#and I see them again this week as well so that’ll be something

[neon-danger]

Hey friend just popping in to say I hope you are well and to let you know I really miss your stories. Your updates give me so much serotonin

Hey sorry I’ve just had a lot on my plate recently with personal issues and health issues. I am writing just not nearly as frequently as I’d like and I really am sorry for that.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[badjokesbyjeff]

There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 

the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.

one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.

"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."

the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"

bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.

over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.

"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.

a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"

that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."

"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.

a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.

at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.

"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.

a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.

"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."

"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."

over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."

"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."

"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."

"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -

right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.

"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.

ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"

[angllicjk]

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒂 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ #𝟏

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Choreographer Major!Jungkook X Rich Ballerina!(fem)Reader

Mini Series!!

Strangers to lovers! Au

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: In which Jungkook is so enamored with the pretty Ballerina he gets glimpses of dancing in the studio across from him when he’s practicing.

A/N: back with something finally!. I hope you all enjoy this lil bit of the Drabble series I’m starting. I’m really excited for it. Originally I wanted to make this a full length one shot but I decided to turn it into a Drabble series in stead cuz why not lol. Also the more I write for this new couple the more I’m getting attached & will want to continue writing more for them.

The best thing about transferring over to this royal academy of fine arts was not only because Jungkook can finally take his dancing more seriously, but also because he gets to look at pretty things everyday and by that, what he really means is the pretty little thing currently stretching before practice in the cutest pink bodysuit. A ruched sweetheart neckline and a small satin bow in the middle, mesh skirt to match that flows nicely with every move made.

So adorable.

It hadn’t even been a full week in yet since he started here but you’ve already quite captured his heart.

In the middle of his five minute break, he’s currently downing a bottle of cold water, but watching you twirl about and move effortlessly in the studio across from him. Jungkook realizes that his thirst is not entirely quenched and water isn’t merely enough to satiate it.

As much as he’s heard about you. The spoiled nepo princess who comes from a family born with old money that’ll last future generations a lifetime. Out of touch. Off limits. Stuck up prude. Too good for anyone. He’s only interested in getting to know you. Not the one people have told him about all around. Although, he hasn’t so much as said a word to you nor properly introduced himself yet, but Jungkook knows that you’ve caught on to him and the way he watches you, has an inkling that you secretly like it.

The little timid smiles you try to hide when you notice him staring a little too long in class or when you catch him watching you stretch before practice starts with a slightly annoyed look. He doesn’t bother hiding it either. Jungkook likes to tease and he likes the little attention you give him as well. He’s caught you once or twice stealing a glance at him when he’s going shirtless during practice.

It’s cute. You’re really cute.

It’s almost a month of this. Stealing glances, your pretty smiles he barely gets glimpses of and even faux irritated eye rolls he finds absolutely adorable. Lingering gazes from across the ways and brushing against your touch in between passes down the halls. It gets jam packed sometimes as students are struggling to get to class but he doesn’t mind the struggle that much. Not when Jungkook purposely squeezes up against you and he fucking loves to see your small and gorgeous self trying not to melt under his stare from above as he passes through, oh so slowly. And it’s not until a random Thursday evening does Jungkook finally hear your lovely saccharine voice that sounds like his forever favorite song.

“You know, it’s quite rude to stare.” Having caught him watching you once again from the entrance of the studio you're currently practicing in, you slowly walk your way up to him, crossing your arms.

“I was admiring you, pretty things should always be appreciated.” His lips curl into an attractive smile and the sight of him leaning against the door frame with muscular bare arms crossed over his broad and buff chest nearly has you in awe of how fine of a specimen he absolutely is. He’s glistening with sweat, hairline, neck and chest. No doubt having just finished his own dance practice. The white tank he’s clad in sticks to his upper body almost like a second skin and the gray sweats hanging low on his hips just add on to the flutters in the pit of your stomach and traveling down south.

You bite back a smile, keeping a neutral look as you level him with a narrowed stare. There’s no need to be getting flustered or nervous in front of a guy like him. Although you absolutely are on the inside, but of course he doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh, was that really what you were doing?.”

As you come to a stop in front of him, you say with a raised brow in questioning. His gaze falls to your glossed pink lips, looking so soft and scrumptious. Jungkook can only imagine how they’d feel against his own and he licks his lips at the mere thought of such. The apples of your cheeks have a dusted pink to them he thinks looks cute on you. The light glam makeup you’re wearing is pretty but it’s not needed, he thinks. You’re effortlessly gorgeous, he could stare at you all day long and never tire or be bored.

“You know it can be pretty creepy, especially coming from a stranger.”

He doesn’t move an inch nor does his unwavering gaze with you falter, piercing into your being like he’s trying to dig deep into your soul.

“Is that so?. Hmm.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the door frame so suddenly and steps up to you as you have. He’s so close that it prompts you to take a step back, but he’s quick to follow closely once more and the intensity of his stare pins you to your spot, unmoving. His aura and the dominance he exudes is overpowering. Your own resolve is waning, cracking at the seams. Fuck, do you not have it together anymore like you initially thought and you’ve barely even met the guy.

“I know you like it when I watch you, princess.” The corners of his lips tug up into a full blown teasing grin and he tilts his head, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he watches you for a moment. As if he’s got you all figured out.

“When I have my eyes on you. I see the way you smile to yourself when you think I’m not looking and don’t think I don’t notice the little shows you put on for me when you do your stretches. Especially when you do them with your partner.”

A breathy hitch escapes you, heart rate spiking and feeling a bit embarrassed at being called out like this, but you both know it’s true. You’re not exactly subtle yourself when you give him something extra to look at when he’s watching.

Jungkook takes another step closer, this time fully invading your space as he leans in to whisper in your ear for you to hear his next words very clearly. The whiff of his sweat mixed with a light fresh jasmine musk(most likely his cologne) fills your nostrils and oh how you can’t help but to slightly inhale how nice he still smells, even after practice.

“I’ll have you know, I can stretch you out the way you need in more ways than I’ve seen these past few weeks, princess.”

The deep velvety tone of his voice sends tingles down your spine and he starts a heat below you almost can't think straight. Nearly moaning at the words he speaks and Jungkook catches note of the tiny whimper you tried to keep inside. He smiles widely, licking his lips at the sweet sound of it.

It excites him and strokes his ego a bit to know you’re affected by him just as much as he’s affected by you and what you do to him. Pretty doll like you will be the death of him. Oh how he knows it.

Your heart is beating rapidly and it just might burst out of your chest with how hard it pounds. You think he might be able to hear it with how close he is to you.

The sudden bell ringing throughout the studio has you startled and you back away from him immediately. Jungkook takes his sweet time walking his way backwards and watching you a bit longer as he does so.

He likes the sight of you a cute flustered mess and he thinks he should make you one more often for all the teasing you’ve been doing.

“Well, you should probably get to class and by the way, I’m Jungkook. Nice officially meeting you princess.”

With one last smile he turns around and enters the hall, mixing in amongst students getting to their next class.

The second he’s gone you exhale a deep breath, hand on your forehead rubbing at your temple with your mind still running a mile a minute trying to process what just transpired between the two of you.

The both of you finally talked. The new and cute dancer you’ve been silently crushing on upon his arrival called you pretty. His name is Jungkook and he may be into you just as much as you’re into him?.

“What the absolute fuck…”

౨ৎ — hope you enjoyed! let me know your thoughts as well, I’d love to read them 🫶🏻

[runnning-outof-time]

Can I request John and "Did you even miss me?" Congrats on 3.5k!

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Wasn’t Expecting You

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 707

Summary: After being away for weeks, John decides to surprise his wife. She becomes so surprised by him that her reaction isn’t what he was expecting.

“You really don’t know how much longer they’ll be away for?” (Y/N) asked Ada as they both took their seats in the front room of (Y/N)’s home.

“I don’t,” Ada answered with a slight frown and a shake of her head. “Tommy never gives an exact timeline, and Arthur and John just follow along with it.”

“That explains why he won’t say anything when he calls me,” (Y/N) sighed, looking down at her lap.

“They’ll be home soon enough,” Ada assured her, her lips pursed in a tight smile, “and then they’ll become our problems again.”

(Y/N) giggled at the second half of her sister-in-law’s statement. She had to agree - things were much calmer when the boys were out of town.

“So…how have things been around here lately?” Ada asked once they were finished laughing.

“They’ve been grand. This place is finally starting to feel like a home,” (Y/N) answered, her smile wide as she looked around the room.

“Everything looks lovely,” Ada answered, her eyes focused on something behind (Y/N). The other woman just figured she was looking at some of the decorations behind her. She saw her smile widen just as someone else spoke out.

“I’ve brought the booze!” a third voice entered the conversation. Ada’s expression switched on a dime and she rolled her eyes at the statement.

(Y/N) didn’t get time to question it because someone had swooped in beside her to place a set of glasses down on the coffee table. She couldn’t make out much, just that the person was wearing a brown suit. Ada was also looking at her expectantly now. “I don’t think we needed booze…?” she hesitantly questioned, her brows furrowed.

Ada had to hold back her laughter. “Have you not noticed who that is?” she asked seconds later.

“Huh?” (Y/N) was confused now. Ada nodded her head at the person. So she turned to look up at him. “Oh…John?”

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he answered, his usual cheshire cat-like grin present. “Not the welcome home I was expectin’ though…did you even miss me?”

Something clicked in (Y/N)’s mind as he was speaking. She jumped up from the couch as quickly as she could and threw her arms around his frame. “Of course I missed you! We were just talking about you coming home,” she said to him as she held onto his body tightly. A wide smile was present on her face when she pulled away. “I just…I looked quick and thought you were Finn or something,” she sheepishly explained her previous lack of excitement.

Her statement made John snort. “Finn? Now that’s a fuckin’ insult!” he exclaimed, his still present grin showing that he was teasing her.

“Oh shut up, John,” she jokingly huffed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped grin, one that she couldn’t hold up a straight face to. Her grin grew as she buried her face into his chest.

“No, darling, I wanna see that beautiful smile of yours,” he said, coaxing her to lift her head once more, “been too long since I’ve seen it.”

“Been too long since you’ve kissed me as well…” she trailed off, a knowing look in her eyes.

“You make a good point,” he agreed with her, tucking his fingers under her chin so that he could guide her lips to his. They shared a sweet kiss before a voice broke them apart.

“That’ll be my cue to go,” Ada announced, standing from her chair so that she could grab her things.

“Thanks for coming over, Ada,” (Y/N) smiled at the woman as she made her way to the door. The two ladies said their goodbyes before John got the attention of his wife again.

“You really thought I was Finn?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, but…Finn?” he emphasized his little brother’s name as mock-disgust filled his time.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again, will you?” she dismissed his question, taking hold of his cheeks then so that she could bring his lips to hers once more.

*tagging in reblog so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Y/n finds it difficult already living in one of the most hated towns, but imagine her shock when Shadyside’s very own Sunset Curve's frontman and high school band percussionist takes a liking to her.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): some fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,743

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Alive!Luke Patterson x fem!Reader, Deena Johnson x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Shadyside, 1994.

“Hey come check out our gig this Friday, it’s gonna be a night to remember!” Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby handed out T-shirts and their demo to a few classmates. Luke patted the back of some of them for encouragement.

“Sunset Curve, that’s us!” Alex pointed at himself. Then put his head down.

“Tell your friends, okay!” Reggie winked at a few girls who blushed.

“Hey, are you doing anything this Friday?” Bobby left the group and joined a group of girls who giggled at his approach.

“Guys I can’t wait for this week’s gig! I can barely even focus on class.” Luke stopped at his locker to take out an empty notebook and pencil for his next class.

“You don’t even pay attention regardless…” Alex called him out.

“Yeah well…I’m-“ Luke scratched his head trying to come up with something to say.

“-Excited.” Reggie started.

“-and can’t stop reminding everyone about Friday…” Alex gave him a pointed look.

“Okay, okay. I get it, I’ll shut up.” Luke laughed, hitting them playfully. “But come on guys, this gig could be our big break for us. Imagine all the record execs and the labels that’ll want to sign us. This could be huge!”

“Well, until then we have a math test to get to.” Alex reminded them.

“Shit that was today?” Luke began panicking. “No, no, no.”

“We have a test? I thought that wasn't until next week” Reggie’s eyes grew wide.

"Today is next week." Alex shook his head, as he took his notebook out of his bag.

“I’m screwed.” Luke's arms flopped to his sides. “My mom already got onto me for skipping classes, if I get another bad grade…” He sighed. “This is the start of a bad day boys.” He grew annoyed but then did a complete 180 when he saw you. “Did I say bad day? I meant my day just got a whole lot better now that I’ve been blessed by the sight that is Y/n Y/L/N!” Luke bit his lip as he called after you. You walked by him and the guys in the hallway. “Hey Y/n, has anyone told you today you look beautiful?” Luke leaned against his locker and nudged his chin up at you. You were on the other side of the hallway opening your locker. You rolled your eyes and turned around.

“Fuck you, Luke!” You scoffed at his attempts to get at you again.

“Well if you’re offering, then by all means lead the way-“ He walked over to you and leaned against the locker next to yours.

“Keep dreaming…” You laughed and shoved him away.

“I will.” He smiled at you and stared at you with a glint in his eyes.

It was like a staring contest, trying to see who’d break first to have the upper hand. That’s how it’s always been between you two. A contest to see who could resist the other person’s charms and flirtatious attempts. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes. Luke did a little victory dance in his head. He truly felt lucky that he could hold your attention. Work you up to make you smile just a little bit longer at him. Crack a stupid joke to hear your affectionous laugh. Tell you how truly beautiful you looked just to watch that little glint in your eyes appear. It made his stomach swirl of butterflies….butterflies were cool. 

Not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

He let you switch out your textbooks in peace before opening his mouth to tell you about Friday.

“Hey, so I was wondering-“ He scratched the back of his head.

“Move!”

You looked up right as Deena came through and shoved the brunette out of the way. Luke looked stunned. The push had him stumble backward a bit. Gravity defied him, so he fell on his ass in front of everyone in the hallway. He got up trying to play it cool. Yet you could see a snip of his pride melt away. You bit back a laugh as your eyes flicker between Deena switching out a notebook from her locker next to yours and Luke scowling at her.

“Hey, Deena.” You smiled at her.

She stopped what she was doing and gave you her attention. 

“Hey.” She stuttered. Luke had been forgotten about for a second. “Ready for the test today?”

“I can’t decide if I want to hurl or faint. Mr. Delancey always adds a bonus question to throw us off, and I don’t know if I can remember the circumference of a circle.” You joked.

“I’m sure you’re gonna do great…did my notes help?” Deena bit her lip.

“They did actually-“ You swung your bag around to the front of you and pulled out her notebook.

“Thanks again for letting me borrow them.”

“It was no problem…anything to help.” You met her eyes as she slowly took the notebook back.

Once Luke was at your side again you turned to face him and slapped the side of his shoulder playfully. “You okay there?” Luke could hear the pitch in your tone switch. You were picking on him.

“What? That? It was nothing…” He shrugged it off. “Deena and I joke around like that all the time.” He laughed, then proceeded to hit her shoulder with his own. “Right, Deena?” Deena fell into the lockers with a slight thud. You winced. She looked about ready to kill him. You laughed nervously. Luke and Deena stared each other down. You wanted the tension between them to dissolve so you opted to drop your notebooks on the ground. The two turned away from each other and peered to the floor then you pretended to have clumsily dropped your stuff. Luke immediately bent down to retrieve your notebook while Deena collected the few pens that rolled away.

The two stood to their feet handing you your belongings. 

“T-Thanks.” Your hands brushed against Deenas first. Then you turned towards Luke, his fingertips purposely curling under your palm, letting his touch linger. “T-Thanks.” God, you swore your heart was pounding in your ears. How did anyone handle a crush let alone two? 

You could almost hear a pin drop before they broke the silence.

“You coming to the concert this Friday-”

“You going to the game on Friday-”

Oh boi.

You straightened up as the two turned their heads at each other confused.

“Yeah!” You blurted out without a second thought.

“Yeah, you’ll be at the concert?” Luke pointed at himself.

“-Or yeah you’ll be at the football game?” Deena pointed to herself.

You froze, your eyes growing. You swallowed down your anxiety slowly building up. You were about to open your mouth but got saved by the bell.

“Thank god…” You sighed in relief only to realize they heard you say it out loud. You opened your eyes to see them waiting for your answer. “I-uh. Math!” You pointed past them and sped off like your life depended on it. “Oh my god what is wrong with you?” You muttered under your breath to yourself.

Luke watched you walk away with furrowed brows before turning over to Deena who was closing her locker shut.

“Since when did you fancy, Y/L/N?” He eyed her up and down crossing his arms over his chest.

“Since she kissed me underneath the bleachers behind the football field.” She smirked watching his ego dying.

“No way. Seriously?”

“No! Don’t you have a math test to fail?” She shoved past him, walking off to the class you all shared for the third period.

“Deena wait.” He held her arm, making her halt.

“What?” She sighed, waiting for him to continue.

He saw right through the wall she was putting up. He knew about her first girlfriend Sam, though things didn’t seem to work out. Yet he guessed Deena moved on considering she had been trying to gain your attention for weeks now, just as he was trying his hardest. She looked back down towards the door you entered.

“Holy shit! You’re serious. You like her.”

“No, I just wanna use her for notes. No shit, Sherlock. She’s amazing, can you blame a girl?” Deena shrugged.

“That’s gonna be a problem for me?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…cause I like her too.”

She found him trying to be intimidating, amusing. “Do you want a gold star or something?” She crossed her arms.

“No, but I want to ask her out.”

“So do I.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” He suggested.

“How about…” She paused and reached into her flannel. She brought her hand out and directed her middle finger at him. The huge smile on her face made Luke roll his eyes. “How about this though, we just play it daily until Friday to see who she’s interested in. She’ll either show up to the concert or the game and then we’ll see who she likes. No bitching, no complaining.”

“Okay, okay, I can work with that.” He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure about it.

“You sure?”

“Yeah…for sure.” He nodded.

“Okay, burnout. See ya in math.” She smirked at him. She shoved a slip of paper into his chest and walked off to class. Luke brought his hand up to his chest to catch the slip of paper. He turned it over and chuckled. He looked up in time to see Deena at the other end of the hall. It was a cheat sheet. “Thanks!” She only responded by throwing a thumbs up in the air. He heard the final warning bell go off, as he picked up his book bag. He hurried up and entered the class as Mr. Delancey was just about to shut the door. He gave the man a small smile before taking his usual spot behind you towards the back. He smiled as he watched you go over your notes. Your foot tapped lightly against the ground. He knew how stressed you got when it came to the test. He almost felt bad for pulling you out of your thoughts, but he gently tapped his finger against your left shoulder. Without even turning around, you automatically rested a pencil on your shoulder for him to grab. He bit his lip to prevent a smile from breaking out.

“Thank you, beautiful.” He whispered. You hummed in response, then got back to going over your notes before Mr. Delancey told everyone to put their things away.

[skulla-rxcks]

A wolfs puppies

Paring: werewolf!chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: cr3ampie, breedlng

Day 31 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: sorta pt2 of werewolf in heat, it’s not needed to read it but you’ll understand what’s happening better if you do :)

P.s; i’m afraid kinktober has come to an end, thank you for all the new supporters and all of the reads on my stuff throughout this month, as much as it’s been tiring for me, i’m really fucking thankful for all of you <3

It’s been a while since I’ve been in the woods, after what happened last time I mean; a whole fucking werewolf fucked me against a tree, definitely something that wouldn’t happen on a daily day basis, hell. I didn’t even believe in myths like werewolves before then. Maybe I should go back and see how he’s doing, If I remember correctly Chan was his name.

Anyways I should probably head off now, maybe I’ll bring him some food too? Maybe I’ll meet others like him sometime. I sigh going to my fridge and grabbing a chunk of cooked beef, he’d eat that right? Either way, I slip on my boots and exit my house, as I shut the door I think about why the fuck am I going out at like 12AM again, but whatever I guess, it’s a full moon tonight so hopefully that’ll up my chances of him showing up.

I made my way to the path once again and begin to walk down it, a smile forming on my face as I see the familiar trees get closer and closer to me. I continue to walk down the pavement until I reach the lake, taking a seat on the log before frantically looking around if I can find the strange creature from about a week ago.

The stars are brighting so I pay my attention to them as I’m waiting for the man/werewolf thing to come out of the shadows. It doesn’t take long until I hear a rustle in the bushes, followed along with someone tapping my shoulder.

“Oh, you’re back” a voice says to me, I turn around. It’s Chan, it’s really him. “Y-yeah I uhm, wanted to see how you were doing.” I stutter as my cheeks become visibly flustered.

“Ah, I’m not too bad myself, what about you?” He replies. As I’m thinking of an answer I pull the slab of meat out from my bag and hand it to him. “I’m okay, t-this is for you, I sort of have an idea what you’ll eat but I also don’t..” I turn my head embarrassed.

“Oh thank you~ of course I’ll eat anything from you.” The creature smirks. “So why did you come here this late again? It’s pretty dangerous for a girl to be walking alone in the woods, or perhaps.. you wanted something from me” Chan whispers into my ear before pulling away to see my bright red face.

“I.. I told you, I just.. wanted to see how you’ve been and if you want anything else from me..” a splash of fear and lust runs through my veins, also being visible on my face too.

“Hmm? Only that? Fucking boring, well may I at least one thing. Has your body recovered from me breaking your pretty little cunt yet..?” He grins, taking my hands in his.

“C-chan.. why are you asking?” I question, feeling my cunt grow wet as I drip down my thighs.

“Because I want to fuck you again. I want to breed you, fill you with my puppies and claim you as mine.” He responds boldly with no hesitation at all, making me gasp in shock as I feel my body growing weak due to the slutty words he’s saying to me.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you felt around me. Please, may I?” Chan asks me, I nod in response letting the strange werewolf begin to strip me of my clothes, he unbuttons my jeans and slides my panties off, taking my shirt and bra off slowly after, he licks his lips at the sight of my tits, wanting to touch me, wanting to fuck me, but most importantly; Wanting to pleasure me until I can’t take it anymore.

“Channie… please.” Whimpers fell out of my mouth as he begins to make circular motions with his fingers around my clit, making me buck my hips for more. “Patience baby doll.” Chan chuckles, moving his head down between my thighs and taking my swollen clit In into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. “Mmgh.. more.. I need you inside of me..” I cry out. He thrusts two fingers into my cunt slowly changing the speed and pressure of the thrusts. “There you go, I’m inside of you now”

“N-no..” I whine. “No?”

“Dick.. I want your dick.. I need your cock in me..” I plead, needing more of him so fucking badly.

“You whine so fucking much..” he growls, positioning his tip at my opening before slowly pushing me open, I let out an airy gasp as he does so. It’s almost like I’ve forgotten how thick his cock is. “B-big” I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist as he begins to pound in and out of my tight, wet hole, stretching it really fucking good. Way better than last time we did this. “Yeah fuck.. god you’re such a good girl.” He praises me, this thrusts getting more and more rougher than ever before, making me squeal out in pleasure. “Shh” he chuckles, connecting his lips to mine making our mouths dance together, as well as our tongues.

“Chan..~” I moan into the kiss, feeling myself get tighter as I drive closer towards my orgasm, hoping he also is. “Mm, I wanna fill your pretty hole with my pups..” Chan teases, pulling away from the kiss to watch my face as he’s fucking me good, making my body into his property. “Please.. please” I answer him, wanting him to feel me with his seed until I can’t take anymore. “Yeah? You wanna get filled with my cum until you take all of my puppies?” He teases, a chuckle escaping his mouth as he hears how god damn eager I am for him to thoroughly breed my cunt until his balls are dead empty from spilling all of his semen inside of my hole. “Yes.. yes please, give me your babies.. please Chan..” I beg again, tears beginning to swell up in my eyes from how badly I want this.

“Mm, I’m gonna fill you up. You ready babes?” He smirks, holding my body still holding himself from releasing as he waits for my answer. “M-mhm, do it.. I want to carry your puppies.” I cry out, my pussy tightening around his cock as he finally, fills me up with his seed, not pulling out until he’s certain that all of it’s gone into my womb. I climax not long after, my nails scraping into his back as I cum around him. “Do you wanna come back to mine for a bit? So we’re out of this shitty looking forest?” I ask, blushing. “Of course babes.”

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 65)

Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (11) / Lucy Bronze x Reader (55)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Join our WOSO Discord chat! Link in bio :)

((** 4.6k**))

Mostly Leah and Jordan :)

Leah POV

“I didn’t wake you, did I? I completely blanked… you stopped replying and I didn’t even think.” Leah stressed as she drove.

“No, no, you’re all good. I’m a little too wound up to sleep for long until Luce gets home, I think. I’m just waiting for the next shoe to drop with this whole drama.”

“Is Ridley still there?”

“She left after I fell asleep, she has some meetings in town.”

“So you were asleep?”

“Barely… it’s okay. It’s probably a good thing you have someone to talk to for your drive…” She cleared her throat and yawned. “Oh shit, did you see Beth scored a brace?”

“No?! I was there for her first. First one back since her ACL, I was crying.”

“That’ll be you soon, mate.”

“Not this year,” she almost grumbled.

“Oh? January?” YFN’s tired voice piped up with excitement for her.

“I’m hoping so. I feel bad for leaving – I should be there to celebrate with Beth after the game.”

“Okay stop right there, that’s your anxiety talking. Beth knows that you needed to do go.” YFN’s support calmed Leah, and she knew she’d called the exact right person.

“Yeah… wait, did you speak to her?”

“I’m always chatting with the girls. A few of them are coming over after the game actually. It was last minute. I think Kyra got excited when she saw Lucy and invited herself and-”

“-and the rest of the girls jumped on board?”

“Something like that,” she laughed wearily. “So it’s a good thing I’m awake because I need to organise some food for when they get here.”

“Don’t you go over-exerting yourself mate.”

“Pfft, I’ve spent the last week laying or sitting… I’m happy to hop around and stretch my leg.”

Leah laughed at the way she’d said that. Her one leg. “You’ll have two legs next week!”

“Hopefully the doctor’s okay with me walking on it. I get to switch from a wheelchair to sexy walking stick. I really hope it’s okay enough to because I’m worried about Luce’s knee when she carries me everywhere.”

“Not surprised. Has her knee been acting up?”

“At the risk of getting her in trouble with her England Captain… yes. It’s been a bit swollen and I can tell it’s giving her pain. She tries to hide it.”

“She’ll never admit it’s sore, especially while you’re still healing.”

“I know, she’s a pain. I’ve been massaging it and insisting she ice it, though. She and Alexia have been working out and training together, so I just hope she’s being careful.”

Leah heard the worry in her voice and it made her think about Jordan. She was never nervous to watch anyone play… except Jordan. She couldn’t bear to watch her be pushed around. She was only small, after all.

“She’s been through this a lot, YFN. She knows her limits better than anyone I know. She’ll definitely be looking after herself.” Leah reassured her.

“Mmn. I know you’re right; I just worry.”

“Well let me distract you then. I spoke to Jill and Alex and they’re both excited for the podcast idea. They said you’ve been chatting with them?”

“Not as much as I’ve wanted to because of this drama, but yeah I’ve chatted to them a few times over the week. Alex is coming over tomorrow to talk a bit more about it all, and we’ll catch up with Jill when we go to Manchester next week.”

“Oh? Lucy’s missing home?”

“Always. Missing home and family so we’re going to see them.”

“When will you be back? I’m happy to do my interview whenever.”

She heard her clicking on what was potentially her laptop. “Uh… so next week I have pencilled in to bring a few of the girls into the office and do some interviews there.”

“Didn’t work out at your house?”

“Oh, no it definitely did,” she yawned again. “I figured it would build morale of my staff to meet some players, and we’ve set up a big studio there for content… and there’s a wall I’d like you all to sign.”

“A wall?”

“Just a little side-project of mine,” she chuckled. “It’ll make sense when you see it. Viv’s just been subbed on.”

“What minute?”

“Eighty-second.”

“Looks like overtime?”

“I missed most of the game but maybe three to five minutes.”

“A good ten minutes at least then. She’s been dying to stretch her legs out there.”

“They’re long enough.”

Leah laughed. She was glad she’d called her; their conversation was calming her at almost the same rate that she became more anxious as she got closer to Villa Park. YFN must have noticed.

“Are you far out?”

“Thirty minutes out. I was thinking of stopping and getting her some flowers. What do you think?”

“Well she loves flowers. I think she’d really like that Leah…” Her voice softened. “Just remember what I told you about when she sees you.”

Leah nodded even though she knew she couldn’t see it. ‘You watch her face when she sees you, Leah. In that first split second that it takes to recover her expression… you’ll see everything she’s feeling.’

This is why Leah thought she was so nervous. What if she was angry she hadn’t told her… or showing how heartbroken she still was? It would hurt, but Leah knew she’d accept whatever came her way, as it was all her own doing. She just wanted her, and their life back – though only if Jordan wanted that too.

“I will.”

“Are you sitting close to the benches?”

“Right near them in the family and friends’ section, yeah.” She didn’t know if she was imagining her voice wavering, or if it actually was.

“She’s going to be excited to see you, mate. I promise.”

Leah arrived just in time for the girls to exit the tunnel, having been delayed in the flower shop procrastinating over which was the best for her. She put it in the back seat of her black Mercedes, right next to the toy she’d bought for Blu.

She couldn’t believe how nervous she was, and YFN was right there with her, on the phone and then texting back and forth with her after they’d hung up. She knew she was busy with the Arsenal and West Ham girls dropping by, but she still made time for her. A few weeks ago, Leah would have thought she was doing it for Jordan’s sake, but she’d gotten so close to the Australian that she knew it was for hers also.

She sat in her assigned seat, saying a polite hello to the people she knew, and felt herself almost hyperventilate when Jordan entered the pitch in the starting line-up. She’d never had this reaction to her – or anyone before. It confused her, but at the same time, it made her realise just how much she meant to her. Jordan was looking too small for her clothes as always, her shorts and socks almost reaching each other. She wore that expression she did when she was on the pitch, her serious face. Football was serious for Jordan, and that was evident by just how aggressive and impatient she was on the pitch; a sharp contrast to what she was usually like in person. So sweet and kind and shy almost. Her Jordan. She felt her body tingling and her hands shake a little as she watched her taking their line-up photos and start to play.

Leah’s phone dinged and she looked down.

YFN: A bit of a healthy distraction for you.

YFN sent a photo.

YFN sent a photo.

The first was a photo of the group who’d invaded Lucy and YFN’s house. YFN had obviously asked Lucy to take a selfie of the group as they were all doing strange poses to the camera mid eating or talking, standing and sitting. Most of the Arsenal girls were there, along with half of the West Ham team. She grinned at the photo.

The second was a photo obviously taken from YFN’s position on the couch, pointing at Beth who was showing two fingers, Katie hanging off her with a ‘COME ON’ expression for Beth’s brace.

YFN’s efforts to distract her from herself were definitely working.

Leah: You’re not getting sleep anytime soon. *melting face emoji*

YFN: My bigger concern is that I didn’t order enough for a fucking tribe.

Leah chuckled. The girls were always extra hungry after games. She should have warned her. She looked up to see the ball nowhere near Jordan, and looked back down again to reply.

Leah: Why do I feel like I’m going to get home, and the party will still be going?

She looked back up to see Jordan crash into someone. She touched the ball, but was still warned by the referee and threw her hands up. That made her smile. That is… after she’d stood up and she knew she was okay.

Her phone buzzed.

YFN: Come 9pm I’ll be dragging them out kicking

YFN: That was Lucy ^^ but she’s not joking. *nervous laugh emoji*

YFN: She gets grumpy when she’s tired.

Leah knew that all too well, having been in many camps with Lucy.

Leah: She’s worse when she’s hungry!

YFN: I’ve learnt to sort that out before it becomes a problem.

YFN sent a photo.

It was a selfie of YFN sitting in the corner of the couch and angled up to Lucy not so elegantly stuffing her face. Regardless of Lucy’s full mouth, YFN looked at her with an expression of adoration. They looked so happy. Leah craved that happiness she’d once had with Jordan. For seven years they were the envy of the party and sitting in the stands now, watching her play from afar, she cursed herself for taking that… for taking her for granted.

She put her phone down to watch her play, again adoring the way Jordan jogged after whoever had the ball, her shorts almost falling off of her, and then attacking the players with the ball whenever she was close. It was evident just how much she loved the game. And as if all of that wasn’t adorable enough, she wore black gloves to fight the cold she felt. There wasn’t much to her, so she was always cold. Their house always needed to be hot enough that she didn’t feel the cold, but Leah had always sneakily liked to have it just the perfect temperature that she’d snuggle into her as they slept or tuck herself into her body on the couch or as she just went about her day. She too loved their hugs, just as much as Jordan. The way she fit into her body was like it was made for her. Jordan was so affectionate that she’d always kiss her neck in thanks.

Not recently of course. Recently there had been the soft hugs without the kissing, and without the talking. It was nice, but she missed all of it.

Jordan was knocked to the ground hard as she went for the ball and Leah flinched, leaning to the edge of her seat to get a better view. When Jordan didn’t get up straight away, she stood with several of the crowd and watched worriedly. As more people stood, she was up on her tip-toes to peer over everyone to see Jordan clutching her knee and the medics run over. Her heart sunk.

The teams used the opportunity to chat while she was being seen to, her face contorting in pain. Leah didn’t want to admit to herself that the smallest part of her wanted something to be wrong so she’d have time off and Leah could look after her. She felt so ashamed and shoved the thought aside as her other feeling took hold. ‘Not the knee,’ she thought. ‘Please not the knee. Get up Jord. Please get up.’

Someone tried to get her attention and she brushed them off, her eyes only on Jordan. The medics helped for several minutes until Jordan was standing again and hobbling across the pitch. She wanted to stay on.

Of course she did. She loved playing football.

They stopped for half time an even nil score, and Leah waited for Jordan to look up and see her as she wandered towards the tunnel, but she didn’t. To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. She let herself mingle with the people around her who she knew, and fifteen minutes later, the girls were re-entering the pitch. Jordan hadn’t been subbed, which was great, and although it wasn’t yet dark, it was even colder and she couldn’t help but stress about her getting sick. It was raining now, and so cold she could see her breath as she jogged back out. Her knee looked to be okay though, which was a good sign.

The first goal came in the 54th minute by an unfortunate own goal from Aston Villa’s Anna Patten. Jordan looked frustrated as she shook her head and jogged back to her spot.

It only took a minute for Rachel Daly to score an equaliser, Leah smiling as she watched Jordan jump and shout excitedly, though she didn’t run to celebrate with her team. There was something different about watching her with Villa. Leah had noticed watching Jordan’s games that she didn’t look as happy when she celebrated with Villa, and she’d always wondered if she was just biased, though seeing her not celebrate with them made her realise she wasn’t imagining it. She remembered the giant grin on her face as she used to run and jump into their group when she celebrated with Arsenal. She was always so light that Leah could barely feel her as she ran and jumped onto her.

Oh, Jord. She missed seeing her at training every day. But it wasn’t even that. As she watched her, she missed living together, driving in together, training together, going home together. They’d always sit next to each other when travelling and share hotel rooms.

She was ripped from her thoughts by Jordan stealing the ball in a clean move. She smiled. The game was back and forth pretty even following that, though Aston Villa were controlling the ball more. They just couldn’t seem to get past the Everton defence. It started raining heavier and Leah pulled her coat tighter around her. A penalty kick to Everton in the 74th minute had Jordan throwing her arms up again in frustration. The kick came… and it was a goal. It wasn’t looking good.

Three minutes later, Jordan was subbed off. She walked off looking defeated, though as she high-fived her subbed teammate at the boundary line, her head raised as if she knew she was there. Mid high-five her eyes caught Leah’s and she froze. Leah stopped breathing as she watch Jordan’s eyes widen with… yearning. Her eyes reflected the emotions Leah felt. Jordan recovered her expression and looked at the substitute, dropping her hands. As she stepped off the field, she let herself look back up with wonder. She could see the happiness in her eyes that she was there. Leah gave her a smile and a wave. Jordan didn’t wave back, but she did smile shyly as she ducked onto the bench where she could no longer see her.

Only then, could Leah breathe again. YFN was right. That surprised expression from Jordan had showed her everything. She wanted her, just as much as Leah did. She breathed a deep breath out and the built up anxiety disappeared with it. She should have never been worried. She knew Jordan.

The game ended 1-2 to Everton, and Leah stood in the stands until the girls disappeared into the tunnel. Jordan had looked up again only once… fleetingly, but Leah had seen it. She grinned to herself at that as she made her way outside to her car. She was hindered a few times by fans and autographs but by the time she stepped foot outside, her phone buzzed. She excitedly grabbed at it, assuming it was Jordan, but it wasn’t. She stopped at her car and looked down disappointedly at the notification on her phone.

“You’re here?” Came a slightly out of breath voice behind her.

She spun around to see Jordan standing all rugged up in her puffer jacket, her nose red and her legs looking freezing where they weren’t covered.

“I… came to see you play.”

Half of Jordan’s face was hidden beneath her collar, and Leah couldn’t tell if she was upset.

“Did I overste-”

She was interrupted by Jordan’s body meeting hers, her head finding her shoulder, forehead pressing against her neck. Jordan’s hands slid around Leah’s body inside her coat to keep warm. Jord. Leah’s arms were moving around her before she even told them to, holding her close and keeping her warm. It felt right to let them stay in their silence for a while until Jordan was ready.

“Thank you for coming to watch my game.”

She let her head lean against Jordan’s. “Of course I came. You pencilled in a hug, remember? I didn’t want you to drive so far after your game.”

She let out a grateful sigh and pressed herself further into Leah. “Thank you, Lea. I’m really tired.”

“Would you like to reschedule?”

A few fans must have spotted them then and Leah saw them getting excited and start to run over from the stadium.

“No!” She stressed and pulled back. “No… we can still-”

“-did you drive?” Leah cut off.

“One of the girls drove me…” She responded, unsure about Leah’s change of pace.

“Do you have all of your things?” She asked, gesturing to her backpack.

“Yeah.. I mean I think so-”

Leah took her bag off and opened her passenger door. Jordan hesitated, still unsure about Leah’s impatience. Leah saw her hesitating and softened. “Let me drive you home please, Jord.”

Jordan’s eyes wandered over Leah’s face before she nodded and slipped into the car. As quickly as she could, Leah placed her backpack in the back seat and jumped in the driver’s seat as the mob of fans were almost on top of them. She saw Jordan’s eyes widen in realisation as Leah started the car and put some distance between them.

Most of the time, she’d be open and welcoming and go out of her way for the fans. Tonight, she just wanted to protect Jordan from that. She just wanted to get her home into where she knew she’d be warm and comfortable and could sleep.

Leah stopped the car abruptly at the exit of the car park.

“Lea?”

“I…” She turned to Jordan. “I don’t know where you live…” she admitted. She hated not knowing that.

Jordan gave her a supportive smile and leant forward towards Leah’s phone mounted to the dash. She paused, looking for permission first, but Leah wasn’t worried at all. She had nothing to hide from Jordan, ever, and she showed that by looking at her with patience. Jordan hid a smile as she typed her address into Leah’s phone and soon enough, they were on their way.

“Do you want to have dinner?”

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?”

“I’d like dinner with you…”

Leah smiled as she drove. She dared not look at her, but knew Jordan was watching her. She wanted to have dinner with her.

“We can do that, Jord. Whatever you want.”

“And maybe we can watch the Lord of the Rings?”

“I thought it scared you?”

“Well, yeah, but you like it.”

It also meant they had more time together, as they’d barely gotten through any of it that last time they were alone. She also liked the idea of Jordan hiding behind her at the scary parts. “You’re okay to stay up late?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s only gone seven. It’ll be done by eleven.”

Leah frowned. “I’m confused… you want to go out for dinner?”

“God no, I think we should order in.”

“We only had an hour and a half left, Jord.”

“Well, yeah, but I figured we could start at the beginning because I forgot what happened.”

Leah chuckled. It wasn’t beyond Jordan to forget, but as she snuck a look at her, she looked more like it was a sneaky excuse for more time together. “We can do that. I don’t mind a late drive.”

“You can stay… I can take the couch.”

Jordan’s obvious willingness to spend time with Leah softened her. She hadn’t felt so happy in a long, long time. Over a year, when she and Jordan were previously together.

“YFN offered me her bed on the condition that you let me stay…”

Jordan laughed. “Of course she did. You can take her bed then, we don’t want you driving home so late. Did she say anything else?”

“I just have a few things to pick up for her… clothes and what-not.”

“She said she wants to stick around London while she’s healing,” she nodded. “I’ll help you pack her stuff up.”

“Thanks Jord.”

There were a few minutes of silence then as Leah went into her own headspace, her face falling into its natural grumpy look as she did so. Jordan noticed.

“What are you thinking?”

Leah considered brushing her off, but she knew better now. “I have something to tell you but I don’t want it to ruin the night. You just need to know.”

“Okay…”

“The video is handled.”

She waited for questions, for emotion, but there was none. She replied after a few seconds of thought. “Okay, Lea.”

Lea pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, turning to look at her. “Okay?”

Jordan nodded and gave her a little smile. “Okay, Lea. I trust you.”

“Okay…” she replied huskily and reached into the back seat. “This is for Blu,” she said as she handed her the toy. She reached back again. “And these are for you.”

Jordan took the flowers with an excited expression. “Thanks, they’re pretty. And you can give this to him if you want… I think he’s going to be excited to see you.”

She handed the toy back to Leah.

Blu was all over her when they entered the apartment. She chuckled and gave him love and pats before his attention turned to Jordan. Leah couldn’t help but look around her and take in the place Jordan now called home. It suited her. She recognised all of the photos and little trinkets she had around, and the smell was even the same with the incense she liked to burn. And it was warm… Jordan warm.

They ordered take-away and Leah played with Blu while Jordan showered and changed. As they waited for their food, they found a vase for the flowers and packed the few clothes and items YFN needed in London. They chatted, laughed, and caught up with the recent activities in each other’s lives. Jordan shared her frustrations about her game and Leah cheered her up with photos YFN had sent her of the chaos at her and Lucy’s apartment. It felt so normal. She was happy for them to be talking again, and their recent silent dates together had developed a sense of calm and comfort in those silent moments between them.

The food arrived and they settled onto the couch with blankets and began the movie. Jordan let Leah set Blu up in his little bed in front of them and he fell asleep quickly. He was always a big sleeper, tired from walking around on those little legs all day, Leah imagined with a chuckle at the thought. There were sat close enough that their arms were partially against each other and Leah relished the moments where Jordan had to pause eating to hide her head behind her shoulder at the scenes that scared her. Jordan finished eating first, obviously, as she was so tiny she barely ate anything and the next time she came up from her hiding place behind Leah, her head stayed on her shoulder, her hand gently holding her arm. Leah let her rest in that spot, trying to keep her movements small as she ate with her left hand. After only a few minutes, though, she felt uncomfortable. She put her food down on the coffee table and sat back again, Jordan laying back down on the spot she’d claimed. Leah lasted another ten minutes until she wriggled uncomfortably, unable to keep still.

Jordan lifted her head. “Are you okay, Lea?”

“I…” she paused and pulled herself in check. Honesty always. “It’s just the cramps. They’re bad today.”

“Your endo?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. The drive had been bad enough.

Another cramp seized her and she squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered in pain.

“Did you bring your medication?”

“It’s in my bag,” she groaned.

“Stay here.” Jordan said as she stood, pausing their movie and taking the food to the kitchen. She returned quickly and leant over the couch, giving her a glass of water and her painkillers.

“Thanks, Jord.”

“Is it your lower back too?”

She nodded as she swallowed the pills, angry at herself for again ruining a night with Jordan.

She disappeared again and Leah heard the microwave, and the fridge doors.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m fine, just putting the food away. Give me a minute.”

The microwave finished and Leah heard the door opening and Jordan padding back over with two heat packs. Her mouth parted in awe as she looked up into her eyes. Jordan was taking care of her.

“Lay down, Lea.” She said as she guided her down, pulling a pillow under her head. Leah did as she was told, letting herself be looked after by her. Jordan gently put her on her side facing the tv, and placed a heat pack on her lower abdomen, and her lower back, tucking them into the waistband of her pants and pulling her shirt back down.

“Feel better?”

Leah couldn’t speak, so she just nodded.

“Do you need anything else?”

She was about to shake her head when she stopped herself and instead tugged lightly on Jordan who smiled. She took the remote and pressed play, slipping behind Leah, under the blanket. She pulled another pillow over so her head was higher and hesitantly, her hand found her abdomen which she tenderly rubbed in circles above her shirt. They’d done this so many times over the years, but this time it felt more personal, and even more special.

“Can you see the tv?” She murmured, relishing the feel of a warm Jordan pressed up against her back, her arm slung over her.

“Yeah.”

Leah inhaled sharply again at another cramp. Jordan paused her circling to hold pressure against the heat bag over her lower abdomen. That always helped.

“Why didn’t you cancel?”

“I told you I won’t make another mistake.”

She’d thought back to the promise she’d left her in a note, ‘…that was the last fault I’ll make…. no more mistakes…’

Jordan was silent for a moment as she thought about that. Her hand began circling her abdomen again reassuringly. “How do you feel?”

“Comfy.” Leah responded, proud of her little inside joke as she felt and heard Jordan chuckle behind her.

And then she felt Jordan’s lips touch the nape of her neck and linger, pouring affection and reassurance into her. Leah leant back into the kiss and felt that feeling she’d been missing for so long.

She felt like she was home.

[keepingitformyself]

we might just get away with it (ii)

AN: i’m so sorry for the delay on this second chapter, i got really caught up with uni stuff and then some personal projects i’ve been working on. anyways i have about a month off and will do my best to catch up on this story! hope u guys enjoy this one….happy holidays!

synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping for you to let her in.

pairings: writer!natasha romanoff x youngactress!reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: natalie is lowkey a mastermind. rumored romance with another certain actress…..

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

3 weeks later.

new york is everything you love, put into one city. you thrive in it’s anonymity, ironically.

it’s got the strong sense of culture, the food, the creativity, and the people. like every single person who walks the streets is made to belong there, they all have their purpose for making new york what it is.

that’s what you think as you’re sat outside a coffee shop on 463 w broadway.

you make a note of how one day you’ll commit to living here. you also make note of just how reckless it’d be if you just up and left la then never went back. you hate la, you’ve come to find out. yet there’s so much that keeps you there. you hate it. you don’t belong there. but in some sense of the word, you do.

you sigh with the shake of your head, adjust the cap securely on your head, and tighten the large overcoat you have on. the latte in front of you seeming more interesting now. the still hot liquid distracts you from the intrusive thoughts.

your mind drifts off to natalie. you’re immediately taken back to that night at the party. it’s your first time thinking of that night in weeks. and you realize how you truly haven’t felt the way you did that night, since. you remember the conversations you had, you remember how she went to school at nyu, how she told you she hasn’t left new york since. how she never plans to.

you wonder how she’s doing, if she’s in the city. if she remembers you, or has even thought of you.

it makes you a little sad to think about. your life hasn’t slowed down since the release of the series and sometimes all you wanted was to find some small relief in it all. even with the short-lived moments of connection it feels odd to come back from something like that and move on with your life.

your thought is cut short with a text message from samantha.

greta decided to move the meeting a little earlier. she apologizes for the last minute change. can you be there in the next 30 minutes?

you text a quick reply saying that you’ll be there as soon as you can. with that, you grab your to go cup and find the nearest subway that’ll take you up to 19th street.

you make it there just within the thirty minute mark. a kind man waits for you to arrive at the door and leads you up the elevator to the fourth floor of the walk up.

you’re surprised to see who is seated next to greta when you walk in.

“oh good, you made it! let me introduce you to—” you cut her off.

“—natalie.”

the redhead stands from her seat at the table and reaches over it to shake your hand.

“it’s a pleasure we meet again.” her eyes say something different. not bad necessarily, but something more. you’re not sure what it might be. greta’s eyes light up at the gesture.

“oh you’ve met! well, natalie here is gonna be joining us as head writer right besides me and noah for the next season.”

it’s your turn for your eyes to light up. a sense of relief floods through you. natalie isn’t here just to be here, she was here to be part of something with you.

you turn to her with a genuine smile. though you’ve worked with the people in this room for over a year, natalie is drastically different to them.

natalie was the first person who spoke to you as if you were just you. she didn’t bother you about work and stuff.

she talked to you about things that interested you, that interested her. she talked to you like you were just another individual who happened to be at the same party she was at.

“that’s- that’s actually really good to hear. i’m really excited for how this’ll turn out.”you let out a laugh, one that says you’re still trying to comprehend the news.

“right well, let’s get the meeting started!” greta claps her hands together and sits down.

——

natalie hasn’t stopped staring at you since the meeting started.

she hopes you’re as interested in the meeting as you look, because then at least she’d be sure you haven’t figured out her staring problem.

she only catches your eyes whenever greta or noah turn the attention towards her, then you’re forced to look at her. but she’s always just in time to look away before you can notice the stares.

the truth is, natalie is an absolute maniac. she’s a psychopath. she’s a writer for gods sake!

writers have a tendency to be more in sync with their awareness which is great…but they’re also more able to get in touch with that darker side in their psyche. how else do you think she managed to snag a few award-winning films under her belt?

her creativity reaches into places in her mind most wouldn’t even consider to think of.

point is, natalie is a huge romanticist, and it’s a problem. sometimes.

in her defense, greta came up to her for this job. so in some sense of the word, it was fate. plus, tony had put in a good word, not that she asked him to. obviously.

up until that point, natalie had no clue on how to get to you. her only idea was writing her next screenplay and giving you the lead.

but now, the ball was in her court. she takes the next shot.

the meeting ended and everyone was seeing themselves out. natalie thinks of what to say while she’s packing her things but you beat her to it instead.

“it was really nice to see you again.” she hears you say. she lifts her head up, you’re smiling and your hands are stuffed into your coat pockets. a smile easily reaches her eyes at the sight.

“i’m glad. i’ve already got some plans for where i want to take this next season.” natalie replies with an enthusiastic smile.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise eager to know what she might have to say but you hold yourself back. she wouldn’t spoil that for you, even if you asked.

“i have trust you’ll do it right then, i’ve already grown so protective of this show, especially my character.” it was very true. there were moments where you really had to oversee things going on with the script. thank god greta was as collaborative as she is. you’d always try exploring things with your character and she was always very supportive of where you’d take things. it made the series all the more fulfilling to you, honestly.

natalie confirms that she’ll do anything she thinks is in your best interest for the show and before she even realizes it, you’re making a move she wasn’t expecting.

“i know this is on short notice, but…i saw this really nice bistro on my way here and, i’d love to get to know my head writer more…over brunch?” you ask timidly. the thought to ask her had occurred to you only a few seconds ago. natalie seemed wise, and you liked it and she was here with you now and honestly, you just wanted some good company while being in the city.

“yeah i can do lunch. yeah that’s great actually.” natalie was surprised. to say the least. she hadn’t planned to continue the day with you. she decides this was her chance in. her way of getting to know you better, something she’s been desperate to get back to since she realized it that night in her home.

you lead her out of the building where you’re met with the crisp wind of new york city. car horns and police sirens are heard as you walk through the streets of the flatiron neighborhood. on the way to the restaurant you ask eachother how you’ve been.

you tell her about how you just wrapped up your press tour in europe and had spent a few nights with some friends in london. natalie pays close attention to every word that is hung from your lips. she notices to light blush that covers your cheeks and nose due to the cold and she almost reaches out to pull you in closer.

as you speak, she tries not to notice the obvious man with the camera that makes himself known a few hundred feet away from you. a sense of pride makes washes over her at the fact that there’d be a picture taken of the two of you, together.

you end your story and in return ask her how she’s been. natalie doesn’t miss the genuine interest shown in your eyes as she talks.

even as you reach the restaurant and are seated you never lose your sense.

natalie talks and talks and you listen. you’re so entranced by her stories that you’ve come to find that you deeply admire her for what she does and says. it makes you feel all the more excited for the chance at working with her.

she tells you she’s never not writing. even before greta came along to offer her the role of head writer, she was still writing. natalie tells you about the screenplay she was working on, how she plans to direct it as well.

you beam at her revelation seeming genuinely excited at the fact that she’d be making a movie sometime in the future. you tell her that she better invite you to the premiere.

natalie laughs off your comment. she doesn’t tell you how she got back into her writing after she saw you on her screen for the first time, all those months ago.

or how you’re the muse in her next story.

once your ordered food comes in you sit in a comfortable silence as you eat.

“what do you do on your days off?” natalie asks suddenly. she looks up at you through her lashes, her fork playing with the baked eggs on her plate.

you’re so caught off guard by her question it makes you blush at the way she stares you down. you chew down the food in your mouth and answer.

“uh, i like going home, to see my mom. she doesn’t let me stay for more than i need to though, she says i need to go out and meet new people.” you chuckle. your mom was your biggest supporter but also your biggest critic. although she always enjoys her time with you, she was always telling you to go meet with some of your hometown friends.

it’s why you liked going home so much. she’s great at grounding you when you need to be.

“oh? and have you met any new people?” natalie’s interest is piqued by now. she carefully treads around the question, hoping, wishing for any information that’d give her an in into what she desperately wants to know.

who are you with when you’re not alone? who do you think of when you are?

“i mean, i’ve met some really cool people through mutual friends." you reveal.

“wow, so you haven’t met anyone you fancy?” natalie plays it off coolly. she treads along the sacredness that is your romances. and natalie doesn’t mention the fact that she’s read into your love life recently. the rumors of you and another actress.

the one you were pictured with in london very recently.

“huh? oh, no. i don’t really have anyone like that in my life right now.” you nervously chuckle at her question.

“so you and that actress aren’t a couple? you and jenna ortega?” natalie feeds a forkful of food into her mouth, seeming very nonchalant about what she just asked.

you try not to laugh at natalie’s question. your eyebrows raise in surprise at her very forward question. it’s almost comical, really.

jenna was amongst the close group of friends you stayed with while in london.

she was a flame, someone you’d come to deeply admire over the time spent knowing her. she tells you things that you learn from, you check on eachother, you bring eachother back down to earth.

and she was one of the few people you could actually depend on with your life in this industry.

the silent shock wears off. you’re not sure what to say, except the fact that you feel a little embarrassed at her question. that even natalie of all people had heard about your supposed love life.

something that you tried to keep nurtured as much as possible.

“she’s one of my best friends.” you finally say. more sure than anything. you try not to laugh at the accusation. the idea of it seeming so far away from where you are now.

“i haven’t even dated in such a long time.” you even go as far to say. anything to make it clear you’re nowhere near any level of romance with anyone.

you miss the look of surprise on natalie’s face when you say this. she sets her fork down to sip from the breakfast martini she had ordered. she sets her glass down and takes a look at you, leaning forward only slightly.

“i was so sure someone as pretty as you wouldn’t have stayed single for so long.” then she looks down at her plate with a small smile, contemplating. there’s a beat of silence.

finally, she looks up.

“can’t say i’m disappointed at being proved wrong though.” she finishes.

you laugh at natalie’s comment. it’s all you could do, not really sure at what she could be getting at. you even blush a little.

and natalie misses none of it.

[frozenjokes]

Another Much Needed Follow Up About Love and Aromanticism, Where It’s Time We Cleared Things Up. Oh, And Mumbo Is Here Too.

this fic can be read on its own as a one shot, but I would recommend reading this first, as the context provides a little more insight on why the characters are reacting the way they do to each other

Over the course of a couple weeks very little changed. Mumbo spent the majority of his time planted in one place, anchored somewhat in the shallows so he could lift his head and listen to what the humans were doing on the days they came around. As much as it pained Mumbo to be so still so much of the time, it was a necessary evil if he ever wanted to heal, and he very much did. It didn’t matter how little he moved his tail at this point, anything he did would only result in his condition worsening.

If it wasn’t for Scar, he would have left a while ago. The humans didn’t come every day anymore, but they came often enough, and they certainly noticed Mumbo’s lack of activity. Grian tended towards keeping his distance, which didn’t bother Mumbo at all, but Scar really went out of his way to be there; sitting close (a gesture Mumbo was beginning to mind less), bringing him human trinkets to look at and play with (always exciting), but most importantly Scar brought food, and a lot of it at that; Mumbo wouldn’t have been able to stay without it. He often wondered where Scar got the many bags of fish he brought; it wasn’t all very fresh, so it was probably supplied from a human stockpile, but regardless, Mumbo was grateful. He wasn’t often in the best of moods and didn’t speak very much despite the fact he was sure Scar would have been ecstatic to talk with him, but he hoped regardless that Scar knew how deeply grateful he was.

Today, Scar and Grian were sitting on the shore together, shoulder to shoulder as they bent over one of their human activities. The first time Mumbo saw them drawing together, he had asked to see (saying ‘What’ over and over again seemed to have gained several different meanings over the weeks), but Scar had showed him that the paper they wrote on got ruined in the water, ripping easily, so it wasn’t something Mumbo could learn about personally. That was okay though, he was content to watch.

“Okay,” Scar began tapping the writing utensil (‘pencil’) to his lips, “Do we have anything to revise about the list this week? I don’t think very much new has happened.”

“Read it again, will you?”

“It’s right here in front of your face, do I really have to?”

“We’ve been over this Scar, I’m conditionally illiterate. Like right now, you got me up early and I’m tired and the words are so far away and I don’t want to. Also your handwriting is atrocious.”

“I’m tired too! It’s not my fault my fish guy needed me to show up at 6 AM.”

“You have a car, Scar. And a license.”

“Oh hey! Look at this cool list!” Scar directed Grian’s attention back to the paper, Grian only rolling his eyes before letting Scar continue. “Well, I won’t go into detail on my notes about what he eats because that’ll just bore you, but to put it simply, basically everything that’s got meat on it. Fish, shellfish, red meat, chicken, mostly just fish is what I’ve been giving him though, since I’m assuming that's what makes up most of his diet. Want to make sure he gets all the proper nutrients, you understand, you understand.”

“Uh huh.”

“As for ‘Likes,’ we’ve got fish, human stuff, Scar, Grian-”

“Scar first?” Grian cut his friend off with a raised eyebrow. Scar blinked several times before answering.

“What?”

“Scar, Grian. You put your name before mine.”

“Well this list wasn’t meant to be in order, but if it was, my name would absolutely go before yours.”

“What! No it wouldn’t. He likes us equally. Mumbo and I have a mutual understanding that we do not want to be anywhere near each other most of the time. We respect each other. From a distance.”

Scar smirked, throwing Mumbo an amused look as if he understood anything that was going on. “You know if you wanted to you could also bring him gifts and stuff. Nothing is stopping you. You could even bring him his fish if you wanted to, he wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t care. There’s really nothing to be afraid of, especially now when he’s so docile like this.”

“I’m not afraid of Mumbo.”

“No?”

“If anything, he’s afraid of me, Scar. I got him in that net, I’ve gotten close to killing him a couple times- he knows it, Scar, he knows. He knows what’ll happen if he steps out of line, that’s what. I told him. I told him all about it.”

“Did you now,” Scar chuckled, nudging Grian playfully, “Well in that case, I’m definitely sure he likes me more. And I’m sure you’re perfectly content with being feared, but if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help.”

Grian huffed, “I won’t. Continue though.”

Scar lingered for a moment, a gentle fondness etched on his features before turning back to the paper, reading, “Well, he plays around with those vines and roots and things sometimes, he clearly is very curious, he likes to learn, and I think he likes birds, but he might just be staring at them because he wants to eat them. I put bugs in our ‘Neutral’ category since every time I try to give him a bug he just eats it, but I can’t tell if he just eats bugs or if he’s scared of them or something.”

“I highly doubt Mumbo is afraid of bugs. I doubt he cares.”

“Well, you never know! In ‘Dislikes’ we’ve got nets, sleeping bags, being touched, fighting- actually this isn't super related, but I really want to set up a Good and Bad system with him. A thumbs up thumbs down kind of situation. I was thinking about it all last night- we aren’t very good at communicating what we like or don’t like, and this feels like a good solution, but I’m not exactly sure how to tell him clearly what I’m trying to do. How would he know thumbs up means ‘good.’ And vice versa? Maybe bad would be easier to start with, but at the same time he kinda seems like a bite first ask questions later kinda guy.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Definitely start with thumbs up. With any luck he’ll understand that thumbs down is the opposite and you can go from there. I think you could probably associate the gesture with things Mumbo likes. The tape measure, fish- he knows smiling is a positive thing even if he doesn’t smile himself, and he knows what ‘yes’ means as well. With enough of that, I think he’ll grasp the meaning pretty quick.”

“I think so too,” Scar paused for a moment, thoughtful, “You know, this doesn’t just have to be a me effort. You could come and speak to him as well. He would know you’re putting in the effort if you wanted him to like you more.”

“He likes me plenty!” Grian switched from relaxed to exasperated on a dime, throwing up his hands as Scar laughed. “He likes me, Scar.”

“I know he likes you. But I also know he doesn’t have the full picture. He doesn’t know how much time you spend brainstorming how to teach him things, or how to relieve his stress, or worrying when he’s not feeling well. I just want him to know you aren’t as distant as he probably thinks, especially if it bothers you. If you wanted to get a little closer and help me with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ gestures, that’d be a start.”

Grian was silent for a long time, brows creased tight above his eyes. “Maybe,” he said finally, almost quietly, “But not today. I’m too tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scar sighed, content, letting his head fall to rest on top of Grian’s, who squeaked, jumping so hard he accidentally jabbed at Scar’s chin with his shoulder. It must not have hurt though, because Scar didn’t seem to mind at all, unmoving. Slowly, Grian untensed, his head falling gently on Scar’s shoulder. Mumbo had a somewhat ridiculous pang of longing despite still holding a strong aversion to any human touch at all. They just looked so relaxed- anyone would wonder what it was like to be human. Though, while Scar closed his eyes, Grian didn’t quite look satisfied, something like conflict sitting across his features. He sat like that for a while, eyes moving, but not quite looking at anything at all, apparent restlessness building. Then he stopped. Closed his eyes. Opened them.

“Scar, are you aromantic or are you just fucking with me? Because I outright refuse to believe anyone is actually this clueless.”

Scar opened his eyes. Silence. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh???” It was safe to say the two of them did not look relaxed anymore, Grian jerking away, “Scar, what does ‘uh oh’ mean. You can not just say ‘uh oh’ and nothing else.” Mumbo’s fins raised at the tone of his voice, but Mumbo cringed back when Grian whipped around to face him with an aggressive point. “No. You stay. Scar, I need you to say more right now.”

“I-Sleeping, I mean, we weren’t sleeping yet- but resting like- not friends? Not normal? Bdubs- I am going to strangle that man!”

“So you’re aromantic?” The words leapt off Grian’s tongue like an accusation, but he relaxed almost immediately after, sighing into his hands, “You’re aromantic. Okay. Good. Okay.”

“I- I mean I don’t love labels. I don’t really know, I don’t know much of anything at all, really. I’m sorry, Grian, I didn’t- did no one tell you I have a horrible track record for these things? Did you want me to ask you out? I still can.”

“Goodness, Scar, no! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you’ve just been sending incredibly mixed signals and I needed to know what was going on with you before my head exploded and my brains went all over the place and poor Mumbo would have to witness that and we don’t want that, do we? We don’t want that. This is fine, though, we just need to work out some boundaries.”

“What if I did want to though? To ask you out?”

Grian stared. Scar stared back.

“You do not want to.”

“I’ll have you know, I like you plenty a lot! I like you all sorts of ways, and if you also like me, then that’s cool! I’ll tell ya, when I had my little politics phase, my campaign manager was this great guy, Bdubs, we’re still friends, too, have you met him? Anyway, he’s a pretty touchy guy as well and he convinced me all sorts of things were totally normal friend stuff. Oh, we had this great cushy chair in our office and it was only really meant for one person, but sometimes we’d both be so tired and just squeeze into it and it wasn’t any sort of comfortable at all, but in a way it kinda was. Like inside. You know?”

“Scar, do you actually want to ask me out or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I wanted.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Well, Grian, it really doesn’t matter to me either way!” Scar gave Grian a big smile, like these words were the ones that would definitively solve their dispute, but the expression started to drop when Grian looked mortified. “Is..” Scar started, unsure now, “Something wrong?”

Mumbo had never seen such a wide range of emotions cross Grian’s face before his head dropped onto his knees with a soft thunk. “No. It’s fine.”

Scar stared for a long while, a gentle churning of thought moving behind his eyes. He relaxed, scooching to give Grian a little space before smiling again, the expression soft. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure, Scar.” Grian’s voice was muffled between his knees, and given his face was covered, Mumbo had no idea how he was feeling.

“So there was this one time in high school where I was good friends with this girl, and she was awesome, just the best, and we hung out like constantly, and y’know how people get sometimes all pushy asking about dating and stuff, but you also know high schoolers who can’t communicate if their life was on the line. So all my friends are like dude, you guys are literally dating, aren’t you? And I say no! I insist we’re not every time, I insist! Yes, we went out together often and we talked for hours and her family had some money troubles so a lot of the time I offered to pay, you know, normal stuff, it was normal, I promise, but one day I get this call, right? From one of her friends! And this girl just starts ripping into me, like, seriously! She’s telling me all this stuff I had no idea about- telling me my friend is so confused, that she doesn’t feel pretty around me, that I’m always trying to avoid intimacy- that I refused to kiss her! And I was like what, whoa there! No one has ever tried to kiss me! Why are we talking about kissing people? She thought we were dating, Grian.”

“I got that.”

“And then she dumped me! My first breakup, and I didn’t even know! I was kinda bummed, too, I had always kinda wanted to kiss someone, but I thought they’d tell me first! Y’know, that they wanted to. I would have been so ready! The worst part is I think my guy friends were trying to tell me we were dating, not just teasing me. They also thought it was funny though, so. Who knows.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know, right! And this other time in college there was this other girl- we had mutual friends and stuff and we were at a party and just absolutely wasted and she grabbed me by the collar and she said ‘SCAR,’ she yelled in my face, she said ‘I’ve been FLIRTING with you for WEEKS and YOU’VE been flirting BACK. ARE YOU GAY?’ And I said, drunk, ‘A little bit!’ And then we danced all night. It was awesome. She was so cool. That kinda stuff happened a lot in college, actually. Guys are a bit more direct, which I appreciate. I’m a little stupid, I need the extra help sometimes.”

Grian tensed where he was sitting, quiet for a short pause before speaking, “You’re not stupid, Scar.”

“I mean. A little bit.”

“No. You’re not stupid.”

Scar was silent for a long while, staring despite Grian’s head still being buried in his knees. “I don’t know about that.”

Grian lifted his head, shaking it ‘no.’ He blinked a couple times before shaking his head again, a little more forcefully. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just talked to you like an adult and told you how I was feeling. Sometimes you’re just really confusing, and that’s not your fault, you just.. go about the world in a different way. And it’s not a bad way either, it’s not wrong. If people can’t communicate exactly how they’re feeling to you, that’s a them issue. You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Scar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I really thought we had some sort of understanding- and I did mean it when I said we could give this a shot. I like dating, Grian, I always have a lot of fun! I can be- I know I can be- I have trouble sometimes, I just ruin good things-”

“Scar, stop, please. I don’t want anything you don’t want. Period.”

Scar didn’t seem to know what to do with that, staring uselessly at his own hands before looking back up. “I want it, Grian,” he stressed, his arms trembling, but Grian only stared, lips gently parted.

They both looked.. So sad. Mumbo longed to help, to sing, to do something, but he was stuck outside of their world.

Grian extended his arms. “C’mere, buddy.”

Scar collapsed into them, shaking as he did. Grian didn’t move, rubbing slow circles on Scar’s back while he cried. There was a certain focus behind Grian’s eyes, a certain calm as he held his friend close, and Mumbo.. well, it was clear Grian didn’t need Mumbo’s help. So that was the power of human touch.

He’d have to learn it one day.

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 13

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

.

“Okay,” said Danny rubbing his hands together.  “I’m going to do the big group next.”

“Group number four?”

“Yeah, them.  Why’re there three of them, anyway?”

“You’ll have to ask them that,” said Clockwork.  “Au jus?”

“Yes, please,” said Danny, reaching for the small bowl of sauce.  “Your sandwiches are always really good.”

“Thank you,” said Clockwork.  “Will you be leaving after lunch, then?”

“Yeah, I think that’ll be best.”  Danny sighed.  “No offense, but I’m kind of going a little bit stir-crazy, being inside all the time.  I didn’t really realize until Pandora said something, but she was right.”

“That’s quite reasonable,” said Clockwork.  “The trial has lasted for nearly a month and a half.”

“Really?  I think I’ve only been with each person for about a week, and there’ve only been four people.  Five, if you count the Observants.”

“Yes, but you’ve spent a good amount of time here as well.  Those in-between days add up.”

“Huh.  I guess so.”  Danny took a bite of his sandwich.  “I guess it sort of snuck up on me.  A month and a half…  So two weeks here.”

“Yes, but please chew with your mouth closed.”

“Oops,” said Danny, covering his mouth.  “Sorry.”

Clockwork nodded and patted Danny absently on the head before making a small sandwich for himself.  They ate together quietly.  

“Three of them, though,” said Danny.  “Are they all together, or something?”

“You will–”

“Have to meet them and find out.  I know, I know.  Should I brush my teeth first?”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow.  

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Danny.  “That’s probably too much effort.  But I should put in some effort, shouldn’t I?”  He nodded.  “Yeah.  Toothbrushing.  Toothbrush.  One minute.”

.

Danny had been in a lot of places over the last month and a half.  A cute little house, two mansions possessed by people with questionable understandings of humanity, a warren of ice caves, an ancient Greek palace, and, of course, Clockwork’s purple place.  He’d imagined a lot of others.  Like open skies, broad fields, mountains, islands… horrible mad science labs…

However, he hadn’t imagined a place like this.

“Um,” he said, looking around the… stage?  Rats' nests of cables were strewn about in every direction, and next to the curtains hunting trophies were hung.  Heads, horns, antlers… hair?  A tail?  Whatever, this was weird, and there didn’t seem to be anyone around.  “Hi?”  He stepped forward over a tangle of cables.  “Hello?  Anyone–”

“BEHOLD!  I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY–”

Danny leaped backwards, to hover over the seating area, startled by the ghost rising out of the cables.  The stage lights came on, spotlights centering on the ghost.  He had long white hair, green skin, sunglasses built into his face, and a tattered lab coat.  

Music blasted out of speakers, rock and roll, screaming guitars, thundering drums and cymbals.  A young, gray-skinned woman with fiery blue hair rose up from under the stage.  She held a guitar painted with blue and pink flames.  

“HEYA, BABYPOP!” she shouted into a microphone that appeared in a burst of fire.  “WELCOME HOME TO MAMA EMBER, YEAH!”

“Hey!” whined the first ghost.  “You said I could do the introductions!”

“I never said that.  You said that.  I was always going to do the intros.  You think I’m going to leave it to you, when you just drone on and on and on and on and–”

“As if you’re any better!”

“I come with a sound track, audio jack,” said Ember.  

“My god, you two are so loud, and you didn’t even bother to introduce me,” said a deep, slightly hollow voice.  Danny startled again, twisting to see a ghost completely covered with silvery armor.  

“I thought you didn’t care about introductions,” said Ember.  She played a quick few chords on her guitars, then continued to use her music to punctuate her words.  “Because big, bad, baddie, bad, hunky, hottie, hunter Skulker doesn’t need an introduction.”  She leaned forward over the guitar.  “His name speaks for him!”  She started laughing so hard she floated up off the stage.  Music continued to blare from the speakers.  

“I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY, CAN TAKE YOUR SO-CALLED MUSIC OFF THE AIR!”

“We’re not even on the air!”

“I can’t believe I’m associated with these two idiots,” said Skulker.  

“I’d like to know how you’re associated with me,” said Danny, trying to smooth down his fur.  

“Isn’t it obvious, babypop?” asked Ember.  “We’re you’re parents!  Yeah!”  

“Uh,” said Danny, looking at the very strange trio.  “I don’t know about the other two, but aren’t you a little… young for that?”  She couldn’t be all that much older than Jazz.  

“I’m dead, kiddo.  Son.  Boy.  Little man.  I was a teen mom and all that.  Totally radical rockstar living.”

“With, um,” said Danny.  His eyes slid back and forth between Ember and Skulker.

“Skulker, duh,” said Ember.  “Techy here is Skulker’s boyfriend or whatever.”

“It’s not whatever.  I am his trusted–”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“We’re all dating, except when we’re broken up,” said Skulker, bored.

“Okay,” said Danny.  “So… you’re both…”  He shrugged at them.  

“What does this–” Technus also shrugged, “--mean?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “You tell me.”

“Hm, the amnesia did not do favors for his intelligence!  I liked him much better before!  Do you want to see the lab?”

“The lab?” repeated Danny, backing away from Technus a little more.  

“It really didn’t help your intelligence.  Sad!  Perhaps some electroshock therapy might help?”

“Hey!” said Ember, kicking Technus’s tail.  “What did we say about electrocuting the flesh baby?  What did that narc say?  The tall purple one?”

“I know you know that Clockwork isn’t a narc,” said Skulker.  

The three of them started to bicker.  Danny watched in mixed fascination and horror.  

White hair on Technus.  Green eyes on Skulker and Ember.  Human-like appearances.  A mad science lab.  Jazz’s belief that Danny would buy the absurdly youthful mother story.  Frostbite’s conviction that his parents were abusive.  Heck, Danny could even see them meeting Vlad in college, if he fudged the ages a little.  He didn’t have any idea how old Vlad was, after all.  

Were these his actual parents?  Like, his actual, biological parents?

“Anyway, babypop,” said Ember, throwing a hand around Danny’s shoulder, “we heard about your predicament through the grapevine–”

“Through the grapevine?  Weren’t you just saying you were my mother?”

“Yeah, but I was on tour, Skulker was hunting, and Technus was… Being Technus.  We were, like, estranged.  Separated.  Because of the whole alive thing.  Fell out of touch.”  She waved a lazy hand.  “Anyway, we heard about the Observants putting you through hell, and we were like, that’s not cool.  So, we put our names in the hat, all that stuff, babypop, ‘cause we love you, y’know?  And we’re going to have so much fun.  I’ll turn you into a proper rocker yet.  You’ve got a great set of pipes, kid, and you’ve got to use that.”

“But first!” shouted Technus, at only a slightly lower volume than before.  “The GRAND TOUR!”

Danny took back that thought about the volume being lower.  

“TO THE LAB!”

Danny cringed away from Technus.  This was going to be a pain.  

.

“Okay,” said Danny, floating a few feet over the floor to avoid the wires.  “We’ve seen the stage, the sound room, the… conservatory?”

“Never say that I don’t have taste, babypop.  You’ve got to have a good piano in a house.”

“Yeah, then workshop, and the server room, and the lab.”  Which had, frankly, been horrifying.  Just a massive mess of electronics.  The sense of electricity in the room made his hair all stand on end.  “And the weapon room.  Then the… hunting.  Place.  And.  Um.  Zoo.”  Which was also horrifying, but for different reasons.

“Yes,” said Skulker, “our space may be limited, but you will soon know the joy of the hunt.”

“... right,” said Danny.  “But, like, is there a… kitchen?”

“Kitchen?” asked Ember, blankly.  

“We don’t,” said Skulker.  

“We mostly order out, when the great hunter here can’t catch anything!”

“Can anyone… get in to order out?”

Ember, Skulker, and Technus stared at each other.  

“Crap,” said Ember, finally.  “Crap.”

“What?” said Technus.  “It’s not like we have to eat.”

“I kind of do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.  Everyone else has been feeding me.”

“Yeah, no, we’re ghosts, even you,” said Technus.  “We don’t need to eat.”

“I can kill off some of the game I’ve already caught,” said Skulker, “if we really need to.  I’d like you to hunt for them, though.  A little extra incentive!”

“Right.  Sure.  Whatever.  Bedroom?” asked Danny.

“We don’t need to sleep, either,” said Technus.  

Fine.  Danny wasn’t touching that.  “Bathroom?” he tried.

“Gross,” said Ember.  “Who’s spending their afterlife peeing?”

“Uh.  Me?”

“Ew.  You’ve got to quit that.”

Danny didn’t think that was a thing he could actually quit.  He made a face.  “You’re not actually my parents, are you?”

“Of course we are,” said Skulker, mechanically.  

“Okay, well, that right there, that’s a lie,” said Danny.  “That’s definitely a lie.”

“It’s not,” said Technus, stridently. 

“Look, maybe some fighting would knock him out of his funk,” said Skulker.  “Knock him right out.”

“Yeah, some of that misplaced aggression kind of thing he’s always on about,” said Ember.  

Danny had no idea what he was talking about.  “You guys do know that if I can’t have a place to go to the bathroom, I’m going to leave, right?”

“Maybe even a good hunt,” said Skulker.  “For old times’ sake.  Give him a good chase, get rid of some of that anxiety.”

Danny really hoped he wasn’t related to these three.  He grabbed the pocketwatch.  

“Wait, ghost child!” 

“Okay, yeah, that’s not something you call your kids,” said Danny, pointing at Technus.  

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you caught us,” said Technus.  “Real sharp of you, ghost child!  Real sharp and groovy.”

“Oh my god, you don’t know what any of those words mean,” said Ember.  “Stop using them.”

“BUT!” shrieked Technus.  “What you don’t know is that we’re your RIVALS!”

Danny grimaced.  “What?”

“We fought you, like, a bunch of times,” said Ember. 

“And… now you want to adopt me?”

“Better us than some of the nutjobs that want you.  We’d just let you do your own thing, hang out, fight a bit when you get touchy about your stupid city, or too wound up about school, all that stuff.”

“But we’d NEVER make you go to SCHOOL!” said Technus.  “I could teach you in the lab!”

“Wow, that’s, uh.  Touching,” said Danny.  “But the bathroom thing is, in this case, a dealbreaker.”

“Aw, come on,” said Ember.  “At least have a good fight with us, first.  Skulker’s been practically moping since you’ve been out of commission.”

“My latest hunts have been… flavorless,” said Skulker.  Danny sighed.  “Fine.  But I’m going right after.”

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of childhood friend Simon

“You missed a spot.”

“Like hell I did.”

Simon’s eye twitches as you snort, turning back to your phone. “Some sniper you are, blind bastard.”

The silence stretches for one, two, three…..

“Where?” he sighs.

“Left side of your jaw.” You gesture at the spot just near where it curves, a few centimeters from the corner. He runs his thumb over the spot and finds a patch of stubble.

“Fuck.”

“‘Like hell I did’,” you mock.

He narrows his eyes, points threateningly. “Watch it or I’ll shave an eyebrow.”

You snort, unconcerned. “Remember that time I did shave my eyebrows?”

He smirks as he runs the razor over the bit he missed, double checks he got it, then rinses in the sink.

“Wasn’t it because of some stupid YouTube video?”

“Yes, and I still have nightmares about having to draw them in.”

He nearly snorts water everywhere trying not to laugh, quickly wiping his face off with the towel you hand him.

“Didn’t your mum start calling you caterpillar girl?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized.

“Simon Riley you swore you’d never bring that up again!”

He laughs outright as you chase him from the bathroom, whacking him in the arm. When he puts his hands up in mock surrender, you give him one last swat for good measure.

“Assaulting a military officer is illegal.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re legally dead, aren’t you? So wouldn’t that be desecrating a corpse?”

“I’ll have to ask Laswell.”

“Or we could ask Johnny. I bet he’ll know.”

The implication of Johnny knowing versus having an opinion is not something Simon’s equipped to parse before his first cuppa.

“Johnny’s just gonna side with you.”

You shrug - because it’s true. Johnny may be Simon’s (other) best friend, but he’s also a shithead that takes every opportunity to fuck with Ghost. And with you around “protecting” him, he’s been an absolute bastard.

“Then we’ll ask Gaz and John too,” you offer as you step into your shoes.

You’ve been lining them up next to his boots off to the side. The contrast of big, black leather next to your much smaller trainers would be almost comedic if it didn’t make his chest warm.

A reminder that you’re here with him, in a place he usually spends all his time wishing to see you. He’s called you countless times on the same bed you’ve been sharing for the past week. And now you’re wearing his official SAS hoodie (complete with his name on the back) and invading his wardrobe, about to go with him to breakfast in the mess.

Johnny, in a shocking twist, doesn’t think it’s desecrating a corpse to smack Simon.

“Well, he’s Ghost, aye? So it’d be exorcising him, no?”

Your eyes go all big as you turn to Simon with unholy delight. He makes a mental note to throw Johnny onto the mat once more than usual during their next spar.

That’ll have to wait though, because he’s promised you range time and then the obstacle course. Johnny tags along, interested to see your marksmanship when Simon’s talked it up so much.

He watches on, pride bright and hot in his chest, as you walk through all the steps he’s taught you. It’s even his favorite gun in your steady hands, fingers elegant as you load, chamber. Click the safety off and settle into your preferred stance.

The first two shots hit the target, though off to the side, the second closer to center than the first. You pause, take a breath before he even says anything. Then fire again. And again. And again. Until the mag is empty and he brings the paper target back.

A neat cluster of 15 holes, dead center.

“Atta girl,” he rasps, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss against your hair.

“I did good?” you ask, beaming.

“Lass, even those first two would have been the end of some poor sod,” Johnny chimes in, patting your shoulder. “Guess the LT isn’t such a bad teacher after all.”

Simon narrows his eyes. “Was that even a question?”

Johnny shoves the ammo box at you. “A pint says you can’t do it again.”

“You’re on!”

—

The obstacle course is slightly less of a success.

“Oh, hey, Si,” you giggle, clinging onto the rope for dear life. “Ya come here often.”

He snorts. “Did you get stuck?”

“No!” You huff, scowling. “Im just… hanging around.”

He’s enjoyed watching you navigate the course - more importantly, he likes that you enjoy climbing around. Even if he’s had a small heart attack every time your foot slips or you wobble.

“Oi, you’re holding up traffic,” Gaz huffs, rapping his knuckles against your foot.

“Do you mind?” you call back. “Im telling Simon bad jokes.”

“Oh, by all means then.”

Simon snorts, jerks his head for you to continue. Johnny laughs as you shimmy along, laughs harder when you almost fall flipping him off.

Once you make it to the other side, Gaz climbs up after you and starts demonstrating how to do the next section. Simon and Johnny follow along, the latter cheering you on.

Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention; Price, determined set to his shoulders. Simon recognizes the glint in his eye.

“Got ‘em?” Simon asks, hopeful.

Having you spend all day with him on base has been a subconscious fantasy come true. You, close by and safe, under 24/7 guard. But the circumstances have made his skin crawl, made it difficult to enjoy the novelty. Woken him up in the small hours of the night and hug you as close as he can without waking you.

“Fuckin’ got ‘em,” Price confirms. “Laswell’s got the docket prepped. All that’s left it briefing and prep. You can be wheels up in a few hours.”

Simon cracks his neck, anticipation sparking in his veins. His gaze slides to you, to his teammates helping you down from the wall. Price follows your gaze.

“You good for this one, Simon? Got your head on straight?”

Simon flicks him a look. “You know I’m good.”

“I know Ghost is good. What about Simon?”

He blinks, gaze going back to you. You can tell already even from a distance, by the set of his shoulders, that something is going on. You’re still relaxed, but there’s a questioning curve to your mouth as you stop at his side, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt.

“Something happened?” you ask.

“We found the group targeting you.”

“Oh!” You arch your eyebrows, eyes bouncing between him and Price. “You’ll be taking care of it, then?”

Simon turns back to Price, a silent “well?”.

“We’ll discuss strategies during the brief.”

You perk up. “Do I get to come?”

“Might as well,” Price sighs. “Let’s go.”

—

In the end, of course Simon is going to go. You’re his girl, always have been. He trusts his team, but when it comes to you, he’ll see this done right. And the only way to be sure, the only way to have peace, is for him to eliminate the threat himself.

Johnny’s coming along, of course. The slightest bit of tension in your shoulders eases when Price decides it. Simon presses his thigh into yours.

When the brief is done, strategies and timelines set, you follow him back to his barrack. He gears up while you sit on the bed, idly inspecting his vest while he straps into everything else.

“Nervous?” he asks.

You tilt your head back and forth considering. “Not more than usual before you leave. It seems like this is pretty standard for you, more or less. Why, should I be nervous?“

He snorts. That’s his girl. “No.”

You hum, picking at the Velcro of his SAS patch. He pauses, watches your face. You’re not anxious, but there’s… something.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, chucking you gently under the chin.

“I…” you pause, hum. Try again. “I don’t like that you’re going out just because of me.”

He frowns, settles on the edge of his bed. You lean with the dip in the mattress, pressing warm and solid against his side.

“I feel like… like I messed up somehow, and now you have to fix it for me.”

He blows out a breath, yanking the mask off. You tilt your head to look at him, eyes soft, the tiniest frown on your face. He peels his glove off too, to cup your cheek. Revels in the warmth and smooth skin against his scars and callouses, always a little surprised when you lean into it.

“I’d get you world peace if you asked for it,” he replies.

“You’d be out of a job,” you half-joke.

“You are my job, daft thing.” He shakes his head, leans in until he can thunk his forehead gently against yours. “You’re what brought me back from the grave. Knew I still had work to do, that you still needed taking care of.”

You sniffle a bit. Always do when he digs up the words to remind you how much you mean to him. Not that he thinks you ever doubt it. How could you? But sometimes, he thinks, it bears repeating.

“You haven’t made a mess, luv. But even if you did, I’m always right here with a mop, yeah?”

He’d burn alive just to keep you warm. Drown to fetch you a glass of water. Anything, everything. Just so long as you’re still here, still his.

“I’ll take care of this and then come home to you. Due for a holiday anyway.”

You close your eyes, a faint little smile tilting your lips. He can’t look away. Never can.

“We can go on that camping trip you’ve been talking about,” you say.

“Yeah, luv. Toast marshmallows like the old days.”

You hum, a proper smile finally blooming across your face.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Promise you’ll come back. Both of you.”

“Promise. Be good for Price while I’m gone.”

You open your eyes, a mischievous sparkle in them. “We’ll see.”

—

You see him off on the tarmac, serene and assured. Stripped of faith and belief, there is one certainty in your life, always and forever. And it’s Simon. He’s going to come home to you, because he promised he would.

“Raise hell, Si.”

“Already raised the dead,” he muses, hell shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Aye, I’ve got just the C-for it.”

You groan at the joke, but don’t deny Johnny a parting hug and peck on the cheek. “Look out for each other.”

“Will do, hen.”

You don’t hug or kiss Simon. Don’t need to, you’ve said your goodbyes. You squeeze his hand and then step back as he heads for the plane with Johnny chattering all the way.

“Alright, little miss?” Price asks when it’s just the two of you.

“Always,” you reply, turning to smile at him.

You have to be, for Simon.

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 6

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: It seems like whenever you and Eddie are happily content in your relationship, everyone else is miserable. What happens when your job and his fame is on the line once the secret’s out?

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: I want to thank you guys again for the immense amount of support! I swear I never expected this series to blow up the way it did but I am so fucking grateful. No words can describe it ❤️❤️ This chapter’s a little angsty, little fluffy. It was supposed to be a really long chapter but I’ve decided to split it into the next chapter but it’ll still be about two chapters left. I’m sorry I took soooo long it’s been one hell of a week but I do hope you all enjoy!! SMUT NEXT CHAPTER GONNA GO BRAZY

>>>>Series Masterlist Part 6 of 8

Word Count: 8.5k+

Warnings: angsty, fluffy fluff 😊❤️, soft!eddie, boyfriend!eddie, needy!eddie, yandere!eddie makes a small appearance, fighting/little violence, little crying, reader paints eddie’s nails, small dirty talk from the metalhead, kissing, handholding, secret relationship, reader has an enemy, marijuana ingestion, Stevie Nicks appearance, special gift from reader to Eddie 💕

“Hold still. You’re gonna mess it up.” You giggle.

Eddie’s sat between your legs, slumped with his head on your chest. The way he insisted you to paint his nails because “it’ll be like painting your own nails”. Although, you knew the real reason was an excuse to rest his head on the pillowy mounds.

You didn’t mind, though. You found him so adorable, staring up at you with those big round eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He’s much more manageable when he’s in this state of bliss.

“You’re taking so long,” He groans.

“I’m almost done, ya big baby.” You say, kissing his forehead. He smiles, rubbing your thigh with his free hand.

You blow on the last finger you’ve painted, him studying the way your full lips pursed. The cool air sending shivers down his spine. Part of him wishes you hadn’t felt it but the other part of him wants you to know the effect you had on him.

He’s never been so vulnerable with any woman he’s dated. It was always surface level, figuring it was just easier that way. He believes it stems from his days back in high school when not many girls cared to look in his direction. He was “The Freak” after all and associating with him was social suicide. He’d like to imagine that if things had gone differently back then with your interaction with him, you’d accept him fully as he was. Nerd and all.

“All done!” You snap him from his thoughts. He looks down at his fingernails painted a deep, dark shade of blue.

“Looks great, little vixen. Should we try them out?” He peels away from your body now facing you. Pulling you by your legs so their spread apart. He climbs in between them, hands traveling up both thighs.

“I think they’d look great riiight…” Eddie presses two fingers against your clothed core, applying pressure. “Here.”

“No, Eddie,” You sigh. “As much as, I’d love to christen this hotel room. Your manager and your stylist will be stopping by soon. If they see me in your clothes, they’ll know for sure we’re sleeping together.”

“What does it matter? It’s like you want this to be a secret or something.”

“Well…yeah.” You twiddle with your fingers, nervously.

“Really? Huh. This is bringing up some unresolved high school trauma.” Eddie says, looking into space.

“I thought this was what we both wanted? To protect our careers?”

“I don’t remember having this talk.”

“Then, let’s have it now. We have to keep us a secret. If my boss finds out, he might pull the exposé and that’ll be the end of my career. As for you, rockstar, you’re supposed to be living that bachelor lifestyle. Having a girlfriend is only going to ruin that image. Your manager wouldn’t like that.”

“Fuck him.”

“Eds…if not for me, then do it for yourself. You’re living out your wildest dreams. You used to play in shady garages and ghost town venues wishing you could prove yourself. Now you’re touring the world, performing side by side with the greats of our time. This is your moment.”

“Okay.” He says in a dry tone.

“You mad at me?” You pout, rubbing your head on his shoulder like a cat and staring up at him,

His expressionless face instantly attempts to fight off a smile, clearly amused. “You look so cute in my sweater how can I be mad. But ya know what’d make me feel really good?”

You clamped your thighs together, adjusting yourself in the oversized sweater so you looked halfway decent. “Your manager’ll show up any moment now.”

“I just want a kiss.”

“I have to leave while I still have time.”

“You’re really gonna leave me hangin’?” He smiles innocently but the sinister aura around him says otherwise.

Yet, you lean in to kiss him anyway, falling into his trap of temptation. Could such sinful lips ever carry innocence? No, they were made to cause destruction. Bring you to your end. You were losing track of reality. Kissing him disregards space and time.

“Get it together, y/n! He wants this. Pull away! You know what this lead to.” Says the angel on your shoulder.

But the louder, ‘much more fun to listen to’ demon on your shoulder says, “FUCK THAT! KISS THE BOY! KISS HIM HARDDD!”

And you did so while climbing him like a tree. He moans his approval, nails digging into your plushy thighs. You circle your hips down, feeling him growing beneath.

Then, you hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s obnoxiously loud manager…In front of Eddie’s door!!

Curse that hedonistic bitch in me.

You roll off him, eyes searching for a place to hide just as you hear a knock.

“This is your fault.” You whisper.

“My fault?!” He whisper-yells.

“Tell me where to hide.”

“The closet?”

“They’ll go through your wardrobe.”

“Underneath the bed?”

You exhaled deeply, lowering to the ground. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is college all over again.”

“You’ve gotta tell me that story sometime.” He says, intrigued.

The sounds of banging grows louder. Eddie strides for the door, looking back to make sure that you’re hidden as you roll underneath the bed.

You hear the door locks click open and Mr. Neds immediately begins ranting at Eddie. “What took you so long, kid? We’re on crunch time. The boys are nearly dressed and you haven’t even changed out of your loungewear. And that hair! It’s all over the place!Where’s the hairstylist I sent up here?”

So that was all the knocking earlier this morning while you were resting in Eddie’s arms. Neither of you wanting to get up from exhaustion of your sexual marathon and because it meant breaking the cycle of warmth you both provided one another.

“My hair’s fine. My fans dig it this way.” Eddie defends.

“There’s an art to messy hair, Francis. Your hair’s not rockstar messy, it’s just messy. I’m calling another hairstylist. Maeve, pick out something that screams ‘sex symbol’.” Mr. Neds orders, walking out the room.

“Hello, Mr Francis,” The stylist greets, excitedly. “I’ll be your stylist for this tour. When I’m done, you’ll look as good as Mick Jagger. Although…you already are quite good looking.”

You roll your eyes at this. Here we go.

“I’m a huge fan by the way. Possibly the biggest fan.”She giggles, a hint a seduction paints her words.

“I like when pretty girls like you listen to my music.” You can just hear the smugness in his voice. He’s clearly aware that you’re listening in all of this, possibly thinking he could make you jealous. Ha! Not gonna happen.

She giggles some more. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Course I do, doll.”

Doll?! That bastard!

“I’ll go pick out your clothes and maybe…you could get out of those clothes. I can help you if you’d like.”She lays it on thick.

You’re sure that Eddie’s going to push this further to get a rise out of you. You can already feel your blood begin to boil, your heart aching. Instead, you’re stunned to hear him drop the act.

“Actually, Maeve...I’ll pass. Hope you can respect that.”

“Oh, a-are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” She grumbles in defeat. “I’ll get started with the outfit choices then.”

You smile to yourself, impressed. You hadn’t realize just how devoted Eddie was to this relationship. He meant it when he said you were his and he couldn’t possibly think of hurting you in such a way and messing things up.

The door swings open again and Mr. Neds walks in along with bandmate, Mel Tomas. Mel does a spin around flashing his look for Eddie to see. “I’m not sure how she’ll top this look for you. Pretty sure I’m hot enough to be the new favorite of the band.” He flexes his arms.

Eddie gestures discreetly with his eyes, calling the attention of the bass guitarist. Mel confused at first, scratches his head only for his eyes to immediately widen when he spots you beneath. You wave and smile awkwardly.

“Anyone want towels?” Mel blurts.

“What?” Mr. Neds questions. “The hell would we need towels for?”

“You’re looking a little sweaty, big guy. No worries. I’ll get the towel cart from the hall and bring it in here.” Mel projects his voice, hinting his plan while causing Maeve and Mr. Neds to stare in utter bewilderment.

Mel returns with the cart. Eddie doing all he can to stifle his laughter, watching him roll it in for you. For you to climb into the bottom shelf. A towel is draped over the sides to keep you from being spotted. He throws a towel for everyone in the room to keep any suspicions. “Going into the hallway now.” He calls out.

It’s a good thing he didn’t go into acting.

Once you’re a far distance enough, you crawl out and brought yourself to your feet. Mel shakes his head at you. “Et tú, y/n?”

“I know what it looks like…but it’s really not what you think it is.”

“I think it looks like you two are a thing.”

“Okay, so it is what you think. Please don’t tell anyone.” You clasp your hands together, pleading.

“Your secret’s safe with me. I’m just surprised Eddie managed to win you over.”

“Ughh, you say it like I’m some trophy.” You roll your eyes.

“Didn’t mean any offense. It’s just you’re so much badass than he’ll ever be.” He laughs, nudging your shoulder.

You flip your hair dramatically, smirking. “This is why you’re the smart one.”

—————

Mantra•esque. It was this generation’s Woodstock. 4 days of the hottest artists performing and Corroded Coffin’s making its large scale debut. People took this festival very seriously. Both when it came to the musical performances and the way you dress. You don’t go dressed in a casual t-shirt with your favorite band plastered on it. No. This was meant to be treated as if going to a rave. Brightly colored, scantily clad outfits that leave little to the imagination; Glitter makeup and wild hair; Eccentric shoes and body bedazzle, it was the time to dress like the hottest alien in town. A second halloween, if you will. Only even sluttier.

You’ve heard nothing or seen anything like it but it’s eye opening to say the least. With the help of your best friend over the phone, you’d managed to pick out a butterfly-themed rave look of a pink body suit accompanied with wings, fishnet tights, combat boots, body glitter and makeup.

Eddie didn’t let you out of his sight the moment you’d made it to the festival pit. He wouldn’t risk any guy trying to sweet talk you and him not being able to do anything about it.

He takes your hand and you know you should pull your hand away since there are all these witnesses. Yet, you romanticized the idea of him shamelessly holding your hand to show you off as his.

“When do you and the boys go up?”

“We go right Hell’s Fury. They’re a new band, too. They’re not so bad. The lead guitarist could use some lessons though.”

“Can’t you give a compliment without backhanding it.” You laugh.

“It’s not a backhanded compliment. It’s criticism and feedback. You of all people should understand, little miss journalist.”

“Well, that may be true but—” You let out an audibly gasp when you reach around the backstage, spotting a the very famous Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac. “T-t-that’s Ste—Do you know who that is?!”

“Of course I—”

“Stevie Nicks!” You interrupt, shrieking.

“That was right in my ear,” Eddie says, wagging a finger in his ear. “Wanna go over to meet her?”

“N-no way. I couldn’t. They say you should never meet your heroes. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Not possible. You get a chance to be this close to her. Ya gotta go for it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just gonna walk up and say ‘hi’.” You stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie whispers.

“I will!” You say, defiantly as you continue to still in position.

He sighs. “I’ve got this, little one.”

He walks forward. You follow quickly behind him, hiding yourself like a scared kitten as you peeked over his shoulder.

Stevie Nicks spots your approach, amused when you shy away from her gaze. Eddie breaks the ice, chatting her up and introducing himself before making the final introduction for you.

“This is Y/n, she’s…my g—good friend.” He saves his near slip of the tongue. “Come on, Don’t be shy.”

He steps out of the way, revealing you to the singer. Your knees knock from your evident trembling. “M-m-my name is Y/n. B-but you already know that because h-h-he just introduced me. I’m a huge fan and I-I just wanted to say hi. So…hi!”

You say the last part a bit too loudly, causing her to jolt back but her smile never falters. Eddie smiles as well, entertained by the idea that you do actually fangirl.

It was clear to Stevie that there was something more between you. It was Stevie freaking Nicks. She sensed these things and the tension radiating between you two was as heated as the sun. “Isn’t it interesting how two people from very different worlds find each other?”

“Huh?” You both say simultaneously.

She giggles. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/n. Here,” She turns her attention to Eddie, removing the shawl around her shoulders and handing it to him. “A gift from me…to you…to her. Let her know you’ve got her and there’s no need to fight the feeling. I’ve gotta go in 5 but this was nice. Lookin’ forward to seeing you play, Francis. Good luck.”

She walks off, joining her group and leaving you soaring in your mind. You twirled around to face Eddie, jumping up and down in excitement. “You heard what she said. That’s for me.”

“She also said to stop fighting the feeling, yet you do. All the time. I’m starting to believe the old man at the diner was speaking specifically about you.“

“So I shouldn’t fight the rage I’m feeling towards you right now?” You hissed.

“What if…I give you your gift after the show?”

“Or…” You quickly retrieve the shawl, wrapping it around his neck and tugging him closer to you. “I could have it now and you’ll be rewarded for introducing me to my idol.”

You tug at the ends of the apparel a final time, forcing his lips to collide against yours. He smiles into the kiss and it makes you do the same. Once you pulled away, you snake the shawl from around him and brought it to your shoulders.

“What can I say? I had to stand up for my girl,” You blush at his words only to immediately sneer as the next sentence leave his lips. “You were such a goddamn scaredy cat.”

“It’s Fleetwood Mac.” You say, matter-of-factly.

“I mean, Stevie Nick’s great and all…but she’s no Metallica or Ozzy.”

“Oh, Quit the ‘cool dude’ act. I saw you blushing when she said she’d be watching you on stage. Also, I may have done some digging in your hidden cassettes collection. I know for sure you were internally screaming in her presence. Nothing to be ashamed of, though. Just means you’ve got great taste.”

He scrunches up his nose in adorably feigned anger. “You’re too nosy for your own good.”

“It’s only ever for my own good.”

——————

“You go on in 15, boys,” Mr. Neds announces, bum-rushing through the dressing trailer. “Pull yourselves together. Junie, ya getting this?”

“Ya know it, boss.” The photographer says, flashing the boys for another photo and blinding them.

“Hey! What happened to the photographer my boss specifically chose to accompany me?” You inquire the manager, crossing your arms.

“Oh, that guy? He didn’t make the cut. I’m looking for state of the art photos iconic enough to be plastered in every teen girl’s bedroom. Junie, here, knows what the girls want.” Mr. Neds says, pridefully. He pats his photographer on the shoulder, leaving the trailer to talk about their plans for a calendar edition.

“That’s disturbing,” You muttered before noticing the state of anxiety the boys were currently in. Each boy having their own fears.

Mel’s worries involved his outfit not being flashy enough. Judas’s worries involved his many exes being in the crowd seeking his head. Jessie’s worries involve his irrational fear of him popping a boner on stage while performing his drum solo.

Then there was Eddie, who was a mix of all their anxieties and more. What if he missed a beat, or he sings off key, or his hand cramps up during his guitar solo? He was THEE Francis the Freak. The lead man. The one who inspired the band itself. There was no room to fuck up or it meant the end for all of Corroded Coffin.

“You boys don’t look so good.” You say, concerned.

“I’ve gotta change my clothes.” Mel says, rushing over to the clothing rack.

“I’ve gotta find a helmet.” Judas says, also rummaging through wardrobe.

“I’ve gotta get duct tape.” Jessie searches through a nearby drawer.

Confused, you shook your head focusing on your boyfriend. “Eddie…you okay?”

“I don’t know about this, Y/n. Maybe we’ll just call this a night.”

“You can’t! You’ve performed in front of a crowd before. I’ve seen you up there. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re amazing.”

“You’ve seen me in decently-sized venues. But this…the whole world’s watching,” He lets out a dry laugh. “This was Corroded Coffin’s dream. The real Corroded Coffin. My buddies Gareth, Sid and Jeff were the ones meant to be by my side rocking the fuck out, headbanging, and saying ‘fuck all’ to whoever. But now it’s just me with these random dudes and I’m supposed to pretend like it’s always been this way.”

You hug around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But your friends are probably watching somewhere back in Hawkins, waiting to see you live out your moment. They wouldn’t want you to miss this opportunity because of them. Would they?”

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Exactly. Again, if this isn’t what you want then you don’t have to go out there. But if it is, then you show them who you are. You’re not just Francis. You’re Eddie Munson of Hawkins, Indiana. The Freak with insane guitar skills and crazy vocals. The mop-headed metalhead that shredded ‘Master of Puppets’ in a room full of boring Hollywood executives. You aren’t you because you’re famous. You’re who you are because that’s just who you are. No other explanation. And even if things get overwhelming and you decide you’ve had enough of this, you’ll always have me cheering you on in the sidelines because I believe in you. I always did.” You look up at him, feeling him let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You gave him a small smile.

“That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

“Knew it would,” You say, brushing your shoulder in a celebratory manner. “You go and get those boys together. You’ve got a crowd to amaze.”

He nods, a newfound confidence taking over. Striding over to his silly bandmates, he cups his hands over his mouth to project his voice. “Hey, fuckwads,” The boys quickly halt their actions, turning their attention to the leas singer. He continues. “We’ve got 10 minutes before it’s showtime and you’re all acting as if you were caught with your hands on your dicks.”

Eddie pauses, glaring at Jessie who quickly pulls his hands out of his jeans.

“This isn’t new to us. We’ve been here before. It’s bigger and scarier. No doubt. But we’re better than this. We’re better than that fucking Hell’s Fury band and they went out there despite having the world’s shittiest guitarist. No more backing out. No more excuses. Today’s the day to prove ourselves. Now are we gonna rock the fuck out or not?!”

“I was born ready, ya cunt.” Judas chortles.

“Watch your female-targeted language. There’s a lady in here, you fuckin idiot.” Jessie disapproves.

“Sorry. ‘I was born ready, ya vagina.’ Satisfied?”

“I’m ready, too.” Mel chimes in.

“Then, let’s do this shit,” Eddie says, encouragingly. “We’ve got 5 minutes until spotlight. We’re movin out.”

With that, the boys hooted and hollered before rushing out of the trailer. Eddie nearly running behind them when he notices you staying back.

“You coming?”

“I won’t be standing side stage. I’ll lay my blanket front row with all the other sleazy journalists,” You quip. “That way you won’t have to constantly look on the side of you to make sure I’m there.”

“But I’ll be able to see you, right?”

“Of course…ooh!” You were just reminded of something. Rummaging through your small butterfly-winged backpack, you pulled out a little gift. “I was gonna wait til after the performance but I think you might need it. Just for a little boost.”

He looks down at it and smiles. It was the famous green mushroom sweater that he’d complimented you for years ago.

“You’ve given me enough gifts so that’s my gift to you.”

“Thanks, little vixen,” His famous smile returns, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “This’ll be perfect. See you after the show?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be waiting for you.”

——————

You quickly went to take your place in the front, noticing the band’s manager walking briskly up and down near the stage. The photographer beside him, flashing away with his camera at the empty stage.

“Have a seat, you two,” You say, patting the clear space on your blanket. “All this pacing back and forth and flashing is giving me headache. You’re going to ruin the experience for everyone.”

“I can’t help it! My ass is on the line with these boys.” Mr. Neds voices.

“Have a little faith. Now sit down or I’ll make the crowd revolt against you.” You threatened.

“Ughh, fine.” Mr. Neds plops down.

“The camera boy, too.” You ordered.

“But…”

“Sit!”

He quickly, sits down. “It’s Junie by the way. Not camera boy.”

“Don’t care.” You shrug.

The stage lights wave around at the crowd before shutting off. The stage going dark. Everyone waits in anticipation. Silence. The sound of a guitar rift pierces the air and the clashing of cymbals ring out then you hear one that familiar guttural screamo voice as the song “Follow the Leader” begins to play.

“Take me to your leader. I will fuck him up then eat her. I’m fuckin bottom feeder. A fiending twisted creature…”

The lights flash up, revealing the band. The crowd goes berserk, screaming and immediately rising to their feet to dance.

Mr. Neds’s big smile quickly falls flat. “What the fuck is he wearing?”

Eddie had removed the ripped up tank top shirt that the stylist had given him. Instead he’s shirtless, donning your mushroom sweater.

“Whoooo!” You cheered on, jumping and clapping as the song picked up. Even Junie had eaten up the look, taking pictures of the band in every angle he could think of.

Once Mel takes over with vocals, Eddie shoots you a quick wink and you nearly fangirled yourself. Maybe someday, you’ll let him know that you were secretly a new fan of his. Once his ego deflates, of course.

Assuming that’s something that could possibly happen.

You felt your stomach grumble when you spot Junie scarfing down a brownie.

“Where’d you get that?” You ask.

“Some really nice girls over there said it’ll be just what I need. I wasn’t even aware I was hungry.”

“Let me get a bite. I’m starved.”

He hands it over to you. You bite into it and it tasted slightly off. Aside from that, it was the right texture. Soft and sweet.

“This is so good.” You moaned.

“I know right.” Junie through bites.

“Wanna bite, Mr.Neds?” You offered.

“No, my blood sugars already so high, my stress levels are through the roof, my diet’s gone to shit…”

“Boy, you need a vacation. More for me and Junie boy.” You say, popping another piece into your mouth.

———

After two encores, the band finished their first day on stage. 3 more days to go and so far it looks to be a success. Once all performances ended, it was time for the after party. A large bonfire set up.

By this point, a familiar feeling took over you. The same feeling you felt when you smoked that joint with Eddie back home. Then, you realized…you were high as fuck. Higher than a motherfucking kite. This is exactly what your mother warned you about all those years. Taking goodies from a stranger is bad. Very bad.

You and Junie were laughing away at just about anything. “I don’t know if you noticed this, Junie, but we just ate pot brownies.”

“I’ve never been high.” He laughs.

“Neither have I up until about couple weeks ago.” You huffed another fit of laughter.

“You’re both idiots,” Mr. Neds mutters. “You’ve got jobs to do. Search for those boys and take some pictures and write something inspirational. Time is money.”

“Take a chill pill.” You say, rolling your eyes. Standing to your feet, you began your search for Eddie through the crowd. The thing about these hippie festivals is that every long-haired man reminded you of him.

“Eddie?!” You say turning over a random guy. Not him. Then another. And another until you bumped into a hard chest. You quickly turned to apologize. “S-sorry. I’m looking for my boyfriend—hey! I know you! You’re that prick photographer from Billy’s bar. You set me up with that photo. I hope you know.”

“Why is it that I always happen to meet you when you’re under the influence?”

“I’m not drunk, okay. I’m just a little high. Excuse me for thinking people give away brownies for the kindness of it all. What are you doing here, anyway?“

“I travel where the story goes. I also follow celebrities in search for my next project. And I’ll have you know, I didn’t take that picture of you and Francis.”

“You expect me to believe you? You can wait til hell freezes over and I wouldn’t believe you. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you were about to walk away, he stops you in his tracks as he says, “Why? Looking to meet up with your boyfriend…Francis?”

“What are you talking about?”

“So where’s that boyfriend you’ve been looking for? If not Francis, then who’s the lucky man?” He says, dropping the innocent act.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to insinuate but Francis and I…are strictly professional.”

“Then, show me your boyfriend.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Because you have something to hide.”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business!”

“I’m her boyfriend,” You hear behind you. It was Junie the photographer, unceremoniously yet heroically stumbling over to you. “So back off buddy.”

“And you’re expecting me to believe this loser’s with you?” Cole laughs.

“Let’s go, Junie.” You grab his hand only for Cole to break the contact.

“Let’s be honest here, Y/n,” Cole invades your space. “Creative to Creative. We both know the truth.”

“Leave us alone.” You growl, trying to leave but Cole continues to block your path. A crowd soon beginning to form.

“Let us go!” Junie attempts to swing at Cole, who catches his fist in midair, punching him so hard it knocks him backward. The back of Junie’s head rears back, slamming against your mouth as you catch him before he could hit the ground. Your lips split and bleed but you ignore the sting, tending to the poor guy.

“Junie!” You call out, worried, before shooting daggers at Cole. “You asshole!”

“Hey, man. That’s not cool.” Says a voice from the crowd.

“None of this concerns you! Any of you. This is business! The whore’s not gonna get away with it.”

“Say that again.” A familiar voice says, the crowd parts a path for a very heated Eddie.

Cole smiles, wickedly. “Finally! This is what the fuck I’ve been waiting for. A goddamn hell of a story.”

Eddie sees you on your knees, cradling the wounded photographer. He sees red when he spots your busted lip, stomping forward towards his target.

“Eddie! Wait!” You forgotten to use his stage name around the crowd, more concerned with stopping him from doing anything that would get him in serious trouble. He looks back at you, still pissed as ever. You warm up your expression. “Don’t do it. Let’s just get out of here.”

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Cole convinced that he wouldn’t dare listen to you as a hotheaded rockstar. But Eddie does, glaring at the sorry excuse of a man one last time before helping you up as well as Junie.

“I’m sorry,” He says, regretfully. “I should’ve looked for you. It was just so many people that I couldn’t get to you.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled. Patting Junie on the shoulder, Eddie led the way to leave. The crowd cheers and it causes the testosterone in the instigating enemy to rise.

“Have fun with another one of your whores, Francis.” Cole calls out.

Eddie stops in his tracks and you knew all hell will break loose. “No, Eddie. Don’t!”

He turns on his heels, rushing over to the heckling fool. Cole believes he’ll get a one up on Eddie, swinging his fist to connect with his face. Eddie reverses this action using Cole’s own hand to punch him square in the face.

The crowd cheers and laughs as a disoriented Cole falls back into the dirt.

Walking back over to you, Eddie rolls his shoulders to release any tension. “You’re my witness. He punched himself.”

———-

The night started out celebratory. The group popping champagne in Eddie’s hotel room. It was supposed to be a night out in town to end the night right but the boys had another 3 days to perform so they would soon be heading to bed.

“You were incredible, Junie. Super brave. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” You say, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, that was pretty badass.” Eddie compliments.

“Aww, it’s no big. Always wanted to get in a fight with a guy that looked like my high school bully.” Junie comments.

“So that’s why I got my ass kicked at my party. You two were an item the entire time,” Jessie says. “You gonna kick every guy’s ass that even remotely stands near her?”

“Oh, hell yeah. 100%.” Eddie affirms.

“What did I tell you?” You say, tugging on his ear. “I can handle myself.”

“Ow, ow, ow. My ears are still freshly pierced.” Eddie hisses.

The group laughs and the festivities continue up until there’s a hard knock on the door that halts it altogether. Eddie answers the door and the look on his manager’s face indicated that this was no joyous news.

“Awww, what is it now? You’re harshing our mellow, man.” Eddie groans.

“Yeah, what’s got your knickers in a twist?” Judas questions.

“The executive editor of Hey Hello Magazine is thinking of pressing charges.” Mr. Neds says, solemnly.

“Why would the editor…oh my god?” It just hit you that Cole was not only a photographer but a writer of that magazine.

“What is going on with you, Eddie? I used to beg you to take on the bad boy persona in interview now all of a sudden your exactly that,” Mr. Neds sighs. “You’ve fought your bandmate and now you’re getting into fights with influential writers? What is it? What’s making you act out of control?”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, back at you. You shake your head, fearing he’s give it up.

He looks back at his manager. “It’s nothing…. The dickhead started it first. I didn’t punch him. He punched himself and he’s too embarrassed to admit it.”

“No more of these shenanigans, Eddie. You’re actions have consequences. To lessen your erratic behavior, I’ve come up with a solution you won’t like but it’s for your own good. I’ll be assigning you all bodyguards.”

“Nooo.” “What the fuck?” “Are kidding me?” The boys protest all at once.

“Yes. Because even if you didn’t start the fight, people will look for a fight just to ruin your careers because of jealousy and greed. People are searching for big payouts and assault from a famous star is their big break. But luckily for you, the editor has agreed to drop all charges on one condition.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“He wants a meeting…with your journalist.”

“Hell no.” He growls.

“It’s not your choice. It’s the lady’s. So..whadya say say, Y/n?” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you.

“I’ll do it.” You say with no hesitation.

“Great! I’ll make the arrangements.”

Eddie glares at you. “Would you all excuse me? I’m going to escort my journalist to her room. She’s not thinking straight with all the pot she’s ingested.”

He takes your hand, leading you out his door and towards yours. “What the hell? Why’d you agree to it? It’s only what he wants.”

“Because it’ll get him to shut up. He’s riding the high of this story he thinks he’ll get from me and you.. His issues are with me and only I can end it.”

“If I knew the journalism world was this bad, I would’ve never signed up for this expose and put you through this.”

“But then we’d never be the way we are now. I don’t regret that. Do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, let me do this for you.” You cup his face, fingers laced in his curls.

He nods.

“You looked good in my sweater, by the way.” You smiled, playfully.

He smirks. “Wanna taken it off?”

“I want to. So bad and so much. But I’m sooo high.”

“That’s one of the best time to fuck.”

“Everyone’s right across the hall and I don’t think I’m sober enough to be quiet. Buuut… you can put me to bed in the non-sexual way.” You smiled, turning around and pulling off your tiny bag and the shawl for him to access your zipper.

He lowers it, slowly bringing down your bodysuit to kiss your shoulder. It all felt so sensual. The bodysuit pools around your feet. Your bare breasts make contact with the cool air, sensitive buds hardening. You were only in your black thong and fishnets.

He runs his large hands over the front of your thighs, pressing his erection against your ass. Hooking his index fingers in the sides of your tights, he brings them down your legs as well.

When you felt him try to do the same with your panties, you pull away. “You’re being naughty.”

“Why are you being such a tease?” He groans. “I thought you were mine.”

“I am yours.”

“Then, show me.”

You chuckled, crawling onto your bed on all fours. You exaggerated the arch in your back, ass in the air as you swayed side to side. Then, you roll into the shawl wrapping it around you and shielding your breasts from his eager eyes.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Eddie.”

“Hope you know that this will be the most energetic I’ll be for these few days. If you don’t take advantage now…you’ll regret it.” He singsongs the last part.

“Goodnight.” You singsong back, curling up to your pillow.

He couldn’t help but laugh, staring down at your exhausted figure. Pulling the blanket over you, He kisses your forehead. “No more taking brownies from strangers.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

He tries to remove the shawl around you but you grip it tighter in your slumber. With one last smile, he shuts off the lights and leaves you to dream peacefully.

——————-

The next day would be hell for you and Eddie. You didn’t even get the chance to see him much. His entire day was spent rehearsing for day two of tonight’s festival. Meanwhile, you’d gotten a call from Murray who was very disappointed in you for being behind on your work, so you spent your day writing with little motivation.

You’re mind had gone elsewhere. To more pressing depressing matters. Cole. Your new arch nemesis. Your rivalry. Your enemy. All the names in the book that would describe his fate in your eyes. He needed to go down and hard. But how?

Tonight, you’ll be missing Corroded Coffin’s second appearance because you were meeting up with him to discuss whatever his evil plans were for you.

All you could do is see off the boys in the afternoon as they gathered onto the giant tour bus toward destination.

“You really don’t have to do this? I can just get a lawyer. He wouldn’t stand a chance.” Eddie says.

“I need to do this or he’ll just keep coming after me. You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” He nods. “I’ll see you late tonight?”

“What about your new friends?” You whispered, gesturing to the two giant bodyguards a few feet behind him.

“I have my ways.” He smirks, mischievously.

“Whatever you plan on doing…don’t.” You teased, pulling his hat over his face.

He lifts the brim over his eyes with a finger. “This is why I don’t wear these darn things. I’ll be noting this to Maeve,” He jokes, then spreads out his arms for a hug. You go in for a handshake instead, reminding him that you were both in public.He reluctantly shakes it.

With a final goodbye from the boys, everyone boarded the bus and were off on the road.

Now that they were off doing their work, you’ll be doing yours. It was time to dive into the mind of the sleaziest journalist. If this was a dog eat dog world then you’ll gladly join the game. You were going to get some dirt on Cole and make him pay.

——————

You sat across the devil in a tea shop. He smiles a dangerous smile, believing he’s won.

“First, I wanna start off by saying that I apologize to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean to call you a whore.”

“Fuck you. I don’t care for your apologies.”

“You’re very well entitled to not forgive me. I just needed to get that off my chest. How’s your lip, by the way? It doesn’t look bad from what I see.”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Cole. I’m not here for small talk. What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you trying to sabotage my exposé?”

“Because you’ve talked down on my Magazine enough. You and your company! Then you write this article and now you’re all I see. Everywhere. ‘30 Days With A Rockstar’. I’ve had enough! But soon… the world will know the truth. ‘Francis The Freak dating his journalist?’. Your exposé will be seen as bias. And my story on you will crush yours.”

“So you started a fight and threatened to press charges…because you want to make a better story?”

“I was never going to press any actual charges. I just knew it was the only way you’d agree to meet me again. Because you care about him. Because you’re a couple.”

“We’re not!”

“I have eyes all around, Y/n. I really didn’t take that photo of you and Francis at the bar. But I did write the article. I’ll admit it. As you already know, I’m the exec and lead editor of Hey Hello and I don’t take to kindly of the slander my company’s faced at the hands of your company. So, I’ll give you three options. Either work with me and give me the rights to your story or you could tell me the full story about you and Francis or I can really press charges and everyone loses.”

“How about a fourth option? You leave me and Francis alone…and I won’t put out an article about you getting sexual favors from your female employees so they can secure their jobs. Abuse of power story? You’ll never work in this business again.”

His eyes widened. “I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Tell that to the several employees that have come forward to personally speak with me. I have eyes and ears, too, ya know.”

“You bitch!” He snarled.

“Awww, I thought we were friends.” You teased, pouting.

“You just wait. I will find the truth. And when I do, you’ll be just another slut that fell for a trashy rockstar.”

You slap him, causing him to yelp. “Go ahead and press charges on me, too. Fuck you and your shitty magazine.”

You shot up from your seat, walking out. Not once looking back. Little did he know, you’d already released the article on him. That morning, you’d found your motivation to write after all.

———

It was 3 am and the Band had yet returned. Even if you wanted to see Eddie, you knew his guards would be right outside his door, keeping you seeing him at these hours.

Right now you’re lying in bed, moping as you began to question your relationship. Maybe you’d both jumped into it too soon. Everything is moving so fast and now you had a huge target on your back which, in turn, would effect Eddie.

Little taps hit against your window, you rise your head up in confusion. You sauntered over to the window, lifting it up and glancing down. Eddie waves at you from below.

“Eddie!”

“Shhhh!” He holds out his hands, signifying you to lower your voice.

“How’d you get out here? I thought you’d be guarded up in your hotel room.”

“I snuck out. Climbed out my window and took the stairs on the side of the building. Told you I’d come see you so here I am. Now you climb out.”

“No! It’s dangerous,” You stared in horror at the rickety metal stairs. “These look all rusty and unstable.”

“But I’ve got somewhere to show you.” He says, throwing up his arms in frustration.

“Fine, but I’m going out and down on the elevator like a normal person.”

“All that work when you could just come down this way?”

“It’s not work. It’s safe.” You throw on a coat over your nightgown and then some boots, before heading out the door. The bodyguards outside Eddie’s door spot you.

“Just leaving for some fresh air.” You explained, nervously. They turned their attention away from you, speaking amongst themselves.

You rushed down to the lobby and made it out to see Eddie, turning to smile as he held out his hand. You take it and he immediately leads the way.

“You’re a bad influence.” You laugh.

“So, I’ve been told.”

It was not a far distance from the hotel where you headed off to. You found yourself at an intimate park setting that had a showing of ‘Rocky Picture Horror Show’ playing on a big projector screen. Couples sitting on their respective blankets as they watched the film.

“I love this movie.” You whispered.

“Yeah? So do I.”

He lays out the blanket for you both to sit, finding a nice spot in a corner by the bushes.

“How’d you know they’d be playing a showing so late this night?”

“Dirk told me.”

“You mean the lead guitarist from Hell’s Fury. You’re on first name bases now? Are you going to braid each other’s hairs, too?”

“Please stop talking,” He says, trying not to laugh. “He’s actually not a bad guy. Hell of a stoner, though.”

“Glad your meeting more people in your circle.”

He nods. “I guess.”

“Thank you for bringing me out here. I needed this. Especially, after my meet up with that loser.”

“How was it?”

“This guy’s been on my tail the entire time since I’ve started this article. He’s been jealous of my success. The misogynistic pig. He said either I tell him about us or join him.”

“Join him? Like Darth Vader?”

“You nerd,” You giggled. “Yeah, just like Darth Vader.”

“So what happened after that?”

“I blackmailed him. Told him I’d out his scandal about his power imbalance and perverted behavior towards his female colleagues. I’m already in the works of outing him, though. No woman should ever work with that creep.”

“Ooo, you can get dirty.”

You shrug, playing off cool. “I can be a real bitch.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Fuck you!” You shove him, saying it loud enough for a couple people to shush you.

“Sorry.” You and Eddie whisper in unison.

——

It’s now 5 am. You’re on your way back to the hotel, laughing and quoting lines from the movie. Eddie insisted you both take the metal stairs this time which you reluctantly take. Him following close behind in case you faint from looking down. When you made it to your window, you climbed in first.

“We’re a little like Romeo and Juliet. Don’t ya think?It’s kinda romantic.”

He kisses you softly after you say this, making your steady heartbeat pound furiously in your chest. He breaks the kiss, licking his lips.

“Does Romeo get to climb into Juliet’s window and rock her world?”

“I thought you wouldn’t have energy for that?”

“I’ve got enough.” He attempts to climb in but you put your hand over his face, stopping him.

“No. You need sleep, big boy. Your day begins at 7.”

“You’re really missing out on some blessings, little vixen. I’m in the mood to eat pussy.”

You shuddered. So. Very. Tempting. That mouth as infuriating as it can be when he spoke, it was just as talented at many other things including knowing it’s way around the female anatomy. “I’ll pass.” You squeaked.

“Sure bout that? I’m looking to make those legs shake. Fuck you with my fingers and tongue,” He does have a nice, thick…long tongue. “Drink you til your stupid and can barely speak.”

You clamp your thighs together. “Ughh, no!”

Mustering up the shred of restraint you had left, you shut the window and locked it, leaving him standing there dazed.

His face drops in a dull look as he sticks up his two middle fingers at you. You do the same, causing you both to burst with laughter. With a final dramatic bow, he says his goodbye and makes his exit down the stairs.

You flung yourself onto the mattress. You couldn’t believed you turned him down. He’s literally your fucking boyfriend! Take advantage! Where was the shoulder demon bitch when ya needed her?!

God, that pretty mouth. I’m such a stupid bitch.

Then, your mind recalled Chrissy’s ‘gift’ to you. With a sigh, you retrieve the item from the drawer. It wasn’t him. But it would be enough.

———

It wasn’t enough! The remaining few days of the show caused your private nights with Eddie to grow shorter and shorter. The moments when you didn’t have to sneak around were spent being as far apart from one another as possible to deter any suspicions from his manager. Eddie had gotten extremely fatigue from the long days of rehearsal and having to perform on stage hours after. You worried that the boys would soon burn out.

When he’d snuck into your bedroom after the last night of Manta•esque, he’d all but crashed face first into your mattress. He only had enough energy for you both to the night for some writing ideas. He excitedly yet tiredly spoke of receiving praise letters from some of his favorite artists who’ve seen the event televised.

“It’s insane,” He yawns. “People actually like our music. They want to hear more from us. We’re already in talks of getting signed to an official label and having a new album.”

“That’s incredible!” You say, placing his head in your lap and playing in his hair.

“Right.” He yawns, once again.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Wanna stay here.” He grumbles against your thigh.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“So what? I miss you. And who knows if I’ll ever get this much time with you again?“

“Why do you mean?”

He’s quiet.

“Eds?” You called for his attention.

“I’ll be touring again,” He admits. “It’ll be around the time the exposé’s done.”

“Okay? We’ll still get to see each other.”

“No,” He sits up. “At least not for a while. My manager’s got us a tour around Asia then back to Europe for France. I’ll only be staying in Hawkins for about a week and a half then I’m back on the road again.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”

You stand to your feet, heading for the door when he grasps your wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to go somewhere to think.”

He caresses your face. “Y/n, I want to be with you.”

“We’ll hardly ever see each other.”

“Then, I won’t do the tour.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Or you can come with me! I don’t fucking know! I just don’t want this to end. I can’t go back to life without you.”

“Neither can I. I wouldn’t feel like myself without you.”

“So does this mean you’ll leave with me? We won’t have to hide our relationship.”

“I can’t just drop everything and travel the world with you, Eddie. I have my dreams, too. I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t say that.” He begs, narrowing the gap between your lips.

“I can’t…” You say, weaker this time, eyes fluttering closed as he closes the gap between your lips. He kisses away your tears.

You’re lost in his kiss, wrapping your arms around him when a throat clears forcing you both to jolt apart. There stood Mr. Neds with the extra key card you’d given Eddie.

You were so fucked.

————-

“I come to your bedroom and your missing. Window’s open. I knew you snuck out at that point. I’ve always had this gut feeling that there was something going on between you and this fully confirms it,” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you. “I warned you the first day that this would happen. I told you that this would be serious shit and yet, unsurprisingly, you sleep with him.”

“Back off. It’s not her fault.” Eddie defends.

“Both of you are to blame! All this time these unfortunate events that keep happening and it was all because you two are secretly dating. A poorly kept secret at that. You both are all over each other. I’ve been in denial but this proves my concerns.”

“Please don’t tell my boss. He’ll pull the article and this will all be over.”

“I won’t tell him anything. I want this exposé out as badly as you. People are loving it so far. But no more secrets. At least not between us. If this is what you both want, I won’t stop you. But it could only ever be in private. This stays here. No one else will know.” Mr. Neds states.

Only he couldn’t be more wrong. This secret will soon go beyond these walls because in about the next 2 days at approximately 12:30 pm on a Tuesday, the whole world will read about the scandalous romance between a rockstar and his journalist.

Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255

@haylaansmi @tlclick73 @chcolateeyelver

@apolixyan @micheledawn1975 @maystecc @gay-weirdo262772 @itswormtrain @httpmedxsa

@3m0xbunn1 @bebe0701

@lokiofasgard616 @joeyfilth @secretdryrose

@sammararaven @cherrytree69 @bimbobaggins69 @nicolaj1978 @idgafboutyou @eddiesgffff @briasnow-blog @sweetdreamer1010 @sleepyghostygirl @babeyglo @idkidknemore @e0509 @brittney69 @samunson83 @hellfire-puppet

@moonisu @mopeymopeymouse @lluviamg06

@shinydixon @cherrysoda444 @lovelyvivii @therese01 @keiracottreau @mirrorsstuff @eddiemunson95 @e-munson666

@munson-fixation @paradoxicalconundrum @lulukings92 @sherrylyn628 @szalipcombo @elamity @munsonswhore86 @kellsck @die-irre-blog @creoleguurl @edsforehead @munsonswhore86

[worldofheroes]

I’ve Missed You

tom cruise x wife!reader

summary: tom arrives home for a week break during his promo tour, and things get heated - in a good way.

warnings: 18+, language, protected sex, daddy kink

wc: 1.3k

a/n: y’all I’m so sorry… I’m trying to write for other people/characters but my only ideas right now involve tom. 😫 and apparently I have a daddy kink for/with him.

Your phone rings one evening, and when you go to pick it up, you see it’s Tom calling.

“Hey you,” you say with a smile.

“Hey sweetheart,” Tom says, a little sleepily.

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night?” you tease.

“No,” Tom chuckles. “The fans are so wonderful, though. Makes me excited for the movie.”

“That’s great, Tom. You’ve worked really hard on it, and everyone’s gonna love it.”

“I love you.”

You giggle. “I love you too. Now what’s up?”

“Well, I have a week off before I need to be in New York, so I thought I could stop by the condo and spend some time with you.”

“You act like I own this place,” you laugh.

“You mean to tell me you don’t?”

“When can I expect you?” you ask him, rolling your eyes at his comment.

“I’ll be getting in around 5pm on the fourth.”

“Mm, sounds good. And we can make up for not being together on your birthday,” you tease.

Tom stifles a groan. “Sweetheart, you can’t talk like that.”

“What? You’re telling me I can’t flirt and tease you?” you ask in a cocky tone.

“Stop,” Tom pleads in a hushed voice.

“Oh, are there people around? You don’t want to get a hard on with them around? You’re embarrassed that even just by talking to your wife you get turned on?”

“Y/n,” he says sternly.

You laugh. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. I’m sorry, I just haven’t had you in so long.”

“It’s been under a month.”

“Still too long.”

You hear some voices in the background.

“I have to go, sweetheart. I’ll text you when I’m on my way from the airport.”

“Okay, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The call ends. You go and take a shower, making sure you shave every inch of your body so Tom has a treat when he gets back.

The next evening, you get the long-awaited text.

Hey sweetheart. 25 minutes.

The 25 minutes seems to take about 30 years, but you eventually hear the door open.

“Hey,” you call out, walking to the door.

“Hey,” Tom says, meeting you in the living space with his bags.

You walk up to him and give him a hug, holding him tight.

“I’ve missed you,” you mumble into his chest.

“I’ve missed you too,” Tom says, kissing the top of your head.

“It’s good to have you back, I wish I could’ve joined you.”

“You’ll join me in New York, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I want you to.” Tom kisses you.

“Okay, I’ll go,” you smile.

“Good. We’ll get you a real nice dress that’ll look good pooled at your feet,” Tom kisses you again.

“Thomas,” you scold.

“Didn’t you say something about making up for the fact we weren’t together on my birthday?” He starts to pepper your face and neck with kisses.

“I think this is a new personal best for you, Cruise,” you say with a laugh.

“What do you mean?” he asks, starting to touch you too.

“I think we talked for a good 30 seconds before you turned horny.”

“Mm, I can’t help it, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin.

You giggle. “So are you going to take me to bed?”

“Say no more,” Tom growls, picking you up.

“Tom!” you yell as you’re practically thrown over his shoulder.

The next thing you know, you’re tossed onto the bed.

“Tom!” you yell again.

He crawls on top of you. “You started this.”

“I don’t think so, I just said we need to make up for being apart on your birthday.”

“Practically the same thing, don’t you think?”

“Actually, no,” you laugh.

“Mmhmm,” he hums, pulling his dark shirt off.

He then helps you get your shirt off, and he goes back to peppering your skin with kisses.

His right hand slides up your torso and lands on your breast. He starts to massage it.

“Oh,” you moan.

Tom presses his pelvis against yours. “You like that?” he whispers in your ear.

“Mm,” you nod, caressing the back of his neck.

“Good,” he growls, pressing harder against you and slowly grinding against you.

“Stop being a tease,” you complain, running your hands along his biceps.

Tom smiles at you and swiftly rids himself of his jeans, followed by helping you rid your shorts.

He continues to kiss you while he palms your clothed core.

You moan against his lips, and as you do, his tongue makes its way into your mouth.

Your grip his shoulders and force yourself harder against his palm.

Tom groans into your mouth. One of his fingers slips past your panties and starts petting your clit. You gasp at the sensation.

Your hands wander his body to find his cock, which is already hard as a rock. You make your way into his boxers. You wrap your fingers around his hardness and start to stroke it, causing Tom to falter.

“Sweetheart,” he moans.

“It’s only fair,” you whisper.

As Tom kisses you, he reaches to the nightstand to find a condom. You buck your hips against the hand that is still there.

“Wait a minute,” Tom mutters as he still struggles to find a condom.

“Dammit,” he says, breaking contact with you to move closer to the nightstand.

You giggle.

“No giggles from you,” he lightly scolds as he finally finds a condom. “Damn we’re low.”

“Oh, I didn’t know or I would’ve gotten more,” you say.

Tom moves back over you. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, giving you a kiss. “Now take those panties off,” he orders, taking his own boxers off.

You nod and pull them down. Tom pulls them the rest of the way off and tosses them over his shoulder.

You try to make contact with Tom as he rips the condom wrapper open.

“This is now my second time asking you to wait a damn minute,” he says with a small smile.

“I want you now, Daddy,” you moan, knowing that calling him “Daddy” is going to make him lose his mind.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom down his shaft.

“Daddy, please,” you beg.

He presses his tip against you. “What was that?”

“Please, Daddy. Please, fuck me senseless.”

Tom grins at you, then leans down and kisses you as he pushes his tip into you.

You gasp.

“That’s just the tip, sweetheart,” he mutters.

He continues to push into you, and you moan with pleasure.

Tom pushes all the way in and stops.

You open your eyes. “What?”

Tom smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say. “But I think we were in the middle of something.”

“Oh, you mean this?” Tom asks sarcastically, starting to thrust his hips.

“Oh!” you exclaim as his cock slams back into you.

He is going as deep as he can each time he enters you.

“Tom,” you breathe.

“What did you call me?”

“Daddy,” you correct yourself.

“That’s better,” he growls. His pace quickens.

“Oh, Daddy, I’m gonna come, oh shit,” you say.

“That was fast,” Tom teases.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Wait,” he growls. He goes even harder, which you didn’t even think was possible.

“Oh,” he moans, mouth agape and eyes closed. “Come for Daddy,” he says in a strained voice.

A few seconds later, you release, clenching down on Tom’s cock. Tom groans and comes in the condom.

“Fuck,” he says, slowly thrusting his hips.

You’re only able to get out a small whimper. He pulls out and discards the condom.

Tom then leans down and kisses you. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

You smile. “You’re very handsome.”

Tom lays down beside you and pulls you close. The skin on skin contact makes you melt in happiness.

“I’ve missed you in my arms,” Tom whispers against your hair.

“The promo tour is almost done,” you remind him.

“I know, and I can’t wait for it to be over so we can lay in bed all day.”

“Mm, that sounds nice.” You roll over to face him.

Tom kisses you gently. “Maybe we can have a little preview this week.”

You smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

[vaughnwrites]

Stressed Out

adaman x reader

(after a hell of a long hiatus, i am back from the dead! kinda. so, i'm not going to promise anything anymore as i apparently never know when inspiration is going to strike, and i never know where the hyperfixation will take me. i was trying to get this out for nine months now, but this was... not coming until tonight. sorry y'all for the wait, but here it is after all this time! also, this is my longest one to date. the others barely scratched 1000 words, some managing 1700, but this one... is a beast. it's near 3000 words. the inspiration to write struck me hard. hope you guys enjoy! )

reader is gender-neutral. they/them pronouns will be used if any pronouns at all.

finally, i bring to you this prompt

—

Everything was overwhelming.

The past few weeks, the stress had been mounting as you fought tooth and nail to be seen as an asset rather than a nuisance. You wore yourself down to the bone, putting your heart and soul trying to please everyone so the suspicion would die down only for it to mount more and more with people with each passing day. You had already been cast out once, and earned your way back into the Galaxy team. So why were people still suspicious? How much would you have to do to gain everyone’s trust? Why did you constantly have to fight for everyone’s approval?

Why did the other clan leaders believe in you more than your own clan did?

All you craved was somewhere to call home again. Somewhere you could rest your head at night and simply sleep, rather than spending all your time being anxious about one wrong perceived move and you’d be kicked out of the village again. The stress felt like it was piling up on your already tense shoulders, and you felt so overwhelmed. 

Everything was overwhelming.

Instead of slamming your fists into the first and cursing everyone to please, for the love of all that is holy, give me some credit — you got to work. Like always.

You’d overheard about a Zorua outbreak in the Alabaster Icelands, which was exactly what you needed. A young man in the village had asked to see the completed entry for Zorua, so this would be the perfect opportunity to finally cross this Pokemon off your to-do list. So, off you set toward the Pearl Clan settlement so you could check in in case something goes wrong. Even though you were far more trusting of Pokemon than others around you, you still didn’t underestimate the ones that were absolutely ready to kill you in a moment’s notice. Alpha Pokemon were far more angry than any other Pokemon you’d come across in your time.

Arriving in the Pearl settlement, the snow softly crunching under your boots, you hear not one, but two familiar voices to the side. Oh, Adaman is here as well. You vaguely remember them talking about a meeting about… something about traditions, or something? The details were fuzzy. You have been focusing far more on your own tasks and stresses than anything else.

Irida noticed your presence almost immediately and smiles, waving you over. Adaman joined along when he sees you as well.

“Well, our favourite Galaxy member is here! How are you?”

“I’m good, Irida, thank you.” You offer her a kind smile, keeping all your stresses tucked away neatly into a corner of your mind. Put them in a box, and file it away. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but one that’ll at least get you through this. “How are you guys doing?”

“We’re just discussing our cultures and possibly having a party to mingle the clans a little easier,” Adaman responded easily, throwing up his three fingers as a hello with his signature grin that never fails to make you smile in return.

“Sounds like fun.”

“It isn’t.”

“Hey!” Irida responded, stomping her foot down with her hands clenched at her sides. “I’m not the one being unreasonable!”

“Yeah yeah,” he waved her off, then turned his attention toward you. “What brings you here?”

“There’s a Zorua outbreak around the Bonechill Wastes area, and I wanted to complete my research on this guy while I still have the chance.” You neglected to tell them someone from Galaxy wanted the information as well.

Adaman raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you have someone to come along with you?”

You opened your mouth to say no before Irida cuts in. “You volunteering? Provided you don’t freeze to death first,” she teased as she jabs him in the ribs playfully, and grinned at his responding yelp and pout. “Jesting aside — you really should have someone to accompany you. An Alpha Glalie tends to roam that area, and no one has dared to come close to it. It seems really powerful. I wouldn’t be comfortable with you going alone.”

Adaman pursed his lips in thought. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I feel like I’ve gotten a glimpse of that Glalie before.” He turned to Irida. “You said no one has come close to it before to know its true strength?”

She shook her head. “We’ve all been too scared to try.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem for me,” you interjected, trying to quell their fears. “After everything I’ve faced, it feels like I should be dead at minimum four times over.”

The clan leaders share a glance to each other. It seems they’re talking through just their looks, but what they could possibly be communicating is lost on you. “Adaman, please go with them. I would go if I didn’t have a meeting later on that I cannot miss. But I know you’ll keep them safe.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“No,” both clan leaders respond at the same time.

You were split on this decision. Deep down, you did really like Adaman — and not just as a friend. Any time spent with him you keep near and dear to your heart. His smile that could light up a room and his long hair that you wanted to card your fingers through. But with the stress you’ve been under and how overwhelmed you’ve been, you’re unsure if you can handle a couple hours of him bitching about how cold it was. One too many comments and you weren’t sure if you could keep it all bottled anymore.

Yet, you also knew having someone with you would be more helpful than not. You didn’t know how strong the Zorua were going to be after all. If they ended up being feisty and ganged up on you, there’s no way you’d leave the battle unscathed. Add an Alpha Glalie to the mix and you’d be dead as dust in less than a heartbeat. You weighed your options (which, technically, they weren’t giving you any) and finally caved in. You weren’t gonna win this fight anyway. “Think you can talk about more than how cold it is?”

“I’m sure I can come up with something. But if it wasn’t so damn cold I wouldn’t complain about it all the time.”

“It’s not even that cold!” Irida scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t know how you don’t boil over in the Crimson Mirelands!”

“It’s barely warm enough there for me. It can get really cold by the water, y’know.”

“You’re both impossible,” you cut in to break off the sibling-esque fighting before it can truly start. “Now c’mon, I wanna get going before it gets dark outside.”

And off you and Adaman went, hands in your respective pockets.

You didn’t expect to fall in love with the Zorua like you did.

They were so cute with their flowy hair and expressive eyes. Most were on the attack if they saw you, but crouching down from a good distance away and just watching seemed to be okay. One had strayed away from the group toward you and Adaman, and you both held your breath so it wouldn’t notice you. It failed, as it did notice you, but it didn’t seem to be angry. It walked up to you slowly, and out of habit you gave it your hand to sniff so it wouldn’t see you as a threat.

It rubbed the side of its head against your hand, causing you to smile from ear to ear.

“You really do have a way with Pokemon, don’t you?” Adaman commented, watching everything with a small smile of his own. “They just trust you so implicitly. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Your cheeks went up in flames at the compliment, but the cold would cover it up as they were already pretty red. “I think they can just sense that I’m not here to harm them.” You started to pet the Zorua behind its ear, causing its eyes to close. “Sometimes I feel like they’re the only ones that can.”

“What do you mean?”

Oops. You hadn’t meant for this to be a therapy session. “I just… I don’t know. I guess it feels like humans always think they’re about to be betrayed, stabbed in the back. One wrong move and you’re crucified. But Pokemon… They don’t seem to be that way. Some Pokemon can sense a good person when they see one. That seems to be… a lot more rare in humans.”

“I know you’re a good person,” Adaman said softly, putting one hand on your arm.

Before you can even think about a response or the fact he’s showing a more sensitive side of himself to you, a noise catches the three of you off guard.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling your entire body freeze with fear. “The Alpha.”

You both bounce to your feet as the Alpha comes over the hill behind the Zorua and Adaman. You can see the Glalie is pissed off that people are invading its territory, and wants to get rid of the intruders. An ice beam begins to form, and before you can think, you jump in front of Adaman and the Zorua.

The blast hit you in full force.

Your fingers and feet go completely numb almost immediately, though it almost feels like you’re not even cold anymore. You almost feel warm, actually, and you know that’s an incredibly bad sign. The sky is a beautiful haze of orange and purple as the sun is setting behind the clouds, and for a moment you just take in the colours swirling in your vision. It feels like everything has a layer of clouds over it, and your mind feels stuffed full of cotton. Oh, this is probably a very bad sign.

You can hear a call of your name, as warbled and muffled as you heard it, but can’t really respond to it. Adaman lifted your torso and pressed your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you with his haori encasing you against him. The Zorua was curled in your lap, and you just felt… warm. You try to say thank you, but your lips feel tingly. Funny. You know you’re slurring even if you can’t hear much yourself. You try your hardest to communicate one word to Adaman.

“Camp.”

With that, though, you go unconscious.

—

You have no idea how much time has passed, but the next thing you know, you’re nice and warm in a tent. Blankets are stacked on top of you, and the fire in the furnace is crackling softly. You’re cozy and warm, but something feels… different. You sit up a bit, and promptly look down.

Oh. You’re definitely not wearing the clothes that you were wearing when you were out hunting for Zorua. You were wrapped up in a yukata that you didn’t recognise, but definitely knew the pearl clan symbol and colours. You wrapped it closer to yourself, then wrapped the blankets around you tightly for warmth. The clothes you had been wearing were hanging over a rack by the stove, seemingly drying off after the long day they’d been through.

You didn’t really know what to do. You’re not even sure what you managed to accomplish for research, or what you’re wearing, or what time it is, or really… anything. You don’t know anything that’s happened since you were out with Adaman. Now, it seems you’re alone in this little area. 

The tears fall before you even really mean them to.

When the first teardrop hit your hand, you realised what’s going on. The stress of everything was finally boiling over now that you feel comfortable and safe. You’re confused, but you’re comfortable and safe which is all you’ve wanted to feel for a while.

You allowed yourself to cry.

Trying not to be loud, you cry silently to yourself while wrapped up in blankets and the yukata, pulling the items tightly against you so you feel swaddled. You rock back and forth and let yourself have your small breakdown.

Until Adaman popped open the tent flaps to check on you, apparently.

Almost immediately your hands fly to your face to cover your tear-tracked cheeks and red eyes, burying your face into the softness of the blanket. You don’t say anything, and neither does he. But all it takes is him walking up and gently touching the top of your hair before you break completely.

The stress of everything came boiling over the edge, the fear of almost dying, the unknown of whether the research you obtained was enough to complete the entry on Zorua, whether you would have a home to go back to in Galaxy. Everything boiled up and you pressed the top of your head into Adaman’s stomach to cry.

He rubbed your back and shoulders gently as you sobbed, gently shushing you and reassuring you that you were safe, you were okay, everyone was okay. He was the much-needed rock in your mind to cling to so your head stayed above the water of emotions. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

Eventually your tears slowed and your breathing evened out, pulling away from Adaman to give him room and let him back up if he wanted. (You couldn’t help but notice he didn’t.) “I’m sorry. I didn’t… mean to break down.”

“You’ve been through a lot today, it’s understandable why you would.” Adaman sat down on the bed next to you and handed you a towel to wipe your face. “You’re in a spare tent right now, one they have set out for visitors or harmed individuals found in the wild. Do you remember what happened?”

You nodded, refusing to speak any words.

“You really scared me, y’know. When I saw that ice blast hit you, I… I saw you skid backward in the snow, and your lips were already blue. That was one of the scariest moments of my life, but I’m glad I went with you to keep you safe. Makes me want to go everywhere with you to always make sure you’re safe.”

An eyebrow raised as you look at him. “Wouldn’t that be a waste of your time?”

“Saving you wasn’t a waste of time. And I’d do it all over again, and again, just to keep you safe.”

You’re stunned speechless. You don’t know how to respond with words, so you do the next best appropriate thing — hug him. It starts as a side hug that quickly develops into a full hug, and by the way you’re both gripping each other… it seems neither one of you wants to let go.

“Adaman…” you whispered, holding him tightly. “Thank you. I couldn’t ask for a better —” you pause. You can’t say friend. He’s more than a friend at this point, in your heart, but that’s not something you can say. “— for a better person in my life. You’ve been so helpful to me, and I just… I’m so thankful for you.”

You can feel him smile against your shoulder, which makes you smile. “And I, you.”

He pulled back from the hug slowly, as if he was fighting himself. But he let go and instead stood up, grabbing the bowl he’d at some point set on the counter next to you. “I brought this in to try and wake you up to get something in your stomach, when… well, y’know.” Adaman rubbed the back of his neck. “You should get some warm food in your system though. It’ll help out.”

You grabbed the bowl of what appears to be some sort of soup, and you’re glad to have something else besides potato mochi to eat tonight. “Thank you.”

As you began to eat your soup, Adaman began to explain everything. “So that Zorua you saved came back with us. It’s sleeping with all your Pokeballs in Irida’s tent so she could keep an eye on them, and so they didn’t try to warm you too fast.” Ah, that explained the lack of Pokeballs with your clothes. “That Zorua seems pretty attached. I think you found yourself a new buddy.”

Both of you talk about the Zorua, about the research of all types of Pokemon and how it’s all going, talk about how cold it is and how much warmer the Crimson Mirelands is, how the clan meeting seems to be coming along well even through the bickering Irida and him do. Eventually, you finish your soup and set the bowl onto the chest next to you. Adaman clears his throat and begins to stand. 

“It’s about time for sleep, so I guess I’ll —”

“Please stay with me.”

Adaman’s eyebrows shot through the sky as he looked at you. “What?”

“Please, stay with me. I could use another person here so I’m not… I’m not alone.” You bowed your head. “And I don’t want you to go. But if you do, I understand.”

Hands rest on your shoulders and you looked up, meeting his eyes and matching his smile. “I would love nothing more than that. I don’t want to leave your side. Not now, not…” he stopped, but you finished it.

“Not ever?”

He smiled warmly, and it warms your soul. “Not ever.”

“Then stay with me. Tonight, at least. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“You got it.”

He slid under the blankets with you, and without a second thought, you curled up next to him for warmth. You were warm, but after how cold you were today… warm didn’t seem to be enough. Adaman’s arms wrapped around you protectively, and with your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat gently lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

[froggibus]

Never Be Alone - Leon S. Kennedy

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 900

Summary: after a particularly rough mission, you and Leon get your bearings in a hotel room waiting for extraction

CW: RE2! Leon (kind of), mentions of blood, mentions of violence, paranoia, hurt/comfort, cuddling, leon is a dork

i have some RE brain rot rn so this is what you guys get lol. working on some requests rn so those will probably be out. also!!! i am doing tryouts for an ow team this week on top of work so ill be a bit busier == slightly less content

————

Sitting under the boiling stream of water, it’s hard to believe that less than a day ago you were fighting for your life on a mission. The horrors of yesterday haven’t been forgotten, though. The stench of blood and rotting flesh will probably be burned into your mind forever. 

The only solace of the mission, the shining star amidst the sea of decay, was your partner: Leon Kennedy. Was he a bit dorky? Yes, but that same happy go lucky energy was what kept you going. 

Plus, he had saved your life more times than you could count. 

There’s a knock on the door. “Y/n, are you alive in there?” 

“S-sorry! Yeah! I’ll be out in a minute.”

You rush to rinse your hair and body, before turning off the shower and stepping onto the towel you folded into a makeshift bath mat. The hotel is surprisingly nice, with plush white towels that are soft on your aching body. 

You put on your underwear from yesterday, but leave your clothes on the floor. They’re covered in ashes and blood and gore, and you’ll have to wash them once Leon’s clothes are done. 

You roll them in a ball and toss them on the back counter before wrapping yourself in your towel. You walk out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam released behind you. 

“I got carried away, sorry,” you admit.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Leon’s laying on his back in one of the double beds, arms stretched above his head. “Just making sure you didn’t pass out and drown or something.”

“Do lots of people drown in showers?”

A smile ghosts across his lips, “you never know.”

Though faint, the smile warms you. After the horrors the two of you have seen, it’s good to know the same old Leon is still inside. 

You flop onto the bed face first, stretching your limbs out. You hear Leon scoff from the bed across from you. 

“What?”

“Nice outfit,” he snickers, cheeks tinged pink. 

“Hey—you’re the one that’s hogging the washer.”

“Speaking of that,” he lazily rolls out of bed, feet padding against the carpeted floor. 

You watch as he disappears into the bathroom and hear him dig around in the washer. You can’t help but wince at his shadow on the wall—too used to constantly being on guard. 

It’s been a while since you slept more than a few hours, but even in the comfy hotel beds, you doubt you’ll be able too. You’re haunted. 

Leon comes back into the room, wearing his pants and no shirt. “Here,” he tosses you a warm ball of fabric, “you can wear this for now. I put your clothes in so they’ll be done soon.”

You drop your towel to the floor, almost forgetting Leon is staring at you. You slip his shirt over your head and let it drape over your skin. 

He looks away before you can see the way he’s gaping at you. “Well, I’m gonna get some rest.”

You want to ask him to stay up with you, but you know that’ll be selfish. So, you simply nod and watch as he flicks off the lamp. Leon slips under the covers and rolls over, back to you. 

You try to close your eyes, but every click of the radiator or sound of a car peeling out of the parking lot forces them open again. Every shadow cast on the wall from the street lamps outside threatens to attack you. 

You toss and turn before giving up and sitting up perfectly rigid in the bed. The sound of rustling fabric fills your ears before the lamp is turned on again. 

“Y/n?” Leon squints at you in the light, “have you slept at all?”

“No,” you admit. 

He sighs. “Me either.”

“How come?”

“Just—stressed, I guess. I know we’re out but it feels like we’re still there, you know?”

You nod. You feel the exact same way, after all. Worried that at any moment you or Leon is going to be killed and you’re going to be all alone again. 

“I keep worrying we’re going to be attacked and—and I won’t be able to protect yo—us,” he sounds sad. 

“I just don’t want to be all alone again…”

He sits up, eyes looking into yours with a new intensity. “You won’t be, y/n. I promise.”

“Leon,” you say, “could you—would it be okay if you slept in my bed?”

He’s grateful for the dim lighting so that you can’t see the way his cheeks are burning. He shakes his head and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. You shift over, lifting the corner of the blanket to make room for him. 

It’s a small bed, not really meant for two grown adults, but tonight it will have to do. Leon slides under the comforters next to you, and rolls over to face you. 

His body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. You don’t even realize what you’re doing before you’re wrapping your arms around him and pushing your head into his chest. 

Leon is shocked at first, but he reciprocates your hug regardless. Strong arms wrapping around you, head on top of yours. 

The two of you managed to sleep peacefully, terrors of the night forgotten. 

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