#and none of my jeans fit right anymore

[keclan]

i’ve been avoiding buying clothes for a long time bc Ugh but i’m doing it today bc i need some new basic things before going on this fancy cruise with my parents. dropped $300 in the first store. why is everything in the world so expensive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[virussoup]

haven't had body dysmorphic thoughts for so long, when that shit hit me again this noon, 30 minutes before going out with my partner, i dissociated for solid 10 minutes

[fantasylandloser]

Attention

warnings: mention of not having food, kissing, suggestive, glenn being a gossip, if there are more let me know

a/n- there might be a part two for *whispers* smut

(update pt. 2)

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

“Where’d ya get this?” Daryl asks, snapping the strap of your bra. It’s the girliest thing he’s ever seen you wear. He imagined you must have liked little frilly bras before the infection.

“Found it.” Is your simple answer. He grunts, barely an acknowledgment. “Same for all this?” He questions nodding his head towards the assortment of lip gloss and hair products and girly shit that he didn’t know the name of. 

“Yep.” Another grunt. 

“Sounds like a waste of a run.” He judges, but it doesn’t bother you, you know how surly he can be. 

“We didn’t go for it, we stumbled across it.” You explain but you’re barely paying attention to him, you’re too busy looking in the mirror trying to make yourself as pretty as possible. More like how you looked before all this started. 

“We?” Daryl asks, barely able to keep your attention.

“Me, Maggie and Michionne.” You answer as you fuss over your hair. Daryl grunts again and you cut your eyes at him. 

“Will you stop that? If you have something to say just say it.” You wait for him to tell you how stupid you look trying to pretty yourself up in the middle of the fucking apocalypse, in a prison at that. 

“It’s just not like you, s’all.” 

‘“It used to be,” You pause taking a deep breath, before running your fingers through your hair. “Before the world got blown to shit, I used to love this, had it down to a science. Now I can barely remember how I kept up with all of it.” 

“You don’t need it.” Daryl tells you. “All this for that guy?” He knows better, but he asks anyway. His curiosity had been peaked ever since you started disappearing at odd hours of the day only to reappear with him. You also hadn’t seemed like you were interested in making any connection outside of your friendship with Daryl and the others you were at the farm with.

At a certain point you’d been his shadow basically, damn near mirroring everything he did, until you ditched him for some douchebag you hardly knew. It went from you being at his side practically 24/7 to it taking up to an hour for him to find you. 

You roll your eyes at him. “It’s for me. And you know his name.” 

“Yeah well I don’t think Mark would like it if he knew you were prancin’ around in this frilly shit in front of me.” You scoff trying not to laugh at him saying his name in such contempt.

“You can leave if you want.” He doesn’t. “ Mark and I aren’t even together.”

“Fooled me.” He tells you gruffly. He tries not to feel too disappointed when you start to shimmy into your pants, the tightest pair you own, or look at the curve of your ass when they get stuck under your thighs momentarily. 

‘“Might be time to trade those.” He says gesturing to the jeans that just barely fit you but make you look so, so good. 

“Maybe.” You agree. “None of my damn pants fit right anymore.” You complain. Daryl knew what you meant but couldn’t help thinking they fit just right. 

“It’s cuz’ we actually have food to eat now. Ain’t that a good thing?” He reminds you and you can’t help the feeling of gratitude for all you have now.

“Yeah. The best thing.” 

After you throw your shirt over your head you start to speak again. “Okay do I look like a woman again?” You ask, doing a quick spin for Daryl. His heart picks up when you look back at him, seeming to want his approval. 

“You never stopped lookin’ like one, last I checked.” You give him a look of indignation, before sighing. Wrong Answer.

********

“Why didn’t you just tell her?” Glenn asked.

“Cuz’ it wasn’t for me. It’s for him.” Daryl nodded down at Mark, who was twiddling his thumbs waiting for you. 

“Dude, the only reason she’s even paying attention to him is because you’re practically a nun.” Glenn says before pausing. “That’s what Maggie told me anyway.” If she were standing beside him she’d hit him upside his head for never being able to keep a secret. 

“Maggie told you what now?” 

Glenn sighs knowing that gossiping is going to come back to bite him in the ass. He does it anyway because he can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

“Yeah man, Maggie told me that the woman basically walks around you half naked and you don’t want her. I also saw the shit they came back with so if you ignored her in that, then I’d say you’ve given her a pretty good reason to believe you aren’t interested.” Glenn glances over at Daryl, seeing the look of confusion.

“I didn’t ignore her.” Daryl says sharply. “I didn’t know it was some sorta’ test.” He huffs, not liking that his friend knew all this and he was left in the dark, about you of all things.

“It’s not a test bro, she was trying to get your attention. I mean in my opinion I think she should come right out and say it, that’s what Maggie did but maybe she doesn’t know how to at this point.”

“Maggie dragged your ass through the mud before the two of you got together. That’s how I remember it, walker bait.” Daryl smiles a bit knowing you told him that, but you’re not as much of a gossip as Glenn.

“Shut up, man.”

When you finally get to the bonfire, Daryl sees the moment Mark lays eyes on you, but he whistles to catch your attention before you can go over to him. 

“Glenn needs a break , you wanna fill in for ‘em?” Glenn makes a noise of amusement at his obvious lie, becoming even more amused when you scrunch your face up but then agreeing anyway. 

You’re in the guard tower for ten minutes before Daryl says something, instead of the utter silence. “Glenn told me something..” He starts. He hears you mutter a ‘fuck’ under your breath knowing that he wasn’t good at keeping a thing to himself and Maggie kept nothing from him.

“That’s never good.”

“Not for anyone that shares secrets with him.” You hum in agreement. 

“So what did he tell you?” You ask, not wanting to draw out the conversation. 

“How many secrets of yours does he know?” He asks you, his eyebrow drawn up and you don’t hear it but he has to bite back the jealousy. 

“Between him and Maggie, way too many.” You admit. Daryl grunts, displeased that you share things with them that you don’t with him. He gets it. Doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

“If you have something to say to me I think you should say it.” Neither of you are looking at each other, instead you’re both scanning the perimeter. You wanted to curse Glenn for putting you in the predicament where you might have to say something you just wanted to be. 

When you remain silent. He pushes again, he just wants to hear it from you. “It’s not gonna be on me if you don’t say anything.” You inhale a deep breath.

“You know how I feel about you, Dixon.” Not enough. 

“I don’t.” He counters. 

“You do.” You huff and he watches you out of the corner of his eye, sees the slight flame in your cheeks and wonders if it's from embarrassment or anger. You just might be as bad as this as he is. It’s cute.

“I think I’ve made it pretty clear.” You add much to Daryl’s shock. So much so, that he drops his gun just to look at you better. 

“How do you figure that?” You give him a pointed look and he grins in his realization. “I thought you just liked the attention.” You scoff at his words. 

“Your attention, dumbass. You don’t see me running around in my underwear in front of anyone else.”And you are specific to only his attention. The way he looks at you inspires a feeling in you that hasn’t been accomplished by any other man. 

“Well you don’t needa be so mad about it.” You exhale because you are mad and you’re not entirely sure why. 

“If you don’t want me just say that. I don’t see any reason-” You’re cut off by a rough grab of the front of your shirt. He kisses you, it’s quick, somehow deep, then it’s over. 

“Y’er beautiful. With or without the extra shit. You understand me?” It takes you a moment to realize he’s answering your earlier question. You nod, slightly flustered, your thoughts and words failing you. 

“Good. Go tell Glenn he can come back.”

[scoonsalicious]

6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was on his way! 

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something. 

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers. 

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile  of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable. 

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest. 

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car. 

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared. 

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed. 

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing. 

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky. 

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[bruisedboys]

loser lover — steve harrington

summary: steve is an accident-prone boyfriend … you’d never admit you actually like patching him up. fluff, established relationship.

gn!reader 1.2k words

gif by @harringtondaily

“Oh, Steve. What did you do this time?”

Steve stands in the doorway looking immensely guilty. He’s sporting a bloody lip and a scrape up his arm, and his jeans are streaked with mud. He’d taken the kids out to Lovers Lake — you’d been too comfortable at home to join them, but now you’re regretting it.

“It was an accident,” Steve whines, sounding a bit like a toddler trying to get out of a scolding. “I fell out of a tree trying to get Dustin’s stupid shoe.”

You almost laugh. Almost. “How in the world did Dustin’s shoe get in a tree?”

Steve looks up, sees the smile on your face that you hide hastily. Due to his current state and the fact that you’re already glaring at him, he pretends not to notice.

“Max threw it up there. None of them were tall enough to get it down.”

You cough loudly, though to Steve it sounds suspiciously like a snort of laughter. His face morphs into exaggerated shock, eyes blown wide and jaw slack.

“Are you laughing?” He challenges, eyebrows disappearing into his too-long hair. “I know I look like hell right now, sweetheart, but I could totally take you on.”

He raises his fists like he’s going to fight you, converse-clad feet shuffling on the doormat. He looks so stupid that you burst into a fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Steve’s hands drop to his sides when you continue to laugh. “What?”

You finish laughing though you’re still grinning from ear to ear. You grab his wrist, pull him inside. “You’re an idiot, Steve.”

Steve would gladly look like an idiot a million times, in front of a million people, if it meant you’d smile at him like that.

“Well, come on.” You’re urging Steve inside — he’d been too busy staring to cooperate. “Take off your shoes, tough guy.”

Tough guy. Steve likes that. He fails to notice you were using the term teasingly.

Steve kicks off his shoes and shuts the door behind him. Your hand moves from his wrist to his hand, your fingers slotting between his. You pull him through the living room, where he catches a glimpse of the film you’d been watching, and into the bathroom.

“Are you really sore anywhere?” You ask him.

Steve shrugs. “Not really.”

You manoeuvre your bodies in the cramped space between the sink and the shower, your hands on Steve’s waist as you push him gently against the counter. You take his arm in your hands and hold it up to your face, gaze scanning the wound. You wince. It looks bad, bright red blood painting his raw, scraped skin.

Steve jumps in quickly. “S’not as bad as it looks! It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

You give him a look like you don’t believe him, dropping his arm gently. You bend at the knees to reach underneath the sink and tap his hip with the back of your hand. “Scoot over, baby. You’re in the way.”

Steve does as he’s told, holding his arm in midair while he watches you pull a white bottle and a box of big Band-aids from the cupboard under the sink.

“What did you fall on?” You straighten up, brows pinching together as you take his arm again in gentle hands.

Steve cringes. He’d been hoping you wouldn’t ask that — it will only make you more concerned. He waters his answer down enough that you won’t worry too much.

“I dunno, it was a branch or something. It only got my arm, though.”

You hum, unscrewing the bottle of saline solution. You’re near silent as you carefully clean the blood from his arm. Your sweet hums and quiet apologies for the stinging do more for Steve than the actual antiseptic could ever do.

Steve likes watching you like this, hair falling in your eyes and fingers so gentle he can barely feel anything. You’re biting at your lip — Steve wants to kiss away the worry but vows to stay still until you’re done. He’ll kiss you when he’s all patched up, screw his busted lip.

You stick a big Band-Aid on his arm and then plant a kiss on top, then one on the inside of his wrist. Steve reddens at your touch, your soft lips leaving his skin hot and tingly.

“And your lip?” You ask, oblivious to Steve’s blush. “How’d that happen?”

Steve lifts his uninjured arm to push his hair back from where it was falling over his forehead. “Oh, I elbowed myself in the face when I fell, I think.”

You huff, half fed up and half sympathetic. Steve thinks he hears you say ‘idiot’ under your breath as you grab the cotton balls from the cupboard. He loves you so much he pretends not to hear it.

“Next time, I’m coming,” you say, shuffling your feet so you’re probably far closer to Steve than you need to be.

Steve can’t resist fitting his hand to your waist, fingers pushing around to your back and thumb rubbing at your side. You try not to notice as you take a cotton ball, run it under the cold tap and dab at his bottom lip.

“You better,” Steve says, fake-exasperated. His words are muffled from your diligent dabbing. “The kids only listen to you, anyway.”

“They listen to you sometimes,” you reason, your eyes on Steve’s lips.

Steve huffs. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

You finish up on his lip and give it a final swipe with your thumb. Steve’s hand tightens on your waist like he doesn’t want you to be finished just yet.

“Thank you, baby,” he says softly. He takes his uninjured arm and circles it around your waist, your stomach pressing into his hips.

“I didn’t even say I was done,” you say through a smile.

“Well, I can tell you’re done ‘cos you don’t have that look on your face anymore.”

“What look?”

“That oh-my-gosh-my-boyfriend’s-an-idiot look.”

Steve digs his fingers into your side, prompting a giggle to spill from your lips. Donning a breathless smile you reach up to tuck his hair behind one ear, your pointer finger ghosting over his jaw as you lower it.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” you say quietly, then tap his chest twice. “You do need a haircut, though.”

Steve forces a frown. “Why? I like it long.”

You like it long, too. But Hawkins summers are sweltering, and if it gets any longer he’ll be begging you for hair ties everyday.

Steve seems to read your mind. His eyes turn all soft and big and mushy. “Fine, but will you cut it for me?”

You laugh, though you already know what your answer will be. “What am I, your babysitter?”

“Well…” Steve‘s eyes flit from the discarded cotton balls in the sink to his well-bandaged arm. “Kinda.”

You roll your eyes. You’d never admit out loud that you actually like caring for him like this.

“Sure, I’ll cut your hair, Stevie. Just don’t blame me if I ruin it forever.”

Steve scoffs. “Nothing you do could ruin this pretty face, sweetheart.”

You sigh, lips twitching at the corners. “Idiot.”

Steve feigns hurt, his hands falling from your waist and landing on his hips in a very mom-esque stance. “I thought you said I’m not an idiot!”

“Right, sorry,” you laugh, tiptoeing to press a breathless kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I didn’t mean it, my love.”

[rainylana]

Eddie knocking you up

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: my headcanons for how eddie would react to getting you pregnant;)

warnings: just language!

• it would be by total accident. you both were WAY too young to even consider having children, and neither of you ever thought you wanted them.

• he definitely wouldn’t get all “i’m so happy princess blah blah” no. it’s eddie we’re talking about. he’d freak the fuck out. he’d abandon you for a couple days, and you’d have an absolute meltdown thinking that he had left you. but he didn’t know what else to do. he had to be alone with his thoughts.

• he’d feel guilty for leaving, but he was too scared to go back. he couldn’t even comprehend, wouldn’t even be able to process the news. he’d be scared shitless.

• when he eventually did come back, you were seething angry, but deep down relieved to see his puppy dog eyes. you slapped him across the face as you cried.

• “y/n…i’m sorry. i screwed up, i know. i just, god, do you really think i’m ready to be a dad?”

“no, i don’t. but, i’m not ready to be a mother, either. so…i guess we’ll just figure it out.”

• it took about a week after you both found out before it really sunk in. then, it became more exciting and real. it happened when you were both out at the local diner, and seen an old high school graduate walk in with a baby boy on her hip. he had been giggling and smiling, gaining the attention of everyone.

• “holy shit. you know what i just realized? we’re gonna have one of those. you and i. like us.”

• it was still a lot to process, but you both loved each other with everything you had. and you couldn’t deny it, imagining your lover with a crying baby was the most adorable thing you could imagine.

• he treated you like royalty during the pregnancy, but god, you scared the shit out of him. you were flat out mean sometimes, only due to the mood swings, of course. sometimes the kids didn’t even want to show up for hellfire night, because you scared them too.

• he tried to be calm and rational when you’d get overwhelmed over something and bawl your eyes out. he just learned to agree with everything you said and admit everything was his fault.

• “goddamnit, i can’t get my jeans up! oh, god- i’m huge! none of my clothes fit anymore! look at me!”

“honey, you look beautiful. calm down.”

“calm down?”

• he was sent to the moon that day.

• during labor, he was almost more of a wreck than you. he put the sympathy in sympathy pains, for sure. each contraction, each scream, he was with you through it all. he held your hand while you pulled his hair out by the roots, screaming as more and more contractions came. he screamed right along with you.

• “oh, god, eddie i can’t do it! i can’t, i changed my mind. i don’t wanna do it, let’s go.”

“i think it’s too late for that, sweetheart.”

“i hate you! this is your fault!

“i know, i’m sorry.”

• when the baby finally came, he cried. you had a son, with curly, jet black hair just like his daddy.

• it was unimaginable the kind of love he felt for his child, and he fell in love you all the more for it. he was an amazing father, and wanted to do almost everything.

• except change diapers.

• of course, he took the baby to hellfire night when he was older, sitting him proudly on his shoulders like a little king. you wouldn’t allow him to go as a newborn. you didn’t trust dustin to hold him properly, and frankly, neither did eddie.

• he was the proudest a father could be, showing off his son as his greatest accomplishment he could ever achieve. he promised to be a better role model than his father ever was.

• steve and robin babysit;)

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Heartbreaking Lure

“Are you ready, John?” Sherlock shouts from the bedroom.

“Probably not,” John mutters under his breath.

“Sure,” he says out loud.

John must blink several times when his so-called boyfriend appears in the doorway. If he hadn’t been so familiar with Sherlock’s body and demeanour, John wouldn’t have recognised him. Sherlock looks like someone taken out of the hippie era. A golden-haired wig, long and wavy. He has a cerise coloured hairband across his forehead. The shirt is a loose-fitting thing in denim blue embroidered with yellow and red flowers. Low on his hips, a pair of tight white trousers cling to his muscular thighs and widen considerably just below his knees. Worn trainers complete the outfit.

“You don’t do things halfway, do you, love?” John says rhetorically and approaches the figure he almost can’t fathom is Sherlock Holmes.

Before John reaches him, Sherlock puts on a pair of round spectacles with red glasses, which hide those peculiar eyes of his. 

“You know my ways, John,” Sherlock purrs and pulls John in for a languid kiss.

“I do,” John confirms a bit out of breath after the lovely snog. “Now get your gorgeous arse moving, and I’ll see you later.”

John gives Sherlock’s arse cheeks a good squeeze to emphasise his words and Sherlock gives him a wink before bouncing down the stairs.

***

John feels utterly ridiculous when he’s dressed himself. It’s Sherlock who has bought the costume, and of course it reflects one of the many kinks of the detective. However foolish John feels dressed up as a sailor, he knows it’ll be worth it in the end.

The only way John can get Sherlock to attend a carnival, is for a case, like now. They are both undercover trying to catch the jewellery thief red-handed. 

When John arrives at the posh apartment in Mayfair, Sherlock’s nowhere to be seen.

Clueing for looks somewhere, John thinks to himself and chuckles. 

John’s disguise doesn’t stand out at all. There are all sorts of costumes, from the pompous Marie Antoinette figure to something reminiscent of Jean Valjean when he was imprisoned. A few hippies emerge from another room, but none of them is Sherlock.

John wanders around, his hands clasped on his back as if inspecting a regiment. 

Old habits die hard.

A murmur in his ear, startles him.

“As you were, sailor.”

“Git,” John hisses. “We don’t know each other, remember.”

Sherlock’s rumble is low and makes John’s knees weak with desire. The power Sherlock’s voice has over him should be alarming, but the feeling is far too delicious to fight. 

“The library in five minutes. Second door to the right,” Sherlock whispers and gives John’ earlobe a lick before he’s gone.

John takes a deep breath and steels himself for the confrontation that will happen in a few minutes.

***

“Stop laughing,” John complains when they’re back at Baker Street.

“But, darling, you look so sweet when you’re like this,” Sherlock explains, his voice filled to the brim with glee.

The confrontation had gone well, until the thief had tried to flee. John had tackled the woman, dressed as Zorro, in some sort of boudoir. She had been like an eel in John’s hands and had gotten a hold of a jar of glitter that she had thrusted at John. Sherlock and Lestrade came to his rescue, but the glitter stuck to John’s face, neck, hair and hands.

“I’m taking a shower!” John exclaims while Sherlock still shakes with laughter.

“Jo…John, don…don’t be upset. You look ador…”

“Shut it, Sherlock! Not funny anymore,” John spits and marches to the bathroom.

It takes forever to get rid of all the twinkly bits, and John’s mood has not improved. When he finally turns off the shower, he hears familiar music being played in the sitting room. It’s something John always describes as a heartbreaking lure. “In the Cluster Blues”. One of his favourites, and Sherlock’s way of apologising.

John smiles, his mood suddenly lightening, something only one person in the world is able to make happen so quickly. His beloved Sherlock Holmes.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at @7-percent @ninasnakie

[avengersfantasies]

Anymore - Chapter 5

Summary: You and Bucky take a big step, but there's still doubt in your mind.

What to expect: fluff, angst, smut

taglist: @kandis-mom @missvelvetsstuff @mavrellover91 @natashasilverfox @vicmc624 @blackhawkfanatic @haruvalentine4321 @felicitylemon @vonalyn @aboobie @stinkerbelle007 @crist1216 @je-suis-prest-rachel @buckysforeverprincess @bathwater101 @frickin-bats @lovely-geek @winterslove1917

After talking with Steve, you and Bucky headed to his room. You had decided to stay at the tower for the night instead of having him take you all the way back to your apartment.

            “You should move in,” Bucky suggested. “It’d be safer for you here.”

            You shrugged. “I like having my own space.”

“Well, you could have your own room on this floor,” he told you. “You’d have me and Steve right here if you needed anything.” As if it were second nature, Bucky began to change into his sweats and a t-shirt. He pulled his shirt off over his head with his back facing you. His back muscles were something else. You thought Steve had been ripped and fit, but just based off Bucky’s back, you could tell he was a bit bigger. He turned around to face you and started to speak, but his words were cut off when he noticed you were practically drooling over him. He had a perfect six pack, his chest broad, and his waist making a v-shape at the top of his pants. “Sweetheart?” he chuckled, causing you to come back to reality.

“I’m so sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I just—”

“You were staring,” he chuckled and walked closer to you. “See something you like?”

You blushed hard and giggled. “I see about a hundred things I like.”

Bucky stalked towards you like you were his prey. “Listen to me,” he spoke softly – his hands cupping your face carefully. “You and me…whatever happens between us…I want you to be comfortable.”

You nuzzled into his large hands and kissed his metal palm. “I am comfortable, Buck.” He smiled widely at you. “I want you to be comfortable too.”

His thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I am, sweetheart,” he started, “but you’re pregnant…there’s a lot of emotions and hormones that might affect how you’re feeling.”

“Buck,” you started to argue back, “can I confess something to you?” He nodded. “Before I got with Steve, I wanted you…I was too scared to say anything to you, and then you were with what’s-her-face for those few months, and I was with Steve, and well…here we are.”

His eyes were filled with adoration. He hadn’t been expecting those words to come from you, but they did. They pierced his heart, and acting almost on instinct, he gently pulled your lips to his – capturing them in a deep and passionate kiss. Your hands trailed up to his hair – tangling the dark brown strands around your fingers. You tugged on them gently – wanting to get some sort of reaction out of the man you had fantasized about many time while Steve was inside you, though you’d never let him know that. God, it’d break his heart to know he was your second choice. None of that mattered now, however. Bucky slipped his tongue into your mouth and guided you over to his bed – laying you down gently and hovering above you. The kiss deepened, and the two of you explored the other’s mouth – never wanting to break apart.

“Fuck,” you moaned against his lips.

“You okay?” Bucky asked – his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded. “I just…don’t want to go too far.”

Bucky flipped you over so that you were on top of him, your hands rubbing his chest. “What’s too far?”

“Whatever you think is too far,” you told him.

His hands gently held your face to look at him. “Baby,” he began softly. “I asked you what’s too far…that means I wanna know your limits.”

You gulped, nervous about pushing him too far. “I don’t have any,” you confessed, “but…if you do—”

He cut you off with a deep kiss, his hands resting on your hips. You could feel him growing hard beneath you even through his jeans. He felt huge…much bigger than Steve. Steve was big, and he knew how to pleasure you, but you couldn’t deny that you had always wondered what Bucky would be like.

“Does it make me a bad person?” you managed to say through panted breaths.

“Does what?”

You leaned down to kiss his chest. “That I thought about you while Steve was inside me most times.”

Bucky chuckled. “Makes you human, baby girl.” That pet name did something to you – sent shivers through your body. You felt yourself soak through your panties, and this didn’t go unnoticed by the super solider underneath you. “Can I?” he asked, his flesh hand making its way to the hem of your leggings.

“Yes, Sergeant,” you moaned out, not realizing that you called him the name you had reserved for your fantasies when you were alone.

“Ooo,” he hummed – making you realize that you had called him what you did. “I like that, baby girl.”

You blushed harder than you ever had before and hid your face in his hair. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing!”

He chuckled and pulled your head back to look at him. “It’s hot, baby.” His lips were back on yours before you could say anything – his hand sliding into your leggings and petting your clothed pussy. “Goddamn, babydoll…you’re soaked.”

“All for you, Sarge,” you moaned – taking your shirt off and throwing it to the floor followed by your bra.

Your breasts were beautiful – something he’d never thought he’d get to see. His metal hand gentle grabbed one of them. “They sensitive?”

“A little,” you told him. “Just don’t be too rough.”

“You got it, doll,” he assured you – capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. His hands began sliding your leggings off. He made sure to move slowly so that you always had time to stop him if you needed to. You didn’t, however, and you lifted your hips up so he could take them all the way off – taking your panties with them. “Can your Sergeant have a taste of your beautiful pussy?”

You bit your bottom lip. His words were dirty…much dirtier than Steve’s ever were. You had begged for Steve to be dirtier with you in bed, but he never seemed to try. With Bucky, though, you were scared about what he would do if you did start to beg him to be dirtier. “Go for it, Sarge.”

Bucky leaned you back on the bed and hovered over you – making sure he didn’t put his weight on you. His flesh hand rested on your lower belly as he looked you in the eyes. “If you start to feel uncomfortable…physically or not…just tell me to stop, and I’ll stop immediately.” You nodded in understanding. The last thing Bucky wanted to do was somehow hurt you or the little life growing inside you. He kissed down your body softly – making love to every inch of your skin. Before he dove in, he took in your scent – wanting to memorize the delectable smell. “Smell so damn sweet, baby girl,” he praised you before gently wrapping his lips around your swollen and throbbing clit. You gasped at the sensation – your hand immediately going for his hair to pull him closer to your aching core. The soldier licked up your folds – dipping his tongue inside before holding them apart so he could properly feast. The sound of Bucky’s voice moaning into you send vibrations through your entire body, and your hips began to instinctually grind against his face for more friction. “Ride my face, doll,” he ordered you through his panting breaths. “That’s it.”

The sound of his eating out of your soaked pussy were sinful, to say the least. It was a sound that filled the air, and you could only imagine what it would sound like once his cock was inside you. Could Steve hear what was going on? He was only next door, after all. You knew that if he did hear, he’d be heartbroken, but you didn’t want to hide how amazing Bucky was making you feel. You bit your hand to keep your sounds from escaping your mouth, and this caught Bucky’s attention.

“Babydoll,” he said – looking up at you. “Let me hear your sounds.”

You almost had tears in your eyes. You wanted to scream out his name…God knows you did…but you couldn’t help but still feel bad about what you were doing. Was it considered cheating?

“What if he hears?” you managed to whisper to the man in between your legs.

“Then he should’ve thought about that before he broke your heart.”

Bucky was right. You knew he was. But Steve was still a person with a heart, and you never wanted to be the reason someone’s heart was broken.

“I can’t…,” was all you managed to whisper out before tears came flooding.

[atiny-moon]

Happy Birthday

18+ FANFIC. MINORS DNI

Genre: some soft smut for your consideration

Pairing: yeosang x fem!reader

Tags: nipple play, breast play, fingering (f receiving), unprotected birthday sex (no se hace!), yeosang has a skirt kink && is absolutely crazy about reader

Word Count: 5.4K

18+ FANFIC. MINORS DNI

star1117 Today at 10:16 PM

im so excited!!

h3h3tm0n Today at 10:16 PM

Me too !

Wait , why are we excited ? >.>’

star1117 Today at 10:16 PM

lolol my birthday is in 2 days

h3h3tm0n Today at 10:17 PM

Oh ! That explains why this gift mysteriously appeared in my room

star1117 Today at 10:17 PM

u bought me something?!

h3h3tm0n Today at 10:17 PM

Nope not at all

Wasn't me

A mysterious cosmic force made its way into my room and dropped off a present

star1117 Today at 10:18 PM

the universe loves me

h3h3tm0n Today at 10:18 PM

… Something like that , yes >.>

The universe also asked me if I could give it to you

star1117 Today at 10:19 PM

yes pls my venmo is star1117

h3h3tm0n Today at 10:19 PM

Haha

I would like to give you this present in person

If that’s okay ?

star1117 Today at 10:25 PM

ok

do you wanna play Valorant w me?

Two days later, Yeosang was standing in front of his mirror trying on a series of different outfits. He couldn’t quite find the combination he liked best - the jeans he tried on didn’t go with the top he wanted to wear and none of his shoes seemed to fit him anymore and why was his hair being so weird? After a big bout of indecision, Yeosang settled on a camel colored sweater vest with a white crew neck tee underneath and light wash straight leg jeans. Finally satisfied with how he looked, he grabbed the black gift bag on his desk and headed towards the door.

On his way out, Yeosang passed both Wooyoung and Yunho who were sitting in the living room playing a video game. Without looking away from the television Wooyoung called out, “If you’re going to lunch, bring me back something!”

“I’m not going to lunch,” Yeosang responded with a small smile creeping up his lips, “I’m going on a date.”

“A date?!” Yunho and Wooyoung cried out in unison. This caused Yeosang to laugh and busy himself further with putting on his shoes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his friends. Not right now, not with the bright blush that was coloring his cheeks as he thought of you and finally getting to see you in person.

“Yes, a date. I’ll be back later,” Yeosang said as he finished putting on his shoes. Wooyoung and Yunho were stunned silent and couldn’t do much except watch on with shocked expressions. As Yeosang stepped out of the apartment he could hear Wooyoung say, “They grow up so fast.”

There was a perpetual bounce in Yeosang’s step as he made his way to the cafe you picked out - the black gift bag swinging gently at his side. He was so incredibly excited at the thought of finally meeting you in person. Finally meeting the person that was so patient with him while he learned the rules of Valorant and kept him alive during his first few matches. Finally meeting the person that he could talk to all night on Discord and never run out of things to say. Finally meeting the person that made him so very happy.

Yeosang was about half a block away from the cafe when his heart jumped into his throat and butterflies swarmed his stomach. He caught a glimpse of you standing near the cafe and had to take a couple of minutes to calm his breathing before he could continue. His eyes were fixed on you as he approached the cafe - soaking up every inch of you in your adorable birthday outfit.

You had on a white collared shirt with a lilac pullover sweater tucked into a matching plaid lilac pleated skirt. Your hair was pulled into a lovely half up, half down hairstyle with a few loose pieces framing your face. Dainty little pastel accessories completed your outfit. Truly too cute.

You were scrolling on your phone and could feel the heaviness of someone’s gaze on you but you could not bring yourself to look up. Being in public was already a nightmare, you didn’t want to have to deal with some creep while you were at it. But when you were finally brave enough to look up, you were greeted with the sight of none other than Kang Yeosang. He was still a little ways away which gave you enough time to catch your heart before it leapt out of your chest.

As he approached, you could feel your palms get sweaty and a little voice in the back of your head was trying to convince you to run away but you were frozen, watching with wide eyes as Yeosang walked right up to you. The both of you stood in front of each other in silence for what felt like an eternity. You wanted to say something to break the ice but your throat forgot how to work and your hands were so sweaty and suddenly your shoes were too tight. You swallowed the panic attack that was building up and managed to squeak out, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Yeosang said softly. The two of you were finally face-to-face and Yeosang could not believe it. He didn’t even want to blink! Afraid that this whole thing was a dream and if he blinked, you would be gone. Yeosang watched you for a beat longer before shaking out of his daze, “Do you want to go inside?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah.. That sounds good..” You mentally kicked yourself for being so awkward as the two of you finally made your way inside.

The cafe was a beautiful double-heighted space that smelled like a combination of freshly ground coffee beans and old books. Save for the coffee/bakery area on the first floor and the reading nooks on the second floor, every open space was occupied by bookshelves and so, so many books. It was as if someone took an old warehouse and converted it into a library that just so happened to also have a cafe.

You placed your orders and waited for them in silence. It was so strange that you two could chat for hours online but once in person, all of those thoughts just vanished. Being in your favorite place with Yeosang on your birthday made you feel all sorts of things you didn’t know you could feel. And you didn’t know how to convey any of these complex emotions. The only thing your brain could do was short circuit.

Once your orders were ready, the both of you headed upstairs to find an empty reading nook. These nooks were semi-private little rooms that lined the second floor; they didn’t have much furniture - only a small table and a couple of cushions. A few of the reading nooks faced the street and had access to windows. You claimed one of these window-having reading nooks for your own.

The two of you sat down in front of the window, settling down the snacks and gift bag on the small table beside you. This was arguably your favorite spot in the entire cafe. With its extra large windows letting in the sun in just the right way and the ability to people watch at your own leisure, it was an introvert’s haven.

You were so taken in by the view you didn’t notice how Yeosang was unable to keep his eyes off you while you made yourself comfortable. Specifically, he couldn’t help but watch as your skirt gently danced across your thighs, never wanting to be a piece of fabric more in his life than right now. Thankfully, you saw none of this and were only met with such a gentle gaze. Locking eyes with him made your heart skip several beats - how could someone be so beautiful?

Yeosang was comfortable with the eye contact and had no intention of breaking that or the soft silence that had enveloped you two. You allowed yourself to really look at his face for the first time - the gentle slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the sweet swell of cheekbone. He truly was sculpted by the gods. Once you realized how long you were actually staring for, your face reddened immediately. You quickly broke eye contact and focused all of your attention out the window.

As the embarrassment faded away, you could feel the anxiety start to bubble in your stomach. “This is my favorite spot,” You said suddenly. And once you started talking, the words would not stop pouring out of your mouth, “because it’s good for people watching, and you get really good views of the park over there. That’s also my favorite park because the ducks there are nice and they don’t really bother you..” Your voice trailed off as you realized you were knee deep in your rambling.

“Ducks can’t feel cold in their feet because their feet have no nerves or blood vessels,” Yeosang stated matter of factly before taking a sip of his iced americano. Somehow, him acknowledging what you said while simultaneously ignoring what you said made you feel comforted. Like he understood where you were coming from and wanted to make the most logical jump in conversation.

After the duck comment, the two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You shifted on the cushion trying to get comfortable but were unable to find the right spot. Frustrated, you slid off the cushion and onto the floor, grateful for the familiar stability of the cafe’s wooden floors. You carefully adjusted your skirt once more and began to dig into the slice of chocolate cake you were sharing with Yeosang.

Because all of your attention was on getting comfy, you missed the way in which Yeosang watched your skirt and where it fell on your body. The way the pleats complemented your thighs, the way the color suited you so nicely. He couldn’t help but let his mind wonder what you looked and felt like underneath the skirt. If he wanted to, he could easily slip a hand under.. Yeosang had to physically shake his head to keep the thoughts at bay.

You noticed this and raised a brow. “Everything okay?”

It was Yeosang’s turn to forget how to speak. It took him a couple seconds to formulate a coherent thought that wasn’t about you and the way your outfit was driving him crazy. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just drank coffee too fast and got a bit of a brain freeze.” He offered you a half smile before looking away. He didn’t want to lie to you but he also didn’t want to tell you how much he wanted to know what color your undies were.

“If you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, it’ll help out with the brain freeze,” You replied, completely oblivious to Yeosang’s moral dilemma. Yeosang nodded and did what you suggested even though he didn’t really have a brain freeze, grateful for the opportunity to be silent for a little while.

As the both of you shared the slice of cake you fell into a nice conversation where you talked about everything and nothing all at once. It was so similar to your chats online it made you realize that this wasn’t a big bad scary stranger, but Yeosang. Your Yeosang. The one you would heal every match, the one that could make you laugh with his simple observations, the one you chatted with when you couldn't sleep. And somewhere in the comfort of conversation, you found yourself leaning closer to him, nowhere near touching, but close enough to feel the heat of his skin on yours.

Yeosang noticed you leaning into him and wanted to bridge the small distance between you two but he also didn’t want to scare you away by doing something you didn’t want. So, he struck a compromise with himself. He leaned back a little bit and placed a hand somewhere behind you and rested his weight on that hand. This meant he maintained his distance while simultaneously giving you more access to him. And little by little, you found yourself leaning more and more into Yeosang until you were cuddling against him.

The contact made you blush immediately and try your best to hide your face. Little did you know that Yeosang was also blushing like crazy and also trying his best to hide his face. But neither of you moved away from each other, preferring instead to be an awkward mess together. As the blush subsided and your breathing returned to normal you turned to look at Yeosang and were about to say something when Yeosang took your chin in his hand.

“You have a bit of..” Yeosang tilted your chin up a bit so he could look at your lips. Seconds later you felt his thumb brush ever-so-softly against your bottom lip “..chocolate.”

The two of you made eye contact as Yeosang sucked the tiniest bit of chocolate off of his thumb. Reality quickly set in and Yeosang broke eye contact first, unable to suppress the blush that was coloring his cheeks a bright red. You turned away, allowing him the grace of feeling embarrassed without the weight of prying eyes.

While Yeosang gathered himself, you busied yourself with straightening out your skirt. From behind you felt Yeosang clear his throat. You looked up at him with your hands still on your skirt, wondering if there was something wrong and that’s when you finally noticed the grip that your outfit had on Yeosang. His cheeks were redder than before and his eyes were transfixed on the hem of your skirt.

It was another beat before Yeosang actually said something, “Don’t forget your gift.” It took everything in him to tear his eyes away from where your skirt sat on your thighs and to the black gift bag on the table. He leaned forward to reach it for you, even though the bag was technically on your side of the table. He was so close as he reached across you, you could smell his cologne. Mm, cedarwood and lavender.

He handed you the bag and returned to his neutral leaning position with you ever-so-close to his body. The giddy smile that overtook your features made your entire face light up. Having the present in your hands really cemented today was real and it was not a dream.

You opened the gift bag and found no tissue paper but a black half-full cologne bottle. Neatly folded underneath it was a simple white v-neck undershirt. You tried your hardest to control the disappointment and confusion but it was fruitless. Yeosang was already clamoring to explain the reasoning behind the gifts.

“Ah, this isn’t any regular cologne,” He began as he took the bottle from your hand, “This! This is the very same cologne I use on a day-to-day basis. It’s the one I have on right now.” Yeosang exchanged the bottle for the white v-neck. Here, he leaned forward a bit so he could use both hands to hold open the shirt, effectively holding you in a very loose back hug. “And this is the shirt I slept in last night.” He smiled brightly, content with his gift.

But you were still confused, unsure why he would gift you his own personal items. Yeosang could sense your hesitation and lowered the shirt. In a much smaller voice he continued, “I know you sometimes have a hard time falling asleep so I thought having these pieces of me could make it a little easier..”

Your lips were still set in a slight pout when your brain finally understood the meaning behind Yeosang’s gifts. The sentiment filled your heart to the brim with an overwhelming amount of love. You turned to face him and threw your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a very tight hug. Yeosang was slow to return the affection but when he did, he held you as if you were the most precious thing on the planet.

The tenderness in his hold made you relax further into the hug. Yeosang responded by simply bringing you in closer to his body and rubbing small circles on your back, letting you break the hug whenever you wished. And it was a long time before you did, enjoying the feeling of his well-defined body against yours and the soothing motions of his hands on your back.

By the time you pulled away from him, there were the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes. Maybe it was the intimacy of the moment, or maybe it was the generosity of the gift, but you were overwhelmed with emotion. Yeosang was absolutely confused and had no idea what to do. He immediately started apologizing and saying that if you wanted to give the gifts back you could and don’t feel pressured to keep anything and he could take you shopping if you preferred.

You were half-laughing, half-crying as you dabbed at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t wanna give them back. I really like the gifts.. You’re very sweet, Yeosang.”

Hearing you say his name did things to Yeosang, things he didn’t feel comfortable experiencing in a public place. He wanted to hear you say his name over and over and over in a considerably less dignified manner. Yeosang blinked back the thoughts and focused on you. “I’m glad you liked them. But, are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Yeah.. I think I’m just ready to go. I’m starting to feel a little overstimulated.” You laughed dryly and watched as an expression you didn’t quite understand cross Yeosang’s features. “We can still hang out, though!” You added and immediately saw Yeosang relax.

Yeosang thought for a little bit before asking “Do you want to watch a movie with me?” He saw the panic start in your eyes and he quickly continued, “At my place. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

You breathed a deep sigh of relief and nodded your head. The both of you silently cleaned up after yourselves before making your way to Yeosang’s apartment, holding hands along the way.

As soon as you walked into Yeosang’s apartment you were greeted with Wooyoung and Yunho sitting in the living room, still playing their game. Wooyoung without looking up from the television yelled out, “How was your date, McSteamy?!”

Yeosang didn’t respond and it didn’t look like he had any intention of responding - he was simply taking off his shoes and putting on his house slippers. He also had no idea how to respond to his best friend calling him McSteamy. A blushing Yeosang ran off to his room to get you a pair of guest slippers, leaving you momentarily alone in the doorway.

“Uhm, it went well?” You offered.

At the sound of your voice, both Wooyoung and Yunho paused their game and turned to face you. Their attention on you was a little too much to handle and you could feel your cheeks burning up. Just as you were hoping the earth would open and swallow you up, Yeosang emerged from somewhere down the hall with a pair of slippers for you to use.

“Don’t mind them,” Yeosang said as he helped you change your shoes. “They’re just a couple of meerkats.” He offered you his hand as he led you away from the door and toward his bedroom. Wooyoung and Yunho were again, too stunned to speak.

A few seconds later, you found yourself in Yeosang’s room. It was smaller than you’d imagine but large enough that he could fit a full bed, a desk with a decent computer setup, and a small set of free weights. Looking around the room you noticed the wall-hung mirror by the door and small piles of clothes sprinkled throughout his room. There was one shelf off to the side that had several drones and their various accoutrement on display. But all in all, it was just so normal.. Not at all what you would expect from an idol.

You turned to Yeosang and found him trying to clean up the piles of clothes as quickly as possible without you noticing. It was incredibly cute. You opened your mouth to say something but just as you were about to, you heard loud noises coming from the living room.

“Oh! Gee, Wooyoung! I sure am hungry! Maybe we should get some food!” Yunho yelled as he loudly stomped toward the door.

“Yes, my dearest friend Yunho! We! Should! Eat!” Wooyoung called out. He was so loud you could hear his throat scratch at the end of every word. You then heard the both of them loudly put on their shoes and just as loudly open and slam the door close.

Yeosang held up a finger and did the universal ‘hold on a sec’ motion before disappearing out of his bedroom door. Moments later you heard Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Yunho bickering as Yeosang actually kicked them out of the apartment. You also could have sworn you heard the click of a door lock.

Seconds later, Yeosang was back in his room and apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry about them. Raised by wild wolves, I tell ya.”

“Nah, they’re kinda funny.. they remind me of my cousins.”

In the quiet that spread out from the empty apartment, the two of you felt the weight of being alone. Every fiber in your being wanted to bridge the gap between you and Yeosang but your feet were planted firmly in the floor. You couldn’t move or speak or do anything really. Your thoughts were consumed with the realization that you were alone with Yeosang. In his room.

But to Yeosang this was everything that he wanted. You looked absolutely adorable in the dim lighting of his bedroom and he wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable. So! He turned on his computer and started looking for a movie the both of you could watch. You walked over to stand behind him and watched as he scrolled through his extensive movie library.

“Oh! I haven’t seen that one!” You pointed to a title on the screen - The Princess Bride.

“As you wish,” Yeosang smiled coyly and quicker than you could imagine, he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. You giggled and tried to wriggle free but it was no use - Yeosang was incredibly strong and incredibly stubborn. You were going to sit on his lap and that was that.

Considering how muscular he was, sitting in Yeosang’s lap was surprisingly comfortable. He was also very warm. Being in his arms was like wearing a heated weighted blanket - it immediately comforted and relaxed you. You adjusted yourself on his lap so you could rest your head on his shoulder and Yeosang could rest his cheek on the side of your head. He started the movie and the both of you fell into yet another comfortable silence.

The combination of you sitting on his lap and the fact that he’s seen this movie more than he’d like to admit, made it very difficult for Yeosang to focus on the film. All he could think about was how close the curves of your body were to his; the way your shampoo smelled; and how soft your skin was. He adjusted the hold he had on your waist so he only had one arm wrapped around you, the other was resting on the top of your thigh.

This being the first time you’d ever seen The Princess Bride, you found yourself completely immersed within the first five minutes. And so it took a moment or two to realize that Yeosang was playing with the hem of your skirt - dragging the tips of his fingers across the sensitive skin of your thighs, watching the way the pleats of your skirt react as he slowly starts sliding his hand underneath your skirt. Not too far. But enough that it made you shift in Yeosang’s lap ever so slightly.

You took a big gulp of air and tried to focus on the movie but then, you felt Yeosang press his lips to your temple in the softest kiss imaginable. You shifted in his lap once more and found that Yeosang was holding you in place, making it very difficult to move about. He smiled as he pressed another kiss to your face, this time closer to your cheek. You wanted more of his kisses so you tilted your head to the side and allowed Yeosang more access to your face, neck, and shoulder.

He obliged and started leaving a trail of soft sweet kisses from your cheek, to the shell of your ear, all along your neck, and down the line of your shoulder. Each press of his lips against your body was so gentle you didn’t even know if he kissed you. The sweetness of his kisses paired with the delicate caresses of his fingers on your inner thighs was driving you insane. You wanted something firmer, something harder. So you rolled your hips into his, hoping to feel the excitement between his legs.

Yeosang breathed out a shaky moan into the curve of your neck before rocking his hips back into yours. You immediately arched your back and pushed into him, yearning to feel his body against yours. But it was no use - the thickness of your clothes prevented any kind of relief. So you settled for Yeosang’s delightfully soft kisses along your neck and his delightfully soft touches along your inner thigh.

At this point he was so close to the center of your thighs, the only thing separating his fingers from your core was a thin piece of fabric and a very hard thought. Feeling brazen, you reached under your skirt and moved his hand to the center of your thighs. Yeosang paused for just a moment before his fingers started playing with your pussy through your panties.

The pleasure was immediate but brief - his touches were so sweet and gentle, it felt like he was barely touching you. So you pressed his fingers harder against your panties and even began rubbing small circles using his own fingers. You couldn’t help but moan as the first wave of pleasure rippled through your body.

With your guidance, Yeosang started playing with you the way you liked. He continued to kiss up and down your neck and shoulder until you were on the very edge of an orgasm. As the pleasure began mounting and your breathing got shakier, Yeosang dipped his index and middle finger underneath your panties and started pleasing your clit. As soon as Yeosang pressed his fingers to your wet pussy the release was immediate. You gripped the arms of the chair as the orgasm washed over your body.

Yeosang continued to kiss your neck and shoulder as you came down from the high. He loosened his grip on your waist and brushed away the hair from your face. When you finally made eye contact with him, his gaze was just as gentle as ever. That’s when you kissed him. A soft thing that was just as sweet as his previous kisses. You could feel Yeosang smile into the kiss as he brought up a hand and cupped your cheek.

As the kiss deepened, Yeosang’s hand traveled down your cheek to your neck to your shoulder and then finally your tits. His hand massaged and played with your tits over your sweater. You moaned into his mouth and this only made Yeosang want to play with your breasts even more. He squeezed and grabbed at your tits until you could feel the excitement building in between your legs.

Yeosang wrapped you extra tight in his arms, stood up, and made his way towards his bed. Once on his bed, the both of you adjusted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed and you were sitting on his lap facing him, with your legs on either side. The both of you resumed your sweet slow kisses while Yeosang’s hands traveled underneath your sweater. The warmth of his hands on your body caused you to moan into his mouth.

As the kiss deepend you felt your hips rock into his - oh, how you wanted to feel his body on yours. So you broke the kiss and quickly took off Yeosang’s shirt and sweater vest. Even in this dim lighting there was no denying that it wasn’t just his face that was sculpted by gods, his body as well.

Yeosang just as eagerly removed your top and bra, staring at your body with his own sense of wonder and disbelief - how dare you hide such a pair of perfect tits underneath a frumpy sweater! Yeosang licked his lips and immediately started kissing your exposed chest while his hands fondled your breasts. You sighed another moan and let Yeosang explore your body.

As Yeosang continued to play with your tits, you rolled your hips into his once more. This time Yeosang grunted in response and bucked his hips into yours, hard. He paired it with a perfectly timed bite to your nipple that caused you to scream out in pleasure. Unable to take it anymore, you slid your hands down to the front of Yeosang’s jeans and hurriedly pulled out his hardened dick.

Yeosang pulled away from your tits to watch as you began to pump his dick with your hands. He leaned back onto his elbows and just watched as your hands expertly moved up and down the full length of his prick. Yeosang was getting even harder, if possible, as he watched your tits bounce up and down with every stroke.

His breathing was replaced with low grunts and his hips moved in time with your hands as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm. Just as some of his shallower breaths were replaced with whimpers he pulled your hands off of him, “Come here..” Yeosang managed between heavy breaths. You were about to stand up to pull off your skirt and undies when Yeosang said, “Leave them on.”

You looked up at Yeosang through half-lidded eyes and adjusted yourself so your entrance was lined up with his girthy cock. You breathed out slowly as you lowered yourself onto his dick. He was just so big and you were so tight. You watched as Yeosang bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes watching as your skirt completely obscured his view of his dick sliding into your pussy. Not being able to watch, only being able to feel drove Yeosang fucking crazy, in the best way possible.

Once Yeosang was completely inside of you, you took a deep breath and several moments to adjust to the feeling. Slowly, you raised your hips and then lowered them back down until you were able to develop a rhythm that felt good for the both of you. Yeosang placed his hands on your hips and helped you ride him.

The feeling of riding his thick cock was incredible. You could feel the pleasure mounting in your core as his big dick filled you up. Yeosang’s pleasure was also increasing - he gripped your hips harder and started really bucking his hips into yours, creating a lovely rhythm where every time you pulled away, he was there to slam right back into your pussy.

Bouncing up and down his dick, you throw your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm starts building. You quicken the pace and Yeosang is there to reciprocate it - holding you in place so he could fuck you better. He was starting to build up a sweat and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. His breathing was getting ragged and his grunts becoming more frequent.

The both of you announce your orgasms at the same time as the waves of pleasure wash over both of you. You pulled off Yeosang’s dick just as he made a mess all over his stomach. As the both of you catch your breath, Yeosang is quick to pull you into a hug and kiss the top of your head, “Happy Birthday.”

[hades-in-bloom]

But First, Coffee

Post-DI!Leon S. Kennedy x Corp Exec!Reader

summary: Leon is after his next target when he encounters a not-so-cooperative informant.

warnings & contents: older Leon (as per usual); could be age gap, could be none; accidentally plot-heavy and a dialogue heaven; mentions of smoking; Leon doesn’t do one-night stands; hints of power play; the reader could be any gender; might be turned into series (? big question mark).

a/n: this one just wrote itself as the pairing dynamic bugged me for a while—I haven’t seen it anywhere yet, but nudge me if I’ve missed anything; I think Leon might enjoy being bossed around a bit (for his own good, also by someone who isn’t Ada)—and as he can easily boss back, too. Overall, desperately clinging to my last brain cells. As always, proceed at your own risk—and let me know if this smaller font is unreadable. Minors DNI! Masterlist

Also—holy smokes, folks—this blog hit 100+ follows! Might sound insignificant to some, but it just blows my mind. Thank you so much for reading! xoxo

***

‘I haven't seen him. I wasn't paying attention. Please, I have more important things to attend to,’ you begged repeatedly—until a cop who was torturing you gave up. She knew she couldn’t keep you in the interrogation room for longer, so she had to let you out—eventually. You never thought that your morning run would end up with you in a police department.

‘We’ll have a short break,’ she sighed, giving you a stern look. ‘You may grab coffee next door; I'll call you back.’

You breathed out an irritated ‘Great,’ and took your chances, making your way to the only coffee machine in your vicinity. That one looked abused by thousands of hands eager to get a dose of instant caffeine.

‘You’d be better off drinking plain water than this,’ you heard a chuckle from your right before you noticed a tall man leaning on the nearby wall, watching you. He was dressed casually–heavy boots, dark jeans with a straight fit, and a probably expensive leather jacket; his sharp gaze trained on you, attempting to look into your soul—luckily for you, some of your employees were convinced you had no soul, so you left unfazed by the efforts.

You chuckled back at him. ‘Fair, but I don’t think that even this swill of a drink could worsen my situation.’

‘You don’t look like a local,’ you mentioned aloud, and he smirked in reply.

‘Good eye—I’m not. Well, not anymore,’ he confessed, stepping towards you. He didn’t seem to be planning to give you more details about himself, and you weren’t in a hurry to ask—or, instead, you didn’t care—yet.

‘Well,’ you gave him a look full of friendly irony, ‘if you’re not my knight in shining armour who can get me the hell out of this interrogation immediately, so I won't lose my job, I’d rather get on with my coffee.’

You turned your attention to the visibly overused coffee machine so you didn’t see how his eyebrows rose up a little, and a slight smirk touched his lips.

You grabbed a half-full coffee cup from under the machine and then turned as you heard your name down the corridor. ‘And that’s me.’ You emphasized before walking away. He watched you calmly, his eyes expression unreadable. ‘So long, local boy.’

You couldn’t hear him when he quietly chuckled in amusement as you returned to the officer’s lair.

It took twenty more minutes of unnecessary suffering before the door to the interrogation room swung open.

‘Leon?’ The cop looked surprised as you glanced at the intruder quickly—the local boy. Now, you were intrigued.

‘Jess, sorry for interrupting,’ Leon smiled at the old friend, ‘but I have Chief’s clearance to get this one,’ the man nodded at you briefly, ‘out of this questioning.’ He gave Jess—or, as known by you, Detective Jessica Harlow—an apologetic look. ‘D.S.O. orders.’

The detective sighed and returned him an irritated but tamed look. ‘Fine,’ Jessica glanced back at you. ‘It was a waste of time anyway.’

You couldn't hold back a scoff. ‘Tell me about that.’ Leon gave you a dirty look, although you could see his mouth twitch in a suppressed giggle.

‘Alright, get out.’ He said with a sigh, waving you towards the corridor. ‘I'll explain everything on the way.’

As you stepped outside the NYPD building, you took a moment to examine him. ‘So you are the knight in shining armour.’

Leon chuckled lightheartedly. ‘Oh, I'm definitely not that.’ The man neither considered himself noble nor his usual tactical vest was shiny. From his point of view, he wasn’t a hero type either.

‘Leon Kennedy, Division of Security Operations under the U.S. government,’ he introduced himself, done with the jokes. You held back a moan—so the local boy was a trap—a quite high-flying bird, though. He read you and showed a soft smile. ‘I know you have spent a lot of time with Jess, but I might have a couple of questions more.’ Leon thought he was worthy of the favor after he pulled you out of the interrogation with NYPD hours before Harlow would get satisfied—Jessica has always been thorough. ‘And for a change, they won't be about that theft you witnessed this morning.’

You weren’t excited; he could see that much. ‘Do I have a choice?’ You sighed.

‘Not really,’ Leon admitted honestly. You found him amusing—although the man knew he was in control of the situation, his look was soft, allowing, lacking arrogance you get used to seeing in your line of work, and he was too relaxed to your liking.

‘Can it wait at least?’ You pressed with desperate notes in your tone. ‘I am late to a critical meeting.’

He nodded reassuringly after a short pause.

Although still impatient, you sighed in relief and took a business card out, handing it over to the federal agent. ‘I guess I can skip my introduction.’ You stepped to the side, hailing a taxi. ‘Call my assistant. He’ll match our schedules.’

‘I can wait, but I can’t wait for long,’ Leon retorted as your leg stepped inside the yellow car.

You gave Kennedy a sweet smile before you shut the door. ‘Great. You tell him that.’

Leon was left stunned for a moment as he watched the car riding off deeper into downtown New York.

‘Shit,’ he mumbled with annoyance in his voice—and with a sudden hint of admiration, too.

***

‘I told you—I can’t wait that long.’

You jolted in surprise as you heard a familiar voice and your car door swung open. It was a couple of days since you met him for the first time.

‘I told you to call my assistant,’ you smiled politely as Leon made himself comfortable in the backseat next to you. You gave the nod to a company driver that he could drive on despite the unexpected guest present.

‘Oh, I have called—but the only available slot is three weeks from now. I guess you forgot to brief him on the urgency of our meeting.’

‘My bad then.’ You sighed, showing no remorse. ‘Close the door if you want this conversation to happen. I was just about to drive back home.’

Kennedy followed your advice and shut the door before the car took off.

‘So, what do you want to know?’

You were direct—Kennedy preferred that style of communication. Leon pulled up a picture on his phone. ‘There’s an assumption to believe you should know that guy.’ You tensed a bit as you took a look at the image.

‘I would prefer to have my lawyer present,’ you replied casually, making Leon chuckle.

‘Come on, it’s a friendly conversation. I’m not here to accuse you of anything—I have more important things on my plate.’

You scoffed. While thinking, you pulled up a cigarette case out of your purse and were about to light up one of those when you noticed the man making a slight grimace—it wasn’t his goal to tell you what to do, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you didn’t glance at him at the right time. You shot him a look. ‘What’s that? I saw it.’

‘I just… prefer my clothes not to smell of cigarette smoke,’ Leon replied, his voice gentle but confident. Despite the diversion, he stayed close to the topic. ‘But I'd rather you answer my question than we talk about the dangers of smoking.’

You had to admit that this annoying motherfucker had a style. ‘Great. Otherwise, I was looking forward to being scolded by a stranger.’ Your tone of voice was surprisingly friendly. Leon seemed not to hold a grudge.

You didn't care much about the opinions of others generally—but this time, the unknown force made you slow down and put away your lighter before you got a light out of it.

At last, you entertained his question. ‘The man is Art Rankine.’ You glanced back at Kennedy’s phone, still showing the photo. ‘I had a pleasure to work with him on one of the mergers.’

‘Legion Corp.,’ Leon assumed, and you raised an eyebrow.

‘Good to hear you did your homework. Then I don’t have to break my NDA—and thanks to that one, I’m not sure I can help you much.’

‘I would question that all of your encounters with Mr. Rankine were covered by the NDA.’ The man smiled, giving you a look. You felt your cheeks getting warm. ‘Am I right?’ Leon tilted his head while keeping eye contact. After a moment, you returned a dirty look at him.

‘We dated. Fleetingly, if I may add,’ you admitted reluctantly.

‘Good. As the merger was closed recently, I'd assume you still have his private contact?’ Kennedy asked.

You felt like you were falling into the James Bond-esque rabbit hole, and you didn't enjoy it.

‘So the all-knowing Leon Kennedy knows I slept with the man but couldn’t get his number?’ You didn't hold back on sarcasm, but it left the federal agent unfazed.

‘Something like that,’ he retorted. ‘I need your help to set up a meeting. That’s all I ask for.’

You scoffed. ‘You request me to contact my ex, and then you call it a small favor?’

‘That’s the best offer I’ve got.’ Leon admitted. ‘I’d rather we establish this partnership quickly.’ Oh, you knew well what that meant—a very gentle threat of making you spend a lot of money on your lawyer. It annoyed you as much as, to your amusement, you found it hot.

You sighed.

‘How do you want the meeting?’

You could see his watercolor eyes light up in satisfaction.

‘We can talk about it tomorrow. Care to give me your personal number?’

You took his mobile phone out of his hands before quickly typing in your number and calling your cell.

‘I am saving you under a horrible name,’ you warned the federal agent, and Leon let out a chortle.

‘Flattered. Now, I can get off right there,’ he nodded at the closest street corner. Soon, the driver stopped there for a moment.

‘So long, local boy.’

You watched him get out of the car, observing his features unintently—and then, by accident, you caught himself staring at his lips for a quarter of a second.

He noticed it.

‘Buy me a coffee first, sweetheart,’ he smirked before closing the car door as he exited the vehicle.

You realized you were holding back your breath after a while—you shook it off right after, finally putting a cigarette into your mouth and briefly cursing under your breath while you lit it up.

[helyiios]

Shitty pedagogy and vaguely masochistic tendencies : a study of Team Hunt handling trainees

(Team Hunt dynamics, Ethan/Benji in the background, 3.1k)

this one goes out to @liass-21 because this is a stupid thing we've brewed yesterday at like 1AM or something

When they'd learnt they'd get a special, week long training with the members of Team Hunt, the new batch of agents in training had felt particularly proud and lucky. A little fearful, too, but they were more than ready to be able to learn from the greats. There were 60 of them, all split in teams of 15. Each member of Team Hunt had agreed to it, except for Luther Stickell, who had told Secretary Hunley, that, he quotes, "could not be fucking bothered." 

Which led them to this, standing awkwardly in the middle of a massive amphitheater, in their training clothes, waiting for the legends to deign arrive. When they did, the trainees couldn't help but feel sweat drip down their spines. Would they ever amount to what would be expected of them ? Could they prove their worth ? They sure hoped so. 

"Hello, everyone," Ethan fucking Hunt said first, looking extremely relaxed in his teeshirt and jeans, "it's nice to meet you all. I'm Ethan Hunt, special field agent for the IMF, and team leader. As you know, we've been asked to supervise you this week, and we all look forward to it. We all specialise in different areas during missions, but we've all received the same training, which covers everything from honeypot situations to sharpshooting. A week is not a long time to develop your skills, but we're hoping to help you with it. Do your best and you'll be alright. Now, I'll let my team present themselves," he adds, gesturing at the two men and the woman besides him. 

She's the first to step forward, also dressed casually, hair in a loose ponytail. Her face is warm, compared to those of the two other men. 

"I'm Jane Carter. Field agent. I specialise in hand-to-hand combat, it's very nice to meet you. I hope we will work well together." 

"William Brandt," the man in the sharp grey suit says then, raising one hand. "Assistant to the Secretary. I don't go out in the field as much as these two anymore," he adds, pointing at his teammates, "but don't let it fool you. I expect a lot from you all, and I will not go easy on any of you." 

He finally turns to the last agent, a tall blond man who was wearing a seemingly fitted navy blue suit and an undone white shirt under—slightly less formal than Brandt, but still less casual than the two others. He'd actually been on his phone the whole time, typing something with his right thumb, face fully focused. There's an awkward silence in the room that lasts for a few seconds, and a cough from Ethan before he actually looks up, blinking and sniffing unceremoniously. 

"Right," he mumbles, putting his phone back in his pocket, a heavy British accent lacing his words, "I'm Benjamin Dunn. Field agent and Field technician. Huh. Nice to meet you all." 

The trainees look at each other, unanimously deciding that he looked the most unassuming of the bunch. His posture was awkward, and slouched, and so were his words. Clearly, he seemed to be the weakest link.

Ethan Hunt was a legend, someone who defied the odds, Jane Carter looked like she could kill you by just blinking, and William Brandt looked weirdly psychorigid. If anything, whichever team got Benjamin Dunn would be the luckiest. Plus, what was there to expect from a technician ? 

They're all split evenly a few minutes later, each team heading out of the room to other ones, specially arranged for their training. Hunt, for some weird reason, had sent an odd look to the team that had drawn Dunn. He had sent an odd look to Dunn period, actually, but none of the trainees tried to really focus on that. 

There were various sports and gym-like contraptions in the wide room, some treadmills, ropes, dumbbells, and more. And a desk, too, for some fucking reason. Benji Dunn makes a beeline towards it, sitting loudly in the chair and raising his legs to slam his feet on the table. He looked at his team through his long lashes, decidedly unphased. 

"Twenty minutes on the treadmills at 12kmph, or 7.4mph for your Americans," he says mildly. "By the end of the week, I want you to run at 10mph for at least ten minutes." 

"WHAT ?!" the vast majority of his team blurts out, eyes wide and mouth hanging low, "but sir, that's not—" 

"Official training makes you run at 9mph for ten minutes. Why are you complaining ?" 

Some of the men recoil, clearly taken aback by his tone. This was definitely not what they had expected from him. 

"But can't we start with some hand-to-hand combat ?" someone else whines, probably feeling bold, "what use is it to run ? We all know how to that." 

"Yeah, and you won't have the cardio for a proper fight," Benji replies simply, eyes back on his phone screen. Faint noises come out from it, something oddly familiar, and then they realise—

Was he playing fucking Subway Surfers ?

"What would you know about that ?" a young woman retorts, hands on her hips, "you're a field tech. You probably don't want to teach us combat because you actually don't know how do it." 

Benji actually looks up at that, mouth contorting slightly, trying to stay quiet before—

Before he snorts, covering his face and turning away a little to try and hide his hilarity. Now he's full on giggling, which doesn't help with the frustrated blush on the poor woman's face. This goes on for a few seconds before he wipes his eyes, shaking his head slightly. With an exaggerated display of effort he gets back up, cracking his neck and walking over to them. He plants himself in front of the trainee, towering her and cocking his head to the side. 

"You're lucky I have one hundred and twenty four blue keys in my game," he begins, "because I was beating my personal record, just now. I'm not teaching you hand-to-hand combat because you wouldn't be good at it. You need to work on your stamina, first." 

"Or maybe we can use the element of surprise !" someone behind him shouts, and he groans before stepping aside, watching the other trainee miss him by a few centimeters. He defeatedly watches him try and take a swing at him, moving his hands uselessly in the hair, and he can't help but think about Ilsa. It would've been fun to see her do that thigh movement she always used. Once, Jane had said that she'd found it hot, and he'd gagged. 

Whatever. He focuses back on that poor kid who was stalling, throwing hits here and there, and Benji simply kept wobbling from one feet to another to avoid him. It was sort of pathetic, kind of like that time in Vienna when Ethan had to fight that super tall guy. 

With a sigh he finally grabs his wrist, twisting it slightly until the trainee had to put a knee down, whimpering in pain.  Benji kept twisting, looking at him in sheer disinterest. It was not until he'd heard him beg for him to let go that he steps back, putting his hands back in his pockets. Some other trainees had jumped to their teammate's rescue, looking at his reddening muscles in worry.

"Now," Benji says, tone bored, "can you get on those fucking treadmills ?" 

His team looks at him dejectedly, and they all find themselves a spot. There are a few that cannot, due to a lack of enough equipment, and they vaguely wonder if that meant they were safe. 

"You all," he however calls out to them, arms crossed, "fifty pushups, fifty bungees. Repeat until I say it's over." 

"What the fuck," one of the trainees mutters, and suddenly they're jealous of the assholes who were about to go run. 

They get to work, though, even if most of them curse all the way through it. Hours pass, they switch exercises, and they're already sweating buckets. 

"I need to go talk to Hunt," Benji then suddenly says, gesturing at them vaguely, "keep on doing what you're doing. There's a camera watching you. If you don't do as told, I'm going to get real fucking annoyed. Got it ?" 

They all groan in agreement, and then he's disappeared from the room altogether. They look at each other, some with tears of exhaustion in their eyes, but they get back to their activities nonetheless.

—

"Working hard or hardly working ?" Ethan says as soon as he spots his husband, offering him his brightest smile, "how are they doing ?" 

"Why did I agree to this ?" Benji whines, letting his head drop in the crook of the other man's neck, "this is so boring ! They're so boring ! None of them can run at a decent pace !" 

"Define decent ?" 

"15kmph ?" 

"Yeah," Ethan snorts, "that's not decent. Wait—are you torturing those kids ?" 

A shrug.

"Benji !" 

"What ? They're not kids ! They're, fucking—I dunno, over twenty five ! They're full blow adults, they pay their taxes ! You know what some girl told me ? Huuuuh, you're not making us fight because you're a field tech and you don't know how to !" he says, voice pitched higher and tone full on mocking. "Like, who does she thing she is ?" 

"Baby—" 

"And when I passed the field exam, they made me run at 17kmph. And I was older than them. Do you know for how long I puked after it ? Mate, it was not pretty. If I can do it, so can they." 

"I don't think—" 

"Hey, you guys !" Jane calls out as she trots towards them, "all's good ? Training going okay ?" 

"Marvelous," Benji sarcastically replies. "You ?" 

"Yeah, yeah. They're sweet, sort of. Told them I'd bring them muffins at the end of the week." 

"Wow, you actually give a shit about them. Thrilling." 

"What, you don't ?" she frowns, "I mean I don't know, I want to make it interesting for them, y'know ?" 

Benji scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

"They're big boys and big girls, they can handle themselves. I'm not going to bake them fucking cookies. Like who am I ? Fucking Mother Theresa ?" 

"Sometimes," Ethan begins, an amused smile curling his lips, "I forget that we're part of the very exclusive 'people I care about' Benji Dunn club. How many are we in there ? Five ?" 

"I mean, six if we count Hunley," his husband shrugs, pursing his lips. "You make me sound like an asshole ! I'm just saying that I'm here to make them field agents. Not to stuff them with your homemade blueberry muffins." 

"Wh—you love my blueberry muffins, asshole !" 

"I really do," he sighs. "Where's Will ?" 

"Introducing them to the art of filling a report correctly," Jane grins, "he was very adamant about that." 

"That's so hot I might just wet my pants," Benji grimaces, turning back to look over at the door leading to his room. "I'll head back. God knows what they're all fucking doing. Hopefully not having an orgy." 

"Benji—" 

"Dude, ew !" 

"What ? It's a possibility. I'll see you tonight for drinks," he adds, waving them goodbye before turning on his heels, leaving the two other agents to stare at his back a little dumbfounded.

"You know he's making them run at 9mph ?" Ethan asks his friend, grinning when he sees the shock on her face, "yeah, I had the same reaction." 

"I think he's too used to you." 

"And I think we forget he finished first of his promotion during the field agent training." 

"He's so weird and scary." 

"Mm," he simply hums, looking dreamily into the distance. "Anyway. Time to go back, too. Catch you later." 

"Yeah, yeah. See you." 

Should she also make chocolate chip muffins, she wonders ? 

—

At first, Alan Hunley had thought it was a great idea, that whole Hunt thing with the trainees. He'd seen how Ethan had been when he'd started as a mentor, and he deeply believed in his pedagogy. He knew Brandt would not disappoint as well, and he was fairly confident in Carter, too. 

Now. 

The remaining issue was the last agent. Dunn. Why was it always Dunn ? Was he not tired of wearing him out ? Had the blown up buildings in central London not been enough ? What kind of mental illnesses did he have ?

Scratch that.

What kind of mental illnesses did he not have ?

Was he just like that ? 

He stares at the ten reports in front of him. Ten trainees who'd walked out the course on day three, four, and five. Some of them crying. It almost makes him want to laugh, but then he remembers that he has a moral code and actual human feelings, so he doesn't. Instead, he just sighs. 

Today was day seven. The last day. Surely Benji Dunn wouldn't be doing anything out of the norm. Right ? 

That's the mantra he keeps repeating to himself as he walks down from his office to the special rooms, hoping to get a small glimpse at whatever the fuck Team Hunt was up to. Hopefully, Ethan was not telling them about the benefits of jumping off a plane, or kidnapping the King of England, or anything like that. 

At least he hopes so ?

He hears them before he can see them, and he makes his way inside the training room quietly, sitting in a corner to try and not disrupt whatever was happening. Brandt and Dunn were standing in the middle of the room, everyone else watching intently, silence reigning. 

"So," Brandt says, tone horribly high pitched, "do you want to have sex with me ?" he asks, and his voice breaks on that last syllable, and then Benji Dunn's folding on the side and audibly retches. 

"And this," Ethan immediately says, eyes closed and mouth in a thin line, "is not how you try and deal with a target during a honeypot mission." 

"But it can be how you deal with a hierarchic superior," Brandt supplies, index raised, and Jane Carter snorts so loud Hunley's sure that he can see some fucking spit flow out of her mouth. "Don't get too handsy with the marks, though, we're here to get information, not get jailed for sexual assault." 

"Yeah, tell that to Ethan," Jane mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Oh for Christ's sake, I kissed you once in Mumbai, and it wasn't even a full kiss ! A peck at most ! Can you please get over it ?!" 

"God, when I'm gonna tell Ilsa about it..." 

"Ethan's a good kisser, though," Benji offers, hands on his hips, "But I reckon Brandt's too eager on the tongue. Don't get me wrong, it's fun, but it's also really wet." 

"I am so delighted to hear about all of that," their Secretary cuts them off, taking them all by surprise as he gets up from his bench and walks towards them, "I see the training is going well. Only 17 people have given up so far ! Ten of which were in your team, agent Dunn ! Congratulations !" 

"Ella's getting tested for PTSD," a trainee tells him, and Jane whistles lowly at that. 

"Sir," Ethan replies, ever so professional, "it's good to see you. We were—huh, going over honeypot strategies." 

"I can see that."

"It's not going too well," Brandt adds.

"I can also see that." 

"I wish Luther was there," Benji then suddenly pipes up, making everyone turn to him. "He flirted with me once, he even used his low voice and all. Closest thing I'll ever get to get hit on by Idris Elba," he sadly says. "Shame, really." 

"You know," Hunley notes, feeling a vein burst on his forehead, "if I stay here for a minute more, I might be tempted fire all four of you." 

"Is that a promise ?" the British agent asks, face eager. "Can we do the pinky thing ?" 

"Go back to work," his superior groans, sending death glares to them all. "These kids better be fit for field agent training tonight." 

"Yes sir," Ethan nods, watching him stomp out of the room. He stares back at the group, feeling oddly defeated. "Okay, who wants to do some practice target shooting ?" 

Everybody cheers. 

—

By the end of the week Benji had made fourteen people cry, Brandt had traumatised five of them with his whole administrative kink, Jane had brought them her muffins and Ethan had gotten love letters from twenty trainees. Benji actually made fun of him for it once they'd gotten home, but his husband had gotten sort of defensive, saying he'd found it 'sweet.' 

If one thing was sure, it's that they were not meant to be teaching whatever the fuck their missions required them to do. They were a messy team, full of messy people, who did things out of order and, you guessed it, messily. They'd found it fun, though, as far as fun could go when they'd had ten trainees puke their brains out after one of Benji's exercises (he'd called it automatic cleansing, which Ethan, Jane and Brandt thought was fucking weird,) and they had to promise to Hunley to never interact with young trainees ever again, out of fear of breaking them psychologically before they'd even gotten the chance to get in the field. 

Ethan and Benji were spread on their couch that night, slightly tipsy from the drinks their team had shared in honour of the shitshow being over, and the former was fighting an endless battle with his brain to try and not blurt out what he really wanted to say. 

"It's hot when you get all authoritative," he finally breaks, sounding insanely lame, averting his gaze from his husband's. 

"What ?" 

"I mean, when you...give orders," he further explains, trying to play it cool. "It's attractive. Is what I mean." 

"Well," Benji snorts, "'course I give orders. I'm the voice in your ear. That's sort of my job." 

"Yeah, okay. No need to be so cocky." 

"Aw, E. You're so cute when you're flustered." 

Ethan brutally blushes, sending him a glare that would've made anyone who wasn't his husband probably piss their pants. 

"Not flustered." 

"Whatever you say, darling," the other giggles, going back to watch their movie. "I hope none of the kids we've trained are going to die brutally in a traumatising field event," he then says, very calmly. "That'd be a shame."

"You're so weird," Ethan mutters, going to kiss him. "I hope so too." 

"Mm." 

They stay cuddled by each other's side until they fall asleep. 

[blainesebastian]

the benefits of getting stood up

words: 2,329 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @stylesmendeshearted ) set after the Elvis hype settles down, you meet Austin for the first time in a dive bar in Los Angeles  notes: this one was fun :) thank you! reminder that my masterlist is linked on my sidebar.  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell

Moving through the crowd in a dive bar in downtown Los Angeles, you hike up your black slip-dress just enough so that it doesn’t get caught on the stool you’re attempting to sit down on. You figured it might be busy but this is where your date wanted to meet so…you’re adapting. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a place like this, where the music is just slightly too loud and the people are a little too drunk to be enjoyable. Slipping your leather jacket off, you hang it up under the bar on the little hook and let out a breath, shaking out your shoulders.

Relax, dates are supposed to be fun, remember?

You feel yourself grimace in response but…are trying to remain positive. At least there’s a great selection of drinks and your feet aren’t sticking to the floor anymore because you’ve found an open seat at the bar—small victories.

There’s not enough room for…you glance at your messages, Nick, right, Nick. Because right when you turn to claim the stool next to you, someone else takes the seat. You don’t really look at his face, only the fact that he’s got black jeans on and long legs, which…nice, and you notice a pair of black booties to complete the look because one of them accidently knocks into your seat.

“Sorry,” He apologizes over the music, “Small spaces.”

“I know,” You smile a little, “Swear they design bars like this on purpose—tin can.”

A laugh rumbles in his chest, “I think in L.A. they call that ‘aesthetic’.”

You pillow your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch the bartender make his laps back and forth across the bar, making and taking drink orders, closing tabs. It’s a busy night, so you’re going to stay patient until you can order a beer. Besides, Nick isn’t here yet anyways.

“Oh yeah?” You turn a little bit towards the guy you’re talking to so it’s easier, “What do they call the sticky floors?”

He smiles, “Character.”

Your eyes tumble over his form a moment because…he looks really familiar, but you can’t quite grasp why. It’s like…recognizing a shape on an inkblot test even though you keep second-guessing yourself at what you’re seeing. Your brain tries to run through a bunch of scenarios, dreams, interactions, old friends, lovers, God—past dates but nothing seems to ring a bell. He’s tall, you’ve established that, slender but not in a ‘too skinny’ type of way, his clothes fit him well, hug where they need to.

There’s blonde curls whisped on top of his head like he’s done it on purpose and yet you have a feeling he probably just looks like this because some people are just naturally attractive. He seems like one of those people. Defined jaw, great cheekbones, a depth to his blue eyes, cupid bow lips. And yet you still have no fucking clue why you feel like you’ve…met, spoken or seen him somewhere before.

It's gonna bother you all night.

You’re about to pull the ‘you look familiar’ card when your phone buzzes. Pulling it out of the pocket of your dress, you blink at the message you’ve gotten from Nick but don’t really comprehend it, even after reading it three times.

Is this dude really standing you up?

“For fuck’s sake.” You mumble under your breath, texting back a few different responses before finally deciding not to say anything at all. Whatever, you were so-so on Nick, it doesn’t actually bother you that he’s not going to show up.

But this is like, the third time this is happened since you started trying to put yourself out there. “God, don’t ever sign yourself up for online dating—it’s a trap.”

And you have no fucking clue why you’re opening up to the guy next to you other than the fact that you’ve talked about interior bar designs and that he seems nice—and that he hasn’t randomly gotten up to find a different stool or moved on from the counter.

There’s a laugh there, sudden and sharp, like he…can’t quite believe what you’ve said. But he hides it against a sip of beer and wow, you obviously missed the opportunity to order with the bartender because you never even saw him come by, Jesus this night is shaping up to be terrible. You’re definitely not leaving without a drink.

You reach your arm out and attempt to softly wave at the bartender but he doesn’t see you (or doesn’t want to) and continues filling orders at the other end. You crinkle your nose, the handsome stranger next to you clearing his throat,

“I’ve never done online dating but I don’t think I would.”

You hum, pursing your lips. “Yeah, if I had your face I don’t think I would either.”

And interesting, you don’t expect there to be a blush from that compliment but there is, just lightly, along his cheekbones. He seems like the type to wear compliments well, like an armor, or preening like a sunflower towards the sun. But he doesn’t, there’s this boyish coyness to him even though his eyes tell a different story—like he could flirt with a beer glass and get something out of it.

He watches your pathetic excuse of an attempt to get the bartender’s attention one more time, “Don’t tell me you got stood up.” And then flicks his wrist and somehow grabs the dude’s attention in record time.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks, super attentive and…yeah, that’s nice.

“She’d like to order a drink,” Handsome stranger says, “It’s on me.”

You raise your eyebrows and sputter for a few moments, not expecting that but then hurry up and give your order because the bartender is waiting and the last thing you want to do is hold him up when he’s got other things to do.

“Uhm—just whatever sour beer you have on tap, please. Anything fruit-wise works.”

He nods and grabs a pint glass and you turn on your stool to better face who you’re sitting next to, “You didn’t need to do that.” You tell him as another 90s pop song begins to play in the background.

“I wanted to—you clearly got stood up.”

Huffing out a bit dramatically and fluttering your hair along the edges of your face, you say, “I don’t need a pity beer.”

He smirks, “It’s empathy beer.”

You roll your eyes but you’re smiling as it’s set down in front of you. Tugging it a bit closer, you take a long sip and…well, free beer is free beer. So you air ‘cheers’ him in thanks and take another sip.

“Should probably know the name of the guy who’s buying my sympathy beers.”

Again, there’s that look on his face, a soft amusement that’s almost gone as soon as it appears. “Austin.”

“Y/N,” You offer a hand to shake and he smiles, your fingers brushing in gentle squeezing and—nice, he wears rings on his slender fingers. That’s attractive.

Then you sort of blink because Austin and it takes about three seconds before the backlog of information that you were searching for before frontloads your brain. That’s why he looks familiar? Because this is who you think it is, right? That guy from the Elvis movie, the one you saw plastered all over billboards and subways and in the banner of your HBO Max profile for, like, two weeks. The name kinda puts everything together, connects the dots, and the longer you look at him the more you’re sure he’s exactly who you think he is.

The universe really said ‘forget about Nick or whatever his name is from finance, here’s Austin Butler at a dive bar in downtown Los Angeles’. No wonder he’s lookin’ at you like you’re not from planet Earth—while the Elvis hype has significantly died down, there’s still some cities that are showing extended runs in theaters and Austin himself has become a particularly public icon.

And yet here he is, talking to you about failed online dates. Maybe you’re being Punk’d.

“Y/N,” You like the sound of that, way too enjoyable hearing him say it, “You been stood up before or?…I just wanna know how many beers you expect to order.”

“Do I have a limit?” You laugh softly, taking another sip of your beer, “You gonna start runnin’ up a tab on me?” He shakes his head, smiling, but before he can say anything you add, “Nah, this was the first time,” And hopefully the last, you’re probably gonna delete the app after this, “Should have known when Nick said he was an ‘entrepreneur’ as his job experience,” You crinkle your nose, “That’s always suspicious.”  

“What kind of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t,” You smile a little, “But only if you tell me what you do too.” Even though you know, obviously, but…it’s not necessarily a test of sorts but, you want to see what Austin will say. He has to know that you know at this point, right? Even though nothing’s been said?

He doesn’t say no, however, or shy away from the question.

“So I work in an aquarium,” You smile, straightening your shoulders a little. It’s a bit of preening, you’re very proud of the work you do, and you love it. “I do a lot of the tours, like guide students around or visitors, but I’m also studying to be a marine biologist. So it’s a lot of juggling.”

Austin purses his lips and he seems intrigued? Or maybe impressed, it’s hard to tell. Either way, you can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like if he stopped by your work, the reflective blue water casting pretty shadows on his skin, in his blonde hair, how much deeper his eyes would become. It’s a sight that gets trapped in the front of your mind for a few moments.

“What’s a one-liner from your tours—I know you got one.”

You grin, turning towards him a little until your knees knock together, but neither of you move away. The weight and heat of one another’s skin felt through the fabric of your clothes, “’Octopods have three hearts and the female octopus tends to eat the male after mating.’”

He chokes off a laugh as he sips his beer, “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” You laugh softly, “They just take no shit, definitely don’t let dudes named Nick stand them up at dive bars.”

Austin shakes his head—this man absolutely didn’t think he’d be talking to a stranger at a dive bar about sea creatures. You have to wonder how he’s kinda end up here though, why he’s by himself, why he’s at this bar compared to so many others that most likely don’t have sticky floors and not enough stools for the counter.

You chew on your lower lip, opening and closing your mouth as you process this question before finally just going for it, “What kind of work do you do?”

There’s a playfully dramatic breath out of his lungs as he looks over at you, “It’s not nearly as exciting as spending time with octopods all day.”

You laugh, that’s far too smooth, “Sometimes it’s sharks, you know. Jellyfish,” You crinkle your nose, “Sea urchins.”

Austin smiles and there’s a slight pause there, turning his beer glass in a half circle before finally, “I uh, I’m in film.” And there’s this…air to his voice where he seems to appreciate being able to answer for himself. That regardless that you’re past the shared point of knowing who he is, you’re not jumping down his throat with assumptions and questions.

“Film,” You repeat with a warm hum, “Do you like it?”

“I’m learning to love it.”

And that’s…not a response that you really expected from him if you’re being honest. It’s open, a bit vulnerable and interesting considering how far he’s come with the film’s popularity.

“That’s good, seeing as how you’re pretty great at it.” And you hope that’s not coming on too strong—just feels like he deserves that compliment, because you have seen a handful of his stuff. You still have yet to watch Elvis, despite how much it’s been in theaters and advertised…waiting for one of those weekends where you have time to yourself.

But you’ve seen clips and…from that alone? You know what you’re talking about.

He smiles, dipping his chin a little, “Thank you.”

You’re about to say something else when your phone buzzes and it’s your roommate, chewing on your lower lip as you read over her message. Damn. You look back up at Austin and…you don’t want to leave, but,

“That’s my roommate, she locked herself out of our apartment.” Taking one final sip of your beer, you slide off your stool. You’re about to pull out your card but then remember Austin picked up the tab for this, “Thanks again for the drink.”

You find yourself hesitating as you pull your jacket on and grab your purse…wondering if it’d be totally off the wall to give your phone number out to a celebrity but…wouldn’t be too crazy right? You have been sitting with him for the past hour, drinking and talking. Gathering up the courage, you turn and begin to speak,

“So I was wondering—” at the same time he says, “I think—”

You motion for him to continue and he clears his throat, “I was just sayin’, wouldn’t hate if we did this again, minus the Nick stuff.”

You raise your eyebrows, unable to stop a smile from tugging the corners of your mouth, “Oh you mean like a date? No one standin’ me up?”

“I won’t stand you up,” Austin smiles, “Promise.”

And that’s the thing, you’re gonna have to put yourself out on the line, trust him, see where it goes.

But suddenly? You’re feeling a lot more optimistic about dating.

--

Thank you for reading, commenting, liking, or reblogging! Appreciate it :)

[spicycinnabun]

Leggyman

WC: 625 | Rated: T | on Ao3

~

Mickey was on his hands and knees under the sink between the open cupboard doors, only his bottom half visible. 

Fiona had called them that morning and enlisted the help of a handyman. Her kitchen sink was leaking. And, since Mickey was an honorary Gallagher now, he had to fix it for free. He fit the bill perfectly with his dirty wife-beater, tool belt, and brown steel-toed boots.

There was just one problem. 

“Uh… Mick,” Ian said, rubbing his forehead.

Mickey’s right hand briefly appeared and wiggled impatiently in Ian’s direction. “What? Hand me the fuckin’ pipe wrench.” 

Ian grabbed the wrench, leaning down to drop it into Mickey’s waiting palm. “I think we gotta go shopping for some shorts.”

“The hell are you talkin’ about?” Mickey grumbled.

There was some wrenching, then some clanking, some banging, and a few curses. Ian watched Mickey’s ass jiggle with his boisterous movements before he decided to reply.

“How do I put this delicately? I can see—”

A sharp, catcalling whistle cut Ian off as Fiona breezed into the kitchen. 

Mickey jolted, bumping his head on the underside of the sink. “Fuck!”

“Nice buns,” she commented, grinning as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted open the cap. 

Ian crossed his arms and tried to keep a straight face as Mickey scrambled out and stood up. He was unsuccessful. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to rub Mickey’s head.

Mickey was having none of it, though, ducking away from Ian’s hand with a scowl and his eyebrows so high they looked like two boomerangs. 

Fiona gave him a teasing once over. “Did you cut your jeans into jorts?” 

Mickey had, in fact, used Ian’s gardening shears to cut a very tattered pair of jeans so he could still wear them, and he had gone too far. Way, way too far.

“Fuck you both,” he said, neck and ears turning red as he flipped them off. “See if I finish fixin’ this now.”

Fiona laughed. “I’m sorry, Mickey. I do want the sink fixed. But please change first so this doesn’t turn into a porno.” She gave Ian a knowing look. “No fuckin’ in my kitchen, got it?” 

Then she was off, and it was just the two of them again. Mickey was so red at this point his head looked like a tomato.

Ian took pity on his husband and didn’t laugh, grabbing his gym bag that was on the stool and pulling out his basketball shorts. “Here,” he offered. 

Mickey snatched them from him without a word and went to the bathroom, slamming the door. 

Ian approached it, leaning against the doorframe as he listened to Mickey change. “For the record, I think you looked great in your jorts. You know I love those legs.” He smirked. He was teasing Mickey now, but he also wasn’t lying. “You don’t have to throw them away. Can wear them just for me…”

“You’re a dead man, you know that?” Mickey threatened, but when he opened the door, he didn’t look mad anymore. He also looked ridiculously adorable in Ian’s shorts. Now, with the opposite problem, they were way too long, hitting just below his kneecaps.

Ian tugged him forward by the white drawstring, and Mickey let him, gaze gentling the way it always did when Ian pulled him close. Ian leaned down, framing his face with big hands, and Mickey rose slightly onto the balls of his feet to accept the kiss.

After they separated simultaneously, Mickey slapped the jorts against Ian’s chest, and Ian’s fingers wrapped around rough denim. He gave Ian a flirty little eyebrow wiggle and a grin that showed off his bunny teeth, then quickly ducked back under the sink.

[tgmsunmontue]

Lonely Nights 4/4

Set in 2009, Bradley is ~26 and Jake is ~22. Hangster PWP. AU where Bradley went to the USNA and has a better relationship with Maverick, however DADT still exists. This 100% fits in with the much longer Nepo!Baby-Bradley fic I am currently writing (the angsty one).

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

                His entire body is aching in the best way, muscles unused to this particular type of workout and his thigh muscles are going to let him know their displeasure later and he won’t have any regrets. His shower is quick, his stomach grumbling at the fact that it’s nearing nine and he still hasn’t eaten anything for well over twelve hours and that’s something he needs to remedy soon. He towels off again and then realizes he’s going to have to dress in the clothes he was wearing last night. Eugh. Okay, maybe clean clothes are slightly more important to him than food. He steps back into the bedroom and starts picking up his clothes. Jake is lying with the pillow over his head, like he’s pre-empting Bradley’s intention to get him out of bed but he lifts the corner and peers out, his face scrunching in displeasure.

                “What are you doing?”

                “I need to go and get a change of clothes, plus I’m starving. As good as the sex is, I can’t survive on it. I’m guessing this place doesn’t have room service?” Jake snorts and gives him a look that tells him he’s guessing correctly. “Okay, I can go and get food and come back…”

                “Or, uh, we could go together? What else do you have planned for today?”

                He feels a little relieved that Jake seems to want to spend time together not in bed, and he refuses to think about it more than that. He pulls his underwear and jeans on, not bothering with doing the zip and button quite yet.

                “Uh… well. I was going to go and see the new Transformers movie.”

                “Oh, yeah, I wanted, to, uh see that too…”

                “And I was going to get a haircut. You probably need one,” Bradley adds, because while his hair has been growing for over two months, he has no idea what style Jake normally has but it’s too long to be regulation right now. He hopes it’s not a buzz; Jake likes having his hair pulled and the idea of it being cut so short Bradley can’t tug at it anymore makes him mourn for it…

                “Um, are you okay with… hanging out with me? I mean, getting food and going to the movies and… fucking getting our hair cut…”

                He sounds unsure suddenly and Bradley wonders what’s caused it. He walks over to the bed and pulls his tank over his head. Hmm. He likes the visual of being dressed and Jake being naked in front of him. He sits and reaches out, runs his fingers through Jake’s very messy hair.

                “Jake… I’ve never been to the movies with a guy I’ve had sex with. Hell, I’ve never shared a fucking meal with a guy I’ve had sex with,” he pauses then, wonders if sharing a mess hall with a carrier squeeze counts and discounts it immediately. “And none of that is because I didn’t want to. It’s been to protect myself. Protect my career.”

                “Oh.”

                “But I do want to go out and get some food with you, and then go to the movies… and then get my hair cut. And then come back here and have sex again. If you’re interested.”

                “If I’m interested? You want that?”

                “Yeah,” Bradley says, not wanting to say anything about wanting to maybe play pretend for the next day and a half that he’s going to have to shove all this back into a small space inside of him that he ignores for the most part. “Jake… do you want me to go and check out of my hotel and come and stay here with you for the rest of the weekend?”

                “I… yeah. If you want to?”

                “I wouldn’t be offering it if I didn’t want to.”

                “Then yeah, go and get your things.”

                “Okay. I’ll be back in… thirty. Probably? Have a shower and get dressed and then I’ll be back and we can go out and start with breakfast. Brunch I guess. Deal?”

                “Yeah, deal.”

                He leans down and gives Jake a kiss, softly gentle carrying the promise of later.

…             …             …

                Part of him wants to keep his hotel room, plausible deniability and all that when he’s got three nights paid accommodation all sorted out. He wonders about maybe changing it to two nights, but then the logistics of trying to check out tomorrow just seem unnecessarily convoluted. He’s looking at having a solid two days and nearly three nights with the same guy. Yeah, he’s going to have to leave ungodly early Monday morning, but he was planning on doing that anyway. He changes into clean clothes and grabs his things and packs them, efficient from years of practice; eyes his hanging garment bag containing his service dress blues. He’ll leave them in the car and change half-way to Pensacola. That’ll be fine. He drives back to Jake’s motel and parks in the numbered carpark associated with Jake’s room. He wants to know how Jake is getting to Pensacola if he doesn’t have a car here, but he also doesn’t want to ask. Doesn’t want to offer him a ride because that would raise too many questions when they’re seen arriving together.

                He grabs his bag and heads to the door, raps on it and waits. Then Jake is standing there, grinning and letting his eyes travel up the length of Bradley’s body and he’s never felt quite so desired. Like he’s been the thing Jake has been coveting for years and he’s finally within his grasp. Who knows? Maybe he is.

                “Brad Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “That’s not my name…”

                “Close enough, still sounds just as ridiculous.”

                “God, you’re kind of a shit head aren’t you.”

                “Yep.”

                “Come on, we had a deal.”

                “I made that deal before I knew the other conditions. Because that shirt is also ridiculous…”

                “What’s wrong with it?” Bradley asks, looking down at his shirt. It’s one of the Hawaiian ones the Ice had brought him back from a work trip.

                “Uh… it wasn’t a gag gift?”

                “No. My uncle got it for me when he went to Hawaii. I wear quite a few.”

                “Well, I guess you aren’t perfect after all.”

                That makes Bradley laugh in shock, that anyone could think that he’s perfect. And that apparently Jake is judging him for his style of clothing.

                “I don’t want to be perfect, I want food,” Bradley says, pushing past him to drop his bag inside, letting his empty hand trail over Jake’s stomach.

                “Well, if you insist on wearing that then I guess I have no choice.”

                “How about I promise to let you take it off me later?”

                “Okay, that’s a condition of the deal I can accept. Let’s go.”

                They find a diner easily enough, Bradley happy to drive them, happier that Jake doesn’t ask any questions about why his garment bag is hanging on a hook in the backseat of his car rather than inside his motel room. Some subjects they just seem to mutually avoid. They figure out a movie time and then figure they can find a barber to walk into before or after. They discuss movies they’ve seen, talk about shared experiences having both gone to USNA, let each other’s calves rest against each other under the table. They finish and pay up, walking back when Jake asks about his car.

                “Why an Audi?”

                Bradley sighs, because he’s already had this conversation multiple times, with multiple different people.

                “It’s the safest apparently. My dad is a little overprotective. Tries to be anyway. It was a graduation gift. Wasn’t going to turn away a free car.”

                “Hell of a gift. It ain’t no Bronco though is it…”

                Bradley snorts.

                “No. I don’t need to drive a Bronco…” Not when I fly planes he wants to add; doesn’t. “So, anything you want to do today?”

                “Uh… well. I kind of did some looking before I came here. I want to go dancing.”

                “Clubbing?”

                “I mean, we could, but I mean… line dancing. I miss it.”

                “Okay…”

                “Can you carry a tune Brad Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “I was in the D and B for a bit, I can follow and carry a tune fine.”

                “Then you can learn some line dancing easy. I’ll keep it nice and simple just for you.”

                “Oh yeah? That a challenge?”

                “Always. There’s a casual session happening early this evening. I was going to go, unless I get a better offer…”

                “I’m sure we can fit both in…”

                “Don’t make promises you can’t keep…”

                Bradley rolls his eyes and gets him to direct him to the cinema duplex, they buy tickets but pass on food, both still full from their belated breakfast. They make themselves comfortable and Bradley can’t remember the last time he went to the movies with just one other person. Maybe high school? He feels Jake’s hand on his thigh and lays his own hand over top, lacing their fingers together. It’s nice and innocent. Until Jake pulls Bradley’s hand to his mouth and sucks a finger into his mouth, grinning at him when he gives him an elbow.

                “Fucking behave… I’m not getting kicked out of a movie I want to see.”

                “Would it be a different story if you didn’t want to watch the movie?”

                “Uh…”

                Jake laughs and Bradley pinches his thigh just above the knee joint tight enough, making him flail a little. A couple of other people turn around and frown at them, but it’s dark, the pre-movie advertisements and trailers unimportant enough that Bradley cannot bring himself to feel even remotely guilty. Jake seems to settle though, so Bradley leaves his hand on his thigh, lets himself enjoy the weight of Jake leaning against him as they settle in to watch the movie. It feels nice.

                Once the movie is finished they both walk out stretching, Jake is already looking something up on his phone and then he showing Bradley directions to the nearest barber that accepts walk-ins. It’s a fifteen minute walk, but they both decide it’ll feel good to stretch after sitting for nearly three hours.

                “So, how do you normally get your hair done?”

                “Uh, usually it’s just a three all over.”

                Bradley can’t help the little sound of distress and Jake looks at him in disbelief.

                “So… not a buzz all over?”

                “No.”

                “You wanna tell me what you want…?”

                Bradley doesn’t bother saying anything, just stops them and steps to the side, wraps one arm around Jake’s waist and pulls him close against him until they’re pressed close together. Then he runs his other hand into the hair at the back of Jake’s head, nails scraping and he kisses him, softly really, not wanting to make people around them uncomfortable. He tightens the hand in Jake’s hair ever so slightly and just tugs gently. Jake’s entire body responds, hips rolling forward, quiet moan emanating from his throat and eyes fluttering shut. Yeah.

                “That. That’s what I want for the next twenty-four hours. You cut it too short then…” he shrugs, because Jake gets the message. It’s his hair, he can cut it however he wants, but he can also get it cut shorter on base.

                “Oh. Yeah. Okay…”

                He lets Jake go in first, explaining he needs to ring his dad, which is true, Mav expects a Saturday afternoon check-in and always prefers a quick phone call when Bradley can. He does make it quick, explains he’s about to get his hair cut which makes Mav laugh. He doesn’t ask about his time and Bradley doesn’t offer up anything. He says he has to go when Jake appears back in front of him and he hangs up and gives Jake a proper once over. His hair is styled, still long enough to run his hand through on top, but the sides and back are definitely short. Well within regulation.

                “You look… good.”

                “Only good?”

                “I think I preferred it a little longer.”

                “Yeah, same.”

                “It’s okay, I still wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

                Jake laughs and pushes him inside, tells him it’s his turn to make phone calls and Bradley lets him have his privacy.

…             …             …

                He wakes up Sunday morning and his body is itchy, and this is not the hard-rooted desire to fuck or get fucked, but rather the need to burn energy through exercise, something that has become a deeply ingrained habit. Yesterday he’d written off as a rest day, because not even great sex and an intense line dancing session can replace a good hour of running or weights. He rolls out of bed and moves to his bag, grabbing out his running gear. Pulls on his underwear and running shorts. He sits down on the edge of the bed, pokes at Jake who seems to hate waking up, which makes Bradley wonder how the fuck he got on at USNA.

                “Hey. I’m going for a run…”

                “Ugh. You want company?”

                Bradley blinks. He hadn’t even thought that was a possibility.

                “Uh… No? I mean, I like running, so I don’t want you to come if you’re going to bitch and moan the whole time.”

                “I mean, I will. But I’ll also enjoy the view more than usual. You look good all hot and sweaty. Just think there are better ways than running to achieve it.”

                Bradley laughs then, lets himself shuffle and push Jake into the bed.

                “Yeah, be that as may be, just imagine the shower afterwards…”

                “We can shower after sex too.”

                “I’m going for a run. Join me, or don’t.”

                Jake groans, grumbles a bit, but does join him, and Bradley’s fucking glad he’d maintained his training regime throughout his leave, forced to really because Mav wouldn’t ever let him slack off. Jake is competitive, but Bradley is too, and they probably shouldn’t be trying to push each other like this. Neither of them stop though, and it’s not until they’re both back at the motel, chests heaving and gasping, Bradley gulping back a bottle of water without stopping, his entire body screaming out as to what the fuck was he thinking. Jake is laughing though, collapsing onto the ground and Bradley can’t help but grin.

                After that they decide to take it easy for the rest of the day, showering separately because there’s no way they can both fit in that cubicle. They walk to a different diner for breakfast and buy sandwiches to eat in bed later. They have sex again and afterwards Jake naps while Bradley reads a book. It feels surreal, like he has somehow stepped outside of his life for this little window of time. Able to enjoy everything he’s always felt like he’s missed. He’s just not sure if it’s a good thing to now know what he’s been missing. They go out for dinner to a steak house, Jake insisting on playing footsie with him under the table while he makes up either tragic or hilarious back-stories for the other patrons and wait staff.

                Their last time together is slow. So slow. Bradley wonders if Jake feels the same. If he wants to drag it out for as long as possible and make it seem like time has stopped for them, that tomorrow will somehow not come. He lets himself run his fingers over the odd mole here and there on Jake’s body, places little kisses on them, tries to commit them all to memory. Wants to know he’s traced and mapped as much skin while he can, doesn’t want to have regrets later about not taking the time to touch Jake everywhere. Jake’s hands are likewise occupied and Bradley wonders if his fingertips feel as sensitive as Bradley’s skin does from where Jake’s touched him… His body shudders when he comes, aching and deep, different again from the previous orgasms and he can’t believe he’s developing a catalogue system. Can’t help but smile as he feels the aftershocks and he licks at Jake’s neck, kisses little taps up to his ear, nips at the earlobe.

                “God Jake…” He doesn’t know what to say, what he wants to say is just too much. Far too much for something that is only a couple of days old, far too much for something he’s going to have to pretend has never happened, far too much to shove down and ignore. But he will do all of that anyway. “Let’s just say the memory is going to get me through a lot of lonely nights.”

…             …             …

                He leaves at four the next morning, pauses to press a kiss to Jake’s forehead. He’s pretty sure after this his nights are going to feel lonelier than ever before.

THE END

(The angst of this is resolved in another WIP, but it's a couple of months off being posted).

[jamietarttdoooodooooo]

Back Together Again l Chapter 1 l Saying Hi

Pairing : Jamie Tartt x f!reader

Word count: 862

Warnings: None

Summary: You are Ted Lassos' daughter. You have known Jamie seen ten years olds. One day you come to see your dad but inside you could because you miss Jamie. You join the AFC Richmond team and realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend.

A/N: First chapter Yay!!! I am hoping you like it.

You finally arrive at Nelson Road. You get there at 8 am, to talk to Rebecca before anyone could get there.

Rebecca was waiting for you outside the door. “Good morning Y/n, I am so glad you came.” She had a big smile on her face.

“Mornin’ to you too Rebecca.” you said. You both walked right in the building and Rebecca took you right up to her office.

“So you want to join Richmond now what made you change your mind” I was scared to tell her the truth that my mom told me no.

“Well, my dad is coaching this team… also I have always wanted to play on this team. My mom kept me home because she always tells me what to do. And yet I listen to her. I came back because I am finally ready to not listen to her. And do what I want to do and not listen to her anymore.”

Rebecca just smiled at me while typing on her laptop. “Well I think that is very good for you. Also I can put you on the team after the next game.” 

“When is the next game?” I asked. “In a week, so a day after that game you will start” 

“Thank you so much Rebecca” I smiled like I have gotten all the money in the world. “You're very welcome, welcome to AFC Richmond.”

You realize it’s already ten o’clock. Training was going to start in a half an hour. 

So decide you finally come to your senses and go down to the locker room. You knock on the door making sure everyone is dressed.

Everyone said they are. You come in and the first pair of eyes you saw were your dad’s. He came up and hugged me but it wasn’t your dad who hugged you. It was Jamie.

Jamie hugged you from behind. He knew it was your favorite type of hug. “Hello princess,” Jamie said. “Hi lover boy” you knew he loved that nickname you gave him.

Your dad was still shocked to see you. “Y/n why are you here?” my dad asked “Well I wanted to see you and I am coming to play for this team”

You realize everyone was watching this going down and Jamie was still hugging you.

Jamie finally let go of you and realized what you said. “You came to play for this team” you just smiled at him.

“Yeah” you could tell Jamie was bouncing off the walls in his head.

“Wait a girl is going to play with us” Isaac asks. Roy grunts at him. “That means yes Isaac” Jamie says.

Everyone starts to talk to each other. “Oi” Jamie says “Let the girl speak”

“Yes you will have to play with a girl” Beard walks in and gasps. “My favorite Lasso” Yes in fact you and Beard had a close friendship. He always let you do what you wanted to do. He would take you to the store to go shopping. He was like your real dad.

“Everyone go out to the pitch and start running” Roy tells everyone. “Oi Tarrt, talk to your little friend”

“So we haven’t talked this week princess” you looked at him. “I think that might turn into an everyday talk sense. I am going to be here everyday now.” I say

“Yeah, I am glad that you are here princess more time with you the happier I am” Your dad walks in “So why are you really here” My dad asks me.

“I came here to do what I have always wanted to do. Come and play for AFC Richmond” Your dad just smiled at you which means he was proud of you. 

Your dad went to the pitch. “Come on, you two are just going to stay in here or are you going to go practice.” my dad says. Luckily you had sweatpants and a fitted shirt on so you could practice if you had  to. 

Sometimes you did wear jeans and a crop top. You thought you might have to practice so you decided to go with sweatpants.

You and Jamie walk out to the pitch. You start running with all the other boys. 

After practice all of the boys besides you and Jamie go to the locker room. You and Jamie stayed on the pitch and hit the ball around some more and made more goals then you needed to.

“So princess, do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” Jamie asked me. “No I don’t actually”

“Well you can stay at my place till you get a place to call your home.” I smiled at him “Thank you”

[madnessformunson]

Double Daddy Part 5

Warnings: pregnancy, mean girls, a little angsty, mentions of food, mentions of pain

Note: I wasn’t going to post this yet but I just can’t wait. My account it being super weird and I’m unable to reply to any comments 🥺

Part 6

You had stuck the book Joyce gave you into your backpack so you could look through it during your free period. During your first class you pulled your notebook out of your book bag making the “What to Expect When You're Expecting” book fall out. Jason Carver glanced down and saw it, “whoa I think you dropped your book about pregnant ladies”

“Can it Carver” you yelled at him. Causing him to put his hands up in defense.

Later at lunch Eddie and the rest of the party sat at their usual lunch table. El and Will distanced themselves from Eddie after finding out he was the baby’s father but you knew how much Will enjoyed Hellfire. You told him to go ahead and keep playing, that it wouldn’t bother you. Chrissy was sitting practically on Eddie’s lap as she pushed around her meal on her tray. Gareth told a slightly crude joke making the whole party break out into a laugh while Chrissy sat making a face. “I don’t see how that’s funny at all” she snapped. Jeff rolled his eyes. Gareth replied, “I wish y/n still sat with us, she always thought our jokes were funny.” Eddie stiffened up and Chrissy let out an annoyed groan. “How is y/n doing anyway?” Jeff asked Will and El.

El shrugged, “good I guess. She complains a lot about how her pants don’t fit and she acts really strange all the time” Will continued, “yeah I know last night I saw her dip her banana in ranch dressing” as he made a disgusted face. “Ew that’s actually really gross” Chrissy said with a huff. She got off Eddie’s lap and started pulling him up to leave. Eddie looked over at the table you sat at with Robin, you were laughing as you dipped your banana in the ranch and Robin gagged. You looked to be really enjoying it.

It was Friday night and you were laying in bed as usual. You never went anywhere besides school and work anymore. You heard a knock on your door and perked up. It was Steve. “Hey y/n/n, whatcha up too?” He said as he entered and sat on the end of your bed.

“Clearly I’m extremely busy” you said moving your arms around and you both chuckled.

“So I was thinking, what if me and you go out tomorrow night? Maybe to Starcourt and the diner? You’ve been cooped up in this room for far too long”

“I don’t think my dad would let me Steve”

“Already checked! He said it was fine as long as with bring Will and El”

“Will and El being our babysitters? I don’t think so” you scoffed throwing your head back down on the pillow

“Come on, it will still be fun! Pretty please!” Steve said with big puppy dog eyes that were hard to say no to.

“Ok fine” you whispered.

“Perfect, I'll be here tomorrow at 4 to pick you up!”

As soon as he left you called Nancy and Robin asking them to come over tomorrow to help you get ready.

Saturday afternoon came and the girls sat on the bed as clothes covered your bedroom floor.

“I’m getting so fat, ugh none of this looks right” you said as you threw what felt like the 100th outfit you tried on to the floor.

Robin replied with, “you do know you’re pregnant right?” And nancy leaned over and hit her shoulder

“Ow sorry” Robin muttered.

“You are not fat at all y/n” Nancy said as she came up to stand next to you in the mirror Robin followed behind her.

“She’s right, you look amazing! I wish I looked like you right now” Robin replied.

“Says the two people that can still fit in their jeans” you mumble.

You finally settled on an outfit and Steve came to pick you, Will and El up.

Will and El ditched you as soon as you got to Starcourt leaving Steve and you to wonder about. You enjoyed spending time with Steve, he was funny and caring. After some time you found Will and El and made your way to the diner. You sat at your own table, facing Steve as you looked over the menu.

“I’m starving” you muttered as you flipped through the menu.

“Says the girl who had a slurpee, pretzel bites and an ice cream sundae at the mall” Steve laughed, making you turn red in embarrassment. Steve noticed and quietly said, “but you are eating for two so gotta make sure my girl is fed” which made you feel better.

“I really just want a chocolate shake with some fries” you finally said.

“Then that’s what you and baby are gonna get!” Steve said as he turned to get the waitress so he could order it.

A few booths down Eddie sat with Chrissy.

“So Chris I was reading a pregnancy book and noticed you don’t have any of the common first trimester symptoms? I’ve never seen you have morning sickness or anything” Eddie questioned her.

“Not everyone gets those symptoms Eds, I think I’m just lucky!”

“Yeah I guess that’s possible…maybe we should get you to a doctor so we know everything is alright”

“I called to make an appointment but there was a waitlist, I’ll call again this week I promise. Everything is good here” Chrissy said, forcing out a smile. She knew she was going to have to step her game up. Eddie was starting to get suspicious.

As the weeks went by you started to show more and the pregnancy symptoms got more intense.

Joyce made you a doctor's appointment where they gave you a due date and confirmed you and the baby were healthy.

As you were ending your 1st trimester you started to feel better, occasionally still experiencing morning sickness but the doctor told you that was normal.

Steve and you got super close. You hung out all the time, he tried to get you out of the house more but you often just settle for some scary movies and popcorn at home. Your dad even allowed him to take you to and from school (with Will and El supervising of course).

Steve pulled up to your house to take you to school. He knew the second he saw you that you weren’t feeling good. He got really good at reading your expressions.

You huffed are you threw yourself and your bag in the front seat.

“Not feeling well today?” Steve questioned as he rubbed your thigh.

You shook your head.

“What’s going on? Do you have a headache or just nauseous again?”

Before you could answer he said, “oh no are you getting those round ligament pains already?”

“No” you chuckle, “just feeling nauseous from the smell of my dad cooking bacon. How the heck do you know what round ligament pain is?”

“Oh I’ve been reading a pregnancy book. I’m not a girl thankfully so I have no idea what you are going through but I like to have somewhat of an idea so I can help” he said with a small smile.

“That’s really sweet Steve”

“Yay Steve that’s so sweet of you” Will mocked in the back sit with El. You turn around and punch him in the shoulder.

“Ow” Will said as he rubbed his arm.

“I made you some ginger tea y/n, I read it’s supposed to help” he said as he passed you the travel mug. “Oh and there are some crackers in the glove box, just in case”

You smiled and thanked him.

When you got to school you noticed Chrissy’s belly was still pretty flat. You weren’t huge yet by any means, and to the average person wouldn’t even guess you were pregnant. You just looked bloated.

After one of your classes you went to the restroom. Afterwards as you made your way to wash your hands you saw Chrissy at the sink fixing her lip gloss.

“You are getting fat” she said not looking away from herself in the mirror.

“Yeah weird huh. I guess you aren’t far behind me” you said with a wink as you dried your hands to leave.

The next day you had another doctor's appointment so you were late to class. You rush into Mrs Clicks class with your books in hand.

“Sorry I’m late Mrs Click here is my doctor's note” you handed it off to her. As she inspected it you noticed Eddie staring at you. You didn’t notice that your book pulled your top up a bit, slightly exposing the side of your belly. You quickly adjusted yourself and when Mrs Click accepted your note you headed to your seat.

Later that night you were home alone. Steve had to work and your dad took Joyce out for a date night. El and Will went to Mike's house so you decided to nap. That’s until the phone started ringing.

“Hello?” You picked it up slightly out of breath.

“Uh y/n? It’s me, Eddie”

Your heart dropped.

It was silent on the line for a few moments.

“Hello, are you there?” Eddie said.

“Yeah, I’m here. What do you need” you said, trying to control your tone.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing”

“So all of the sudden you care about me? After what 12ish weeks?” You scoffed.

“I never stopped caring y/n/n I promise. I just, I just got confused. Chrissy got in my head.” He sounded so small on the phone.

“Oh so you believed a girl you just met instead of me, your best friend for literally years” now you were getting pissed.

“I’m sorry”

“I don’t want your ‘sorry’ I don’t care what happened or what Chrissy said. You abandoned me when I needed you most. You made me feel…used. I don’t care what you have to say Eddie, the damage has been done”

“If you’d just let me expl-“ you cut him off, “I don’t care to hear it, Eddie seriously! I’m done with your shit. You left me to deal with the aftermath of something we both did alone. I can never forgive you for what you have done.” You started to sniffle but stopped yourself. You didn’t want him to hear you cry.

“Ok I’m-“ he started to talk again but you felt a stabbing pain in your abdomen.

“Ow!” You let out, not meaning to but you couldn’t control it.

“Are you ok?” He sounded really worried.

“Yeah I just- ow ow ow!” Tears started forming in your eyes, the pain was so intense. You dropped the phone.

“Y/n? Hello y/n!” Eddie called out but you were doubled over in pain.

“I’m coming y/n just wait right there!” Eddie yelled as he hung up the phone and ran as fast as he could to his van.