#and like when they mention about her being woman in a men usual job

[sunshineandviolets]

i am actually really enjoying reading ship of dreams so far,

esp when reading with a sapphic!mc

[magics-neptunes-things]

The Dork And The Nerd

Hello there!

I didn't post anything with Leah since like for ever, so there it is!

Please enjoy :)

TW : None I think, or please let me know :)

Looking around the room, you readjust the camera one last time before starting your stream. It’s your job, even if some people are still saying that it isn’t a real job and stupid things like that.

You were winning your life easily with it, living your dream. You always loved playing video games, you started alone because it wasn’t what your little sisters were loving to do. When you discovered online games it was a life changing for you. You started streaming when you were 18 years old, which was seven years ago now. It was hard at first to be honest, being a woman in this man world.

But you find some friends in popular streamers who took you under their wings and help you to be where you are now.

You have several thousand people who follow you to each of your live, four night each week. You still have some shit to deal with, like harassers, but you took a manager who is the one reading your mail. He takes on him to choose your different partnership and sometimes answer to the people sending you strange things.

You are openly gay, but that doesn’t make stop some of men to send you disturbing pictures. Thanks god it’s your agent who see them, but you are aware of it. Just like your girlfriend, though.

You start your stream like usual, saying hello to your followers and talking a little bit about actuality or what you did today. You have a white kitten, who you called Purrito, who is almost as famous as you are. He keeps coming when you are playing, sometimes lying on your hand, or trying to catch the mouse of your computer. You already have a lot of bloopers because of him, but you can’t be mad with him.

Lately, your passion for video games seems to have catch the attention of your girlfriend. She always was looking at you when you are streaming, when she can. You usually do it during the evening so she’s back from training or games.

When Leah asked you to learn to her how to play video games, at first you thought she was messing with you. But she was really serious and ask you one more time. And who are you to refuse something to your girlfriend?

At first it was just to have fun, but you soon have an idea, and you used your best puppy eyes to get your girlfriend agreed with it. You wanted to make her play with you, but without her showing her face in your screen.

You never talked about Leah being your girlfriend, even if you are together for two years now. The public know that you are in a relationship, you sometimes mention your girlfriend live. They just don’t know who she is.

You met Leah at a ceremony and Katie who is a fan of your job took Leah when she went to met you. You were happy to met Katie, but you find yourself thunderstruck by Leah. You don’t remember if you were really coherent that night, but Leah followed you back almost immediately when you did it on Instagram.

You waited the next Arsenal games to sent her a message, congratulating her for her performance. You even take a picture of you in the stand with your father (who really was surprised when you ask him to go with you to a women football game). Leah answered you that next time you come you have to tell her, so she could give you a better seat.

You didn’t know if she was serious or not, but she then asked you the next game in London if you are coming and she find you a seat in the friends and family area. After the game she offers you to go for a drink. You then had other dates, and the rest is history.

You got together one month before she did her ACL and even if it was a hard time, you both get stronger. You let Lia Wälti take the lead in Leah’s recovery, but you were always around to help too. When Lia return to her home, you were the one staying with Leah at night. And you kept taking her in her rehab and cooking for her.

The day Leah started to run again, you were at the training to watch her. This is the day where she officially asked you to move in with her now that she could do things alone again. Unless cooking maybe, but that’s another question.

You accepted of course and the blonde happily transformed one of her guest room in your studio of stream.

It’s where you are now, Leah peacefully setting on your living room, ready to go live with you.

“Oh, it looks like our guest is here” you smile when you see that Leah is connected too. “Hi Baby!”

You only said to your viewers that it was your girlfriend, without saying anything else. You are aware that maybe someone will recognize Leah’s voice, but it would be fun anyway.

“Hi Love” she answers.

You make a reminder of the game you were going to play, for her first live Leah chose a car games, Trackmania. It wasn’t your favorite game, but you were so happy that she said yes to you that you would have accept a Tetris game.

“How are you?” you ask her, while making the game ready.

“I’m fine. Happy to play with you tonight.”

“I am happy too” you smile before looking at the camera. “Let’s have her a good evening guys so she will accept to do it more often yeah?”

You hear Leah chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. You already are seeing comments saying that you look whipped, what makes you roll your eyes. It seems to you that Leah’s voice is a little different from what it is in reality, but maybe your mind is playing trick.

You play several runs with Leah, before switching to another game after talking with your chat who recommend to you to make Leah try an adventure RPG. When you look at the clock again, it’s past midnight.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize that it was already so late” you exclaimed yourself. “We are going to stop here guys, I’m sorry. Maybe next time we will try Minecraft or something else, I’ll let you know. I hope you had as fun as I had Babe.”

“It was really fun. Thank you for inviting me.”

You can hear Leah smile and you can’t wait to go to the living room for a cuddle and kiss session. When you played together until know, you were able to show each other or tease the other with kisses.

“You will be invited for more times” you smirk.

Leah left and you take the time to thanks your viewers a little more longer before logging off. You stretch, finishing your bottle of water before going to find Leah. You run on the stairs and Leah already knew you were coming before you jump on the couch next to her.

She laughs when you attack her with kisses all over her face, finishing on her lips.

“Did you really have fun?” you ask, looking at her with attention.

She nods, playing with your hair. She’s smiling and every time you look at her, you wonder how in the world you get so lucky. She’s perfect.

“I did” she smiles at you. “I’m not saying that I want to do that all the night every night, but it was great.”

“Mh I maybe have another idea for us to have fun all night” you smirk.

The tone of your voice is very obvious and if Leah had one doubt, she just has to look the way you are looking at her. Your fingers run on her tight and you kiss her one more time, before sucking slightly at her neck.

Leah gulp and just hums, tilting her head on the side for you to have a better access. You know what you are doing, after more than two years, you know Leah’s body and reactions like the back of your hand.

“Let’s go to bed” Leah decides several seconds after, taking your hand before dragging you in your bedroom on the first floor.

********

“It was a great session.”

You smile at Leah who came to your studio after you played together again. You were still sitting when she entered the room, and she passed her hand around your shoulder from behind to kiss your cheek.

“It was” you smile before turning your chair to face Leah.

She sits on your lap, and you pass your arms around her. It wasn’t the second time that you are playing together while you are streaming, today you chose Fifa and it was very fun. You made the pact not to play with Arsenal or England, but it was still very funny. Leah is a very bad looser, so you play several games in the same team too.

“People are starting to have some suspicion though” Leah says.

She was right, you saw on social media some things about your girlfriend being Leah. But it wasn’t the only name coming.

“Yeah, they said I will make a great couple with some of your teammates too” you shrug, before counting on your fingers “They are talking about Sabrina, Alessia, Kyra and Lia.”

Leah frown, not really liking the picture who comes in her mind.

“Nah. You’re mine.” she answers possessively.

“Do you want to tell people?”

Leah looks at you, thinking for several seconds before answering. This is lasting for some weeks now and you know that you can’t stay hidden forever. You attract the attention of the world by playing together.

“Not now. It’s fun like this, don’t you think?”

“It is” you confirm with a smile.

Leah has the habit to be coupled with every teammate and you are sometimes shipped with other streamers. You like to stream with other of them, certain being your friends too. There is nothing much, but that doesn’t stop people to imagine that you are dating one of them.

But you have to admit too that your stream with Leah attracts more people than usual, and you are a little scared that people will assume that you’re using your girlfriend for the views.

Your face being very close to Leah, she seems to realize very quickly that something is on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” she asks.

“Nothing” you say at first, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I already have some viewers saying that I’m using my girlfriend to gain more viewers, so I was wondering how they would react when they realize it’s you.”

You shrug to show her that it’s not really important, you don’t want to think you are worried about something so little.

“If someone say that you know what my answer will be?” Leah asks with a serious face.

“No” you mumble.

“I will tell them that we are together for two years, that you have been the best girlfriend in the world since. I will tell them how affectionate, caring, sweet, funny, clever and passionate you are.”

You can’t help but smile and feel your cheek being a little red at that statement. Leah smirks and kisses your cheek.

“And I’ll add that if you use me, it’s only in the bedroom and the way you do is actually very talented and also very private.”

You laugh this time, hitting her on the arm. Leah seems very happy about her joke, her eyes shinning with malice. She’s so beautiful. You bite her jaw before whispering.

“You’re such a dork.”

“The Nerd and the Dork, it would be a great book title” she smirks.

“You’re not totally wrong.”

********

“You’re cheating!”

You can’t help but laugh at Leah. You are playing once again against your girlfriend, during a live. You are playing at Mario Kart and you just won the race for the third time in a row. She’s fuming and even if you can’t see her, the noise coming from downstairs are letting you know that she’s actually kicking the ground right now.

“I’m not, Baby I swear. You can’t cheat in this game.”

“Yes, you are!”

You roll your eyes, not answering anything. You are of course very aware about of much your girlfriend hates to lose. You are at the first place while Leah is third, which is really good for someone who isn’t playing video games daily like you. But not for the great Leah Williamson.

“Someone in the comment is saying that I will sleep on the couch. I won’t Babe, right?”

“I’m not sure about it for now” Leah grumbles. “Or maybe I’ll go sleep to the trai…”

You cough suddenly and Leah stops talking, realizing what she was just about to say. You really hope that no one would understand what she was going to say. Or at least another end of sentence, not “training ground”.

“Alright, next game” you say right after.

“I’m gonna crush you.”

She doesn’t and when you join her in the kitchen after, she seems really embarrassed. You ignore the different messages asking what Leah wanted to say and the answer some of them gave. You saw that some people where right and you know that the research will start again.

“I’m so sorry” she says, coming for you while you’re entering the room. “I was fuming because I was losing, and I forgot for some seconds that it wasn’t only you and me.”

You smile, easily passing your arms around her to give her a hug. She cuddles against you when you kiss her temple.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. Plus, you are the most famous between the both of us, you will be the most annoyed by all that.”

“Why would I be annoyed?”

Leah back up her head a little bit, just to be able to have a better look at your face. You arch an eyebrow before answering.

“Because you always told me you want privacy.”

It was in the early hours of your relationship, and you never said anything against it. You understood Leah’s needs, at this time you weren’t as famous as you are right now. She wanted to be known for her skills, her job in football or her implications in different charities. And the point was very easy for you to be understood. Your friends are families know obviously about you two, it would be strange and difficult to hide a relationship when you live together. Plus because of her answer last time you talked about it, you were really sure that it was what she want.

“I told you that at first, but now I wouldn’t mind if people start to know about us.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, but your mind just blown. You were used to the idea of people stay in the ignorance about your relationship and the love you have for this woman. As long as you have her, why would you complain?

“Do you… Really?” you frown.

“Yeah, I mean if you don’t want to be out…”

“No, I do. I just thought that you would like to stay private for like forever?”

“I love you. I want the world to know how happy you make me. But in several weeks. I want to play with your fans a little more.”

“Sounds good to me” you smirk. “And I love you too.”

********

For the next weeks, you chose one day of the week to play and stream with Leah. Between those days, you were careful to post some things on social media, giving little clues to your followers about the identity of your girlfriend. You never posted something with Leah or even with a part of her hand or hair. It was more subtle than that.

Until one day, where you were peacefully streaming while Leah went out with her friends. You usually go with her, but today it was more an unexpected drink, so you already have something planned on your channel. You have an entire trust in Leah, and you know that nothing would ever happen with anyone. If you go with her almost every time, it’s only to have a great time with her.

Plus, tonight she’s out with Katie, Caitlin, Steph, her boyfriend, and Kyra, so there are really no risks.

You usually wait for Leah to text you that she was coming home to cut your stream, so you have the time to finish what you are doing and say goodbye to your viewers. Tonight though, either you didn’t see her message, or she forgot to send it to you.

Still, there is suddenly a stunning blonde who enters your studio, showing herself in the camera at the same time. You are so surprised that you only can look at her on the screen of your camera.

“Hello Hot stuff! You won’t believe what I just learned about Kyra! Did you k- … Oh shit.”

That’s the moment she realizes. It was almost comical to be honest, the enthusiastic tone with which she began her sentence, the moment of silence and the last words spoken in a low voice.

You only have like two seconds to decide if you want to cut the stream and never talk about it again, or if it’s time to be honest with everyone. You chose a third way and turn to the camera.

“Well it’s time for me to say goodbye. See you tomorrow at eight. Thanks for being here!”

You wave and cut the stream and the camera before turning in Leah’s direction. She seems amused but she has at the same time the same look on the face of a teenager caught doing something wrong.

“Funny way to outing things, this clip will be viral” you comment with a small smile.

“I’m sorry?”

Leah can’t hide her smile and you can’t either. You can be mad at her for something like that. You let Leah comes to sit on your lap, kissing her softly when she’s settled. She taste like tequila.

“How was your night?”

“Great. But I missed you.”

She hides her face in your neck, and you feel the goosebumps forming when her breath stroke your skin.

“Did you have fun?”

She hums, start to kiss your neck and you know that the discussion you were supposed to have right now is delayed for now. You will have a lot of time to talk about it later. Your phones are way too busy receiving tons notifications to be able to do anything with it right now anyway.

********

YourInstagram and LeahWilliamson

liked by liawalti, leahwilliamson, alessia, bethmead and 199,937 others

YourInstagram Two years and a half with this dork. I love you ❤️🤍

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leahwilliamson I love you more my Nerd ❤️🤍  

[just-jordie-things]

video games - takuma ino

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 11.6k warnings: mentions of blood, drinking summary: ino has been infatuated with his non-sorcerer roommate since day one. but he's convinced she couldn't feel the same way. more info: roommate!au, friends to lovers, gojo hits on you but it's for the greater good ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you // everything i do // i tell you all the time, heaven is a place on earth with you // tell me all the things you wanna do ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

How Takuma Ino ended up with a non-sorcerer roommate wasn’t as interesting of a story as his colleagues always thought it would be when they’d first find out.  They were always so eager for the details- was she his girlfriend? Did she know about his career and lifestyle? Was she cute? How did they meet?- and even though Ino would often laugh sheepishly and duck his head to hide his smile, the truth just wasn’t that exciting.

The truth was that as fun as being a jujutsu sorcerer was, it didn’t pay well.  So he needed a roommate in order to better afford rent.  One ad led to another, and soon (y/l/n) (y/n) was showing up asking for a tour.  It only took one visit for her to decide to move in, and they’ve been roommates for the better part of a year now.

Ino always leaves out the part where he didn’t believe she’d actually agree to join the lease with him- when she’d shown up at his door he figured she’d only asked for a tour to be polite.  In his mind there was just no way that a young woman as beautiful and hard working in her field needed a roommate- much less some random dude like him.  She’d been so friendly and easy going upon their first meeting and they seemed to click just right, so she’d shook his hand and set a move-in date that very day.  When she’d left, Ino had collapsed on his sofa with a beer and a bewildered laugh to himself.  Even now, he’s not sure how he managed to make it happen.

“You wanna order chinese? I don’t feel like cooking” 

(y/n’s) call from the other side of the room drew him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over the back of the couch to see her rummaging through the pantry.  Logic reared it’s head, reminding him that they’d just bought groceries so they should probably save the money and eat at home tonight.

But then she gave him that hopeful little smile that he couldn’t help but return before nodding his head.  Logic never won in a battle against something (y/n) wanted.

“Sure” He agrees through his smile.

By the time she’s dressed in her comfy lounging clothes, he’s already called their usual place and made an order.  He’d long since memorized her go-to order and was usually the one put in charge of calling.  He never minded.  How could he complain when everything about their situation was just so perfect? 

The roommate of his dreams, she was.  Tidy, quiet, a great cook, and one of the most pleasant people he’s ever gotten to know, Ino truly believed he struck gold when (y/n) answered his ad.  So even when his colleagues teased him for his living situation, he could hardly care.

And tease him they did.  Gojo was the main assailant.  Often joking about how strong Ino must feel all the time, being in the presence of a weak non-sorcerer human.  How she must think he was some superhero compared to all the lame human men she’d meet at her job or through her friends.  How Ino must be so lucky to have a young lady as his roommate.   Still, no matter how much he messed around, Ino knew that there was no harm in Gojo’s words.  And he also knew that if he’d actually met (y/n), he’d shut his ignorant mouth.

Nanami didn’t invest himself too much in Ino’s private life, he was simply respectful and reserved like that, but on occasion he’d been known to ask about his roommate.  Mostly situational to their occupation- such as what she thought of the nasty cuts and bruises he’d come home with- but once in a blue moon he’d make a comment suggesting it was only a matter of time before one of them developed feelings.  Ino always flustered under the light of those questions and found a way to avoid them.

In the few times throughout his week that he’d cross paths with Shoko, she always made a point to ask about his roommate.  Which was sort of odd, seeing as her work in the infirmary didn’t make them the closest of colleagues, but at first the casual conversation was welcomed.  But it was only a matter of time before she, too, would begin pestering him about making a move on her.

They all seemed to have the same underlying message.  How could you share a living space with someone and not catch feelings for them? And Ino spent a lot of his time and energy trying to convince them that it simply wasn’t like that.  Just because they both happened to be single, and close friends, and sharing a small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean that romantic feelings were bound to happen.  They were both adults, they could live in such a situation and keep their hands and hearts to themselves.

He was a liar, though.

Takuma Ino had fallen completely, head over heels in love with his roommate, and there was no chance of him ever getting over that feeling.

It had taken relatively no time for the feelings to develop.  Shortly after her moving in, she’d made an effort to be close to him.  There wasn’t a moment where he felt like she wanted space or privacy away from him.  She often offered to help him cook, or invited him grocery shopping with her, or out to a movie she wanted to see, and a fast friendship blossomed.  The way she always reached out to include him had him swooning in no time.

Coffee runs, movie nights, and frequent texting throughout their days before they both came home all snowballed into one undeniable truth.  He was falling in love with her.

When Ino had first realized that’s what was happening when his heart would leap out of his chest when she’d scoot close to him on the couch so they could share a blanket while they watched a movie or played a game together, he’d tried to bury it.  Because surely his mind was just playing tricks on him.  Surely he was just excited that a pretty and kind girl like her wanted to be so close to him, and his feelings were strictly platonic.

But then he found himself relaxing just from the smell of her shampoo wafting close to him.  He realized that when he would come home from a late assignment and she’d be waiting for him that his heart was skipping a beat because it was just so perfectly domestic.  He couldn’t deny it for too long at all, not when she so sweetly saved him the leftovers from her dinner and would heat it up for him while he showered and de-stressed from the particularly rough assignment.

The only problem was that he knew she didn’t feel the same way, and he’d been struggling to keep his true feelings hidden.  From her, and from his pesky fellow sorcerers.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) hated when Ino came home late from his assignments.

Not because the squeak door woke her up, or because it meant she was alone taking care of the evening chores.  It was simply because she’d stay up every time, too consumed with anxiety to go to sleep without knowing he’d returned safe and sound.

Which, in all fairness, he always did.  He always came home, and most of the time he’d shoot her a message saying he’d wrapped up with work and was on his way- even when it was one in the morning- like tonight.

She waited up on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket with the title screen of a movie she’d watched hours ago playing it’s intro for the thousandth time.  In all fairness she knew he could handle himself, and he’d never not come home, or come back with life threatening injuries.

That didn’t mean he didn’t come back hurt, and that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fuss over him, every single time.

And tonight when he finally stumbles into the apartment, just as the clock ticks past two, she’s practically gnawing at her nails as she rushes towards him.

Despite the way he limps, and there’s blood trickling out of his nose, he gives her a smile, and he’s the first to worry.

“It’s late, you should be in bed” He scolds without any real threat to his words.  This routine had established itself months ago, and he knew damn well that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until she knew he was safely returned home.

Still, he worried about something as silly as her sleep schedule every time.

“Shut up” Is all (y/n) mumbles, beckoning him further into their apartment, until he’s following her to the bathroom.  

She’s faster than him, pulling out the well loved first aid kit and getting everything prepped and ready on the counter while he slowly staggers in behind her.  It was practically the same scene every time he came home like this.  No matter how beat up he was- with a mere scratch or bloodied to a pulp- she was forcing him to sit down on the lid of the toilet seat so she could tend to his injuries herself.

Ino wasn’t sure if it was for her own well being and comfort, knowing that she’d taken care of him and none of his injuries would get infected.  Or if maybe she just didn’t trust him to take care of them himself, maybe she knew that his idea of first aid was slapping a hello kitty band aid on it and calling it a night.

(There was one instance a few months ago where he’d left a hello kitty band aid on the back of his hand that she’d so lovingly placed there, and Gojo didn’t let him hear the end of it for the entire day.  Not that Ino minded.  Every time he caught a glimpse of the pink band aid it brought a smile to his face remembering how gentle she’d been covering the cut underneath, how her thumb had stroked over the sticker so lightly to ensure it was well placed and would do the trick.  He left that band aid on his hand for as long as he could before eventually it lost his adhesive and in turn he lost it)

Either way, he never tried to talk her out of tending to him.  Even when he knew it was too late for her to be staying up just to clean up some silly injuries that were nothing compared to the things that Shoko healed with her Reverse Cursed Technique- but he’d never tell (y/n) about the broken bones or brushes with death.  He’d just keep his mouth shut and sit on that toilet seat while she soaked a cotton pad in antiseptic and gently dabbed at the cuts on his arm.

“Sorry” 

She’d mumble the apology every time she’d make first contact with the injury, knowing how the alcohol tended to sting.  And every time, Ino would give her a small smile and tell her it was alright.

“How was your day?” He hummed as she continued to clean up the few cuts on his arms.  She had his sleeve rolled all the way up and tucked carefully at his shoulder so it wouldn’t be a hindrance.  She hummed thoughtfully before shrugging a shoulder.

“Pretty boring, nothing of note,” She murmured back truthfully.  “Until now” She adds, her eyes meeting his just so he’d catch the hint of reprimand in her tone.

Ino can’t help but chuckle to himself, he’d forever be amused by the way she worries over him.  She may have been new to the world of jujutsu sorcery, but it never failed to humor him how she’d fuss and worry over such minor injuries.  Injuries that Shoko wouldn’t treat even if Ino walked into the infirmary and begged for it.  Surely he’d be laughed at.

“So you’re saying I’m the highlight?” He teases quietly, and (y/n) rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny it.  She chooses the safe route and keeps her focus on her handiwork.  He still laughs at her obvious non-answer.  “Work was alright, though?” 

“I suppose,” She answers.  “Got home early because some people in my department were going out and convinced my boss to join, so they let us all leave early.  That was nice” 

Ino gave her a small frown, but it went unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t go?” 

Her eyes briefly flicker up to his, and she purses her lips before shrugging her shoulders in a small movement.

“Wasn’t really in the mood,” She says, and it’s not a total lie, but she averts her eyes shortly after, reaching out to the first aid kit on the counter again.  She fishes around a bit before finding the package of square shaped band aids.  “Besides, I didn’t know when you’d be back” She added.

It deepens his frown, but she’s completely avoiding his gaze now.  He expects as much, seeing as he’s had this conversation with her before.  He encourages her to go out with her friends more, or make new friends at work to hang out with, and she always has an excuse at the ready.  Sometimes her reasoning was decent, but most of the time it was obvious she came up with them on the spot, and it made his heart sink.

Of course he wanted her around all the time, pushing her away was absolutely a struggle for him, but Ino knew that if they continued only spending time with one another, then his feelings would never go away.  It would be hard, but tremendous help if she made a new best friend, or better yet a boyfriend, and then he’d have to get over her, he was sure.

“You shouldn’t avoid your friends cause of me,” He tells her quietly.  “It’s late, you could’ve gone out… if you wanted to” 

After placing a band aid on his skin and smoothing down the corners so it stayed intact, she glanced up at him.  A small knot formed between her brows before she cracked a goofy smile.

“They’re not my friends, Ino,” She chuckles at him.  “They’re coworkers.  I see them plenty enough, I don’t need to hang out with them outside of work- where we would probably still only talk about work” 

As far as excuses went, it was a pretty damn good one.  So this time he gave in, smiling and nodding back at her in understanding.

“Guess that’s fair,” He mumbles, and she laughs quietly again as she opens up another band aid.  “I just… I dunno, I don’t want you missing out of stuff, that’s all” 

“I think I’m old enough to decide what I want to do with my time,” She teases, her cheeks warming at the insinuation in her admission.  “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be” 

His heart skips a beat, and as lovely as the feeling is when his stomach flips, Ino wishes she wouldn’t say stuff like that.  It gave his heart the wrong idea, and it was hard to fight with his heart.  He was convinced his brain just wasn’t strong enough to fight the delusion.

“So your ideal night is patching up this idiot, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her in that way that always makes her laugh, and she does, bubbly and sweet, and again his stomach does a flip.  Making her laugh always brightened him up completely.  Like a video game character maxing out his health bar.

“I think I would’ve made a great doctor” She teases back, shaking the box of band aids at him before carefully tucking them back in their spot in the first aid kit.

“You don’t even give me lollipops, how could you say that?” Ino retorts in mock offense- although it would make these little patch up sessions even better if he was rewarded with her close proximity and candy, but he’d accept one sweet thing at a time.

“Shut up,” She says through her giggles, finally closing up the whole kit.  “You’re lucky I don’t do any of the scary stuff.  I’ll leave that for your sorcerer friends” 

“Eh, it might come to that,” Ino shrugs.  He stays seated as she puts the small case back into it’s spot in the cabinet, lingering in her space for however long she’ll let him.  “Shoko will probably get tired of me eventually, you know.  How comfortable are you with stitches?” 

The grin on his face is nothing short of teasing- and he knows he should stop.  He knows that eventually the lines get blurry and he’s not sure how much his teasing is starting to blend into flirting, and with how playful her nature is she’s never afraid to dish it back.  Not once had she reacted in an uncomfortable manner to something he’s said, but that only makes it harder for him to draw that line in the sand.

(y/n) shuts the cabinet and turns to him with her hands on her hips.  A serious look flashes across her expression that he can’t tell if it’s meant to be in humor or if she’s actually about to drop the playful atmosphere.  With a step towards him, she leans over so her height matches his, and they’re face to face.

“Takuma Ino,” She declares, eyes boring into his with an intensity that makes him gulp down on air.  “Unless you want some really funky looking scars, don’t go asking me to stitch you up.  Leave it to your magic friends” 

His anxious expression drops as he breaks into a smile, amused by her choice of words, and her own face softens as she smiles back at him.  It was infectious, the way he smiled.  It could get her to crack even when she was really trying to be stubborn.  A secret weapon of his that (y/n) was pretty sure he used on purpose, but there were some instances she could be convinced that he had no clue of this power.

“My magic friends, huh?” He repeats with a smirk.  

He’d definitely have to tell Gojo about that one when he saw him next.  Surely it would feed into his ego, if not make him cackle.

(y/n) stands up again, her cheeks suddenly feeling a little too warm, before she spins around and heads out of the bathroom.  Finally, Ino stands, stretching his sore limbs and checking over the array of bandages on his arm before following after her.

“Or better yet, just don’t get yourself hurt anymore” (y/n) adds, her back turned to him as she makes her way towards her room.

“Oh wow, I hadn’t thought of that” He shot back in a mocking voice.  He knows she rolls her eyes, even if he can’t see.

“Just sayin’, why don’t you work on that technique where stuff doesn’t touch you? Like that one guy?” 

He has to bite his cheek to keep himself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.  She was trying her best to understand how jujutsu worked, even if she was a little off the mark.  There was also something so rewardingly funny about someone not remembering who Gojo Satoru was- even if she’d never met the guy.

“Not exactly how it works,” He replies.  (y/n) turns to him as she stands in the middle of her doorway.  Her tiredness is more evident now in the way she leans against it and blinks slowly back at him.  “Pretty sure I gotta stick with the one I was born with”  

She hums, pursing her lips as she tries to recall all of his explanations for the finicky sorcerer world.  But her mind is foggy with exhaustion and she’s getting a little too swept up in how softly his brown eyes gaze at her, so she shakes her head and finally turns towards her room.

“Noted,” She tells him, knocking twice on her frame before grabbing the handle of her door and pulling it behind her.  “G’night Ino” 

His heart warms as he bids her goodnight, and he lingers in the empty apartment for a few more seconds before making his way into his own bedroom.  

Every minute spent with her felt special and worth basking in, even when nothing significant happened, even when it was a completely normal night.  Just being around her was enough for his insides to melt into a buttery mess.

When he goes to sleep, he hopes to see her in his dreams, where he doesn’t have to feel anxious or guilty about his feelings, and he can be with her freely, without a care in the world.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“There’s gonna be this… work thing… next weekend,” 

He brings it up out of nowhere, although he’s spent a while trying to find a way to say it, he actually blurts it out in the middle of the two of them watching a movie.  So it’s not actually surprising when (y/n) turns towards him with a puzzled look on her face, already reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

Tonight she sits close enough that with his arm strewn across the back of the couch, it could almost feel like they were cuddled up together.  Even though they’re not touching- unless you counted the stray hairs that fell from her claw clip and brushed his arm behind her head.

“If you wanted to come, anyways,” Ino clears his throat uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a little more on the spot with the movie stopped and her full attention on him.  “Gojo’s hosting, said anyone can come, I- I don’t have that many details yet, but, um, I’ll probably go, since Nanami said he was-” 

“And I’m allowed to go?” She ends his suffering with her question, her brows raising in shock.

“Allowed?” Ino repeats the choice of word, followed by a short chuckle.  “Of course you are, why do you say it like that?” 

“I dunno,” Her shoulders shrug limply, although she knows exactly why she asks.  “Cause… I’m not like you, I guess” 

Ino’s never given too much thought to their differences.  Besides when he’d realized he’d have to tell her the truth about his career, and they had spent hours on this very sofa while he explained the complicated history of jujutsu, and the ins and outs of curses and cursed techniques.  She’d had her uncertainties, and endless questions, but after that talk, the stark differences in the lives they led outside of this apartment rarely came up.  He could almost say it didn’t matter, but he didn’t want to diminish either of their careers.

Now, as he watches her begin to curl up like she was trying to shrink into herself, his heart falls a little bit.  Did she really feel like she didn’t deserve an invite? Just because she was a non-sorcerer? In his eyes, it certainly didn’t make her any less of a person.  He could almost laugh.  How could a person like her feel that way? Someone so good hearted, hard working, brilliant, gorgeous- 

“Ino?” She presses forward, drawing him out of his derailed train of thoughts.  He blinks a few times as he comes back to the present moment.

“I want you to come” He says, feeling much bolder than he had when he first brought the subject up.

Now she’s blinking back at him wordlessly, eyes going round and a smile tugging at her lips.

“You do?” She asks, just to be sure, even though there’s not a doubt in her mind that he means it, with how genuine and hopeful his expression is.  Warmth blooms in her face, and she hopes that her blush isn’t too embarrassing.

It’s not.  Ino finds it utterly adorable, and quite endearing.

“Yeah,” He affirms with a nod of his head, before pushing a hand through his hair to pull it away from his face.  “I want you to meet everyone.  And I want them to finally meet you, too.  If you want to, that is” 

Her smile widens a little further as she nods back at him, the movement jittery and short, displaying her eagerness in it’s fullest.

“Sounds fun.  I’d love to,” She says softly.  Ino lights up with excitement, sitting up a little straighter as he beams at her.

However, before he can reach for the remote and start their movie up again, she snatches it away, a curious expression crossing her features as she studies him.

“But what do you mean finally, hm?” She muses, the question only half-playful.  Curiosity did get the best of her after all.  “Have they been dying to meet me or something?” 

He makes a face at her that makes her laugh, her eyes lighting up as his expression alone confirms what she’d been thinking.

“Have you been talking about me to your coworkers, Ino?” She teases, her grin practically splitting her face.

“Don’t be an idiot, of course I do,” He tries to play it off, reaching out for the remote again, but she pulls her hand away just before he can take it, subsequently having him lean almost fully across her, his arm outstretched towards the object that could free him of this torture.  “(y/n)” He huffs in annoyance, frowning at her when she still doesn’t play the movie.

“Nuh uh,” She says childishly while shaking her head.  “What do you tell them about me?” She presses further.

He wants to roll his eyes, and huff and groan until she’s annoyed into going back to their movie- which had just been starting to get good before he started this whole thing- but he can’t.  He just can’t bring himself to do it.  Not when she’s grinning up at him and he swears he sees an actual sparkle in her eyes.

“C’mon dummy, they know all about you” Again, Ino tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal.  

(As if he hadn’t gone on a long winded story to Nanami just the other day about how he was going to surprise her with a fruit bouquet of mangos on her nearing birthday, because she’d recently become obsessed with the tangy fruit and demanded they picked up the most overpriced ones every time they went to the grocery store.  Nanami had little to know interest in hearing about all the places Ino had researched who make fruit arrangements and how he hadn’t deemed any of them good enough yet) 

“All about me, huh?” She repeats curiously, before humming, content with the response.  

Then she finally pushes play on the remote before dropping it onto the cushion beside her.  Ino sends a silent thank you prayer to whatever greater force was looking out for his dignity, and settles back into his seat.

He swears when (y/n) gets settled, she’s sat just a little bit closer to him.  He’s pretty sure her shoulder wasn’t grazing against his earlier.

They’re a few minutes in before she speaks up again, her voice merely a soft whisper beside him.

“You didn’t have to be all shy about it.  I talk about you at work all the time” 

Ino can barely keep his focus on the whole rest of the movie.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The work event isn’t necessarily a fancy one.  There’s not a dress code, and despite Ino’s worries with Gojo organizing it, it’s not at some five star establishment he couldn’t even afford to look at.  It’s held at a small local restaurant and bar.  

Gojo does, however, rent out the place for the evening, so the only patrons tonight would be those from Jujutsu Tech, and whoever they decide to bring.

Despite it being business casual at most, it still feels like it’s the most dressed up he’s ever gotten for going somewhere with (y/n).  Maybe it’s just his heart working on overdrive after seeing the simple but sleek black dress she’d chosen to wear for the night, paired with a little mesh wrap that was tied in a little bow at her chest and flared at the sleeves for some personality- but as soon as the evening began, Ino was starting to overthink.

“I’ve never been here before,” (y/n) hums as they approach the venue.  “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this” 

She peeks a glance over at Ino as he’s also admiring the building.  It’s a rather small restaurant, but the architecture has enough character that it’s worth getting a good look at before going inside.  Or maybe he was just stalling where he could.

He looks really nice tonight, she thinks, and the thought instantly makes her heart skip a beat as she takes a few more seconds to look at him.  He’s in dark slacks and a cotton black sweater that looks so soft she’s suddenly dying to pinch the fabric between her fingers to see for herself.  It’s paired with a white collared undershirt for a little extra flair- something she knows she once told him she liked seeing on a man- and without his mask piled up on top of his head his long hair wisps in slight curls around his ears, just barely touching his shoulders.

She knows she’s been staring for too long, but it takes a few tries before she actually pulls her gaze away from him.

“I wasn’t either,” Ino says, and it takes her a minute to remember what she’d even said.  “Knowing Gojo, I was expecting something… worse” 

(y/n) chuckles to herself, before nodding to the door.

“Time to enjoy not worse?” She prompts, and he grins before gesturing for her to follow him inside.

Ino reaches over her shoulder to push the door open, only to follow behind her with a gentle hand on her back guiding her in.  The silk of her dress is so smooth and thin against the light graze of his hand that he can feel the heat of her skin through it, and it takes a mental talk with himself in order to keep him from pressing his hand fully against her back.

She gives him a sweet smile in gratitude, before both of their attention is pulled away by the shrill of cheering amongst the chatter of people in the restaurant.

There weren’t a lot of people- there weren’t many jujutsu sorcerers to begin with- but there were enough to fill the room with a certain level of white noise with background conversation.  All of that was drowned out by a small group of people currently shouting and beckoning Ino and his date over towards them.

Most of the shouting came from Gojo, but Shoko and Utahime seemed to be at just the right amount of intoxicated to join in with loud bouts of laughter.  Nanami is also at the table, politely sipping his drink with a mere nod of greeting as Ino brings (y/n) their way.

“I guess I should have given you some warnings” He says under his breath as they make their way through the slight crowd. 

Most of the managers are grouped together, Nitta giving a friendly wave in passing before going back to a heated argument that made Ino and (y/n) chuckle to themselves.  It lightened some of the tension in (y/n’s) shoulders.  She didn’t want to bother him with her silly anxieties, but she’d been quite worried about showing up to an event full of people who were extraordinary, meanwhile she was merely a salary worker.

Don’t get her wrong, she worked hard and was proud of how quickly she’d moved up in the ranks, but how could she compare that to people with other-worldly abilities? People who actively saved lives? 

“Warnings?” She murmurs, glancing over at him, only to find his gaze already set on her.

“Not- not bad ones, necessarily,” Ino stammered.  “It’s just… Gojo is loud, and nosy, but he’s a good time and he means no harm, promise,” 

(y/n) nods in understanding, eyes flickering back to the table of sorcerers they were currently headed towards.  She had a pretty good idea of which one was Gojo.

“Nanami’s quiet.  He looks judgemental, but he’s not.  Well- maybe a little, but he’s polite.  So.  It’s fine, I don’t have any warnings about Nanami, he’ll like you a lot” 

“Yeah?” A flattered smile spreads across her glossy lips.  It was silly to take pride in being liked by a stranger, but she knew how much Ino looked up to his mentor, and it made her heart flutter to think he believed the man he respected so much would approve of her.

“Absolutely,” Ino’s voice is rich with certainty as he nods at her.  “Shoko’s kind of a weirdo, that’s just cause she works in the morgue all day so her sense of humor is… warped.  Utahime is her not-very-secret girlfriend, I’ve told you about that right?” 

(y/n) nods in confirmation.  She may have never met these people, but she felt like she knew most of them well enough just from the late night gossip sessions they’d have after a shared bottle of wine.

“Any questions?” He asked, slowing their steps the closer they got to the table.  

It was just like Gojo to set his little crew of odd semi-forced friends up in the corner where they could have some privacy, even though they were the loudest bunch of the whole gathering.  At least he had the decency to rent the place out so the only people he was bothering were those he already bothered on a regular basis.

“No,” (y/n) said softly, before reaching out and curling her fingers around the sleeve of his shirt, bringing his attention back towards her.  “Just one request?” 

Ino gives her a small nod, halting in place as he stares at her with a grave seriousness in his eyes.

“Don’t ditch me here?” 

He almost laughs at the ask, but he stops himself when he notes the hints of anxiety hidden in her expression.  The twitch at the corner of her mouth, the slight pinch in her brow.  He clears his throat and nods at her, before grinning widely.

“Of course not!” He declares, squeezing her wrist gently before she drops her hold on his sleeve.  “What do you take me for? A gentleman would do no such thing” 

And as they finally approach the table of Ino’s closest colleagues, they’re both laughing, and some more tension is relieved from her shoulders.

Ino’s quick to introduce her, and he goes around the table to remind her of everyone’s names quickly, trying to get the awkward stage out of the way as quickly as possible.  Everyone behaves well enough, or as well as he could hope for.  Utahime’s a bit excitable as she compliments (y/n’s) dress and sparkling accessories, but it helps to break the ice as the two slip into conversation about their favorite boutiques.

Ino wants to point out that the Kyoto based sorcerer never was one for small talk with him, but he keeps his mouth shut solely because (y/n) warms up to her and Shoko quickly and he doesn’t want to throw a wrench in their bonding.

Gojo’s clearly in the middle of some wild and possibly partially made up retelling about a special grade curse he’d exorcized on a recent assignment, so after introductions he resumes his exaggerated storytelling, giving (y/n) and Ino time to order drinks and chat with Shoko and Utahime a little longer.

“You’re pretty brave for coming,” Shoko points out to (y/n), earning a slight glare from Ino, to which she backtracks and waves her hand dismissively.  “I just mean because this is the worst” 

“I don’t think so” (y/n) shrugs with a sweet smile as she sips her drink.

“You don’t know us that well yet, you’ll change your mind later,” Utahime chimes in.  “This,” She gestures towards Gojo, who’s talking wildly with his hands as he reaches the climax of his story.  “Is why I took off to Kyoto, first chance”

It earns a laugh from Shoko and Ino, so (y/n) forces a small chuckle as well, but so far she couldn’t complain about the company.  Sure, the white haired man wearing sunglasses inside in the evening seemed a bit theatrical and high energy, but it was a party setting, right? So she could give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

“Speaking of-” Shoko gets up from her seat, not so subtly tapping Utahime’s hand, “I need a smoke” 

“Oh, yeah, me too”

Utahime glances at (y/n) and Ino with a raised brow, silently offering them to join, but one look at Shoko’s wide eyes tells them to shake their heads and stay in place.  Even if they did smoke, they were clearly not wanted at this particular break.

Once they’re out of sight, (y/n) turns to Ino, obviously fighting a grin on her face, before she leans in close to talk a little more privately.

“Oh, it’s painfully obvious” 

He laughs back at her, nodding his head in agreement before tapping the rim of his glass against hers.

Their moment is broken up when long limbs stretch across the empty space that Utahime and Shoko had left, and apparently Gojo had wrapped up his story because now he’s slinking towards the two with a coy grin on his face.

“We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?” 

(y/n) fights the urge to stagger backwards as he comes close.  He has a wild sort of energy surrounding him.  He’s intimidating, but not in a way that makes her afraid, just very aware of how large and powerful he is.  She wonders if even a non-sorcerer like her can pick up on signatures of cursed energy, or if this was just his raw aura.

But the way he smiles is inviting and the bubbly giggles that erupt from him provide nothing but a feeling of friendliness, as if he was someone (y/n) had known for years.

“Almost a year” She answers, forcing a smile that she hopes doesn’t come across as awkward as it feels.

“Wow, a whole year!” He cheers, raising his glass at the accomplishment.  “That’s absolutely marvelous.  A whole year, huh?” He repeats it again thoughtfully, tilting his head just slightly.

Ino’s not sure if she’s noticed, but since Gojo approached them, he hadn’t once torn his eyes off of her.  Perhaps she couldn’t tell with the dark shades covering his line of sight, but Ino had gotten quite used to reading Gojo’s body language even with the blockage of a blindfold.  

He also wasn’t a complete dunce, he knew that the way she looked tonight made it difficult for anyone to take their eyes off of her.  Even Utahime had gotten that glazed over look after they talked for long enough.  No one was immune, it seemed, but Gojo was probably the only person in the room that sparked a nasty feeling in Ino’s chest with the way he smirked down at her.

The feeling is a dull heat, only ignited into something worse when Gojo pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, bright blue eyes on full display, and now so obviously focused on (y/n).

“How does someone go a whole year living with a pretty thing like you and not make a move, hm?” 

Ino’s face twists up with shock and disgust, which humors Gojo as he begins to cackle, but he still doesn’t spare a glance away from (y/n), who barely reacts at all as she stands before them.  She simply tilts her glass around, slowly mixing the ice around her drink.  She doesn’t crack a laugh, but she also doesn’t give any sign that she’s upset with the unabashed flirting.

Neither of them are given the proper chance to respond to the bold comment, as suddenly Nanami’s approaching them, shooting Gojo a look that made the special grade sorcerer head off with some excuse about a fresh drink.

Thankfully, Nanami completely changes the subject of conversation, and Ino does his best to forget about what just happened as (y/n’s) properly introduced to his mentor.  They shake hands, exchange a few pleasantries, but are ultimately quick to jump into conversation about Ino himself- even with him still standing there.  

A lot of the stories they share are more embarrassing than he’d like, but he’s able to stand it for a little while.  For both of them, at least.  They were the most important people in his life after all, he’d been eager for them to finally meet.

But as soon as (y/n) gets Nanami to actually laugh about her first witnessing his cursed technique over an unwanted bug in the apartment, Ino finds himself using the same lame excuse of grabbing them a couple more drinks before he’s darting away from the downright humiliating memory.

(y/n) giggles and doesn’t even indulge Nanami in the story once Ino’s walked away.  She’d just wanted to make him sweat a little, and clearly his mentor had gotten a kick out of it as well.

“He clearly adores you,” Nanami says, cutting through the light hearted atmosphere with a statement so genuine that (y/n’s) features soften as she takes in his words.  “I’ll give him that.  He’s a good sorcerer, and person.  And clearly his judgment is well founded” 

It’s a… distinguished compliment, that’s for sure.  (y/n) finds herself blushing and she can’t even quite explain why.  Was it the compliment itself or the insinuation behind it? Ultimately she decides to play it off due to the slight buzz she was running on.

“I’m certainly lucky to have him,” She says, and just as she glances around the room to see where he’d gone, he’s already heading back towards her with two drinks in his hands.  “I owe a greater force big time for bringing me to him, don’t I?” She murmurs.

She doesn’t look back at Nanami when she speaks, her eyes too focused on the man headed in her direction.  The blonde sorcerer ducks his head and tries to cough over his chuckling.  It’s a pitiful attempt, but judging the glazed over look in her eyes as Ino comes near, he could probably count on her not having noticed his humored state.

“Thank you” She hums when Ino hands her the fresh glass, taking the empty one from her other hand and placing it on an empty table behind him.

“Did I take too long?” He asks, just quiet enough for her to hear.

There’s a look on her face he can’t quite read, but it’s so lovely he couldn’t even be bothered to try to decipher it as he smiles fondly back at her.

Nanami takes a subtle step backwards as he watches them mirror that lovesick look at one another.

“Not at all, I was just getting to know your mentor a little better,” She tells him, gesturing to Nanami, who had now turned and was walking away completely.  “He has very kind things to say about you” 

She tilts her head at him as her smile grows a little wider.  Ino raises a brow back at her, unable to help the small bit of laughter that escapes him as he holds her stare.

“That so?” He hums, growing amused as he realizes she’s just a little bit drunk.  “Are you having a good time?” He asks, and she knows he’s really asking if she’s feeling the alcohol a bit, but she nods back at him anyways, unbothered by the hidden question.

“I am, I’m glad you brought me” 

His smile softens.

“Me too” 

Utahime and Shoko return shortly after, and soon the four of them are seated at one end of the table sharing all sorts of stories, from work to drama to things they definitely didn’t need to share for being new acquaintances, (y/n) hit it off with the pair so well Ino didn’t want to do anything to reel her in.  He was just relieved to see her getting along with the people of that part of his life.

It also helped that throughout the night she seemed to draw closer and closer to him.  Whether they were walking up to the bar and she kept so close their arms brushed together, or when they sat down and she pulled her chair close to his so that when she was leaning into the table she was reaching across his lap and almost completely in his space.  Ino could almost pretend that she was his date for the night.  He’d weakly mustered up the courage to drape his arm over the back of her chair, but that was as much of a leap as he was willing to take.

Not long after though, she raised her empty glass in his direction, and her free hand reached over her shoulder where his hand dangled off her chair, so her fingers could wrap around his.

“Another?” She hums curiously, still swirling the glass in a small circle.

His hand unintentionally twitches when her soft skin brushes over it, and as if on instinct, she slots her fingers between his.

She’s touched him before, of course, it’s not like he’s never had skin-to-skin contact before.  When patching him up, or bumping into each other in the kitchen.  One thing was certain, though… they never held hands.

And she holds his hand now with that pretty smile on her face as she waits for him to answer her question- wait, shit, how long has it been since she asked him that question?

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get another round” He agrees, and carefully slides his chair back before standing, not wanting to bump into hers.

Even when she stands, she keeps her fingers curled between his.  Ino’s not sure if she’s even aware of it- should he pull his hand away? Or perhaps she was just a bit drunk and didn’t want to stumble in her heels- so keeping his hold on her would be the right thing to do, right? 

She gives Shoko and Utahime a cheeky little wave before following beside Ino towards the bar.  Their hands still clasped together between them.  He wonders if she knows that she’s making his heart race at an unhealthy pace.

But she must know, she must realize she’s still holding it, because once they approach the bar and wait for their drinks, she’s lazily swinging their conjoined hands back and forth as she strikes up a conversation with him.

“This is much cooler than any work event I’ve ever gone to,” She tells him.  “It’s always at a chain restaurant, and there’s a socially acceptable amount of drinks you can have” 

Ino chuckles at the slight pout on her face, and finds himself giving into the slight swing of their arms.  “This stuff barely ever happens,” He shrugs.  “Probably because most people can only take Gojo in concentrated amounts,” 

Her eyes are wide as she nods at him in understanding.  In the brief interaction she’d had with the special grade sorcerer, she already completely understood what he meant.

“But if this doesn’t end in disaster and there’s a chance for another one in eight to eighteen months, you’re invited” He teases.

She lights up like a christmas tree, as if he’s just promised her tickets to a sold out tour of her favorite artist, or a seat on the next shuttle to the moon.  Her lips curl into the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, eyes glimmering with her excitement and honor, and if Ino wasn’t swooning as hard as he was, he might’ve chuckled at the drunken delight.

“Really?” She gushes, eyebrows raising with her hope.  “You will?” 

A breath of a laugh escapes him as he nods, and she rocks on her feet momentarily, too giddy to stand still.  He can’t help but reflect her grin back at her.

They’re handed their drinks, and finally (y/n) pulls her hand out of his.  He tries not to show his disappointment.  Before Ino can think of something clever to say, something that borders the line of teasing and flirting that he’s usually so good at tip-toeing over, someone else joins them at the bar.

Gojo Satoru on a regular day is a menace.  Although Ino didn’t always mind, not like his mentor did.  More often than not, he’d match the energy and get a good laugh in for the day.  But at a work-social event?  Gojo was insufferable.  Ino had already decided this the second he’d decided to hit on (y/n).

Was he irritated for the right reasons? No.  Was he actively trying to get over his feelings for his sweet, perfect, beautiful roommate? Maybe.  Did that mean shit? Absolutely not.

He’s decided that as soon as Gojo purrs out another flirty line- which he’s bound to do judging from the way he’s currently looking at her- that he’s going to take her hand again and drag her away without a word.  His heart starts to race in his chest from the anticipation, knowing that it’s soon to come once Gojo’s done chatting her up about how swell of time she’s having.

As powerful as he was, Gojo Satoru could be a bit predictable.

“You know, I could show you some pretty neat things at Jujutsu Tech if you ever wanted to learn more about sorcery,” He’s good at disguising his propositions as simple acts of kindness.  Ino’s jaw twitches as it tenses, his teeth clamping down together.  “I’m a really good teacher, you know” 

“Oh?” (y/n) scoffs, she’s faster to react than Ino, and for being at a giggly-level of intoxicated, she plays off her scoff as playful as she quirks an eyebrow up at him.  “You should probably save it for your students, then,” She says, and Ino fights the urge to snicker.  Not very well, though, it’s pretty obvious when he purses his lips and his eyes crinkle with humor.  “Besides, I’m taken” 

Ino does a full double take, the joy on his face falling and transforming into one of utter bewilderment.  If (y/n) notices the reaction, she chooses to ignore it, too busy staring down Gojo with a pointed smile that seemed sweet but screamed get lost instead.

Gojo doesn’t seem remotely offended by the bomb drop of a refusal.  In fact, he almost looks amused by it.  He grins from ear to ear as he nods back at her in understanding.

“Of course,” He murmurs, his gaze finally shifting towards Ino, only for a moment, before it’s focused on (y/n) again.  “I wasn’t trying to offend” He says, and it’s genuine.

(y/n) beams.

“You didn’t” 

With that, Gojo nods again, and then he disappears again.  Off to mess with someone else, they suppose.  Ino’s pretty sure Nanami was left unattended and he’s likely the next victim.  If the situation wasn’t so pressing, he’d probably rush off to save his mentor from the torment.  

Sorry, Nanami.

“Taken?” 

He turns to (y/n) with a look on his face that makes her brighten up.  That cute look of confusion mixed with curiosity, she just had to bask in the adorable way his brows would pinch then relax, then pinch and relax, as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.  She giggles, her smile turning toothy as she lets him baffle himself for a few seconds longer.

And then, in that soft, saccharine voice, she murmurs up at him.

“Well, I sort of am, aren’t I?” 

The night didn’t last much longer after that.  Once Shoko and Utahime were tapping out and slowly leaving the venue so as not to be bombarded by anyone- Gojo- (y/n) clung to Ino’s side a little more, and grew a bit quieter as it got later, her buzz turning into sleepiness.  

It wasn’t until Nanami made his departure that Ino decided to call it.  The only other people who were still in for the night were the managers who didn’t know when to quit.

(y/n’s) leaning back in her chair, working on drinking a second glass of water and hardly paying attention to the conversation happening around her.  She’d pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her wrap, but she let the material stay draped over her shoulders.  Ino was convinced that she might fall asleep right there in her seat.

In the last couple of minutes, he’s glanced over to find her staring at him five or six times.  Eventually he can’t hide the way his smile betrays him, and he mumbles a ‘what?’ under his breath at her.

She giggles back at him, airy and carefree, before she leans over to brush a lock of hair that curled around his ear.  A noticeable blush dusted over his cheeks as soon as her finger grazed his skin, even though the motion is just her drunken form of platonic affection, she leans so close that he can smell her perfume, and even once she’s tucked the piece of hair behind his ear, she lingers there for just a minute longer.  The lump in Ino’s throat is too large for him to talk through, so all he can do is hope his eyes aren’t ridiculously wide as he stares back at her, before she settles back in her seat again.

He thinks he might cancel his upcoming haircut appointment.  Even though it’s length was starting to get a bit annoying, he might try out the longer hairstyle for a while.  And if (y/n) continues to reach out to give it a little tuck behind his ear then that would simply be a minor bonus, wouldn’t it? 

It dawns on him after he spirals on the thought for a while that the night should be wrapped up soon.  It was time to get back home where he could chug some water and hopefully forget about how much he’d embarrassed himself tonight.

“Hey,” Ino murmurs, tapping the back of her hand gently to get her attention.  Her eyelids are heavy as she glances over at him, a small smile gracing her lips.  “You ready to go home?” 

(y/n) wakes up a bit more at that, nodding her head and tucking her arms through the sleeves of her wrap.

They slip out not long after that.  Ino keeps his arm around her waist, murmuring something about keeping her upright that he’s not even sure she hears before she’s leaning against him, slowly walking along the sidewalk on their way to the train station.  The walk and ride home is mostly silent, but it’s comfortable.  He wouldn’t ask for anything else, as long as she was tucked into his side like she belonged there, like he was made to hold her like this.

He’s not sure if the heaviness in his heart is because he’s so full of love, or if it’s because he knows deep down that this would be the closest to having her as his as he could get.  Nonetheless, he keeps his hold on her secure until they’re back in the safety of their apartment.

“Thanks for the fun night, Ino,” She murmurs after kicking her shoes off by the door.  “Let’s definitely do it again sometime, ‘kay?” 

He can only manage a small smile and a nod of agreement back at her.  

“I better get to bed, I’m going to pass out,” She lets out a tired little laugh, but before heading off, she steps closer to him, hand reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze.  Again, he gives her a smile, about to bid her goodnight as he usually does, but before he can say anything, she’s leaning up and pressing her lips against his cheek.

She kissed him.

He blinks, and she’s already pulled away, still smiling before she’s headed off to bed with a quiet goodnight hanging between them.  

Needless to stay he stands at the door with his shoes still on for embarrassingly longer than necessary, his fingers ghosting over the spot on his face her lips had just blessed.

He was set back a few paces in his whole getting over her plan, tonight.  In fact, he might’ve been knocked all the way back to square one.

Oh well, there was always tomorrow to try again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should really make a move on that roommate of yours, you know” 

Nanami’s sudden advice has Ino swiveling his head away from lunch, nearly giving himself whiplash as he stares at his mentor in shock.  They hadn’t even talked about the event last friday, so far their talk today had been strictly work related.

(Except for when Ino saw a cat across the street while on a patrol and he insisted that Nanami named the stray before they went on their way.  That was less-than work related)

“What?” The word comes out in a mere squeak, disbelief evident in his twisted expression, but he’d heard Nanami perfectly clear.  The man nods again, chewing thoughtfully on his food before swallowing, and continuing on with his moment of advice.

Nanami didn’t often feel the need to give his pupil guidance outside of jujutsu sorcery.  Ino was quite capable of taking care of himself, for being a young man with an odd form of income, he’d always taken care of himself well.  

Now, however, the 7-3 sorcerer felt the need to involve himself with this one.  And he wasn’t afraid to tell his apprentice that he was being an idiot.

“She’s a quite lovely young woman,” Nanami continues, and Ino already feels himself begin to blush.  “It was a pleasure to meet her.  I can see why you like her so much” 

Ino gives a shaky nod, still suspicious of where this was all headed, and why Nanami was pushing him to make a move- or so he’d said.

“Yeah…” Ino agrees unsurely.  “(y/n’s)... great” 

Nanami hums as he nods his head, adjusting his glasses before sitting up straighter in his seat, giving Ino an unsettling amount of direct attention.

“She’s clearly infatuated with you,” The blonde sorcerer says bluntly.  “So what’s holding you back, hm?” 

Ino opens his mouth, but when an excuse doesn’t immediately come to mind, he shuts it again.  He gapes a few more times, and Nanami is patient as he waits to hear whatever terrible excuse he comes up with, but eventually it becomes clear that Ino’s been stunned into silence, so Nanami takes over again.

“You’re a capable young man, Takuma.  Whatever is holding you back, it’s time to let go of it.  I only had to talk to her for a few minutes to know that that young lady is in love with you” 

Ino’s still gaping like a fish, but as the words sink in, he snaps his mouth shut, and swallows the lump in his throat.

“What- uh- why are you telling me this?” He stammers out.  

Nanami sighs softly, a small smile gracing his lips.  It was heartwarming to see the shy young love blossoming before him.  At least, when it wasn’t obnoxiously ignored by Takuma.

“Because it’s obvious when you two look at each other.  Usually that means it’s time to fess up” 

“Wait wait wait,” Ino put his hands up, leaning over the table they shared as he wrapped his mind around the sudden advice.  “Are you giving me… romance advice right now?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Nanami grumbles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.  “But you’re ignoring it” 

“So you agree it’s romance advice-” 

“You love her, don’t you?” Nanami interrupts him then, brows raised pointedly as he waits for the confirmation.  It was a simple yes or no question, wasn’t it? 

When Ino shuts his mouth and swallows hard, Nanami accepts that as answer enough.

“Then don’t you think you should tell her?” 

“I…” Well, he couldn’t exactly argue with such sound advice, could he? And he certainly wasn’t about to argue with the mentor he respected beyond belief.  “I just don’t want to ruin a good thing” He admits quietly.

Now, even his ears feel like they’re on fire with the admission.

“And if you never say a thing and eventually she moves on to someone else? You wouldn’t regret your choice?” 

Ino frowns.  He should have known Nanami was only going to hit him with logic.

He finishes his lunch quietly, a silence settling between them as Nanami feels as though he’d said what he needed to say.  Ino was clearly thinking it over pretty hard- seeing as he was making his thinking face throughout the rest of their lunch break- and now all Nanami could do was hope his words would stick.

At the end of the day he wanted to see his pupil happy.  Takuma Ino was a good egg, and he deserved happiness.

It would also help if he didn’t have to sit through another event where they made heart eyes at each other for two and a half straight hours.  But mostly that first thing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ino’s nervous when he approaches the door of his apartment that evening.  It was a nice night, his final assignment didn’t go too late, and he made it home at the early early time of seven p.m.

When he does unlock the door and let himself inside, it’s not a surprise to be instantly greeted by (y/n), who grins at him from the kitchen.

“Ino!” Her smile stretches from ear to ear when he walks into the apartment.  She’s in the kitchen, wearing the silly but cute duckling themed apron she wore anytime she was in the kitchen, even if she was only using the toaster, she’d put that apron on.

So cute, he sighs as he leans back against the door, at a loss for words.  So domestic.  (y/n) looks puzzled by him staying at the door without coming in all the way, or saying hello.

With a concerned knot between her brows, she drops the utensil in her hand on the counter, and makes her way towards him.

“Ino?” She calls worriedly.  “You alright?” 

“Yeah- yeah, I’m fine, just tired, s’all” He stammers back, finally pulling the beanie off his head and dropping it on the small table they keep by the door, then kicking off his shoes.

(y/n) frowns.

“Long day?” She lets out a sigh, then wraps her arms around herself as she awaits whatever terrible thing he has to share.

Jujutsu sorcery wasn’t always about unique talents and powerful people, she’d learned quickly.  She’d seen Ino return home with a weight that only failing innocent people could place on his shoulders.  Tonight, she assumes that the lost, glazed over look on his face is due to something of the sort.

“It’s not like that,” He says as he watches her expression sadden.  Ino forces a quick smile as he shakes his head at her.  “Don’t worry about it” 

She doesn’t look at him any different, still frowning, still waiting for him to tell her what’s on his mind.

“I am worried,” She murmurs gently.  She doesn’t want to push him, but she needed him to know that she was there for him if he needed to get something off his chest.  “Did something happen-?” 

“No- no it’s really not…” He tries to explain to her that his anxiety tonight has nothing to do with work, but he doesn’t yet know how to tell her that it had everything to do with her.  He wasn’t sure how she’d take it.  Wasn’t sure if it would come out right.

Growing more concerned by the second, (y/n) takes a larger step closer, her hands reaching out for his out of instinct.  He flinches slightly when she first takes hold of them, but he lets her.  He lets her squeeze onto them and pull them close to her.

“If you need to talk about it-” 

Ino doesn’t like the way she looks at him like she could break just thinking he was in some sort of pain.  So before he can refine the words in his mind, he blurts out what had been plaguing him.  

“What did you mean the other night when you told Gojo you were taken?” 

It does the trick, because her expression morphs instantly.  She’s staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, lips still parted around the rest of her question that she now drops completely.  It catches her so off guard that she’s dead silent for a few seconds.

“And then you said you sort of were- what does that mean?” Ino’s prepared with another question, and she worries he’ll keep piling them on before she could come up with the proper answers for them.

Her face feels warm, and a nervous smile spreads on her lips, followed by a small chuckle that dies in her throat.  It’s a cute sound, anxious, but cute nonetheless.  It makes the corner of Ino’s lips tilt upwards upon hearing it.  It was a natural reaction, smiling whenever she would laugh.  He couldn’t help it.  Seeing her happy, even in a state of nervous energy, set butterflies free in his stomach in a way he hadn’t felt since his childhood.

“I… I meant…” She’s stuttering, voice failing her the longer his honey brown eyes are staring into hers.  “You know what I meant” She finishes the thought quietly, barely under her breath.

He softens, and then melts before her.  His hands squeeze her with the smallest amount of force, barely there, but enough for her to feel it.

She’s blushing, her cheeks a rosy shade of pink that’s so lovely he almost can’t stand it.  He leans towards her, watching as her eyes grow a little rounder upon the close proximity.

“(y/n),” He murmurs, so soft she wouldn’t have caught it if the syllables of her name didn’t brush against her skin with his breaths.  “I need you to tell me, alright? Because-” He pauses, his eyes flickering between hers for a moment, and she swears they dart down to her lips before raising to her eyes again.  “- because I need to know I’m not seeing things and- and making them up before I do something stupid that I can’t take ba-” 

“How stupid?” She cuts him off, pressing closer, as if it could get her an answer faster.  It might work, because she barely finishes the question before he’s replying.

“Very stupid” He breathes through the words, like it pained him to even say them.

The faintest of laughs fall from her lips, before she tilts her head and gazes up at him fondly.

“Who knew you thought twice about stupid things before you did them?” She teased.  It’s so soft, so sweet, that he cracks a smile.  It washes away all of his nerves, and his stupid idea doesn’t seem so stupid anymore.

Tugging on her hands, he pulls her closer to him, until she’s practically tripping into his chest, but he doesn’t care when they collide unceremoniously.  He’s already letting go of her hands so that she can brace them against his shoulders, steadying herself, and just in time before he’s cupping her face in his hands and slamming his lips against hers.

As sudden as the kiss is, (y/n) meets him with the fervor of a long awaited passion.  Her hands squeeze his shoulders, latching probably too tight but if it hurts he shows no sign of pain.

His lips are so soft, despite being chapped and his kisses being rushed, they were so gentle against hers that she could feel her knees wobbling.  He’d probably tease her for it later, but right now she couldn’t care.

He kisses her like they only have a limited amount of time.  As if they’re not at the entryway to their shared apartment.  His hands slide from her cheeks to the sides of her head, into her hair, holding onto her with a firm grip- as if she’ll slip away from him at any moment.

But the truth was, this was heaven.  She could stand here and kiss him and be kissed by him for hours.  Days, even.

He only pulls away from her when his body has him gasping for air, chest heaving, lips hanging open as he pants, she has to giggle just a little bit at his desperation.  Even if she matched it as well.

Their noses are still pressed together, and their hands remained latched onto one another as they both caught their breath.  Ino shares her laughter once the haze over his mind clears up and the reality of what they just did sinks in.

“So,” He mumbles, heavy eyes finding hers, making her fight the urge to steal another kiss.  “Stupid?” 

With a smile she tries to bite back, she shakes her head at him.

“No,” She murmurs back.  “Not stupid” 

Dinner is forgotten on the counter, going cold the longer it remains that way.  

Ino beats her to another kiss.  It feels like ages as they stand at the door embracing one another, kissing in between fits of giggles and sweet confessions, and kissing just to kiss.

He understood exactly what she meant when she’d said she was taken.  Because, well, he sort of was too.  Long before now.  His heart was stolen the day she responded to his ad, and with it their fates sealed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s better than i ever even knew // they say that the world was built for two // only worth living if somebody is loving you // and baby now you do. ]

[bunni-v1]

hii, can I request "First Years Finding Out Your A Girl" with sebek and ortho please?

Ortho and Sebek Find out You’re a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Swearing (as usual lol); Ortho being creepy; Misogyny mention <3; Reader goes by she/her and is biologically female; Book 6 spoilers (very light, but still there); Bunni hasn't read Book 7 and therefore doesn't know what they're talking about :)

Info: Ortho x Reader; Sebek x Reader; Fem!Reader; Platonic

🍓Hi. If you’ve read the first part of this, I copy pasted the intro. Not because I’m lazy or anything (I’m a little lazy, but I’m a full-time college student who also has a part-time job, so I think I can be excused.) It’s mostly because… It’s a good intro. If people are just discovering this stuff then they can read it, but if you’ve read the first part you can just skip to the good good yk. Anyway, long-ass babble session, but I didn’t include Ortho and Sebek initially because they’re kind of new to the First year group so idk. Felt weird including them. Also, I haven’t read book seven so Sebek I bullshit a lot lol. Anyway, they’re here now, and I absolutely ADORE Ortho, so sorry if my favoritism shows.

First Years

Second Years

Third Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Ortho 

-Okay, so Ortho is a little creepy weirdo. He’s a highly advanced robot who likely has autism, and loves his big brother a whole fucking lot. 

-(Side note: Can a robot, child, or thing have autism? Does that mean Idia programmed Ortho to be autistic? How silly of him.)

-It’s my personal head cannon that Idia DECKED this kid out in as much high-tech gear as he could get his hands on. 

-He’s equipped with some of the most complex medical features, therefore he has access to a database of all students at NRC’s medical files. (This is not legal, but he does not care for the law.)

-“But Bunni, what does that have to do with the prefect?” Well, Ortho is ALSO equipped with the latest medical scanner on the market.

-Think like Baymax, yeah? He can scan everyone one time and know every piece of medical knowledge readily available.

-Well, Ortho, the sweet little creep he is, automatically scans the medical information of any new person he sees/meets into his database — just in case it may come in handy.

-So, before he even KNOWS you. Before he speaks a single word to you, he knows you’re biologically a female.

-He scanned you without thinking and just shrugged his shoulders at it.

-You’re not from here, and you got thrown into this, so you being a woman doesn’t really matter too much to you being at NRC. 

-It honestly could’ve been anyone getting stuck here, so why should he question it?

-However, he notices that you are referred to with exclusively “male” pronouns, so he marks in your file that you are trans and moves on. 

-Again, who cares? He’s a magical robot guy based on his brother's dead brother. Who was he to judge?

-When he finally ACTUALLY gets to interact with you after being welcomed into the first-year squad, he’s very respectful of your gender.

-You are a man to him, therefore he refers to you with exclusively masculine pronouns.

-However, everyone in your little group already knows, and they assume that Ortho knows. So when they speak about you, they use feminine pronouns.

-Ortho, sweet as he is, immediately questions everyone as to why they’re misgendering you.

-Protective of the people he cares for at heart, he doesn’t like the idea that your so-called closest friends are misgendering you behind your back.

-Doesn’t believe them completely when they explain, so he goes to you because you’re the only one who knows who you really are.

-“Prefect!”

“Hey, Ortho! What’s up? Miss me?”

“Of course I do, but I have a very important question.”

“Sure, what do ya need?”

“Are you a woman?”

-At this point 90% of your friends know, but there is a handful that doesn’t… and you can’t be having that.

-You, of course, assure Ortho that you are not only a woman, but that your friends are not misgendering you behind your back.

-Relieved, he takes several of your friends off a hit list and removes the trans man label on your medical chart.

-Asks why you hid your gender in the first place.

-Promptly adds Crowley to a hit list (again).

-Ortho, out of EVERYONE at NRC, has absolutely zero behavior changes toward you. 

-He’s equally protective as he was before, he spends the same amount of time with you as usual, he doesn’t suddenly have some weird crush on you, and he’s still trying to set you up with Idia.

-Honestly, everyone should take notes from Ortho. He’s the best at this whole thing.

Sebek

-On the other hand… do not take notes from Sebek! He sucks at this! He sucks really badly!

-Out of all the first years, Sebek is not only the least close to you, but he is also incredibly mean. So you just… feel no obligation to tell him.

-In fact, you kind of… sort of… actively leave him out of the loop for a really long time.

-I mean, it's not an unreasonable thing to do. He is constantly berating you and putting you down for being human. You have no idea how he feels about women and you don’t want to find out first hand.

-In all honesty, he is the only person (other than Azul and the twins) that you’re really scared of finding out, and take extra precautions to ensure he doesn’t find out.

-However, you attend NRC, and nothing ever goes your way at NRC.

-Despite every precaution you take to keep your gender under lock and key, you overlook one thing.

-Malleus Draconia.

-His complete and total lack of social awareness is your downfall here. He finds out, and despite everything telling him to keep his mouth shut… he doesn’t. Because of course, he doesn’t.

-At this point, you’ve gone through most of your misadventures, and most — if not all — of your friends know you’re a girl.

-Hell, even Silver knows now. Everyone BUT Sebek knows.

-And he finds out because Malleus casually mentions it over dinner. Not even directly about your gender, he just uses she/her pronouns.

-Sebek, being Sebek, respectfully asks Malleus if he meant to say he. Malleus, of course, says no without a second thought.

-The shock and horror on Silver and Lilia’s faces was enough to be further confirmation.

-And Sebek’s world shatters.

-He was completely left out of the loop and also has a moral conflict now.

-As much shit, as I gave Sebek (as everyone gives Sebek) he RESPECTS women. His queen is a woman, and his mother is a woman. 

-In his eyes, women are some of the strongest people around. Regardless of if they’re human or not.

-You, on top of being a human from another realm who had successfully quelled several of the strangest students at NRC’s OVERBLOTS and came out on top, was also a woman.

-If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what it was.

-However, his bias against humans strongly clashes with his respect for women in this case.

-And it just… messes with his head. 

-He doesn’t treat you worse, in fact, he’s just… really awkward around you now.

-He doesn’t know if he should apologize or berate you for being a human, so he just stays stiff and glares at you.

-It's honestly more scary than him constantly talking down to you.

-However, once the two of you actually befriend one another, he apologizes to you. For everything, and explains where he’s coming from. Why he acted the way he did, how he really feels about you, and all that sweet shit.

-Afterwards, he is genuinely the best at keeping your secret (if he even needs to at this point).

-If there is anyone you can trust to keep his stupid mouth shut at NRC, it's Sebek. 

-His honor and pride force him into silence when it comes to secrets he promises to keep.

-In fact, if anyone is on your trail about it, he’s the first one to jump in the way and scare them off/shut them down.

[rosewaterandivy]

answer July— ah, said July—

summary: from Summersong Request-athon, inspired by "July, July!" as requested by marvelous Meg aka @courtingchaos 💜 || The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.

Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.

w.c.: 4700

pairing: e.m. x f!reader

themes: prosaic summer feels, the ephemeral nature of time, processing trauma, mention of previous bodily harm & its aftermath, insecurities and the like, body worship

a/n: long time, no see my fellow fiends. did i let this run away from me? maybe. do i care? not a wit! thanks for tagging along with the team, aka let eddie have a nice, normal summer for once - hope you enjoy! title from "Answer July" by Emily Dickinson.

Summer slipped by syrupy slow, lingering around the edges. All honey-coated and sweet, so much so in fact, that it struck one Eddie Munson as rather strange.

Granted, his spring had been touch and go what with being the town pariah and nearly bleeding his ever-loving guts out in the Upside Down and all. So maybe a slow uneventful summer was well-warranted after all of that.

May sprinted past with its final school bells ringing and a quick dash across the stage at graduation to snatch a diploma from Higgins before the school board could think better of it. He hastily threw together a quick campaign to welcome Will Byers back to town and only somewhat regretfully passed the mantle of Hellfire over to Henderson.

He got himself a job, nothing to write home about, but certainly something to pass the time and get him out of the house. Wayne insisted Eddie didn’t need to work and Eddie said the same for him, the never-ending cycle rearing its head once more.

The government hush money was, after all, nothing if not generous.

Still, he felt ill at ease in the new house. Liable to crawl out of his skin at times.

Besides, if it weren’t for the job, he’d have never set his sorry sights on the newbie behind the counter at the soda fountain.

Yes, of fucking course Hawkins, Indiana had an old-fashioned soda shop pharmacy combo.

Which did nothing to help his sweet tooth.

So, on the days he happened to close the record store, Eddie would peer across the street searching for a familiar head of hair, usually swept up onto a bun or ponytail by day’s end, and a smile that could melt the cockles of his cold, black heart.

The bell chimed as you rung up a sale for a customer at the register, the cash drawer grazing a bit of skin at your hip as you turned.

“Be with you in a sec!”

Eddie settled himself on a well-worn stool and drummed his fingers along the polished counter. He watched as you counted change for one of the old biddies who all but forced casserole down the throats of the Munson men after he’d been discharged from the hospital.

She thanks you and shoves a dollar in the tip jar as she makes to leave.

“Looking lovely as ever Pearl,” A low familiar voice says.

“Oh, you sweet talker,” The older woman swats at Munson still perched on his stool. She tsks and tugs at a lock of hair that’s fallen from where he’d tied it back in frustration. “One of these days I’ll come at you with my scissors, young man.”

Eddie sighs dramatically and swivels on the stool as she reaches the door, “Promises, promises. And yet…”

Pearl pushes the door open and says with a wink, “You’ll never see me coming.”

The door falls shut behind her, allowing him to return his attention to you behind the counter.

At the far end of the shop, you’re hefting open freezer doors and scooping out near perfect spheres of ice cream onto sugar and waffle cones, scoffing when someone requests a cup instead.

He’s surprised to see no one else behind the counter, there’s usually at least one person to man the counter with during the busier hours, the after dinner rush.

The door keeps chiming as people join the line, eyeing the offerings— campfire marshmallow, french toast, vanilla, strawberry, rainbow sherbert— the list goes on and on. Some lean over and whisper to their dates, earning a tittering giggle here and there. Sticky hands of children smack against the glass pointing out their selection as you shove another scoop onto a towering waffle cone.

And it’s then that Eddie decides he’s had quite enough of this.

Tossing his bag behind the counter and hopping over it, all long limbs and pointy elbows. His knees pop slightly as he passes behind you to grab a scoop from the water trough.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh, helping out?”

And without another word, he turns to the next customer and takes their order, only stepping on the toes of your Keds once or twice before locating the correct flavor.

“God,” He mutters under his breath, the tendons of his forearm prominent as he scoops a glob of pink cotton candy ice cream onto a sugar cone. “People actually like this crap?”

You merely shrug in response before sliding the freezer door shut and opening the next. It goes like this for nearly half and hour before Vickie stumbles in from the service entrance, her cheeks tinged pink and accompanied by a dazed look in her eye.

“Sorry, sorry!” She frantically apologizes, clocking in with her punch card.

Tying on an apron, which Eddie never bothered to do, she greets the customers at the till and rings them up while you make what could very well be the hundredth shake ordered that day, the mixer revving loudly over your retort.

“I’ll allow it,” You turn with a knowing smirk to Vickie, “But you owe me big time, Little Red.”

“Details?” She squeaks.

“Oh, that and more Vic,” You laugh as the machine whirs to a stop.

Deftly, you pour the shake into a cup and shake the canister of whipped cream vigorously. Eddie tries and fails to hide the blush coloring his cheeks as your shirt rides up with the motion. The ‘JERK’ emblazoned on your chest pulling taut against the swell of your breasts from the movement.

He nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Shit,” He rasps as his throat pulls tight.

Passing the shake over with a polite smile to a customer, you thump him forcefully on the back.

Which would be all well and good, if not for the fact that he wasn’t expecting it, and, as a result, falls bodily into your chest, legs tangling with yours, and takes the pair of you down to the mat behind the counter.

“Ow.”

Peering open an eye, he finds Vickie, arms crossed and toe tapping the tile floor, looking down at the both of you with a bemused pull of her lips.

“See, this is why it’s employees only behind the counter,” You say with a grunt as you peel yourself from the floor. “You’re not OSHA certified, Munson.”

Eddie digs the heel of his palms into his eye sockets, hoping that maybe he can just sink into the floor and forget this ever happened.

Because you’re warm, what with having worked up a sweat manning the counter single-handedly and your legs are nice; too nice maybe, with the way his heart is kicking up in his chest, to say nothing of what’s kicking up in his pants.

“Sorry,” He sighs, coming to a seated position. “Are you okay?”

Dusting your hands against the denim cutoffs you’re sporting, you turn and give him a smile. “Never better.”

Legs still tangled, you unwind your limbs from his, crisp white Keds knocking against scuffed Reeboks. He takes the hand you offer and allows himself to be pulled up, only to be greeted by six beatific smiles and less than subtle winks or nods.

“Sooooo,” Dustin drawls, fingers drumming against the glass of the freezer, “Fun trip?”

The ensuing laughter and taunts from what was formerly his favorite group of high schoolers, is enough to make Eddie miss the solitude of Reefer Rick’s cabin.

_

If May was a sprint, then June was a dive into cool water.

Rope swings lassoed around tree branches, splashing into a placid lake from great heights. Blankets spread on rocks and grass for makeshift picnics. The hum of cicadas as lips wrapped around lifted bottles of booze from the Harrington’s liquor cabinet.

Nearly a month gone and Eddie still hadn’t worked up the courage.

Which is how he found himself perched on rock formation that bordered Lover’s Lake with the boys— Harrington, Byers, and Argyle— playing barely tipsy lifeguard as you swam circles around Nancy, Robin, and Vickie. The latter two had somehow wound themselves into a Gordian Knot of limbs and had earned an eagle-eyed glare from one former captain of the swim team.

“Go to the shallows!” Steve called out, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at his feet. “No, Rob,” He huffed and stood up, “You gotta use your arms, like this!” He demonstrated with a perfect backstroke that Robin seemed woefully unequipped to replicate.

“What?!”

Robin’s befuddled call echoed against the rocks lining the shore and spurned Steve into action.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, passing the bottle off to Eddie. “Stay there ya dingus!”

Steve’s body elegantly cut into the water and he surfaced to a smattering of applause from those still perched on the rock.

“Good form, I’d give it a solid 8.5,” Eddie decreed before taking long pull from the bottle.

“Now way man,” Argyle piped up, “That’s at least a 9.The way he slipped into the water like that? Some top tier stuff right there.”

He elbowed Jonathan who was preoccupied with blowing rings from his joint.

“Huh? Oh, uh. 5?”

Steve merely rolled his eyes and swam toward Robin and Vickie, who where no closer to shore now than they were when this whole charade began.

“You’re shitting me dude. A 5 out of 10?”

“Oh, fuck.” Jonathan completed one rather slow blink in Eddie’s direction. “I thought it was like, out of five. My bad.”

Argyle called out the new score from the judges to Steve, who had his hands full with Robin and Vickie’s frantically kicking and thrashing limbs, so much so, that he was rather relieved when you swam up beside him to help.

Eddie placed the bottle between his feet and leaned back on his hands, face turned toward the night sky.

Stars littered the inky blue like so many twinkling lights. A few lightning bugs buzzed further along the edge of the wood, a soft yellow glow to guide through the dark. The lake grew calm again, small lapping waves skirting the shore as distant voices grew closer.

“Hey man,” Argyle nudged Eddie’s shoulder with his, knocking him from his reverie. “How’s our favorite soda jerk?”

He smiled despite himself, “She’s fine, I guess.”

“Hmm. And Operation Meatball?”

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes, “Henderson got to you too, I see. That kid needs to get a hobby.”

Dustin, and the rest of his band of hellions, had gotten it into their heads that Eddie and you were destined to be. Had an entire notebook dedicated to plans and named the whole endeavor after a scene from Lady and the Tramp, which Eddie couldn’t even bring himself to protest.

“I dunno dude,” Argyle shrugged, “She’s schmokin and I may have seen her eye you a time or two.”

He was glad for the cover of night, because his face felt positively on fire.

“You know, if you’d—” Argyle began, only to get cut off by the sound of approaching footfalls.

“Hey guys,” You greeted, stepping onto the rock and dripping water onto Eddie’s arm. “Oh, shit, sorry Ed!” You take a step back and grab a towel from a nearby bag. Tying your hair up in the striped towel, you settle back at his side. “Ooh, got any more of that?”

He follows your eyes to the bottle at his feet, and stretches to grab it. Your damp fingers brush his along the neck of the bottle, and he, impossibly, blushes all the more.

“S’all yours.”

“Much obliged,” You say with a nod toward him.

Your lips wrap around the bottle, and Eddie can’t help but watch a rivulet of water trickle its way down your throat. His fingers itch to chase it, his tongue longs to taste it.

Jonathan deploys a well-timed cough and pointed glance in Eddie’s direction to excuse himself and Argyle.

“Catch you later chica,” Argyle promises with a grasp to your shoulder, “Lemme know when that horchata flavor comes in!”

You promise to do so with a laugh and a wave, before turning your attention back to the water. Eddie sits at your side, quiet, save for the movemnt of his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. There’s a few sounds from Steve dutifully pouring Robin and Vickie into the BMW with conferring with Nancy as she wrangles Jonathan and Argyle into the station wagon.

“You good?”

Turning at the sound of Nancy’s voice, Eddie can see your mouth pull into a smile, the white of your teeth bringing to mind a cheshire cat. Your elbow knocks into his as you duck toward him conspiratorially.

“Whaddya say, Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

Lightning bugs float around your damp hair that’s fallen from its turban, water slick waves drying slowly in the summer heat. A halo blurry gold around your head, Eddie loses all faculty of language, lost in the soft glow cast against your sun warmed skin.

“Take me home?”

He merely nods in response, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I’m good!” You call back to Nancy and take another pull from the bottle.

“Call me when you’re home!”

The sound of car engines turning over fills the air, tires crunching over gravel and dried pine needles littering the forest floor. The heat of the day quickly dissipates, replaced with a soft breeze that alleviates a bit of the humidity. And it’s quiet on the shore, save for the clinking of the bottle as you take sips every so often.

For all his gregarious and dramatic antics, truth be told, Eddie didn’t quite know how to simply be. At least, not since spring break with the nearly dying and all of that. He’d returned to the land of the living a little more somber, recovering in the hospital between hushed tones from doctors and nurses, louder exclamations from Henderson and his brood, the comforting weight of Wayne’s hand at his shoulder.

Sure, he’d rallied.

Put on a brave face for the kids, found familiarity in a strained smile mirrored in Steve. Noticed his own body jerking in time with Robin’s at the sound of an unanticipated loud noise. Was quick to cover his discomfort with a joke buoyed by Argyle’s raucous laugh. Found himself helping Nancy plan outings to take everyone’s mind off of things. Sought out Jonathan to share a smoke when it all got to be too much.

But you—

He never minded the quiet with you.

Eddie could maybe, for a moment, let it fall away.

A clink of a glass bottle broke his reverie as it joined the others discarded on the ground.

“This is nice,” You said with a languid stretch, arms raised above your head and falling in a graceful arc as you settled back against the rock.

He had to agree.

“Can I uh, ask you something?”

Your voice had taken on an unfamiliar tone, almost as if you made yourself smaller and unsure. It wasn’t his favorite, he had to admit. Eddie preferred the unapologetic way you carried yourself, a royal flush of confidence which you bandied about with no inhibitions.

Timid didn’t suit you, at least, not in his humble opinion.

He knocked shoulders with you, tried to inject some levity into his voice.

“Shoot.”

“Well,” You squirmed next to him, “And you don’t have to answer this if like, it makes you uncomfortable— the last thing I wanna do is offend you, swear to God.” You take a breath to steel yourself. “I just, I noticed you weren’t swimming today.”

“Ah.”

“I mean,” You clear your throat, “You really never swim, not at Steve’s pool, not here. So.”

“Are you asking if I can swim?” He jokes, “Because, I’m definitely capable. Dear old Dad threw me into a creek,” crick, “And told me to get on with it.”

A hushed laugh falls from your lips, “So, you can but you don’t. Any reason why?”

“Well that,” He says, softer now, “Is quite the story.”

You hum, content with the response not pushing for more than he’s willing to share.

“Tell me someday?”

And oh, is he in trouble. Because the odds of that are more far likely than you’d think.

You’re quick to pack up after that. Eddie trails after you, tossing an odd can or cigarette butt into a trash bag and hauling it to the van. He scratches the light stubble of his jaw, nail catching along the scar decorating his cheek. It’s not as bad as it had been, mostly white with pink tinged edges, and receding into his jawline enough to slip most notice.

It’s not that Eddie regrets the scars, he did what he had to do— the whorls of pink and white puckered skin that now embellished him from hip to shoulder were a simple reminder of that.

Just not one that he’s keen to advertise.

He lets you fiddle with the radio, static crackling through the speakers before the opening riff of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” sails through. An easy smile lights up your face as you lean back in the seat and sing along.

I’ll be with you my darling, soon, I’ll be with you when the stars start falling

His grip tightens on the wheel and he wills himself to focus on the road ahead and not the soft croon of your voice. Which is kind of difficult given how sweet you sound, how desperate he is for your touch.

He rolls up to your apartment complex by the song’s end, having had the pleasure of your signing for the duration of the drive. And Eddie’s probably biased, but he thinks you could give Jack Bruce a run for his money.

He parks the van in front of your building, letting it idle as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You’re grooving a little bit in your seat, and Eddie allows himself a moment to be selfish— gazing as you shake out your mostly dry hair and sway in time to the song, a secret smile pulling at his lips.

Opening your eyes, you meet his gaze. Leaning over the consol, your fingers caress his jaw, turning him to face you fully. The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.

Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.

I’ve been waiting so long, to be where I’m going in the sunshine of your love.

_

But July—

July passes like a dream, as delightful as the sugary syrup currently crawling its way down your arm. The bomb pop melting all too quickly in the height of the summer sun, trickles of red, white, and blue cascade down your sun hewn skin.

A screech pierces the air as Eddie leans over from his seat on the Harrington’s patio to lick the drips from your arm.

Loud enough to draw the attention of the kids and soon his soft huffs of laughter as replaced with a prolonged “Eeeewwww,” from the girls and an offended scoff of “Gross,” from Henderson.

“Can it!” Steve says, volleying a beach ball at his head, knocking his ever-preset baseball cap into the chlorinated water.

Eddie nods in thanks before continuing his assault of your arm.

“Shit, babe, no teeth!”

He ignores this and elects to dig his teeth into the temptation of your skin. You swat him away and recline back in your chair, Raybans affixed to your face, a pout on your lips.

“You’re no fun,” He grouses, kicking back in his recliner. “You use teeth.”

“Artfully,” You quip back in reply, “Poetry will be written about the exploits of my chompers, the deftness, the skill with which I decorate canvases of skin.”

And well yeah, Eddie would know. He has several bruises blossoming along his torso and thighs from said exploits.

So he really couldn’t complain.

He lets the clubmasters slide back onto his face, the blue polarized lenses giving the scene a cooler, dreamier tint. His hand falls to the side, fingers walking their way over to tangle with yours. You give him a quick squeeze before turning your attention back to your latest bookstore acquisition, The Handmaid’s Tale.

In fact, once Eddie got over himself and blurted out some amalgamation of ‘Can I take you out?’, you’d booped him on the nose in response, much to his horror, and waited a beat to say:

“Sure thing, stud,” — Eddie’s summer had only gotten better.

Was it annoying to have near daily occurrence of high schoolers singing “Summer Lovin’” at him? Yes. Were you worth it? Obviously.

Eddie had attempted to date, briefly and disastrously, in the past. In that respect, maybe he was a little gun shy.

But one night stands? Quickies? Handies after a deal at a party? Bjs in the back of the van?

Yeah, that he’d done. And was definitely the more enthusiastic partner in retrospect. And now, with you?

Well, suffice it to say that your first round in the sack wasn’t exactly picture perfect, and he’d nearly gotten a broken nose for all his effort. But, y’know, learning curve and all that, maybe some lighting was required so he could avoid getting socked in the mouth or something.

“Yuck, what is that?” Dustin says with thinly veiled annoyance, gesturing to your hand clasped in Eddie’s. “Hands Across America?”

“The fuck,” Eddie perks up, squinting as he flips his sunglasses onto his forehead. “Hands doing what now?”

“Pfft,” You blow a raspberry and lazily thumb over to a new page, “You don’t even know what day it is, or what’s going on.”

“Yeah, and I wish I knew even less.”

“Hands Across America was months ago, by the way.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Really and truly.”

“So, hey,” Eddie ignores Dustin’s gagging and turns toward you in earnest. “D’ya like sex?”

“Uh huh.”

“And travel, you like that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well then, sweetheart,” He drops your hand from his, drawing your interest away from the plot.

You huff, perturbed by the interruption and glance his way.

“Then you can fuck right off.”

Eddie raises a solitary finger elegantly, aristocratically even. Something practiced time and time again until it became second nature. It’d be kind of impressive if he weren’t so damned annoying about it, flipping the bird every chance he got.

A trait that, unfortunately, the young Wheeler had adopted as his own.

Despite yourself, a laugh breaks from your lips, loud enough to draw the other’s attention from the pool.

“God, I hate you.”

“Really and truly?”

“Oh, you bet sunshine.”

Unbeknownst to the pair of you, Steve and Robin had corralled the kids out of the pool and lured them away with the promise of pizza. Nancy sidles out from the sliding glass door with the cordless in hand, tossing it over to Eddie.

“We got the usual— cheese, pepperoni, and cheesy bread. But I know you’re particular, so.”

“Right on, Wheels. Good lookin’ out.”

Eddie grabs for you again fingers twining with yours as he rattles off the usual to the pizza guy as Nancy makes her way back inside.

“Hey man, can I get an order of mushroom and black olive with the banana peppers and a shit ton of red pepper flakes? Uh huh, yeah.”

He pulls the phone away from his face, tucking it against his jaw to mouth something to you.

You watch his lips, red from one too many popsicles, form the words.

“Garlic sauce? Hell yeah.”

He returns to the call.

“And the— Oh, you heard that? Cool. Thanks, man.”

He hangs up and tosses the phone onto a rumpled pile of towels, tugging at your arm.

“Ugh, what,” You grouse, finally dropping your book on the patio.

“You’re so far away,” He whines, draping the back of his hand across his forehead to heave a woeful sigh. “Oh, when will my beloved return from the war?”

You roll your eyes and clamber over to his pool chair, straddling his hips. “Okay, calm down Scarlett. Tara is thattaway.” You hike a thumb somewhere in the general vicinity of what you’re pretty sure is south. You laugh and crawl your way into his lap.

And, here’s the thing:

It’s easy.

A foreign concept in Eddie’s life up until this particular point.

Which is to say, that since the advent of your relationship with him, Eddie found himself spending more time on his knees than he ever had amongst the pews.

While there’s no catechism for for this particular piety, he’ll take this act of communion for what it is—

His lips and tongue spouting devotionals as he kneels between your thighs. And he’d never been one for God, but maybe He’d made it so two bodies can fit holy wholly together.

After all, he’d been penitent enough.

You twine a streamer of his hair around your finger, head slotting into the cul-de-sac of his throat. His arms wind about your hips, anchoring you in place.

Steve sticks his head out to say he’s forcing the kids on a field-trip to get the pizza, Nance and Robin are grabbing some drinks from the store.

You hum in idle contentment and sink further into Eddie, as if he could consume you entire.

If my body is of your body and your body is of mine, can ever the two be parted? What lies in me now does in you, a reflection in kind.

The marks that decorate his skin, both intentional and accidental, fail to define him.

If they ever really could.

You’d traced their shape, plotted their paths, and transmuted them before his very eyes. The weight, the lead sinking and skittering and pulling him down was no more.

“If I could,” you’d said softly one night, a riot of arms and legs tangled against his own, a lone finger rhapsodizing against his ribs, travelling a familiar continent. “I’d paint you golden.”

No, not gilt.

But gold.

It still daunts Eddie how freely he fell— for you and the effervescent joy that flourished in your wake. It used to unnerve him, if he thought about it too much. For the longest time, he wasn’t sure if what he felt was real, or simply a facsimile of love.

He learned not to dawdle in his darker moods.

He’d hummed at your declaration, so much more accustomed to gloomier comparisons. You’d turned up at him, cleaving your chin across the ladder of his ribs, eyes big and brighter than any star he’d ever seen.

And he hadn’t known what to say.

Weeks had passed and he still hadn’t a clue how to respond.

“Hey,” Dustin yells, striding out of the sliding glass door. “Dinner’s ready!” He waits impatiently, striking a similar pose to that of Steve when he’s at his wit’s end.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, shooing him away and slinging a leg off of the recliner.

He takes you with him, much to your protest.

“Noooo,” you whine, “Eddie, the physical therapist said—”

“That I’m fine,” He reminds you, securing his grip under your thighs as he carries you inside the house.

Your petulant pout demands satisfaction, and he acquiesces, dipping his head to yours in a quick kiss.

“Y’know,” he says, voice rumbling and low as everyone fixes up their plates in the kitchen. He sets you on the island counter, his hands spread just past your thighs, arms loosely caging you in.

He smells like summer— sugar and chlorine and salt and the tell-tale wisp of a cigarette. His hair is loose and wild, sheltering you from prying eyes as he rests his head against yours.

It hits him like a thunderclap and descends as quickly as revelation.

“I’d follow you into the sun.”

It’s not a declaration, but a simple fact.

Love.

He’d tell you someday, but not quite yet.

For now, he’ll watch your lips kick up in that adorable smile of yours, the kind that crinkles the corner of your eyes from the sheer amount of joy packed in it. Allowing himself to float on the thinnest of air just for a moment.

This summer, you’ve been his North Star, always there.

And he hopes you always will be.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt Pt. 2 | John Price x Reader

Summary: After the initial incident that caused your meeting, Johnny sets you and Price up on a date at a little diner nearby.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: can’t say much w/o spoilers but random men, ghost being moody, Johnny being overly friendly, working in customer service…

A/N: idk what happened something possessed me when I made this, it was supposed to be fluff but then it exploded. hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Weeks had passed after the initial incident, and your life had quickly changed.

You’d broken up with your toxic boyfriend, now wondering how you hadn’t seen it earlier, and why you hadn’t listened to all your friend's advice and thoughts on him. You’d moved out, blocked him on everything, and found a new apartment closer to your simple job as a barista. It was enough to keep the bills paid, for now. At least until you finally got out of college with your doctorate in nursing science.

Having been in college for nearly eight years now, and not living in the dorm (there were far too many incidents on campus for you to trust any sort of campus police, not to mention the generally shady system of coverups) made it a little bit harder.

Student loans were threatening to suffocate you, but for now, you would focus on one day to the next. All of this, the annoying days that drug on, or the hard times, would all be memories before you knew it, and it would be worth it. Or at least you hoped.

Today wasn’t one of those super slow-moving days where customers were ordering hyper-specific drinks or getting the suspiciously old lemon cakes, only to complain about how stale they were, as if you could do anything about it. No, today was relatively normal, customers minding their own business after ordering, coworkers having idle chatter.

“M’ taking my lunch break.”

You said to your close coworker, Laney. Her honey-brown eyes shifted over to you, and she nodded with a little smile.

“Don’t take too long, might miss some cute boys.”

She teased, knowing full well all of your opinions on relationships right now. You wanted to wait until you had a stable income and were out of school. She’d heard it only about a million times. You huffed a soft laugh, deft fingers untying the knot in your apron as you set it up on a hook, walking out to your car.

Lunch break was about 30 minutes, which was more than enough for you to drive to the nearest cheap restaurant and pick something up. Clicking your key button and heading towards where you heard the beep of your car, you opened the door, sliding into the worn leather. It wasn’t a new car, not by a long shot, but it was your old faithful, and it had served you well for nearly ten years in a row.

You started the car, muscle memory kicking in as you drove to that place right down the road from your work. It was past the chicken shop, a place you would refrain from visiting for a while after seeing some undercover cops staking out there one night.

You turned and pulled into the parking lot, glancing around before opening your door, only for the cold air to nip at your bare arms, when you decided to slip on the warm leathery jacket, with the fur on the inside. The one that the man, John, maybe, had given you. You’d lost the piece of paper with their numbers on it to the washing machine, but oh well. He didn’t look like the type to live around here, anyway, so it wasn’t like you were going to see him again.

Walking into the restaurant, you strode to the front, placing a quick little order and paying with your card, before choosing a small circular table in the corner to wait for your food. This place was usually quick. You idly scanned the guests. Two large men sitting together, chatting. An older woman and what was probably her husband seated with a younger man and woman. Maybe some sort of family double date? A nervous-looking teenager sitting alone, knee bouncing. An old, thin man seated at the far end, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Not unusual.

You pulled your phone out, idly scrolling through social media before your name was called, and you got up to go collect your food.

~

“You sure?”

“M’ tellin’ ya, it’s exactly what Gaz said she looked like.”

Simon glanced out at the girl his sergeant seemed so certain about. He wouldn’t lie, you did match the description pretty decently. Just as he opened his mouth to point anything out that fought against Johnny’s claim (just to spite him, obviously, not because he liked watching Soap get all frustrated and start rambling on for an hour on end), he noticed it.

“She’s wearin’ cap’s jacket.”

Johnny’s brows rose as he snuck another glance at you. You grabbed your tray of food, walking back to the small little corner where your bag was on the seat. You were wearing their captain’s jacket. The brown leather, the slight fuzz in the sides and insides, the buttoned pockets….he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“Hell’s bells, been wonderin’ where that thing went.”

Simon only gave a little grunt in reply, eyes narrowed on you before he glanced back at his food. He didn’t want to seem a creep. He already knew he was intimidating enough to the normal civilian, and one of his “I-want-to-eat-your-firstborn-child” glares (named by Johnny and Kyle) probably wasn’t helping.

“Sounds like Price’s found ‘imself a pretty birdie.”

Johnny lit up at those words, a devilish grin lighting his features, one that Simon usually only saw before he demolished buildings or people with explosives. He was already dreading it before it came out of his mouth.

“We shoul’ set ‘em up on a date.”

“No.”

“Don’ tell me it wouldn’ be a good idea. Might keep him from giving us so many sprints at training, yeah? Ya know he’s been overworkin’ us lately…”

The slight pause Simon took was all Soap needed to continue spewing his disarming, convincing words that usually always worked on his Lieutenant. His lips further curled into a grin as he went on.

“He’s been so tense lately, jus’ let us do this for ‘im, help him relax some…”

“Fine. Get on wit’ it.”

Simon finally relented, suddenly finding his food very interesting to look at as Johnny got up, striding over to you with a confidence one could only expect from the Scotsman.

He glanced up, trying to subtly watch as his sergeant approached you. You were on a call with someone, the phone held up to your ear by your shoulder while you ate your fries, the main entree of your order already gone. When Johnny walked up, you immediately sized him up.

Paranoid. Simon didn’t blame you, living on this end of town. The only reason he and the guys stayed here was for the cheap flats they could get when on leave for a few months. Price had a little house more up South, but never visited it much, letting it gather some dust.

You took the phone from your ear, muttering something to whoever was on the other end, and hanging up. You raised a brow at Johnny, who in turn gestured to your jacket and struck up a conversation. Johnny was trying to look unthreatening, he could tell. Sitting down so he wasn’t standing over you. A small, easygoing smile. Trying to make you laugh, and succeeding a bit.

Five minutes in, and you were seeming more comfortable with him. He wrote something down on a napkin from your table with a pen in his pocket, handing it to you, giving a teasing wink which you snorted at, and walking back over to his and Simon’s table with a huge smile.

“Wha’ did you just do?”

Simon asked, suspiciously eying Soap.

“I set our cap’ up with a date.”

He beamed, and Simon only sighed, knowing that Price wouldn’t take it too well to be sent on a date with a girl he’d only just met a few weeks ago. A girl that hadn’t texted him since. But maybe, just maybe, it would go decently.

~

That had been one of the strangest encounters in your life.

A Scottish man introduces himself as a friend of Price’s, saying something about working together at their jobs and telling you he recognized the jacket you were wearing. So much for not ever seeing John Price again, considering his friend had just set the two of you up, and given you the man’s number too. All the while the gruff-looking man had sat at Johnny’s table, watching the interaction.

It had made you more than a little nervous, but nothing had gone bad. The Scotsman had been friendly, and even funny, but not pushing too far.

And now you had a date on Friday night.

When you got back to work, off of lunch break, Laney helped you into your apron, tying the knot for you like she always did.

“You’re late, what took so long?”

She knew you weren’t usually ever late. Always on time, punctual, even. You managed your time properly.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

She grinned at that, nudging you with an elbow as you started taking orders.

“C’mon, spill it.”

And you did.

You began with the incident a few weeks ago, which she’d mostly already heard about, then told her all about the Scotsman and his friend, and finally the date on Friday. Right when you were about to finish the story, you felt your phone buzz, and you took it out to check it despite usually keeping it on Do Not Disturb. A text from an unknown number, but you knew who it was.

“Sorry for my muppets bothering you, they don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

You snorted in undignified laughter, replying while an older customer complained, mumbling something about ‘this generation and their phones’.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Johnny?”

“Yes, the one that barely talks in coherent English.”

“Aw, he was funny. I liked him.”

“Don’t go liking him too much. We apparently have a date on Friday.”

“I’ll see you there, then?”

“See you there.”

You finally silenced your phone, slipping it back into your pocket as you went back to work with a noticeable pep in your step and a warm, fuzzy smile you offered to customers.

Laney certainly noticed.

When your shift was over, ending quickly, she talked to you while walking out to the parking lot through the back exit.

“I can help you get ready for the date, if you want?”

She offered. You’d be stupid to deny, with the impeccable makeup and fashion sense that she had.

“Sure, I can swing by at 3. That’ll give you plenty of time.”

“You have any shifts the rest of the week?”

“Barely. Just little half-times I squeezed in between lecturers. Last year’s always the busiest.”

“See you Friday, then.”

You beamed at her, sliding into your car as she walked to your own.

“See you Friday.”

~

Some of the days passed in a blur, some dragged on slower than ever before.

Eventually, though, Friday rolled around, and you were sitting in your friend’s chair as she did your hair, your makeup light, but good. You were wearing a simple outfit, some clean jeans, and a cute brown sweater over your white shirt.

It was 4:30, and you had only thirty minutes to haul your ass out to the nice diner the both of you were meeting at for dinner.

“It’s fine, I need to go. Seriously.”

Laney gave you a look, but reluctantly started putting all her things away. You hugged her, mumbling thanks in her ear, before grabbing your purse that had all of your things in it and walking to the exit of her quaint home.

You drive to the diner, finding the parking lot to have the familiar old car you’d seen Price driving in the first place. You parked got out of the car, and walked into the diner, only for the server up front to inform you that you’d already been paid for, and she led you to a table where Price was seated.

He’d tried to dress nicely, you could tell. Beard combed and hair done, dressed in jeans and a comfortable-looking dress shirt. He gave you a small smile as you slid into the booth, and there was already a tray of crinkle-cut fries in the center.

“Hope you didn’ mind that I ordered, big fella like me needs a lotta food.”

He said with a chuckle, and you grinned.

“I don’t mind, trust me, my older brother devours food like no other.”

He smiled, a little bob of his head before his brow raised in mild curiosity.

“You got a brother?”

A nod.

“Yeah, name’s Gary. He’s quiet, but we love ‘im for it.”

“Me and the boys are just about brothers, wish they’d be quiet for once.”

You snorted at that, taking a sip of your water before the waitress came by and you ordered your meal. Price’s was the first to come out, he’d ordered a full English breakfast that the diner somehow served, despite it being around dinner time. Yours came out next, and you both idly chattered about your life, family, jobs (he was apparently military and off on leave right now, not that you minded), and whatnot.

When he was about more than halfway through his food, his phone began buzzing, and his face went serious as he held a small finger up to you with a slightly apologetic expression, taking the phone call.

He listened, and you simply continued eating your food, not minding. Everyone had to take important calls every now and then, sometimes it just wasn’t avoidable.

He gave a few gruff yes’ and no’s, before sighing as he replied for one last time into the phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

When he clicked off the call, shoving his phone into his pocket, he gave an apologetic look.

“It’s an emergency, can’t stay. ‘M sorry.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Is everything alright?”

You asked, and he nodded, face set in what looked like a grim determination. He called a waitress over, paying the bill before you both got up. He gave you a light pat on the shoulder as you both walked out, right before you went to your car.

“We could do this again, if you’d like. With no interruptions.”

“I’d like that.”

He breathed an audible sigh of relief at that.

“I’ll text you when I can.”

Before he began walking to his car, getting in. You walked to yours, opened up the driver’s side door, and slid in before you saw his jacket sitting on the passenger seat. Cursing to yourself, you grabbed it, having it in mind to go take it to him before he left.

Before you could move, though, a hand clasped over your mouth.

A cold prick of pain in the back of your neck. Liquid.

“Don’t scream.”

A voice warned as if you could make any noise at all with a hand over your mouth.

An overwhelming sense of heaviness overtook you, and your vision began swimming, before turning black as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What’re we getting ‘er for?”

“Bargaining chip.”

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@ashy-kit

@theoslove

@mayoforthewin

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 1 ◇ Part 2

Warnings: none except mentions of readers past traumas, mention of sexual objectification.

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt no comfort.

A/n: it's my first long-fic, please be nice :)

You're not used to being loved.

Your parents were always strict, hardly ever showing their affection, you didn't even have any close friends until you started working, where you found your best friend who showed you the blessings of a platonic love; but time passes and things happen, you had to move out of the town, leave your one true friend behind.

You are not used to love but especially romantic love, because all men did was see you as the object of their sexual desires, or maybe a good time-pass until a better one came along. Never as a person with feelings, never as a woman who loved them more than they loved her.

Sometimes you were too much, sometimes you weren't enough.

Too affectionate, too clingy, too dramatic, too loud. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not horny enough. You tried and tried to be more, to be less, to be loved, but despite your efforts, love remained elusive, even with women.

So, after years of hoping and yearning, you resigned yourself to a loveless existence.

It is not to say that you never felt happy; even if you didn’t have love, you had fun and drama, you had friends to drink with (accompanied by the ting of pain the day after), you had a lot of books to read (leaving a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you finished one), you had dates and clothes and all the good and beautiful things in life and you've learned to appreciate these fragments of happiness.

But sometimes you get lonely.

You are used to it at this point, the crushing weight in your chest at 11 PM is your daily ritual before you finally give in to sleep.

So when you see Osamu Miya’s warm smile as he greets you in his restaurant, you battle to stop your stupid crazed heart, which is currently trying to jump out of your mouth.

You are just a client, his smile doesn’t mean anything, he is only doing his job, and you have seen him give the same smile to the old ladies who only order a coffee and linger to chatter for more than two hours, too. He’s a professional, after all. You are a regular and all he wants is your money, the bastard.

(you completely ignore the fact that he remembers details about you that no one bothers to remember; like the colour of your jewellery, the names of the dogs in your shelter or how your eyeliner is a little glittered today.)

Still, you are glad you got to know him. If anything, at least he is a good friend to you, always listening to what you have to say and filling your stomach with delicious food.

“ ‘Evening, Y/N. The usual?” He asks. You nod as you sit on the corner of the counter, the same seat you sat on the first day you came in.

(Osamu puts a “Reserved” sign on it every day until your arrival, not letting anyone else sit on it because it’s yours. But you don’t need to know that.)

You chatter with Tsumoto, the part-timer student who works in his shop, about his new crush, giving him advice you wouldn’t listen to nor follow from somebody else, and just as you are about to tell him that he should just write love letters to his crush, the doorbell rings; a pretty girl with dark long hair and the body of a goddess walks in, looking around for something, or better, for someone.

“‘Samuuu!” she calls him just as he comes out of the kitchen, and his face lights up, his arms envelop her figure and her lips meet his cheeks in an affectionate gesture.

… what?

“Emi! How are you, doll?” his voice holds tenderness as he guides the girl to one of the seats available, “Have a seat, I'll fix something up for you.”

She is a beautiful girl indeed, her hair flutters in the air like sea waves and her deep green eyes would make any man weak in his knees. She graces him with a smile, her flawless teeth gleaming.“A coffee is enough ‘Samu, I’m going to meet a friend soon.”

“Roger that!” he nods, signaling to Tsumoto for the order, before returning his attention to her.

He looks happy, you don’t think he has ever looked at you with this much fondness, and you’ve never witnessed any girl embrace him, let alone kiss his cheek. Hell, you didn’t even know if he had any female friends who were not his friends’s girlfriends.

(You feel your vision blur and something clenches in your chest. You swallow it down.)

You have no idea what they are talking about, you are not listening, all you can think about is how much you feel so so stupid. You didn’t hope for anything, you tried not to hope for anything at all, but feelings are hard to get rid of, especially if you see the one causing these feelings every week.

You look at them talking like best friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time and the feeling of inadequacy gnaws at you. You wonder if you ever even stood a chance to begin with. You yearned to be someone close to Osamu, someone who could give him hugs and kisses easily, someone who knew everything about him; you yearned to be part of his inner circle, but now you feel utterly stupid and delusional. Of course, he would never see you in that light, his affection is reserved only for a pretty girl like her. Of course he wouldn’t even think about getting physical with you. What were you even thinking?

Of course, you can’t be part of his world.

Reblogs are really appreciated! - Part 2

[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

M.I.A.

Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

He's My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...

________

“Thanks,” you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.

Colter had called last night, asking if you’d be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young woman’s disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. You’d only been doing reward work for six months and you’d had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadn’t dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.

After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colter’s case, you were simply there to help and offer input.

Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.

It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and you’d heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.

“Fuck it,” you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.

“Hello, hello, qark,” answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.

“Your lunch went well I’m assuming?” He hummed. “Don’t leave me hanging. What’d you settle on?”

“He gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said we’d be well established and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.”

“That’s great, honey,” you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. “You haven’t heard from Colter at all, have you?”

“No…he never showed for lunch?” You sighed. “He could have been arrested.”

“Russell,” you chided.

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

“Shit what?” you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie. 

“Reenie said she hasn’t heard from him.” Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.

“I bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. I’ll go meet up with him there-”

“I’m coming out there,” said Russell. You rolled your eyes. “If he’s so sick he can’t pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl he’s looking for needs help too.”

“Fine,” you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. “He’s probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?”

“Yeah. He’s totally known for being flaky on jobs,” deadpanned Russell. “Just…I’m not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I’ll call you in ten, Russ.”

You’d frowned when you found Colter’s truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. “He’s not here, Russell.”

“Anything look off?” he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didn’t look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.

“There are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.”

“Okay…” You stood up and sighed. 

“Russell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So he’s walking around barefoot? That’s-”

“Not good,” sighed Russell. “Do you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?”

“Not that I can tell. I didn’t exactly do an inventory of his closet when…” Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. “He has a security camera.”

“Call Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. I’ll call back in a few once I’m on the road.”

“Drive safe, hun.” 

“You be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Two minutes later you were on Colter’s computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colter’s subscription was saved to once a day.

There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.

He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.

It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened. 

Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didn’t get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized he’d been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.

“Colter,” you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if he’d suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands. 

“Hey. You hear from Bobby at all?” You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques you’d learned in med school. 

You winced, Russell’s voice loud on the other end. “Y/N, answer me.”

“I watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-”

“Where are you?” You lifted your head, Russell growling. “Where?”

“In the air-”

“Leave right now, right fucking now,” he said. You grabbed the phone, Colter’s computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. “Are you out?”

“Yes, I’m in my car,” you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.

“Go back to that diner and I’ll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-”

“I know,” you sighed. “Don’t speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.”

“Diner. Two hours. Be there.”

Two Hours Later

You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Russ, I swear.” You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. “How are you holding up?”

Russell didn’t say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.

“Bobby’s been running the video through his programs but couldn’t ID any of the guys. They ditched Colter’s phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,” you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.

“Can we trace these guys phones?” You shook your head. 

“Bobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after they…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. “The team’s been trying to find who took Colter while I’ve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.”

“Smart girl.” Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. “But I have a problem with it.”

You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. “Me too. It doesn’t make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldn’t crack immediately.”

“Yup. Aren’t you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?” You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. “He got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.”

You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. “They’re looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-”

“Hey,” said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. “They took him because he found out something these people don’t want him to know and he didn’t realize it, not because of you. Let’s figure out what that is and then we’ll come up with a game plan.”

“Okay. Let’s figure this out.”

Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colter’s notebook with the name of the party over, Russell’s eyebrow quirking. “What?”

“These people don’t know who I am, otherwise I’d be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, let’s go to the party.” Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. “Isn’t the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Let’s go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.”

“Y/N.” Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. “It’s way too dangerous. Just because someone hasn’t come after you doesn’t mean they won’t. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-”

“This party,” you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. “The only research Colter did was on this girl and then there’s the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. “How’d he get the invitation in the first place?”

“It’s a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,” you said. “All I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.”

“Distraction…” Russell typed on Colter’s computer, biting his bottom lip. “Party’s at some older rich dude’s house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.”

“That’s not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.” Russell’s eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.

Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits

“I couldn’t figure it out earlier but there’s been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-”

“Duvel Industries,” you said, flipping through a paper. “Executive assistant. You think-”

“Poor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.” He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had “left” town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.

“How did no one figure this out before? It’s obvious what’s going on,” you said, Russell looking around. “Wait. You think…”

“Article said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “He’s got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldn’t just turn over what he found. He couldn’t trust them.”

“He should have called me,” said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. “I have a friend in the bureau. I could have…”

“So let’s call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.” For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“Alexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvel’s front door, he’s going to kill Colt and the girl if they aren’t already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.” 

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Screw the party. That was Colter’s plan. Ours needs to be more direct.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Duvel isn’t stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where he’s having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?” He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone. 

“Bobby, it’s Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.”

One Hour Later

“How do you know it’s this one?” you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.”

He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. “I thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay here,” he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk. 

“What are…” He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. “Russell.”

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

You smiled, running your hand over the vest. “How long have you had this?”

“I bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday you’d need it.” He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. “If you want to change your mind-”

“That building is massive. You can’t go in alone.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Am I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?”

Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard. 

“I always worry, qark. Whether you’re in there or out there.” He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. “You do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then I’m glad I’ve got her for a partner.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug. 

“But if shit goes down, you run.” You shrugged, Russell groaning. “Alright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobby’s going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so let’s get a move on.”

“Age before beauty,” you said. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

“Sorry.” He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.

“Stay low and quiet. Clear your corners and don’t hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?”

“Let’s do this.” Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is there’s only one vehicle and it’s a car which means most likely there’s four guys or less. Could be more but odds aren’t in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. It’s going to be hard to get in.” You pursed your lips. “What are you thinking?”

“If we each get one-” 

“Y/N,” Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. “Those guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.”

“Russell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldn’t risk Colter if I didn’t know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.” He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

“If he’s not going down, shoot him.” You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.

The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russell’s fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guard’s jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared. 

Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.

The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.

“It’s taking too long,” he whispered. “I can’t check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.”

“I can finish the hall. Do the other side. You’re faster without me,” you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Be safe. I’ll be right back.” Silently, he went the way you’d came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldn’t stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldn’t hesitate if you were in his shoes.

You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face. 

There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the man’s hand was moving fast towards his throat.

The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter who’s head hung low.

“Colter. Colter,” you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now. 

But something wasn’t right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.

“What’s-”

“He’s hypothermic,” you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. “We need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.”

“Y/N-”

“Russell, he’s not stable.” You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. “Call your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.”

“Got it,” he said, turning to leave. “I found Alexis.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. “She’s roughed up but she convinced these guys-”

“I’m sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?” He shook his head. “Then go do as I ask.”

Russell took off down the hall, Colter’s wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.

He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.

Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.

“S’okay, Colt. I got you. You’ll feel better real soon,” you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office you’d found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.

Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. “I-I can help.”

“You know what a space heater is?” She nodded quickly. “Find them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.”

She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater you’d saw in there, turning it to the max. 

You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colter’s leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt. 

“And you said my red jacket was ugly,” you teased, laying it over his shivering form. “Too visible if I recall.”

His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldn’t make out.

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.” You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. “You know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldn’t care less, remember?”

You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. “I’m going to splint your leg now.”

“So there was I,” you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. “In Paris with your brother of all people and he’s bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you don’t need to know about when he says, let’s take a few days trip to Africa. Let’s go to the desert. Now, I don’t know about you but if you’ve never been to the desert, it’s hot as fuck.”

You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.

“When you’re in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. It’s like you’re on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.”

Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now. 

“You ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when he’s out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.”

Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

“Okay,” you said, Colter’s head turning to the side. “Rest up for me big guy.”

You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. “What?”

“Russell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.” He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. “She’s not as bad as your brother but she’s dehydrated and cold.”

“No, I need to stay here in case Duvel’s guys show up. You take her-”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine but I’m tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-“

“Shaw.” He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him. 

“Please help him the best you can,” he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colter’s incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him. 

“Here you go,” you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. “I have one last idea. But it’ll hurt.”

He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. “I’ll be right back.”

You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. “Come on, bud. This should help.”

He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.

The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.

“Okay,” you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. “You’re going to be okay.”

The Next Evening

“Hey,” said Russell. You didn’t acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. “How’s Colter? He sleeping yet?”

“Oh, he’s annoying as hell. Little shit thinks he’ll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.”

You groaned, Russell humming. “He broke his damn leg. He isn’t driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.”

“I’m not the one you have to argue with.” You sighed, Russell’s long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. “You want to talk about it?”

Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.

“What’s the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?” he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. “He hurt-”

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

You looked over Russell’s shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.

“I don’t care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I just…” You inhaled shakily, gripping Russell’s hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. 

“He’s home with us. He’s safe,” said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. “I think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.”

“I should have protected him too,” you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. “You’re an older sibling. You understand.”

“Bullshit.” You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. “Your dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.”

“No, my dad said-”

“Was this before or after Owen’s fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?” Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. “Sweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?”

“It was hypo…” You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. “Jesus, Russ. Why did I think…”

“Because your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didn’t blame you so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. “He said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeral…he was still himself. He didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t.” Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. “So back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know they’re proud of you.”

“I killed a guy,” you scoffed.

“You saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-”

“Russell,” you groaned.

“And you saved my little brother’s life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.” Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. “No objection?”

“Fine. You wore me down. I did good,” you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.

“The words every man loves to hear from his girl,” he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. “You want to try sleeping?”

“In a minute. I want to check on him quick.”

“Don’t be long,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.

“Need some pain killers?” you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you. 

“No,” he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. “I overheard you and Russell.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. “Rest. I know that’s a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.”

“And you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you’re not.” You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. “But that’s what family does for each other.”

He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger. 

“When did you notice?”

“When you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.” You nodded, playing with the ring. “When’d he ask?”

“About a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.” His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Colter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know you’re going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You can’t be alone right now.”

“I will try to not complain too much,” he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it is all,” you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. “Need anything else?”

“I’m good.” You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“That red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.” You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile. 

“Goodnight, asshole.” You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.

“How’s the patient?” he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers. 

“He’s going to be alright.” 

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

“One step at a time, hun.” He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck. 

“Try to get some rest too, qark.” You closed your eyes, nodding once. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Russ.”

___________

[missannwinchester]

Good girl (Joel/Reader, nsfw)

Joel Miller/Reader

Rating: E

Summary: Joel’s friend invited him to his peaceful resort by the lake. His stay there turns out not as peaceful as Joel had hoped when it turns out he set his eyes on the only woman in the resort that should be off limits.

Warnings: super cheesy, all over the place, dad’s best friend, age difference, slightly rough sex, outdoor sex, nsfw, dirty talk

Joel drove through the forest, the asphalt road leading him straight to the resort. He took a sip of cold, gas station coffee, slowing down as the road became full of potholes. He could smell the fresh scent of pine trees as the wind flew into the car through open windows. Despite wearing sunglasses, Joel squinted each time the sun appeared between the trees. He was driving to his friend’s resort to spend one week in a place with small wooden cabins, a huge lake, boats for rent and no reception and he couldn’t be happier. He desperately needed vacation, and talking to another human being, who happened to be his old buddy, seemed like a dream.

He parked his car, drank the rest of the coffee and got out of the car, taking his black duffel bag from the backseat. He looked around and smiled at the trees swaying in the gentle wind and turned, facing the nearby lake, trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness of the sun dancing in its reflection. He stood like that for a while, inhaling the scent of the forest, before he decided to go check in. He headed for a cabin with a huge ‘reception desk’ banner and took his glasses off as soon as he went inside, standing face to face with the prettiest woman he saw in a while. Not that a hermit like him saw women often, but still.

“Hello,” she greeted him quite cheerfully, but she was clearly surprised to see him.

Joel smiled at her, almost automatically forgetting about his usually gruff demeanor towards new people.

“Hi,” he said, rather sheepishly.

If he had to speak from experience, clerks in places like that were usually awkward middle-aged men, scrawny college frat boys or older women who always flirted with him.

“Did you have a reservation?” She asked, suspecting he hadn’t.

“Uh, no,” he responded. “I was hoping you’d have free cabins by chance, I’d like to stay for a week,” he blurted out and looked into her bright, beautiful eyes. He didn’t mention that he had just talked to the owner of this place or that he was promised ‘the best cabin there was in the whole resort’.

“Lucky for you, there are two cabins available for one week, one right in front of us, by the parking lot and my personal favorite, hidden a little further behind the trees, right by the lake, but it’s got a con and it costs twice as much as the parking lot one,” she explained, not breaking eye contact, staring into his dark eyes with fascination.

This man was extremely handsome, well-built, very broad, and his eyes? His eyes were truly something else.

“I’ll take that personal favorite of yours,” he smiled and took out his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, forced to stop staring at her for a while.

She took a piece of paper and bit her lips when she reached for a pencil.

“Is anyone joining you?”

“No,” he said, leaning against the counter as she wrote something down.

“Breakfast included? Costs just extra 4 dollars per day.”

“I think so,” he retorted and she wrote something down again.

“So, when do you want to check out? Wednesday next week?”

“That’s right,” he nodded and she took a calculator and told him the price.

“I need to take a look at your ID,” she said and he complied, giving her the document.

“Okay, welcome to the resort, Joel. That’s the key, and here’s a map you can use to find your cabin or,” she said, sliding the map and key across the counter, “or I could just walk you there,” she suggested trying to sound breezy.

See, she had always been a good girl. Sunday school, do as she was told, good girl. She went to a good school, met a good man, got a good job, rented a good apartment, lived a good life. A good school she didn’t choose, with a good man she didn’t love and a good job that made her want to die in a good apartment that didn’t feel like home.

“It’s a little far, that’s all and… all the trees look kinda the same, but… well, you have a map,” she babbled, trying not to sound stupid.

“I’ve never been good with maps,” he smiled at her before he took the map and purposefully looked at it upside down, making her chuckle.

“I better walk you then,” she told him.

They walked for about five minutes through the forest, avoiding the small, crowded beach by the lake. The path was very narrow so Joel walked a few steps behind her. She could almost feel his eyes on her tight jeans shorts and she took a mental note to check out his bottom as well.

“How far is the cabin exactly?” Joel asked curiously.

“A little further,” she said. “You know, if you could read that map you’d know it shows an estimated time that you need to get from your cabin to all the important places? Like the breakfast lounge, boat rental or the reception desk,” she told him and slowed down a little, as the path became wider and now he could walk beside her.

“Interesting,” he admitted and eyed the map, quickly reading details about breakfast and how long it takes to go to the restaurant. “So, are you needed at the reception desk or can you show me around?”

“I can, no one's scheduled to arrive today. You were lucky I was even there when you showed up,” she told him and smiled at him playfully.

“Lucky indeed,” he smiled. “When you’re not there, what do you do all day?” He wondered.

“Well… that’s your cabin,” she announced and gestured to the pretty little house. “And as for what I do, I guess I mostly sit on a pier,” she laughed and Joel looked at the map.

“16 minutes that way,” he said, pointing his finger at the forest.

“Wow, you got better at it so fast,” she joked, but then she bit her lip hesitantly. “Actually, this one is not on the map,” she confessed quietly, as if she was telling a secret.

“Oh,” Joel sounded intrigued and waited for her to elaborate.

“We could go there if…” she sighed.

“If?” He prompted.

“If you promise me you’ll never go there without me. It’s mine and mine only,” she said quite sternly, looking at him with confidence.

“I promise, scout’s honor,” he responded without hesitation.

“Alright. Go, leave your bag, I’ll wait,” she promised and Joel went to the cabin and tossed his duffel bag inside carelessly and almost ran back to her.

His heart had been fluttering ever since he saw her, he figured it would stop after a while, but it was probably gonna be a longer while.

Fifteen minutes later they were standing on a pier. It was surrounded by water and reeds.

“Isn’t it awesome? We can see the lake, but the lake can’t see us,” she said with a grin. “I love this place,” she told him.

“I can see why,” he muttered, taking a deep breath, looking at the beautiful landscape surrounding him.

“Tourists never come by here, they stick to the other side of the lake, so it’s very peaceful,” she told him.

“And the view’s nice,” he said, looking straight at her and she smiled, suddenly a little shy.

“Yeah, especially when you actually look at the view,” she blurted out, pointing at the lake.

“Well I don’t know, I like looking over here,” he confessed, his body turned towards her. “You’d make any view better,” he whispered, but gave her space in case he read the signals wrong.

She turned, facing him with a smile dancing on her lips. She took a tiny step forward, getting closer to him, but not closing the gap between them, leaving him some room to decide what to do next. He also stepped forward, now standing in her personal space, their bodies almost touching.

“Does this line always work?” She wondered out loud, looking up at his face.

“Well, it seems to be working this time,” he responded and reached out to grab her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, his other hand touched her hair, which was as soft as he expected, tucking them behind her ear as she leaned into his touch making his boxers even tighter now than a second ago. “What about your line?”

“What do you mean?” She asked unsurely.

“About the secret pier?” He clarified. “About how no one can see us.”

Her free hand traveled up his chest to rest on his shoulder and she knew it would be a horrible time to mention that she had never done anything like this before, not on this pier, nor anywhere else. The only sex she had was with her lousy ex fiance and for that she should have got an award for the best actress in a live action short film because she always had to fake it. So here she was, having her very first summer fling with an older guy and she had never been so aroused in her whole life.

“Seems to be working this time,” she smiled.

Joel leaned down and kissed her, slowly but surely and she responded, parting her lips, letting his tongue slide in. He tasted like something sweet and vaguely familiar and she gasped softly as his tongue explored her mouth. His hands were on her back, pulling her close and hers were wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with hair at the back of his head. His lips left hers and she was disappointed for a second before she felt them on her neck.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” He asked, focusing his actions on her jawline.

He frowned when she tensed, grabbing his T-shirt, lightly pushing him away, but not letting him go. She told him her name.

Her grip on his T-shirt was quite strong considering her size and Joel could see how aroused she was. She pulled him towards her and kissed him deeply, dominating the kiss. He pushed his leg between hers, his hand on her ass, pulling her closer to him. She grinded against him and he hummed when he pressed his erection at her hip. She gasped into his mouth and pulled at the waistband of his jeans. She had never felt like this before, like she could come right there, dry humping him.

Joel unbuckled his belt and took off his jeans as she did the same. Her shorts fell on the pier and she felt a little self conscious. She tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling him into a kiss, his hand immediately found their way to her ass, squeezing it and slapping it very, very lightly, just enough to make it bounce. She sucked on his neck for a while before she pushed his boxers down and felt his fingers sliding under the soft material of her panties, pushing them down her smooth legs. He brushed his finger against her wet folds, sliding it in slowly, his thumb on her clit. He finger fucked her slowly, adding another digit while kissing her shoulder. She moaned at the sensation and slid her hands under his T-shirt, exploring his back. She was on the edge, waiting for him to just lightly, lightly push her.

“Hop up?” He suggested, reading from her uncertain expression that she might have some doubts.

“Um… up… you mean…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you ride me, sweetheart,” he promised and she nodded, wrapping her hands around his neck, waiting for him to pick her up.

When he did, she squeezed him with her legs, kissing him and sucking on his lip. She noticed that he was insanely strong, it seemed like she didn’t weigh anything to him. One of his arms snuck under her leg and pushed her a little higher and the other positioned his cock right at her entrance. He supported her butt lightly, as she slowly lowered herself on his thick shaft. Her walls stretched around him and she let out a quiet moan when she heard him groan. She felt his eyes on her face and she looked at him, rolling her hips, making him gasp into her face. Encouraged by him, she started riding his cock, squeezing him tightly with her thighs. He dug his fingers into her hips, almost painfully as he grunted when she lowered herself again, but his touch quickly softened again. He was helping her up and down, but he had to stop himself from straight up ramming her down on him.

“You can hold me like before,” she whispered. “I like how strong you are,�� she told him and she felt his fingers digging into her flesh greedily and she heard a low growl as he closed his eyes to prevent them from rolling back. 

“You like it rough?” He guessed and she realized she does actually like it rough. “Fuck, you’re so damn sexy, he growled.”

His confession gave her a boost of confidence that she needed, their pace was now relentless, the soft moans she made were driving him crazy, he felt like he could explode any second. He knew she was close, because her whimpers were becoming louder with each roll of his hips. She was gripping his T-shirt tightly, holding onto him with shaky arms and she wondered how he could do it, standing so straight up. He broke the sloppy kiss and licked the side of her neck, then nibbled on it softly. She moaned, a little ashamed of herself as she had never actually moaned during sex before. Without thinking, Joel brushed his teeth against her skin, scratching it.

“Fuck, sorry,” he apologized quickly when her legs jerked around him, knowing it must have hurt and he leaned to to kiss that spot better, but she whimpered loudly and dug her fingernails into the back of his neck, making him think that he misread her reaction.

“Did you like it?” He asked, already sure what the answer would be when he felt her teeth brush against his skin shyly, not enough to even leave a mark.

He guessed it might have been her first time and he hummed, trying to encourage her to use her teeth.

“Yeah,” she moaned quietly in response and Joel felt her timidity.

He noticed that her confidence decreased the moment she took her pants off, but he didn’t mind, knowing that if this went well he would have more time to rock her world again during his stay.

“It’s okay sweetie, I like it too,” he assured her and did it again, letting his teeth leave a mark on her shoulder. “Do you like it when I talk?”

“I do,” she admitted, not slowing down.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned and found her lips and his tongue slid in to start a sloppy kiss.

She started panting and Joel leaned down again to bite and suck on her neck and the second his teeth pinched her neck she came with him buried deep inside her. Her walls pulsed around him and he came too, rolling his hips into her one last time. He held her through her orgasm as he focused on not letting his knees give out as he panted loudly. She stopped squeezing him and let go of his T-shirt as she hummed contently, kissing him on the neck, on the hickey she had left on his soft skin. He helped her off his cock and he carefully put her back on the pier. He kissed her softly, his tongue gently brushed her lip. She smiled and pulled her shirt down to make it a little longer. She looked around in the search for her underwear. Joel got the hint and found his boxers while she was busy putting on her shorts. He winked at her with a smile while putting on jeans and she smiled back, comforted by his face expression.

“It was… very nice to meet you, Joel,” she said.

“My pleasure,” he muttered under his breath.

He came to face her again and his eyes traveled down her neck where she had a red mark left by his teeth.

“Well, it seems like a good start of a mindblowing week,” he whispered hopefully and she looked at him finally, nodding her head. “We could do this again tomorrow.”

“You know where to find me,” she reminded him with a smile.

“Will you walk me to my cabin?” He asked.

“Totally,” she said and started walking awkwardly towards the forest.

It all happened so fast, she wasn’t even sure if it was real. 

“Actually, I was… I was hoping to meet the guy who owns the place, would you tell him I checked in when he comes back?” Joel asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded, just then thinking of her father. “Can you maybe not mention to him the…”

“The warm welcome?” He chuckled. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’m actually kind of supposed to sit at the reception desk all the time,” she confessed. “If anyone asks, you got to your cabin all by yourself.”

“Sure thing,” he promised, not thinking much about it.

He leaned down and grabbed her butt. He gave it a firm squeeze and pushed her forward a little, and taking advantage of her initial shock, he kissed her passionately.

“I’ll find you tomorrow,” he promised and let her go, walking slowly towards the cabin.

“You better,” she muttered and bit her lip as she tilted her head, looking at his ass as he walked through the long grass.

A couple of hours later, she was sitting behind the reception desk, reading one of the old books she had found in one of the drawers. She turned the page, bored out of her mind and she glanced at her phone to see what time it was. She sighed loudly and threw the book at the counter. She got up from her seat and walked up to the window. She sighed one more time and pressed her forehead against the cold glass. Her dad was supposed to be at the resort in the evening and even though he hadn’t precised when, she was getting impatient. The reception was horrible so there was no use in even trying to call him. She locked up and headed towards the lake. The sun was setting, painting beautiful colors in the sky. She took her shoes off and walked into the lake, trying to ignore the screaming children who were running next to her. The water was quite cold, so she stopped after just a few steps, wiggling her toes in the sand. She could no longer see the sun as it hid behind the trees, but she enjoyed the colors dancing in the water. Despite the commotion, she heard a car engine and she turned her head to see her father’s truck on the rickety road. She walked out of the water slowly and picked up her shoes, walking lazily towards the parking lot. She saw her dad's silhouette from afar, she guessed he was holding something in his hand, probably his phone. He waved at someone and she heard his laugh. She smiled, glad that after all those years her dad was still excited to run the resort. The staff loved him and it was nice to watch as he joked around with them. Trying not to step on anything sharp barefoot, she walked slowly and carefully, avoiding the pine cones, but she was already right next to the parking lot. Involuntarily, her gaze followed her dad and that’s when she saw something strange. Her dad was hugging… Joel. Her dad was hugging Joel. She stopped and blinked a few times. Sure, she saw that guy one time, but she was certain that was him.

“You finally showed up man,” she heard her dad’s cheerful voice. “That calls for a celebration!”

“Definitely!” He responded and the men finally let go of each other. “I brought booze!” He said, handing his friend a paper bag.

“Let’s get you drunk like that time in Wichita!” Her dad cheered.

“I don’t remember ever being in Wichita,” Joel protested with a frown.

He turned around, motioning Joel to come with him and that’s when he saw his daughter and he greeted her with a smile.

“Hey,” he started, walking up to her, “that’s my old friend Joel, I met him way before I met you,” he laughed and she hoped she managed to hide how horrified she was.

She quickly glanced at Joel and for a second, his eyes met hers and he gulped, then, as if nothing happened he put a perfect poker face on.

“Joel, you must have met my daughter,” he said proudly. “Did she show you around?”

“She gave me a map,” Joel said quickly, faking a smile.

“That’s my girl!” His friend laughed. “Let’s go grab a bite, tomorrow I’m gonna take you fishing, Joel! See, we have this secret pier, it’s not on the map…”

The end

Thank you for reading :)

~Ann

[1eoness]

CHANGE.

cw: re4remake leon... just a lil more rude than usual. covers very sensitive topics: theft and surrogate prostitution (not mentioned), SUPERRR NOT CANON.

nsfw cw: DUBCON i think? (always practice safe and consensual sex) (slight-enemy smut idfk) dom!re4remake leon kennedy x sub! fem/afab-reader. size kink, creampie?? spit kink?? squirting?? mild degradation, pet names, feminine terms... straight up porn tbh i dont even know BRUHH WTFI DONT EVEN KNOW THE THINGS I WRITE

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

synopsis :

your job is simple. as long as you exploit and delude the men at the top of the social pyramid, ada sponsored you with her safety and training. though, your naivete made it easy for ada to convince you that you weren't just some dirty pawn stationed in a particular estate—which happens to be leon's next mission area.

when he encounters you to perform your arrest, leon prays to any god up there that he has the patience not to mess you over for turning into the person you've become today.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿

"— just listen to me, damn it!" leon scolded as he tugged onto the metal that strung your cuffed wrists together, cutting your retorts off with your abrupt grit of pain. your insistence of denying his chances without hearing him out made you more irritable than you already were. "you have no idea what you're carrying. you're gonna start a fucking epidemic if you take that anywhere near ada, you understand?"

it was understandable. you were carrying a formula. some unethical, potent 'opium' derived from a variant of the t-virus. freshly baked by some ex-umbrella geeks, it was marketed to be an effective drug, planned to be distributed to some sort of paramilitary in spain to modify their strength to inexplicable heights (which was proved to be false, yet some arrogant virologists insisted it had potential, so unethical 'scientists' wanted to get their hands on improving it). that's all you know about it, anyway.

leon's true nature behind his words rooted from the fact that he was fucking worried for you and it's not only because of the position that ada put you in right now. that enigmatic woman, treating you like some guinea pig and you couldn't even see it. it surprised leon that you were even alive.

leon knew you way before ada discovered you in that dark junction, before you dropped out of police academy without a word and went back to your old ways of 'getting through life'.

leon was your role model. he was the first one to make friends with you while you stood 'incompetent' in that academy.

but people dug their eyes in you because of your history. all it takes is a few facebook searches and some names for the other fellow cadets to define you using your past. and when the awareness rose to leon, he was the first one to defend you.

the eidetic memory of you; you were sat on a hall bench with his jacket hung loosely over your dropping shoulders, gripping an unopened water bottle that turned lukewarm. your fingers felt numb from the tremors of anxiety, and the broodingly saddened look in your eyes.

he was knelt in front of his dear friend, trying to reassure you that people can change, and you were already making those efforts. his thumbs held your palms when with a serious tone, encouraged you into promising him that you will never change; because you are a sweet girl and you never deserved to be shamed for something you thought was your survival. within this promise, he also promised you that as long as you kept your self-faith you will never go back to what you hated being. you should've seen how genuine his smile look when you chuckled sheepishly, the flush on your cheeks earning a double reasoning.

and now, it pained him more to realize that he regrets not making another promise, one he held back from saying that night. don't leave him.

a very selfish, unwarranted yet passionate part of him believes that you'd been so cruel to him, abandoning him like that. and now you want to leave again?

now you're being reprimanded by the cop who you looked at like he was a hero.

where was the bright cadet in those eyes, the one that looked up to him?

and it was just great of you to articulate further on how much he underestimated your stubbornness."i'm slowing you down. if it's not me (who will escort the sample), it's gonna be ada. you thought she was a one-man job? that you can somehow negotiate with her because you guys fucked once? my god, have you ever changed?-" out of being so naive? but the words don't follow because he knows you were going to say it.

leon's hand slid from your back to grip harshly at the back collar of your shirt, lifting your chest up from the table abruptly. he locked eyes with you, hidden tension bubbling the air like odorless toxins. he scoffs, and his low voice turned deliberate as he tried to spell the irony out for you. "ada. doesn't. work with people. she uses them, and you're not some 'special exception'."

and it's true, he knows it all too well..

"she uses... people like you." you were quick to correct him indignantly with a struggling breath. leon knew nothing about you and ada. ada was like a big sister to you. she taught you what you couldn't learn at police academy. she understood where you came from, and she knows the lowest moments in your life. but leon knew all of that too, didn't he?

"you know why?"

he scoffs. "enlighten me." and there was a subtle increase of tightness in his grip, eyes narrowing down at your bent-over body in anticipation.

"'cause you're a fuck up, kennedy."

upon hearing your quips, he thought maybe he should add a small noise of pain to it, because he flushed you further against the surface with a force that hinted irritation. he had enough of this pointless hissing. "listen, y'little bitch..." he gruffed with the mere frustration surging his voice. he's probably never addressed a woman like that, but oh, how people can shift within the span of their emotion. "you have the sample, now tell me where it is. and if you have it, then you know what to do."

leon wasn't confident that you had the item on you, knowing ada was most likely using you as a decoy. he didn't want to hurt you. even if you've looked like you've changed; to him, you haven't..

of course you were holding the "formula", leon was just dumb enough to think you actually had it on you. your eyes fluttered before you laughed emptily in heavy breaths, peeking over your shoulder whilst he did not let up on you. your torso was starting to fucking hurt. but so was your pride. "then come get it, rookie." you baited.

you ignited an internal burn he didn't even know he had. one that reached the peak of its abrasion.

"..fuck you." he growled inaudibly before you yelped, feet off the ground. and fuck ada, too.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿

if you were gonna keep acting like a brat, he was going to fuck you like one.

his hand came behind your head, locking your hair in a tight grip while you felt his tongue glide against yours in a messy kiss. an overwhelming amount of affectionate frustration surged as he propped you up firmer on that desk. he ate your whines as he tired your damp mouth out, the rising feeling of grudge-rooted sexual frustration pining somewhere inside him hotly.

"why do you hate me so much, mmm?" he gasped quietly for a breath, his hand letting go of your hair and holding both sides of your hips, hastily pulling your pants up mid-thigh. he needed to be inside you, he just needed it so bad..

"cause you're .. hhah.. y-you've become too cocky f'your own good, kennedy-" leon scoffs at the sight of you drooled up with the trails of mixed saliva. you're sure that's not you? you could've fooled him, you were fucking sopping—trails of your essence sticking to your underwear. it made him moan low in desperation. he wanted to lick it all up. "is that right.." he muttered with utter lack of amusement as his cold thumb glided over your fluids absentmindedly, spreading one fold apart slightly to get a better look. his eyes soften, breath hitching knowing it's gonna feel so good inside you.

"d-definitely too cocky!-" you insisted with a contrast whine that emitted from your sweet voice, expecting him to start off with letting you adjust to his tip first. but you're hopeless for thinking leon would ever go soft on you just because you only remember the "naive" version of him years ago. people change, right?

you were suddenly squirming when you felt him fill and thrust into you thickly, humbling your little cunny as it pulsated. dumb little bunny, leon thinks to himself, watching you start to fluster and retort weakly beneath him with your ankles on his shoulders.

his hand comes up to your head, smacking your cheek swiftly. "shut up. shut the fuck up." he growls, eyes narrowing mildly, holding your cheeks with one hand as he pried your little mouth open. his thoughts were so guiltily dirty, wondering how cute your throat would look filled with his cock. he'll have to try another time, though, wouldn't he? for now his ring and middle finger deliberately slide into your tongue, savoring the minor 'hhnnn' that lolled out of your sticky tongue as your eyes peered up at him glassily.

the words 'fuck me' were written all over your eyes when his gaze locks down to yours. and could he resist such a pretty baby?- why were you so pretty?

it's a shame that you made so much effort to treat him indifferently, calling him by his last name and all...

your vision felt cloudy given that you were full of leon. but you catch glimpse of the way he smirks at himself before he leans down much closer to your face, folding your legs over and not giving a fuck if it hurts. the simple shift in angle had you crying out as his tip grazed over the right spots.

he spits a string of saliva down into your forced-open mouth, hoping it would furtherly aid in getting you to shut up over something so trivial. "so fucking dirty..." his fingers gently traced your bottom lip while he whispers with mock-disgust, yet it's laced with affection- a twisted pair of feelings that has him needing you at incalculable rates.

his hands come down to the exposed flesh of your hips, fingers dipping into your skin as he holds you still on his girth. it felt even better when you could feel his bulging size rub up inside you hastily— the way he was fucking you fervently and not letting you get away. you're never fucking leaving his sight, or his mind.

"h-how's this for.. uhh-..nngh.. being cocky? huh?" he groaned roughly after stammering with the embers of his frustration. leon's frustrated that he can't speak without stammering, so he takes it out on you with punishing thrusts that have you sobbing louder, mending his ego by ruining yours. he's stripping your pride away with each push into your sweet spots.

you gave in, vulnerable as you started to blabber from the way you were getting your breath knocked up. "hnggghh.... ahh!-.. l-leon!~ n-not there!-"

"there it is.." he mutters to himself sweetly mid-fucking-you-full. you're finally talking to him properly, how cute.. "more, baby?" he taunts with a struggling moan but he doesn't let you react; the only reaction he wants is you reducing beneath him, proving it by his fingers bruising your skin as he rammed into you in a desperate pace. "ngghh uhh.. fuck-" he whines loudly, your hole squelching uncontrollably as he fucks the juices out of you with every sweet drag of his sensitive shaft.

you turn him so soft he hates you for it.. he has such a soft spot for you, doesn't he?

"fuuck, this pussy's.. so good.." his eyes were half-lidded, moaning adorably before whining about the fact that he's about to spill a load inside you. "f-fuck, 'so good, please- mnnnnghh- aahh!~" his voice wavered, still driving his cock into you as he breaks through his limits and makes himself whimper gently, tears softening his eyes.

oh but his poor baby, creaming around his shaft so quickly and relentlessly, only to continue being rutted into like a little toy ♡. he coats your sweet little hole with his cum, flooding and painting it all over as his tip poured deep inside of you with a thick, milky warmth that pooled on the varnished wood.

you weren't even speaking anymore, your words melting on your tongue. he doesn't understand a damn thing you're saying but he doesn't need you to speak, he just needs you to feel good.

"fuck... uhhhnn!~.. fuck me, please, baby.." he blathers before he found himself whining at the way your cunt pulsates, eyes teasing at you subtly while he holds your cheeks together in his domineering hand. he doesn't even pull out much, just shoving and grinding his girth into your creamed-up cunny and making you endure the crushing pleasure. his hands scramble to push against the back of your thighs, folding them to let him fully fill up into your already deflowered, milky vulva.

"n-no, g'nna- leon!" your mind goes into total shudder as your back arched, having him hold your hips in place as you started to gush all over his stuffy girth.

"ohh, mhmm.. that's it, sweet girl.." leon knows you feel good, seeing you cry flusteredly while he still thrusted in you to lengthen the feeling of you cumming. he tore at your pride, pulling out the vulnerable version of yourself he hasn't seen in a long time. especially when you reach up for him like you wanted a hug. that did it for him.

he leans down to pick you up, your legs dangle tiredly around his waist. he's sorry to whoever's bed it was that he laid you down on. he whimpered softly into the fabric of your shoulder while trying to regain his stability. you could faintly feel him pepper tame, short kisses on it mindlessly.

he nuzzles into your skin. "you wanna be a good girl f'me?" he murmurs into your neck breathily.

"mhmm.."

"then get on your knees." leon lets go from holding you—letting you scramble onto all fours.

he stuffs himself back inside your sensitive hole like he's aching for it, making you wail with struggle. with your legs aimlessly sprawled on either side of him, he makes sure you don't stray from him by holding your hips again. the flesh spilling between his fingers as he pulls you closer like he's scared you'll run away. his hips move irrationally, wanting to make sure he's hitting it good, all the right spots again, just for his baby. he's so sensitive it starts to throb, masochistic urges as he overstimulates himself ceaselessly.

"hhhngh... you can't just.. come around- and then leave- like it's nothing!-" leon babbled whiningly between his forceful thrusts, his pace increasing with incessant speed. you could feel his fingers nimbly moving through your scalp, leon's hand holding the back of your head down onto the fluff surface where your cute little cries of pleasure went in vain.

you couldn't take it but leon made you, his constant rutting inside you even after cumming doesn't pause. he's suffocating this way but he doesn't even care. he's so loud behind you, fucking into your messy cunt like it hurts real good.

his attention is divulged slightly when he sees a little glow on the pocket of your shirt. how didn't he spot that? his hand snakes over your breast, fingertips swiftly snagging the high-tech vial and shoving it somewhere in his remaining clothing.

you yelped. ada was going to kill you. "h-hey!-" he notices you trying to look behind you but his hand is quicker, turning your head forwards with a gentle grip of his hand. he muffled your face into the sheets with the force of his hand holding your head, and he snaps his hips faster just to have you all adorable and crying for him again. "y'c-can't take tha-" oh, but what were you going to do about it?

he starts deliberately making up mistranslations of what you wanted to say. "mm, what's that, sweet girl? you want more?... oh, i know, baby, oh shh.. i got'chu, you're so good, huh? uhhuh.." he encouraged amidst fucking you back into a state of distraction, a hazy smile to himself while he considers his mission accomplished.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Two: Settling is Subjective

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: It's only the second day in Los Alamos and while your husband is trying on being part of the uniformed men, you track down the suspicious phone call and unfortunately end up with a tidbit of information that is upsetting.

Word Count: ~4,608

Warnings: Light smut (fingering), age gap, period stereotypical gender roles, mentions of infidelity, marital angst, and drunkenness

See previous for all disclaimers, this is NOT based completely on real life historical accuracy and is essentially fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer.

Part One here

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple

Thanks to everyone who has liked so far. If you would like to be part of the tag list, drop a comment and I'll add you!

When you awoke from a deep slumber the next morning, the bright sunlight filtering in from the open curtained window was beaming you right in the eyeballs, forcing you to squint and shield your face before sitting up and seeing the empty wrinkled sheet space beside you indicating that Robert had already left early. You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed with a groan from vaginal soreness of last night's escapade and went across the hall to use the bathroom and clean up some, dressing and applying the usual makeup and brushing out your tangled hair, as well as clean out the bathtub. After a light breakfast in the kitchen consisting of two slices of buttered toast with jam and a glass of milk, you went back to the bedroom to pluck up the leftover discarded clothes and shoes still littering the floor. You put Robert's belt into the closet with his shoes and your heels, and took the rest to the bathroom along with the sheets you tugged off the bed, bringing it all into the bathroom sink to thoroughly scrub at the stains in the linens and the memory of last night was making you smile despite your misgivings.

You went out to clip the washed fabrics up onto the clothesline you had established yesterday in the yard and as your fingers fumbled with the wooden clothespins, the warm airy breeze was making the soaking wet fabrics spray a light mist into your face when you suddenly heard a sharp woman's voice behind you, startling your concentration.

"Well, don't you have the easiest job in the whole world."

You whipped around to see one of the scientist's wifes, her hair up in a bun and arms crossed defensively against her chest as she surveyed your laundry.

"May I help you?" you asked her, not pleased that she had just decided to walk right onto the property without permission or invitation. Was that going to be the norm around here, a complete lack of respect for privacy?

The woman shifted, narrowing her eyes briefly before glancing away and back to you.

"You know what I'm talking about," she said knowingly with unnecessary snippiness to her voice and you felt a frown creasing your forehead.

"No, I'm afraid I actually do not. Why are you here?"

She smiled, but it was really a grimace more than anything else with the way she bared her teeth.

"You're married to Dr. Robert fucking Oppenheimer," she stated and you blinked, stunned at her vulgarity.

"Excuse me? I am, indeed, but what is that to you?"

But she had already turned away and began walking out of the yard down the pathway and you shook your head, utterly perplexed and borderline insulted, but you figured it wasn't worth getting into a confrontational fight over when you weren't even sure what exactly her issue was. You hoped that this wasn't a sign that the welcoming nature of the other wives could somehow be diminishing, and you were at risk of bizarrely becoming an outsider among everybody else here in this pop-up town just because of Robert's higher status. You had expected to be respected for being Dr. Oppenheimer's wife at the very least, but you did not want to be seen as pompously prestigious to foster any sort of jealousy or spite, and more to find common ground in general with these other women for they were in the same proverbial ship here. If that lady had a bone to pick because of your husband, then that was her problem, not yours.

The next time you saw Robert was when you went on a self-guided tour of the town, taking in the army's quarters, main mess hall, many outbuildings, offices, and schoolhouse still in construction. You were walking towards the army offices when he came bursting out a door, leading the way of a small pack of men, including friend Isidor Rabi and General Groves himself. You bit back a smile at how dwarfed in size Robert appeared when compared to those taller, bulkier men and your eyebrows bolted upward in surprise upon seeing his own tightly conforming uniform. The other men started to file inside another building and you approached him with a quirked eyebrow.

"You enlisted?" you asked and he gave a vigorous nod.

"They think it would be prudent for all of us civilian men to join the Army efforts and I could be of such importance," he replied sincerely, but you saw through his posturing.

"Do you want to or is the General making you?"

He didn't answer and you guessed the latter as he glanced away and then settled back to you.

"Come here for a minute," he muttered, pulling you aside and whisking you in a quick movement inside the building and into a small empty office, and you started to speak in confusion, but he clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking the door closed behind him. You stared as he slowly lowered his palm and you whispered, feeling as though something were wrong.

"What is this about?"

Wordlessly, he traced a finger along the waistband of your skirt and raised his eyebrows flirtatiously, creasing his forehead with fine age lines.

"What do you think?" he murmured and you knew he meant his attire.

"I kind of find it rather handsome, I suppose," you answered with a smirk and smoothing down his front breast of the stiff dark mossy green fabric, catching your fingertips on the brass buttons and playfully tugging at the buckle around his waist. His eyes widened with a gleam and he yanked your skirt out towards him to thrust an arm down into your panties, anxious to feel you. Gasping, you clutched at his shoulders and went in to kiss him as he pressed a single finger to your slit, squirming past the moist fleshy opening and you gave a light moan of delight as he felt your clit.

"How are you so wet already?" he mumbled into your ear and you gave a breathy laugh, realizing how aroused you were indeed getting.

"Maybe there's just something about a uniformed man," you whispered back to his ear and he gave a fast kiss on your lips while probing in further, expanding his reach with two fingers and letting your fluids naturally lubricate his easy efforts in.

"Sir, we've got a head count of eighteen, nineteen once Dr. Oppenheimer joins us..."

You both froze at a man's voice just outside the door and your heart began to pick up pace in fear, as though what you and Robert were doing was illegally incriminating, even though he was only your husband after all, but if someone discovered you hiding out with the scientific director of the Manhattan Project in the process of giving you a handjob in the middle of a workday, that wouldn't be a good look of professionalism at all, especially if (God forbid) Groves found out about it. But Robert wasn't spooked too easily and he hit that sweet spot inside you, causing you to whimper like a puppy from the breaching orgasm, clinging onto his uniform as though your life depended on it.

"Shh..." He placed his free hand to your lips and your back arched with pleasure, relishing the feel of his fingers up in your walls.

"Rob-"

He cut you off, forcing the back of your head forward to press your face against his shoulder and you lightly bit into the uniform, preventing an embarrassing audible noise from alerting the entire building.

"That didn't take very long," he observed in a whisper as you wound down from the peaking high of the quick orgasm and gasped when close footsteps commenced right outside. Robert pulled his hand slick with your cum out and wiped it clean with a handkerchief from his pocket before quickly detaching from you and swinging the door wide open.

"Wait!" you hissed, snatching his coattails as he began to move out the door and he stopped, spinning around with intensity.

"Duty calls," he told you sternly and you shook your head, wetting your lips.

"No, I know that, but I wanted to ask about that phone call - if the phone call, if you-"

"It was taken care of," he replied crisply, not quite looking at you (giving a flash of skepticism and doubt) but then he put on a yearning glance that flickered darkly downward and that distracted you, triggering another ripple of arousal shooting through your core, proving the fact that your libido was in full force today. You hated to see Robert leave, but men were approaching and he exited to join them. You briskly hitched up your panties and skirt before taking a single calming breath and walking out as though nothing provocative had just occurred. The men were filing out into the road and getting in various militarized vehicles while Groves was barking to Robert about scouting out more acreage. You pretended to ignore them, making distance, but unfortunately there was one person who lagging behind long enough to take notice of you hurrying out the side door and that was Officer Nichols. You nodded politely and told him "good afternoon" but it was perhaps too falsely cheery because his eyes behind his round glasses narrowed and the smile he gave you was stretched in suspicion. You moved fast down the sidewalk, not daring a glance backwards, and made your way back home.

The rest of day passed slowly and you occupied yourself with finishing up organizing the house and shelving Robert's many books while trying not to feel the stifling housewife effect, but more so than that was you couldn't shake a nagging persistence related to that phone call and so, around five o'clock, you marched into the main office where the secretary gave you a look of recognition as she put down the phone.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Oppenheimer. Are you looking for your husband?"

Her tone made you almost want to cringe as you realized the fact that she was older than you, making you feel as though you probably looked less like a marital partner and more like a mistress.

"Actually, I was wondering about a phone call received sometime yesterday for said husband?"

The secretary pursed her lips and that micro action told you she knew about it.

"I'm afraid all phone calls going in and out are classified information that you do not have access to unless you are given override."

"Well, is there someone else I can talk to about this?"

"It would be unwise to involve anyone else besides me," she replied shortly and you felt a bit annoyed that she was taking this job of being "gatekeeper to Los Alamos" seriously, even though it was indeed her job. You bent over the desk, getting closer and clasping your hands calmly together, speaking with a pleading smile as you glanced to her own wedding ring.

"Please, as one wife to another, how about just a little disclosure between you and me? You must have overheard or took the call...?"

She seemed nervous and blinked a few times before shaking her head and you leaned back, disappointed.

"So how are you settling in? Is there anything I can get for you?" she suddenly asked in a change of tone and you sighed, realizing this was getting nowhere.

"I'm doing fine, thank you. I should start thinking about cooking up a meal for dinner in fact."

"Need a recipe? I swear by this brown sugar meatloaf," she said, raising her eyebrows knowingly as if giving you vital information.

"Oh, alright. Sure," you replied in surprise, even though you already knew how to cook meatloaf and did it many times before, but she grabbed a notepad, scribbling down something with a black ballpoint pen on the top slip of paper before handing it to you folded up in a creased square.

"Enjoy," she said dryly and you stepped away, feeling a bit confused, but you accepted it and tucked it into your purse, giving her a forced smile and walking away, wondering if you might have just been handed something that wasn't pertaining to meatloaf.

When you were in the secluded space of the bedroom at home, you took it out and unfolded it, the lined paper crinkling in your grasp as you read a hastily jotted message.

"Jean, I just can't get up and leave right now, you know that. Stay where you are and don't come looking, don't converse and write to anyone about me. I promise this will be only temporary. What? Yes, of course I still love and miss you, I do."

You crunched the note in your hands and without thinking much further about it, promptly burned it up in the bathroom trashcan with the flame from your cigarette lighter, letting it become mere ashes sprinkling the bottom. Kudos to that secretary with attentive ears and a keen memory, but the last you needed was someone finding out about this. God, was anyone else aware of what he said? Teary, you turned away, catching your upset reflection in the mirror and even the light layer of makeup couldn't cover your exhaustion and frustration, making you appear older than you felt.

"It was taken care of."

He had presumably called her this morning to tell her he missed her already. And he still loved her?

You didn't have a problem with him associating with Jean in a platonic sense if you happened to be back in Berkeley, but of course that was not what this was about. Robert was unfortunately turning out to be one of those men who just couldn't settle down and you supposed you shouldn't be too surprised given his pattern of womanizing, but it was much worse and serious in this location where stakes were very high, so like an unwanted wild rose growing out of proportion, this had to be nipped in the bud.

A couple hours later and after you had eaten dinner alone - a sloppy meal of macaroni and cheese with a full glass of red wine was the best you could muster - and you heard Robert walking to front door step outside, you went to aggressively pull it open, about to be utterly interrogative until you saw his oddly hurt expression, also taking in that his military uniform was gone and replaced with his usual suit and tie attire with a K-6 security clearance button pinned smartly to his gray blazer.

"What happened to your uniform?" you asked before anything else, skirting around the real problems.

"I returned it; I failed the physical requirements, and Isidor convinced me that I looked absurd and am better suited as myself," he replied, impatiently dismissive, and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"He's probably right. You are worth your weight as a scientist, not as a soldier."

"You stopped by the office today," he said, abruptly changing topic with an accusatory tone that you yourself had planned on using, and you tightened, clenching the doorknob stressfully.

"Who told you?"

"Nevermind that. Tell me, why did you speak to my secretary?"

You did not like feeling put on the spot, so you deflected and counter questioned him instead.

"You lied to me earlier about claiming it was taken care of, didn't you? I was right last night about who the phone call was from, wasn't I? You contacted her today when you know how risky it is for outside contacts, not to mention that we just arrived here yesterday. Are you out of your right mind?"

He gave a warning look with resignation and stepped into the house, gently pushing you off to the side. You followed him to the kitchen and took up the wine glass, swigging down the rest as he grimaced, glancing off to the dwindling bottle of uncorked wine next to the cheese encrusted mess you had left on the counter in the form of a dirty pot with the plate haphazardly resting in the sink.

"I see you made dinner for one," he observed and you poured out the rest of the wine into your glass, hovering by the table and taking numerous sips.

"Imagine that, I sincerely hope you weren't starving," you told him sarcastically and he scowled, reflexively reaching for a cigarette.

"I don't want to find out secondhand information from others, so I'd like to hear what happened today in the office and why you are acting like this," he said around the cigarette in his mouth and you snorted, almost amused.

"Oh, what does it matter?"

"It's my personal business, so yes, it matters very much."

Maybe it was the alcohol affecting your already soured mood, but you found yourself choking up on tears and angrily whisper-shouting at him, your voice all high pitched and shaky.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! She's not here, she won't ever be, and we are in a state of high security! You have to stop thinking about her, calling her, lying to me and-"

"This isn't as dramatic as you are making it," he interrupted placidly, but this only spurred you on.

"Oh, really?! I'm not the one violating security and calling a Communist ex-girlfriend from another state while on a classified government sanctioned project! You are the sole issue here, Robert!"

"Stop. Let's not fight," he ordered, grasping your arm and leading you away from the counter and the empty wine bottle.

"I have no desire to be unfaithful to you. Jean contacted me first and I just had to reassure her I was alright because she was worried; she has seen men likely from the FBI tailing her outside her apartment and she is justifiably concerned for her own safety and for mine being so far away."

You pushed aside the tiny piece of worry you had for her and bit back at him coldly.

"I see. Well, why don't you call up Katherine while you're at it and tell her you haven't vanished off the face of the earth because these women cannot bear a day not knowing your exact existence?"

Robert glanced down at his shoes, speaking bitterly.

"She would not want to hear from me."

"Because you wouldn't marry her unless she had a child of yours. Would you have a baby with Jean if given the chance?!"

He blinked, taking in your appearance like he'd just seen you for the first time.

"What is the matter with you tonight? This is not about procreation with anyone and why have you become so devoutly anti any political and ideological affiliations?"

You swallowed and licked your lips clean of the wine stains and refused to answer, but he knew you well enough to get an understanding of your silent expressions.

"This is not a matter of my ties to controversy, but about my feminine associations only, isn't it?"

"I, I just don't want any trouble," you admitted as you waved your hand still holding the glass and it slipped right out of your fingers, nosily crashing to the floor.

"Oh, fuck," you swore, stepping away from the splattered glass and sucking a breath in as Robert stood still, staring from the floor up to your flushed face.

"Perhaps I should lock up the liquor cabinet tonight if this is any indicator. How many drinks did you get into?" he asked scoldingly.

"Stop treating me as if I'm a fucking child," you spat out, taking one step back from him.

"I never said you were, but I'm well aware that Kitty has a similar problem when she gets upset; it accelerates already induced negative emotions and even worse so here due to the altitude, I believe it-"

"Don't you dare equate me to HER!" you practically shrieked, backing away into a chair as he came forth, concern and fright sparking in his eyes. You shook your head furiously, shaking up your perception of the slightly blurry kitchen and gulping air before your next verbal assault at him.

"God, you're such a mess, Robert! You just can't stop reminding me and how many more women are going to come out of the woodwork while we're living here?"

"I have cut my ties to all former affairs, you know that. I told you the day we became engaged, but Jean and Kitty are taking longer to rinse out of my personal contacts."

"Speaking of rinsing, I washed the sheets this morning and I need to bring them in, so excuse me," you declared, really needing fresh air more than anything at the moment, so you stumbled out the back door to retrieve such items from the clothesline. You wiped your eyes and took gulping breaths to calm your racing heartbeat and to get ahold of your emotions that were misfiring all at once... Maybe you had drank too much wine, you sure felt terribly psychologically unsteady. You fell down to your knees on the grass and put your aching head to the bundle of dry sheets and few clothes from yesterday, willing this to pass and wishing you had never gone to the office today and left everything as it was. Ignorance wasn't bliss, but at least it made information ignorable unlike knowledge which burned persistently in your brain until you threw water on the emotions stemming from the paining scorch. Maybe you were overreacting and too young, but Christ, being compared to his other women made it feel worse. There was no way to have a symbiotic relationship with him when he had them parasitically clinging on; you couldn't compete with a woman like Katherine, who was closer to Robert's age and unapproachable, while Jean was a known Communist who knew some of your friends. It all felt too... personal.

When you finally stood up once your head stopped pounding enough to come back inside, stepping around the broken glass and spilled bit of wine that you'd end up cleaning later, Robert had moved to the lounge and was smoking a cigarette while lying back on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He gazed at you carefully and cautiously as you stopped in front of him and spoke businesslike, struggling to retain what was left of your composure.

"A woman came around this morning unannounced and you know what-what she told me?"

He stared through the haze of smoke, wearing soft curiosity as you took another deep breath.

"She... She told me I should consider myself to have the easiest job in the world and that is to be married to - and I quote - 'Dr. Robert fucking Oppenheimer'."

He had little reaction other than raised eyebrows in amusement and he lowered the cigarette, gesturing at you with it.

"Do you feel that way? Am I a good occupation for you?"

You scoffed, striding out of the room with the bundle of sheets and clothing in your arms.

"Not a chance after today," you called back over your shoulder, making your way to the bedroom. You tucked the sheets in, making the bed when the sound of an audible sigh from the doorway made you turn reluctantly.

"We can't go on like this, it hasn't even been a week and already we're fracturing our unity and trust. You aren't taking to Los Alamos very well," he said gently and you deflated in the truth, sinking down on the bed as he walked over to accompany you.

"No more phone calls," you instructed him firmly when he settled next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"No suspicious calls, I promise. You are beginning to sound a lot like Leslie Groves."

You sat up straighter and attempted to imitate the General's gruff voice, glaring at him forebodingly.

"Robert, you'll do what I tell you because this fucking important! Otherwise, I'll have to rip that phone right off its cord and jam it up your ass to stop you from jeopardizing national security."

"Yes, ma'am." He was taken aback by this threatening proclamation, yet smiled in good humor, but you then grew more somber and back to your normal voice.

"I'm just tired of feeling as though I am in a competition even being married. I tell you, if I hear any further word about certain past lovers, I will be confiscating every single cigarette you have."

His eyes widened and another smile tugged at his lips as he took your hand, placing it in his lap and rubbing circles into your faint blue veins.

"I would surely not last a full day if you did that to me."

"Then don't make me."

He leaned in and kissed you swiftly, his tongue brushing past your lips and finding its well worn way in, intertwining with your own still doused in the taste of wine. You pulled away and laid back on the bed with him falling down beside you a second later, body relaxing. The palm of his right hand found your stomach that he gently patted affectionately.

"Forgive the off topic inquiry, but do you think you'll end up bearing fruit one of our years here?" He spoke in equal parts trepidation and hushed anticipation.

"I don't know," you murmured, unhappy he was bringing this up.

"I can arrange for a medical assessment, we have some very best doctors on staff..."

You groaned softly, shutting your eyes to the ceiling.

"No... I don't want to officially find out that I could be rarely infertile in any capacity."

"We don't know that for certain; naturally you are biologically and physically healthy, but out of an abundance of caution, I was only thinking-"

"You are always thinking, too much to a fault in fact. If we are meant to have a baby, then it will happen in its own time. However, I am not racing for it to come into creation here of all places, though, and if that means we have to pump the brakes on our active intercourse, then so be it."

He smiled in some relief, leaning over and kissing you again, his fingers weaving into your hair affectionately.

"I'm in no hurry for such a distraction either and I trust your instincts over my own brain on this one," Robert whispered as he caressed your cheek and leaned back lazily to gaze fondly.

"As you should," you teased with a mutter, but you echoed his unspoken thoughts that were not in favor of becoming a father soon when there was too much on his mind with the work here. Worse, you couldn't help but privately wonder if he would even be adept at being a father... When you tested positive for pregnancy for the first time and disclosed the news to him, you remembered how his face flickered from surprise to guilt to hesitant joy. You had kept it only between him and the doctor, which turned out to be good because you ended losing the fetus anyway in less than three months. Robert hadn't been exactly upset, but you had because it catapulted into existential questions, but he and the physician had assured you were fine and there was still plenty of time. For now though, you decided, it was too early to try out the theory of parenthood.

The bed springs lightly creaked as Robert sat up and left, mentioning he wanted to get a drink and read one of his books quietly by himself for awhile before bed and you were left to lay in the growing darkness, contemplating over what the rest of this interesting first week could bring.

Thanks for reading and I appreciate the patience as I work on this story more ❤️

[weemssapphic]

Hi how are you? I hope well! so i really like your writing actually ur my fav writer here on tumblr ;). So i had this idea for a fanfic by Miranda Hilmarson x reader. It was about Miranda being a traffic cop sometimes too and then she ends up giving the reader a ticket in one day and the reader gets really mad and even fights with Miranda, and then they end up meeting again, but what Miranda didn't know was that the reader would be her new boss!! From there I leave it to you, it can even be an enemies to lovers, you know.

I just had this silly idea, maybe you'll like it and I'd be super happy if you wrote it.💗

another thing! English is not my language, I'm literally writing this through Google translator so if something seems strange to you, you already know ☠️

A/N: thank you sooo much, that is so kind of you! I really liked this request and enjoyed writing it - it's my first time writing for Miranda so I really hope it's okay <3 just gonna post this and go hide now ahhhh

not your fault

Words: ~7.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: slight enemies to lovers, mentions of Adrian Butler (ugh), reader has a temper - poor Miranda is on the receiving end, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, employee-boss relationship, angry Miranda, but also adorable puppy Miranda, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering, cunnilingus

“Are you fucking kidding me…” You groaned under your breath as you snatched up the little piece of paper stuck between your windshield wipers - a parking ticket. You were already running late thanks to your cat having puked all over your carpet that morning, and thanks to the barista at the coffee shop who’d taken ages with your latte - and now you were going to be even later.

You whipped your head around, looking for the officer who’d given you the ticket. A tall, blonde woman in a police uniform was strolling down the line of parked cars, handing out tickets to each one. The officer turned as you stomped over, eyes widening as you advanced on her until you were standing right in front of her. You had to crane your neck up to look at her - in any other situation, you might have found this insanely arousing, but right now you were far too pissed.

“Care to explain this?” You waved the paper in her face - she went slightly cross-eyed as her eyes followed your movements. 

“Uh, that’s a parking ticket, ma’am.” The officer swallowed visibly, taking a step back.

“I park here every goddamn day,” you hissed.

“I’m sorry…” She seemed a bit dazed and distracted for a moment as she regarded you, her eyes darting between your own, before straightening her posture and clearing her throat. “There’s, uh, a festival downtown this weekend, they’ve closed most of the parking zones until it’s over. There’s a sign at the start of the road.” She nodded her head over to a single sign set up at the next intersection, one that you had clearly missed in your rush.

You were seething, a billion arguments ready on your tongue, but the clock was ticking - and in the end, she was right, no matter how pissed you were.

“You know what, fucking forget it. I’m already running late! Thanks for nothing.” You stomped back to your car and crumpled up the parking ticket, tossing it on the passenger seat and groaning in frustration - the officer stood rooted to the spot, watching as you drove away.

~~~

Not wanting to get a speeding ticket in addition to your parking ticket, you took your time driving to the police station for your first day on the job. You’d just moved to Sydney to replace Adrian Butler as he left his position to “focus on his marriage” - you hadn’t even started yet and had already heard rumors of his extramarital affair with a constable. Men are pigs, you thought as you strode into the station and took the elevator up to the third floor, half an hour later than you’d planned.

The room was buzzing when you walked in but as soon as you cleared your throat and made your presence known, everyone went silent.

“I’ll spare you all the usual ‘first day’ speech - you should know who I am. I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other well over the course of the coming weeks, but for now I already have my hands full with everything that Detective Sergeant Butler so generously left for me.”

Your eyes landed on an empty desk near the center of the room. “Who usually sits there? Are they out sick?”

Some of the men began to snicker - one in particular answered your question. “Oh, that’s Hilmarson.” He smirked and took a sip from his coffee mug as he leaned against the side of the copy machine.

You raised an eyebrow. “And? Where is Constable Hilmarson?”

The elevator doors opened behind you and you turned around, eyes widening as you were confronted with the tall, blonde officer who’d given you a ticket. Her own shocked expression mirrored yours.

“That’d be her.” The man - Constable Brown, you’d later come to learn - chuckled, his smirk widening.

“Constable.” You glared pointedly at Constable Hilmarson. “My office, now.”

She frowned and followed you to the small office at the side of the room. You closed the door behind her and took a seat behind your new desk, gesturing for the officer to sit. She scrambled rather clumsily towards the chair and sat down, looking like a child about to be reprimanded.

“Constable Hilmarson, is it? Miranda?” You regarded her carefully. Her cheeks were rosy with embarrassment, her eyes wide as saucers. And, God, were they blue. They were mesmerizing. Miranda bobbed her head up and down in answer to your question, a bit of her pale blonde hair falling in her eye. She raised a hand to her head, dragging long fingers through her hair to brush it back - you had to physically shake your head to stop yourself from getting distracted by her movements.

“I like to be prepared, Constable. So I was having a look at your file the other day, you see, and I was under the impression that you are currently on a homicide case with Detective Griffin. Or am I mistaken?”

“Yes - I mean, no, you’re not mistaken.” Miranda shook her head furiously. 

“Then pray tell, Constable - why on earth did you spend your morning handing out fucking parking tickets?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice as you questioned Miranda - something about her was pissing you off (or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t even been able to drink your coffee yet), and you were having trouble reigning in your emotions.

Miranda’s face was bright red and her hands shook slightly. “I lost a bet,” she mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

“Louder.”

She cleared her throat, her eyes locking with yours. “I lost a bet. I had to take over Constable Brown’s duties for the morning.”

You sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not here to play games. Do you understand that?” Your voice was sickly sweet, bordering on condescension - it was not lost on Miranda, who was starting to look like she wanted to argue.

Evidently, she thought better of it at the last second, for she simply nodded as she glowered at you.

“You’re here to do your job, not Constable Brown’s job. And I expect you to do your job well. So, seeing as you’ve not only made me late, wasted your entire morning, and wasted even more of my time with this silly conversation, I would appreciate it if you could get to work. Now.”

Miranda stood abruptly, sending a stack of papers flying from your desk as she stormed from the room. You rubbed your temples, wincing at the force with which she closed the door behind her - you were already starting to develop a headache, and it wasn’t even 10 am.

~~~

As the morning went on, you found yourself growing more and more agitated, unable to focus on anything. You realized as your stomach growled for the fourth (or was it the fifth?) time that, in your rush, you’d skipped breakfast. 

The second the clock hit 12 for your lunch break, you were on your feet. You’d have to work through much of your break to catch up, but you could afford to take a few minutes to grab a coffee and a granola bar from the vending machines in the lobby.

Passing by Miranda’s desk, you noticed that her chair was empty - the sight made your blood boil. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down - it was her lunch break, too, and she had every right to leave her desk during that time. Her messy, cluttered desk… You clenched your fists and headed for the elevator.

That wasn’t the only time her desk was empty, however. Throughout the afternoon, you would look up from your paperwork (you found that Adrian had been terrible at properly filing paperwork, making your job that much harder) every so often - and more times than not, the constable was nowhere in sight. With a frustrated sigh, you stood and strode over to open the window - you desperately needed the fresh air if you were going to make it home without strangling someone.

The sight of Miranda smoking a cigarette in the alley next to the station, just under your window, had you clenching your jaw, nostrils flaring. You couldn’t help yourself - you immediately headed towards the elevator and took rapid steps out of the station, rounding the corner and advancing on the constable, whose back was turned to you.

“Hilmarson!” you barked - Miranda flinched as she turned to face you.

“What did I do now? Am I not allowed to smoke or something?” She sounded agitated, and that made you even angrier.

“This is your fourth smoke break in the past two hours alone. If your habits are going to get in the way of your job, then I suggest you-”

“You know, you’re really stressing me out!” Miranda yelled back, gesticulating wildly as she spoke. “I’ll do my damned job, okay? You’re just really not making it easy.”

You laughed - it was hollow and sarcastic - and took a step closer to Miranda. Your face was inches away from hers now - this close, your eyes were drawn to her lips, soft and plush, trembling slightly with anger. A little scar adorned her top lip and your gaze lingered there for a moment, arousal pooling in your core - until Miranda brought the cigarette back to her mouth to take a drag.

Torn from your trance, you plucked it from her grip and dropped it to the ground, crushing it with your boot.

“Talk to me like that again and I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Now get back upstairs.”

Miranda pushed roughly past you, her shoulder bumping into yours as she headed back into the station. You leaned against the wall and let out a loud groan, your eyes fluttering shut. Why was Miranda determined to make your day as difficult as humanly possible? 

With a heavy sigh, you opened your eyes and pushed off the wall, following the constable back inside.

~~~

Your second day on the job started out significantly better than your first. You managed to eat breakfast, get coffee, and make it to work on time, all without getting a parking ticket or arguing with a certain constable. Miranda had been at her desk when you’d walked past it and, mercifully, hadn’t said a word to you - though you could feel her eyes on you as you disappeared into your office.

When you left your office for your lunch break, you found the main office empty - you figured most of your officers were taking their lunch break as well. You strode over to the little kitchen, reaching for the handle when the door swung open in your face - your body colliding with a much taller one. You heard a gasp above you and looked up to see Miranda standing directly in front of you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock.

It was then that you realized your shirt suddenly felt a bit wet - your eyes fell to the half-empty bowl in Miranda’s hand, then to your torso, which was covered in milk and little pieces of cereal.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” you growled, pushing past Miranda and ignoring the apologies that poured profusely from her mouth. You grabbed a fistful of paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, quickly realizing that it was no use - you’d have to get changed.

You spun around when you felt a hand on your arm, glaring up at Miranda who looked down at you apprehensively. At your furious expression, she pulled her hand away as if burned. “Do you need help?”

Sighing, you closed your eyes and attempted to reign in your temper. “No,” you grit out. “It’s fine, you’ve done enough. I just have to go home to get changed, I guess.”

“Well if you don’t have a shirt with you then you can borrow mine?”

Your eyes flew open, meeting Miranda’s soft gaze before flickering down to her torso. “W-what?”

“I mean, I have an extra shirt in my locker.” Miranda gestured back towards the elevator with her thumb, a faint smirk playing upon her lips - the fact that you had just basically ogled her chest was not lost on her, apparently.

You could feel your cheeks turn red and you looked down at your own shirt, clinging to your chest - it had turned slightly see-through, and you could see your bra through the thin fabric. The drive home would cost you your entire lunch break, and Miranda did owe you for this… You sighed heavily.

“Yeah, sure.”

Miranda smiled, her eyes lighting up and crinkling at the outer corners - it was the first time you’d seen her properly smile, and it was beautiful. She crossed the kitchen and peered out the door into the office.

“The coast is clear,” she said with a grin, gesturing for you to follow her. You rolled your eyes and the two of you headed down to the empty locker rooms.

“I always bring something to change into after work,” Miranda supplied as she busied herself with opening her locker. “It might be a bit big on you but at least nobody will be able to see your bra.”

You started to unbutton your shirt, feeling Miranda’s eyes on you as you did so. It was hard to focus with the constable in such close proximity - you struggled with the buttons as you found yourself growing more and more flustered.

“Here, let me help,” she murmured, and before you could stop her, her hands were on the buttons of your shirt. Her fingers brushed against the swell of your chest, just above the fabric of your bra, and you shivered visibly, your mouth going dry.

“T-thanks but I got it,” you mumbled, gently pushing Miranda’s hand away. “Could you turn around?”

Miranda furrowed her brow, her face flushing. “Oh, sorry!” She placed a baby blue t-shirt on the bench next to you, then turned and studied the bare wall with great interest as you got changed.

“You can turn around again,” you said, clearing your throat. Miranda did as she was told, her eyes getting stuck on your chest for a moment before meeting your gaze. Your anger had all but dissipated, replaced with an unfamiliar and somewhat unsettling tension as you looked at Miranda, your stomach flipping.

“Uh, thanks,” you whispered. “For the shirt.”

Miranda’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yeah, of course. You know, I’m really excited to have another woman on the force. Last night I was looking into your case in Auckland before you got promoted - I talked to Robin about it, even she was impressed.”

For once, you were left speechless. For all the crap you’d given Miranda since meeting her, she seemed so genuine and excited to be speaking with you in that moment - you could feel yourself get flustered again, and all you could do was nod your head as she spoke.

“Oh, my lunch break is over so I have to go meet Robin but, uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded absentmindedly, stuck on the way Miranda’s hands moved as she spoke and the brightness of her eyes. She shot you one last grin before turning and taking long strides out of the locker rooms, leaving you to stand there in a daze, holding your wet shirt.

~~~

It was finally Friday and you’d been invited to go to the bar for drinks after work to celebrate the end of your first week - you stood in the lobby of the station, waiting for Robin to join your group before heading out. 

Since the little cereal incident, you were trying to actively avoid thinking about, looking at, or talking to Miranda, but she was making that damned near impossible. When you’d returned her shirt back to her, freshly washed, she made sure to allow her fingers to brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. She wasn’t at her desk much throughout the day, off investigating leads with Robin, and for that you were grateful - but every time you saw her desk, littered with empty takeout containers, paperwork, coffee mugs, you felt a twinge of annoyance, followed by a sinking feeling of guilt that you couldn’t quite place. As a result, you spent much more time than you wanted sitting at your desk, dissecting your feelings for the blonde but coming up empty.

The door to the station opened and a civilian walked in with a small goldendoodle on a leash. A gasp sounded to your right and you couldn’t help yourself - your eyes followed the sound just in time to see Miranda crouch down and extend her arms towards the dog, which jumped excitedly up at her, trying to lick her face. 

You couldn’t tell who was more excited about the interaction - Miranda, or the dog. The blonde was letting out little squeals of delight, cooing at the dog as she buried her fingers in its fur.

“Pull yourself together, Constable,” you grumbled, annoyed mostly at yourself for the way your stomach was reacting to the sight of Miranda cuddling the dog. It was childish and unprofessional… You most definitely did not think it was cute. Not even a little bit, no… You blushed and looked away as Miranda stood up, missing the look of disappointment in her puppy-like eyes.

After that, though, you found you couldn’t even enjoy getting drinks with your colleagues - your mind was going in circles and you were unable to shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You sat at a booth near the back of the bar, nursing a beer as everyone around you joked around and slowly got drunk. 

You couldn’t keep your gaze from wandering towards Miranda, who was seated at the opposite end of the table. She sipped her beer, smiling occasionally at something one of the others said - your eyes, once again, got stuck on her smile. The upward quirk of her lips, the subtle scrunch of her nose, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. When she caught you staring, however, she quickly looked away, the smile sliding right off her face.

It affected you more than you would care to let on - as soon as her smile was gone, you wished for it back - desperately. And it was stupid, really - she’d somehow managed to sour your mood every single day this week, and yet your body was reacting to her in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time. With a sigh, you drained your beer and ordered a second one - this was going to be a long night.

~~~

If you’d thought your second week on the job would start better than the first, well - you’d quickly find out just how wrong you were.

Monday morning started like any other - you strode into the office with your coffee to-go cup, passing by Miranda’s empty desk. There was a half-empty bowl of cereal at the edge, stacks of manila folders and paperwork strewn over the surface, an empty, crumpled paper bag from the local bakery that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the computer keyboard. It stirred up a twinge of annoyance in you, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling.

Looking up and seeing the blonde standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen, you quickly averted your gaze and hurried to your office.

Your mind began to wander as you answered your emails and a flash of blonde through the window in your office caught your eye. Miranda walked back to her seat, a mug in her hand. She reached her desk and distractedly looked up, talking enthusiastically with Robin as she placed the mug down on a teetering pile of papers.

You looked on in horror as the pile slowly toppled over, spilling coffee all over her desk - you couldn’t bear to watch anymore, dropping your head into your hands in frustration as you heard Miranda let out a gasp.

Not my problem, you thought, trying to take steadying breaths. It wasn’t your desk that she’d spilled her coffee on, after all. 

You stood and made your way to your office door, calling out for Robin.

“Yeah?”

“Did you manage to get a copy of the autopsy results already? I really need them.”

Robin shifted slightly from foot to foot, a frown growing on her face - you really didn’t like the look of that.

“Actually, I sent Miranda to get them this morning.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked past Robin at her colleague, who was frantically wiping up the spilled coffee from her desk. “Hilmarson, can I get those autopsy results?”

Miranda looked up, freezing in her movements. Her eyes darted between you and her desk and her cheeks were rapidly turning pink. “They, uh… Got a bit soggy.” She strode over to you with a piece of paper in her hand. You took it gingerly, a look of disgust forming on your face as the entire thing was brown and dripping wet.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” you growled. Miranda shrugged sheepishly and muttered out an apology - you glared at her in return. “I need you to get me a fresh copy by this afternoon.”

Miranda opened her mouth to speak but you interrupted her, balling your hand into a fist and crumpling up the paper, tossing it on her desk. “And tidy your fucking desk like a grown up,” you snarled.

Miranda’s face was red as she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the office, taking large strides towards the elevators and disappearing from view. 

“She grows on you,” Robin supplied quietly, watching you watch Miranda. You snorted.

“I doubt it.” Your stomach churned uncomfortably even as you said those words. Why did this woman have such an effect on you?

“She’s been having a rough time, ever since the breakup with Adrian.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information - you’d known about Adrian’s affair, of course, but you’d never thought it would be with Miranda. “They were going to have a baby together, you know.”

You coughed, choking on your own saliva. “They what?” You couldn’t picture Miranda as a mother - she was far too clumsy and chaotic… and goofy. And generous. Okay, maybe you could picture it, a little bit. Your stomach churned uncomfortably - you didn’t know the details of the affair, but breakups were rough - you’d moved across the country after your last breakup. You suddenly felt ashamed for being such a bitch to her. 

“Yeah, well…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind…” You forced a smile and Robin raised her eyebrows, nodding and leaving you be. You tried to focus after that but you couldn’t, your mind wandering quite insistently to a certain constable. Guilt began to gnaw at your insides after having been so harsh with her. You’d have to - you wanted to - apologize for your behavior.

You locked yourself in your office and finished replying to your emails. Even half an hour later, Miranda was still not at her desk - nor was she in the kitchen, the locker rooms, or the alley under your window. You finally found her behind the station, looking out over the water and smoking a cigarette. 

“Hey,” you called, your heart clenching when you saw Miranda flinch as she turned to face you.

“Oh fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay, I-”

“I’m the one who should apologize. Robin told me it was you.”

Miranda’s face scrunched up in confusion. She dropped her cigarette and took a step towards you. “Sorry?”

“You know, with Adrian.”

Recognition flooded Miranda’s features and she dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Oh.” She let out a hollow chuckle and turned again, walking towards the water and lowering herself to sit at the edge. You followed and took a seat next to her, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you. 

“Men are pigs, you know?” Miranda said after a moment’s silence. A loud snort escaped your lips, causing Miranda to laugh - you hadn’t heard her laugh so freely before, but it made your heart soar and you thought it might be your new favorite sound in the world. It wasn’t quite melodic, not necessarily akin to birdsong - it was loud and unabashed and very Miranda, and for some reason you found you really liked that. You couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“You’re alright, you know that, Hilmarson?” you said with a grin, gently bumping your shoulder into hers. Miranda’s laughter slowly died out but the smile remained on her face, accompanied by a faint blush.

“Thanks. You are, too.”

~~~

“Hilmarson.” You slung your jacket over your shoulder as you strode past Miranda’s desk the following day around noon. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the pen she was holding, straightening her posture. “Come with me.”

Miranda scrambled to get up, slipping her phone into her pocket and following you to the elevators and out of the building. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone as she scurried after you. You bypassed the parking lot, heading down the street instead.

“You’ll see,” you said with a smirk, wordlessly offering Miranda a cigarette. She fumbled around in her pocket for a lighter but you were quicker, holding up your own. “Hold still,” you murmured, holding the lighter up to her cigarette and lighting it for her, your eyes catching on the way her long, slender fingers held it, as if it were a delicate thing. 

Your destination was a nearby coffee shop, and you held the door open for Miranda to step through. “After you,” you purred, smirking at Miranda’s wide eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled into the cafe, waiting awkwardly for you at the counter.

“It’s on me,” you said before ordering yourself a latte and a sandwich. “Get anything you like.”

Minutes later, you were sitting together at a little table in the corner.

“Look,” you started with a sigh. Miranda tilted her head. “Can we start over? I haven’t exactly been fair to you. You aren’t the reason I was late last week. I was angry and took it out on you, and that was really shitty of me.”

“I did spill cereal all over your shirt, though,” Miranda murmured with a sheepish grin, her cheeks turning adorably rosy.

“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” you said with a laugh. “That’s not the point, though. You’re too good to let yourself get walked all over, you know that?”

Miranda shrugged, unable to fully meet your gaze and focusing instead on her panini, out of which she took a huge bite.

“Not by me, not by Constable Brown, not by Adrian - you’re a solid officer and you have potential, you just need to stand your ground more.”

“Oh god,” Miranda spoke through a full mouth, her voice slightly garbled, her eyes wide. “Is this a performance review or something?”

You laughed, your stomach flipping as her blush deepened. “No. I just…” You hesitated, biting your lip and looking away. I just really like you. “I just wanted to apologize. I want us to work together, not against each other.”

“Really?” Miranda grinned, her eyes sparkling - the hope written across her face nearly made your heart stop, and you nodded. “I was so scared when I found out you were my new boss. I really thought you hated me.”

“I did, too,” you said with a laugh. “But… for the record, I don’t. I hope you don’t hate me.” 

Miranda’s cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she smiled widely. “I don’t.”

~~~

Ever since your lunch “date”, your feelings for Miranda were only growing. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of her at the station, your stomach fluttered when you heard her voice. You even found yourself timing your smoke breaks with hers, just so you would have an excuse to chat with her and bask in her presence.

The following Friday at the bar, Miranda chose to sit down next to you. She placed a beer in front of you and offered you a wide smile - you felt your face flush as you muttered out an uncharacteristically shy “thank you”.

The two of you listened to your colleagues talk and banter - or rather, perhaps Miranda was listening, but you definitely weren’t. You were far too focused on the constable and your close proximity to one another; the way her shoulder bumped yours every so often, the way her hand flexed around her beer bottle, the way her throat bobbed whenever she took a sip.

Miranda laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She looked to the side, meeting your gaze - you couldn’t help but grin giddily back at her, chuckling a bit, and you could see her cheeks turn red as she returned your grin. 

After your third beer, you started to feel a little daring - you placed your hand gingerly on her thigh, your touch feather light as you were afraid of crossing a line. To your surprise, Miranda placed her own hand on top of yours - it was warm and soft and large, and you could feel your pulse pick up as her long fingers curled slightly around yours. When you dared to steal a glance in her direction, you could see a soft smile playing upon her lips.

~~~

“Hey.” A low voice coming from the doorway to your office caused you to look up from your laptop. A smile involuntarily spread across your face seeing Miranda leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Hi,” you replied - Miranda hadn’t come into your office proactively since you’d started working at the station, but you supposed a lot had changed in the past few days. “Do you need something?”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I, uh, I actually wanted to ask if you’d want to come over to my place for a beer or something tonight?”

“Oh.” A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach at the prospect of spending one-on-one time with the blonde - who was looking increasingly like she was about to throw up, the longer you took to reply. “Yeah, yes, I would love to.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. “Okay, great. I’ll send you my address. How’s 7?”

“7 is perfect,” you said with a growing blush, chuckling as Miranda rushed back to her desk to grab her phone - your own phone pinged with a text moments later: an address.

~~~

You showed up promptly at 7, your heart pounding fiercely against your ribcage as you knocked on the door to Miranda’s apartment.

The door swung open to reveal the tall blonde, wearing the blue shirt she’d loaned you after spilling cereal all over you, as well as a pair of shorts. 

“Blue is definitely your color,” you said before you could stop yourself. It really was, though - it brought out the blues of her eyes, making them shine and sparkle against her pale skin. 

“Thank you,” Miranda said with a laidback grin, gesturing for you to enter her apartment. It surprised you to see that it wasn’t as messy as you’d have assumed it to be - it was definitely lived in, but it was clean and had very home-y vibes. More than anything, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelled like Miranda - light and clean, but with the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to the air. Her shirt had smelled like that, too, when you’d borrowed it, and though you never would have admitted it back then, you’d buried your nose in the fabric more than once before begrudgingly washing and returning it.

Miranda offered you a beer and guided you to her living room, settling on the couch and motioning for you to join her. The couch was relatively small and though you tried to leave some space between you, your knee ended up pressing lightly against Miranda’s thigh.

Despite your nerves, it somehow felt right to be in her space. You felt as though you were able to see a whole new side to Miranda - a side that you really liked. As the two of you engaged in some timid small-talk, you couldn’t help but wonder why she’d invited you - you hoped it was for the same reason that you’d said yes.

“God, I was so nervous to ask you to come over,” Miranda said with a cackle, shaking her head at herself before taking a swig of her beer.

“Were you?” The thought amused you greatly, and it gave you a shot of confidence. You dropped your voice an octave and leaned forward. “Do I make you nervous?”

Miranda looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening. Your eyes flicked briefly to her lips, to her wet, pink tongue darting out to lick them, and you found yourself leaning even closer. 

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” you murmured, scanning Miranda’s face for any sign of discomfort. Miranda’s pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly.

“I would kiss you back,” she whispered, her gaze landing on your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered back with a smile. Miranda nodded slowly.

“Uh-huh.” 

You closed the gap, your lips meeting hers - she tasted like beer and cigarettes, and her lips were impossibly soft. She kissed you back eagerly, whimpering a little as your tongue darted out over her lower lip.

You pulled back, your cheeks covered in a light blush.

“I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t-” you started, but Miranda interrupted you with a second kiss, this one deeper and hungrier than the first as her hands grabbed your cheeks, holding you in place. Her tongue licked greedily at the seam of your lips, which you immediately parted for her. You let out a deep groan as her tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in near-desperation.

“You taste so good,” Miranda moaned, her voice low and sultry, and desire pooled in your core.

“Mmmh,” was all you could reply as your hands gripped at Miranda’s waist and you swung your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands slid down to your waist, then your hips, then came to rest on top of your thighs. She gave them a squeeze and you found yourself involuntarily grinding your pelvis into her lap, her touch sending your body into overdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, Miranda swallowing your words as your bodies pressed against each other, a steady and suffocating heat building between the two of you.

The constable’s hands slipped under your ass and she turned you onto your back - breaking the kiss only briefly to position herself above you. One of her knees came to rest between your legs and she pushed it against your core, drawing a groan from your throat. The pressure was delicious against your aching sex and you bucked your hips to get some much-needed relief.

Miranda’s lips left your own and began to trail down your chin, your throat, your chest, stopping at the top button of your shirt - hot, wet, needy. She lifted her head and you looked down to meet her gaze - her pupils were blown wide with lust, her cheeks gorgeously flushed, her hair tousled.

“We- fuck,” you started breathily, finding it almost impossible to think as Miranda’s knee pressed against your clit. “We should slow down.”

Miranda nodded, her eyes widening and her cheeks bright red as she reluctantly pulled her leg away from your cunt. You bit down on your lower lip to stop a whine from slipping out at the loss of friction.

The constable settled half on top of you, leaning against the back of the couch and propping her head up on her arm. She closed her eyes as she tried to steady her heavy, ragged breathing. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with want. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped open and she met your gaze, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re not. I want this.”

“I don’t think I just want this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and swallowing hard. “I want you.” 

“I want you, too.”

You opened your eyes and met Miranda’s bright, eager gaze, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure?”

Miranda nodded and you lunged forward, your lips crashing into hers as your hand snaked its way around the back of her head, holding her in place. Your fingers threaded through her hair - it felt like silk under your skin.

Your other hand settled on her waist, tugging her on top of you - her body weight pressed you down into the couch and you groaned at the feeling. You needed more, you wanted more, so your hands found the hem of Miranda’s t-shirt and you slipped underneath it. Her bare skin was impossibly smooth, and you felt electricity coursing through your body at the feeling of her soft hips in your hands. Your hands found their way up her back and you raked your nails over the expanse of it, pleased with the hungry growl that escaped Miranda’s lips.

Finding the clasp of her bra, you unclipped it, slipping a hand around to the front of her torso and under the loose fabric to palm her breast. She grasped desperately at your waist as your warm palm rubbed over her nipple, rolling it into a hard peak. Miranda let out a breathy sigh and sat up, straddling your waist and pulling her shirt off. Her bra followed, and both were discarded on the floor behind the couch. 

You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared up at Miranda - your mouth going dry. Her rosy nipples contrasted against her pale skin, her abdomen rippled with every heaving breath that she took. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts - flicking your thumbs over her pert nipples and watching them harden further.

Sitting up, you hungrily took one of the rosy buds into your mouth, sucking greedily and soothing your tongue over it as you felt Miranda’s hands thread through your hair. You repeated the process on her other nipple, thoroughly pleased with yourself when Miranda let out a soft, breathy moan - one that was so deliciously pornographic that you felt a wave of arousal course through you, your panties growing damp.

You released Miranda’s nipple, your hands drifting down to the buckle of her belt and making quick work of undoing it. Miranda took the hint, removing her pants in a hurry and then focusing her attention on your own clothes. Your own shirt was unbuttoned and tossed aside in an instant, your pants tugged down your legs and dropped onto the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Miranda’s bare skin was hot against your own and you pulled her back down on top of you, your pussy throbbing as her nipples brushed against yours. You kissed her with hunger and passion, your left hand palming her ass as your right hand found its way between your bodies to cup her pussy over her underwear.

The constable groaned, immediately grinding against your hand - you noticed that she’d soaked through the thin cotton of her underwear. You pulled the fabric aside and curled your fingers against the length of her slit, letting out a gasp as you felt her dripping for you.

“I need you,” she whined, shuddering as your fingers explored her folds - letting out a strangled whimper when you smeared her wetness over her clit and began to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves.

Miranda turned out to be as loud as she was sensitive - you found it easy to bring her to the edge, time and time again, your fingers applying a gentle pressure to her clit and pumping easily in and out of her, her slick walls drawing your digits in and clenching tightly around them. Her unabashed moans filled the air, echoing off the walls of the living room and having you wondering - only briefly, though - how thick those walls were.

After her fifth orgasm, when the stimulation finally became too much for her, Miranda whimpered and shifted her pelvis away from you. Taking the hint, you pulled your hand out of her underwear, your fingers shining with her arousal. You lifted them to Miranda’s face, smirking when she immediately opened her mouth and allowed you to place your fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean, her flushed cheeks hollowing out, her kiss-swollen lips wrapped around your knuckles. 

You leaned forward to kiss her as she released your fingers, eager to taste the remnants of her orgasm on her tongue. The taste was heavenly - you were almost sorry that Miranda was so overstimulated - you’d have given everything to go down on her.

She pulled back from the kiss, her hot, heavy breath ghosting over your face as she rested her forehead against your own, trying to steady her breathing. A bead of sweat had collected on her forehead and you reached up to wipe it away, tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear. It was too short, of course, and immediately fell back into her face - it made you smile, and Miranda smiled - no, beamed - back, her eyes sparkling.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” you whispered into the silence - Miranda blushed and shook her head no. Her fingers danced along the waistband of your underwear, lightly at first as she leaned in for a languid kiss. Then her fingers curled under the waistband and began tugging, her lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your sternum, your stomach - soft, warm, wet, hungry. She tugged your underwear down your legs, her lips immediately replacing the fabric as she pressed kisses to your mound, to your inner thighs - finally disappearing between your legs. 

You felt her tongue lap hungrily at your folds, little noises of pleasure coming from between your thighs and vibrating against your cunt. It was both adorable and extremely hot at the same time, how eagerly Miranda ate you out - sloppy, yet determined (and very skilled, you noted mentally, letting out a filthy groan as her lips latched onto your clit, her tongue flicking at the sensitive little bundle).

By the time Miranda was finished with you, your thighs were trembling and your breathing was ragged. The constable pressed one final kiss to your clit, before sitting up and grinning goofily down at you. Her chin was coated in your slick and her cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help but loop an arm around her neck and pull her close, licking your own arousal off her face before meeting her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

After what felt like hours holding each other, kissing and regaining your breaths, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy and you sighed.

“I should probably get going,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Yeah - of course.” Miranda blushed as she pushed herself off you. “Can you just wait here?”

You nodded, furrowing your brows as the constable stood and walked out of the room. You heard the tap running, then she came back with a wet washcloth.

“Is it okay if I…” Her eyes darted down between your legs as she took a seat next to you.

It was your turn to blush. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

Miranda cleaned you up with great care, being extra gentle as she soothed the washcloth over your clit. When she was done, you got dressed in silence, then allowed Miranda to walk you to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“Would you want to…” she trailed off, not quite able to meet your gaze.

“Are you busy Saturday? Would you like to go on a date with me?” You couldn’t help but smile as Miranda’s eyes widened and she began to nod, a look of relief washing over her face as her lips curled upwards.

“Yeah - I’m not busy, I would love to.”

“Good.” You smirked, leaning in to press your lips to Miranda’s - her breath hitched in her chest. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You turned to leave, exiting the apartment and walking down the hall. Turning around to wave goodbye, you could see Miranda smiling as her head poked out from behind the door. 

That night, you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face and a warmth in your belly - already mentally planning your date.

x

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[amazingmaeve]

INFATUATION (3/?)

homelander x fem!reader

series summary — homelander meets Ashley's sister and he's already feeling infatuated with you and he just can't help it, even though ashely is fucking annoying he can't help but think you were the exact opposite.

summary — after a very long day of anger and stress which makes you loses your job homelander offers you a very tempting job.

warnings — homelander being himself, mentioned stalking, angst, fluff, toxicity from homelander, unwanted groping/sa (mentioned and not by homelander, men being there usual asshole selves.

word count — 2948

authors note — sorry for the kinda long wait I was trying to get ideas for this and luckily tonight was one of those nights I got one.

homelander masterlist | the boys mastelrist

Feeling the fire grow inside of you as you looked up at the security guard in front of you, you tried not to get yourself arrested. You couldn’t afford bail at this point in your life since you had just lost your job. Said guy who groped you a few days ago tried to get a little more from you, and the only thing you could think about doing was kicking the asshole in the balls which got you fired.

Made since, your boss was a man. Men usually stick together in situations like this.

You know you should regret since you have a baby to take care of but deep down, that man already got too much leniency and now you wanted to do much more than kick the dick in the balls. This is one of the few times you have gotten angry.

Unfortunately for you, another reason why you were made is because Ellie's father had decided he wanted to step up now and be a father, claiming he had a right to see her, he was her father.

To be honest you were gobsmacked during that whole entire conversation with him, his ego had decided to grow more over the past year since you had seen him. He had no fucking right to be calling you, after he ditched you claiming he didn’t want to be a father and left you pregnant. Whilst you had to give birth and take care of your child alone. Daniel had no rights in this situation, she was your child, you are there for her when she cries at night, you’re there when she needs to be fed, you’re there when she needs her diaper changed, and you’re there when she needs comforting.

Not him.

But him and his asshole behavior had claimed he was a changed person ever since he met this woman who changed his mind, and that made you lose your fucking mind. How could this one girl change his mind, but not the mother of his fucking child.

Ellie needs a father.

Another ridiculous sentence he spewed and you had to chuckle on the phone when he said that. Ellie didn’t need a father, especially not one like him. One that might ditch at the drop of a dime. If he wanted to see Ellie he had another thing coming, you would fight like hell before he even set eyes on her.

That's what landed you here, at Vought, where you were hoping to find Ashley, wanting help and advice on what to do for money and an asshole who seems to think he’s the king of the world.

But this security guard said Ashley wasn’t meeting with anyone and you rolled your eyes. You didn’t have a meeting with your sister, when you just wanted to talk to her. Luckily Ellie was at Daycare, ever since you had found a trustworthy one. You didn’t want her to pick up on your bad energy. Even though she was a baby.

“Listen I am her sister, I don’t have a meeting with her, if you would just call her you could see I’m not lying,” You sternly said glaring up at the security guard.

“She’s busy,” He said in a monotone tone.

“Fine then please just let her know-,” You began to say but a voice cut you off before you could finish your sentence. A voice you knew all too well.

“Is everything okay down here,” Homelanders questioned as he looked between you and the guy. Once he heard you enter the building he could help but come down to greet you, all his interviews and superhero nonsense was done for the day.

He had heard your anger on the way down in the elevator and he wondered what made you so angry. It seemed like it would take a lot to get someone like you angry. But he couldn't deny you looked very cute when angry, even though that’s something that you would try to deny. Homelander was glad to catch you without the baby attached to your hip, or with your sister.

“No sir she was just leaving,” The security guard said as his heart beat started to race a bit.

“I just wanted to get a message to my sister,” You snapped before putting your hand up to your forehead and began to pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling that stress was starting to way on you a bit.

“Okay you can leave I got this,” Homelander ordered the man in front of as he tried to not let a laugh out at this. The guy shifted awkwardly before scurrying off somewhere else to guard, leaving just the two of you standing here. He could hear your heart racing.

Although it wasn’t out of fear. You were really angry he could see that just by looking at you and with his superpowers but a normal human could see it. The way your hands were clenched at your sides and your brows furrowed. It was really obvious.

“Thanks for that,” You gritted out not wanting to get angry at the most powerful man in the world knowing he could kill you in a blink of an eye. “Do you know where my sister is,” You questioned in a much calmer tone.

“Unfortunately she’s not in the building at the moment, she’s out at some meeting for Vought and probably won’t be back for a few more hours,” Homelander answered your question ignoring the tone in your voice, although he did hate it when people got angry at him and that ended up very drastic. He kinda liked it on you.

You were different from any woman that he set eyes on. Not too demanding like Stormfront, Madelyn, or Maeve but you weren’t afraid to stick up for yourself it seemed.

As he said those words he could see the defeat wash across your face as you let out a saddened sigh before looking at the ground. It seemed as though your anger had diluted into sadness.

“Thanks I guess I’ll go home and wait to call her,” You whispered, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Well why don’t you come up to my penthouse and wait for her, it would be much easier than driving all the way to your home and then driving back,” Homelander offered as he gave you a smile. He knew how it sounded though, kinda overbearing and kind of a red flag.

“I don’t know, I mean that’s your home, I don’t want to intrude on your privacy,” You hesitated, not knowing how it would be standing in THE Homelanders penthouse.

“Come on, it’s not like you could have something better to do,” Homelander teased even though what he said was the truth, he knew that and you knew that. What could possibly be better than spending time with Homelander and spending time in the place he called home. Although he still saw hesitation and smelled all over you so he let out a sigh. “You could even rant to me why you’re so angry,” He stated.

“How did you know I was mad,” You asked in amazement with a hint of a smile starting to grace your lips.

“Come on Y/N do you know who you’re talking to,” Homelander rolled his eyes casually as he gave a teasing glance and your face came to realization.

“Now I get it,” You whispered. “Fine I’ll go up to your penthouse but I need to get Ellie in a few hours,” You said taking a look at your phone checking the time.

Now Homelander for real rolled his eyes at the mention of the baby. God just the mention the baby just soured his mood a bit but tried to shake it off not wanting to put you off in any way. He assumed you wouldn’t take a liking to a guy who hated your child.

“Come on, let's go,” He said with a smile.

Once the two of you had made it up to his penthouse, you looked at the place in awe. It was truly an amazing place to you, it was HUGE. It had everything you assumed someone like him would like, glass statues, big couches and a huge window out looking at the whole city. There was a kitchen that looked untouched and you just thought Supes didn’t need to eat that much or they just had chiefs to cook for them.

This place was truly a masterpiece as you looked around in amazement.

Meanwhile Homelanders' eyes were looking at you while you marveled at his place. On one hand it was hilarious at the reaction his place got out of you, although you had probably never seen a place like this in your life. Then on the other hand he was flattered at the astonishment you were showing his place. He had no idea you would be like this and he was even more glad he brought you up here more than ever.

“I’m guessing you like the place,” Homelander questioned you as he put his hands behind his back and you looked at him, all the anger seemed to be out of you at the moment.

“Obviously. This is one of the best places I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” You remarked before looking around again as he almost snorted. You probably weren’t in many places at all but just wanted to impress him and he loved that about already.

“So why’d you need to see your sister,” Homelander got the topic off his apartment and back to your life issues. As soon as he said that your eyes dropped to the floor and your smile faded and he felt his own mood drop but he wanted to know what happened. So he could help. Albeit for himself but nonetheless for you as well.

“Uh well it’s just that my life is going to complete shit and there’s nothing I can do to fix it,” You answered in a melancholy tone in your voice.

A little dramatic. Homelander thought as he stared at you but the way your shoulders slouched and the way your eyes were already starting to tear up he knew he could say nothing without actually hurting your feelings. He’s already made this much progress and he didn’t want to ruin that.

“Well why don’t you tell me and maybe I could help you,” Homelander responded with charm oozing out of his mouth as you stared at him in shock. “Come on speak up, I know you got a voice,” He made a movement with his hands trying to get you to talk to him.

“Let’s just say I got fired today because of some asshole who couldn’t take no for an answer and Ellie's father seems to think he has any rights to see her even though he’s the dick who abandoned me and her,” You replied with an angered tone in your voice trying not to direct it at him.

Homelander knew he should’ve killed that prick you mentioned a few days ago, he should have found his address and choked the ever living daylights out of him. To think of it, the reason he didn’t was because he wanted to watch you that night. Homelander clenched his jaw as his hands turned into fist and only people with super hearing could hear the leather squeaking.

Not to mention the guy who spilled his seed inside of you thought he had the right to speak to you after you had his child. This guy already seemed like he had no brains. None whatsoever. Because if he had the child with you, he could never leave or even think about it. To make it worse he probably would want to lock you up here in his penthouse or in a cabin in the woods far away, so you couldn’t get hurt. This asshole didn’t even deserve to look at you or even the child you birthed and if he was here now he would show no hesitation lasering the fuck out of him

Taking a deep breath Homelander tried to get his anger in control so his eyes wouldn’t shine red and make you think he was mad at you. Now you were jobless and standing here looking so unbelievably weak for him and this was the exact time for him to shine. To make you think he was this good guy and wanted to help you and then maybe you’d be able to satisfy his needs.

“That does sound like a pickle you’re in,” Homelander commented as a few moments passed. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Now I have no job which means, I’ll have to fucking go homeless or be a fucking prostitute and I don’t want that for my daughter, all I ever wanted for here was to grow up and be better than me,” You sorrowfully say as you shook your head looking at the marble floors.

Homelander wouldn’t let you be a fucking prostitue and by the tone it wounded like you were being sarcastic because there was no way in hell that anyone would touch anything that was his. He was like a kid in that way, when a kid wanted his toy and someone else had it, they threw a tantrum. But his tantrum would end in blood and gore.

But an idea popped into his head as he stared at you. A job that you might be interested in. A job that you couldn’t refuse. Like anyone would refuse a job that the Homelander gave them.

“I have a job that you might be interested in doing,” Homelander proposed. As you looked at him in confusion. “You could be my personal assistant, everyone I keep getting I keep hating and getting fired and I like you,” He offered.

Your eyes widened a little when he said he liked you and you couldn’t help but feel your heart race at those three words he just told you. Even though he probably didn’t mean in that way it was still nice to see someone like you that wasn’t your own sister. But you didn’t know if you could take this job especially since you didn’t know if Ashely would like it.

“I don’t know I’m flattered but…” You paused and looked at him as you lightly scratched at your arm.

“But what, this is the job of a lifetime that anyone would except sorry but I don’t see any good endings for that sentence,” Homelander spoke as he walked up to stand right in front of you.

“I just- would Ashely even like this and I don’t even know if I qualify,” You rushed out.

“I’ll deal with Ashley and I’m more than sure you’re qualified to deal with my needs,” Homelander replied with a softness that almost made you melt right then and there. Then if anything could get any worse he brought his gloved hand to your cheek and caressed your cheek bone.

Homelander kept a smirk in as he felt your face heat up in his palm and it was obvious that you were liking what he was doing and although he wanted to go further with you, he held back, probably one of the only times he would. Homelander was starting to get desperate just wanted you to say yes to his offer that he was so generously giving you.

“Please,” He added on for an effect that made your eyes flutter with your face in his palm and he reveled in it. “Come on, it pays more than that other job that you had and you’ll be working closely with your sister.”

You let out a sigh as you contemplated the idea in your head. On one hand you didn’t want to except without informing your sister because you knew she’d killed you for not even getting her opinion because she worked here. Then on the other hand he was probably right about the money he was talking about and you needed that money. It would be good not to worry about how you're gonna get food for yourself and Ellie. Diapers, lights on, warm water, this would solve all your problems that you were facing.

Then another reason you wanted to accept his offer was something deep inside you. The way he said please and the way his hand enveloped your cheek and him looking at you with this softness that no one had ever given you. You’d be too embarrassed to say that you were getting a little aroused at this point and you didn’t even care if he knew because you were trapped looking at his baby blue eyes, that so easily could light red, staring down at you.

“I’ll take the job,” You accepted with a whisper and he gave a smile and his hand left your cheek and you fought to let a whimper out.

“Great!” Homelander clapped his hands and walked around you to the kitchen where he got some wine. “This is a cause for celebration,” He said, getting two glasses and pouring the red wine in one and looking at you.

“Actually I can’t,” You said with a cringe as you looked at his smile drop in an instance. “I can’t because of my breastfeeding with Ellie,” You say with an apologetics tone.

Homelander bit his lip once you brought this up and gave you a glass of water trying to steer his thoughts, especially with you in his presence. You accepted and took a swig of the water while he drank the wine.

“To new beginnings.”

[applepiewinchesters]

A Moment of Peace (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.5K+

Tags: Mentions of character deaths, angst, comfort, crotchety old man Joel 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN: I’d be happy to write for other Pedro characters as well such as Javi and Whiskey! :)

Joel hadn’t felt peace in his life since the night his daughter died in his arms. It hardened the softness in his heart, turned him into the man everyone feared, if they knew what was good for them anyway. Now he was all gritted teeth and seemingly permanent frown lines. Surviving was what mattered. He did his jobs and otherwise kept his head down.

But then you showed up, taking on two armed guards at the perimeter to get into the safety of the quarantine zone and eventually being granted asylum, and you seemed to make it your mission to annoy the older man.

You met Joel doing odd jobs around the area for ration cards, like everyone else. You annoyed him to no end, asking him a new dumb, at least in his opinion dumb, question every day. Most of the time the daily question would go unanswered. All you ever really got was a grunt in return.

But then Tess, for a reason Joel could not understand, began entertaining your questions, maybe the same thing every day was finally getting to her. She told you her favorite color, song, food, movie. You had been young when the outbreak started, younger than Joel and Tess, at least. You loved to hear stories of what everything had been like before.

You only had flashes of a life you had before. A house, a school, a woman you assumed was your mother. None of the women in the group you’d been in for the last 12 years was her though, so you could only assume she had died in the initial chaos.

Then Tess invited you along on one of her and Joel’s smuggling missions, much to Joel’s dismay, Tess reasoned the two could use a fresh set of eyes. But in the end, you ended up being quite good with a gun, even saving Joel’s ass from a couple lone clickers.

A begrudging “Thanks," had been sent your way as Joel stepped over one of the bodies, brushing past you. You’d beamed at him when he did so, and for some reason, his face had flushed, something Tess spotted and teased him about in his apartment the next day.

“You’re sweet on her,” Tess had said over her glass of bourbon.

Joel only glared at his partner, “Am not,” he grumbled.

“Whatever you say, Texas,” Tess had said, only making Joel’s frown deepen.

Maybe he liked you, maybe he didn’t, it wasn’t like there was much room in this world for love anyway.

As the years went by Joel’s annoyance with you changed to an odd fondness, at least odd to him anyway. He found himself glaring at the men in the quarantine zone who flirted with you, when they’d catch him glaring, they’d almost always end the conversation and quickly disappear.

When you would look behind you to see what had spooked them, Joel would always be in your line of sight, pretending to be busy with something else. You’d even once caught him pretending to check the time on his long-broken watch before walking away in the direction of a dead-end street.

You confronted Joel that night at his apartment, demanding to know why he thought he could act like your father scaring away any man other than himself from being within five feet of you. For the first time since knowing Joel, you watched him scramble for the right words. The usually stoic and hardened man was stuttering like a teenage boy.

When you stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm to get him to calm down, you watched his face grow red, and it clicked. Much to Joel’s dismay, you began giggling. Of course, an old man like him had no chance with you. His face only grew hotter, and his fists clenched at his sides.

But then you’d leaned up and placed a kiss on Joel’s cheek, his beard slightly scratchy against your lips. That was all he needed to turn his head and press his lips to yours, hands unclenching and moving to your waist.

You woke in his bed the next morning, Joel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you to his chest. Tess just so happened to see you leave his apartment that morning, practically kidnapping you from your assigned job of the day to learn all the details.

Now, two years later Tess was gone and you and Joel had been tasked with possibly the most important smuggling job of your lives.

It turns out the Fireflies had been keeping a rather important young girl under their wing, Ellie. She was immune to the fungus causing the outbreak, something Joel was wary of, making the girl show him the bite on her arm practically every hour to make sure it hadn’t worsened. The original goal had been to get Ellie to an extraction team at the capitol in Boston, which only ended in finding the whole group dead, and losing Tess.

Joel decided the next best thing would be to find his brother Tommy in Wyoming. You suggested going to Bill and Frank, who could possibly help with getting a car. So, you, Joel, and Ellie began the ten-mile trek to Lincoln.

Ellie was quiet most of the trip. You could tell she at least half blamed herself for what had happened to Tess the day before. Tess had sacrificed her last moments so that you three could get away, she believed that Ellie could be the answer to fixing the fucked up world you were all living in.

You’d had to practically force Ellie from the building as she struggled against you and screamed that you couldn’t leave Tess behind. But the other woman was already dead, the second she’d been infected.

Ellie trailed behind you and Joel, watching as you interlaced your fingers with his. A gagging sound behind the two of you made you turn, Ellie making a grossed out face at the two of you.

“Are you guys dating?” she asked, scrunching her nose.

You laughed as Joel dropped your hand, a bit embarrassed, “Yes, technically.”

“Technically?” Joel asked, looking over at you, slightly offended.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” you laughed, playfully pushing the man slightly.

“Isn’t he like seventy?” Ellie asked, obviously still grossed out.

That made you laugh again, harder this time, as Joel grumbled something about “abandoning that kid in the woods.”

“55” you corrected Ellie, turning back around to face Ellie, apparently that answer didn’t curb her reaction as her face held the same expression from before.

You shook your head, smiling and turning back around, grabbing Joel’s hand once again, leaning your head on his shoulder for a moment while you walked. Joel squeezed your hand in return, not a huge fan of public displays of affection, but returning it nonetheless.

The three of you arrived at Bill and Frank’s around midafternoon. The sun still shone but was dipping below the trees, casting pretty shadows on the ground. Ellie looked around in wonder as Joel put in the code for the military grade gate surrounding the small town.

You hoped Bill was in the mood for company, he’d gotten crankier since Frank’s illness had gotten worse, but who could blame him. Those two had a love story most only dreamed about, you could only hope you and Joel could have a little slice of heaven like this one day.  

You and Ellie followed Joel to the house. It was oddly quiet, usually you could hear music playing, or even the older couple bickering playfully.

Joel knocked on the door, “Bill?” he called.

Your eyebrows knit together at the lack of response, you reached around Joel, trying the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked. Bill was too paranoid, rightfully so, he always kept it locked even when he was home.

Joel moved you behind him, drawing his gun from the holster at his side, opening the front door all the way and calling Bill’s name again. Joel walked inside, you and Ellie following closely behind.

“Holy shit,” Ellie marveled at the home, it was probably the nicest place she’d ever been in, even if it was just some cranky old man’s house.

“I’ll check upstairs,” you said, drawing your own gun as you walked up the stairs.

Joel told Ellie to stay by the door while he searched the main floor of the home. You found nothing but empty rooms upstairs, so you headed back down. When you rounded the corner to the dining room, you found Ellie holding an envelope.

“It was in the table,” Ellie explained. When she handed you the envelope you could see “To Whomever (Probably Joel)” written on the front.

“Joel!” you called, tearing open the envelope and opening up the letter the was inside.

Joel appeared in the doorway, “What is it?” he asked you, and you began to read.

August 29th, 2023

If you find this, please do not come into the bedroom. We left the window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight.

Your throat tightened, but you continued.

I’m guessing you found this Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehe. Take anything you need. The code to the bunker is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like were friends…almost. And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep Y/N and T…

You stopped, choking on Tess’s name. Joel grabbed the letter from you, reading the rest to himself. He turned suddenly, pulling open the front door and leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Stay here,” you told Ellie, sliding off your backpack and following Joel out the door.

He hadn’t gone far, he was standing on the front lawn, breathing heavy.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, approaching Joel and touching his arm gently.

When the man turned to you, you could see his eyes were glistening.

“I…” Joel choked out, “I can’t.”

“I know,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting him bury his face into your shoulder, arms locking around you.

Joel breathed deep, shuddering as he attempted to curb the breakdown. He hated crying, especially in front of other people, in front of you.

But there had been countless nights where you’d held him after a nightmare. Before that though it had taken eight months into your relationship with him before he stopped locking himself in the bathroom, taking swigs from a bottle of smuggled liquor until the images of his dead little girl finally faded.

Joel’s hands gripped at your jacket, attempting to ground himself, to assure that you were there.

“We’ll be alright,” you told Joel, rubbing his back.

Joel only nodded against your shoulder, before lifting his head to look at you. You reached up, wiping away a few stray tears on his cheeks. He shook his head, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He should be comforting you, not the other way around.

“I’m sorry baby,” Joel told you, making you shake your head.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” you reassured.

Joel leaned down, pecking your lips softly before taking your hand and heading back inside.

You both found Ellie sitting at the dining room table, messing with a loose string on her shirt.

“Show me your arm,” Joel told her.

The girl quickly stood, rolling up her sleeves and showing Joel her bite, which hadn’t changed, Joel nodded, signaling he was satisfied with what he saw.

“I’m gonna check on a few things,” Joel told you, making you nod.

His next sentence was aimed at Ellie, “You stay put, what she says goes”.

Ellie only nodded as Joel headed back out the front door, you sighed, leaning against the doorframe to the dining room.

“Is he always like that?” Ellie asked you, not meeting your gaze.

“Like what?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Crotchety,” Ellie answered, shrugging.

You huffed out a laugh, “He’s lost a lot is all, takes a toll on you, on everyone. You probably just remind him of…”.

Cutting yourself off, you decided Sarah’s was not your story to tell, not without Joel’s permission.

“Of what?” Ellie inquired.

Shaking your head, you pushed off the doorframe, “Not my story to tell kid.”

Ellie only nodded, accepting your answer. She looked solemn, aged beyond her years. This was no world for a kid, you could only imagine what her mother had been thinking bringing her into it.

A thought crossed your mind and you smiled at Ellie, “There’s hot water, at least, there should be,” you told her, remembering the last time you’d been here and had helped Tess with the dishes from dinner, “there’s at least three bathrooms upstairs, pick one.”

Your smile widened as Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, getting up from the table and bounding up the stairs.

Laughing softly, you listened until the shower turned on before walking across the entry way to the living room area, where the old piano sat. Frank had taught you a few songs when you’d first visited with Joel and Tess. Your eyes watered at the thought of the kind man but you pushed the tears down and you sat, placing your fingers on the keys.

You lightly played one of the songs Frank had taught you, one of his favorites from the 90’s, “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith.

A bit of time must have passed because you jumped when you felt a sudden hand on your shoulder but relaxed at the feeling of a kiss being pressed to the top of your head. Joel.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack,” you commented, playing random chords now.

“Sorry baby, just got done fixing a truck battery,” Joel told you.

His hands were covered if what you assumed was oil or grease, and you cringed.

“Oh, you’re definitely washing up before we leave,” you told him.

“Where’s the kid?” he asked suddenly, looking behind him.

“Shower, come on, our turn,” you told Joel, standing from the piano bench and taking his hand and pulling him up the stairs.

You knocked at the bedroom door at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah?” came Ellie’s voice.

“Joel and I are gonna clean up too alright? Be good,” you called through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the girl called back, making you smile and shake your head before pulling Joel towards what had previously been the master bedroom until Frank could no longer make it up the stairs and the two men began using the downstairs guest room as the master.

Pushing open the door you’d left ajar earlier, you led Joel inside before shutting the door behind you and pulling off your jacket, tossing it onto the bed.

Your boots were next as you walked towards the bathroom. It was clean save for a bit of dust. A large clawfoot tub sat under the large window, the shower was in the corner of the room.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, you turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature before stoppering the tub. You stood, beginning to take off the rest of your clothing, your shirt going first.

You looked up, noticing Joel watching you, unmoving.

“I ain’t getting in there,” Joel protested, pointing to the tub as you unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down your legs.

“Yes, you are, it will be nice” you reasoned, pulling off your bra.

“Nope,” the older man protested again.

Once you were fully undressed you walked towards Joel, reaching up and beginning to unbutton his denim shirt.

“You take em’ off or I will,” you teased, making Joel crack a smile.

“Fine, fine,” he said, his hands replacing yours, attempting the grumpy old man façade, but that smile never left his face.

You eased into the now full tub after turning off the faucet. Once submerged you rest your chin on your arm on the edge of the tub as you watched Joel strip off the rest of his clothing.

Shimming forward a bit, you happily made room for Joel, who climbed in behind you, his muscles relaxing in the hot water. He had to admit, it did feel great.

Joel wrapped an arm around your waist, easily pulling you back against his chest. You settled in and rested your head on his shoulder, your hand covering his that was wrapped loosely around you.

You sighed contentedly, turning to look at Joel, who pressed a kiss to your forehead.

This was the feeling he was missing, the peace he’d been searching for, even if just for a moment.

“I love you sweetheart,” he whispered against your skin.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Love you too.”

 A/N: Alright so this is is the first TLOU fic I've written but I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think! ❤ 

[that-sw-writer]

Carpe Diem

Summary: Hondo Ohnaka plays matchmaker for his favourite Jedi, much to Obi-Wan's dismay.

Relationship: Obi-Wan x Reader (fem, no use of Y/N)

Notes: this story is more about Hondo being the bane of Obi-Wan's life than it is about the relationship, it's been sat in my drafts for a year so I gave it a swift ending.

Carpe Diem

'Kenobi, why the long face?' Hondo threw himself down beside a disgruntled Obi-Wan, who was nursing a drink in his left hand as he slumped over the table.

'Because it's been two rotations since I heard from the council and I think another night spent here is going to be the death of me.'

'You wound me, Master Jedi. What is there not to like about crash landing on Hondo's turf?' He grinned, throwing an arm around Obi-Wan, who merely grimaced. He didn't hate Hondo, per se. He just found him... exhausting.

'Perhaps the fact that last time I had a prolonged stay here, I was being held hostage by you. Pardon me if I don't trust your sudden sense of hospitality.'

'Bah! Do not cling to the past, Kenobi. I would never sell you out.' Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look. 'What? It would not be profitable to bring the Separatists here. The Republic, on the other hand, will pay handsomely for your stay.'

'Mm, quite.' Too tired to argue, Obi-Wan returned to sulking into his drink. He had been sure to pour his own drinks whilst in Hondo and his pirates' company; especially after last time.

'Jedi... so boring.' Hondo flapped his arms in his usual theatrical manner as he went off to bother somebody else. A long sigh left Obi-Wan's lips as he drained the contents of his glass. Maker, he must have looked so miserable. The council had assured him that a pickup was imminent, but the nature of war meant that plans were always subject to delays. He knew they were coming for him, he just didn't know when. Not to mention that he wasn't sure how much more of Hondo's babbling he could take. But, he knew he had to remain calm. The Council would be sending someone to collect him and, provided he remained unharmed, Hondo would likely receive his credits as compensation. It was just his luck that he would crash on Florrum. All these pirates did was drink, thieve, drink some more, and create more noise than Obi-Wan had ever thought possible. He had barely slept a wink for the past few nights. If the noise wasn't bad enough, Hondo's "guest quarters," as he had called them, were just a repurposed cell. Obi-Wan had decided that he would never complain about the hard beds aboard Jedi cruisers again.

After too long spent wallowing in his self-pity, he decided to retire for the night and meditate in the privacy of his "guest quarters." What caught his attention before he could leave the room was a voice he didn't recognise, one that stood out from the crowd. Whoever this was, they were yelling at one of Hondo's men in a Coruscanti accent similar to his own.

'Be a thieving pirate all you like, but do not test me. Give me my credits, or you won't make it to the end of that drink.' As Obi-Wan approached, he saw a blaster being pointed at one of Hondo's right-hand men. The woman behind it appeared to be very calm. Despite her cutting words, her tone remained level - something about her demeanour made Obi-Wan believe that she meant her threat.

'I'm not payin' for a job that didn't get completed.' The pirate slurred, his drink sloshing over the brim of his glass as he threw his arms up in protest.

'Are you trying to scam me, or are you just plain stupid?' Perhaps emphasising her point, she tapped the pirate's forehead with the barrel of her blaster. He was about to respond and escalate the situation even more, but Obi-Wan stepped in before he could. He knew it was none of his business, but it was his natural instinct as a Jedi to help.

'I'd assume he's both.' With the same calm tone as hers, but lacking the vicious edge, Obi-Wan caught the woman's attention. She glanced at him, whilst her blaster remained pointed at the pirate. Her eyes scanned him up and down, doing a double-take.

'A Jedi... on Florrum?' Her brow furrowed.

'Yes. Although this isn't my first choice of holiday destination, believe me.' His words made the corners of her lips turn up into the smallest of smirks. Obi-Wan felt an uncontrollable desire to smile back at her. It seemed as though his usual composure had abandoned him... perhaps Hondo had encouraged him to have one too many drinks.

'Are drunken pirates not your thing?' She laughed and his heart rate increased. Why? Why did it increase?

'Are they yours?' He nodded his head towards the drunkard at the end of her blaster.

'Don't get clever with me, Jedi-' she was smirking, but her expression dropped when she spotted movement in her peripherals. The pirate she had been arguing with was trying to sneak away from his impending death. Obi-Wan could tell that didn't sit well with this mystery woman. 'And you,' she launched forward, grabbing the pirate by his neck, 'better have those credits in my account by sunrise, otherwise, I'll make you regret ever being born. Am I understood?' Her last sentence was punctuated by her blaster tapping the pirate's temple.

'Yeah, yeah.' He slurred, flapping his arms as he stumbled away. Obi-Wan could sense that the pirate knew her threat was genuine. Her blaster was finally holstered and she turned to face him properly.

'I hope you're not expecting a thank you.' She raised an eyebrow.

'Not at all, I've come to expect very little from the clientele around here.' His reply elicited a short laugh from her.

'Very wise.' Neither of them spoke another word, but neither of them moved away. Obi-Wan could feel the Force poking at him, pointing out an unspoken desire to keep the conversation going. But, he bottled it.

'Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I was just about to retire for the evening.' He couldn't read her expression, but he thought that was probably for the best. He wished he'd forced himself to find something else to talk about; in his head, he could picture Anakin making fun of him. A snarky comment along the lines of: 'veryyy smooth, Master.' sprung to mind.

'Right, you're a Jedi,' she gave a slow nod and a flash of something akin to disappointment crossed her face.

'Meaning?' Rest forgotten, his brow quirked.

'Meaning... you're a Jedi. Lightsaber swinging, righteous, peacekeeper with morals.' Her nose scrunched at the last word.

'And I suppose spending my evening surrounded by immoral, uncivilised criminals doesn't fit that job description.' His eyes widened as he realised the implications of his words, 'not that you're an immoral, uncivilised criminal. I-I mean, you're... you know, you're...' As he continued to stumble over every syllable he tried to utter, she burst into laughter.

'I'm sure I should be flattered by whatever it is that you're trying to insinuate, Master Jedi. But, your first observation was right: I am all of those things, and hanging around people like me doesn't fit your job description.' Every word that left her lips convinced Obi-Wan more and more that she had some kind of Force sensitivity that was causing him to melt on the spot. There she was, admitting to him that she was a criminal - he had already seen her threaten someone at blaster-point. But, something about her was more intoxicating than anything Hondo had offered him to drink. Silence befell the pair of them again, but this time Obi-Wan decided to seize the moment and stop the Anakin-like voice in his head from mocking him.

'I'm sure one more drink before retiring won't hurt. Besides, since I've been here I've found it hard to sleep with all the noise.'

'Yeah, you get used to that.'

'Would you care to join me?' He really felt like he was putting his life on the line here. Dozens of Battle Droids could be standing before him and he wouldn't break a sweat. But, a beautiful bounty hunter and suddenly his resolve was crumbling. She looked somewhat surprised by his invitation, but a smile soon settled on her face.

'Sure, why not? Drinking with a Jedi isn't something you get offered every day.' Obi-Wan nodded in response and glanced to his left, looking for a quieter spot that would keep him away from the prying eyes and ears of pirates. He saw some empty seats at the end of a long table that was littered with Hondo's clientele, all drinking and jeering with one another. The pair of them sat down, but it dawned upon him that he was out of his depth in this setting.

'I, uh- I'm not entirely sure how you get drinks here.' He exhaled a sheepish chuckle, 'usually, I pour my own.'

'And why's that? You don't seem like the bartending type to me.'

'Let's just say that last time Hondo poured me a drink, I woke up in handcuffs.' He grimaced at the memory... handcuffed to Dooku and Anakin no less.

'Handcuffed?' She laughed, 'that was probably just Hondo's idea of a good time.' Normally he would have rolled his eyes at such a comment, but when it came from her he couldn't help but match her laughter.

'Believe me, these circumstances weren't what anybody would describe as a "good time."'

'Maybe where you're from, Master Jedi, but I think you'll find that there are a lot of things we enjoy here that you might... well, arrest us for.'

'Do my eyes deceive me-' A voice cut through the crowd and Obi-Wan willed the ground to swallow him up, '-or is Kenobi still here?' Hondo threw himself down at the table and looked between the pair of them. 'Socialising nonetheless!' He cackled.

'Hondo, do you not have somewhere else you should be?' Obi-Wan hoped he would pick up on the subtle hints in his tone, but who was he kidding? Hondo wouldn't pick up on it if he had outwardly told him to leave him alone with the outlandishly beautiful bounty hunter.

'Somewhere else? You mistake me, Kenobi. I am here to attend to my very esteemed Jedi guest and his-' Hondo's gaze moved to his companion '-new friend.'

'Hondo, always a pleasure.' She greeted him with what Obi-Wan could only describe as a flawless smile. It seemed almost like a reflex - something she had perfected through years of practice.

'Ah! My favourite hunter spending time with my favourite Jedi - what a surprise this is.'

'You should be thanking him, he stopped me from killing one of your crew.' She shot Obi-Wan a smirk. He willed himself to remain composed, especially with Hondo there.

'If he had died, I am sure it would have been deserved,' Hondo flapped his arm in dismissal before throwing it around Obi-Wan's shoulders. He responded to this with a disgruntled expression. 'Of course, this dashing Jedi Master stepped in to save the day. He is, after all, a hero.' Hondo exhaled a whimsical sigh, and Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. He was never this complimentary without an ulterior motive, only he couldn't work out the angle this time.

'I'll drink to that.' Despite Hondo's odd behaviour, she didn't seem to be discouraged.

'But alas, you have no drink,' Hondo shook his head and tutted. 'Kenobi, how could leave your lady-friend sat here practically dying of thirst?'

'I never-' he began to protest, much to his "lady-friend's" amusement.

'-come come, Kenobi. Let us go and fetch the drinks.' Hondo was ushering him out of his seat before he had a chance to process what was happening. He gave a fleeting glance back at the bounty hunter and decided that this was all worth it when he saw the way she laughed. He followed Hondo over to the bar, where hordes of pirates were gathering to get themselves drinks - many of which were sloshing out over the brim of the glasses as they stumbled away.

'What in the stars are you doing, Hondo?' He pinched the bridge of his nose, only speaking once they were out of earshot.

'Me?' He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. 'Why, Kenobi, I am just trying to enjoy an evening with my esteemed guest. How was I supposed to know that you would be socialising with your new friend?' There was a wry tone to his words.

'She's a bounty hunter, Hondo. We aren't friends, per se.'

'Not friends at all it seems. In fact, Hondo would wager that you're more than friends.' He elbowed Obi-Wan, letting out a loud cackle. As Obi-Wan stammered over his words, trying to make up some kind of viable excuse, Hondo leaned over the bar and ordered a round of drinks. When his attention returned to the Jedi, he laughed once again. 'Now now, Kenobi. There is no need for excuses.'

'I'm not making-' he began to huff, but Hondo didn't even register his voice.

'-what you need, Master Jedi, is a pep talk from old Hondo.' With a roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan attempted to interrupt, but Hondo shushed him. 'Kenobi, listen here. What happens on Florrum, stays on Florrum... mostly, anyway.'

'Wise words, as ever.' He snorted.

'Nevertheless! You must seize the day, Kenobi. That,' he gestured to the striking woman who now sat alone at the table, 'is one of the best bounty hunters in the outer rim. You would be a fool to let her pass you by.'

'You never do anything without an angle. You always have something to gain, I just can't work out what it is this time.'

'This is true, this true.' Hondo tutted, shaking his head, 'but can't old Hondo do something for an old Jedi friend out of the kindness of his own heart, just once?'

'No, you can't.' Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as a momentary pause.

'Pish posh, Master Jedi.' Hondo threw himself to grab the tray of drinks when it arrived. 'I just want you to have a pleasant stay. Besides, if the Jedi council do ever arrive to collect you, I'm sure they'd be willing to heavily compensate such a... generous host.'

'So you mentioned.' If Obi-Wan had a credit for every time Hondo hinted at the Republic paying for his stay, he'd have enough for early retirement. 

'Come along now, you can't keep a bounty hunter waiting.' With that, he shoved the tray of drinks into Obi-Wan's hands and pushed him back towards the table. As they approached, his companion's face lit up and he swore he had never seen anything that beautiful in his life. 'How generous of Kenobi to buy all of the drinks,' Hondo announced unnecessarily loudly.

'Did he now?' He could tell that she understood Hondo's angle but must have found it amusing enough to play along.

'I told him that as his host, I would pay. But, he has insisted on giving me the credits back, didn't  you, Kenobi.' A hand outstretched in Obi-Wan's direction and he raised an eyebrow.

'Really?' He knew there was no point in arguing. With a roll of his eyes, he tossed a few credits into Hondo's palm. Any excuse to make money...

'You see that? Generous.' Hondo threw himself down beside the woman, opposite Obi-Wan.

'Hm, well that is the Jedi way, is it not?' She smirked over at him.

'I'm sure being generous isn't just limited to Jedi.' He chuckled, taking a long sip of his drink. Over the rim of the glass, he could see Hondo staring at him, as if he was expecting him to say something else. 

'It is in this place, trust me.' She laughed, but he noticed that she was eyeing up his silent exchange with Hondo. After a beat of silence, she exclaimed, 'Kriff, is that a fight over there?' She pointed over Hondo's shoulder and he immediately whipped around, 'shame nobody's taking bets.' She tutted and Obi-Wan had to drink again to hide a laugh at the pirate's expense. Hondo scrambled to his feet and cleared his throat.

'Alas, I have another business venture to pursue. Remember Kenobi, seize the day.' He yelled, before scurrying off. Obi-Wan put his head in his hands and groaned.

'I think I'm in your debt for that.' He withdrew his hands and drank the remainder of his drink at a faster pace than he would usually deem appropriate. 

'I'm sure we can find a way for you to repay me.' Her tone, combined with the words, had Obi-Wan's composure turning to dust.

'What do you have in mind?' He hadn't intended for his tone to sound as flirtatious as it did

'That depends, how attached are you to those Jedi morals of yours?' She paused, 'no pun intended.' Obi-Wan was slightly taken aback - was the forbidding  of attachment that well-documented? Even if it were, why did he care that she knew about it?

'I'm not one to question my morals, but the definition of attachment is... somewhat flexible.' He was losing himself in the thought of it; stranded with pirates, a bounty hunter who seemed as intelligent and dangerous as she did gorgeous, and a desire bubbling up that he hadn't felt in as long as he could remember. Was the attitude of the pirates rubbing off on him, or had he had too much to drink? Either way, he really wanted to kiss her.

'It's funny how spending time surrounded by... how did you put it? Immoral, uncivilised criminals can change a man.' Her teasing statement was accompanied by a sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving his from the rim of the glass. When she lowered her glass she took a bold step towards him, 'define flexible.' She smirked, and Obi-Wan thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest with the speed it was beating.

Maker, it wasn't as though he was going to marry her. He had heard tales of Jedi bending the rules in far more serious ways. For liquid courage, he drew his head far enough away from her to empty the remainder of his drink. 'Do you want the dictionary definition, or the metaphorical one?' Having regained some of his wit, he grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

'You talk too much, Jedi.' She laughed, pulling him towards her so their lips would meet in a passionate blaze. He barely had a chance to react, but quickly settled into the kiss. It was safe to say that this was the highlight of his unplanned stay on Florrum - maybe it had even made the trip worthwhile. The pair's lips moved in tandem for a few moments longer before they separated. 'How do you fancy spending the night on my ship tonight? I may even throw in a lift home for you.' Their lips remained close and her voice was low - it was as if it were just the two of them in the room.

'I wouldn't dare decline, I've already seen what happens to those who get on your bad side.' He smirked and the way her face lit up with a laugh had Obi-Wan ready to do anything she wanted him to.

'What was it Hondo said? Seize the day, Master Jedi... meet me in the hanger in five.' Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, she left his arms and disappeared into the crowd before he could utter another word - something he was struggling to manage. He shook himself off and moved to gather his belongings from the repurposed cell that had been his home for the past few days. This seemed like a win win situation - a night with the bounty hunter and he would be dropped back home.

'Kenobi!' Hondo bellowed across the room causing Obi-Wan to stop in his tracks and take a moment to breathe and centre himself as he prepared for another interaction with the pirate.

'Hondo, I'm afraid I'm retiring for the evening.' He uttered the moment the pair were face to face.

'Tssh, I thought better of you than lying Kenobi.' He tutted, shaking his head in his usual over-dramatic manner. 'Did you think I wasn't watching?'

'I hoped you weren't at least.' He muttered under his breath as Hondo continued his speech.

'Your lady friend is waiting for you, is she not? Now now, I won't keep you long, but it would not be right of me to let you go without giving you some tips-'

'-no no, that absolutely won't be necessary.' Obi-Wan interrupted faster than a pod-race on Tatooine. 'It's like you said Hondo, seize the day, carpe diem, all of that.' He grimaced, giving Hondo a pat on the shoulder as he slid past him and tried to continue his journey.

'Excellent, Kenobi, excellent!' Hondo called after him as he rushed off. 'Just remember, you wouldn't be here without Hondo and his hospitality during a trying time! I expect payment in full Master Jedi, otherwise your next stay will not be so pleasant!'

'Next stay...' Obi-Wan repeated under his breath, rolling his eyes, 'not a chance.' At last free of Hondo's watchful eye, he scurried to gather his belongings and rush to the hanger.

Perhaps, all things considered, crashing on a hostile planet wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to Obi-Wan.