls when he sucks a mark.

“This is what I’m gonna do about it,” he says gruffly and rocks her against his hips. 

“Okay,” she sighs, enjoying his mouth on her neck and the bulge in his pants rubbing against her core with each rock he makes her do. She moans when his hands move to her thighs and gives her a squeeze. 

Needing more of him, she drags his head away from her neck so she can feel his lips on her own again. She rolls her hips against his without his help and his hands slip under her shirt, moaning when he feels she’s not wearing a bra. 

“Damn, baby,” he growls cupping her breasts together. He tweaks her nipples and she squeaks in his mouth. “You like that?”

“Feels good,” she nods nipping at his lip. His phone rings and buzzes in his pocket, the vibration adds another element to her arousal.

“Leave it, they can leave a message,” he pants, sucking another kiss from her. 

His phone stops ringing only for hers to start on the coffee table behind them. She breaks the kiss and turns around trying to see the caller ID.

“Leave it,” he repeats, squeezing her breasts again.

“It could be an emergency,” she reaches for her phone to see it’s Sarah calling. “Hello?” She picks it up staring at Ashton and he smirks, lifting her shirt up. He takes her nipple between his lips and she scowls at him. “Oh, that was tonight? Um, yeah he’s with me. We’ll be right over. Okay, yeah…” she sighs when his teeth tug on her nipple. “See you soon.”

She tosses the phone to the couch and tosses her head back relishing in his mouth on her sensitive bud for a moment longer. Their physical relationship is progressing slowly, they’ve almost had sex three times (now four if Sarah hadn’t called) but she likes the pace they’re going at. 

“We need to go to Andy and Sarah’s,” she strokes his cheek curling his hair around his ear.

“Why? I’d rather stay here,” he shifts his mouth to her other breast, his tongue rolling over her nipple salaciously. 

“Mm, me too but it’s their Christmas party tonight. And we’re late by two hours,” she snickers, fingers still tangled in his hair. She has goosebumps from what his mouth is doing to her.

“I’m sick, can’t go.”

“Ashton!” she laughs pushing his head away from her chest. “We won’t see them until after the holiday. Come on, let’s go.”

She crawls off him, turns her tv off and changes her top, and puts on a bra. When she comes back Ashton is still sitting on the couch. She leans over the back of it next to his head. 

“Do I have to drag you off this couch?” she murmurs in his ear.

“I need a few moments,” he huffs, shifting his legs. 

“Oh,” she giggles, seeing exactly why because he still has a prominent bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry. Can I help?” she kisses down his cheek to the corner of his mouth. 

“You helped make this problem,” he laughs, turning his head to kiss her lips. 

**

The Christmas party was a hit and it’s the weekend before Christmas. Y/N was awakened by Ashton petting her hair and kissing her cheek, he used the spare key she gave him for emergencies.

“What a way to wake up,” she smiles, pulling him on top of her. His strong arms are caged around her head and his body weight makes her feel protected. 

“Your coffee is all ready, now you just have to pack and we’ll be on our way.”

“No breakfast in bed?” She traces his eyebrows. 

“I can make you breakfast in bed tomorrow*,” he nuzzles his nose against hers. “There’s a present by your coffee mug if that will help you get  your cute ass outta bed.”

Then his weight is off her and she’s left scrambling out of bed to follow him into the kitchen where her coffee is already in her to-go mug with a card and a bouquet of red roses and cranberries inside to make it more of a holiday special. He’s standing next to the small gifts with a grin on his face. 

“I love these, they’re so pretty,” she gushes, lifting the bouquet to her nose. She loves the sweet smell of a rose. 

“You’re so pretty when I give you flowers,” he comments, lifting up the red envelope. 

She holds the flowers against her chest and unfolds the envelope. Inside is a white card with writing formed in the shape of a Christmas tree, a star placed on top. The words read:

“TO A 

KIND

STRONG

BRILLIANT

SO BEAUTIFUL

AND TRULY AMAZING

GIRLFRIEND”

Ashton wrote his own inscription inside in his nice loopy script:

‘The past year with you has been one of the best of my life. Our friendship was the perfect foundation for a relationship and I can’t imagine what my world would be like now if you weren’t in it. So this weekend, it will just be me and you in our own little cabin, no interruptions. xx Ash’

“A cabin?”

**

After the 2 hour and 40 minute flight to Seattle, she and Ashton arrived at the cabin where a dusting of snow covered the ground and a wreath was on the door. Y/N was floored at how beautiful it was and Ashton took her hand leading her up the wooden steps. He took a key out and unlocked the door. 

It smelled like cinnamon and Ashton with cozy couches and armchairs, a large rug in front of a stone fireplace and a massive kitchen with a grill attached to a chimney. A Christmas tree was set up with presents scattered underneath and there was a large bouquet of roses on the kitchen table. 

“Ash…” she begins and then can’t find more words. 

“There’s more, c’mon,” he smiles, leading her up the winding staircase and into a loft area where a futon was and empty bookshelves. There were a few guitars on stands placed in the corner and some incense sticks. “What do you think?” He leans against the railing and Y/N ventures into the room.

“I think it’s wonderful, but there aren’t any books. Is this someone’s cabin and you’re renting it? I can chip in--”

“No, no. It is someone’s cabin...mine.”

She whips around from looking out the half circle window overlooking the backyard where she saw another grill and some chairs. 

“This place is yours?”

“Yep. I come here when I need to get away and just let my creative ideas flow. You can fill the bookshelves if you’d like.”

“Ash this is…” she shakes her head then launches herself into his arms for a hug. “This is incredible. And we’re here the whole weekend? Just us?”

“Just us, angel,” he nods, rubbing at her back. “There’s also a hot tub.”

His voice changed at the mention of the hot tub because she didn’t bring a suit. 

***

Ashton’s plan for Friday evening was to unpack and go into town for a nice meal. After dinner, they changed into their sleep clothes and snuggled on the couch with hot chocolate watching the first Home Alone movie because they’re her favorite movies. Her mind was on that hot tub and her stomach twisted with excited nerves at the thought of using it. She wanted to use it now but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth each time she tried to bring it up. 

She was also thinking of how this would be their first time sleeping together. Ashton never stayed the night because he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. She found it sweet but it also increased her infatuation for him even more.

When she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, he had her lean on him while they walked to the bedroom. The bed was huge with a large comforter and even fluffier looking pillows. It looked heavenly and she slipped inside willingly. She rolled over and became awake again at the look on Ashton’s face. 

She tossed over the blanket on his side of the bed and patted the space below the pillow inviting him in. He crawled in carefully and shut the lights off and they were in darkness. Ashton remained sitting against the headboard and Y/N reached out for him in the dark. His forearm was warm and soft.

“Are you going to sleep like that the whole night?” she whispers, giving his arm a squeeze.

“No,” he whispers back, sliding further down the bed. Her hand now rested on his chest, she could feel his heart beating. He turns on his side clutching her hand in his. “Is it weird I’m nervous? I feel like I’m fifteen.”

“You first slept with a girl at fifteen?” she laughs.

“No, I meant--being around girls at that age made me nervous,” he chuckles. 

“I’m nervous, too. But in a good way. Just warning you, I’m a kicker so I apologize in advance.”

“Why are we still whispering, we’re the only ones here,” he says, raising his voice to a normal level. That only makes her giggle more. 

“I don’t know, it fits the mood with you regressing back to fifteen years old. Our parents could walk in at any moment.” She scoots closer to him, so close that she can feel his breath fan on her face. 

“I hope they don’t,” he murmurs, inching closer in the dark until he finds her lips. It’s a tender kiss, the kind of kiss that took her breath away slowly and made her heart smile. 

She keeps him close with her hand pressed to his cheek. They kiss and talk in hushed tones until she falls asleep and Ashton tickles up her back until sleep finally finds him, too.

Saturday morning did indeed include breakfast in bed. Ashton made pancakes, bacon, coffee and a small bowl of fruit. His itinerary for the day consisted of lounging around the cabin watching holiday movies and then he was going to make her a steak dinner. She insisted on helping him in the kitchen amidst his protests.

“I’m not a good cook but I’m a very good listener. I’m your sous chef.”

“What does ‘sous chef 'even mean?” he asks getting the ingredients out of the fridge. 

“It means ‘under.’”

“Ah, so you’re under me, huh?” he winks. 

“Let me help you cook and I just might be,” she challenged with a smile. Ashton shakes his head, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. 

She followed his instructions with the garlic and mashed potatoes. The dinner was exquisite paired with a delicious white wine. They each had a full glass, their bellies full and face warm from the wine, they were extra giggly and extra flirty. 

“How about that hot tub?” he asks, circling the rim of the wine glass with his finger.

“Did you pack a suit?” She raises her eyebrows. 

 “Nope.”

“I didn’t pack a suit either,” she points to her chest.

“Must have slipped my mind,” he gulps the last swallow of his wine, eyes on her.

“What a shame.”

He sets his glass on the table and takes her hands in his, his eyes looking almost apologetic. “You can wear a t-shirt and shorts. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He kisses both of her hands. 

“Go get the water ready.”

Twenty minutes later, she walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and Ashton is already in the water. His arms are resting on the sides of the tub, his face even redder from the steam, his eyes hold hers steadily. 

The confidence she had in the bathroom is gone. She wanted to come out here and just get in the water completely naked, but now she’s nervous because what if she was reading the signs wrong? What if he doesn’t really want to have sex with her?

“Um, can you close your eyes while I get in?” she asks.

“‘Course,” he closes his eyes.

She takes a deep breath dropping the towel. The air kisses her skin and she climbs up the steps carefully. The water is hot as she descends into the tub, she bends down so only her head is exposed above the water. Ashton remains still and she inches closer to him until their knees touch.

“Hi there,” he smiles softly.

“Hi.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

First she nods then realizes he can’t see her so she clears her throat. “Yes.”

He opens his eyes slowly, and they look so pretty in the nighttime sky. He’s looking at her like he’s staring into the full face of the moon, his eyes are full of wonder and adoration and her confidence starts to rise within her. 

The longer he looks at her, the more bold she becomes and she rises up from the water. Her breasts are completely exposed. Ashton licks his lips, his eyes lowering over her wet chest. She doesn’t want to break the spell that’s cast between them so she moves towards him slowly, her hands rest on his shoulders. His arms remain on the sides of the tub. 

“Ashton.”

“Yeah?” 

“Touch me.”

In a flash, his lips are on hers and she’s pressed to his chest. His large hands cover her back, one dips over her ass and she gasps when she feels his hard-on against her thigh. He lifts her effortlessly in the water so she’s straddling him. 

Instinctively, she rubs herself against him groaning at how he rubs against her most sensitive area perfectly. 

“Need you,” she whispers against his mouth.

“Bed,” he gasps.

They exit the tub excitedly, drying off as quickly as they can and she presses herself against him in front of the bed. Their bodies are warm from the tub and he lifts her in his arms again. She loves feeling his muscles wrapped taut around her, he knees onto the bed and stays there. Their arms are wrapped around each other and they remain kissing.

“Do you have something?” she asks, pulling away to catch her breath. She twists his chest hair in her fingers.

“Um, yeah. Shit, hang on,” he sighs, slipping her back onto the bed. She watches him appreciatively as he skimpers to the kitchen pulling his coat off the hook.

“You have a really nice butt,” she compliments when he returns with a condom in hand. 

“Thanks, babe,” he laughs then stops at the foot of the bed staring at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks suddenly self-conscious. 

“Nothing. You’re perfect.”

She smiles and pulls him on the bed with her again, connecting their lips. He rips open the condom and rolls it on his length. He kneels on the bed again and she’s quick to climb on top, moaning at his shaft rubbing between her folds. 

“Such a pretty moan,” he praises, grasping his cock in his hand. He teases her hole with his tip, nudging it inside a few times. Her lower body meets his in a desperate way, small gasps coming from her each inch he goes in deeper.

“Please, Ash...want all of you,” she knocks her forehead against his.

He takes a deep breath and pushes all the way in, his eyes watching her as her mouth opens and her eyes close at being filled. Their bodies tremble together and they remain still, experiencing being connected for the first time. 

“Good?” he asks, rubbing her nose affectionately.

“Mhm,” she nods and starts to roll her hips against him. “Ohhh…” she lets out a shuddering breath.

He follows her rhythm easily, arms wrapped around her, enjoying the way she rides on top of him. He kneads her ass as she moves, her breath picking up and when he can’t take it anymore, he rises on his knees, her legs fall on either side of him and she gasps. 

He rests her on her back gently, resting his chest against hers so that they’re still touching and rocks his hips in even thrusts. He slips his tongue in her mouth just as her legs wrap around his waist. She moans when he picks up the pace, her lower half meeting his thrusts perfectly. 

“Are you close baby?” he pants feeling her walls start to flutter around him. “So good for me...so perfect...taking me so well.”

“Don’t stop,” she moans tilting her head back. Ashton pounds into her faster, each time he thrusts in she clenches around him a bit more tightly. 

“Fuck…” he hisses when she clenches and stays that way. Her moans are loud in his ear and he always wants to be the one that makes her sound like that. He can’t hold his climax off with her sounding like that and he’s coming with her. “I love you,” he groans loudly in her neck.

When they recollect their breathing she holds his face in her hands.

“What did you say?” she gasps out, eyes wide with lust and surprise.

“I love you,” he breathes, stroking her temple with his thumb. “You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted to tell you that this weekend, too. It’s hard for me to say out loud and with just us--”

She kisses him fiercely. 

“I love you, too.”

Four

When she went to work there was a flower arrangement at her desk with a note from Ashton wishing her a great last day before her vacation for her birthday and his birthday. Hers was the day before his and everyone wanted them to do a joint party when they found that out. 

“No, that’s weird,” she scrunched her nose at the suggestion.

“Yeah, we aren’t siblings. That’s gross,” he agreed.

She took the week off for their birthdays so they could maybe go to the cabin or even rent a house on the beach. She loved her birthday but whenever she made plans, they always fell through or people never showed up.

She texted him that the flowers were beautiful and she couldn’t wait to spend the day with him the next day. When she got home, he was already there wearing an all black outfit with his shirt open. He knows how much she likes seeing his chest. 

“Thank you for the flowers,” she holds up the vase of pink peonies showcasing them. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Kiss me first,” he puckers his lips at her.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggles and steps on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. They always kiss each other hello. 

“Now, go get changed. We’ve got plans,” he grins.

“What kind of plans?” 

“Look on your bed and see,” he nods to her room down the hall. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.”

She shakes her head and does what he says. On her bed is a dress she always ogled when they were at the mall, Ashton clearly bought it for her. He spoils her too much. Next to the dress is a black satin blindfold. She narrows her eyes at the blindfold but quickly changes into the dress.

“What is this for?” she asks, stepping out into the living room with the blindfold in her hands.

“For your eyes. Turn around.”

“Are we roleplaying?” she asks, turning her back to him.

“No,” he laughs, placing the fabric over her eyes. 

He helps her walk to his car and she’s asking him so many questions. He refuses to answer them and laughs at her outlandish predictions of taking her away to a private island. 

His hand is firm in hers when they’re walking to wherever they’re going. She stumbles a little because she doesn’t know the terrain but it feels like pavement under her feet. 

“Are we there yet?” she asks.

“Almost. Okay, there’s a few steps. Up, up, up, up, and last one. Good. Okay, I’m going to take it off you now.”

She feels him move behind her. He unties the blindfold slowly and it drops from her eyes. She blinks slowly to get used to the light and is met with all of their friends and family before her. There’s flower arches behind them and they’re all wearing flower crowns on their heads. 

“SURPRISE!” They shout and she gasps when they start to sing Happy Birthday.

Sarah wheels in a cake with flowers sprawled over it and her name in the middle. Y/N grasps Ashton’s hand in her own, tears forming in her eyes. His other arm wraps around her waist, his chin rests on her shoulder as he sings softly in her ear.

“...dear Y/N...Happy Birthday to you…”

She wipes at her eyes overcome with emotion from the surprise and that Ashton went through all this trouble.

“Make a wish, angel,” he murmurs in her ear.

She closes her eyes, thinks of a wish, and blows out the candles. Everyone cheers and she twists around to give Ashton a big kiss. There’s even more cheers for that and then she’s whisked away for hellos and hugs. Flowers are hanging from the ceiling like vines and she’s never been surrounded by so many flowers. 

“Were you surprised?” Sarah asks as a waiter starts to cut the cake.

“Totally surprised. But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” she gives Ashton a side eye.

“You told me you wanted to spend it with me, so your party with everyone else is today,” he smiles. 

“And all these flowers? I love it all so much, thank you.”

“Your eyes will have that shine all night,” he grins, kissing her nose. 

One

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Ashton laughs behind her as they trek through the woods by the cabin.

After her surprise party, on her actual birthday they spent the first half watching movies and the second swimming at the beach. They had a late flight to go to the cabin. Upon arrival, Ashton spent the last hour of her birthday pleasuring her with his mouth and fingers. When the clock struck midnight, she flipped him over with a smirk.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she whispered and slid down his body so she could please him. 

She loves hearing his moans just as much as he loves hearing hers. She loves how one hand is fisted in her hair and the other rests behind his head watching her go down on him. 

“Yes, I know where I’m going. Come on birthday boy.” She ducks under a branch then sees the clearing ahead. 

“I’m twenty-seven, I’m not a boy,” he grunts.

“Sorry, old man,” she teases and he smacks her ass playfully. 

When they come into the clearing, there’s a red and white checkered blanket in the grass with a large basket in the center. Wildflowers surround it in purples, yellows, oranges and a few reds. It’s a magical place. 

“Did you do all this?” he asks seeing the set up. 

“I did. Come on, there’s more.”

They kick off their shoes and sit on the blanket. She opens the basket taking out his favorite foods and a wrapped gift. 

“I told you, you don’t have to get me anything,” he sighs while taking the gift. “You’re more than enough.”

“I know, but it’s part of my love language. And it’s homemade anyway,” she shrugs. “Open it up.”

He unwraps the corners before tearing the paper all the way off. He stares at it in his hands for a long time. She made him a shadow box frame with a picture of them when they were at the beach during sunset. It was their favorite picture and surrounding it were dried flowers. 

“Do you know what these are?” she asks, pointing to the flowers.

“Flowers?” he chuckles touching the glass. 

“This one is from the first flowers you brought me when you helped me move in, these are from our first date, this is from Christmas and the small cranberry. These are from work and my birthday, and these are from Valentine’s Day. These are all the flowers you’ve given me,” she smiles and he looks at her stunned.

“You kept them all?”

“You’re the only one who ever bought me flowers and I loved them all so now you have them, too.”

“This is incredible, I love it. Thank you,” he reaches over to give her a kiss. 

“Wait, there’s more,” she grins and reaches into the basket again. She pulls out live flowers arranged in a pretty bouquet. “These are for you.”

“Baby,” he stressed in astonishment and set the picture frame next to him. 

He pushes her back on the blanket kissing her with all he’s got. The flowers get crushed and some stick in her hair but they’re surrounded by love and the sweet smell of flowers and kiss with passion.

“Happy Birthday my love,” she gazes up at him and sticks a flower behind his ear.

Taglist: @calumance​  @in-superbloom​ @calpalirwin​ @karajaynetoday​ @wiiildflowerrr-blog1​ @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @hoodhoran​ @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @sunshineeashton​ @ashtonsunflower​​ @mymindwide​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @seanna313​ @fivesecondsofonedirection​

#ashton irwin oneshot #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #ashton fluff #ashton oneshot #ashton 5sos writing #5sos writing

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone  

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary:  A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

 Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up.  The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8 

 “Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none. 

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in. 

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

 “ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

 “I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first.  Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

 “What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars. 

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!” 

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could. 

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him. 

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear. 

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine. 

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger.  Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen  hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned. 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind. 

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia. 

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw. 

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her.  Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips.  “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.  “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World.  And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked. 

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #jake jensen fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

[anaiswriterr]

last christmas

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Rating: T

Last Christmas by Wham!

↷ SYNOPSIS: Five fucking years of a relationship down the drain when Shoto decided to call it quits, leaving you colder than the ice he produced. Last Christmas left you underneath the mistletoe with a bottle of eggnog staring off into space as others partied with their significant others for Christmas. But what happens when next Christmas you no longer are as cold as ice and is under the arm of another pro hero? Can Shoto get you back?

- mha december special part three -

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It’s the silence between the two of you that tells you, it’s truly over.

The relationship has finally crumbled into nothing but empty promises, and lost memories that’ll never be saved.

“So that’s it, five years and we’re done?” You mumble, biting back your bottom lip stopping it from quivering. His response is just a simple nod, his hands pressed hard into the back pockets of his jeans. You search his eyes, for something that tells you to fight back. But his mumbled, “I’m sorry.” Is all it takes for you to flush down the speech you have mentally prepared and wave the white flag in defeat. You shrug, looking back into the hallways where the agency holiday party took place. Could this really not wait at home?

“Is there anything I could do to change your mind, Sho?”

You blink back away the tears that desperately want to fall, refusing to cry in front of your coworkers, the corner the both of you were in grew hot. Your sweater feels tight around your neck, you watch as Shoto shrugs his shoulders. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.. but work is getting dangerous. We have different perspectives of life-“

“You think I didn’t know I was dating a hero?” You seethe taking small sips of your beverage, eyeing his apologetic figure, bullshit, his hands stuffed deep into his back pockets and his duo colored hair frame his face. You want to scream and shout out him, but arguing at a Christmas party was something you didn’t find much interest in right about now. It wouldn’t fix anything - it would only cause a scene. You shrug, “Fine, if that’s what you want. I’ll stay the night at Uraraka and Deku’s, I’ll be back for my stuff in the morning.” Taking in a heavy sip of alcohol from your red solo cup, watching Shoto nod.

“I’m really sorry-“

“Don’t.” You place your hand on his chest, stopping his movement from moving towards you. You didn’t want a hug or kiss goodbye, “I’m gonna go enjoy the rest of my night, you, can go home and pack my bags.” You pat his chest looking up from your teary eyelashes that clumped together. It just had to be this night, of all places, of all times.

Getting dumped the day before Christmas sure was a way to enter the New Year. Well, you shrug, downing the last of your alcoholic beverage in search for the brunette. “There’s a first for everything.”

And well... you guess this would be the story of how you got your heartbroken on Christmas Eve.

***

Last Christmas, you were left colder than ice. Your five year relationship frozen in time as you searched for apartments near the area. Close enough to work and far away from Shoto - he offered to stay at a hotel, even to leave himself. But you didn’t want anything from him, you wanted no lingering scents of the duel quirk user.

Who even breaks up with someone the night before Christmas!?

Irritated with life you settled down in a small cute apartment, washing your clothes to fade his warm scent of cinnamon mixed with the cool base of mint, mixing detergent and softener to mask his presence. Adopted a rescue dog to make the apartment seem more livelier - despite the scattered tissues and running mascara you were fine.

Just fine.

You look around your bedroom, snuggling beside your dog, Pebbles, sighing in irritation and wiping away the eye boogers that sat on the inner corners of your eyelids. Tapping your face awake and staring at the empty bottle of wine beside you resting on your nightstand. “I’m just... fine.”

Crying.

Sadness. Completely normal emotions and feelings to stumble upon after a break up - considering the two of you have been together for quiet sometime it took you awhile to get used to sleeping alone. Although, Pebbles did accompany you into bed to spare warmth it still hurt reaching out to nothing but either fur or air. Repeating the same routine everyday for months, avoiding all hero news, and simply just grabbing your favorite cup of coffee and heading off to work.

A cycle that grew all too quite robotic quickly.

That is, until you met Samonri Kayeta.

A senior executive advisor for the technical company you worked for to help support heroes. You had bumped into him in the break room while your poured yourself another cup of coffee. His presence startling you and causing you to spill your Styrofoam cup onto your hand and all over the marble corner tops.

Apologizing profusely for the scare he handed you a paper towel immediately, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Kayeta apologized, pulling your hand forward dabbing away at the burn and gently ushering you to the sink. Running your palm under the cold water, he treats the burn. 

This moment was only the beginning of the romantic relationship the both of you jumped into after only two months of dating. His apologies still remained when you bring up the first time the both of you met one another. Laughing his worries away. 

Samonri wasn’t a hero.

In fact, he was actually born quirkless just like you. 

And you were thankful for that fact, the hero life was just no longer a thing you planned to engage in. Seeing as your prior hero relationship didn’t end so well. Samonri wasn’t ever in the face of danger, he had no reason to protect you. So therefore excuses of a plausible breakup if things got bad never worried you. Between the both of you - nothing ever truly went bad. Of course couples argue, but the two of you never truly thought about breaking up.

And suddenly your cold heart, once frozen in time, thawed out from the warmth you found in another man.

***

Next Christmas, came faster then any other. An invitation to celebrate the engagement of both Izuku and Ochako to one another was received. The velvet invitation in your hand felt smooth as you handed it to Samonri - a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, he nods. “Yeah, let’s go.” He urged.

It was a night event, semi formal and semi casual.

You held hands dearly with Samonri as you entered the hall, when a pair of eyes trail your frame. You can feel his heat from all the way across the hall, his freezing temperatures dueling with his molting heat. Todoroki, the new number three hero is staring daggers into the brown haired mans back. Your eyes meet his duel colored ones, it’s been months since you’ve stared back into those eyes. 

“Are you okay, darling?” 

You turn to face Samonri, ignoring the eyes on your back. His grip on your hand tightens lovingly, “Y-Yeah, of course.” You say breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you haven’t spoken to Todoroki since the day you finally moved out - were the two of you even on first name basis? He stood in a corner besides Ilda and Momo, he looks different. Much more serious, a lot more bruises and scars. You weren’t there to treat his wounds no more, but you were thankful, you never had to go frantically search for the first aid kit every other night - not anymore at least. You walk over to Izuku, who is standing with Bakugou and Kirishima near the bar toasting to the engagement. 

You greet them normally, congratulating the two. 

Your shoulders ease when the boring eyes finally peel off your back sending cool goosebumps up your skin ending at the base of your neck. Samonri is already long gone, lounging with Denki and Sero at the bar sipping on a couple drinks with his dress coat resting behind him. Meanwhile you found yourself wandering towards to the group of girls who celebrated in delight. 

Uraraka’s smile growing larger with each passing second. 

Your feet hurt from all the walking and dancing, laughing as Samonri twirled you one last time. “You think we should head back home? It’s getting late,” He says running his fingers through his dark wavy hair, pulling at his roots. 

“Wanna wait in the car for a while, I’m just going to say good bye to everybody.” 

He nods, pressing a chaste kiss onto your forehead before digging into his jean pocket and pulling out his car keys; “I’ll wait for you.” His hand moves away from the small of your back as you watch him leave through the front door of the venue and into the hall where the elevator was. 

“I should probably leave, Samonri and I have work in the morning; I love you both! Congratulations!” You hug the happy couple, walking off to bid goodbye to the others. Leaving the venue and into the elevator, you press the down button. Awaiting for the elevator to arrive to your level you didn’t even realize the sound of the party room door opening and slamming shut. The small ding pulls you out of your thoughts, the sliding doors open and you step in, pressing the first floor button watching as the doors close. 

“Wait- Y/N!” 

The elevator door opens wide as Todoroki squeezes himself in, he leans down to catch his breath. With your hand over you hand from the startle you blink in surprise. You cross your arms over your chest, turning your head away. “What do you want, Todoroki.”

“Y-you... didn’t say... hello..”

“You ran all this way - because I didn’t say hello?”

The door closes shut, and the elevator begins to descend down the floors. Changing numbers from six to three, Shoto reaches out for the emergency stop button. Pressing hard against its flat red surface, a small buzz goes off. Ringing in your ears you nearly had enough, “Todoroki! What are you doing?”

Your back is slammed into the wall, two arms charge in your body like a flightless bird. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are teary, you’ve never seen him in such distress. Your body presses hard onto the cold flat surface behind you and his warm breath reddens your neck. He is mumbling to himself, quietly, you barley catch a glimpse of it. “Todoroki..” he says. Your heart is pounding, drumming away at your rib cage it’s been months since you’ve seen him up and close. “That’s not my name..” he sighs, you arch a brow questioning his out of character behavior. “What are you saying-“

“It’s not my name.. you call me Shoto.. Sho-“

“That was then.”

“So it just means nothing to you?”

“You left me.”

It goes silent. His eyes search into yours, reaching out to the woman he remembers. You grow irritated. Annoyed by the situation wishing the elevator door would’ve just closed a little quicker, he left you. Not the other way around, “Remember, Shoto, you left me the day before Christmas.. what do you want from me?” The words finally set in, he looks up at you. Confused and enraged you push him away, “Don’t you remember? And you ran all this way for a hello?! What kinda bullshit- how stupid do you think I am!?” You argue, walking towards the buttons.

“What do you want from me, mister pro hero.”

He sighs, blocking your way from the buttons, stopping you in your tracks. “Does he make you happy?”

You blow a raspberry at him, “Yes, of course he does- now if you’ll excuse me he’s waiting for me in the parking lot-“

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He huffs, pushing your hand away from the buttons. You squint your eyes in annoyance, “Oh please you’ve had plenty of times to talk to me, a simple hello or how are you would’ve been nice.” You lean back to cross your arms over your chest ignoring his longing gaze.

“Please,” he whispers, staring down onto the ground.

You sigh once more in defeat know he wouldn’t move, he was like that. He was serious about this, and when he’s serious there was no way he’d back down from it. Tilting your head, you allow him to get in his last words. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too late?” 

“Everything I did was always too late.. when I said I loved you, when I asked you out after two years of being friends - god I should’ve asked the moment I met you; or when I left you because I couldn’t handle the fact somebody, no, someone like you could ever love me the way you did. It was so much.” 

He pushes away from the buttons and walks towards you slowly, backing you up into the wall. Your chest grows heavy at his words peering into his eyes that were hooded by his bangs. 

“I don’t know why I’m here.. but I just couldn’t let you go without tell you, I’m sorry.. I love you.. and to please just come home.”

Home.. 

The apartment you and Shoto bought right after the two of you graduated High School; he was already interning to become a hero and you were just starting college. With only one flower pot to decorate, three picture frames and mattress. The two of you ate dinner on top of the kitchen counter laughing at the most idiotic things you could come up with. The one you spent five years in, cleaning his wounds, holding him after the hard days, settling him in warm baths to ease his tense muscles.

Home was the place the two of you discussed about a family. 

Until last Christmas.. when he left you.

He presses the button on last time, allowing the elevator to continue its transit to the first floor. Look up to face you, you can finally see him clearly. His eyes, his face you once stared into lovingly. 

You still loved him. 

The elevator dings, opening up its metal doors yet you stand still for a while. He’s whispering, begging for you to stay, to not leave. 

But the past can not effect your decision that Shoto Todoroki..

“I’m sorry, Todoroki. I wish you well.” You step out, clutching hard onto your purse. Refusing to look back at his defeated body, his expression would merely kill you. Leaving the venue in a hurry searching for Samonri. 

His car is parked just around the corner, his tall frame smiles at you with his arms crossed leaning on the trunk; he waves you over. You speed walk towards him, “Hey babe,” he places a small kiss onto your forehead tenderly, noticing your face of sadness he cups your cheeks, “What’s wrong?” 

was indeed your past.

You shake your head of the thoughts of the pro hero you once cleaned up in the dead of nights away; focusing on your now. His gentle features, his intentions clear as day. For so long you choked on smoke and ice.. smiling at him. 

Goodbye, Sho..

“Nothing.. lets go home.”

TAGLIST:  @meep-meep​ @hikaru-mikazuki​ @jabkie​ @simpingovereveryanimeguy​ @theycallmemrsbarnes​ @bittersweetbooke​​ @meri-soni-meri-tamanna​​ @myheroesaretired​ @fandomtrashbitch​ @chocbaleine​

Authors note: Who said this would be a cute fluff fic? I did, which obviously didn’t work out. Why? Because it just wasn’t realistic and wouldn’t make sense to just magically make the reader forgive him and leave someone who is perfectly capable of being with the reader seeing as he helped pick up the broken pieces left behind. Anyways. Honestly. I’m fucking tired, I’m sorry it took so long to get this out. Should of been out like a week ago, but so much has happened and I’ve been just all over the place, I have Winter blues and it’s hard to get through this. I just got a job too, it feels like I have no right to feel this way. People have it so much worse, but everyday I just really hate it here. I got all A’s, amazing friends and it’s like fuck people don’t even have what I have so it feels wrong for me to feel this way. But ig it is what it is. Sorry guys, updates soon.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #bnha fluff #mha fluff #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha angst #mha angst #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha shoto #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha shouto #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto x y/n #shouto x reader #todorki shouto #mha shouto #shouto fluff #shoto fluff #shoto x reader angst #shoto x reader fluff #shouto x reader angst #my hero academia

[eyayah-oya]

A Bit of Hope to Keep You Safe

Clone Ship Week | Day 7 | Armor - @cloneshipweek

Bacara/Rex

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Ao3 link

           Rex walked through camp with two cups of caf in his hand, looking for Commander Bacara.  They had time to relax before the next big push of the campaign, and Rex wanted to spend at least a few minutes with Bacara before they had to be a Captain and a Commander again.  It was so rare that they even got to see each other, let alone outside of a professional setting, that Rex was willing to take whatever they could scrounge together.

           Eventually, he found his way to the edge of the camp, overlooking a vast violet sea.  The boulders of ancient ruins littered the ground, and Rex found Bacara leaning back against the boulder on the seaward side.  Rex kicked a pebble to let the Commander know that he was there, and Bacara looked up.

           For the first time in a long time, Rex got a good look at his boyfriend.  Bacara looked exhausted.  The eyes that held so much warmth during ARC training now were shattered with grief and the burden of forever remaining strong for his men.  Bacara was the bulwark holding back the tide of the entire Separatist army from his men and the rest of the Republic.  When Bacara realized it was just Rex, the line of his shoulders slumped just slightly, and the man behind The Marine peaked through the cracks in his armor.

           “Rex,” Bacara breathed.

           With a small smile, Rex sat down next to Bacara and handed him one of the cups of caf.  “How are you?"

           "I’m holding up, tat’ka,” Bacara said.  He took a long sip of the caf and wrinkled his nose adorably much to Rex’s delight.  “Did you put any sugar in this?”

           “I gave you the allotment of sugar, same as every other damn cup of caf in the Republic,” Rex said, holding back a snicker.

           Bacara hummed and drained the caf as fast as he could before setting his cup down on the ground next to him.  With a languid stretch, Bacara leaned his head back against the boulder and closed his eyes, drinking in the rays of the sun.  His skin was paler than other brothers, a testament to how rarely he took his bucket off.  Rex scooted a bit closer to Bacara and pressed against his shoulder. A shudder ran through his body before Bacara leaned into the touch.

           Rex wanted to weep at how touch-starved and lonely he was. How many nights did Bacara spend alone while his men sought comfort amongst themselves?  How many times did he stand guard while the Marines shook apart and put themselves back together just to fight and die in another battle on a planet the Republic had all but forgotten?  There was not a single clone ever created that did well with being isolated. From the time they were decanted, they spent every second of their day with brothers.  But the Marines were isolated and Bacara even more so.

           There were few things in life that Rex wanted more in that moment, than to take Bacara and his men far away from the war and keep them safe and loved.  He wanted to hold Bacara every night, and tell him how loved he was until he stopped flinching at every touch.  Rex wanted to have the freedom to be there for Bacara since he refused to allow anyone else close enough to take care of The Marine.

           In the middle of a galactic-wide war, however, there wasn’t much Rex could do for any of those desires.  He could care for Bacara for however long this campaign lasted, and then they’d be separated once again with little to no contact.

           As Rex ran his fingers over the gouges in his thigh plate from an exploding tank, an idea struck him.

           “Bacara—” Rex began, then stopped.  How did someone even ask something like this?  Maybe he should have paid more attention to Kix and Jesse’s courtship.

           “Hmm?”

           For several seconds, Rex tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say.  There were just so many different ways it could be taken, and Rex wasn’t even sure if the Marines were isolated enough from their brothers that this custom hadn’t reached them yet.  Giving a piece of himself to a brother, especially one from a different battalion, had certain meanings.  Rex fell in love quickly and loved deeply.  Bacara loved just as deeply, but he was also slower to trust and slower to love. It felt awful to even think it, but Rex really wasn’t sure how his suggestion would be taken.

           “Rex, whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fine,” Bacara sighed.  “Talk to me, tat’ka.”

           With a deep breath, Rex undid the clasps of his left vambrace, the only piece of his armor that he thought might be able to fit Bacara. Without a word, he turned and offered the piece of armor to his boyfriend and held his breath.

           Bacara didn’t say anything.  He stared at the vambrace, face carefully blank, and Rex was terrified that he’d pushed too hard too soon.  The shattered look in his warm brown eyes seemed to clear, some of the cracks healing, just a little bit.  They were silent, only the distant waves crashing against the base of the cliff and the calls of local seabirds could be heard.  Not even the camp was close enough to hear the everyday chatter of soldiers reconnecting.  After a minute, just long enough for Rex to get anxious, Bacara reached out and took his vambrace, his fingers trembling slightly.

           Rex let out his breath in relief.  Bacara understood what Rex hadn’t managed to find the words to express what was in his heart.  This was important, for both of them.  Vod’e traded pieces of armor with only their closest brothers.  It was a promise to return.  A promise that they had someone watching their back.  A promise to always be there for them. Some, like Echo and Fives, it was a gift between siblings.  Fives still cherished the piece of armor Echo had given him before the disastrous mission to the Citadel.  Others, like Jesse and Kix, treated it as a courting gift.  In either situation, the two who shared armor formed a connection that was unbreakable.

           “Rex—” Bacara whispered, his voice rough and broken. “Rex, are you sure—”

           But he refused to let Bacara finish that sentence.  Rex surged forward and pulled his wonderful, kind, gentle boyfriend into a deep and passionate kiss, though he kept every movement gentle and loving.  Everything he felt for Bacara was poured from his heart and into the kiss.  Every time Rex only managed to keep going because he knew he needed to come back to Bacara.  Every time he thought about his boyfriend fighting alone on far-off planets, surrounded by enemies.  He gave Bacara everything, his whole soul.  And Bacara welcomed every touch, every lick, every bite with the desperation of a man dying of loneliness.  A man dying for the love of his cyare.

           Bacara eventually took control of the kiss, pulling Rex into his lap and cradling his face in his large, warm palms.  The callouses scratched over his skin, sending tingles down his spine and curling his toes in his boots.  Rex sighed into the kiss.  He wrapped his arms around Bacara’s shoulders and let him find what he needed with every shared breath and every suck and nip.  Rex could only hold tight and refuse to let go.

           Since the first time they kissed, Rex had always fallen apart when Bacara kissed him.  There was a depth and a passion, building up heat until Rex was panting and hazy-eyed in his arms.  With every kiss, Bacara told Rex how much he loved him.  How much he meant to Bacara.  How desperately he needed Rex.  And this time was no different.

           Rex had no idea how long they’d spent trading kisses with him straddling his boyfriend’s lap, caf cups and vambrace left forgotten in the dirt next to them.  When they finally broke apart to simply rest their foreheads against each other, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, turning the pink sky a gorgeous red and purple.

           “Rex?” Bacara murmured.

           “Hmm?”  He couldn’t gather up the scattered cells of his brain to come up with a more intelligent response than that.

           “You really want to exchange armor?”

           Rex idly slipped his fingers into Bacara’s curls, playing with the longer hair on top and scratching through his beard.  “Of course, Cara.  I love you.  I can’t do much to be there for you while we’re still fighting this war, but I can promise to always come back.  It’s not much—”

           “No, it’s perfect,” Bacara interrupted.  “I would love to exchange armor with you.”

           “Good.  I’m really glad.”  Rex nudged Bacara’s nose while his hand scrabbled to find his forgotten vambrace.

           Bacara huffed, amused, and grabbed the vambrace from where it had fallen on the opposite side of where Rex was searching.  “Is this what you were looking for, tat’ka?”

           Rex gave his best Tubie scowl he could, the one that never failed to make Ponds melt into a puddle, and nuzzled Bacara’s face.  “Not my fault you hid it,” he grumbled.

           “Of course.  It’s perfectly reasonable to start losing your mind when dealing with the Jedi.  No one would blame you for forgetting the little things.”

           “I can and will bite you,” Rex threatened.

           Of course, that had a slightly different effect on Bacara than Rex had been expecting.  His dark eyes turned black with desire, and he leaned forward to leave a sharp bite on Rex’s swollen bottom lip.  Rex gasped and his heart skipped several beats.

           “Cara,” he gasped.  “That’s not playing fair.”

           “Who said anything about fair?”  Bacara ran his hand along Rex’s arm, until he reached the empty space that his vambrace normally occupied.  “Can’t have you going into battle without a full set of armor.  That would be unprofessional.”

           “Yeah?  Are you going to do anything about it?”

           Bacara hummed in response.  With deft fingers, he quickly undid the clasps of his own left vambrace and pushed Rex back far enough that he could easily access both of their arms.  They were all clones, so the vambraces looked to be the same size.  It wasn’t cost-efficient, after all, to provide custom sizes of armor for the entire GAR.  But the padding inside might be different for Bacara and Rex, since the Commander was built a bit bigger than Rex.

           “Rex of Torrent,” Bacara started, his voice rumbling thick and low.  “I give you my armor with the promise that I will always watch your back.  I will always support you in everything you do. I will always love you.  And I swear I will return to you as best as I can. Do you accept?”

           Blinking away sudden tears, Rex leaned forward and captured Bacara’s lips in a soft kiss.  “I accept your armor and your promise.  Bacara of Nova, I give you my armor with the promise that I will stand by your side.  I will treat your men as my own, and I will support Nova in every way I can.  I will be your rock and your anchor.  I will love you as long as I have breath and I will always do my best to return to you.  Do you accept my armor and my promise?”

           “Yes,” Bacara breathed.  He shuddered and gripped Rex’s bare arm as tight as he dared. Rex wrapped his other arm around him and brought their foreheads together again, their lips brushing with every breath.  He held Bacara until he was steady once again.

           “Can I put my vambrace on you?” Rex asked once the shudders had faded to only the occasional tremor.

           Bacara nodded and with sure fingers, Rex slid the vambrace into place and clicked the clasps closed.  They both sighed when the armor settled into place and then Bacara was reaching for his vambrace.  He returned the favor and soon, they were both fully armored again, minus their buckets.

           “Thank you for letting me do this,” Rex murmured softly.

           “No need for that.  I’m glad you thought of it.  I wasn’t sure—”  Bacara trailed off.  There were a number of things that he could say, but neither one chose to acknowledge any of them out loud.  He wasn’t sure if Rex would want to wear his armor.  He wasn’t sure when they’d be able to see each other for the exchange to even be possible.  He wasn’t sure if either of them would live long enough to talk about exchanging armor.

           None of those concerns ended up being founded, and Bacara relaxed as much as he could against Rex.  Rex easily accepted his weight and held onto him as tight as he could.  It wasn’t the same as being on board a ship, where they felt a bit more comfortable removing their armor, but it was good enough for now.  Now was all they had, with the war pulling them across the galaxy from each other, and Rex intended to make the most of it.

           (Later, his men would send Rex knowing smirks and pointed observations, carefully out of hearing range of Commander Bacara.  While they teased and prodded at him, Rex knew that every single one of them were happy for him.  They all needed a little bit of love and comfort with the war weighing down on them.  Especially Captain Rex and The Marine.)

This is inspired by Soft Wars by @thefoundationproject . You should all go read it because it’s amazing!

#clone/clone #clone shipping #rexcara #rex/bacara #captain rex #commander bacara #soft and fluffy #i love them a lot #cloneshipweek2021 #day 7 | armor #armor swap #inspired by soft wars

[moxfirefly]

@aurora-the-kunoichi

Ok I accidentally deleted it but thankfully didn’t loose the important bits!

Rated Explicit (18+ Only)

Tonight held a different energy.

Leonardo had shown up with a bag and a grin that alluded to what the night might bring.

Which is how you found yourself sat on a chair, arms expertly tied behind your back in intricate patterns.

The small hitch was that Leo had placed one of your most hated but favorite of toys right upon your sex. The toy was snug against your sensitive nub and a very amused Leo sat in front of you. “I gotta say when I got here I had a few things in mind” His thumb hovered over the button.

He moved it upwards increasing the speed.

You squeaked, toes curling as you tried to keep your focus on making a mess so soon in the evening.

And well, Leo had stated that if you came without his permission that would be all you got for the night.

Which meant no him.

You swallowed and bit the inside of your cheek.

Focus.

“I wish this had a better range, would take it with me all the time” He sat back on the couch, cool as a damn cucumber over your rapidly increasing shakey form. “When you’re at work” He decreased the speed. “When you’re with friends” He increased it once more. “Maybe when you’re with that annoying co-worker of yours who thinks he has a shot” He pressed down fully, the jolt making you tremble as your mouth opened in a soundless moan.

He smiled before setting it back down to a low hum. He scooted closer, hands coming to rest on your trembling knees. “If I were you I’d control my breathing, darling” He cupped your chin, blue eyes assessing you for any discomfort, you nodded understanding his worries but egged him on when you snuck a tongue out.

Leo shook his head with a smile, getting up in all his imposing glory. “I don’t think you’re truly aware of how I go through with my threats” You bit down on the tip of your tongue, eyes so coy. “As if you would miss on the opportunity to show me that angry side you like meditating away so much” You kissed the pad of his thumb, eyes glued to his.

Seamlessly he slid that digit into your mouth, the softness of your plump lips around his thumb.

He leaned down, pressing his lips towards your ear.

“Does somebody want to have a ruined orgasm?” You stopped immediately, mouth slipping away slowly.

Leo reveled in it, he knew how much you despised it and you had already been on the nasty end of it a few times.

“Sorry Sensei...” Your voice was hushed. Leo kissed your forehead before sitting himself back down on the couch in front of you. He toyed with the remote, each teasing flick of his thumb over the button making you tense up. The low continuous hum was making a mess out of you, wetness pooling beneath you.

A breeze hit you and your naked skin pebbled.

The leader admired you, taking stock of the perspiration on your skin, the hardening of your nipples. Your innate need to try and grind down on the toy. “You’re beautiful Y/n, I could just keep you like this on my bed everyday if it were up to me” You saw a hand run down his muscular thigh. You followed that hand, trying to muster your focus on it instead of your slow building release.

That strong hand went to the front of his pants. “How about a game?” Your shoulders slumped, there was no way you were going to win whatever diabolical game he decided to cook up.

He lifted himself enough to slide down his pants. Your eyes went straight to his thickening member. He gripped it lightly, a teasing touch that made him sigh out. “I’m going to sit here and do this, I’m going to time you and if in the next ten minutes you haven’t cum, you get a reward” Leo gripped himself for emphasis, oh you wanted that reward.

Fair enough, you could do this. The slow vibrations surely would drive you mad but you could defenatly go ten minutes.

“Oh, forgot to mention...” Leo pressed down on the buttons of the remote several times, each increasing hum jolting you. “I’m putting that in it’s highest setting” He smirked enjoying how your body was squirming, trying your best to swallow your moans.

Fuck.

Leo lazily pumped himself, fingers toying with the head of his cock as you tried to reduce the pressure by not trying to sit on the toy so much. “Oh come on, I’m sure you can make ten little minutes like that” He spread out his legs, eyes darting to your engorged sex. “L-Lee, Jesus p-please” Your voice was strained, body flushed . “Please what?” He set the control aside and made for a bottle of lube in the bag.

You watched him with all the patience he possessed squirt out a bit onto his hand to cover over his member. The sound of his fist engulfing his thick member as he worked him had you biting your lip hard. “Please what?” He repeated himself, stroking with a much firmer grip. You hunched over, feet firmly planted on the floor with an orgasm quickly approaching. Your eyes watered as you thrashed.

“Darling that isn’t good posture, sit up straight” Leo dragged his tight fist to the tip and teased, gaze so tantalizing you wanted to scream. Nevertheless you did as told. He looked over towards the timer. “Hey five minutes to go, you’re doing so good.”

You whined a pathetic noise and stomped your feet. “Please! I-I won’t-shit! Sensei please, please I’ve been so good!” Your words were muddled. Each passing second felt like an hour passing by. You breaths came in quick successions and each one felt like it would give way to your impending finale.

Your eyes rolled back as you shook, willing every nerve in your body to halt. The tensions in your legs, your fist clenched and unclenched. “Leonardo please f-for god sake I’ll do-do anything you want me to” When you dared to focus your vision on him again a small section of your pride swelled. He was quickly stroking himself, a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out of him. He was fully atune to your shaking body.

The groan melted into a low churr and just when you felt your battle was lost you felt the offending toy shut off.

You slumped forward breathing so hard you were sure you would pass out. With some energy you were able to return your gaze to Leo who smirked.

He beckoned you.

You gulped.

Your legs felt like those of a newborn deer as you stood. The small step too much as you fell against him, knees at either side of his. The tension in your tied arms rivaled those of your shaking thighs. Leo ran a hand through your sweaty locks, lips kissing yours tenderly. “Good girl, you get rewarded”

When he entered you a long breathless mewl escaped you.

Two thrust in you came with a vicious tremble of your body and a noise that maybe resembled his name.

By the time Leo was showing signs of nearing his own release your body had shocked you with at least four more climaxes. Each one so strong and dizzying, each one perfectly gripping Leo’s cock within you. That sensation would never stop being his favorite. Your sweaty disheveled self would never stop being his favorite.

“C’mon, one more” His voice was a growl, strong arms holding you upright. “For me, hm? Do it for me” He bit down on your shoulder, eyes shutting tightly when he registered yet another orgasm leave you. A pathetic whine was all you could muster as you felt Leo thrust upwards and empty himself in you. The warmth of your slick coupled with his own release making him groan.

You felt like a limp noodle against him even as he peppered loving kisses to the harsh bite on your shoulder. “Easy, untying these” He undid the knot, strong hands massaging your arms to bring them back to a comfortable position. “Everything good? Was I too rough?” He kneaded the flesh and you shook your head. “M’fine, just beat” You mumbled against his neck.

“Bed it is then, on three ok?” He hooked his arms under your bottom and lifted himself and you in one easy fluid move. You were already out by the time he made it to the bedroom, but nevertheless you felt secured and blissed out.

Sometime around dawn you stirred enough to feel him behind you, arm secured around your waist.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #leonardo tmnt #tmnt leonardo #leo tmnt #tmnt leo #Leo #Leonardo #requested oneshot #aurora the kunoichi #ns*w

[writing-in-april]

The Five Stages of Grief

Stage five: Acceptance (5/5)

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Thanks to @zhuzhubii who helped me so much with this series and made this gif for me 🥰

Summary: Spencer going through each of the stages of grief after the death of the reader. Stage five is acceptance.

A/N: Can’t believe my first series on here is done!!! I’m not gonna lie you guys this chapter is super emotional for me- I no joke cried the whole time while writing it and while rereading to edit. I basically have been going through the same thing recently with my Nana. This chapter is very close to my heart and is definitely the most personal chapter for me. The whole series is actually heavily inspired by season 3 episode 19 -one of my favorite episodes of criminal minds- and I also used elements from season 3 episode 15. This also kinda helps explain a lot of my writing choices throughout the whole series if you’re curious. I did my first real attempt at foreshadowing in this series, I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for all the love and support on this series- with a special thanks to @spencerreidsmiles and @andiebeaword -you all have been so lovely and amazing.

Warnings (All warnings for the whole series are on series Masterlist): Sad Spencer, References to past drug use, References to past suicidal behaviors, Small panic attack, Hopeful Spencer, Unreliable narrator (much less so in this chapter)

Main Masterlist | The 5 Stages Masterlist Word Count: 3.5k (longest chapter)

It’s been a year; One full year since they had died in my arms. One full year since they had been shot so cruelly by a heartless unsub in an alley. One full year since I had been graced with their presence and the sound of their voice.

The elements of my emotions were extremely complex according to my therapist, and surprisingly I found myself starting to feel the benefits with them more every time I went to an individual session or a group session. It was hard for me to realize that I would have to learn to accept my situation.

It was hard to learn how to understand my own emotions when I had been so willing to shut them out, to try and convince myself that they didn’t exist.

I had begun to learn that I carried around the water that felt like I could drown in, the fire that burned so hot that anyone near it would get burned, the earth that I had wished would bury me with the pebbles I had chosen to cope with, and even the polluted air of my sadness around with me everyday. But, now I somewhat accepted the fact that they would always be with me, or at least I was trying to.

I had to learn to accept.

Even if it hurt I had to learn to at least try.

The next goal I had been given by the therapist was the most daunting of my tasks yet in my opinion. Trying to convince myself to open the boxes in the corner of the bedroom I had once shared with Y/N was harder than trying to get clean. The thought that had propelled me forward into getting clean was that I felt as though I would be disrespecting Y/N by not staying clean. They had been the reason all those years ago that I had spilled the clear liquid down the toilet and I needed to do it again, if only for them.

The boxes were something that were easier to ignore. I could ignore them by turning my back to the stack of boxes, choosing instead to stare at the painted walls of my apartment instead. There was no reason for me to stop ignoring the boxes, no one was trying to pressure me to open them besides my therapist. Everyone else in my life had no expectations for me to open them at any time, if ever, including Y/N’s family.

But, it had begun to feel like maybe I could try to attempt to open the boxes. I wasn’t sure what had finally prompted my brain into thinking that perhaps it would be a good thing to stop ignoring it. I stopped trying to understand why my mind works the way it does long ago, I had poured enough time into my life thinking about that.

I had felt this overwhelming urge to be able to look back at things that once belonged to them with some semblance of peace. I wanted to enjoy the memories we had together once more. I was tired of letting the memories get soiled by the unsub, I deserved to still think back on the one that I loved with a smile. I deserved to be able to preserve their memories with happiness and not let them sour with sadness. I wouldn’t let the unsub be able to kill something else while he was behind bars, my memories.

I was ready.

I was ready to open those boxes.

I was ready to at least try.

I was ready to try and look back at the memories.

I wasn’t going to let their memory die too.

My first attempt to open the boxes in the corner of my bedroom consisted of me staring for two hours at the stacks. I knew that I at least wanted to try to attempt to open a box, even if it was the smallest of the bunch.

That day I had gotten the lid of one of the boxes open. That was as much as I could handle emotionally in that moment. There was a small part of myself that wanted to push myself to look inside the box, but I couldn’t do it that night. That night I laid down on the bed, again facing the wall, unwilling to look at the boxes. I knew if I did I’d feel as if I had failed and I had to keep trying to convince myself that small progress was still progress.

I tried again despite the swirling anxiety in the hole in my chest.

I was still willing because I still wanted to have my memories unsullied by sadness.

I still knew that I deserved that despite my volatile elemental emotions threatening to push me into another toxic loop.

The next time I tried to look in the box I had previously opened just a little I immediately got choked, recognizing the contents sat at the top surrounded by other smaller insignificant items. I only managed to grab one of their old tchotchkes that used to sit on their desk in the bullpen. It was insignificant enough of an item that it didn’t make me fall into an endless loop of my emotions. I clutched it all night while I tried to sleep, though I still faced away from the boxes.

I hadn’t given up yet I still wanted to try, if only for them.

I would still try for them, even if I didn’t succeed, I still felt better for trying.

It had taken me awhile to muster up the courage to look at the box again, even though I still wanted to try I was scared that the contents would be too much for my fragile psyche. What I had gotten a glimpse of at the top of the box was something that used to be important for Y/N.

The next time I tried to look I successfully managed to pick up the item that had triggered the painful memory in my mind. It was ironically, it was another box.

The box wasn’t something that was explicitly tied to memories that we shared together. I knew it to be a music box from their childhood, given to them by someone that had meant so much to them. Out of curiosity I cranked the knob on the side and slowly opened the lid, wondering if I could handle the sounds of a song that I had often heard every time they had opened it to listen to the twinkle of the box they cherished.

As soon as the beginning notes of Swan Lake floated into the air I slammed to top shut, unwilling to open up the box of my emotions all the way just yet. I knew I couldn’t get rid of it, it was too important of an artifact in Y/N’s life. Though I knew that this wasn’t something I could keep to myself, this belonged to Y/N’s family. I clutched the box for a second in my arms when I came to the realization that the trinket should be with someone else as if it would be cruelly ripped from my arms right then and there. I felt a little fire being stoked in my belly at the thought of people taking it from me, even though there was no one there in my lonely apartment with me.

I started a breathing exercise that my therapist had told me to use when I felt like this. No matter how much it pained me to admit it, it did help immensely in snuffing out the emotions when I could feel them begin to spiral out of control.

I couldn’t let myself fall into an endless loop of volatile emotions again. I had worked hard to get clean after I had started to write my amends. It had been a hard uphill battle even after I had written down my amends, my grief hadn’t magically gone away that day. Getting clean had been much harder without my rock and the person who had helped me get clean the first time around. I wouldn’t disrespect their memory by going back to dilaudid again.

Once the initial fear began to fade and my breathing had grown steady I forced myself to loosen my grip on the music box. I then carefully set it down in a place that would be suitable enough for a stack of things I’d pass off to other people that had been important to them. I hoped I’d soon be ready to make a donation pile despite that I despised the mere thought of giving something away that belonged to them to a mere stranger.

It was already too much for today, I could only bear looking at the one item. I didn't know how I’d be able to handle it if the box was filled with more trinkets that were important to them. I did however find myself thinking when I laid down on my bed for the night after a hot shower to relax my mind. I found my mind thinking about the trinkets they’d had an affinity for collecting. It still brought tears to my eyes to think about giving away their stuff, even if it was to people who also mattered in their life. But, I found myself thinking about their old cute little trinkets without as much pain, though it was definitely still there.

Maybe tomorrow when I try, I’d do better.

The small box that I had begun to unpack over a series of days didn’t hold anything else seemingly important to Y/N’s life. Besides the music box I had found prior, the small box was only filled with unimportant trinkets that thankfully didn’t spark much meaning in my mind. It was obvious that when the team had initially helped me to put their stuff away until I was ready that things had been put away in a slight haste. They must’ve done it so quickly as a way to try and help me. The animosity that I had held towards my team for the last year because of Y/N’s death had been slowly melting away over time. I still wasn’t as friendly as I had been before, but I knew my frigid nature after the event hadn’t been justified. I knew now that they had only my best interests at heart, even if they didn’t always pinpoint what they were correctly. I had even begun to regain some of my desk duties once I had gotten clean. It had felt good to feel somewhat normal even though the sight of their desk directly across from mine and their still empty round table chair still made my heart pang with grief.

I had even begun texting them more frequently again, though I was still aversive to text, so I guess it still wasn’t that often. Some things really do never change despite the fact that my life had turned on its head in the past year. I had even begun to write letters to my mom again.

I knew I was lucky to still have people by my side, even if it wasn’t the one I knew deep down I still wanted with me.

I thought I could have at least done the box without crying anymore.

That was until I found something at the bottom of the box that made the dam holding my memories back in my mind break to flood my mind. The book would probably seem inconsequential compared to the rest of the items that I knew sat in the other boxes. Most people would assume after just looking at the surface level what items of Y/N’s meant most to me, the ones I wanted to keep. The black paper back was well worn around the edges, almost like if I read it too frequently and I wasn’t too careful that the spine would break. I ran my fingers up and down the battered book as I began to willingly reminisce. To other people the book would’ve looked beaten already beyond repair, maybe as if it had not been loved enough, battered perhaps because of neglect.

But, just like me I knew that Y/N had loved the book more than most people would be willing to.

I knew that I wanted to keep this book, no matter how painful I knew their contents would be for me. I hoped that I’d be able to read it so much that I’d be afraid for the binding of the book, just to be able to feel close to them again. Though I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to dig up this particular memory, it might still be too painful for me.

I remember they had bought this book for us after I had connected with a grieving father on a case. He had specifically quoted a poem to me that stuck with me for weeks after. Once I had told them of the excerpt quoted to me they had immediately grabbed a copy of where it had originated from, a long Wordsworth poem. The book “Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood” became their favorite quickly, in fact it used to take residence in the top drawer of their nightstand. They had often loved to read me their favorite excerpts at night just before bed when my eyes couldn’t stand to focus on the pages anymore.

When I opened the well worn book it flipped open to where they had set their bookmark last, I recognized the excerpt immediately. My breath got caught up in my throat when the words danced around in my vision. I wasn’t sure if I could face this specific excerpt quite yet, or even be able to read any part of the poem. The book held so many memories of them. This specific poem held so much meaning to the both of us.

However, there was something in me that wanted to try. I wanted to be able to read the poem again and remember the memories we shared fondly. I wanted to be able to enjoy my memories with them. I had come to realize over the past year that their memory deserved to be nurtured with fondness not overwhelmed with sadness.

So, I decided to try.

The memory’s attached to the excerpt immediately began flooding back even as soon as I read the beginning words. The bookmark had landed on the page that had been quoted to me by the grieving father, the words holding even more meaning in my life now than ever before.

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my-“

The tears in my eyes blurred my vision, so much so that I had to stop reading for a moment to wipe my eyes. I didn’t know if I wanted to continue, just those first few lines were already weighing heavily on my mind. I was already focusing on the radiance that had left my life forever. A radiance that was once so bright, but was now snuffed out, forever taken from my sight. My sorrow was creeping in with small little waves in my mind, I just had to hope that it wouldn't drown me. I didn’t want to get stuck on an endless loop of emotions again, I had just gotten fully clean a little while ago.

Even though I was feeling intensely emotional over just the first few words I wanted to keep trying. I wanted to read this poem and smile. I wanted to be able to look back at our memories with love, to take back what had been polluted by the acts of a heinous man. Once I had somewhat collected myself and my thoughts I began to read again from the beginning of the excerpt-

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower,”

My entire being could not help but ache as I read the words, still aching for the presence of the one who had been forever taken from my sight. When I reached that part that I remembered asking the grieving man about all those years ago, the words held an even deeper meaning to me now than I ever thought possible. There was nothing I could do to bring back the hour where I was still in my lover’s embrace. I wanted to be back in the moments of splendour in the grass and glory in the flower, I knew that soon I’d have to fully accept that it wasn’t possible.

Again I had to wipe tears from my eyes before continuing to read the stanza. This time a few tears dribbling down onto the pages, marking them with my sadness forever no matter if it dried into the parchment or not. I continued to read the page despite the saltwater that continued to drip down my face,

“We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind”

I felt a small watery smile creep onto my face, it had been so long since I had remembered to smile with sincerity. I was thinking about some of the times they had read this to me as I tried to drift off into a most likely restless sleep. Though I had always slept better when they read to me. At the time the words hadn’t meant as much to me as they did now, I now had a permanent connection to the feeling of grief that would never be erased. For the first time in a long time thinking about them didn’t hurt as much for a moment, I actually smiled, even though it was rather watery. No matter how small or sad the smile was, I was still smiling. And, I knew in that moment that Y/N would’ve been proud of me.

I pondered on the stanza’s meaning in a deeper way than I had done before. The things stated in the stanza about how I would gain strength from this situation made me contemplate what Y/N would’ve wanted me to do after their death. They wouldn’t want me to give up as I had done before, they had always wanted the best for me. They would want me to gain strength from the situation.

They would want me to grow from the pain that sat in my chest.

They would want me to move on, to accept.

I didn’t know if I’d ever find someone else that I’d ever love as much as I loved them. I didn’t really ever want to, I had found my true love already. Maybe one day I’d find someone to fall in love with again and if I did I knew they would be happy that I was able to move on with someone else. Even if I ever did move on with someone else there’d always be a part of my heart that belonged to Y/N. For now I was ready to move on in a different way. I was ready to live my life without them, by myself.

The trauma of losing them would always weigh heavily on my soul, I’d carry that with me until I rejoined them in the earth. But, I was now ready to keep living, if only for them. I felt less guilty now since I had grown to realize that they’d want me to try and live the rest of my life as fully as I could. They’d want me to try and find happiness. I didn’t know if I would ever truly find it again, whether it was on my own or with someone else.

They may have been forever taken from my sight, but I found comfort in the fact that the radiance they brought into my life would always reside in me. Instead of letting the deep hole in my chest gape until the hour of my death, I’d let it fill with the radiance of their memory.

I was ready to try.

I was ready to try even if I knew the water that felt like I could drown in, the fire that burned so hot that anyone near it would get burned, the earth that I had wished would bury me with the pebbles I had chosen to cope with, and even the polluted air of my sadness around with me everyday would sometimes take ahold of me again no matter how hard I tried.

I’d always carry those emotions with me, but I knew I was ready.

“Nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.”

I knew I was ready because their memory would always be with me to give me strength and to guide me. They’d always be there to help me try to live the rest of my life peacefully.

When I slept that night I faced the boxes while clutching the book to my chest.

Even though it still would always hurt on some level, I was ready to live in a reality where I could accept.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

5 stages of grief:

@joonie-centric @tatesimper @half-blood-dork @mcntsee @illuxions-x @rainsong01 @nomajdetective @loveheathens @day-n-night-dreamer @reidbuck

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid series #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #5 stages of grief series #5 stages of grief

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: Welcome back, luvs ❤️ Glad to have you back

Warnings: mentions of marijuana

Word Count: 2876

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Two: Gotta Have Soul

“What was school like for you?”

“Like, a regular school day?”

“Yeah, like a regular school day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A normal day of school for me was like walking around in a glass bubble. This isn’t a metaphor for personal space, but rather the concept of fitting in. Clearly, I fit in at school, but not in the way I expected to. I could walk amongst my peers and smile in their faces, talk with them, but it’d be difficult to hear through the glass of my bubble. We could reach out to each other and hope for a connection, but our hands would forever be disconnected by the glass. But they seemed to be fine with it. They didn’t want to come into my bubble, they just wanted to admire me from the outside. And I supposed I was fine with that, as well. It wasn’t like I opened my bubble for anyone, even invited anyone inside. I let Dina in once and got paranoid. Paranoid that she’d take up the air, that she’d hate my bubble and what I’d have to offer within it. So, I did what I thought was best and kindly asked her to leave. Assured her that she could maybe come back another time, when I was ready. As the sweet and considerate person that she was, she had no problem with it.

Stan didn’t need to live in a glass bubble because he didn’t need to fit in. And I’ve never needed to open the bubble myself to allow him access. He was welcome anytime and entered as he pleased. He was the only person who understood me. I realize that we had more in common than I thought. No one understood our fashion senses, our tastes in music, the way we preferred to keep to ourselves. I could breathe around him and smile and laugh, I mean actually laugh. It was just a shame it all had to wait until after school. Stan and I lived in two different worlds at school. Sometimes I’d catch a ride with him if he left his house the same time I did mine. The second we would set foot on the school campus, we were strangers. It wasn’t that we were embarrassed of each other, I just think Stan was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. Hell, I was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. I’d much rather be walking down those halls with Stan, Dina, and Sydney (if she was comfortable with me). Luckily, I had classes with each of them.

I had nearly every class with Dina, save for honor choir and theatre classes. We found a way to sit near each other in every class we had and talked about everything and nothing for the entire hour. Half of my classes were with Stanley, and those hours were full of glancing at each other and playfully winking or blowing kisses. He’d pass me notes old-school style, but always avoided the route that would lead to either Ricky or Brad. We had a couple of run-ins that led to them teasing Stan before the note could even reach me. Study hall was one of the only times Stan and I would actually sit together and talk in school. Sometimes we’d study, sometimes we’d skip and go smoke outside. Nonetheless, we’d make the most out of our time together.

I only had two classes with Sydney and both included Dina, so there still wasn’t much going on between us at school. She wasn’t as active in gym class as we were, so it was a lot of her cheering us on when we played basketball or dodgeball. She was usually the person to hand me Stan’s notes in science, having to dodge Ricky and Brad’s grabbing hands so that I could quickly snatch it. Luckily, I only had two classes with Ricky and Brad, and they both included Dina and Stan. So, I was never trapped in an uncomfortable situation with Ricky before their eyes.

Science was the most chaotic class for me. Not only did I not care for the subject, but my seat was away from both Stan and Dina. I was nearly sandwiched between Ricky and Brad, which set me on edge most days. Despite this, I simply tried my best to focus on my school work. “And yes, during arousal, there is an increase in all sorts of things, including adrenaline and, of course, blood flow,” Mr File droned on as I wrote down notes in my notebook. Dina always said she thought it was cute how I used different colors for each day. Little did she know, once I started this system, I couldn’t stop it. This was to the point that I had to buy a set of pens for each class. I couldn’t use my green math pen for my Tuesday science class. “And the blood flow continues down and then gets trapped within the corpora cavernosa. The penis expands, and this is how the Homo sapien male is able to hold an erection. Yes?”

My attention was diverted to Bradley, who raised his hand. Once he was called on, he set his hand back down and straightened his posture. “From my experience, Mr File, the holding of an erection is far more successful in the hands of a Homo sapien female.” His inappropriate joke sent an eruption of laughter throughout the classroom. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

“Very funny, Mr Lewis.” Mr File deadpanned.

“Just talkin’ science.”

“Moving on.” As my teacher turned back to the chalkboard, Ricky and Brad reached over my head to high five each other. I scoffed and continued on with my notes. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ricky turn around to speak to Sydney.

“Ah. Oh, come on, fire crotch. Laugh. That was funny.”

“Don’t be a prick, Ricky,” I hissed, the boy’s head snapping over to me. “It wasn’t even that funny.”

Ricky tilted his head at me and gave a soft smile, his hand reaching over and clasping around my wrist. “Okay, babe, I’ll leave your friend alone-”

“And don’t call me babe.” I yanked my wrist from his grasp. He froze, shocked, his mouth opening and closing as if at a loss for words.

“Mr Berry, if you could take your eyes off of Ms (Y/L/N) for one second to listen to my lecture, that would be very much appreciated.” At the sound of Mr File’s voice, Ricky quickly turned forward and returned to his notes.

“I’ll definitely try my best, sir.” He smirked, Bradley chuckling and reaching over my head again to give his friend another high five. My eyes fell on Stanley, who was watching the interaction in annoyance. When his gaze met mine, he gave me a sympathetic look. I only held my fingers in the position of a gun up to my temple and pretended to fire it. He shook his head in amusement before turning his attention back to Mr File. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Sydney glanced between Dina and our teacher before her gaze settled on me. She gave me a small smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I winked at her and gave a thumbs up. That was the start of one of the very few friendly interactions we’d have throughout the week.

On my way home from school that day, I spotted Syd and ran to catch up with her. “Hey, Sydney.” I grinned, the girl jumping a bit when I appeared by her side.

“O-Oh. Um, hey, Zip.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” I chuckled. “You’re normal.”

She smiled and stared down at her feet. “Uh… Why are you walking with me?” I frowned at her question, but she raised her head quickly. “Like, no offense, but… you usually just… keep to yourself. Or you get a ride from Stanley.”

“I stayed after for theatre rehearsal,” I shrugged. “But we never talk. We’re neighbors, Syd. And we’re both friends with Dina. Isn’t it weird we never talk?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I’m not saying we should hang out everyday and tell each other secrets, but… you know.”

“No, yeah, I get it. I mean, Dina likes you… So does everyone else, so you must be really cool to be around.”

“Well, that’s something you can find out for the both of us. Because I still don’t get it…” I turned my head forward, my voice trailing off. We continued our journey home in comfortable silence, every now and then striking up pebble throwing contests. Sydney had a really nice smile. It was a shame she didn’t use it much. When we reached my street, our walk didn’t last much longer. “Here’s my stop.” I announced, stepping away towards the mailbox to retrieve our mail. Sydney nodded with a smile.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow-”

“Oh, hey, Syd!” Stan’s voice called out. We both turned our heads to see him getting up from his porch, making his way to the middle of the street to meet Syd. “And my lovely Zip.”

“Hey, beautiful.” I winked, pulling out a couple envelopes from the box. Stanley chuckled fondly at me before looking back to Syd, who was waiting expectantly.

“Oh, my leg fell asleep. One sec,” He then began shaking and stretching his leg, Sydney standing by awkwardly. The sight alone was enough to have me quietly laughing to myself. Stan let out a sigh once he was done and planted his foot back on the ground. “Can I walk with you?”

“Sure. Why not?” Syd shrugged. Stan smiled and turned forward with her.

“Cool.”

As they walked away, I noticed one of the envelopes was addressed to me. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, I ripped it open. Inside was a lonely check. No note. Just like last time. And the time before that. Taking out the check, my eyes bulged at the number written down. Four hundred dollars?! Four hundred fucking dollars from Dad in two weeks! I tried to think of the upcoming dates. Was Aunt Pam’s birthday coming up? Uncle David’s? Jacob’s? No one’s. So… why did Dad send me twice as much this time? My head lifted to find Stanley happily dancing back up to his house, twirling and jumping with his bare feet. I laughed at the sight. As he descended the slope to his house, he motioned for me to follow. Setting the mail on the porch swing, I pocketed my check and hurried down to Stan’s.

-------------------------------------------------

“What about this one?” I held up Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on vinyl. “I love me some Elton John.”

“Whatever you want, Nugget.” I heard him from the couch. Satisfied with my decision, I put the music on, nodding to the beat of Crocodile Rock as I joined Stanley on the couch. He had just taken out one of his pre-rolled joints from his case and was lighting it up.

“So…”

“So?”

“What’s up with you and Sydney Novak?” I cheekily grinned, my friend puffing on the smoke as he removed the joint from his mouth. “You wanted to… walk with her?”

“I wanted to hang out with her. We’ve never hung out before. I just thought she’d want more friends.”

“Uh-huh…” I raised a brow, taking the joint when it was offered to me. As I inhaled the smoke, Stan waved me off.

“Whatever. So… what’s been going on with you? It’s been about three weeks since you got back and you haven’t spoken a word about where you disappeared to.”

I quickly handed the joint back as I exhaled, the smoke clouding my vision. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna talk about that…”

“Oh.” Stan cleared his throat.

“Let’s just say it was… very depressing.”

“Well, what about your dad? How’s he been?”

“He’s good, I think. Working in Georgia still. Oh!” I lifted my hip a bit to retrieve the check from my back pocket. “Look at this fucking shit, Stan! My dad sends me a two hundred dollar check every two weeks. But look what I got this time.” Stan leaned over, squinting his eyes as if he weren’t seeing right.

“Four hundred?!”

“Four hundred!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), what does he do?!”

“In all honesty, Stan, I have no fucking idea. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.” Stan mumbled, silencing himself by placing the joint between his lips. It didn’t take too long for our highs to kick in. When they did, we were draped over one another, lazily drawing shapes in the air. I reached over and tickled Stan’s foot, which was just beside my head. He quietly giggled and retracted his foot from me. I laughed loudly and dropped my arm.

“Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“This is where we peak, huh? This is, like, as good as it gets,” I watched as he lifted his head, attempting to make eye contact with me. “Like, we’re not gonna have shit going for us besides a lousy paycheck we slave for. And we’re gonna settle for someone who makes us all feel a little less lonely… or we just end up alone and blame everyone else for it. And then… In, like, ten years we’re gonna go to our high school reunion and then we’re gonna find out that… We all were pieces of shit at the age of seventeen and that’s as good as we got. It’s as good as we’ll ever get,” I pointed to him. “At least, that’s what you told me.”

“Nugget… you talk too much,” He flopped back onto the ground. “But yeah, you’re right. But, like… not you.”

“Not me?”

“No, you’re gonna… move away again. But for good. You’re gonna become the best… damn actress of our time and you’re gonna walk on red carpets and go on talk shows and go ‘Yeah, my best friend Stanley Barber was the best thing that’s ever happened to me’, and then-”

“That’s not how I talk!” I burst out laughing, which triggered his own laughter. We spent the next few moments rolling on the floor, trying to catch our breaths in the midst of our cackling. Even in my haze, I thought to myself, If this is where I peak, I’m the most successful of them all to peak with Stan. How could no one have wanted to hang out with him? He was the only thing that kept me sane most days with his carefree philosophy on life. There was never a dull moment with him. Never a single second of doubt in his ability to make me smile, to make me feel good about myself. And maybe it was selfish to depend on him that much, but I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it.

When our highs almost completely wore off, I wished Stan a goodbye and headed back home. Entering the house, Jacob was just about to exit. “Oh, hey, Bug-” He stopped and sniffed. “You smell like weed.”

“You’ll live.” I smiled and walked inside. In the kitchen, Aunt Pam was making dinner while dancing to the music on the radio. Upon my arrival, she clapped and went to hug me.

“(Y/N), how was your-” She stepped back and sniffed. “Ugh, you smell like weed…”

“Sorry.”

“I honestly don’t care. But I wanted to tell you that you should call your dad. It’s been a couple of weeks with no call. Remember he said he’d check on you every other day?”

“I remember. I’ll call him right now.” Heading upstairs to my room, I pulled out my cell phone. I accessed my contacts before pressing on my dad’s, holding the phone up to my ear. When the call was answered, there was no greeting. Just faint breathing from the other end. “Uh… Dad-”

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rushed out, sounding out of breath. “What- What did you call for?”

“What did I… Dad, you said you’d call me three times a week. It’s been two weeks with no call.”

“You’re right, you’re right, doll.” He sighed. I frowned in disgust. He never called me ‘doll’. “How’s school going? Straight A’s?”

“Um… not really,” I mumbled as I entered my bedroom, setting my backpack on the ground before flopping on my bed, sighing contently. “A couple of B’s, but I’m trying. Uh, I got the check.”

“Yeah, yeah, your allowance.” He huffed.

“Uh-huh… but you gave me twice as much.”

“Yeah, for homecoming. Pam said it was next week.”

“Oh, yeah…,” I rolled onto my back. “Almost forgot.”

“Yeah, so just… buy yourself something pretty- Listen, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go, but I promise to call you in two days.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you-” I was cut off when he abruptly hung up the phone. Sighing, I let my arm flop down beside my head. If I had to be completely honest, that was normal behavior from my dad lately. Sure, I mentioned he wasn’t present in his mind, but this was different. He was clearly occupied. Very occupied. I brushed it off as him being hard at work, but…

Something told me there was more going on with my Dad. And it scared me.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @give-the-boy-a-hug @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stan barber #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt x reader #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

[high-lady-lana]

The Fawn and Her Fox

Chapter Three: Dueling Violins 

          My sister still isn't home and the rest of the Inner Circle has stayed pretty much well away, minding their own business and taking care of their own tasks, me and Lucien the only ones without tasks to complete.

        Nuala and Ceriddwen help me dress for the opera. Styling my hair into a neat braided bun, two curls framing either side of my face. My dress is short, flowing around my knees, the shade a pretty shade of emerald green, small sparkles catching the moon making it twinkle. 

        A happiness I haven't felt in a long time bubbles inside my chest. When I was a girl I used to lover going to the play house. Watching opera, plays, and symphonies it was my favorite thing to do. One of the happiest times outside of my garden as a child was going to the play house and witnessing an opera.

        It was my first time and mama helped me dress in my finest. I felt like a princess, especially when papa had paid for box seats. The beautiful instruments ringing throughout the room, haunting every nook and cranny in the room, demanding to be heard, caressing the ears of those willing enough to listen, bringing tears to my eyes and making my heart ache with the unrequited love of the song. 

        After that the symphonies became my favorite thing. Every birthday, before my fathers downfall, my parents would take me to the opera and each year it rocked my world. Devastation filled me the first time we missed an symphony and every year after that I had to rely on my garden, my only source of light and happiness. 

        Now here I am, in Prythian, standing in a dress that would be considered scandalous by human standards going with a man who is my mate to an symphony with fae. A giggle of disbelief bubbles up and I take a deep breath and step out of my room... knocking right into Lucien. 

        My cheeks flame as I bounce back, tripping and he grabs my shoulders, helping me find steady footing. His hands are warm on my bare shoulders, the calluses on his hands scraping against my skin. The flush spreads over my chest and neck when I am able to take in his attire. Black tunic lined with... emerald green, the same shade as my dress. 

        "I'm sorry, I was going downstairs to wait for you." His breath slightly catches as he takes me in as well. 

        Abruptly, he lets me go and I have to take several breaths before I can even think again. His long hair looks smooth and silky. "You look beautiful, Elain." His voice is a quite rumble and my skin pebbles at the smooth cadence of his words. 

        My flush deepens and I twist my fingers into the soft material of my dress. "Thank you," I say, deciding not to voice the fact he looks immaculately handsome. I've embarrassed myself enough in the past five minutes without admitting his appearance has taken me aback.

        "Are you ready to go?" He asks.

        His words snap me out of my thoughts and I nod. 

        We leave the house, the sun setting in the distance. The trek to the play house is quiet and uneventful. Lucien and I stay quite, choosing a comfortable silence over awkward small talk. How do you speak to someone you're supposed to be with but you just can't accept it yet? I don't know how to be around him. He's never pressured me or pushed any boundaries, but he's just here, being a mate but not. 

        My head spins with feelings and expectations and worries. Once we get to the play house we are seated swiftly by a woman with green tinged skin and spiky ears, to my surprise we are guided to high seats, one level lower than the box and it's wonderful. 

        People are being seated, chattering quietly, a low hum filling the room. Lucien shifts in his seat, his large frame looking funny in such a small chair. His hair lays like silk along his chest and his muscular bicep brushes against me, our knees bumping. My heart slams against my ribcage and I study the side of his lovely face. 

        Slowly, his face turns towards mine and a smile creeps shyly onto his full lips. "How long has it been since you've been to a symphony?" He asks, attention solely focused on me. 

        I sweep the baby hairs from my forehead and shift in my seat, unable to stay still under his powerful gaze. "A very long time. I was only a girl. It was the birthday before my family lost their fortune when my mother passed." I shake my head, twisting my hands together. "A lot of things changed after that..." Guilt naws at my stomach at the knowledge that I let Feyre go out and feed us time and time again. I let that Spring Lord tamper with my mind, making me believe Feyre was okay. I wasn't strong for my family then and I am definitely not strong now. 

        "Elain?"

        Lucien's voice stops the tirade of spiraling thoughts consuming my mind. The lines around his eyes are creased with gentle worry. "Yes?" I ask, choosing to ignore my obvious silence.

        He smiles almost tentatively. "Where did you go?"

        I know he doesn't mean anything but mentally. My cheeks flame and the heat spreads down my neck and chest. "I was thinking of all my mistakes since my family's downfall. Feyre saved us... on more than one occassion and Nesta is strong in her own right and I am just... here."

        Lucien shakes his head. "On the contrary, Elain. You cannot compare yourself to your sisters. You are very strong in my book and I have lived quite a while."

        I peer at him beneath lowered lashes, butterflies tickling the inside of my chest. "How so?" I ask, skeptically. 

        "Well," he starts loftily, bringing a smile from my lips. "You live with what happened to you everyday. And i don't just mean about being tossed into Prythian. I mean living the way you did as a human. Not everyone is willing to accept the wrongs they have committed in the past, but you know you've done wrong. It's hard to self reflect and it makes you strong that you are able to look at yourself in a harsh light."

        His words strike a chord withing me. "You speak from experience?"

        He gives me a shy lopsided smile. "You don't live for hundreds of years without making mistakes, Elain. I have made some that have cost me dearly. Even when I thought I was doing the right thing." He shakes his head. "Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone regrets. It's how we move on and better ourselves that really matters."

        His words lift an unknown weight from my chest and I brush my knee against his as the lighting darkens in the theater. "Thank you."

        With one last soft smile, he turns his attention towards the stage and I follow suit. Fae of all kinds sit on stage holding violins, cellos, flutes, one sits at a piano. 

        First is starts off with a lone violin, the player moving with the music in a sea of other violins, then a higher one chimes in, mimicking the first, complementing each other beautifully. The notes flirt and skimper around each other, others join in but never overpowering the two original violins. They dance and soar higher, higher, higher, falling in love until they are torn apart. The battle plays out before my eyes, warring families, two unlikely people to fall fighting against Heaven and Earth to get to the one they love. The crescendo climbs higher and higher and higher, my heart beating rapidly, chills coating my skin down to my very bones.

        My butt at the edge of the seat almost too anticipated to stay seated. Finally, it all falls away except the two violins who move together, bringing to the last of the story, striking the final long note and silence. 

        My breathing comes out in silent pants and my body relaxes with the silence. When I look over at Lucien as everyone stands, I find him look straight at me. He had to have been watching me for a while for his lips are parted in awe and just like the last last note something between us slides together and then silence.

#elucien #elucien kingdom #elucien forever #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #The Fawn and Her Fox #chapter three #sjm #sarah j maas #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #elucien fandom #Elucien endgame #mates #mating bond #romance #love #slow burn #fanfiction #wattpad #high-lady-lana #dueling violins #symphony #art #music #date

[brichan87]

Trying out a new story

Been working on a new story: a new take on the superhero genre. Figure I will post it here and see what people think. Still a work in progress but feel free to leave feedback.

Chapter 1

The morning cold seeped into her bones as she shuffled into the kitchen not quite ready to face the world. Her eyes opened to narrow slits, filtering out all of the world except her intended target. The sky outside was still dark and caused her mind to plead for her to go back to bed. Yet, as she does every morning, Tally resisted the urge to turn around and return the the bedroom.

The winter holidays were fast approaching; however, the days seemed to be lengthening while her energy diminishes more and more each day. Every morning she should wake up feeling refreshed and revitalized; instead Tally feels more exhausted than when she went to sleep, defeating its entire purpose. Meditation, tea...nothing seemed to help which caused her frustration to increase with each failure. Why waste that time sleeping if it did nothing for her?

Part of her understood that the stress of the season was adding to her exhaustion. Between the decorations, preparations for guests, and trying to that holiday scene perfect for social media, it was natural for someone to feel burned out. And her second job only added to the exhaustion. However, Tally could not shake the feeling that something was not right.

Something about this exhausting felt strange: like it was unnatural. Maybe it was just her trying to explain away her stress and fears as reactions to things that are out of her control but something inside of her was screaming “danger!” The damage dealt to her arm the night before did not help her with the feeling of impending doom. For such minor injuries, the pain level kept creeping up over night.

“Maybe I need to call the doctor to get checked out,” Tally mumbled softly as she wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic mug waiting for her on the counter. The smell of orange and cinnamon wafted through the air causing her brain and body slowly began to become more alive.

“Hey, that could have been mine,” a voice teased from behind her. 

Turning her head to glance over her shoulder, she saw her boyfriend set down his tablet and stand up from the table. Making his way into the kitchen, he popped open the refrigerator door and dug out some ingredients. After mixing some of them together, the man walked up to Tally and placed a small kiss on her cheek before handing her a bowl of fruit and yogurt.

“Me, tea. You, coffee,” she grunted. Last night was a rough one; getting in at one in the morning definitely made her less than cheery at 5 A.M. But the soft smile she got in return made her heart flutter as she reached out and grasped the bowl that he held out to her. 

“Wow. Didn’t know I was dating a caveman.” Bradie chuckled as she flashed him a less than loving hand gesture. “Alright, alright, I get it. Mornings are still not your thing. I appreciate you sacrificing your chance to sleep in to spend some time with sad, little me who has to be at work by seven in the morning everyday.”

“Sad, little you is exceptionally cheery today. Why?”

“Because it is the last day of school before Thanksgiving Break. So not only will I have 5 days of no work related activities because I was ‘a good child’ who got all his lessons planned before the break, but tomorrow I finally get to meet your family.”

THUNK!

Every dish on the table rattled as Talaleigh let gravity drag her head down until her forehead struck the surface; whether or not the groan she let out was out of pain or frustration was a mystery to both of the people in the room. 

“Are you sure we have to go visit my family? It’s really not too late to say something came up,” she pleaded. The table muffled the sound of the words but the dread managed to ring out loud and clear. “We can even hop a last minute flight and go see your parents. Or a nice, quiet couple’s Thanksgiving. Anything but going to see my family.”

The room was silent for a few minutes then Bradie let out a soft sigh as he slid into the chair opposite of hers. “What’s going on, Tal? Because you never want me to meet your family. And I try to not be offended by it but more and more it is starting to feel like you are ashamed of me.”

“No, not you,” she reassured. Lifting her head up, Tally reached across the table and rested her hand on his forearm. “Never you. You are amazing. Smart, intelligent, kind, good-looking, amazing, and I know I am repeating myself here but it is true. It is not you that I am trying to hide.”

Standing up from the table, Tally grabbed both of their cups and took them into the kitchen. “It’s just that…,” she began as she poured Bradie more coffee and began to brew herself a new cup of tea. This conversation seemed easier to have if she was slightly distracted by a separate task. “My parents are a little nontraditional. Loving, supportive people but definitely different. Nothing like your parents. And then my brother,” she continued as she brought finished the preparations and brought their drinks back to the table. “He and I really don’t get along at all. As in we get into fights pretty frequently. And they are not small fights.” As much as she tried to fight them back, a few tears began to fill her the corners of her eyes. “And it sucks because he were actually really close as kids, but then something happened and it has never been the same since." Grabbing a tissue off the corner of the desk, Tally wiped away the tears before they escaped. "So it is not that I don’t want to show you off to my family, it is more that I don’t want you to bear witness to the kind of crazy you’ll be tied to if you stick with me.”

“Oh honey, I’ve already witnessed that crazy. However…” he paused to duck the wadded up napkin being thrown at him. “I love you too much to care what your family is like. They are a part of you, so I  am sure that I will love them just like I do you. And if not, I promise we never have to see them again. Deal?”

A twitch of her lips revealed her thoughts before she gave him a small nod. "Deal, but that means you.." A yawn fought its way to the surface, breaking off her comment. As she brought up her arm to hide her mouth, her sleeve slipped down, exposing several bruises and cuts littering the expanse of her forearm. Most were shallow but a few of them were deep enough to require bandages until they scabbed over.

“Jesus Tal!” Bradie exclaimed. He clamored out of the chair and knelt by her side. “Those look bad. Why didn’t you say anything?” He gently grasped her wrist to examine the wounds. Rolling up her sleeve further, he noticed some areas that looked like they were burned by some sort of chemical: the skin was red and pebbled with tiny bumps.

Tally half-heartedly tried to pull her arm out of his grip but her boyfriend was not done investigating the wounds. "It’s nothing, really. Just ran into some trouble with a nasty plant last night, and it left me with some scratches and little poison ivy I think. Not a big, oh sh------” she hissed as Bradie accidentally grazed one of the wounds with his fingernail. Waves of pain pulsed through her arm, and Tally squeezed her eyes shut while trying to ride out the pain. When she was able to open her eyes again once the pain faded away, Talaleigh felt a twinge of guilt when she laid eyes on her boyfriend. Disapproval was sketched all over his face.

“It’s not a big deal, my ass,” he grumbled, letting her arm go as he stood up. “You should have woken me up.”  Reaching into the cabinet above the sink, he shoved boxes and bottles to the side, digging for an item buried in the back. “You know I wouldn’t mind helping you clean up your wounds. If anything,” he continued as he pulled out a first aid kit and made his way back to her side. “It would help me because then I wouldn’t have mini-heart attacks every time I find one on accident.” He knelt down beside her and held out a hand, waiting for her to place her care literally and figuratively in his hands. Tally did not hesitate to comply.

“I know,” she replied softly. She winced a little as the man at her knees started to apply antiseptic to the cuts on her arm. Flames licked at the wounds as the medicine killed the bacteria surrounding the edges of the cuts. For the second time in the past five minutes, Tally felt tears welling up in her eyes. But these tears were different; they were for the man who loved and worried about her enough to risk being late for work in order to take care of her. “I know it scares you, and I’m sorry. I...I just figured that I had it handled so there is no point in waking you just so you could worry more.”

A hand reached up and brushed off a few of the tears that had escaped to her cheek, surprising Tally because she did not even notice them leaving. Then a pair of strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and brought her to his chest.  The continuous beat of his heart soothed her frayed, emotional nerves and surrounded her with warmth and safety.

“I will always worry,” he whispers in her ear, causing more tears to join the ones that he erased a moment earlier. “It is just the price of loving someone who cares so much about others and will do whatever she can to help them. And I know your job is important but so are you. Don’t make sacrificing yourself the first option you pick. Can you promise me that?”

A flurry of emotions raced through Talaleigh. Her instincts to make light of serious issues warred with her desire to comfort the man before her. All of the thoughts and feelings swelled up in her throat, making it impossible for her to speak. So instead she slowly nodded her head against Bradie’s shoulder, smearing tears over the shoulder of his shirt.

“Okay,” she croaked. “For you.” The two sat quietly for a moment, enjoying the comfort of being near each other. However much they desired to spend the rest of the day cuddling like this, both new that the real world would soon be calling. Sitting up, Tally wiped her face off with her sleeve and glanced at the clock. “And now I have made you late. So sorry.”

“Nah, I’ll still be there on time. I’ve got no copies to make and probably very few children there today, so no need to get there early. What are you up to today?”

"Nothing special, I hope. Probably spend a little time straightening up and then most of the day working on my book. Hopefully I can get a chapter done before we leave tomorrow. Since I worked last night, I should be a 'last resort' call but we know how that goes sometimes."

"Well, I hope you have a quiet day of writing because no matter what happens, tomorrow will be a day to remember." Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her cheek then headed to the door. "Remember to use your powers for good, not evil," Bradie called out as he walked through the doorway.

“Very funny,” she yelled as the door closed behind him. “It’s not me you have to worry about."

Collecting the breakfast dishes from off the table, Talaleigh carried them to the sink and began to clean them, losing herself in the routine of dipping her hands in and out of the  hot, soapy water. Her mind drifted to her family and what might be awaiting her tomorrow. The prospect of introducing the one she loved to her family should be thrilling since it is proof of how committed Bradie and her are to one another. However, the fact that she cannot even begin to imagine how her family will behave in front of her boyfriend was making her incredibly anxious.

How long has it been since I went home, she thought as she placed one of the dishes in the drainer. It has been at least a year, if not longer. I mean mom and dad did come visit me here in the spring. So I have seen them just haven’t visited them. And they haven't met Bradie yet even though I promised them we would stop by a month or two ago. But things have been crazy between work and Bradie hardly gets any long breaks until the November/December time frame. And I did see Axel last month but God knows that was anything but enjoyable...

Anger rushed through her veins at the thought of her younger brother. The brother that she always put first. The brother who she sacrificed her free time to take to friends' houses and after school activities. The brother she practically raised. The brother who turned his back on her.

She slammed the pot in her hand down into the sink, sending a spray of bubbles and water over the wall and her shirt. “Damn him,” she ground out as she flexed her hands over and over, trying to release the fury boiling under her skin. “I swear if he does anything to ruin this holiday he will regret it.”

A shrill chime echoed through the room, dragging Tally out of her pensive state and back into the real world.. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” she groaned as she dried her hands on a dish cloth before heading back to the table to grab her phone. 

“Hello? Yes, it is her. No,.. see I worked last night and have the marks to prove it. Got tangled up with… no, the pun was not intended! Yes, I’m fine but..look! I don’t mean to be short or sound disagreeable but I have a life too and there are other people who can handle this. I mean what's the point of having a union if you are going to keep calling up the same people all the time. So unless you can explain to me why it is so important for me specifically to be there, I am hanging up and turning the phone on silent.” 

The speaker on the phone had to say only three words before she interrupted him with a brusque “I’ll be there in fifteen” and ended the call. “Eff my life,” she grumbled as she threw the phone onto the sofa while heading into the bedroom to change into her costume.

When Bradie joked with her about “using her powers for good”, it wasn’t actually a joke. For the past year Talaleigh has been working as the superhero Safeguard, and she has just been called onto another assignment.

#story #writing #superhero #mysterynovel